#and i think interacting with other black people. especially other black women would be good for claudia and it would keep grace around

[nashvillethotchicken]

I know Grace and Claudia would have loved each other

#something something black moms vs black aunties #but no i do think we need to talk about how louis contributed to the isolation of claudia by not tellinv her anything about his own family #like we rightfully get on lestat for being secretive but claudia didnt know she had a grandmother till her funeral #and i think interacting with other black people. especially other black women would be good for claudia and it would keep grace around #which i think is a good tether for louis #plus i just deepky enjoyed grace and wanted to see her more #and claudia should have a space away from that fuckin house like let her go to her auntie house and get cornrows from her cousins

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)

✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.

✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.

✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.

 

 When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock. 

 Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night. 

 I don’t do favorites. 

 I damn sure don’t give discounts. 

 And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed. 

 My favorite customer. 

 Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good. 

 I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy. 

 I fucked Y/N once. 

 Then, twice. 

 Then, again.

 And again.

 And again…

 If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.

 No. 

 It is. 

 So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy. 

 The perfect fuck to end my day. 

 Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild. 

 But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk. 

 Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty. 

 “You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response. 

 Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion. 

 She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper. 

 I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client. 

 But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this. 

 Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively. 

 “Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”

 I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”

 By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is. 

 Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes. 

 “Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”

 “Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.

 “I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”

 I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”

 Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me. 

 “Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.” 

 Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me. 

 She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit. 

 My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes. 

 A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.

 I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process. 

 Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me. 

 “Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.” 

 “Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle. 

 “Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat. 

 My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum. 

 Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess. 

 Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy. 

 Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.

 Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker. 

 No hesitation. I-

 “Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop. 

 I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.

 A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn. 

 Good, because I’m not finished with her. 

 “All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”

 Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck. 

 I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt. 

 Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust. 

 “Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”

 “I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans. 

 Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds. 

 I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked. 

 My name drips perfectly from her lips.

 Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning. 

 “Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.

 “Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”

 I chuckle. “Atta girl.”

 I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.

 I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”

 “God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me. 

 “Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”

 “Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts. 

 “Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”

 I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center. 

 Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans. 

 I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me. 

 I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.

 Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like? 

 “You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”

 She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”

 “Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”

 My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy. 

 And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm. 

 Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too. 

 Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record. 

 Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck. 

 My favorite customer. 

© 2024 tojiscumdumpster Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost (sharing links is okay) anywhere. I only upload on tumblr and you will find some of my work in ao3.

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #anime fanfic #fanfic smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x black reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x black reader

[ncteez]

Menace (m.yg)

When you learn of a hostage within the confines of the abandoned apartment building downtown, you weren’t expecting it to be Min Yoongi, the most wanted man in the country by gangs and policemen alike.  or the one where yoongi wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a situation with his own enemy, nor was he prepared to be kept alive by and ultimately infatuated with one that calls herself Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend. 

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give gangster yoongi a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 11k

PAIRING― gangster!yoongi x afab reader

CONTENT― yoongi is mad that he has to be submissive sexually, smut, grotesque descriptions of blood and gore, food mentions, you’re still really soft despite being surrounded by killers. FYI: the use of the word brother in this fic is not indicating that the characters are blood related.

SIDE CHARACTERS― namjoon as the leader of a gang and also your boyfriend, jungkook as a fellow gang member on your end. 

WARNINGS― namjoon is fucking awful, yoongi is a lil mean but still a big softie, intense descriptions of starvation, torture methods, and broken fingers, mentions of suicide, mentions of r*pe (in passing), mentions of killing methods like drowning, stabbing, shooting, catching on fire. fr, this fic is very unsavory but they still fuck so, take that as you will. 

NOTE― listen. this started as a different idea and ended as this so, fr,  don’t even read it. if you do, just be aware that I am not responsible for the content you consume, i’m just responsible for being down bad enough to write it :) if you send me an off hand message you will be blocked for not knowing how to avoid content you don’t like. bye  (p.s. we are just gonna pretend that people do not need to use the bathroom in this fic bc im not about to find a work around to let this man relieve himself. no piss or shit will be mentioned in this fic or in any of my fics ever. thanks.) 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pain, making out, frottage, biting, dirty talk, mocking, uh….getting turned on by the idea of Namjoon dying, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of eating pussy, mentions of multiple orgasms

~

The leaking ceiling was somehow nicer sounding than the one in his apartment, and his bruised ribs feel less painful now that he’s laid here for three days on the cold and molded floor. Plenty of time to heal, plenty of time to think, and plenty of time to build up a distinct type of rage within his body. 

If he hadn’t made that tiny mistake, he would be at the shop surrounded by faces that are sworn to protect him. He would be swimming in money, women, and eating only the finest delicacies this city has to offer. But no, he had to trust the wrong fucking person. 

It was impressive actually, that the man going by the name of “John” managed to slip through the cracks. Yoongi grew fond of him quickly, especially with how eager the newcomer was to kill and maim not only alongside him, but for him without a single doubt. 

He should have known that he was experienced, especially with the way he killed, with the way he drank, with the way he fucked every woman accepted in the confines of the hideout. He should have known that he was in a gang already, and that said group had been out to get him for years.

Jungkook was his real name. A man who had been given endearing nicknames from both himself and other high-ranking men within this gang. He answered most to the name of “Jojo”, looking Yoongi dead in the eye with vicious intent and loyalty. He was a good liar, better than himself, apparently.

Yoongi really messed up, learning the truth only when he was met with Namjoon, face to face and battered up black and blue before being restrained and left in this unknown location. Naturally, there is a type of rage within him right now that could kill a large sum of men in one breath. 

Unfortunately, he can’t. His wrists have been bound in the same position for three days, and he has still been unable to unbind them. His legs are numb from the stomping, but still working through the intense pain of his attempts at slithering across the floor to find a new spot on the cold ground. 

The room is empty, there is nothing save for a chair in the corner and a doorknob that remains locked. There is only a single window, both the walls and floor are concrete and cinderblocks, and the only sound he’s heard since his last broken finger cracked through his ears, is the sound of that fucking water dripping. 

He lifts his head, only to drop it back to the floor in a huff. Not quite in a sound of defeat, but more so a sound of frustration. Surely the men who did this have already been killed, surely his loyal friends are searching for him. Surely–

A new sound. 

Yoongi can barely comprehend hearing something other than the slow and consistent drip, drip, drip of the ceiling leaking just a few feet from him. He’s grown weak within the three days he spent here, delirious even. No food and only those very drips of water to quench his sore and dried out throat. That sound is familiar though, and his drowsy eyes can hardly make sense of it. 

Then another new sound. Something clicking. Echoing through these empty walls and meshing with the two other sounds, creating a new song in his head that somehow seems like bliss. 

He thinks hard about the tune in his head, wondering if it’s similar to a song he knows, or if he’s just going insane from the feeling of his stomach both healing and starving. It is too much sensation for him, as he curls up in a pathetic little ball of a person and wonders what the others would think to see him like this.

He lays there, thinking about those sounds becoming louder and louder before his eyes shoot open in realization.

Those are footsteps.

An immediate headache hits him when he forces his body up, sitting uncomfortable on the floor with his arms still twisted behind his back. He stares at the door in wait, wondering if it’ll be his brothers bursting through, or an enemy. 

When that door opens though, his face twists similar to the way it did when he was getting held down and his fingers snapped to the side. 

“F-” he tries to say upon seeing Jungkook for the first time since it all went down, but his throat is too dry to speak and he coughs instead. 

“Happy to see me?” Jungkook smiles, stepping to the side to reveal another person with him. 

Yoongi glares, not paying attention even the slightest to the person standing just behind him. That clicking sound matched her shoes, so pristine against this dirty floor. He doesn’t dare speak again, as his eyes trail down to the gun in Jungkook's hand, and then shift to the side at the plastic bag in her hand. 

He can make out a bottle, and possibly, food. He won’t grove for it though, no. 

~

“Damn, you guys really fucked  him up. I never thought you actually caught him.” You smile in an uneasy way, walking back alongside Jungkook and making your way out of the building. 

“Told you we got him. Namjoon seemed really pleased, you think he’s finally going to let me into the circle?” Jungkook’s shining eyes somehow seem innocent with that question as you look at him. 

“If he wasn’t fond of you, he wouldn’t have let you escort me here,” You start, lowering your sunglasses from your head to your eyes to avoid the bright sunlight once you step outside. “He would have brought me himself. You’re already in.”

“You certainly complained enough wanting to see, I was shocked he even let you this time, even more shocked that he asked me to bring you.” 

Jungkook smiles again, wanting to pat himself on the back for his hard and dedicated work to Namjoon. He’s a harsh man but one that he wants on his side nonetheless. If this is going to be his life he’d rather be sitting in the room drinking expensive liquor than out running the streets and committing petty crimes. 

This was his deal and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t fuck it up again. He was very nearly kicked out, and by kicked out, he means killed by Namjoon himself. Why? Well, as experienced as he is at killing, fighting, and being an asshole, he wasn’t too experienced with smuggling substances across country lines. 

He got it easy though, thankfully being caught by one of them that resides within the government factions. Then again, that man ran straight to Namjoon and complained on his name, stating that they were all at risk of being caught if it wasn’t for the nim-witted officer he was stationed with that night. 

Started off well enough, Jungkook coughed the wrong way and his hands shook slightly. The officer immediately wanted to search the vehicle. Thankfully, one of theirs took over, and what did he find? Exactly what was he knew would be there.

Namjoon was pissed at the situation. Hauling Jungkook in as if he were one of their hostages, towering above him on the floor and tipping his head back with the heel of his expensive boot. 

“What should I do with you now?” Namjoon said to him, huffing in a gutteral way out of frustration. “You’re telling me you can kill three men without breaking a sweat but you can’t get through a security check without shivering in fear?!” 

Jungkook knows better than to speak, he simply nods. 

“You’re lucky it went down the way it did, and you’re lucky your cousin put in a good word for you.” Namjoon continued, crouching down to Jungkook’s level on the floor and looking him in the eye. “If you fuck this one up, you’re done.” 

Honestly, he couldn’t believe the kindness Namjoon gave to him. He’s known for having a temper, and he’s known for being unforgiving, but he got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 

That deal was to run off and act much like he did while trying to smuggle those drugs. Be a puppy for another gang, get close, get in with the crowd, and then get Min Yoongi. The man who killed Namjoon’s closest brother  some four years ago. His grudge never left, and unfortunately, Yoongi was very nearly untouchable. 

Jungkook did his duty, and now, he’s in. The girlfriend of Namjoon himself said so and with that, he can’t help but feel proud when he sees that man suffering in the room alone. He can’t help but be happy as he escorts you back to Namjoon. Truly, he can’t help it. 

~ 

“We can’t just starve him.” You argue another three days after you last saw proof of the man confined in that abandoned building. 

“This is why I forbid you from seeing the hostages. ” Namjoon tries not to argue with you, but it’s gotten to the point that you really just need to sit down and shut up about it. “He killed the only other man I could trust, and you want me to give him a fucking menu?” 

“Well, no but,” You start, but Namjoon cuts you off. 

“That’s enough. If you’re so worried about him tell Jungkook to swing by with some dog food.” 

You look to the floor with a short nod, knowing for a fact that this is just the way it goes. You figured your boyfriend would want to strangle the man with his bare hands rather than let him rot away slowly. There’s too many opportunities for Yoongi to be found there, and far too many variables in the situation. The least he can have is a meal before he dies, right? 

Then again, you know you’re quite soft despite the lifestyle you live. Min Yoongi is not a good man, but he is still a man. You’re a bit curious about him too. He was kind of cute even as he sat on that floor battered, so those rumors about him being easy on the eyes were true. Not that a scale of attractiveness really matters, considering he’s killed people from this family with a smile on his face. 

You think hard that night, alone in bed as Namjoon probably mingles around the club he recently took control of. Imagining how awful the hostage must feel, all alone in the dark. It  has you thinking a bit too hard about what it means to be human. You know where that apartment building is, and you know where the nearest convenience store is. Jungkook already knows you tried to feed him once and it didn’t work (because Yoongi kicked it across the floor out of spite.), so you’re unsure of how it would go down if you went alone.

Still, it’s not like you’d be in any danger, not when you grab one of the guns and slide it into an empty purse. 

~

Arriving at the building feels scarier than it did when Jungkook was with you. It’s dark, and you can hear creaking as the wind picks up and rain begins to fall. Still, you take a deep breath and rush inside with another offer of food. 

You follow your footsteps from before. Left, left, down a flight of stairs, right, and left. The hallway that contains his prison feels much longer than before, and the sound of rain is nearly muted at this point. You feel as if you’re buried deep within a tomb, with a flashy and loud bag of snacks for a man that killed your boyfriend’s brother. 

It feels silly, but you still think you could at least try to communicate with him. However stupid this decision is, you pay no mind.

When you get to the door, the room is so dark and quiet that you wonder if you either picked the wrong room or he’s dead already. Still, you flip on the flashlight you grabbed and place it on the chair in the corner, shining it directly at the man lying on the floor. 

You take a moment to look around and smile slightly when you notice the food he kicked from him before has been eaten. Surely that pack of crackers and bottled water wasn’t enough, but it’s all Jungkook would let slide without fearing for his life again. 

“Hi.” You say in a peppy voice, seemingly in a much better spot than he is and accidentally making it more obvious. 

Yoongi groans, rolling over to look at you briefly before letting his head fall back to the floor. 

“I brought food again. There’s more this time.” You smile when you say it, shaking the bag as if Yoongi truly were a dog that would jump and do tricks for the food. “It’s against the rules, and I’m not supposed to be here so I suggest you fucking appreciate it this time.”

He rolls his eyes as he lies there, weak and hardly able to move. He does try though, more willing now to grovel, more willing to do just about anything for food so he can at least get his thoughts straight. 

You watch him struggle to sit up, and only now realize that he really is dying. He’s actually starving and probably can’t simply appreciate the food if he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up. 

“Do you need some help?” You ask, walking around and shining the light at his face.

You’re taken aback by his eyes. They’re dull and lifeless as he gives a small nod. You can see that he’s silently pleading. 

“Ah, right. Starvation and all that.” You say with a pained laugh, grabbing the bag and scooting it next to him before crouching down and trying to lift him up.

His body is horrendously lightweight, and something inside of you twists at the feeling of him slumped in your arms. You hold him there, listening to his pained groans as you glance around the room and start to drag him. 

“Here, sit up,” You say, propping him against the wall and going back for the bag. “I’ve got two sandwiches, two bottles of water, and an ibuprofen.”

You see his pained and choked chuckle at the mention of an ibuprofen, as if that’s a bandaid for the immense amount of anguish he’s been feeling. Still, he relishes in the feeling of another person being near him. The energy alone helps him keep his eyes open. 

“Can you chew?” You ask, looking at him as you unwrap a sandwich and try to place it against his lips. “Um,” 

You feel defeated seeing someone in this state so closely. Regardless of what he’s done, you feel pity and slight disgust of his treatment. No wonder Namjoon forbids you most of the time from meeting hostages or looking at crime scenes as if it were a zoo for your entertainment. 

“You must feel awful,” You whisper, trying again to push the sandwich past his lips. “Can you eat this for me?” 

He tries. Opening his mouth and feeling the sensation of taste. His mouth waters and burns at the sudden feeling, drool running out of the sides of his lips as he tries to work up the energy to chew. His throat is too dry to swallow though, and he chokes on the barely chewed piece of sandwich.

You’re quick to grab a bottle of water and tilt his head back. You grab his cheeks and hold his head steady and his mouth open, pouring a bit of the water into his mouth and watching how long it takes for him to swallow both the food and the water. 

“God, I know I should be hating you but this really is pitiful.” You comment, feeling as if you’re already talking to a corpse.

In a way you are, and you hate it. So maybe, knowing that Namjoon intends to leave this man here unbothered and unfed until he’s dead, surely you can…you know…help the situation.

~

On one end, you’re betraying an entire gang of men and women who have protected you for years. You’re betraying your boyfriend, the leader of that gang, but…humanity still exists within you. Since that night, feeding a viscous killer, you couldn’t stop thinking of the state he was in.

You knew Namjoon was a killer but he never let you see that side of him. You saw Yoongi once three days after his capture and he still looked alive and well despite being heavily beaten. And just those three days later, you saw how much the world seemed to have forgotten him.

You have heard whispers of the rival gang searching for him, but they have been met with no luck. You appear to be his only saving grace, which is a terrifying place to have put yourself in. Still, if they’re going to kill him, you’d rather they just shoot him in the head and leave it at that. 

You’re meddling where you shouldn’t be, and you still have no idea why you feel compelled to do it. 

On the other end, you find yourself in deep shit when you continue to visit Yoongi late at night to essentially undo what your boyfriend has ordered. You notice how far you’ve gone when Yoongi can start talking, when he can start moving, when his eyes brighten up a little more, when his cheeks become fuller. 

The moment you see him, with faded bruises and still swollen fingers, you wonder what he looked like without being so fucked up. His face is still pretty, even when he was on the verge of death, and here you are watching him appreciate that you, an enemy, continue to keep him alive.

“He’s going to kill you for this, you know.” Yoongi comments, eating away at the meal you’ve brought him this time. “Feeding me so often. I’m pretty sure they were leaving me here to die.”

“They were.” You huff, sitting on the wooden chair and watching the way his energy grows. “I figure if I get caught, I’ll just kill you first and then myself.”

“Bold,” He ticks his tongue, still not looking away from the food in front of him. “I can imagine they think I’m already dead.” 

A wave of cold fear hits you. That’s right. Surely by now, he would be dead, and surely they’d come check and hide the body or something. But no one has shown up, no one but you. You can imagine that by now, they’re probably planning to come see him, and seeing him alive and well would pose questions. Lots of questions.

Thankfully, no one notices when you leave at night. You never leave when Namjoon stays with you, and you never make yourself suspicious either. If they have any questions, they certainly wouldn’t expect you to be the one to answer them.

“So, why’d you kill him?” You ask, wondering if you can at least learn some information about him before all of this comes crashing down around him.

“Kill who? I’ve killed a lot of people, most of them I don’t even know their names.” He laughs, narrowing his eyes at you. “Who are you, anyway?”

You pause. He’s still a dead man despite that beating heart so telling him wouldn’t change a thing, you assume. You give him your name and follow up with your title.

“You’re dating that pompous asshole? You know what he did to my family, right?” Yoongi looks at you with a face you hadn't seen before. There’s a lot of hate behind it as he sneers at you. 

“I don’t, no. But I can imagine he probably killed them, right?”

Yoongi nods with a grimace, for the first time losing his appetite. It’s laughable, really. 

“If you’re referring to his friend, I shot him. It was a quick death. But do you know what he did to my friends?” He continues with an evil smirk, as if telling you will hurt you as much as he’s been hurt. 

You shake your head, breathing in deeply at the images in your head.

“Well, you saw what he was doing to me. I’m shocked he was being so kind with my demise.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, both curious and afraid to actually learn what he means.

“Have you ever seen what happens to a body after they’ve been floating in murky water for a week?” 

You shake your head.

“Have you ever heard the snap of a neck?” 

You again, shake your head.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” He laughs, now gaining his appetite back. “Both of those things, I'd love to do to your boyfriend.” 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for some reason, you don’t shiver.

“Are you saying those are things he’s done?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Well, yeah. Most of us have. But him. He’s particularly brutal, likes to send us videos, y’know? I bet you’ve never watched the only person you’ve ever loved get doused in gasoline and set on fire either, have you?”

You freeze, another chill running down your body. Namjoon did that? Like, you knew killing was part of it but you really expected a typical gunshot or stabbing. This, this is something else. Given, you watched him starve the man in front of you so, should it be as shocking as it is? 

But it is, because he did this to someone’s girlfriend? You’re his girlfriend, and by doing that to Yoongi, surely that put a hit on your head. 

“He’s not so pretty in your head now, huh?” Another laugh. 

“Is that why you killed him?” You ask, trying to avert the attention to someone other than Namjoon. 

“No. Unfortunately, I was the one who did the first hit. But to be fair,” Yoongi twists his wrists bound behind him and tilts his head in a playful way. “He did some unsavory things to that same person I loved.” 

Unsavory things. You can’t imagine what that could be outside of, well, rape. Namjoon’s best friend, his brother, raped Yoongi’s girlfriend. And then Namjoon set her on fire in retaliation? 

“Why are you so quiet now?” Yoongi asks, finishing off his food with little to no hesitation and staring at the water. “Not too happy to learn that I’m not the only piece of shit you seem to cling to?”

You take offense to that, eyes trailing to that same bottle of water he’s looking at. 

“Fuck you.” You say, standing from your place and grabbing that bottle of water, opening it, and pouring it out on the floor in front of him. “If you're thirsty, there, have at it.” 

You don’t even look at him when you turn and walk away, locking the door and promising yourself that you won’t come back. There’s no way Namjoon did those things, and you’re not fucking clinging. 

~

Fortunately for Yoongi, no one unsavory shows up two days later. It’s you again, reluctantly stepping in with his delivery of food and energy. 

“Here I was thinking you wouldn’t come back.” He laughs, scooting from the wall and toward you. By now his legs are feeling better, and he can even move some of his fingers, which is very lucky because he really thought they had been twisted. 

“You’re lucky I did.” You deadpan, walking up to him and looking down. “I learned that maybe you’re not much of a liar, are you?” 

He tilts his head at you with a smirk, nodding his head in a genuine way. 

“I’m either going to die, or you are. What’s the point in keeping secrets?”

You nod brokenly, breathing in a deep sigh and still trying to process the things you confirmed on your own. Jungkook may be in, but he sure does have a loud mouth when you start asking him questions. The good news is that, if Namjoon found out Jungkook shared those secrets, he’d be on the chopping block again. So, he’s kind of stuck with you in this limbo of wondering who to trust and who not to trust. 

You, now fearing your own boyfriend who not only holds you on the nights he’s home, but tells you he loves you, feel at a loss when you look at Yoongi. 

Both men have committed atrocities and it’s funny how you expected them to have not been that way. At least the man before you told you the truth though. He protected a person he loved, and Namjoon killed people for it. 

“Yoongi.” You say his name for the first time and he grimaces immediately at it. 

“What makes you think we are on a first name basis?” He asks, snidely. 

“I had to feed you like a fucking baby, I can call you whatever I damn well please.” You argue, stepping back and reaching for the chair to sit in front of him. 

“You think you can just call me whatever you want because you chose to fuck your life up and keep me alive?” He laughs again, clearly very aware of the position he’s in but still unafraid. “So fucking clingy. I don’t see how he stands it.”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek at the audacity of this man. 

“Have you ever heard of saying “Thank you”?” You ask, rolling your eyes and kicking him over. 

He falls with a huff, but lays there chuckling about it. 

“Either way, Jungkook said he was ordered to come here in two days to get rid of your body. So, I suggest you either roll over and die or we figure something out.”

“We?” He questions, sitting himself back up and looking at you with a raised brow. “So, you’re working for me now?”

You look around the room, wanting to cry because it damn well seems that way considering what you’ve learned. Namjoon would probably kill you without blinking . Unfortunately, yeah, maybe you are.

“It seems so.” You look at him, noticing how his once dull and lifeless eyes are full of energy and rage. Noticing even more how he looks up and down your body.

You can imagine the man is touch starved, and for some reason, that is…kind of attractive. Such a wanted man checking you out as if you both aren’t on the verge of being shoved into a morgue freezer. 

“Oh yeah?” His eyes stay roaming, and then he flicks them back up at you. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, it’s pretty hot to know you’re turning your back on that piece of shit.” 

In his head, he’s very clearly barely back to reality. After all, he’s been in this room entirely alone save for you. Nearly dying and then coming back from the brink of death because of you. Is it so wrong for him to kind of, you know, be a man in such a dire situation? 

“I haven’t turned my back on him! I’m just,” You pause, going quiet for a moment to think. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can accept what he’s done.”

“And so, you’re asking me what to do so we both don’t get killed? Hate to tell you babe, but even if you chose to stay, I'd tell them the second they find me alive that you’re the one who fed me.” 

You glare at him, knowing that you’re both facing a brick wall with guns pointed to your head. 

“I bet you would.” 

“He and I are pretty similar, watching you die wouldn’t sting even a tiny bit.” He continues, poking and pushing the buttons he realizes you have. “Thank you though.”

You look down at him, tilting your head and, for some reason, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” You say, standing to your feet and walking around him. 

He protests the second he feels your arms snake around him and try to lift him. His body now having a bit more weight to it, you feel pleased that you kept him alive, for some reason.

“Sit on the chair.” You say, still tugging him up and noticing how he wobbles on his legs. 

Yoongi says nothing, for some reason no longer fighting and instead focusing on seeing if his legs still work. Somehow, they’re not broken, and he’s able to stand on them for a brief moment before leaning the entirety of his weight on you. 

“Clingy.” He laughs in an out of breath whisper, fumbling to the chair and finally falling into it. 

“Did you love your girlfriend?” You ask, stepping back and looking at him propped in his chair. 

“I did.” He admits, looking straight past you and at the wall. “Can’t now though.”

You look to the ground. 

“Would you have killed her if she kept Namjoon alive behind your back?” You ask.

“No.” He admits again, laughing at himself. “Would have killed myself before I ever laid a hand on her.” 

You think hard about the similarities between Yoongi and Namjoon, but you struggle to find many of them. Which is terrifying.

“So, you really think Namjoon would kill me for the same reasons?”

“Babe,” He lets out a pained laugh for you, shaking his head in pity. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

You nod your head, because you honestly think he would too. 

“So, what now?” You ask, knowing there is no answer to the question. 

“I’d suggest you run home to him.” He says, nodding his head to the door as if to encourage you. “I don’t suppose I can expect you to accidentally let one of my family members know where I am though, can I?”

“No,” you say sadly, trying to force the tears threatening to shed to stay behind your eyelids. “I suppose you can’t.”

It’s silent for a long while, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Realizing how much safer you feel in this prison compared to in bed next to Namjoon. It’s frightening, truly, that you could be killed simply for having humanity. Yoongi’s girlfriend was killed because his humanity drove him to revenge. Maybe you’re the one more similar to Yoongi. 

“I’m not really going to tell them, you know.” Yoongi calls out, dropping his head and looking at you from under his messy hair. “I might kill, but rarely without reason. I’m satisfied enough with the idea that you might leave him.”

You stare at him.

“You’re too naive to be involved with all of this. He seems to do a pretty shit job at protecting you, considering you’re here with me.”

You continue to look at him, questioning every word he’s saying. 

“You’re pretty similar to her, you know? I mean, minus the whole going behind his back thing.” Yoongi smiles when he looks at you, and arguably that expression hits you right in the gut. 

“If I untie you, would you come after me?” You ask, studying him. 

“Maybe, who knows?” He watches you go behind him anyway. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?” 

His eyes light up at the feeling of you behind him, hoping to god you’re truly weak hearted enough to untie him. He could run, he could fulfill this rage growing in his heart, but those hopes are shattered when you come back into view. 

You lean down, inches from his face and look directly into his eyes. Searching for a reason to think he would kill you the instant you untie those hands. What you see instead, is his eyes flicking to your lips. 

You, in turn, flick your eyes to his and you don’t even know why you do it. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming feeling of death looming over the two of you. You hold Yoongi’s life in your hands, and he technically holds your life in his if he were to tell on you. The feeling is driven solely by fear, disgust, hate, pity.

You kiss him. His breath not offering much outside of the citrus fruit he had eaten when you offered it to him just an hour earlier. 

It’s silent, and you can imagine he truly could have gone insane in this room all by himself. You feel yourself going insane too, despite feeling safer. 

And when you pull back reluctantly, Yoongi’s eyes shine a little differently. His smirk is still scary but his eyes are soft and pleading. That dull look in his eyes from the first night you fed him? That tiny little glint of need shining through to you? That is showing in full force and you wonder if he notices it. 

“He’d definitely kill you.” Yoongi laughs, still looking at you. 

It’s silent again, save for a few quick breaths leaving your chest. You give him a short nod, because you know he’s right and there’s no point in denying it at this point.

“But I wouldn’t.”

All you can do is fall farther into the insanity that fills this room at that. Leaning in and kissing him again, this time a bit more desperate, releasing all of the tension inside of you on him as you bring your body closer, and straddle his sore and weak legs. 

“Are you asking to die?” He comments at your closeness, confirming that you may actually be as clingy as he joked that you were. It appears that death doesn’t seem to scare you at this moment, nor does it scare him. 

If anything, having Namjoon’s girl straddling his lap without so much as asking for it is a new kind of desire in his mind. Namjoon may have killed his ex girlfriend, but he didn’t fuck her. Which, arguably, isn’t worse than losing her but still makes his heart race with anger at the thought. The idea of taking you from that man even for a moment is blissful. An ultimate insult, one that would piss Namjoon off beyond belief. Surely he’d be left in a different room to be eaten by rats next time he makes an attempt on his life. 

“Hm?” Yoongi continues, letting you kiss him, feeling your weight on his sore body, kind of loving the feeling because he hasn’t touched a woman since his girlfriend died. But if he’s going to end up dead, he might as well fuck Namjoon’s girlfriend beforehand, right? 

“Maybe I am,” you answer, breathlessly. “Are you?” You ask, leaning back and looking at him.

“You do realize I’m one of the most wanted men in this country, right?” He laughs, smirking and feeling quite cocky with the turn of events. 

“That,” You eye him, feeling his length twitch beneath you. “you are.” 

He chuckles, noting that you’re suddenly complimenting him now.

“Wanted by you wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but alright.” He shrugs, pressing his hips up and against you. “Can you at least untie my hands if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this?”

You shake your head, lifting off of him a bit and checking that his hands are still bound. 

“No,” You laugh, sitting back down and noticing his harsh reaction to your weight on his legs again. “Does your dick still work?”

Yoongi glares, unsure of how he feels about fucking someone while bound and in pain like this, but who is he to say no? Again, Namjoon’s girlfriend. Rage and revenge. If he can live through a heavy beating and starvation, surely he can handle a girl bouncing on his cock. 

“It appears so,” He says, feeling the twitch in his pants fight against the pain of his legs. “Why, you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe, who knows?” You respond, leaning back down and biting hard against his neck. 

He glares at the wall, seemingly enthralled with the idea but still not entirely happy with the situation at hand. He’s not typically the person to be fucked, and yet, here you are moving your hips against his battered body, bumping against his cock each time. 

Shaking himself out of it, he has to remember that again, this is Namjoon’s girlfriend and he wants to fuck her for no other reason than pissing him off. So, whatever. 

“Are you this eager with him too?” He asks, trying to crane his neck from your biting mouth to get you to look at him. “or am I just lucky?”

Lucky, hah. You scoff against his neck before pulling back to look at him. 

“You really do talk a lot of shit, you know that?” You say, deliberately pressing more weight against his legs to elicit a pained groan out of him. 

“I’ve been told, yes.” He groans in a half laugh, not wanting to appear as broken as you know he has been. “You’re still the one trying to fuck enemy number one though.” 

Internally, your heart is racing. 

“Maybe I’m the lucky one then?” You offer, moaning a bit at the feeling of how hard he’s gotten despite the state of his body. “Most wanted man in the country right? Sitting right here, tied up, at my mercy.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Namjoon liked to be slapped around.” Yoongi laughs, wincing again at both the pain and pleasure you’re offering to him. 

“He doesn’t.” You respond, tilting your head before leaning in close to his ear. “I’m the one who likes that.” 

His arms shake within their bounds, broken fingers be damned he still has another hand to use. 

“Then fucking untie me,” He grouches, huffing out through his nose and attempting to push you away by shifting his legs. “If you like it so much, let me do it.” 

You shake your head again, this time with your own pitied laugh. 

“You’d kill me. I know you said you wouldn’t but you were just trying to get on my good side.” You coo out at him after your comment, ghosting your lips over his. “It must hurt pretty bad to know how pathetic you look right now.” 

He very nearly spits at you for looking down on him with intent. Sure, before you probably looked down on him because he was literally dying. But now? This is a blatant insult, and he can’t help but feel some of that rage build up within him. 

“Pathetic?” He laughs, staring down at the way your hips continue to move. “You’re the one getting yourself off on a man who would kill your boyfriend in an instant.” 

“Do it then.” you say, unsure of why you’re suddenly so okay with the idea of murder. Maybe because if Yoongi did it, you know he’d probably be quick with it. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in describing such gory scenes to you, so clearly he must not like to savor them either. Not like Namjoon, who appears to favor giving others a long and painful death. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi calls out, being entirely aroused by your willingness to tell him to kill your boyfriend. The thought of hurting him alone could get Yoongi off within seconds. The relief of killing the man who caused so much pain would be better than any orgasm or twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine. 

“Say that again,” Yoongi groans, replaying those words you just said in his head. His own hips moving against you now. “Say it and I swear I’ll kill him when I get out of here.” 

You don’t comment at first. “when I get out of here.” he said, as if he knows for a fact you’ll untie him. As if he trusts that you’re with him one hundred percent. Hell, at this point, maybe you are. Feeling so unsafe and so very aware of how dead you actually may become, fighting to keep yourself alive is easier to swallow than letting your own boyfriend kill you for betraying him. Fight or flight, the brain works so strangely when it needs to survive. 

“Do it,” You repeat, hearing his breath hitch in an embarrassing way. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

He nods proudly, still writhing his arms and wanting so badly to be free, not even to escape at this point, but to hold onto your waist and feel more of that pain you offer to him. 

“Fucking untie me.” He demands, legs shaking as he continues to try and chase the rhythm of your harsh grinding hips. “You think I’d kill you when you’re talking to me like this?” 

“I think you would.” You laugh, now pulling back off of his lap and standing to your feet in front of him. 

You look down at him, his cock towering in his dirty jeans. For some reason, you’re not disgusted by the fact that he’s filthy. You’re more disgusted with the idea of going home and smelling the shampoo Namjoon uses to wash the blood out of his hair. 

“I wouldn't.” He repeats himself, now moving back and forth in his chair to try and unbind his hands much like he did the first night he was here. “If i planned on killing you, i’d fuck you first anyway.”

You narrow your eyes, watching him try to break free before you lunge forward and lean over him again. Much like before, you grab his face and force him to look into your eyes. 

“I’m not untying you.” You say sternly, as if to warn him that it’s the final time you’ll say it. “You have two days left, and I’m not coming back after this.”

“I know.” He admits, bucking his hips up at nothing. “So, if you could just pull my dick out and get to it, I'd really appreciate it.”

You poke your tongue to your cheek again, wondering how the fuck this man manages to stay so confident in such a position. You wonder even harder why you listen to him. 

Just as he asked, you lower yourself to your knees and lay your head on his knee. For a moment, he watches you and understands why Namjoon must like you so much. You’re pretty down there, with playful eyes even in the face of death. You’re definitely something else. One, for ending up with Namjoon, and two, for ending up in this room with him like this. 

“I think you could probably drive anyone insane,” Yoongi says in a voice that seems too soft for him. “If he’s really stupid enough to kill you for giving him the chance to kill me again, he’s a lot more dumb than I expected.”

You smile, blinking up at his compliment. 

“Thank you.” You say, feeling so lost in this situation that at this point, you feel like you’d rather just stay here and let Jungkook find you both two days from now. It’s a fucked up situation on all ends, but at least you feel okay right now, with your chin resting on a killer’s knee, glancing at his cock, wondering how you want to pleasure it. 

He stops talking by this point, bucking his hips to encourage you to stop staring and pull it out. The sound of his clothing rubbing against that old wooden chair suddenly feels loud, and your ears begin to ring as your heart picks up. 

There is a specific realization in this moment regarding all of that humanity that drove you to this point. Helping this man is one thing, but wanting him is something completely different. In your head, you question everything you feel at this moment. Are you chasing comfort from none other than, and he was right to say it, the most wanted man in the country? More wanted than Namjoon? Perhaps that’s because Namjoon has other’s do his dirty work though. Yoongi appears to kill personally, and quickly. It’s no wonder he got caught by the gang you call family. 

You remember being told that they got him, and that he was to be killed. You remember mocking Namjoon, complaining that you wouldn’t believe it until you saw him. You remember Jungkook sitting in the driver’s side of the car and driving you here for the first time, and you remember that one of your first thoughts about Yoongi was that he didn’t look much like a gang leader lying on the floor like that. You thought he was cute, almost puppy like in his defiance. 

When he spilled all of those truths about Namjoon and the men and women you are surrounded with, you did lean more into Yoongi than the people who claim to love you. You didn’t know why you kept him alive, you didn’t know why you betrayed those you love. If anything, you know now that is was simply humanity. 

Something that you cling to, and something that the majority of people around you have thrown away. When you look at Yoongi though, alive because of you, you see his humanity too. There is a fire in his eye that doesn't sing out for rage and blood, no. It’s a look you couldn’t find in Namjoon’s eye just a day before. Humanity brought you to save this man, and it also brought you to find him attractive despite his state, and it also brought you to this. Wanting him.

Wanting to comfort him from those atrocities your boyfriend committed toward him, because you can defend why Yoongi killed the man who once brought you a cake for your birthday. You wanted to keep him alive because somehow, in your gut, you knew he didn’t deserve to die this way. 

And now, so terrified of what this situation might bring, you’re turned on by fear. The arousal of him talking so much shit, complimenting you through insults, looking at you in a way Namjoon never did drives a distinct type of butterfly within your belly. You fear every single person outside of this room, but Yoongi. You want him to yourself. 

Yoongi watches you against his knee, seemingly in deep thought as your face falls and lightens up with realization. He finds himself smiling at the situation. He was really quite lucky for Namjoon to be dating such a woman. If he hadn't been, surely he would be dead and limp in the corner, rotting until his body is hidden elsewhere two days from now. But he’s not, his heart is beating and his cock is raging much like the hate in his heart for the men who seemed to have claimed you.

Don’t get him wrong though, it’s not that he likes you in the way Namjoon seems to. He gets why he does though. The fact of the matter is that you put yourself in a terrifying situation to keep him alive for no reason that has truly been given. It’s natural for him to owe you now, and what he owes you is nothing short of his own life for putting yourself in the line of fire like this. 

Yoongi does like you though. Likes the way you look at death the same way he does, being reckless and making mistakes despite clearly having some sort of intelligence. His attraction to you comes in the form that you’re a woman, you’re Namjoon’s woman, you’re attractive, and you really did give him his life back. Even still restrained, he’s turned on beyond belief. Never having been put in a situation where he fucks the inevitable out of his mind, but it’s exactly what he intends to do. 

Not just to spite Kim Namjoon, but also to somehow repay you. You got on top of him, you kissed him, and if you want to fuck the life of out him, he owes you that much too. At least when you leave him here, if you leave him here, he knows that he made you feel good too. 

“Well?” He finally says, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts and making your eyes shoot back up to him. “You just gonna look at it or?”

You blink twice before glancing back down at his cock and feel the resolve within you strengthen. Your mind is suddenly so clear when you reach forward and unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs and completely off of him.

You gasp when you see how bruised his legs are, realizing that you were just sitting directly on them. Thankfully, again, they’re not broken but you can imagine the weakness he feels. 

“Oh.” You breathe out, letting your fingers ghost over one of the deepest and darkest bruises. Shaped like a boot and showing a pattern that looks very similar to the pair of boots your boyfriend wears. You watch him wince at the energy of your fingers, not even touching the spot but simply close enough to still somehow manage to hurt him. 

“I’ve had worse,” he urges you, leaning forward a bit and looking at you. “What, you think I can’t handle a couple of bruises?”

You look up at him, trying to push the range of colors against his skin out of your mind as your eyes land and focus back between his legs. Not surprising that it can distract you almost instantly as it stands against the last remaining restraining fabric. 

His hips buck up when he sees your hands go for the waistband of his underwear, licking his lower lip with a silent chant in his head of yes, yes, yes! Perhaps it’s because he lost his mind, but it’s really not such a bad deal to be able to get so turned on in a situation like this. After all, he owes you, so he might as well get into it, right? 

When you pull off his underwear, instantly you’re just staring. In awe that he can manage to be turned on at all right now, ultimately quite happy that it still works too.

“I bet all the girls love getting fucked by you.” You comment, staring at his cock and the way it stands more lively than the rest of his body. 

“On the contrary babe. I don’t fuck just anyone.” He chuckles snidely, looking down at the way your eyes swallow him up. “If I’m fucking someone, only I’m fucking her.”

“Lucky her, bet you go for the pretty ones too.” 

“You misunderstand me,” he chuckles softly, his cock twitching at the way your energy changed once you got a good look at it. “If I fuck her, she’s only fucking me.” 

You pause, noting another lack of similarity between Yoongi and your boyfriend. Namjoon fucks other women, sometimes in just a room over from you. Part of you wishes he was as possessive as the man before you on all fronts. Enough to kill a man for you like Yoongi did, enough to starve and suffer in a room for protecting you. 

“What happens when Namjoon gets his hands on me again, then?”

“He won’t be able to once I’m done with you.” 

You pause, unsure if that’s a threat on your life or a threat for a good time. The gamble is the same either way, so you offer him a sarcastic laugh. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask, leaning forward and tip toeing your fingers up his length. 

“You wouldn’t want him to fuck you.” He says snidely, shivering at your touch. “Let me show you what it’s like to actually get fucked.” 

You breathe in deeply, pupils blowing out at the sound of those words. It only takes a moment to stand up and place yourself back on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes. 

“Is that a promise?” You say, eyes burning in delight and ignoring the wince of pain that trembles through his body. “You think you can fuck me better?” 

He smirks and nods his head, pushing his cock forward as his legs start to go numb under your weight. He’s no longer uncomfortable, thinking with only one part of his body. 

“Let me,” He says, trying to show his dominance despite being restrained. “Sit on it and see, babe.”

You chuckle silently, lifting up on his lap and internally apologizing for the way your legs squeeze his thighs, he doesn’t react though. You snake your hands under your skirt to push your panties to the side and have no qualms with grabbing his cock and positioning it right where it needs to be. 

Yoongi shivers at the feeling of your hand grasping him, and the image of your eyes not leaving his when you do it. For once in his life, he is feeling so out of control, owing someone else, all while being pleasured? Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time in captivity. 

“Sit.” He says in a demanding way, feeling the way you hover over him and make attempts to tease the pleasure. 

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” You laugh, still somehow following his order and sliding down just an inch and releasing a breath. 

He hums at it, holding his own pleasure in and watching you attempt to control yourself just through the small amount of cock he’s got in you. 

“Untie me, I’ll take care of you.” He tries to reason with you again, bucking his hips up and plunging another few inches against your aching walls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder as you brace yourself against the chair behind him. Slowly sinking down and adjusting to a size that isn’t what you’re accustomed to. And when you finally sit flush against his thighs, you spread your legs to offer him some relief and clench your pussy around him. 

“Untie me,” he says again, thrusting his hips up beneath your weight and trying to force in more of him despite having no more to offer. “Fuck.” 

You ignore his words and his chasing hips as your pussy hugs his length. You feel so full, so satisfied by his size inside of you. When he tries to fuck up, he doesn’t go far but the tight fit burns in a way that feels more arousing than you could have ever expected.

“You must hate being tied up,” You chuckle, finally moving your hips just a bit to relieve yourself of a bit of his length. “How does it feel to be at a woman’s mercy?” 

Yoongi glares at you when you say those words, pressing up and struggling with his strength as he tries to force those few inches back into you. 

“How does it feel?” He repeats the question to you. “I could be fucking the light out of your eyes right now if you’d just let me.”

You almost consider it, wondering what his working hand would feel like pressing against your skin. The other, too swollen and likely too painful to touch you. You’d still play with those fingers though, because the only way you can get a decent moan out of him is if he’s hurting. 

“The light already left my eyes, Yoongi.” You say.

He doesn’t hear a word of it outside of you using his first name again. He rolls his eyes at you, dropping his head back in a frustrated groan at how he’s both getting what he wants, but also not.

“No, your eyes are still shining.” He says when he lifts his head back up to face you, and you pull back a bit, rolling your hips before finally lifting again to actually start riding him. 

“So are yours.” You say, looking straight into them and smiling.

He doesn’t believe you, but the sensation of how wet you seem to be definitely would have any man’s eyes shining. 

“How does it feel?” You comment, noticing the shiver that runs down his body and his heaving chest. 

“Fucking tight.” He grimaces, “I’d keep you all to myself. Namjoon is a stupid, stupid man for letting you come here.”

“He’s a specific type of man,” You correct him, hovering over his lips. “Doesn’t even eat my pussy.”

“Goddamn, untie me.” Yoongi very nearly pleads, feeling the intensity of how your walls cling to him. 

He’s aching so much. He’s so fucking angry, and yet, he really is about to beg for you to release him. Not to run, not to kill you, but to pleasure you.

You still ignore him, ghosting your lips over his and watching his eyes droop into a drowsy stare at you. You were right when you said his eyes were shining, even like this, they are. You could argue that he feels good, you could argue that if you untied him, maybe he really would fuck you better than Namjoon does. 

“I bet you’d kill to have your hands on me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi nods brokenly, still trying to buck his hips up to make good on his promise, and still being met with frustration bubbling inside of him. He’s too restrained for this, his heart has grown soft at this ego blow, and yet, his cock still yearns inside of you. 

“I would.” He admits, his voice so broken sounding that you almost feel as if you’ve pushed him to his limit. 

“You’d eat me out too, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck yeah I would.” He admits again, this time seeming more determined as he starts to move his hands again in an attempt to free himself. “Let me.” He seethes out through a clenched jaw. 

You ignore him.

“Let me.” He says again, this time in a half moan when you move your hips with more intent. 

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll let you.” You moan yourself, sliding back and forth against him, swirling your hips and feeling his weeping cock stretch you out even more. 

“You’re fucking insane.” Yoongi groans, tensing his muscles to offer more support for your languid grinding. “Fucking me so slow, making promises you know you can’t keep.”

“I’ll keep them,” You say, lowering your face to his neck and reaching your hands behind him, rubbing against his arms. “You’re giving me so much power right now, it’s hard not to savor it.”

He chuckles at your boldness, once again leaning his head back against the chair and allowing himself to relish in the feeling of the way you ride him. 

“If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him how wet and needy this pussy is for me.” 

“You’re so honest,” you laugh, picking up pace and fiddling with the binds on his hands. “That’s why I’m not going to untie you.”

“Faster,” he groans, imagining that he has healthy and free hands, guiding your hips on him. If he’s going to have to be like this though, the least he can do is try and guide you to the pace he should be fucking you at in this moment. “I want to hear how wet you are.”

You smirk, pulling your hands back and grabbing his face. His cheeks are fuller now compared to that night you came to bring him his life back, and they look plush when you squeeze them and force his eyes to stay on you. 

“Faster?” You ask, already pistoning your hips against him, the chair creaking and threatening to break under the weight the two of you offer. “Harder?” You ask, his eyes burning straight through you as if you’d be daring him to kill you if you don’t. 

He’s pleased by your pace, falling into a world of arousal in his head as you ride him exactly how he wants it. He can hear the wetness seeping out of you, and the best part is that it’s for him and not that pompous asshole who nearly killed him.

You bounce, fast and hard, drilling his cock so deeply into you that he finally releases a moan of pleasure right against your lips before rolling his eyes back and giving in. 

“Fuck, you do this for him, too?” He asks, eyes rolling back to look at you and the way the determination in your eyes only grows. 

“No,” You say out of breath, keeping that same pace and hiccupping with small moans each time. “He never lets me ride him” 

“Won’t eat you out, won’t let you ride him.” Yoongi mocks him, freely moaning now as you take him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much at this point. “I’d worship you.”

You pause your movements, out of breath as you look at him. You glance down to his smiling lips, and then back up at his eyes. 

“I’d let you.” You say shortly, kissing him once again and returning back to your slow movements, pumping his cock inside of you so tightly that he fears this will end too quickly. 

And it does, when you feel his tongue tense up in your mouth and he starts kissing you harder. His harsh voice releases whimpers and breaths into your throat. The sounds coming from him are unintentional and entirely too arousing to ignore.  You can feel his length twitching aggressively inside of you, and you feel more full than you ever thought you could. You ride it out for him, giving him quick jerks of your hips to drag that sensitivity on as he finishes what you started. 

And then it’s silent, but he’s still kissing you. 

“Then let me.” He says once you part your lips, still holding him inside of you, and not daring to move a muscle.

~

You stay with him for a long while, torturing him in a way he finds himself loving by the time the sun rises and he now only has one day on this earth to live. You had spread yourself out on him, gotten him off twice, and then promptly moved him from the chair to get him on his knees. 

It was the first time since you’d been with Namjoon that you felt a tongue against your clit, breaking your own promise of letting if happen if he gets out of this situation. Arguably, you felt like you fell into this hole with Yoongi far too deep to even consider crawling out of it. He ate you like he was still starving, smirking as you swirled your needy clit against his tongue. He was eager to take the parts of you that Namjoon never wanted, it seems. 

And when the daylight rose and you were still here, panic sat in. You were filled with a man’s cum that isn’t your boyfriend’s. Your legs were arguably as weak as Yoongi’s, and you knew for a fact that your family was already wondering where you were. One of the cars would be missing, you’d be missing. 

“What?” Yoongi asks, watching you in horror at the sudden shift of mood. Your face twisting in panic as you start to breathe heavily.

“I can’t.” You say shortly, scooting back further from him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Yoongi picks up quickly on what you’re referring to. He knew this night had to come to an end though, and he knows for a fact that at least you got to experience him for who he truly is, and not the rabid criminal Namjoon seems to believe he is. 

“Probably because you know Namjoon is going to mail your head to the police?” He laughs, sighing in defeat.

That is, until you stand up and walk behind him. 

Instantly he feels the tight bind against his wrists loosen and now, he can look at the damage. His broken fingers aren’t twisted, and his wrists actually hurt more than they do. He turns to look at you as you stand there, struggling not to cry. 

Honestly, he’s a bit frozen in place before he tries to stand. His legs buckle from the lack of use and from your weight on them, but he manages to balance himself and slowly take a step toward you with a look of appreciation.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, trying to balance himself but feeling his legs give in instantly. He crumbles to the ground with a pained groan. Embarrassed by his nudity and lack of strength.

You didn’t run, nor did you hide after you untied him. What you did do though, is set him free from this situation. He can leave now, and if he needs to, he can take you with him. 

“Are you stupid?” He asks through his pain, standing again and internally forcing himself to walk. “Go on, run back to him.” He raises his voice. 

You shake your head.

“I’m dead either way.” You say with a shaking voice, feeling a pit in your stomach still bubble with arousal but the reality hit you far too late. 

“You saved my life and you’ve now given me a chance to fucking run. You think I’m going to let you die?” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Technically, it should be normal for a person to react this way, but Yoongi is a killer too. It’s not like you expect anything more from him, nor from Namjoon at this point when he ultimately learns that you’re the one who did this.

“If you want me to kill you so bad, I’d be happy to do it so you don’t have to fucking suffer but–” Yoongi goes silent for a moment, contemplating the position that he’s about to put himself in. 

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, it couldn’t hurt much more than it already will. 

“You could come with me. My men will protect you for keeping me alive. You’d be untouchable.” 

You look at him, seemingly unsure at first. 

“He’s probably already out looking for me.” You say in a smaller voice than before. “He’d know it was you.” 

“No shit. Either you’re coming with me or not.” Yoongi deadpans, standing as still as he can so he doesn’t tumble over to the ground again. 

You shrug in defeat, nothing left to say. 

And then you’re getting into your car after the struggle and helping your enemy escape. He’s in the back seat, smiling up as he focuses his eyes outside. 

“If you drive me straight to him, you know he’d probably forgive you, right?”

You ignore him, finding more comfort in the fact that he’d kill you for this. 

“Just tell me where to go.”

~ 

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut

[zombyjuice]

YOU USED TO LIVE A BLONDED LIFE₊˚⊹ ᰔ(๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)>c[_]

in which it’s almost valentines and all wonbin can think about is the girl on his bus rides home.

wonbin x fem!reader

cussing, awkward, kinda bad ngl, reader is poc ermmm enjoy :3

“I’m lonely, I need a man before Valentine or I’ll go fucking insane” you speak coming up behind your friend Luna who practically jumped out of her seat phone flying in the air “Goodness! Someone needs to go put a bell on you” you look down at her with a menacing stare getting out of your 🕴️pose and going to the other side to grab your chair, stepping over her phone.

“I feel like you’ve already gone insane,” she picks up her phone thanking God it’s not broken “Cute hair by the way” she points out your now dark brown hair up put in a ponytail and a white headband with a fluffy blue star clip attached to it, you smile softly touching your hair “hopefully that cute boy on the bus thinks the same, he’s always staring at me I think he wants at me” you let out a giggle and jump up and down on your chair “oh my GOSH he’s so fine how~”

“shut up I’m sure he’s going to like it your pretty and look straight out of one of those old quirky Japanese fashion magazines, also you don’t have the worst personality” she states finishing her coffee “Oh? whatever fuck you let’s go” you kick her under the table and watch her face curl up in pain laughing out loud.

You guys shuffle out of the cafe with grumpy faces seeing all Valentine’s decorations and giddy men and women with gifts for the significant others, “disgusting” you sneer “Be happy” you glare at her “Shut the fuck up and be mad with me fuck valentines!” you slightly shout her eyes darting around not understanding how you have no shame(in Korea), you were a strange complex person but she loved you for it, deciding to ignore the glares.

Not even on the bus yet eyes immediately start darting trying to find the boy excited dressed just for him even though in the back of your mind you knew you were never going to go up to him ever, especially remembering your first interaction.

To make a long story short he was at the bus station at 1 am doing God knows what (waiting for the bus) and since there was barely anyone there you and Luna thought it was the best time to do a silly little TikTok you sprouting with energy cause Luna just gave you tons of it.

The song was slowed down so there you were dancing your heart out (slowly) to Ma Boy by sistar19 to get the perfect video and everything would’ve been fine if you didn’t heard the stifled laugh that the boy was holding.

Your face contoured with fear and Luna's deadpan while tapping your shoulder to run. And ever since then you’d see the boy every day, which would be concerning any other man but this was a breathtaking man who looked at you like he wanted to go down on you any moment.

Luna says it’s not that bad because the video ended up being great the sped up video making people laugh and you guys got viral the next day but you think that was hands down the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“I think you guys would look good together” your friend states while you guys eagerly waiting for the bus “What do you mean? How?!” you get giddy slapping her arm “idk it give cute black cat bf and weird orange cat gf” “okay can you hop off always trying to insult me” “that’s what I do best” “oh you're a fucker” “ow! Stop pinching me gay fuck” “You’re g-”

“the doors open” a quiet voice that belonged to no other than your future(not really) pretty black cat boyfriend >:3

you both barely look back and beeline into the bus.

“haha,” you awkwardly laugh a little too late at the boy who looked at you a little silly, both of your eyebrows raised strangely at each other “Oh my gosh” Luna muttered.

You turned around all of a sudden you would like to leave right about now.

The bus ride was quite awkward you and your friend standing and chatting sometimes losing yourselves in the convos and laughing a bit too loud immediately going to check if he looked at you a certain way.

You guys shared cute glances here and there you could feel the way he looked at your outfit or the way he scanned your side profile also not failing to catch the soft grin plastered on his face.

When the time came around for you to get off your bus stop you frowned, yeah you guys never talked before and you weren’t planning on it, but his presence was enough you could gladly sit awkwardly next to him as he looked at you with those cute boba eyes, gladly giving him the same look back.

You gave him one last look and a soft tight lip smile before walking away with your friend off the bus, but what you didn’t catch was that he followed you guys off.

“excuse me- excuse me”

You guys turn stiff and you snap back to see him slightly smile and wave “Can I um speak to you, please, not to be weird or anything”

You look at Luna with a smile a little too bright and she nods smiling back and glaring at Wonbin before walking off.

you look back at the boy's direction and you walk up to meet each other properly…

“You changed your hair,” he states blankly your eyes go a bit wide, and chuckle a bit “Yeah I was tired of the blonde, but I’m nervous this might be too plain though it does look a lot better I might add some color or maybe like a couple of blo- sorry I blabbering” he giggles a little too hard eyes turning into crescents and cheeks burning red “sorry that was a weird statement, not your fault, haha but um I’m Wonbin…” he scammed your features and your reactions finding them all so cute how expressive and real you are it’s like he could see you take note of his name in your head.

“Wonbin.. pretty I like it! I’m y/n” his face burned more and he couldn’t help but let out a nervously high giggle “Also pretty I think you're pretty too and I wanted to introduce myself properly and take you on a date or two before you know, Valentine's” gulp.

#choqolei ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა #choqolei (⁎˃ᆺ˂) #wonbin riize #riize wonbin #wonbin x reader #wonbin x you #wonbin fanfic #wonbin imagine #wonbin imagines #park wonbin #Wonbin #riize x you #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize #riize fluff #riize scenarios #wonbin fluff #riize imangines #riize is 7

[honeyedmiller]

Mystery | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, teasing, sensual dancing, no outbreak, no use of y/n. 18+, minors do not interact.

word count: 1k+

synopsis: Tommy drags Joel to a club which he detests to, until he sets his sights on you.

if you really wanna catch the vibes for this one shot i highly suggest listening to Black Magic Woman by Santana as this is literally based off of this song

-

“Still don’t understand why the hell you’re draggin’ me to this damn club. ‘M too old to be clubbin’, Tommy.” Joel shakes his head as he rests it against the headrest of the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck.

“It’s for your own good, big brother. Work’s been stressin’ you lots. Y’need to relax.” Tommy lightly chastised his older brother with a small curl of a smile on his lips.

“What I need is an ice cold beer while I’m watchin’ the Cowboys playin’… at home.” Joel grunts, looking out of the passenger window.

Austin’s nightlife was crawling with young men and women down the streets where they could all bar hop, go clubbing, or grab a bite to eat. Everyone looked to be around Tommy’s age, meanwhile, Joel felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.

He wasn’t even old, albeit he sure as hell felt like it. Probably looked like it too, to all these youngins in their mid-twenties.

Nerves and anxiety twisted in Joel’s gut. It’d been ages since he’d been out, especially to a club. He truly had no idea what the hell Tommy was thinking bringing him along, but he went just so Tommy would stop nagging him.

Brothers.

Younger ones, to be exact.

Tommy lucked out with a parking spot near the club’s entrance. The two brothers got out of the car, Joel immediately noticing people—women—were looking Tommy’s way. Hell, even men too.

Tommy walked very confidently. He was suave, collected, and knew exactly how to get what he wanted when he had his eyes zeroed in on the lady he wanted to talk to for the night.

On the other hand, Joel was a hell of a lot more reserved. Quiet, kept his hands tucked into his jean pockets, and was truly oblivious to every person who looked his way.

The bouncer knew Tommy well enough apparently, because he let him and Joel right into the club.

To Joel’s surprise, the club was actually playing decent music. There were plenty of people on the dance floor having a good time, and the smoke-ridden atmosphere was rather calm despite it being so packed.

“C’mon, let’s get a drink.” Tommy jerked his head toward the bar, and Joel followed suit.

“Tommy man, how the hell are ya?” The bartender shouts, bringing Tommy in for a quick hug.

“I’m good, Sam. Brought my brother Joel with me this time.” Tommy nods toward Joel, and Sam’s eyes shift to Joel. He stuck out his hand, which Joel shook.

“Nice to meet you, Joel.”

“Likewise.”

“What can I get for you fellas?” Sam asks, wiping his hands on the white rag slung over his shoulder.

“I’ll take a Modelo.” Tommy says.

“I’ll take whatever whiskey you got. Neat.”

Sam nods and pours up both of their drinks, setting them on the counter. Tommy hands over his card to Sam and tells him to keep a tab open.

“So what exactly do you plan on me doin’ here, Tommy?” Joel looks at his brother, taking a sip of his whiskey. It burned so good, making him grimace a bit.

“I already said it, big brother. Just relax. Dance. Have fun. Don’t fuckin’ think about shit for one night, yeah?” Tommy grabs Joel’s shoulder and squeezes it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna head on out to the dance floor to find myself a nice lady to dance with.”

And just like that, Joel is left at the bar all alone. He doesn’t mind it too much. It gives him the opportunity to scope out the place and see what all the patrons are up to. He keeps sipping his whiskey slowly, eyes scanning the dance floor when he immediately stops.

He spots who’s got to be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life, dancing the night away with her girlfriends.

Something about the way she moved was so enthralling, so captivating.

That woman happened to be you.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Just like him, you tagged along with your group of friends to de-stress from the hell of a week you’ve had. Clubbing was your friends’ solution to relaxing. It took you a bit of coaxing, but now that you’re out and dancing, you’re glad you came with them.

“I’m gonna go get a drink.” You wrapped your hands around one of your friend’s arms, notifying them. They nod at you and ask if you want them to come with, to which you declined.

As you made your way across the dance floor, you spotted a man sitting at the bar that was already just blatantly staring at you. You found it a bit odd, but you had to admit, he was extremely handsome.

Rugged features and soft, dark brown eyes. What a mix.

You made it up to the bar and knocked on it twice, as if Sam could easily hear it. Sam saw you anyway and gave you a big smile.

“What’ll it be, sweets?” Sam asked.

You leaned over the bar right next to Joel, wearing a strapless corset top, skinny jeans that showed off your curves in every single right place, and some strap black heels that made your legs look like they went on for miles.

“Whiskey, neat please.” Your voice was sweet, Joel thought. Buttery. Thick and nearly addicting, and you’d only said three goddamn words.

Sam handed you your drink, and you grinned at him. “Thanks Sam!” You took your drink and sat down two barstools away from Joel.

Joel wanted to look at you some more, but he knew he’d be clocked as a total creep if he did that. He just wanted to admire you. Admire your features, the way your hands curled around the glass as you brought the glass up to your mouth, the way your red lipstick painted said glass once you took a sip.

You were a sight to behold, and Joel was fucking bewitched.

The man didn’t believe in love at first sight, but god, he might just believe in it now.

You looked over at Joel who was trying hard not to look at you as he swirled what was left in his glass. He glanced up at you when he felt your stare on him. Your lips were adorned with a soft smile, and he easily returned one.

You slipped out of your seat and into the one next to Joel, crossing a leg over the other as you faced him.

“Noticed you were staring.” You chuckle, and petrification crosses his features. His neck and ears burn bright red, and he looked down at his glass once more.

“‘M sorry. Just couldn’t help it. You’re beautiful.” He said shyly, and he was kicking himself for being so timid.

He just quite literally hadn’t done this in so long. He forgot how to have a normal conversation with someone he found so attractive. How to flirt. How to do anything when it came to women.

It’s like his brain completely short circuited, but you found it charming in a way. At least he wasn’t some douchebag trying to hit on you just to get in your pants.

“It’s okay. Thank you,” You chuckle, putting a hand on his knee. He froze at your touch, feeling like his body was on fire. No one’s ever had this type of effect on him. “What’s your name?”

He clears his throat and reminds himself to stop acting like a total fucking weirdo. To breathe. A gorgeous woman was talking to him. He couldn’t blow it.

“Name’s Joel.” He raised his glass to you, and you grin. You clink your glass with his, shoot the rest of the whiskey down and hop off the barstool. Joel’s mood faltered for a second, thinking that you were leaving him at the bar.

“Nice to meet you, Joel. Come dance with me.” Your doe eyes and pretty pout of the lips was something Joel couldn’t deny, no matter how much he wasn’t a fan of dancing. He downed the rest of his whiskey as well, leaving the glass on the sticky maplewood bar top before taking your hand that you had held out to him.

You led him to the dance floor, facing him as the current song was ending, and Black Magic Woman by Santana started to play through the speakers.

“I love this song.” You say into Joel’s ear, and he grins and you and nods in agreement. His hands find home on your waist and yours on the back of his neck, and the both of you start to move.

You were impressed by how great of a lead Joel was. The man didn’t like dancing much, but he was a hell of a dancer.

You swayed your hips to the beat, Joel easily keeping up as his grip on your waist tightened in the slightest. You stared into his dark brown eyes, a feeling of neediness surging over the both of you.

All you saw was him in that very moment. You both moved fluidly across the dance floor, unaware of all of the wandering eyes coming to rest their gaze on you both.

Once the guitar riff started to play, Joel spun you around so your back was against his front.

Got a black magic woman,

Got a black magic woman,

I’ve got a black magic woman

Got me so blind I can’t see

That she’s a black magic woman

She’s tryin’ to make a devil out of me

You leaned your head back onto Joel’s shoulder and reached your arm up, grabbing the back of his neck as your other hand grabbed the other one of his that rested on your hip.

He was feeling on the bolder side, so he slotted his face into the crook of your neck, resting his lips on your warm flesh. He leaves a ghost of a kiss in one spot before moving his lips up to your ear.

“So fuckin’ beautiful.” Is all he says before you look up at him with a saccharine smile, spinning out from him.

Don’t turn your back on me baby,

Don’t turn your back on me baby,

Yes don’t turn your back on me, baby,

Stop messin’ ‘round with your tricks

Don’t turn your back on me, baby,

You just might pick up my magic sticks

Joel’s grip on your hands was solid as he spun you around twice, catching you by your hips to pull you flush against his body. At this point you two were grinding yourselves into each other while still managing to maneuver around the dance floor, footing in sync.

It began to feel extremely hot in the club as your body moved with his, aware of him and only him. His scent, his eyes on you, the way your body seemed to fit perfectly with his.

You’d only just met the man a mere ten minutes ago, and yet, you found yourself so drawn to him. So attracted to him. He seemed to feel the same, the way he was looking at you like you were the only other person in the room.

Got your spell on me baby,

You got your spell on me, baby,

Yes, you got your spell on me, baby,

Turning my heart into stone

I need you so bad magic woman

I can’t leave you alone

As the song came to an end, Joel spun you around twice more before dipping you down, clutching onto your body so tightly as reassurance to you that he’s got you.

His face was only a mere few inches away from yours. Both of you were entranced, staring into each other’s eyes as your ragged breaths were slowly becoming more normal.

Both of you came back to reality when you heard people cheering for the both of you, looking around at your surroundings to realize that there’s been a space in the dance floor people left just for the two of you.

Joel stood you upright, hands still not leaving your hips.

You smirked up at the man, leaning up to leave a kiss on his pulsating neck, which left a bright, puckered shape lipstick stain in its wake.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Joel.” Your hands pat his chest softly twice before going to walk away from him, but he abruptly stops you by gently tugging on your wrist.

“Wait, darlin’, what’s your name?” He asks, throat going dry as you give him a sultry stare.

Your red lips form into a smirk as you wink at him, turning to walk away into the once more crowded dance floor, leaving him in the middle of the sea of patrons.

He was too stunned to even follow after you. Too stunned to move, think, anything, until Tommy pulled him out of his trance when he gripped his brother’s shoulder.

“Who the hell was that?” Tommy asks, looking just as bewildered as Joel.

“I… have no idea.” He breathed, putting his hand over where you kissed him on the neck.

That night, at the club, after him and Tommy went home, and as he laid himself to sleep, he was praying to whatever god of fates was out there that he was able to find his mystery woman once more.

tags: @ilovepedro ; @party-hearses ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #no outbreak!joel miller #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #joel miller fanfiction

[ddollfface]

Hii~ it's me again.

You said The Athlete has siblings right? How is he with them? Or just generally with his family, as of current day?

Also, (with Childhood bestf Darling) what would he do if they had a crush? What if it was one of his other team members?

Nobody can convince me that the absolute black cat of a darling I have in mind would ever have a crush in a normal way.

At first, darling is crushing hard on someone, doesn't really realize it, but a certain other guy does. Then, when darling does realize, they do everything in their power to push that person away and I imagine he's right there, on calls with them late at night as they complain about their crush, because-

"he's horrible, right? And he doesn't even like me. Ugh. I hate him so much. He's cruel, and selfish, and arrogant, who'd like a guy like that?"

Insert our boy with the sweetest, "Of course, pumpkin. He's horrible, you know what he did last summer..." (Cue him telling darling about the most atrocious thing darling's crush ever did.)

- 💗 (Making an OC to ship with him is not a want, it is a need. Also, I absolutely love your writing style. The way you slip from third person writing to first person dialogue is really cool.)

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"When I looked into his eyes, I knew he was the one." Trigger Warnings; bad writing, spelling errors, vague baby trapping, reader can get pregnant, both yandere and reader have baby fever (self-insert lol), reader and yandere are 18+, descriptions of sex, sex is brought up, talking about yandere's bad childhood, yandere is a lovesick fool, 18+ If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I'm splitting this ask into two different things 'cause it's easier on my tiny brain (I also think they're two completely different asks, so yeah). Also, my writing style (where I slip into thrid person) is inspired by @depravitycentral's writing, their literally so good, please go read it:)))

Okay, okay, so let me tell you about LoveSick!Athlete and his childhood, more so his siblings. LoveSick!Athlete is the oldest, though he does have an older half-brother. He's not too close to him, and he was never around. This means, that in the family dynamic, LoveSick!Athlete was the oldest.

Now, after him, he has a little sister, who he is very, very, very close to. Her name is Nayda and she's only a year or two younger than him, they have the same dad, who is a complete scumbag btw.

After Nayda and LoveSick!Athlete there's the twins, who are only two years old. They have a different dad from Nayda and LoveSick!Athlete. They're interracial babies (meaning they're a mix of black and white, in this situation), and this has caused a whole bunch of issues for LoveSick!Athlete and his mama. Especially since where he's from, people aren't the most accepting of interracial couples. There have been far too many times when these old ladies will make too many assumptions with their grabby-ass hands, leading to a whole assortment of problems.

LoveSick!Athlete is close with his family and he feels very protective over them, particularly toward his mama and sister. This is partially because they're women and he has a, slightly, closeminded view of women. He sees them as something he needs to protect. He was raised to never, ever hit a girl, ever. That was seen as unacceptable and it was something his mama would be pissed over.

However, this doesn't mean that he thinks women shouldn't work or anything, it's just that he feels an instinctual need to protect women, even if they can handle themselves. This stems from his unstable childhood; how he would see his mama struggle, both financially and romantically. Because she was the only woman he ever really interacted with, rather than his sister, he grew this instinctual, primal even, need to protect women based on his experiences of watching his mama.

Then there's the twins, Bijan and Abbas, who LoveSick!Athlete isn't too close with. Of course, when he's home for holidays, he always, always helps his mama and stepdad with taking care of the unruly toddlers. He enjoys taking care of them, but he doesn't really see them as his siblings, seeing as he was already out of the house by the time they were born.

Though, LoveSick!Athlete does have a good relationship with his stepdad, seeing as his stepdad is a far better man than his pa ever was. His stepdad was his mama's therapist (ooo interesting dynamic), and he really helped his mama through the filling of a restraining order process (it was against his pa). He even calls him dad, something he never did with his pa. LoveSick!Athlete's mama always makes them have "bro-time", as she calls it. She wants her two favorite boys to get along, and it warms her heart every time she sees them sharing a moment, usually, it's a conversation relating to her.

LoveSick!Athlete respects his stepdad as both a man and a person; he believes that he'll take good care of his mama when he isn't there, which is his top priority. He wants his mama to have a stable life, for her to get out of the projects, and have a nice home. LoveSick!Athlete, no doubt, is a mama's boy and always has been. He loves his mama to death and would love for you to meet her. He thinks she'd absolutely adore you, and she does (from what she's heard about you).

Due to how many siblings, and cousins, this man has, he's very, very, very good with children. Out of all of his cousins, he's the third oldest, meaning that he had to take care of all the younger kids. He was always left giving the baby the bottle or picking the twins up from school.

It wasn't his favorite thing in the world, being a babysitter, but it never bothered him too much as he's very good with kids. Babies seem to just relax around him, giving his mama much relief. He just has this atmosphere around him that kids just seem to love.

LoveSick!Athlete likes how energetic kids can be and how they seem to have a rose-colored view of the world. Their overall optimism really brightens his day and he can't help but let his mind wander, thinking of what your children would look like. Would they have your eyes? He hopes so; he really thinks your eyes are beautiful. The way your iris shimmers under light; how he can see his reflection in your eyes. It's like he can see right through you; your every emotion is reflected in your colorful eyes. Whatever you're hiding or refusing to tell him, he can see in them.

Sometimes, LoveSick!Athlete will just sit there and stare at you, without your knowledge, of course. While you two are on a date, he'll just watch you stuff your mouth, unaware of his peering gaze. He just can't rip his eyes away from yours; he sees his future in them, your future together. You'll catch him, eventually, staring at you like a lovesick idiot. And he'll just shrug, after all, he can't deny my feelings, sweetcheeks. You're far too easy on the eyes to not stare at! Don't derive a man from a good view, yeah?

He'll smirk, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand, and smile slyly.

He's very subtle with his little baby fever spurts. He'll periodically have moments where he'll feel this overwhelming need to breed you, to make your tummy swell with his children. He wants to make you the mother of his kids, to make you a sweet, little mama. He knows you'd be great; you'd be such a good mother, he thinks.

When the two of you are cuddling, he'll absentmindedly rub his hand up and down your midriff, letting his calloused hand trail down to right above your center. LoveSick!Athlete would hold your waist a little tighter, the thought of you all stuff with him, him, him makes him go insane.

He'll hint it to you when the two of you are going at it; your legs hiked up on his shoulders; he's plowing through you. He's never quiet when making love, as he calls it, but when the baby fever is hitting hard, he's never closing his mouth. Little gasps and pants leave his mouth, going on and on about how you're the one for him, baby. God, you'd be such a pretty mommy. Mhm- let me make you a mama, c'mon, angel, I know we're young, b-but I'll make, make it happen. Umgh- for you.

And he'll pout and whine when you refuse to let him go raw, forcing him into a condom. He'll put every excuse in the book. It's too small, 'm too gifted for this tiny rubber, babes. Just lemme go in there, I swear I'll put out(((

He won't, that was a lie, but once you get to that point, where you're all sweaty, sex is heavy in the air, and your mind is all fuzzy, you won't care. You'll forget all about that stupid condom you were so adamant about a few minutes ago. And he's so, so, so glad you did, 'cause now he can let you have all of him, and I mean all of him. The thought of you all stuffed with his cum spurs him on, causing him to tighten his hold around your, already bruised thighs, and kiss up and down your belly, his muscular form hunched over your sweaty one.

LoveSick!Athlete just wants to be a daddy :( And you won't lie, the way he dots on his younger siblings causes your heart to clench; the idea of having a family, though you're both so young, becomes more and more appealing as the days pass by. You just know he would be a good father, you can tell by how his gaze softens with he sees a woman pushing a stroller or a toddler babbling on and on about some random bird they saw.

And he knows the same thoughts are flooding your mind, and he begs you to give in to them, but you always deny it, pushing his face away from yours. You are in college, trying to pursue a career, that you haven't even started, you don't have time for a family yet, you tell him, but all he hears is that you want to have a family with him, at some point. LoveSick!Athlete just has selective hearing, I suppose, as he just grabs your shoulders and gives you an excited smile. He leans close, whispering in your ear, so you do want to have kids? Yeah? I can make it happen; I can take care of you, just wait. I can wait, just for you. We'd be such good parents, babe.

Just wait, he'll convince you, eventually. He's very persuasive, me thinks ;)

#bad writing #lovesick #obsessive love #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere x you #x reader #yandere male #baby fever is hitting hard #💗!𝙉𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙮 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #anon <3 #anon request #requests are open #send requests #yandere headcanons #tw; toxic love

[mhsdatgo]

Since GOT they’ve been using rape and abuse to humble or break a woman/Girl because they aren’t the “right” kind of woman. They don’t ride a dragon or yield a sword. They don’t fight against their period typical role in life that they were born and raised in. They’re not “A guys girl” or the “I don’t have any girl friends, they’re too much drama” types who prefer the company of men to women, who would rather train with a sword and not learn embroidery. They don’t have dialogue that vaguely sounds more 21st century than Middle Ages.

These women are seen as of less value than our little dragon riding, sword and fist fighting tomboys. So they need to be taught that if you had just been more like this or more like that you wouldn’t have been brutalized and abused. The things that were done to you by other people is all your fault and you deserved it.

This show/franchise is not even in the same room as feminism.

👏👏👏 Nothing more to add anon. No lie was told.

The sad thing is, this is not what I got from the books of asoiaf at all. Women's experience was never told in juxtaposition to others. There is no humbling or brutalizing other women as a "punishment" for not being better, more rebellious, or bolder than others. The books tell stories of suffering and that's it. The way shows and fandoms decide to try and force other characters into another one's story for the sole purpose of comparing them so they prove that stanning one means having a moral high ground over another character's stans is the most idiotic thing to ever have happened among fandoms, to say the least. Especially when the two characters in question don't even know each other.

Just look at the way Sansa and Dany are treated in the fandom. Have a shot for every time Sansa in King's Landing is called a tradwife as if this wasn't a girl in middle school trying to survive they're talking about, or for every time she's called jealous of Dany. Imagine if a stranger girl with three dragons cames knocking on your door demanding that you and all of your people and their mama bend the knee to her and you are the jealous one and the villain because you just... Don't? Also, you deserve to be threatened with death when you pose a reasonable question, and you need to take it and be better and shut up. Then you're a "girls' girl" deserving of respect, etc.

We want strong female characters to think for themselves, except when that "thinking for oneself" isn't the same thing as kissing the ground the fan favourite girl walks on.

If only fandoms paid more mind to what makes a character likeable or unlikeable in their eyes BASED ON THE CHARACTER ITSELF, and not on their perspective on their faves, interacting with them would be way more fun. Books/shows like asoiaf/GOT or F&B/HotD aren't places where you just choose a character you like and that's it, she's an icon she's a legend and she is the moment. If it was, it would either be a story for kids or a hell for Mare Sues' fans. As long as you treat asoiaf characters like deities that can do no wrong and everyone else as villains in need of redemption, you should step back and read something else.

This is something that needs to be accepted even between writers and directors, btw. Just look at what F&B was turned into. Girlboss vs Girlfail. Blacks got the Girlboss, the virtuous rightful heir, good mother fine ruler, Greens' got the Girlfail, the rape enabler, the boy mom, the tradwife, you name it.

No, it doesn't matter that the latter is doing everything she can possibly do. She was a piece of shit the moment she stopped toiling behind the former because everyone is meant to be like or kneel before girlboss with dragon. Only then are your ambitions respectable. If not, fuck you, you're nothing. Everything that happens to you is your fault. I'll be in the front seats cheering for when everything you love is ripped brutally from you.

Even when your grown-up son rapes a maid. Even when girlboss with dragon threatens to put your people to the torch because you won't bend the knee.

TL;DR: There's no need to compare/stone certain female characters for being what they are instead of a completely different type. If all of them were tomboyish with swords or feminine with embroidery, it would be boring. You aren't better than anyone for having preferences. Also, learn how to blame men when they fuck up. It's great for the bowel.

#hotd #got #asoiaf #fire and blood #daenerys targaryen #sansa stark #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen

[olderthannetfic]

You know what obnoxious thing I keep seeing in fandom I wish would stop? This absolute need some people seem to have for their ship to be Representation in some way. Shipping is just imagining scenarios between two characters! You don’t need it to be a Special reason or whatever? I have a ship that is popular and people make weird vague comments about how the fandom is racist because both of them are white and there are other ship options that have poc so the white ship being big is a reflection on how racist the fandom is but the thing is…

Look I’m going to be real with y’all the fandom is for the game Detroit: Become Human and let’s just say the two major black characters are basically stereotypes written by a neocon lib boomer in a story that itself is imho…let’s call it tone deaf and corny af rather than overtly racist but yeah. Black folks on twitter regularly mock this game for good reason. It is very much a boomer white man’s idea of the civil rights movement but with robots. The robots sing actual slave hymns. The main character is essentially a light-skinned Martin Luther King Jr (dubbed Markus Luthur King by blktwt lol) and the religious allegories of him as a savior figure are very on the nose. It is bad lol. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to explore the black characters but the fandom is full of young white people singing the praises of this writing while patting themselves on the back about it which is genuinely uncomfortable to be around. Just my 2 cents but the virtue signaling and insane policing around those two characters makes it unbearable to interact with their content it is deeply sanitized and you WILL get death threats if you attempt any nuance or are critical of the (kinda racist imo) way they were written in canon.

The worst part of this is that Markus has a popular ship with a character a lot of people read or interpret as a more soft or femme gay man and you know what zoomers hate? Femme gay men. So obviously this is made to be ‘problematic’ in some way because these people can’t just admit to being femmphobic/homophobic themselves.

Sometimes it’s easier to stick with the boring white characters in the background because they aren’t being closely guarded by stupid reactionary people who are used to flashing their favorite fictional poc characters as tokens of their own goodness and virtue.

--

The pinnacle of this game is that moment when the black lady lectures her son about why they need to run the robot underground railroad to Canada.

I watched some playthroughs. Unsurprisingly, I liked the buddy cops with the good development, not the cringey activism plot with too many foils and not enough development of any single relationship and not the the Women Care About Babies plot.

But if I were going to do something fannish with Markus, I'd write him having a fucked up relationship with his mentor's son post game—the surrogate son who thought the guy was great and the estranged son who knew he wasn't but who has also done a bunch of shitty stuff himself.

It's especially hilarious when tryhards think the problem is not enough people shipping Markus with North as if the slashers are going to be into 1. het and 2. yet another unnecessary traumatic sex stuff backstory for a lady.

Even worse, half the whining isn't even about that Nines fanon nonsense being more popular than Markus: it's about how Markus/Connor would be better than Hank/Connor because old people are ew.

Sorry, children, a lot of people are here to thirst for Clancy Brown and because they'll turn up for any Caves of Steel ripoff. Other Connor ships were never in the running.

[moodywyrm]

i think a lot about being the first to please abby. like we start dating but decide to not have sex for a little bit, bc we both really like each other and i’ve heard it’s good to let the relationship settle a bit before sex so it doesn’t blind you. maybe a month or two in (god idk if i could wait that long), we finally get busy in bed.

abby being the top she is (i think she’s a switch fr but i know that woman just lovesssss to please), insists on making me finish first with her fingers alternating between massaging my clit and pumping in and out of me. after i finish, we’re making out and i trail my hands down to her pussy and ask if i can touch her. she kinda smiles.

“you don’t have to touch me, baby, don’t worry about me. i’m used to just taking care of people.” i would fr just furrow my brow and slide my hand across her hip.

“i really wanna make you feel good, abs. y’so pretty.”

and so she nods. after plenty of touching and teasing and pulling whines out of her, i’d end up suckling at her clit, two fingers massaging her g-spot, making her cum all over my face (i hc abby as an occasional squirter, and she would in this moment). she’d drag me up to her face and kiss me, hard. hands grabbing, tongue laving. and then she’d start to cry. big, heaving sobs.

“abby, honey? what’s wrong, angel?”

she’d bury her face in my neck and cry while i stroked her hair and naked back, nails scratching gently to soothe her. a few minutes would pass, i’d just hold her in my arms and press kisses to her hairline, waiting until she was ready to talk to me.

her pretty blue eyes would meet mine. “i…i’ve been with a man and plenty of women before…”

i’d nod, stroking the tears from her cheeks.

“not one single person has ever gone down on me. no one has ever even tried to make me feel good. all the women, especially, just wanted me to top them. which i don’t mind, i usually prefer it, but…they just wanted to use me.”

i’d bump her nose with mine and kiss her forehead.

“but you…it’s different with you. i feel so fucking safe with you. i don’t want to scare you by saying the L word too soon, but…”

“i love you.” i would immediately say to her.

tears would prick at her eyes again, her grip around my waist tightening.

“fuck, i love you so much.”

tldr: abby anderson deserves her pussy pleased and her body kissed and her titties sucked and i am the mf one

baby I love you so much oh my GOD. I am also the mf one. two mouths two titties. we can share.

I have so many thoughts about this. because we all watched the boat scene. some of us more than once (me, sorry, her titties look so good and suckable). Owen didn't even fucking try to please her. So I'm gonna extrapolate because I Don't Like Him. He never really focused on pleasing her when they were together. Got himself off and that was it. So Abby, already, was under the assumption that her pleasure was never gonna be the focal point of any sexual interaction. And when she starts having sex with women, it doesn't get much better. All the girls she hooks up with are bottoms who want to be taken care of, which like, no shame! But she kind of got pushed into the position of a stone top, which, again fair to anyone who wants to be stone top but she didn't really want to. So by the time she gets with you, she's kind of scared that it will be the same but she also loves you so fucking much, she wants to please you.

So the night you two sleep together for the first time, two months in, she's ready and eager to please. Fingers you open, eats you out so fucking good it makes you black out for second, and she sees how tired you are so she assumes it's over. And a part of her is a little bit heartbroken because she hoped it would be different. She's about to pull away to deliver aftercare when you grab her hands and pull her back to you, flipping positions so she's laying back on the bed.

She's laughing like "What? What's up baby?" and you're like??? what??? your turn baby??? and she just Pauses.

Sits you both up, looks you in the eyes and she looks so sincere when she speaks. "Baby, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, I'm okay just pleasing you" and you're like :(

"Abigail, I want to please you. If you let me, of course, but just know I really want to. God, I really fucking want to." And you're pressing a kiss to her lips, looking for her approval. When she nods, you're fucking ecstatic, easing her back onto the bed and kissing down her body, stripping her sports bra off and sucking at her nipples, humming at the soft moans she's letting out. You're trailing lower and lower, kissing down her tummy and her happy trail, until your face is level with her covered pussy.

"Can I take these off?" You ask, leaving soft kisses on her soft inner thighs, fingers thumbing at the band of her boxers. She nods, giving you a lil "mhm", her breath hitching when you pull them down, exposing her pretty cunt to the room.

And she's fucking gorgeous. Glistening in the low light, coated in slick and so needy, her swollen, blushing clit peaking out from her folds when you spread her open with your thumbs, her hole clenching and gushing out more wet. Abby's face is flushed red, not used to having someone down there. The feeling of your hands on her is so different from her own touch, but so good. You can see her twitching, throbbing and clenching without having been touched yet, and you can't believe she thought you would just leave her like this.

You lean in, licking from her achey hole to her clit, sucking it into your mouth and practically making out with her cunt. You're moaning into her, because god she tastes so fucking good, you don't think you'll ever get enough. And the sounds she's making? Heavenly. She's whimpering, panting and whining out your name, hands clawing at the sheets beneath her.

"F-fuck baby, thank you, mmm so fucking good baby" And she's whining, writhing under you, hands clawing at the sheets beneath her. What she doesn't know is it gets so much better. Because yeah, she's experimented with fingering herself before, but she could never get it quite right. She never really knew if she'd like it, until you push two fingers into her, slow and steady, curling and readjusting until you hear Abby yelp, her hips bucking into you. You rub against that gushy, sensitive patch inside of her, smiling against her clit when she starts whining so much more, her voice breathy and needy and so fucking pretty.

"Shit, shit, baby, sweetheart, so fucking good, please, please, 'm gonna cum, fuck" And you go even harder, sloppily making out with her clit, the noises from between her legs making her so warm and red and lightheaded, the pressure building and building until she snaps. She yells, thighs twitching and clenching against your head, squirting against you. Her pussy throbs and leaks around your fingers, your tongue lapping up every drop you can get.

You ease her down from her orgasm, leaving one final, sweet kiss on her clit before moving back up to her and kissing her bottom lip, yelping when her hands pull you into her. She sits you both up, kissing you hard, and you get so caught up in the kiss that it takes a second to register that there are tears on her face.

"Shit, Abigail, baby, what's wrong?" You pull away, cupping her face in your hands and wiping away the tears as they come. She's sniffling, giving you a sad little smile and kissing the heel of your hand.

She grabs one of your hands, kissing the knuckles and holding it in both of hers, "It's just... you're the first person who's ever, I don't know, cared? About my pleasure, I mean. Everyone else just kinda got off and then left. You took care of me"

You frown, kissing the hands wrapped around yours and then pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. "I'm so sorry baby, that's not fair to you, not if that wasn't the agreement. I want to make you feel good, for as long as you let me. I will always, always, want to take care of you."

"Thank you baby, I just... you make me feel so safe. And happy. And I don't know if it's too soon to say it because I don't want to scare you away, but ..."

"Abigail, I love you." And you pull her back into you, kissing her so gently that the tears start again. You trail your hands up her back, toying with the hair at the base of her neck, making her shiver at the sweetness of your touch. Her own hands are on your back, massaging your hips, trailing all over your body.

"I" smooch "love" sniffle "you" smooch "sweetheart," and she's planting little kisses all over your face, making you giggle as you say it back, the two of you going back and forth with little "I love you"s, feeling so warm and fuzzy and content and loved.

I need her so bad you don't understand she is my wife my baby my shnookiepoo

#apocalypticbadass #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader smut

[urfavnegronerd]

a little rant while im on break at my job

okay i know we're supposed to like ghostflower ships but i... i have some thoughts.

i see the love and lust between those two in into the spiderverse, miles is so giggly around gwen and gwen is slightly less unhinged (you ALL know what im getting at, love her but our good sis gwen is.... *hand motion*) etc. allat good stuff.

but i can't see that happening especially w the events of atsv, like there's definitely room for patching up the relationship but anything romantic between the two would feel forced as fuck i feel like. and maybe that's just me being an intensely passionate empath who likes to act like a nonchalant lil asshole, but still. i LOVE gwen, sony set her up beautifully for an amazing character arc that i'm so excited to see in the next one. HOWEVER, also this could just be me being an annoying little afro latina shit, she's not coming back from opening the collectible, going through miles' sketchbook w/o permission, and the shoes on the bed. that doesn't mean i HATE her i just can't look at her the same.

now a bitch is biased because black love is forever 🔛🔝, but also in the comics and video game miles has a black love interest. there was definitely also THE connection w/ miles and margo (however i'm also kinda in favor of prowlerbyte anyway--), and lil old me in the theatre was loosing it. i think that staying true to the aspect of black love interests is also going to be so important for the community, both comic/video game fans and black fans alike, mainly because of how black men interact with black women. speaking from experience i can't even count how many times i wanted to be the short lil white girl with blue eyes and blonde hair instead of the tall and awkward black girl with the wide nose and corkscrew curls. now here's where i think my personal bias kind of skews my opinion on this, but this franchise has been so important to SO many people. again speaking from experience, when i saw miles in atsv with the EXACT same hair texture as me i almost cried because no one in the history of ever has animated my kind of hair right and miles' hair was right. on top of this i saw so many little black boys practically tripping and falling in anticipation to see this movie in theatres. so i think i favor miles having a relationship with a black girl because this will reach such a new audience and possibly open doors for black men and boys to start treating black somebody and girls with respect. because if these little boys in the theatre see their like, idol for lack of a better word, treating black women and girls with respect i think then there's gonna be an aspect of healing within that.

i'm not really sure how well i'm communicating this, but i don't really think i can fully get behind the ghostflower ship. to me it feels really fucking forced in a way that kinda icks me out, however this is not to say i won't absolutely love the shit out of these two if it happens. in a way, this franchise feels like something the black community needs in several ways. like yeah this shit is pro black but FULLY pro black, not pro-black but anti gay, trans, or whatever the fuck. it shows blackness in a new way, artsy and nerdy but also really fucking cool at the same time and i never fucking got that as a little kid. like i kid you not the other black kids in school would call me a wanna be white girl. and to see someone with similar interests as me just sort of opens the world up??? like i visited my older sister at school in the dmv while wearing a spiderverse hoodie, and people actually wanted to talk to me about it!!! like not ina "oh i like ur sweatshirt ma" type thing like a "omg you like this movie too??" type thing and i just--

yeah i def strayed from the topic, but i hope our baby does get his lil black girl (or his lil gwen, from a big sisters perspective i don't hate her as a prospective partner i just think that there would need to be a clear breakdown in the difference of cultures. for example i was taught that anytime you meet anyone formally (like a parent or something) you shake their hand and or go in for a hug and kiss BOTH cheeks and talk about their home their clothes or whatever) but for like the sake of authenticity (sorry to be that asshole but come ON) but like.... flowerbyte 🥰🥰

did this make sense i feel like i word vomited like a bitch, idk maybe i'm projecting my personal shit into a franchise i really like

#across the spiderverse #black people #tag #drawing #graffiti #into the spiderverse #beauty #fanfiction #celebrities #college #e42 miles x reader #miles g morales #e42 miles #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles #miles morales #prowlerbyte #spiderman #into the spider verse #peter parker #mj #opinion #brain #word vomit #ramble #babble #rambling #break #work

[sleepynegress]

On Challengers...

Okay.

So, here's the thing. It's decent.

It's sassy, catfighty, but with dudes using rackets and tongue-wrestling, and the tennis scenes are tense, but... it wasn't at all confidently scandalous like I would've expected.

....Like I feel like they didn't push it far enough, somehow? And not even in the way you might think, with dicks a-swingin and thrusts abundant. Remember, the movie Closer? -I think that came out in 2007ish and was rated PG-13??? Or could have been if not for the language.

Natalie Portman has a similar nudity clause to her contract and *STILL* had the absolute sexiest scene with Clive Owen.... .....Which I'll put in this post to demonstrate what I mean. This felt like it held back at moments... When it came to pushing desire, between the men and/or with Zendaya, with one or the other. It just felt so tame to me given the hype. I was hoping for a return to artistic sensuality in film again, instead of this weird sort of by-rote-feeling purity culture we're having rn. (I'm watching Love Lies Bleeding tonight and I BET that delivers. Lesbians, salude!) I was hoping for Cruel Intentions' lush cut with The Dreamers' sensuality..if that makes sense?? AND some good-good tennis. THAT did deliver. WOW, some of the shots for that were eye-popping. A critic I follow noted that her issue (she always has the best takes I don't agree with all of them but they are always well-articulated) was that Zendaya was not fleshed out as a central figure, especially as a BLACK WOMAN. It was yet again another case of a Black woman dropped down from the moon coming from no people of her own, but just somehow existing in a sea of white people with not a hint of Black friends or loved ones.

Hell, they could've even laid out *her people* like the brilliantly underrated Beyond The Lights with Minnie Driver playing the stage manager mom to Gugu Mbatha Raw's biracial pop star. But that comes down to the white male gaze fucking it up, yet again. I looked up the screenwriter and just kind of nodded knowingly with an 'oh, yeah that's what I expected, that explains it...' He simply didn't have the range beyond a sort of vague tennis fetish for brown girls in short skirts grunting and swinging and wanting to do something with that. He admitted that Naomi and another Black woman player's interaction on the court *inspired* this...

Perception of Black women doing ANYTHING can be so heavy with a weirdly asexual gaze from white women and hyper-sexualized by white men. And if desire/centering tips in the "wrong" direction deemed by prejudice and our assumed place....*yeesh* we catch hell. You're either bafflingly too ugly to be treated with desire (whew the incel bigots are big mad that it's Zendaya and not a Sweeney-type) or only deemed good enough for it, because of that white gaze. And resented regardless.

*sigh* Can't win for losing. But I digress. Zendaya's co-stars are the oddest looking mystical-dwarf-head ass forest creature white boys with big ears, but they GAVE in the acting department. Mike Faist is a STAR. He has a sort of laidback sweetly confident rizz. But he definitely is the lovechild of a young Scott Glenn and DJ Qualls. I want to put him in a western immediately because he has Civil War photo face.

Mike O'Connor has that desperate dirty hairy scruffy thing like dude from The Bear. Like you KNOW he has a scratch tat somewhere and would do the dirty with his partner in the toilet stalls or anywhere else. Hollyweird is strange about beauty standards man. Back in the day, they used to pretend old white men, who looked like they smelled like Barbasol mixed w/ urine would somehow be sexy to a twentysomething. Now, we have this dichotomy of thankfully a little more of a diverse gaze for the centered "bombshell" other than blonde with large breasts number 32637263872.... but we also have some actresses cutting fat out their cheeks and being Ozempic thin. *sigh* ...While the "basic" hot boys are punching the air rn because they are also passé. Got to have something interesting going on in the face for everyone now, I think. Can't just be AI "pretty" anymore. Thankfully.

....Anyway. It is good, but with those caveats I laid out.

P.S. ICONIC for me is seeing Zendaya's Black-ass nose bridge drawn large on that poster. P.P.S Thank LUCA for doing the queer elements well... I personally don't think it went far enough, tho...

Mike bottoming for all, including getting pegged by Zendaya would've happened in my version of this... at least implied, come on (ficwriters?) Oh! and here are the clips from Closer, but then it was a successful play first, so the script is more substantial in that.

This is how filthy I expected Challengers to be, and it's just. not. Nothing in The Challengers touches the heavy heady nastiness in this scene IMO, but something in that movie should have, dammit! Note they never even touch each other.

#challengers #it is riveting #also that soundtrack!!! #already bookmarked on the spotify #atticus and trent do it again #so happy to see the goth industrial prince trent evolving to this movie score icon place now. #the challengers #josh o'connor #mike faist #zendaya #Youtube

[dg-outlaw]

Batfam Retail and Character Agency

So I've been thinking about how some people take issue with certain ships in the Batfam, especially in fanfic or general fanon. For example, JaySteph and how people will cry "ince$t" when these two or other characters are paired up in a ship.

One, I don't think these people know how biology/ancestry works because the only blood related members of the Batfam are Bruce, Damian, and Kate Kane despite them being called the BatFAM. Two, most of Bruce's adopted children were older or barely interacted in a sibling way as far as growing up together. Sure, they might have a sibling-coded relationship and are legally related, but the best example I can think of in how the Batfam works is not the Brady Bunch or Cheaper by the Dozen, but that they all are or have been co-workers at the same minimum wage retail store. Friendships, drama, dating, rivalries, and other such nonsense is sure to happen. It's called forced proximity and shared experience.

I'm thinking of writing up a humorous parallel of who's who in the retail realm when it comes to the Batfam, but including it here would make this post WAY too long

The other annoyance, that I sort of get IF looked at from the POV of DC editorial or writers (if that's their ill-conceived intention), is the idea that a character, more specifically a female character, is just getting "passed around". Instead, my only guess is that whoever is complaining about this is saying that the male character should be given a new, shiny, fresh off the showroom floor love interest and not some high-mileage used model. I use a car reference here because that's exactly how that female is seen when a person says this, whether they acknowledge it or not.

The female character, for example: Stephanie Brown, is no longer a person with her own autonomy and ability to choose or have agency. She's an object to be owned, possessed, or used for the sake of forwarding the male character's arc or to add drama (e.g. fridging or damsel in distress). To imply that Stephanie Brown (or any other character) is being "passed around" from Tim Drake to Jason Todd is to imply that Steph doesn't have nor did she ever have choice in the matter (again, JaySteph isn't even canon, but if it were to become canon, some people would still have a fit). And yes, these are fictional characters, but in writing them (whether officially by DC or in fanfics) they should be treated as real people with real choices and not some object or virginal "bride" for the male protagonist where you'd retcon past relationships.

Has Stephanie Brown always been treated fairly in comics? No. Has Jason? Also, no. Would pairing these two be some sort of "passing around" or "sloppy seconds" for Jason? If I have to answer that for you or you think 'Yes', then you probably don't see women as people. Canonically, I think Jason has had more love interests so if anything Steph would be the one getting someone else's "sloppy seconds", thirds, fourths, etc.

Again, see the above about retail co-workers. Steph once dated Tim. It was their first job and their first real, young love. It was good, it was bad, they made out in the break room, they broke up in the middle of Customer Service, etc. Former employee, Jason, comes by and picks up random shifts when Bruce is really desperate. Steph and Jason meet and hang-out over a few shifts, even though Bruce doesn't trust either of them and would rather they work somewhere else. Maybe they got stuck working Black Friday and the holidays together and boom, sparks happened. It's maybe weird or awkward for Tim, but Tim fell in love with the snack and soda machine vendor, Bernard, so it's really no big deal.

So if someone can date their co-worker, break-up, and then date another co-worker, it should be none of your damn business (assuming everything is legal, consenting, and above board) if none of those people are you.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

#jason todd #red hood #stephanie brown #batgirl #stephanie brown spoiler #dc comics #jaysteph #batfam #women are people #why am I having to say that? #but also people are people and not possessions #still don't think I should have to say that #but here we are #ship and let ship #it's all make believe #but if this is how you see fictional characters... #how do you see real people? #long post

[tired-fandom-ndn]

The fact that Alastor is canonically more comfortable around women is so interesting to me.

He doesn't seem to mind it when Rosie and Nifty touch him or enter his personal space. Rosie also seems to be aware of his plans to some extent. Mimzy has been using him as a get out of jail free card for DECADES before he told her to stop.

Meanwhile, when he interacts with other men it is usually much more hostile. He humiliates Vox, keeps Zestial at a distance and refuses to share information, has a rivalry with Lucifer, and we all remember how the Husk scene went.

And that makes the idea of Alastor being in a lavender marriage in life so much more interesting, too.

Because Alastor is good with women, he genuinely LIKES spending time with them. Chances are he got along well with his wife, possibly being close friends.

And the more I think about it, the clearer I can see Alastor being raised by a single mother and developing "girly" hobbies, such as cooking or sewing, and being used to housework. A well-dressed man who hangs out with plenty of women but never makes an advance. There would be rumors about him being gay, and men would hate him either for getting too close to their wives, for being a pansy, or both.

Alastor, in hell, waiting patiently for his wife. Because she was his friend. Because she never loved him and he never loved her, but extra souls never hurt and he'd rather keep her close than let someone like Vox get his hands on her.

[context]

GOD ANON HOW DID YOU READ MY MIND

Like this is EXACTLY what I was picturing holy shit. Alastor raised by a single mother (or with a very absent and/or abusive father), taught how to cook, clean, sew, and garden. I headcanon that he was also a hunter from a pretty young age, but even then they worked together to make an income from the hunting, not just eating or selling the meat but also making clothes from the hides and furs. Alastor is, at his roots, a homemaker which was NOT at all typical for men in his time.

His mother also taught him how to respect women and treat them well, always the perfect gentleman, and that combined with his "oddities" and distrust of men definitely led to his friends being almost entirely women (probably with scattering of queer men). The rumors about him would've been RAMPANT, especially when combined with the racism he'd be facing anyway (Word of God says he's mixed, I headcanon him as Black and Choctaw on his mom's side, white on his dad's), which would just drive him further away from forming any sort of relationships with other men.

I think his wife (I've been headcanoning her as Black too, from a lowerclass family like Alastor's) was probably one of those friends, one of the many women who was easily charmed by his bright smiles and kindness but maybe one of the very, very few people who saw a hint of sharpness in his smile or heard the little thread of truth in his darker jokes. She didn't truly understand Alastor, not like Mimzy did, but she saw enough that he trusted they could have a relatively happy and open life together, with him using their marriage as a shield against suspicion. And the fact that their marriage would benefit her too, giving her more freedom than she would get from living with her family and letting her carry on her relationship with her own lover, was absolutely a bonus.

And they were happy. She didn't tell him about her lover, he didn't tell her about his little hobby, but they were happy. They made a home together, laughed and gossiped over meals, and filled their house with constant music and warmth. Their garden was the envy of their neighborhood (and if she wondered where he got the bones and blood their flowers loved so much, she never asked) and they were the life of every party they were invited to. They didn't love each other, but they didn't need to. They were friends and that's all that mattered.

And yeah, I think Alastor absolutely waited for her or sought her out in Hell. Maybe he never found her and was content in the knowledge that she made it into Heaven. Maybe he found her a few decades after his own death and offered her up a simple contract, something to protect her from other overlords while giving her as much freedom as an owned soul has. He keeps her on as one of his reserved souls (like I mentioned here) and they share meals together every so often and sometimes he summons her to act as a background singer or play an instrument to accompany his singing.

They never talk about their previous relationship, partially because it's just not important to who they are in Hell and partially because it would put her in too much danger. Alastor probably mentions having been married in life a few times and everyone just assumes that Mimzy was his wife and that her contract keeps her from talking about it.

#Anonymous #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel

[bohemian-nights]

Once more I’m quite unsure as to why everyone feels the need to ignore the source material. Season 3 not being about Benophie still boggles my mind because why???!??!! Not to be a hater but Colin is uninteresting and unattractive (no hate to the actor he’s just not my type) to me. And I personally can’t stand Penelope (once again no hate to the actress) so I’m not really interested in this season tbh. On a side note there is a possibility to make Sophie a illegitimate granddaughter of Charlotte especially since in Queen Charlotte she says along the lines of how there are 50 illegitimate grand babies that [she] the crown ignores.

I know what you mean anon. Nothing against either of the actors playing the characters or the fans who like the ship, but Polin just isn't my cup of tea.

We all have our faves and mine is Benophie. I’m a Benophie and then a Franchael girl through and through.

That being said, despite me being a Benophie girl I don’t mind that they’ve skipped over Benedict. I mean I was initially pissed the hell off about it, but I think I understand now why Shonda did what she did.

This is gonna sound nonsensical, and weird, and is probably going to piss someone off(lol I’m the queen of that apparently👑), but there have been back to back to back interracial couples in Bridgerton.

I’m almost positive Sophie is going to be Black(🤞🏽) and while this show prides itself on diversity, I think they wanted to give white audiences a bone. So for that reason, she chose to push Polin’s season ahead.

Plus I think Shonda sees herself in Penelope(writer, “working woman,” the wallflower, and hater of other women💀).

I’m kinda glad she did push Polin’s season forward given what happened with the strike situation…

I do not mind waiting another two years for Benophie. I’ll “suffer” through this season for them and who knows, this season may surprise me and I may end up loving it 🤷🏽‍♀️

Now regarding, Sophie’s parentage, it would be interesting if they made her an illegitimate grandkid of Queen Charlotte and see how she has to deal with that. How the queen interacts with her, as well as the rest of the ton.

(I don’t think that in this scenario her being a bastard would be hidden or not common knowledge).

I know some people aren’t too fond of Sophie being Black🙃 a maid while Benedict is who is.

Her being QC's illegitimate granddaughter would be a way to kinda pivot from her being a maid while keeping the fact that she’s a bastard without a proper place in society.

I feel like the former is less important than her being the latter. She’s more than just her employment.

Sophie has to deal with the fact that she was robbed of a proper childhood, protection, financial security, love, and a sense of belonging. Yet she still manages to be a kind considerate human being with staunch morals and principles.

(I love girls who’ve been through so much, but still manage to survive and thrive. I blame Jane Eyre).

As long as Shonda tackles those issues and we see Benedict falling head over heels for her(even when he thinks he’s fallen for two different women🤣)I’m good with whatever happens.

The show has already made a lot of changes to the book. Some good some bad, but making Sophie one of many bastard grandchildren of the crown makes the most sense and has the potential to be the most interesting(for me at least).

#bnasks #bnask #bridgerton asks #benophie #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton

[dadbastiandisaster]

Fuck it

🕸️🕷️✨Claude headcanons✨🕷️🕸️

Yes i know his characterisation is utter shit and yes i am taking a marie kondo approach to the s2 canon

Sebastian had at least been around humans before his contract, so he at least had a passing idea of how to Human. Claude had not. Only interacted with humans ever if murder counts.

He’s actually short-sighted (someone on a wattpad book Black Butler Headcanons I can’t find for the life of me because wattpad utterly fucked up their search system suggested this was because his true form has eight eyes and I love it. I think the person who wrote it was called something like ‘The King Fisher’, so if that sounds familiar, say and I’ll tag you)

He has very little concept of social norms. Alois will be like ‘men are supposed to wear trousers and women are supposed to wear skirts >:(‘ and claude will be like

They’re both coming at the ‘gender is bullshit’ thing from two very different places

Sebastian is over-achieving as far as Claude’s concerned. He’s got three other Demons working for him and he’s going to make the most of it, there is no benefit from doing more than he has to.

He has mixed feeling about Alois. On the one hand he does know that Alois’ situation is not great and has even grown somewhat fond of him (platonically i swear to fuck some people in this fandom) but on the other there are few people on the planet less equipped to help than him.

Jokes aside, I imagine it’s a he/they/it situation, but it’s the Victorian era so Alois was like ‘well you’re probably not a woman so unfortunately that leaves you with one other option’ and Claude was like ‘that’s fine, how long could these contract things last anyway?’

His life pre-contract was basically just surviving in Hell, which has left him with extensive knowledge of nature and no sense of identity

Hates people, loves animals!

Took the contract more out of curiosity than anything else. He fucked around and found out!

Most of Alois and his contract is ‘if you have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing and I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing who’s driving this ship?’

The answer is Hannah obviously

My interpretation of the Hannah-Claude situation is that Claude (somehow) knows that Hannah killed Alois’ brother and that chasing after Sebastian is totally pointless, but if he tells Alois, Hannah will kill him (I hc Hannah as a very old, very powerful Demon). Hannah obviously doesn’t want Alois to find out the truth, so she has to sabotage quite a lot of Alois’ plans (which Claude has to carry out, so it makes his life a lot harder, which is Not A Vibe as far as Claude’s concerned)

Plus Hannah is like ‘actually you’re doing a shit job with Alois’ (true) ‘and if I had this contract instead of you he would be fine’ (not true)

Sort of mid-level Demon. Like he’s in pretty good health (aside from the crappy eyesight) but he’s not especially skilled in combat. He’s just sort of meh.

He likes knitting, crocheting, sewing, lace-making etc because it’s similar to web-building and he finds it relaxing

Sebastian fucking hates him after the Ciel kidnapping incident but the hatred is entirely one-sided. Claude does not give a singular shit about Sebastian, just thinks he’s (as the kids say) a bit of a try-hard

Knows for a Fact that Alois is a lot smarter than he lets on. Doesn’t rat him out on it though, he doesn’t get paid extra to be a snitch, and he’d probably do the same if the situation allowed

I’m torn between ‘totally non-judgemental’ and ‘is a massive bitch’, so I think it’s both. Totally non-judgemental is he’s ambivalent to/likes you, if he dislikes you he is judging you on everything you do right down to how you butter your toast and will chat shit behind your back

Even he didn’t like the previous Earl Trancy

Really not a fan of physical affection

I think if he and Aunt Frances met, it would be a case of unstoppable force (Aunt Frances knowing that Claude is doing 10000 things wrong and cutting so many corners he now has a circle) vs immovable object (Claude doesn’t care). The Sebastian - Aunt Frances dynamic heavily relies on Sebastian caring about her opinion and Claude simply does not have that problem.

Unlike Sebastian, he sometimes sleeps.

I don’t think he’s aro/ace he’s just never really had much of a chance to explore any of that,

Anyway, I will stop for now, this is already very long. I might make ones for Hannah and the Triplets because I will simply never stop talking about the kuro demons

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #claude faustus #black butler 2 #black butler season 2 #black butler headcanons #headcanons #i have such a specific characterisation of claude in my head #and it bugs me far more than i should when i see people with other ones #like i don’t actually think im right but also im the only person who can write claude correctly #and everyone else should check with me before posting any claude Faustus content #hes a nerd hes a freak he likes knitting hes judging you for what order you eat the food on your plate #using he/him bc thats what the show uses #original post

[thevestigeofvanillaan]

Dates. K.W

kit walker x female therapist!reader

content: smut?, mention of getting caught, therapy, brief mention of "god", first person, cock riding, brief swearing.

February 5th, I met Kit Walker.

"Hey Mr. Walker," I'd greet myself before telling him my name, giving him an optional nickname.

It's the art of kindness that gets you places. If you treat someone with respect, they'll open up to you.

Being a doctor in this place is like being God in heaven.

You have the upper hand, the sense of directory.

Kit Walker had a Boston accent, several scrapes on his body, pale skin, precious brown hair.. he looked innocent.

I knew that he was innocent. I was his therapist that would help them decide his treatments.

March 3rd.

"Tell me Kit, what do you remember from the night you were 'abducted'?" I ask.

Kit became more comfortable with me, he felt like he could trust me. Because, he could. I would tell lies to Sister Jude; lie about what he'd really said during our meetings.

When we first met I told him what is said between us stays between us.

As our sessions continued daily, we learned more about each other. He didn't hate women, not at all.

Kit was always respectful when talking to me.

April 2nd.

"I just wanna get outta here.." Kit sighs. "That's why I tried to run away. It wasn't so I could kill like all them say."

"I get it." I say, placing a hand on his knee and he places a hand over mine.

"I'd never do nothin' to hurt you." I see genuinity in his face. The furrowed brows, the glistening in his eyes.

Smiling, "I know you wouldn't, Kit."

We got closer each and every passing day.

Each day Kit would tell me about his past, his favorite things. But he mostly liked hearing what I had to say. Hearing about my past, my favorite things, why I'm so nice to him.

Really, I think it's because I see myself in him.

April 23rd, we kissed.

It sounds almost stupid to say out loud.

No good therapist fixes people's problems with sexual interactions, especially not in a situation like this.

Kit was awfully different, though. Kit wasn't a patient to me. Kit was a friend, a.. crush, even.

May 7th.

"What happened to you?" I ask, noticing his black eye.

"Nothin', they just wanted to know some stuff an' I guess I said the 'wrong answer'." Kit smiles softly. "I'm okay, I get to see you now."

May 19th.

"Been on too many dates now, when'm I gonna get to feel you." Kit smirks.

Sometimes, Kit was more flirty than other times. There have been times where Kit was mad, he'd usually take that frustration out by kissing me. Times where Kit was upset, and I'd hold him.

"That's not what this is, Kit." I giggle softly.

Kit would let out a breathy laugh, "You wish it was, don't you."

Today, June 1st.

"Can you come here?" Kit says seruously, right as the guard that brought him in leaves the room.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I mean, can you come here.. wanna touch you." Kit says slowly and I get up, standing in front of him.

Kit brings his hands to my waist and leads them down slowly to my back upper thigh, spreading them apart and pulling me in to straddle his lap.

"Can I love you?" Kit whispers into my neck with hot breath before latching onto my neck, kissing the skin softly.

I moan softly with closed lips and buck my hips against him when he moves his hands to fold my skirt upwards, revealing my white panties.

Kit massages my ass with his hands as he kisses my jaw, I lean my head down to look at him before kissing his lips softly.

"Bad day?" I ask, grinding my hips against his lap as we make eyecontact.

He nods, "mhm. Need you." Kit looks down and brings one hand to cup my cunt over panties, then under.

I kiss him and moan into his mouth, riding his hand before bringing my hands to his belt, undoing it as we continue to kiss.

Kit pulls down my panties and I pull down his pants and boxers, leading his cock to my entrance before sliding myself down onto him.

It felt amazing. I rode him, holding onto his shoulders as I bounce myself on his cock.

Kissing him and moaning into one another's mouths as pent up frustration and sexual need is blown from the air and let out the window.

I didn't want it to stop, but it had to eventually.

Breathing heavily into each other's mouths as we ride out our highs, I giggle softly at the look on his face. The pretty smirk, his eyes glistening.

Kit was so pretty.

But moments like these are short lasted when you get caught..

#vanillaan #smut #ahs #american horror story #kit walker #ahs asylum #evan peters #kit walker x reader