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#hes a horrible person who is made such from being a victim of a horrible injustice
localspacefaggot · 4 months
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Come here, baby gays, and let me tell you the story about how James Somerton made me so fucking angry with a single line that I had to make this post.
As I now know, most of his audience is young queers and there are things we NEED you to know.
The fight for marriage equality was a massive fucking deal and I will tell you why with a very personal story.
My mom was a nurse during the AIDS crisis. And I mean she started working as a nurse out of school in 85. My mom was on the front lines. She worked with so many AIDS patients that it genuinely altered her brain chemistry. My mother was a homophobe before her nursing career. She was a massive supporter of gay rights until she died in July because of what she saw during her career.
And what did she see?
She saw people who had been abandoned by their families dying with their partners at their side.
And then suddenly…the family would materialize, ban the partner from the room, kick them out of their homes they had lived in with their dying partners for decades, and then watched them ban their partners from even attending the funerals or visiting the graves. Imagine being denied your right to grieve.
And why was this possible? Oh simple. They weren’t married. They weren’t legally bound, the partners weren’t considered next of kin because they weren’t fucking married.
I watched my mom pass. It was horrible and painful and traumatic and terrifying. But it was closure. And I wouldn’t have it any other way because I know…that who my mom wanted by her when she passed was my dad. Because she was scared, she wanted her partner by her side and she was terrified she was going to die. My dad couldn’t be there. He had to work, which sounds cold but understand he had been off work for a month by that point and he was the only one who had health insurance. He wanted to be there, we had made plans to take her off the life support when he came back (we were 4 hours from him) but there was a freak accident and she passed the night after he left to return to work.
Why am I telling you this? Because I need you to understand how important this is to some people. So you can understand how big a slap to the face it is to have people say “marriage equality isn’t that important”. You can understand why someone like James Somerton rolling his eyes at marriage equality and implying we weren’t focused on job equality and discrimination (information that is WHOLEY untrue) would make me see red.
It’s not trivial. It’s not meaningless. It wasn’t about “assimilating” or “appearing normal” (we’re already normal).
It’s about people who had their children taken from them because they weren’t the biological parent. It’s about people who never got to comfort their loved ones in their final days. It’s about people who weren’t able to comforted by their partners in their final days.
So the next time you think “why waste your time on something as trivial as marriage?” Remember my mother. Look up testimony from victims of the AIDS crisis. Remember the people who advocated for marriage equality were the survivors who were torn from the love of their life.
Remember that we advocated so damn hard to give you the right to grieve.
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starwrighter · 6 months
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1/?? Halloween prompt
I’ve got brain rot for creepy Deadserious content but only when it’s only seen as creepy by outsiders. (I know I’m writing a fic with a similar plot but it’s different I swear! Also my grammar is shit because I’m getting dental work done tomorrow and I’m nervous) Tw for stalker behavior
So Damian has a crush on Danny and immediately goes about acting on these feelings much to onlookers horror. Danny is swooning because someone made the effort to do a background check on him. Danny thinks Damian doing this is really smart because, he could be a serial killer for ancients sake why would you risk that? Others say this is a horrible invasion of privacy.
Damian not realizing he's being creepy (being liminal and being an ex assassin, turned vigilante wasn't doing him any favors) Plus Danny also not realizing it's creepy unless you relay Damian behavior towards him with different names.
Damian's just being a textbook stalker, breaking into his house and shit and Danny's all like "awwww he likes me" because this is just normal ghostly courting rituals! His dormroom isn't his lair so Damian breaking in doesn't feel like he's violating any sort of boundary. To him it's like a friend showing up at the coffee shop you work at to say hi.
Danny's had stalkers before, he's very cautious of his behavior to insure he never stalked anyone. Being stalked back in Amity was a horrific experience for him. From cameras in the locker rooms at school (wes) to cameras in his bathroom and bedroom at home (Vlad)! He couldn't feel safe anywhere! To Danny Damian's not a stalker, he's his protector. Nobody seems to understand when he tries to explain this though they just look at him like he's lost his mind.
Damian’s not subtle at all and Danny’s kicking his feet like a lovesick school girl who found out her crush likes her back. Overall it’s super cute from their points of view Damian’s planning an official confession to ask him on a date while Danny’s trying to figure out if Damian actually likes him or is just being nice. They’re just doing normal couple things but people just jump and attack Damian’s character while painting Danny as some kind of brainwashed victim.
The thing is… Danny’s become very good at appearing normal while Damian refuses to pretend to be a bumbling idiot like the rest of his family. He also refuses to dull down his personality for anything other than secret identity reasons. For these reasons since their relationship had become public, Damian had been painted by the media as a creepy possessive boyfriend who threatened Danny into a relationship. This infuriates Danny, the only one doing any kind of possession is him god damn it!
They want to be around each other all the time and that’s normal behavior for ghost/liminal couples! They live much longer than regular humans do they’re like elves, their perceptions of time are messed up. They still spend time apart they still have hobbies and an independent life, people just get hung up on the amount of time they do spend together. It’s normal behavior for them to know mountains of information about each others interests to the point they almost know more than each other. It’s normal to know each other’s schedules and background check the people they associate with. (The realms are very dangerous with shapeshifters and manipulators like spectra and Desiree who can ruin your afterlife in a matter of minutes) Their relationship is creepy to those who haven’t gone to extremes to survive.
Damian has taken to ignoring the reputation press has given him. He’s dealt with paparazzi and tabloids before it’s just frustrating to deal with. It’s when people start accusing him of hurting his beloved that really pisses him off.
(Bonus if Danny’s the one frothing at the mouth to maul a reporter while they try to paint him as a poor innocent victim)
I’mma end the prompt with this so everyone understands why Damian specifically being targeted by press. The more liminal you are the more creepy/uncanny you appear to other people and the more effort you have to put in to hide it. It’s why the bats are more believed to be Eldritch creatures than actual humans in suits. Surprisingly becoming a Halfa completely changes this effect to do the complete opposite. It’s easier for the human brain to look at a halfa and think “Innocent or normal,” Vlad and Danny were morons when it came to actually hiding their identity’s it was only their statuses as halfa’s that prevented people from comprehending them being anything other than normal.
In short Damian’s too dead to be perceived as normal while Danny’s too alive to be perceived as anything other than normal.
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elizakai · 2 months
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I like thinking about their more canon adjacent dynamic (character wise)
MINI ANALYSIS TIME
Because while I love the soft interpretations, even WITH those let’s be real; that’s not how they’d act off the bat
Horror would be extremely judgmental (fair) and hate Dust for what he did. He’d despise him and probably be very passive aggressive. Making jabs and making his disdain apparent when they have to interact. I think getting a read on Dust is also difficult and would piss Horror off. Horror is unpredictable and has a sadistic streak, if he was mad or manic and had Dust in a corner he’d have no qualms about manhandling the guy. (And Dust probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.)
Meanwhile, Dusttale’s creator was asked once how Dust may feel if he met Horror, to which they said he feels bad for Horror. He likes him, sees him as someone who went through something horribly undeserved. In my mind Dust is somewhat protective of Horror.
I interpret these clashing of dynamics as Horror’s just utter disdain for this guy, and Dust’s resigned acceptance of Horror’s judgment. He’d agree with him if he were to judge himself, but I think a part of him wants Horror’s approval. He doesn’t EVER expect to get it, but Horror is….
While he’s seen hell, he’s almost a less tormented version of Dust himself. Deep down they are the same. Horror has suffered greatly, but even still hasn’t hit the deep end dust has, and I think he’d want to protect that sort of innocence he’s granted. One could think of it as him protecting a piece of himself he himself has already sacrificed. And wanting APPROVAL from him, wishing to be forgiven, craving that small piece of validation or understanding as he tries to reconcile with himself.
Horror’s formed opinion makes sense, he agrees with it, and simply wishes he disagreed, that he could have proof of himself being a FRACTION worthy of forgiveness or understanding.
The judge in both of them has both formed an opinion of the other, and they happen to differ greatly. Horror sees Dust as an abuser and Dust sees Horror as a victim.
I like to imagine that, while reluctantly thrown into the same general vicinity, Horror would grow to be more understanding (again if we are going with a PROGRESSIVE plot line) and come to understand that, yes, he wasn’t WRONG, but there is nuance to the situation. They both have a very grim understanding of what it’s like to be trapped. I think he has the capacity to understand Dust better if he was given time. His hands aren’t clean after all, and he knows what it’s like to be forced into a situation and to feel backed into a drastic decision. He knows what it’s like to lose your autonomy and to feel your mind break itself under pressure.
I think the simple fact that Dust wouldn’t TRY to change his mind or justify himself would be part of why Horror could come to understand him. He’s devestated by his actions, he is by no means a sadist.
Horror coming to understand Dust and sort of reconcile/forgive him I think would be rather BIG for Horror, especially if you factor in other situations he now has to consider. (For example, his Undyne and her drastic attempt at freeing the undergroud…) reconciling his OWN arguably cruel decisions he has made with pure intentions, when he feels there’s no other choice (like his Papyrus and tricking him into doing something so outside of his beliefs, to protect him)
It would also be healing for Dust to get that reconciliation with Horror because again…Horror’s opinion actually may MATTER.
And in the same way that Dust may see Horror as a sort of person to be protected from further harm, Horror would probably pick up on all of the VERY bad habits Dust has that (in my observation at least) are EXTREMELY similar to his own habits/past habits (isolation, obsession, deprivation, paranoia, bringing harm to self etc) and I could see him being sensitive towards those and trying to prevent it worsening (it’s a sore subject💔) Horror is shown to prioritize taking care of those he cares about, even when he’s a bit mad, and he has the capacity to grow an understanding for someone he doesn’t like initially :))
I think they have potential to be VERY good for one another, Horror (while being fucked up) encourages (and maybe forces) better habits and actually has an opinion that matters to Dust, and Dust is inclined to be VERY loyal (Horror needs someone to show him loyalty.) to anyone who cares to give him the time of day, as it’s far beyond what he’d expect, and he’s got the sympathy/protective streak towards Horror as an actual in character detail.
And from there it would be wonderful to explore their dynamic in whatever way you like to interpret it🤫💥
I could go on but I’ll stop here, if you read this all CONGRATS!!!
Share your thoughts I love it
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snifferish · 16 days
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Never in my life did I think that re-tweeting resources for SA, and supporting victims would be considered problematic or performative.
I should not have to bare this, but I'm going to tell just one of my stories, because I need you to understand where I'm coming from. TW // Sexual Harassment
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When I was 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. I wanted to avoid using the pain medication they prescribed. I struggle a lot with sensory issues, medications and substances made it worse.
However, my surgery was for impacted teeth, and only two days in one of my stitches fell out. I was in so much pain, and couldn't eat solids w/ out pain for up to three weeks.
So, a week into my recovery, one of my friends invites me to their house. They were having our friend group over, it was just a little bonfire get together kinda thing. I took my pain meds a few hours prior, and only half a dose, but I was out of it to some degree, and somehow still in pain.
I was sitting on a lawn chair outside, when one of my close friends came over and asked to sit on my lap. Honestly, I said yes at first, because this was my childhood friend, someone I trusted, and I thought our relationship was incredibly platonic. Then he started to shift/grind about in my lap, and I started to feel things of theirs I did not want to. They made a noise that deeply unsettled me, and I told him to get off, they didn't. It was only when I told them that he accidently triggered the emergency call shortcut on my phone (it was in the pocket of the lawn chair, yes they were moving that much and I was moving trying to push him off) that he finally got up.
I was bewildered, and a bit confused, and also embarrassed that my phone nearly called 911. I claimed I wasn't feeling well, and went home early.
That was the first time someone touched me in a remotely sexual way, but I didn't dare to label it until I talked to my therapist. It made me dwell on a lot of experiences with this person as well. How obsessed they were with being taller than me, how often they'd grab me and force me to see if they were stronger than me. At the time, I was in a friend group of predominately non-men, and they were all friends with this person.
However, when I told them about this, when I expressed the discomfort it brought me. I was brushed off. "He's just like that!" oh "He probably didn't mean it" etc.
I didn't feel comfortable in the same room as this person. My friends would continue to invite them to hang outs. One of my other friends told everyone about what happened without my permission. I started having breakdowns in my classes with him. I had panic attacks all the time. I felt as if I had to continue this façade of being nice to him, or else I would lose my friends of years and years.
I was happy when covid started, because for the first time I had breathing room, but by then so much of my trust was dismantled.
Due to my friends association with this person, and the fact that not being their friend excluded me. I eventually got over it, and told myself I'd grown past it.
Three months ago, this same person admitted to me they hold extreme grudges against me, that they projected their "mommy issues" on to me, and quite literally said the words, "Yeah yeah, you're a woman who's outspoken and challenged me and that bothers me yeah yeah." in regards to that. They said it with sarcasm, like it was something they knew, and their mother was reminding them for the 12th time.
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I bring this all up, not to make you feel guilty, but to discuss the harm of not supporting victims, not listening to them. It puts them in a position of isolation, and in a position to potentially be hurt again.
So yeah, I'm gonna be a little upset when people say I'm being "performative" about supporting victims of sexual harassment and SA. I'm not doing this because it benefits me, in fact it's caused a lot of backlash, horrible dms, and very triggering memories.
I'm doing it because I was once not heard, and i've sat with Caiti behind the scenes for months watching her lose passion for something she loved (content creation).
I didn't do this because I'm secretly sniveling behind the scenes tapping my fingers praying on peoples downfall. I'm not a Disney villain dude lmfao.
Honestly, this narrative that is being pushed, that people are doing it "because it benefits them" is quite ironic, considering most of the people talked about within the last 72 hours were under Wilbur's weird ass apology doing just that.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate how people are okay with this narrative, the misogynist undertones of it. I've seen people admit that they didn't like me or my friends the entire time, while simultaneously "calling us out" about this, so I ask you,
Are you calling us? Because it benefits your motives? Your feelings?
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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months
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hii! can i please request a mafia! carlos with reader who are in an arranged marriage and 2 months into the marriage reader is victim of a kidnapping which gets her very sick and Carlos takes care of her while also getting revenge? thank you so much ( i love your writing it’s amazing!)
A/N: I've missed writing for Mafia!Carlos he's just sdfksjlfa especially after those Ferrari gala pcis
Never touch what belongs to Carlos Sainz. This was the golden rule of staying alive and out of sight of the Mafia Leader. Don't touch and don't yearn for what is his, especially his pretty fiancée now wife. Carlos made the rules very clear, touch them and he'll murder you in the most exotic and painful ways to die.
He was careful of you, making sure you were treated with the outmost respect and making sure you were safe and happy. Yes, it was an arranged marriage but that didn't mean he'd treat you horribly. He bought you anything you lingered at too long and of course you'd tell him you didn't need it, but he still bought it.
Carlos and you formed a friendship built on some trust and respect. Waking that morning, it was like any other. You are getting ready, Calros showering him coming out in the towel and kissing your cheek. You giggle and pull him to your vanity as you fix his hair. "Mi felicidad, don't worry about me." He grumbles, trying his best not to let out the moan. Your fingers always felt like magic against his skull.
"Let me do this, you do so much for me." You whisper finishing the last strand happy with the way it sits. "There you go," Carlos smiles and reaches around, grabbing your hand. "Thank you," Placing a kiss on your hand.
After that, your day carries on like normal. Sending a quick text you tell Carlos you're running to the grocery making sure you'd pick up his favorite beer and snacks. He sends you back a text, saying to be careful and he'll see you when you get back.
Smiling you carry the groceries to the car, you stop feeling something heavy hit you in the back of the head, and all you can see is darkness wrapping you tight.
"She should be back," Carlos grounds out, trying to stay calm before he jumps to the worst possible things. "Maybe the store is busy, maybe traffic, shit." Carlos pulls at his hair, but curses as he messes it up. He hates messing up his hair when you're the one who fixed it. "Sir," Carlos whips around, feeling his entire being drop out from under him as he sees his guard holding your bag and broken groceries.
Everything hurt, even that voice in your head was hurting, how was that even possible. "Conejita?" A muffled voice pulls you out of the darkness, trying to open your eyes. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here." Fingers move into your scalp and start to move their thick fingers gently. "I'm right here, and not going anywhere you're safe." The voice fades out as darkness sucks you in again.
"Sir, you need to get some rest." The Mafia doctor whispers, being careful to not anger the growing storm in his boss. "I'll rest when the monsters who did this are dead." Carlos growls, he stops when you whimper and squirm in your sleep. "How's the infection?" Carlos asks, looking at your bandaged side.
"Somewhat better, the antibiotics are working but it'll be a long recovery road." The doc whispers, injecting another dose of the medication. "Good, if she dies," The doctor freezes, already knowing that threat aout to leave his mouth.
He's told everyone that touches you; if you die, so do they. His revenge has been a slow process, as you've been on the mend for 3 weeks and only you opening your eyes maybe 3 or 4 times. He was there for each time and his voice the only one you heard. You knew he was there; his hand was holding yours.
Carlos doesn't know when the man leaves, all he knows is you're breathing, and color was coming back. "Mi corazón, babe, Y/n, I need you to wake up. Please, come back to me." Carlos whispers, having never missed a person like this before. He was craving you like a drug.
"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you but," Carlos turns, placing a quick kiss before he stands. "Did you find them?" "Yes sir, they're here." Carlos rolls his neck and shoulders before smirking, a dark look crossing his face. "Well then, let's get to work."
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3
Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕
Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:
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It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to. 
“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.” 
“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger. 
“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in. 
“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.” 
“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day. 
You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself. 
“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation. 
It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope. 
But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong. 
“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger. 
The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol. 
Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions. 
Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there. 
“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.
“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.” 
“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him. 
“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted. 
His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in. 
He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away. 
He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care, 
He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky. 
“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow. 
“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion. 
Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever. 
He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core. 
Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality. 
Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper. 
He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit. 
He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower. 
It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue. 
“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes. 
You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that. 
Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you. 
You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one. 
“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth. 
When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid. 
You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you. 
“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right. 
And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god. 
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theemporium · 5 months
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It should have scared you that your boyfriend was a killer.
The whole town was terrified when the first victim was found. People became more paranoid and frightened with each victim after. Every single sane person in Hawkins, Indiana were having the normal, expected reaction to a serial killer being loose in their home and possibly being someone they know very well. 
And in the beginning, you were just like them. 
You felt on edge. You were scared to turn every corner when you didn’t know who could be on the other side. You were just as scared and frightened and confused as the rest of the Hawkins citizens. 
And then, one fateful night, the killer revealed himself to you. 
It should have fucking terrified you that your boyfriend was the ‘ghostface’ killer running through town, murdering and slashing and killing. It should have fucking disgusted you that the boy you loved—the sunshine, happy boy-next-door that was adored by everyone—was capable of such heinous and horrible crimes. It should have made you sick to the stomach to know the same hands that caressed you were the same hands capable of brutal and merciless murder. 
It should have. If you were normal, it would have. 
But maybe you were just as fucked up as Steve Harrington.
Maybe you were just as fucked up because despite knowing the truth, despite knowing what he was capable of and what he was continuing to do, you still wanted him. You fucking wanted him and you weren’t even sure why. You were still letting him go out into the world and taking more lives, and you were letting him come crawling through your bedroom window after all was said and done.��
Just like tonight, when Steve had pulled himself through your window, acting far more agitated and annoyed than he usually was. 
You barely got a chance to say anything before he was pulling his bloody clothes off (the ones he usually hid from you, or left in his car after he changed) and threw them onto your bedroom floor. He pushed you back on the bed, crawling over your body and not even letting you pull your nightgown off before he was sliding the dress up your hips and exposing your needy cunt to him. 
“I do it to protect you, honey,” he groaned, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as his hips thrusted. “The world is a dangerous place, not good for a good girl like you.”
“Steve,” you breathed out, your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails digging into his shoulders, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting that spot over and over and over. 
“M’doin’ this for you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, his heavy breathing fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck and you couldn’t help but mewl as his lips traced along your pulse point. “Need the world to be perfect for my girl. They don’t fucking deserve you, honey. They don’t fucking deserve to even look at you, let alone breath.”
“Oh shit,” you cried out, pushing your head back further into the pillow as your lips parted with a silent scream.
“Youyouyouyouyou,” he continued to chant as he fucked you, as his hips left bruises on your hips from his tight grip as his teeth marked up the skin on your throat. He was doing all of this for you, he was doing it so the world he envisioned with a future for you two in it was absolutely fucking perfect. 
Everything he did would always be for you.
“Gonna keep you here,” Steve said between short and heavy pants, each word emphasised with a thrust of his hips. “All fucked out and pretty, just f’me. Whatcha think, honey? You wanna stay here and be my perfect, lil’ angel?”
You nodded dumbly, not a single coherent thought in your head able to string a sentence together. 
“Mine forever,” he growled as he lifted his head, his lips just brushing against yours as he completely bottomed out inside you, staying there for a short comment. “Yeah? All mine, honey. M’gonna show the world you’re all mine.”
One hand rested beside your head to keep himself hovering above you, but the other started to trace down your body until the warmth of his palm stopped on your stomach. 
“Gonna knock you up, honey,” Steve murmured, letting out a soft groan when he felt your walls clenching around him. “Yeah? You like that? You like the idea that I knock you up? Fill you up? Keep you as mine forever? Bet you’d look so pretty carrying my children, honey. So fucking perfect.”
“Please,” you rasped out, not even caring about anything other than your boyfriend filling you up.
“Shhh, don’t cry,” he cooed, a little mocking as he began to move again, as he held your face in his hand as he fucked you. “I’ve got you, honey. M’not going anywhere. Gonna stay right here and fuck you all night until that pretty pussy of yours is mine, you hear me?” 
You nodded again. 
“Good girl,” Steve murmured with a grin on his face. “Now hold your legs to your chest, honey. Gonna fuck you and make sure you keep every single drop inside you or m’gonna have to plug you up.”
.
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jonghoslvt · 6 months
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Seonghwa.
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Seonghwa is your serial killer boyfriend who is obsessed with you.
Notes; Seonghwa wears a custom made kitsune mask to hide his identity but mostly because he doesn’t like showing his face.
Little detail of his mask; it almost always has real blood stains on it.
Hints of yandere seonghwa if you squint ..
Pairings; Seonghwa X fem! Reader
Genre; horror slasher/smut~
Warnings; mentions of murder, blood, hair pulling, marking, cursing, choking and unprotected sex..just pure filth.
_____________________________________________
The night grew near as the sun started to set on halloween, the only night Seonghwa was never questioned, the only night Seonghwa ever ever looked normal wearing his mask amongst the neighborhood of teens, kids and even adults decked in Halloween costumes. No one knew who or what he was supposed to be, they just thought he was out to have fun like the rest of them. Hell he was out to have fun just not in a way others would. While Seonghwa liked to go after the ones who deserved to be punished, he also found himself diving into the ones who never saw it coming. Walking outside without a care in the world, not a single glance being shot at him from anyone around him. They didn’t know that his night was going horribly.
Seonghwa had his eyes set on one person for weeks, learning their schedule, finding out about who they kept in their lives. Imagine his surprise when the door swung open while his knife was guts deep in a victim. Just his luck right? Now he had to take out the witness, which was more difficult doing than he thought it would be. This one struggled, screamed and was extremely violent. He was so close to just leaving them be, because who doesn’t love inflicting some trauma but this one was too much for him to just forget about. Not to mention the clean up process was excruciatingly long. He arrived back home, the door practically slamming when he got in. You were sitting on the couch and got startled when you heard him come in. The reason you were home instead of out partying during a fun holiday was simply because you were tired from the previous night. Your friends and you had all went to a pumpkin patch and after attended a Halloween night at a very popular park in your city. It was fun even though you kept spotting Seonghwa despite telling him that you’d be fine and didn’t need to be watched over.
“You look upset.” You mention as he walks straight towards you, his mask covered in fresh blood. “I am,” he says lifting his mask over his mouth, but doesn’t go any further than that. “I need to fuck my frustration away” you raised your eyebrows “oh?” This was the usual thing when he was upset but it’s not as though you’re complaining, Seonghwa gets pretty rough in that state which means the sex is always better. But it’d been a month since any sort of intimacy like that happened, he was confident and always in a good mood till now. “You wanna talk about your day first or would you prefer the sex to be first?”
“How about,” he leans over you a hand grabbing your chin forcing you to look at him “I fuck you and talk about my shitty day as I’m deep in there?” You didn’t notice it before but even with the mask on His eyes were very expressive despite his lips not making a single move and the mask slightly covering em just a bit. Seonghwa absolutely hated to have it off, there were times where he’d remove it after you begged but most of the time he was able to resist your whines, of course there was temptation however he was insistent on never taking it off unless it was absolutely necessary. That mask was important to him, a symbol of who he was and practically his entire identity. When you see that mask on the news it sends shivers down your spine, Seonghwa took great pride in that.
“You can do that.”
“Good, because I need to be in you bad.” His lips meet yours and almost instantly your heart flutters. He wasn’t so much of an affectionate person so any sort of physical touch made you feel electric. It had the gears in your head turning, your mind running wild with thoughts that were filthy. He kissed you roughly and his hand had found it’s way up into your hair where he tugs on it, a whine coming out. The mask often collided with your face, the blood leaving stains on your cheeks and forehead. Seonghwa pulls back, licking his lips and biting them he growled and examined your flushed expression. “You look so fucking good with blood all over that pretty face of yours. I’m gonna ruin you.” You had no doubt that he meant every single word that came out of his mouth, usually during times like this he meant business. “Wanna taste you first, take those pants off before I cut em off.” You slid your pants down watching as Seonghwa tossed them carelessly off to the side. He went down to his knees and held you open, surprisingly you saw that he had lifted his mask up and off his face, his bangs falling over his eyebrows. It’d been awhile since you fully seen his face so this was a really good treat. Him having it off also reminded you that he had a really good looking nose, he didn’t taste you often because of his need to cover his face.
Seonghwa went down on you, his tongue flicking over your clit ever so often. He was teasing you, he’d bring you close to climax but stop right when you are about to. Within seconds his tongue was moving inside, fingers gripping your inner thigh for some hand support. This man’s head game was dangerously good and he was always able to make you cum several times from that alone. You arched your back and tugged on his hair which caused him to groan against your core, it made you cry out in pleasure. “Seonghwa..I can’t, it’s too overwhelming.” Whilst eating you out he looked up and into your eyes. It was like he was looking right through you, and it made your legs quiver. Feeling an orgasm pulling in your stomach, you didn’t say anything but somehow he knew and immediately stopped. This caused you to whine and beg for him to keep going.
“I’ll keep going baby, but with my cock in you, so you’ll have to take all of it.”
He unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his feet, his cock sprung up and hit Against his abdomen, leaking with precum and desperate to be inside of you. He leaned his body forward and held your legs in a straight up position, an arm wrapping around them to hold. Teasing the tip at your entrance and then slowly pushed his hips forward. As soon as it brushed against your spot he gave you no time to adjust before he pulled out and then slammed right into you. His pace was relentless as he fucked away his frustration, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his hair stuck to it. Your moans and whines were like music to his ears, as he was big on sound. he loved hearing people scream, cry out in pain, and he especially loved it when you were crying out in pleasure, he loved it because it meant he was making you feel good and he didn’t want anyone else to see you like this.
“Mine, you’re mines and no one else’s.” He opened your legs and placed his hand on your throat, tightening the grip. Your eyes rolled back as the slight lack of air traveled to your brain and made your body tingle in such an amazing fucking way. You loved it when he got this rough.
“I was upset because as I was knife deep in the guy who kept flirting with you last month, his friend who he hadn’t seen in months came walking through the door..” Seonghwa moved his hips in a circular motion because he knew that it drived you crazy. “I spent weeks following and watching him while you were with friends and unaware. I was going to leave him alone but my brain had an itch and I needed to scratch it, I needed to make sure he would never be able to bump into you again.” Seonghwa’s eyes were dark, his anger really showing in his face and his tone. “But his stupid fucking friend,”
He let go of your neck and you took the deepest breath of your life. It was exhilarating “it was going so well, I only had one body to dispose of..the clean up process would’ve been quick….but only if his fucking friend hadn’t walked in.” You found it absolutely insane that Seonghwa even went through all the trouble killing someone from a month ago, it really made you realize that he’s petty and can’t let things go, even if it’s small. He’s childish but you couldn’t help but love him so much. As he rolled his hips into you, he leaned forward and lifted up your shirt, conveniently you almost never wore a bra so it gave him easy access to suck and bite on your nipples, he left marks and growled at the sight in front of him. If you thought he left your neck empty you thought wrong because he made damn sure to mark you there as well. “You’re taking my cock so well, you wanna come baby? Say please and I’ll make sure that you do.”
You wasted no time in saying please, you even begged him, whined in front of him. The sound of your voice, the tone of your begging sending him over the edge. “Please, please Seonghwa I want to come so bad, please let me, pretty please.” His hand went down, his two fingers rubbing circles against your clit. He sucked on your left titty while relentlessly fucking you deep “gonna fill you up and you better not push me away, you’re gonna take it.” He thrusted into you a few more times and the both of you ended up coming at the same time. “Oh, fuck.” He pulls out slowly and collapses on the couch. After a moment of some deep breathing he slips his mask back on.
“That really took all the frustration out.”
“That’s good, and hey maybe later we can actually do it on the bed and try some different positions.” Seonghwa looks over at you and creeps a hand on your thigh
“Oh? Why wait when we can do it right now.”
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heartgold · 6 months
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Always loved how Umineko subverts the whole "creepy horror little girl" thing with Maria going kihihihi mode in Legend and almost baiting a less attentive reader into believing she's Evil or being possessed by Beatrice only for the text to immediately explain that her shift in behavior when infodumping about the topic her entire life and sense of self revolves around to the adults who belittled her and are now interested due to recent developments makes perfect sense if you think about it for 5 seconds. And then that behavior causing discord and panic as the murders keep happening which leads to her being yelled at and smacked around and literally thrown to the wolves while the text is basically gripping the reader's shoulders explaining how much witches mean to Maria and how this tragedy has an entirely different meaning to her. It begs the reader to avoid the kneejerk impulse of reading her unfavorably when she isn't behaving in ways that are agreeable or cute anymore, because she doesn't only deserve understanding and your sympathy when she's the innocent little girl being horribly abused by her mother. Which is why Maria haters really failed the most basic litmus test in Umineko, imagine being that wrong. lol
Anyway the point I wanted to make was that it's interesting to me how that was also done in Higurashi and Umineko basically expanded on it. The way Akasaka in Himatsubushi immediately projected this image of a lovely cute ideal child on Rika only to be taken aback and frightened when she suddenly started talking seriously about her premonitions of death and he couldn't reconcile this Rika with the Rika he projected her to be, suspecting that they couldn't possibly be the same little girl, she must've been possessed by Oyashiro-sama or not even human herself. And then that fear and the betrayal of his expectations stopping him from realizing that she was, in fact, a little girl asking him for help because she desperately wanted to escape certain death. She didn't only deserve his protection when she was doing her cutesy nipah☆ bit. It speaks a lot how Akasaka was a soon-to-be father, saw Rika being cute and immediately set that impression as an ideal for his daughter who wasn't even born yet, and Rika herself breaking that image meant shattering that ideal. Akasaka failing Rika is a direct reflection of the mentality of parents placing expectations on their children and then feeling betrayed and giving up when they turn out to be complex individuals who don't match the projections they made up. And this is similar to the surprise of Maria going from a cute and naive child to cackling and speaking at length about "scary" topics in a smug tone, and the way the text immediately explains that you should get over the whiplash and accept that Maria is a complex individual, there's nothing out of place about it if you try to understand her situation
Basically I think it's neat how both games use the idea of an archetype that honestly would fit right into the setting to basically shake up the expectations of the audience and the characters themselves and add to the fundamental point the series makes, that girls who behave in ways you can't personally comprehend (with a big emphasis on neurodivergent and traumatized girls) and/or that aren't palatable deserve unconditional understanding and compassion, that they shouldn't have to match your projection of who you want them to be or be helpless perfect victims for you to sympathize with them
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jensettermandu · 2 months
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-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-
-𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙡𝙡-
1.4
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𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.
wc; 16.8k+
a/n; dubcon aka drunk sex and coercion in the following chapter
[Present]
Jennie tried not to care, she tried to just go on and pretend that she didn't care because she knew that she shouldn't. What she had been living for was mindless sex, she had never looked for anything more than to wet her dick and be on with her life. She had done everything, said I love you, I need you, I care for you, I only want you, and no one ever needed to know whether or not it was true. There was no happiness in her life, not lasting happiness, the temporary was always there. It was all gone now though.
She felt useless, she felt like a loser and she blamed it all on the vixen who walked back into the room.
Y/n threw her phone onto the bed and got on it, Jennie was busy on her phone as Y/n crawled over to the older woman.
"Why do you look so angry?" She questioned as there was a small frown on Jennie's eyebrows and she didn't look up from the phone neither did she answer. The younger girl made it over to Jennie's lap and straddled her. Her eyes scanned the woman who was ignoring her. She had always found her attractive, she loved the sex Jennie provided, and she also liked those sweeter sides of her, but aside from that her personality got rotten at times. Y/n wasn't pointing fingers, she knew she was no better if she was cheating. 
It did make her feel better to know that Jennie was just as horrible. Y/n could feel herself fading right into Jennie and the person that she was. It just started to happen.
"Is it about condoms?"
"The marks?"
"Was I too big of a bitch for your fragile ego?"
"Not letting you take a picture?"
"Or because I said that I wasn't going to fuck you more tonight? Could change..."
Jennie sure was good at ignoring her and giving her the cold shoulder. It didn't hurt Y/n, it irritated her because she knew that Jennie then would come out of nowhere and expect everything.
She leaned in, her lips trailing her ear as she grounded down on Jennie's cock that was stirring to life the second the girl had come to her lap. Jennie was waiting for whatever dirty words she would start spewing, but it didn't turn out how she had hoped–
"You're jealous."
It was a conclusion drawn and it sounded bizarre in her mouth, but it was the only thing that seemed to get the older woman's attention as she looked up from her phone and Y/n pulled back.
"I'm jealous? Of who?" She scoffed and Y/n hummed, running her fingers to Jennie's clavicle that was covered by her shirt. She ran her fingers up, trailing her nails along the side of her neck until she reached her jaw.
"Asher."
Y/n winced, that harsh and familiar grip she had become a victim of multiple times now came to her wrist. It happened in bed, but also outside the bed with no intentions for it to be sexual. It didn't feel fair as Jennie was ten times stronger, Y/n was only 4 inches taller, half a head and always felt in need to submit to her when Jennie used all her advantages on her.
"Of what? His girlfriend is cheating on him, why would I be jealous of being cheated on? He doesn't even have a big enough dick for you to feel good. He can't even touch me with a ten-foot pole because I stand so fucking tall before him." She turned off her phone, her tone held a warning to it. Y/n had tested that tone times before, she ended up losing her voice because of how they started to shout at each other.
"By an inch, don't let it get to your head."
"I'm 6.3. Inch and three." She murmured.
Y/n rolled her eyes, Jennie's fingers digging into her waist where she held the girl. It seemed like her most prized thing was her 6.3-inch dick and Y/n never bothered to ask why she was so specific about it. The woman was a true loser. It made it even harder for Y/n to understand why she was staying. Maybe because they had become so alike that she barely saw a difference between them anymore. Neither of them was better than the other. 
"You know, he maybe can't touch you with a ten-foot pole, but that also applies to you when it comes to me because this is all you get and the second I am with him or talk to him you get like this. That's jealousy if I ever saw it."
"Wanna know something?" Jennie asked and licked her lips, looking up at the girl in her lap. Her hand let go of Y/n's waist and she reached up to the collar of her shirt, bunching it up and pulling her closer. The two of them could hear the threads snapping from the movement that stretched the material.
"What?" Y/n's tone wavered as she looked Jennie right in the eye, being a few inches away. Her breathing was now less shallow as the fears Jennie knew how to work on her were coming to light.
"I own you, I own you because your whole relationship depends on what I do to you."
Y/n's jaw clenched at those words, knowing that Jennie had all the proof she needed to ruin her relationship. She was stuck in the middle, in a place where she had to make a choice but couldn't even if she knew that the right thing was to come clean and break up with Asher and leave Jennie too. 
She hadn't been able to come up with a good enough excuse and she was letting it drag out just for that reason even if she knew that there never would be a good enough reason. He was too good for her. It was a conflict she never should have become part of and now she was stuck with Jennie blackmailing her.
No. Y/n never sent her anything with her face in it or with something that would be able to tell that it was her like any part of her bedroom aside from the plain white sheets.
It didn't mean that Jennie didn't do things without her consent.
She should have known better that the woman would at some point record her committing these sinful crimes, that she would catch Y/n in the City of Sins where she was drowning in her lust and selfishness.
Y/n couldn't do anything, not even take legal action because it would all just backfire.
This was Jennie Kim.
Y/n was too scared to break things off even if she didn't want to. All these reasons to leave, but she still couldn't do it, it seemed like she only needed one to stay and it wasn't even the video that forced her into staying. It was Jennie whenever she wasn't an asshole.
She glanced at the phone that was beside them on the bed, Jennie catching it and a smirk plastered itself on her lips at the fact that she did own the girl in her lap. Y/n couldn't leave her unless she wanted Asher to leave too. She would be left all alone if that happened. 
Y/n hated being left and alone.
Jennie clearly remembers the girl saying it herself. 
"I could delete that one video–completely and not leave a trace of it anywhere. That freedom would feel amazing, wouldn't it Y/n?"
In the end, Y/n always got the short end of the stick with Jennie. She was always the one mocked by the end of the night. She was stuck at a point in her life where life wasn't as enjoyable anymore. Jennie had made it hard and she only had herself to blame. It went away though, it went away with the pills and alcohol and she somehow still dragged herself through school.
Y/n's life was crumbling apart because she had cheated and continuously was. It was crumbling apart because she was fading into Jennie and her lifestyle. Slowly it ate her and at some point, there would be nothing left. She would be all that Jennie was, wouldn't she?
"For what?" It was always a bargain as their eyes gazed into each other. Jennie let go of the girl, her numb fingers coming back to life as the woman fixed her shirt. She leaned in and left a peck on her cheek and Y/n closed her eyes as she grabbed hold of Jennie's shoulders who started to kiss down her neck. Her lips were soft, their touch lingered and tingled her skin, feeling how her toxins seeped through her skin to nestle itself deep within Y/n. It had been going on for so long that without those toxins her body didn't feel right. It was so messed up, wasn't it? Despite not thinking about Jennie, all her body could do was go through withdrawals without Jennie around.
"I already have your dignity don't I? How about you break up with him?"
She quickly grabbed hold of Y/n's wrists again as the girl tried to pull away when Jennie's lips wrapped around the skin. "Fucking stop." It meant nothing. This time she sucked hard and the more Y/n tried to pull away the more trapped she got when Jennie moved forward and pinned her down on the bed with her arms pinned beside her head. The squirming did nothing as her chest heaved while Jennie trailed wet kisses all over the thin skin before she bit down at the juncture between her shoulder and neck.
"I didn't hear you say yes, star," Jennie mumbled and slowly pulled away, her eyes looking at the harsh two marks on the girl–at the juncture and pulse point.
"I'm not fucking breaking up with him, asshole." Y/n spat out and looked at Jennie with a scowl. The way her heart was beating felt uneven, it was the effect of Jennie, it was like drugs and Y/n wanted nothing more than to quit. The longer they stared each other in the eye the more she knew she grew attached and addicted though. She hated the way Jennie looked at her, the way she stared into her eyes, all Y/n wanted to do was push her away every time she did. Jennie wasn't allowed that, she had no place in Y/n's home to look at her that way.
Jennie was the one who started it. She was the only one doing it.
"He might enjoy the video of you sucking dick in the bathroom with your eyes all red from how fucked on drugs you were...His sweet little girl is far from the perfect angel she tries to be."
It was one stupid night where she had lost all sense of awareness. Now it felt like everything depended on it.
It wasn't like that—it was exactly like that, but it used to be different. 
She'd smoke weed now and then and took molly on certain occasions such as festivals. She had tried her fair share of everything, but she had never done it in a way that became routine. The same way Jennie became a routine. It was all destroying her life and she had lost the ladder after the fall.
She wasn't the girl Asher had fallen in love with, that person was buried and Y/n had no clue where. She would dig up her corpse if she knew where she died, but the vixen had no clue. It left her with this new star. The one that was far from who she used to be.
"Fuck me." Y/n finally spoke up and Jennie raised her eyebrows at the request, her dick throbbing in response. She just wanted to forget once again and she could when the brunette was pounding her. All those fears and worries went away because there was nothing to worry about when there was no one to judge. What was seemingly meaningless sex was what her life was becoming. "Fuck me however you like, but just do it." 
Jennie had managed to break her down, there was only so much the girl could take when she was in her chokehold. At some point, she would have to beg Jennie to let her breathe. She had almost broken her to the core and Y/n's put-up walls crumbled as it was hard to keep up with her life that was constantly pacing. 
"Where's the limit?"
"I don't have it aside from protection, more hickeys, or questionable bruising."
Jennie didn't like any of those limitations, but she took what she could.
[Summerfest]
"Y/n, stop," Asher said and pulled her away from him as the girl was trying to pull him down to reach his neck as her head reached to his shoulders. Her hands were at the hem of his pants and before she could reach any further down he grabbed hold of her hands. She frowned, confused about why he was pushing her away when she wanted to give him what they had fought about.
"What is it now?" She whined, being held back from touching him in any other way.
"You're high again, you can't be on E every day." He seriously spoke and Y/n rolled her eyes.
"I'm not on E, come on." She reasoned as she wasn't on ecstasy and he frowned.
"What then?"
"Doesn't matter, but I want you." It truly didn't matter as every day was something different, or she was mixing. Anything as long as it pulled her through her days.
He exhaled deeply and held her hands down when they tried to come back up to him. He didn't fail to notice the look of hurt on her face. It was enough to make him feel terrible, but he couldn't do it.
"You know that I'm not comfortable with doing anything like this in public, baby." The older guy didn't get the response he thought he would get from his girlfriend. The understanding that he always got because that was what she was. What he received was a roll of her eyes filled with annoyance as she pulled her hands out of his light grip and leaned back against the stall. Not taking notice of his hurt, her mind was racing with other things.
"Do you not love me anymore? Or am I not fucking hot enough or what the fuck is it, Ash?" Y/n threw the questions at him, growing insecure over her boyfriend not wanting what he had been complaining about. It didn't make sense if everyone else would throw themselves at her–she'd ignore them aside from one person–but he wouldn't. 
"It's not that–"
"Oh my God, then what is it? You are the one pushing me away. I don't understand this distance."
Y/n knew she was being immature, but only she could know that because only she knew that she was cheating and having these fights with her boyfriend. Jennie knew too, but she didn't know what they looked like. The distance between them no longer made any sense when he was the one making it and not her. She didn't want it unless she was the one who needed it. Only Y/n was supposed to put distance and then pull right back. She hated it when someone pushed her away. It made her scared.
Her life was falling to ruins.
She only had herself to thank for it.
"I think we're in a new place in our relationship, one we haven't been to before and it's not a good phase either...I think we should work it out instead of solving it with sex because that's just a temporary solution."
She didn't like those words at all. All in all, she hoped he would break up with her before he found out, but once those moments came her heart picked up and she got anxious. What he had just said was enough to make her anxious because if they stayed in this place in their relationship, he would most likely leave her. She wanted it, but she also didn't want it. How would she live alone? What if Jennie left too? Y/n was supposed to leave her and stay with Ash.
She hated when someone was about to leave or she thought they were going to, it made her self-destruct and do everything in her power to push them away before they could even try to leave.
"No, that's not—it's not like that at all. You are the one making it difficult when it could be easy. I am right here to solve it, Ash."
"You're not Y/n, you're high and you want sex. I already said no. You're not solving it, you're just going to fuel it further this way and I don't want that for us. Let's just talk it all out when we get back home."
"But–"
Y/n tried to argue about it, she didn't want to wait for him to possibly break up with her once they would be back home.
"Please, baby, I love you and only want this to work out the best for us."
It brought her no reassurance. What if he was lying to make her feel better for now to not ruin her week? Why couldn't he just grab the devil's horns and force it to work instead of trying to find a peaceful way in a warzone?
"Just enjoy the week and I am here if you need anything else."
Y/n walked past him, unlocking the stall before leaving through it. It pissed her off, he always let her walk away, he never did anything to make it work right away but gave it time. She didn't need that. She needed much more than that. What she needed was for someone to just take the lead because she lost it when she had it—someone to decide when she was grounded and when she wasn't. She wanted someone to control everything for her because she never had any control.
Her phone buzzed as she walked out of the bathroom, making her take it out from the black purse before she pushed the sunglasses over her eyes. Her heart was pounding, her body was hot and her energy was up tenfold.
It felt like the only people who checked on her, cared about her and asked where she was were her friends, not her boyfriend and then–
10:12 P.M. Where are you?
Jennie always seemed to care. Y/n knew it wasn't right, but at least she had Jennie's attention on her. She at least asked her where she was, with whom and what she was doing. She wasn't stupid, she knew what Jennie was–it was as if she was some possession to the woman. It was better than nothing. It was what the girl needed. It made her feel better for whatever reason even if she tried to make her change this morning deeming her clothes too revealing if she was going with a boyfriend who couldn't protect her. Maybe it was the thought that counted.
She had never needed that type of control, but she had grown used to it because of the woman and felt lost without it. It was hard to make these decisions on her own now. Jennie had her in such a hold that so much depended on her and Y/n had no clue when she gave her that control. She never did, Jennie just took it. 
10:13 P.M. Leaving
10:13 P.M. Could pick you up There's a private after-party if you want to come with me I'd like that
Y/n agreed this time as Jennie had offered for her to come with her multiple times, but she always declined because she was with her friends and Asher. Not this time. She wanted out before she got too deep into that melancholy she had been running away from for the past months. There was no way that Y/n would face it, she would run and run, those burdens would become bigger and at some point, a tsunami of her problems would crash over her. It would destroy everything more than it already was, but there was no way she would face anything willingly.
She was already living with the fact that she was a cheater and unable to leave someone who was no good for her.
"What the fuck is it now?" Was the first thing Jennie asked when the girl got into the car with so much attitude still lacing her that it knocked the air out of Jennie's lungs. Y/n huffed and removed her purse as she turned to Jennie, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. It was as if she only came to her because she needed someone to put her in her place and Jennie would gladly do that. If she didn't, she would explode.
"I'm sorry, did I get in the car in a way you didn't like?" That was mocking. Jennie knew that.
She sucked air through her teeth as the car started to move. "I don't need you to have an attitude with me when I've been nothing but nice."
"I'm not having an attitude with you. I am genuinely asking you what the problem would be if I just got into the car, Jen. Want me to get the fuck out and enter again?" Y/n snapped, it was routine with Jennie. It was what their relationship built on and it was what worked even if it wasn't working. Even if it wasn't a relationship. It at times felt almost as time-consuming and attention-grabbing as one. She wasn't Asher in the end, and maybe that was what made it so good. Whatever emotions Y/n already felt, Jennie always made them so much stronger, so anger came easily too.
Jennie inhaled deeply before exhaling through her nose.
"Come here." Her tone wavered as she breathed the words out, and she grabbed hold of the girl's thighs. The two were separated with a divider from her driver. The vixen didn't question anything when Jennie pulled her closer before making her lay down. Y/n raised her knees to have space for her long legs on the seat. 
"What did you take?" She asked with a hum, running her fingers along the girl's cheek who fell a hundred floors of attitude, landing right in Jennie's lap who was on her knees on the car's floor since it was spacious. Not only was it spacious, but the girl was worth going down on her knees for.
"Coke like 20 minutes ago," she mumbled, finding herself melting into the touch that she needed. The care and attention that Jennie provided her even if it was in the worst ways possible when she reached into her back pocket. At least she gave her what she needed. It was what Y/n needed, and what Jennie wanted. She hadn't grown addicted to drugs, she had grown addicted to Jennie who had pulled strings like a puppet master just to have control even if the puppet tried to be its own person at times. It was Jennie's poison she had grown addicted to because whenever she tried anything else there was a possibility of leaving, Jennie didn't let that happen.
"You'd almost think I'm religious." She leaned in and pecked Y/n's lips after showing the cross-coke necklace. "It's pure and better than anything else you've tried before, whether with me or someone else." She mumbled, giving her plump and glossy lips another peck before licking off the taste of vanilla that they left on her. Y/n hummed, the coke she had taken was already wearing off and there was Jennie always having everything she needed at the palm of her hand.
Jennie knew that.
Jennie knew what she was doing, she knew what to do to have Y/n dependent on her. How to have her addicted to her. To always come to her. The older woman knew exactly what she was doing when giving the younger girl things only she could give her, things she would come back for. Who else was there if not Jennie? She was enhancing the best feelings, mixing them and creating a euphoria she could only achieve with Jennie.
It wasn't just drugs.
All her problems with her boyfriends. The vixen found herself open in Jennie's arms each time after she would fuck her well enough. Jennie would coax her into letting it all out, into rambling about her problems, every little complaint about Asher, life, friends, or anything. She knew just how to get it out of Y/n. What she did with that was turn it all around and give her the things she lacked. She gave her everything he couldn't.
It would always be Jennie that way.
She watched as Jennie unscrewed it and put the top on the seat. The bitter taste wasn't good at all as it spread on the tip of her tongue, but it didn't matter as she poured a small amount on it. All that taste washed away the second the drugs started to pump through her veins and Jennie loved every moment of it. If it hadn't been for Y/n they would still hold the first place of her favourite things. Things, she owned Y/n. It was her possession after breaking her down into what she wanted her to be. 
Her doll. 
Her star.
Y/n moaned right into her mouth when Jennie leaned down, pushing her tongue into her mouth and sharing that bitter taste with Y/n who sucked on her tongue. It made Jennie get up more on her knees and push her tongue further into Y/n's warm and slick mouth. The vixen held onto the sides of her neck, nails gently scratching along her skin while her body fell into bliss. Their noses brushed and Jennie with a huff through it turned her head more and made sure Y/n got as much as possible as she let the girl swallow her tongue. The sucking on it was stirring her cock awake.
"Fuck–" Y/n breathed out when the older woman pulled away, making sure to lick up any of the leftover spit on Y/n's plump lips.
Jennie reached for the sunglasses on top of Y/n's head. Her eyes looked into Y/n's blown ones, their hearts slowly picking up, especially Y/n's who had a lower tolerance and the coke Jennie had shoved into her mouth was strong. It was so good, these good feelings were almost the only ones she could associate with Jennie as she always ended up too fucked up to remember the rest. Why would she dwell in the bad when the good was also there? There was no need for balance or in-between because the high highs and low lows sufficed.
"You're so fucking hot." Jennie groaned out, looking at the girl whose chest was heaving and whose eyes were searching for nothing. Her mouth went numb and the euphoria came right back before it had the chance to disappear. Jennie brought her to different types of highs. She loved them all. Only Jennie had been able to bring her to such highs and it made it that much harder to leave. What if she would never get to experience them again if she left Jennie?
Her eyes scanned over what the high girl was wearing as she had already seen her once today in these clothes. She could look at her all day. She usually did as she had followed all of Y/n's socials with her private account. Dressed in calf-high black boots, a black tube top that showed off most of her slim stomach, accentuating her tiny waits more and stopped just where her boobs started with a tight mini skirt of black denim that showed off her long legs. The most coverage was the racer jacket Jennie had forced on her not caring about what she would say to her friends if they asked where she got it from. She wouldn't let her walk out without it unless she was there too. However, looking at the vixen, Jennie was growing hard.
Y/n bit her lower lip as Jennie grabbed hold of the top and pulled it down under her chest, revealing the strapless push-up bra under it. Her chest was still heaving and she watched the powder that Jennie tapped out of the small necklace onto her cleavage. It stuck to her skin which was warm from the drugs and Jennie who wrapped around her like a blanket and kept her safe. These things had turned into her safe space.
"If it weren't for the party I would be fucking you right now." Y/n's hands tangled into Jennie's hair, biting down harder on her lower lip as Jennie snorted it off of her skin, hands firmly gripping onto her waist. It was twisting in Jennie who held back a moan as her cock strained, the stimulation always came to a peak with Y/n and drugs. Her fingers dug into Y/n's waist who pushed her chest more into her face with her grip tight on her hair. Thighs clenched at how it spread over her skin which had become more sensitive to touch because of the coke. It was all warm and comforting.
It made Y/n hum when the warm tongue ran over her skin, licking up any leftover of the powder.
She planted a few kisses over Y/n's chest, gently sucking to not leave marks, and nuzzling her face into the small but perfect breasts. Her hands caressed the skin that was scorching under her touch before she pulled away sniffling as it all travelled down her nose and to the back of her throat. 
It made it feel numb and swollen as she couldn't feel the roof of her mouth. If there was something that Jennie did love, it was drugs, sex, and alcohol together with parties. She wiped her nose, closing the coke cross and putting it back into her back pocket before getting back up and pulling up the light girl and helping her fix the top.
"How is it?" She asked while putting on the sunglasses on Y/n's nose, covering the blown pupils for now just in case while taking her own that were discarded on the seat beside her. She snivelled as she tapped at her nose, wiping it again and clearing her numb throat as her heart was pounding. "Great, just what I needed." It was as if a different person was clinging onto Jennie than the girl who had entered the car. The woman grabbed hold of the sneaky fingers tracing the outline of her cock she decided she would have to tuck in before they arrive.
The party had been held at a private club, restricted for anyone who wasn't invited or a plus one. It was filled with people of Jennie's status, certain celebrities, models, and a few people of Y/n's status of being an anonymous person with a private life. 
What Y/n knew was that whenever she went with Jennie to these things, first of all, the woman made sure she stayed with her, second, the alcohol never seemed to end, third, neither did the drugs, fourth, fourth were the corners, bathrooms and private places she would get dragged to by Jennie and the people she would run into there. 
It was almost sad, but now that she was dragged into it too, she understood why people chose to drown in this rather than swim against the current that life was.
What she could remember after swallowing tequila like water was that she got dragged into a bathroom. By then the vixen was already slurring words and stumbling over her own feet, being guided by Jennie who made sure to let her re-dose on the white powder every 30 to 60 minutes. It was like clockwork, one person left a bathroom and the next came in without any blockades.
The billionaire was in a state that wasn't sober, but she was fine with walking without walking into everything and everyone unless someone held her. The woman was so used to them that she knew how to work around these complications they caused. Their effect wasn't as strong and any higher doses would end with death. She was making sure to take care of Y/n the whole night and she did. She loved how the vixen loved what she loved and didn't hesitate to do these things. It was exactly who she wanted.
She could remember the woman holding Y/n'a nostril closed with the snuff spoon under her other one before taking what she was handed and sniffing it without a second thought. It hadn't been registering in her head either way as she could have been told to sniff poison and she would as her judgement was impaired together with everything else. However, she didn't want anything else than to get lost in the night and get fucked over to a different universe on drugs and alcohol that she had grown even more fond of.
That seemed to be the last straw for her body though as the last thing she could remember after that was how she in the same bathroom got pushed onto her knees with Jennie's zipper flying open. "You're my fucking star, Y/n, fuck, I can make you a star." Those were the last words she could pinpoint she heard somewhere along the way of having Jennie's cock stuffed down her throat while giving her a messy blowjob from the state she had been in.
She simply blacked out at that moment. It left her with a loss of memory from the night aside from the way there in the car, the first few shots, and then being dragged to the bathroom and shoved onto her knees.
That was all she could summarise when she opened her eyes and was in the bed of the hotel room. It was like a time skip because of the gap in her memories. Her world was still spinning, still somewhat under the influence of things only God had the answer to. Her mind dissociated and nothing felt real as she looked around the room with her head pounding and such thirst that it was close to drawing tears. Her body hurt and it usually did because being a messy and destructive drunk came with its cons.
She was naked and only glanced over her shoulder at Jennie who was holding her close, her hot breath fanning the back of her neck as the woman was just as naked. She could tell that they had sex, but she couldn't remember it as she hadn't been conscious, she had been, but not conscious enough to remember. She assumed that she had been asking for it.
She reached for her phone to see it was 3 P.M. and her world was still spinning. It left her extremely confused, having no clue when they got back, how, and what more happened.
"Are you alright?"
Jennie's voice was in a rasp as she mumbled into Y/n's neck, her hands caressing the girl's stomach gently as she snuggled closer to her. Y/n couldn't even care anymore, she couldn't even tell if she was real at the moment or not, let alone would she care about Jennie cuddling her. It was comforting at the moment because it made the anxiety of being dissociated go away. It let her hold on to the reality it felt like she was losing touch with.
"Just thirsty," Y/n mumbled, dropping the phone back onto the mattress where she had texts from her friends and boyfriend. None of them seemed to matter when she was with Jennie as she forgot them.
"I will get you everything in...five minutes."
Y/n hummed at that as she wouldn't have to move to do it herself because she was sure she would throw up if she did.
"When did we get back and did we have sex?"
Jennie lifted her head at that and peeked over Y/n's shoulder, the girl was just staring ahead without anything particular covering her face, she looked impassive. She looked numb and Jennie knew that it was the come down from all the drugs and booze she had consumed. She hadn't stopped her, more so given her more or encouraged her to take more. She enjoyed Y/n both sober and fucked up on drugs and alcohol. It was better with her than when Jennie did these things alone. She knew it was all catching up to Y/n though.
"You're not mad that we did? You were begging and whining for it, I couldn't deny you and it was 5 am when we got back." Jennie replied, worried the girl would get angry. Neither of them had been in a sober state, but Y/n had been way worse. Her palm continued to soothe Y/n's thin stomach, ready to tend to whatever needs she would have during a day that would be a hassle to pull through.
It was enough to let Y/n know that Jennie hadn't even been close to as lost in the substances as she ended up being.
"No, as long as I am not unconscious," Y/n replied as despite it all she trusted Jennie not to take that type of advantage of her. That she wouldn't get on her unless she was asking for it simply because she wouldn't be able to fight back. It wasn't like she would remember if she would be blackout drunk, or maybe she would. She didn't care anymore, she couldn't find the will to care at the moment. Blackout drunk was most likely the same as being unconscious. Jennie couldn't have known if she was or not.
Yn had lost the will to care a while ago, there was a reason why she took drugs and alcohol without caring whether she would overdose at some point or not. The will to live was fading much quicker with each passing day. An overdose sounded like a dream come true. She loved what she had been consumed in, but she also hated it and at times wanted her old life back which Y/n knew she couldn't have back.
She turned to her back and Jennie pushed herself up, propping her head up on her palm as she rested against her elbow. Her eyes looked over Y/n's face before meeting her eyes when she tilted her head up to look at her. Her eyes were glossy from what she had been consuming.
She only hoped that Jennie wouldn't want anything in return for what she had been offering to Y/n. It wasn't like she was leeching or using Jennie, the woman just offered it all to her and dragged her along. Most of the time Y/n didn't even have the time to think or say no. In the same way, she hadn't had another choice but to stay with Jennie and she wasn't spending any money on anything because the older woman insisted on every little expense.
The vixen assumed that giving her her body sufficed. It had always worked as currency.
"I will get you that water," Jennie said and leaned down, kissing her forehead before she moved to get out of the bed, much less hungover and on a less extreme sugar crush than Y/n was on. The woman was already used to it.
[Hours prior, during the night]
The only thing loud for Jennie was her heart as it would always beat so hard, it felt like with each beat it would slowly rip out of her chest. It still felt warm, it squeezed and all that blood ran warm in her body, leaving it clammy, but it was like a fuzzy comfort blanket. She wouldn’t trade these feelings for the world, she wouldn’t give up drugs for the world. They were her world and unless something managed to replace them they would stay forever.
The music outside the restroom was making the door vibrate. These parties could end careers, but she loved showing up to every single one of them. She used to love them even more when she would be fucking girl after girl at them. Now the only girl she would love until she would have her release was in the restroom with her. She wasn’t leaving after either, but that didn’t mean that she loved her. Y/n wasn’t drugs or alcohol, but she still somehow worked on Jennie quite similarly as Jennie had grown addicted to her.
Just like when Jennie wouldn’t be able to take drugs or alcohol for a couple of hours and would think about them until she got them, she would think only about Y/n when she no longer was there.
Aside from that Jennie’s cock had been straining against her pants extra badly now after pulling Y/n to the bathroom. There was something so mesmerising about seeing a girl who used to be everything good, be everything bad just because of Jennie. To see something she made. This was her work of art. She went from moderately corrupted when they first met to severely corrupted and the billionaire loved every second of it.
That was why she couldn’t help herself but shove Y/n down onto her knees in the bathroom they were in.
“Jen–”
“No, no, stay down, Y/n…” She held Y/n down by her head, the girl looking up at her through her lashes with her lower lip jutting out. The marble was cold under her knees and her world was spinning. It was making Jennie that much more eager when Y/n was looking up at her while on her knees. There was something so vulnerable in her when she was on her knees which left the woman in control. 
She let go of her head and her hands started to fumble with her pant buttons and zipper. It tugged the corners of her lips up when Y/n’s fingers hooked at the hem of her pants and she tugged them down just enough. “Show how much you love my cock, doll, show me how much you appreciate it.” Jennie encouraged, wanting the girl to worship her and her cock as she threaded her fingers through Y/n’s hair while she leaned against the counter behind her for balance.
Her chest heaved as Y/n leaned in, her plump lips gently pressing themselves along the outline of her cock. The precum smeared through the white fabric and Jennie hummed, sucking in her bottom lip as Y/n kissed her cock through the material. The white fabric was getting stained by Y/n’s lip gloss, leaving prints of her pinkish lips along them. Her dick was hurting from how much she wanted to be inside her mouth that teased through the boxers.
However, Y/n’s kisses stopped and the girl groaned with her eyes closed and forehead resting against Jennie’s thigh. It made the woman suck air through her teeth and she grabbed hold of Y/n’s hair, bunching it up and pulling her back to see the frown on her face.
“Suck it or I will find someone else to do it and leave you behind for someone else to do whatever they want.” Y/n was in no state to deny her, especially not when she barely knew people at this place and anything could happen to her when she could barely tell left from right. With not much choice left she tried to gather herself and push everything else aside to please Jennie who in the end has been taking care of her even if that had left Y/n barely sitting up.
Jennie pushed her boxer briefs down, taking out her scalding cock while still holding onto Y/n because the girl kept losing balance. Her dick was hard, ready to explode as she had been waiting to at least get it sucked since they were in the car. She stroked down, shivering at her touch and she held it at the base. “Show me your tongue, baby.” She encouraged, biting her lower lip as she used her length and tapped it against the girl’s cheek a few times. It was sending waves of pleasure through her body when she slapped it against her cheek, leaving her precum on it before she moved down further to Y/n’s lips.
Her lips parted when Y/n opened her warm mouth, sticking her slick tongue out. She held onto Jennie’s thigh for balance, her other hand coming up to the woman’s cock as she replaced Jennie’s hand with her own. With a shaky breath, Jennie tightened her grip on Y/n’s hair, her other hand gripped onto the edge of the counter as she swallowed down her numb throat. The girl’s plump lips wrapped around her tip, teasing her slit with her tongue, gathering her precum and swirling around her. It continued as she sucked on the swollen and sensitive tip that was twitching each time she ran her tongue over her slit.
Her throbbing cock got engulfed further into Y/n’s mouth, a moan falling from Jennie’s lips who let her head fall back. It was making her dizzy with the alcohol and drugs, the pleasure being tenfold and better than anything else she’s ever had because Y/n worked her cock so well. She wished she could have her dick shoved in her mouth for hours as the messy slurping and moans from Y/n filled the echoing bathroom. If only Jennie had the whole night, which she did, but not in this bathroom.
“God, I have to lend your mouth, Y/n and you have to take it because we don’t have time.” Jennie sighed and looked down in a haze as her vision was blurring from the way Y/n suckled on her tip. The vixen’s cheek hollowed around her length, and Jennie’s stomach flexed at the feeling and sight. Though Y/n tried to protest as lending her mouth to Jennie meant a sore throat, the woman was much quicker as she already had hold of the girl’s hair.
“So good, your mouth is so good, doll face.” Jennie praised, slowly moving her hips and inching her cock further inside the girl’s mouth who tried her best to breathe. It was quite literally almost impossible as her nose was stuffy from the coke and now she had a cock slowly being shoved down her throat, the pace only picking up. Her eyes were glued to Y/n who was barely keeping hers open, tears spilling down the sides and her spit smearing down her chin. All she did was provide her mouth to the woman, pressing her tongue to the underside of the cock that was hard and throbbing in her mouth, tracing the pulsating vein while giving Jennie the suction she required.
It was followed by the sound of gagging when her dick at last hit the back of her throat, Y/n having no way of opening her throat for her because of how she was fucking her mouth. Her hands gripped Jennie’s thighs for support to not lose her wavering balance and her eyes closed at the spinning. The billionaire hissed, nails dug into her thighs and she pulled her cock out of Y/n’s mouth, the only thing connecting them was the saliva from her red and swollen tip and the girl’s wet lips.
“I need to breathe asshole.” Y/n rasped, eyes on the floor as it was moving under her, the alcohol making it hard to even sit.
“You got to breathe, now warm it again,” Jennie ushered, slapping her wet cock against Y/n’s cheek again, too eager to wait for the girl. She was close and wanted to fuck it right down her throat. It made her bite back a smile when Y/n took her back into her mouth, looking up at her for a split second with her red eyes and blinking them. It was enough to let Jennie know that she could use her however she liked to.
Her hips worked, the girl holding onto her thigh while the other gripped Jennie’s ass which flexed with each thrust. The vixen moaned, opening her throat just for Jennie who almost tumbled at the feeling of her cock being buried in the confines of the tight throat when Y/n loosened it for her. Her hand just then stumbled upon her phone on the counter and seeing that Y/n was too occupied with sucking her dick and being wasted she grabbed it without a second thought.
“God, you’re never leaving, not gonna let you when your mouth works me so well.” She mumbled under her breath, Jennie’s moans breathy and needy for release. “I own you.” Her hand pushed back Y/n’s hair, pulling it away from her face and capturing the girl taking her cock into her mouth like she was made for it, as this wasn’t the old Y/n anymore. Her eyes were red and filled with tears, the only thing keeping her makeup in place was how it was waterproof. The dark-haired girl quickly bobbed her head, slowing down before picking up, and then taking Jennie back into her throat all while her spit was spilling. The motions were making Jennie's thighs tremble.
Jennie couldn’t pinpoint if she ever had seen the girl so fucked up, sucking dick in a bathroom while flying above clouds. She couldn’t even think that far as her mind was going blank from Y/n’s mouth.
“You’re my fucking star, Y/n.”
Her hips stuttered, her member throbbing on Y/n’s tongue who did her best to take Jennie in her mouth. Only stopping for a few seconds every time she reached her pelvis, nose tickling Jennie’s skin when she deep-throated her over and over. Her dick pulsating, her tip twitching when she squeezed it with her throat, having her in a chokehold before she sucked right back to her tip with hollowing cheeks. The motion was repeated until Jennie’s legs would go numb.
The woman knew that her cock was the only one the girl could properly deep throat as she reached her throat, unlike her waste of a boyfriend.
“Fuck, I can make you a star…”
Her lips parted, gasps falling from her mouth as her breathing got heavier. Jennie’s body convulsed into Y/n, her hips pushing themselves as far as they could and the moan was a breathless whimper from how it stole her voice, her body shaking. It filled her vision with white dots and she by some miracle didn’t fall over as her balls tightened, Y/n was able to feel Jennie’s cock grow harder on her tongue–giving her no time to pull away–before cum started to shoot into her mouth. The woman’s hips bucked one last time, emptying every little drop of salty cum into Y/n’s mouth, her shirt sticking to her back from how hot it all got her from the sex to the drugs and everything else in between.
Without thought Jennie pushed the girl away from her and leaned back against the counter, making sure to put her phone away before the coughing girl could question her. Whether or not Y/n was aware wasn’t Jennie’s problem, the woman holding on to not fall over. It made the girl fall back against her palms at the harsh treatment as she felt used for Jennie's pleasure She leaned forward again at what Jennie had done in her mouth, the brunette knowing well what Y/n liked and disliked.
“What’re you doing?” It somehow pissed her off to see the girl spit it all out, her cum splattering with spit against the black marble of the floor. Her hands worked on stuffing her cock back into her boxers and zipping up her pants. It always just stirred something in her when she was under the influence and things weren’t going the way she wanted them to be. Y/n always knew how to stir her on and do whatever she pleased and not what Jennie pleased.
“Do you hear me?” Jennie’s voice was rigid as she was serious and crouched down right in front of Y/n. The girl snivelled and looked up at Jennie with eyes full of tears that had yet to dry and she cupped Y/n’s face with her one hand. “I’ve told you before that when you come to me, you listen to me, Y/n.” She mumbled, her thumb running over Y/n’s lips and gathering whatever was left on them, knowing very well that the girl hated the taste. The words had to be enough to remind the vixen of the consequences and how Jennie could react when she was challenged. 
“I don’t like it, Jen.” Y/n’s voice was a rasp, her head heavy in Jennie’s palm as she held onto her forearm to steady herself and not fall over. The woman knew what the girl was feeling, she had felt it all before when she had just started, and she knew how lost Y/n felt. She knew that if she asked her where she was right now she wouldn’t be able to provide a concrete answer. Jennie was at least there to take care of her, Jennie never had anyone to take care of her. In Jennie’s opinion, Y/n was lucky, but ungrateful by doing this when the woman was there to take care of her when no one else would. She could at least swallow.
“Learn to like it.” She pushed her thumb between the girl’s lips, fingers holding her jaw to make sure she would stay. The vixen winced yet took her thumb into her mouth, cleaning whatever cum was on it despite not being able to stand the taste. “So pretty,” Jennie mumbled and pulled her thumb out of Y/n’s mouth and she swallowed, knowing that it would anger her otherwise. This whole ordeal had been a problem for a while and finally, Jennie was getting Y/n to listen and do as she said. Her lips twitched into a smile at how ruined Y/n was, how she broke her, and now she got to hold her.
“Let’s go.” Jennie huffed and got up on her feet, grabbing hold of Y/n’s hands and with ease pulling her up on her feet. The girl stumbled into Jennie, her body weight being held up by the woman who held her arms wrapped around Y/n’s waist. She let them go down further, grabbing hold of her ass under the skirt with her lips finding Y/n’s neck. Jennie took in the girl’s scent before sucking on the skin that was soft and smooth, squeezing her ass while pulling away. “We have to get back out.” She grumbled and helped Y/n stand on both feet, making sure to fix her hair and wipe away the mess, leaving a peck on her lips to then drag her back out. her toy, her doll.
They left the bathroom perfectly fine, going right back out to the party, occasionally finding the way right back to the restroom for more empty lines of white which they didn't have to know how to read to understand. Despite the blinding lights, the doors to the city were closed and whatever they wanted to do they were trapped right there together which only meant bad news if one pissed off the other. And so it did start because it always did with them both.
It was easy to get lost in everything as things got blinding, Jennie’s eyes felt sensitive and dry the longer she stayed on the couch. It was all a blur and she had spent hours she assumed just on the couch with people surrounding her. It was hard to pinpoint if time went by or not because it felt like it was flying by while she was stuck in the same place. The woman had been so zoned out and busy with someone else that she never realised where Y/n was.
Enough made her forget about everything except for what was right in front of her.
There was a reason why she kept Y/n by her side, especially if she brought her to a party.
Y/n outdid the models.
Y/n dressed in a way that made Jennie’s dick throb and she didn’t mind her dressing that way, but only if she was there to make sure no one else was trying to touch what she wanted to possess.
The vixen’s features, her allure, it was all sex, or maybe that was all Jennie could think. What did that change when they were at a private afterparty where already questionable enough things were happening?
“Listen–” Jennie started, grabbing hold of her manager and pulling the younger one down to speak in her ear. There was a slight wobble in Jennie as things were like a rollercoaster and she had nothing to secure her. It was just a matter of time before she would get completely off the rails. A matter of time until a loop would come and she would get sent flying. “Where is she?” She asked, bunching the material in her fist as she pulled on the woman’s shirt because there was a wave of anger bubbling inside her, crashing against her insides to escape. Things weren’t how she wanted them. She wanted Y/n right beside her, sitting and not running off the leash unless Jennie said so.
The lack of control was like small ants that crawled over her body and she couldn’t shake them off.
“The back I think?” Jennie shoved her away with a huff, putting her hands inside her pockets to not shove anyone else as she walked through what felt like endless bodies that blurred in her peripheral vision. It felt like it was taking too long, the club not coming to an end until it did and she reached the back of it. 
She opened the door to the stairwell that led downstairs of the club and also to the back entrance of it. It was lit by neon purple, making her eyes squint for a second at how bright it was compared to where she had been just now. The powdery scent of the fogger fluid that came from the smoke machines was faint as the stairwell wasn't dim with the smoke either, the scent of aftershave was much stronger when a man passed by her.
All the giggles, talking, and whatnot were like a trigger in her head as she knew that among these people scattered along the stairs was Y/n. Jennie walked down the wide stairs, getting further down. It wasn’t long until her eyes fell on Y/n.
The vixen was sitting on the stairs with a guy towering right over her with a smile on his lips as he stood a few steps below to match her height. Both hands held him up by the railing on each side and the last straw was when he let go with one hand and cupped her face. The vixen tilted her head back without hesitation to make it easier for him to reach down to her when he started to lean down.
Was Y/n the same person that Jennie was? It wasn’t like that was the point when she decided to break her down into parts and put them back together but leaving the ones she didn't want behind. Of course, that ended with an imperfect doll because parts were missing, but those imperfections were what made her perfect in Jennie's eyes-
However, when she did that the point was to make a doll for Jennie to play with, to own, her doll, not one that would learn from her and act just like her. Y/n was supposed to be with her, only see her and not forget everything else the second someone else said hello and she was wasted enough. She wasn’t supposed to forget Jennie when someone else walked up to her. She wasn't supposed to be like a stray, that was only for Jennie.  
Jennie was supposed to be the one seeing other women, especially when Y/n wasn’t with her. It was all somehow turned around because Jennie could barely get hard unless she was blackout drunk and unable to think because then she wasn’t even able to remember her name let alone Y/n’s. Yet the roles were reversed and Jennie was suffering because of it. 
If it hadn’t been for the railing Jennie would be tumbling down the stairs, but her feet quickly let her get to them and she grabbed hold of his shirt. Her only advantage was her money in this case, aside from the fact that she got to be taller when standing further up the stairs. Advantage money, she had guards following after her that he didn’t have.
“What’re you trying to do? Forcing yourself on a wasted girl?” Jennie knew what type of bullshit she was spewing. If she hadn’t been angry and she and Y/n would be away from everyone else she would be ramming her cock inside her. All she needed was a reason for him to leave her. All she needed was for something to validate her anger and start pouncing the guy if he gave her the chance by furthering her anger. She usually went for someone weaker to get her anger out without taking any damage herself. 
“Get the fuck off of me.” He tried to push her away, but Jennie shoved him first, the guy stumbling into the wall and grabbing hold of the railing to not fall down the stairs.
“Don’t fucking touch her again, moron–I will get you kicked out and fucking blacklisted from every single club you see.” She bellowed, two men coming down right behind her and the guy tried to argue when they grabbed him to pull him away before Jennie would get hurt. Her fists clenched and she looked at the girl she stood two steps below. Y/n groaned, her face resting in her palms and Jennie’s nose twitched in anger.
“We’re leaving,” Jennie said and Y/n heaved a sigh, looking up from her hands at the ordr. Her impassive face turned into one that smiled at Jennie as she scoffed a chuckle.
“What’s your actual problem?” Y/n questioned with her tone a rasp, eyes trying to focus on Jennie's face. 
The woman tried to reach for Y/n’s hand, grabbing her wrist that the girl slid right out of her hold before she could tighten in. That pain was always numbing, it bruised her, and the previous bruise had yet to disappear. Jennie’s eyes squinted in anger and she grabbed the railing before leaning closer to Y/n. The girl flinched, this time the grip didn’t come to her wrist, but she grabbed her by her hair, forcing Y/n to look her in the eye, making sure she would do so when her forehead pressed against the vixen's forehead hard enough to make her head throb.
“I said, we’re leaving.” She could hear the tremble in the breath Y/n let out. Jennie wasn’t hurting her, no, she was just making sure that Y/n knew where her place was and that she stayed where she was meant to be. There was no reason for her to reach further than Jennie allowed. What if Y/n would reach further and leave? Her hand came up to Jennie’s wrist who only tightened her grip on the girl’s hair. Y/n was supposed to stay below Jennie who would only give her bits and pieces of freedom to have the girl depending on her unless she wanted to live a cold and empty life.
Those were emotions in Y/n’s glazed eyes, emotions Jennie didn’t care about when hers were winning. Jennie wasn't one to stop because someone was crying or dying. “Get up. It will end worse otherwise.” Her tone wavered, yet it was harsh enough to cut through the skin. It was as if she was spewing shards of glass, cutting right through Y/n’s flawless skin and leaving her to bleed. The woman did everything to scar Y/n's skin because she always left her mark, she always made sure she would be remembered.
Jennie could tell how lost Y/n was, it gave Jennie a free pass. How much would Y/n remember? Jennie could feel that she was the one supporting Y/n from how she was barely sitting up, her weight leaned against Jennie. She was drunk, and high which Jennie was too, but Y/n was a lightweight when it came to tolerance. It was like a free pass to murder someone, but this time to have Y/n at her mercy.
“Let go of me, Jennie.” Yet Y/n wasn’t as tameable as Jennie wanted her to be. She was her doll, but it was a doll that wanted to come to life and be her own person. Y/n fought back, Y/n liked to dig her own grave, Y/n liked the pain, she loved getting hurt, and she was in love with the pain. Jennie gave it all to her. Jennie would continue to feed her the pain she loved so much because Y/n always ran back for more. She had the girl running back to her.
“Get the fuck up, Y/n. We’re fucking leaving or I will fucking throw you down these stairs and drag you to the car.” Jennie had never figured out where that anger came from. Where it got brewed. It was like it tingled through her body, if she didn’t let out these words, she would take it out physically. That was where Y/n was different for her because Jennie didn’t hurt her more than this. That made Jennie a good person in her mind, she was good to Y/n in her opinion. She was good if she went out of her way to not hurt her more physically like she did with everyone else who was much weaker. It always made her feel more powerful.
That anger was always so overwhelming and it was just there.
There was a tremble in Y/n’s jaw, Jennie caught it together with how deeply she inhaled the thick air of the club. Everyone minded their business, walking up and down the stairs, passing them, and leaving them in their world. The one the vixen had been invited to and willingly stepped inside for the gates to get locked behind her. The one she couldn't escape even if she wanted to. It had everything she needed. It had Jennie, it was free of shame, judgement, and pain that was different from the one Jennie caused.
What else was Y/n supposed to do?
She got out of Jennie’s grip because the woman let go of her otherwise she would be stuck. Jennie grabbed her forearm and pulled her up on her feet. There would always be that one person who would be stronger mentally, and physically, and Jennie would always take advantage of that position in her relationship with Y/n who had let her walls down and showed her weaknesses because she trusted Jennie. 
She trusted her.
They made it out of the club, the music was muffled just like their ears. The air cooled down their warm bodies and Jennie was looking for rational reactions. Y/n’s arm slipped right out of her hold once again. A grip that Jennie did not like to lose. She needed it to know she had control.
“Stop fucking playing around Y/n!” Jennie’s voice boomed through the empty back of the club that was only for private guests to come and leave. She turned right around and looked at the girl. The car already waited on them, but neither of them was heading inside until they blew off everything first. At least blow off some of it.
“Stop being on my fucking ass then. Why would you fucking act like that?”
Jennie had so many reasons to do that. If Y/n was acting broken in a way that she didn’t like she would fix her to her desires. Jennie would throw her against the wall, and destroy her, knowing Y/n would lay and wait for her, and Jennie would always go back to fix her after, only to throw her against the wall again, leaving Y/n dependent on being fixed by the only person who knew how to fix her. The person who destroyed her was the one who fixed her. That was why it was worth staying despite the low lows of lying on a cold floor, drowning in tears, but they got wiped away after.
“Why? You come here with me and do what? Why the fuck were you with him!?” Jennie’s voice was a rasp as she raised it even more, coming right back to Y/n as they stood right in front of each other. Her chest was heaving, anger coursing through her veins with everything else she had consumed tonight. These things all together were the worst combination that brought out worse in her than Y/n managed. Y/n only stirred it on and made it worse, making something ugly even uglier.
“I’m going to do what I fucking please to do. What does it matter to you when you are sitting and talking to a bunch of girls either way? They could keep you company, so what do you need me for?” 
It was fine for Jennie to do though, not Y/n. The woman scowled at the comparison as she was supposed to be allowed to do whatever she wanted. Jennie had always done what she pleased. She had money and could get away with so much, being with a bunch of women was the least problematic thing that she enjoyed. It was free too because they always came to her. Jennie wanted everything without needing to give anything back.
“Were you going to cheat on your boyfriend?”
It didn’t matter though, it was better to twist it and bring all the shame on Y/n who was cheating on her boyfriend. Jennie could just redirect all the fire and not have her mistakes pointed out when she could point out Y/n’s beautiful flaws instead. There was no shame though because neither of them cared about the actual boyfriend, but only each other.
She couldn’t help but love those flaws because they were so perfect even if they fueled a fire in her. A fire, it fueled a fire, and it kept Jennie warm so what did it matter if they fought? At least they kept each other warm in a fire that was out of control and destroying everyone on the way. They somehow found beauty in the ugly and flawed. All that burned land only made space for them to start building their own world and make it, however, they wanted it to look, building it off of each other's flaws, sticking it all together even if it didn't go together. It was kintsugi with broken pieces that they made beautiful.
The words seemed to flip something in Y/n.
“I am already cheating on him you crazy fucking bitch!” The girl’s hands came up to her head in disbelief at what Jennie was saying before she dropped them. It was making her jittery too, unable to just stand there and look at Jennie. It was hard to look at Jennie, the woman was aware of it as her flaws were so imperfect it made the eyes hurt, but Y/n at least took off her glasses just for her. She took them off and she ignored all of those flaws because she decided to not see them. What was a flaw if Y/n couldn't see it because she bluntly decided to ignore it?
“Don’t fucking yell at me like that.” Jennie tried to drown out Y/n’s voice, gripping the slim girl's jacket to turn her right back to her when Y/n tried to turn and walk off the anger. The older one looked at the girl who had tears in her eyes from frustration, unable to take out her anger which resulted in tears as she couldn’t result in anger like Jennie would do. Y/n was too scared, Jennie was aware, she was too scared to go that far and always ended up crying in their toxin-filled dynamic. The girl didn't hold back on her tears, she didn't try to hold them back to look strong because she knew that there was no point in trying to hide the truth from someone who already knew it.
“What’re you going to do about it, Jennie? Throw me down what fucking stairs you cunt?” Y/n spat out, her voice thick from the lump in her throat that was getting coated in tears, trying to dig its way out of her throat. She was barely registering what was around her. Her legs were so unstable she was stumbling while standing still, her only support was Jennie, her only support in more ways than one. It was her only safety net.
She couldn’t even remember who exactly it was Jennie was talking about as the most she could remember was what happened five minutes ago and that was Jennie saying she would push her down the stairs. Y/n was just fighting because Jennie was fighting, and she would go on even if she forgot the point because she wasn’t just going to cave.
The two of them could go on for days.
They could butt heads for days even if neither would remember the point.
“Shut the fuck up. It’s not my fault you act like a fucking whore and would fuck just anyone now.” Jennie growled, her fist twisting the material of her jacket that Y/n had on, fists pressing into Y/n’s chest who grabbed hold of her forearms to not lose balance. Her tears only being a mere reflection of her emotions, not being able to tell the actual pain behind them. The thought was irking Jennie further on, she was adding fuel to her own fire now. Those small threads were snapping quicker and quicker and soon enough nothing would hold her back from hurting the girl unless she would somehow talk herself into not doing it.
“You’re acting as if you don’t get your dick sucked by a different girl every day.” Y/n let out in disbelief, her tears falling heavily from her eyes, salty on her flawless skin. They were harsh though, they would stain and hurt her, and they were like cyanide every time Jennie caused them. They only hurt when they were caused by the woman who was able to make her feel so much. 
“That’s fucking different!” She trashed the jacket, yanking Y/n into herself whose nails were digging into the skin of Jennie’s forearms. The pain that was caused was easing the pain she wanted to cause. Her breathing fell ragged and her eyes wide with anger, it was spasming her muscles. It was like a twitch and she would end up doing something she didn’t want to.
“How?” Y/n pressed through the sob as she was breaking into pieces, Jennie continuously throwing her into the wall without giving her a break. Without stopping for a second to let her breathe, to maybe fix something before it would become unfixable.
“Because I don’t want you to see anyone else. Asher is enough even if you should fucking leave him. If you cheat on him, you cheat with me, no one else, no one else touches you except me and me only. I will fucking kill whoever else you let inside you and then fucking kill you too. You hear me!?” She screamed right in her face after pulling her into herself even more. It unclogged Y/n’s eardrums as she could feel Jennie shove her knuckles into her clavicles. Jennie threw out the words from anger as they were the first thing on her mind. Her words vibrated through Y/n's body, burying themselves deep inside her marrow, each little word touching her soul, bruising it.  
Now Jennie couldn’t recognize herself anymore because she never cared. It twisted her stomach in the worst way possible. Those words were not Jennie, not the ones about caring if anyone else touched Y/n. None of this should have bothered her to begin with but it did. It did so badly that she was fighting about something she had never fought about before. These were things she was so unfamiliar with that it scared her and she couldn't predict how she would act the further she stepped into that unfamiliar territory. 
Y/n shoved Jennie away who stumbled, her legs barely keeping her up and she caught herself on the new model of the black Rover that waited on them. The vixen flinched at the sound when Jennie’s fist collided with the door's body, it buckled and she hit it right again after. It let her take out her anger as she gritted her teeth and her fist was going numb when she hit it again. Taking out the anger she felt towards herself for caring when she didn’t want to care. Jennie never did because she was always numb, she was always busy, and she was never in the right state to even consider caring about someone else.
It scared Y/n.
It scared Jennie even more.
It scared Y/n to think that this was the same person she would have to get into the car with. The damage she did to the car. What said that she couldn’t do the same damage to her if she overstepped it? Maybe this was all that Jennie needed to do to have Y/n succumb and obey her.
Jennie yanked the door open with her throbbing hand, not waiting a single second as her hand was trembling and she ran her other hand through her hair. It was making her whole body shake that was clammy, her heart unstable, beating in her head, up her throat, trying to just escape her body and leave the abuse she caused herself and everyone else. It tried to escape from how terrified she was of whatever this was. These things she never cared about, Y/n was ruining her and no one had ever been able to ruin Jennie.
“Get the fuck inside, we’re getting your shit and you can go to your fucking boyfriend. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I will fucking give you what you want and fucking leave you alone.”
Y/n had gotten inside the car, scared not to get in and Jennie had slammed the door closed.
Jennie knew what she was doing.
Whatever control Y/n thought Jennie had lost, she had it all and Y/n would be on her leash as long as she wanted her to be.
The younger girl had stayed silent the whole ride, the fight long forgotten and the only words left she could remember and think about were that Jennie was going to leave her. It was eating at her as every time she glanced at the woman she had looked unbothered and hadn’t spared a single glance towards Y/n.
These things always made the vixen crumble.
She would be left all alone, she would be abandoned.
What if Asher left too? The man was leaving her, she was sure of it after the fight they had. Now Jennie was leaving her too. It was causing unbearable anxiety to Y/n.
Y/n froze.
She tried to work it out in her head when she watched Jennie shove her things into her bag.
Things that always worked;
Her body. 
“Jennie, please.” She pleaded, on the verge of new tears because she would get thrown out. She would be all alone and abandoned without anyone there to hold her or care for her.
The woman stopped and dropped the bag beside her feet while biting her lower lip. Her back turned to Y/n and she could count the seconds. She knew exactly what she was doing because Jennie knew that Y/n would be the one to cave and get on her knees to apologise first if it meant that Jennie would stay.
Five seconds and Y/n was on the older woman.
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, hand running down to grab hold of Jennie's hand who wouldn’t give in just yet as she wanted to see Y/n break down even more. It was the least the vixen could do after aggravating Jennie more than needed when she had already been pissed. She turned and looked at Y/n who frowned when she wasn’t allowed to touch Jennie, her eyes glossy and fragile. Jennie could see the fears in them because Y/n didn't try to mask them around Jennie, not masking them around the woman who used them all against her. All because her walls had crumbled so easily and she had laid her trust on Jennie.
“What am I going to do with a sorry?” Jennie questioned and undid her pants, walking over to the bed and Y/n followed right after her. Too scared not to follow in case Jennie would truly leave her behind. “I don’t care about your sorry even if you were to be crying on the floor.” She continued, discarding her bottoms on the floor before pulling the shirt over her head and getting into bed. With that, she dismissed Y/n as she turned off the lamp.
“You can see yourself out.”
Y/n had never been treated the way Jennie treated her. She had never been thrown out, denied, rejected, and had her ego crushed this way. This was Y/n, she always got everything she wanted simply because she was pretty. It wasn't only this way, she in general had never been through the treatment Jennie had been giving her ever since she got involved with her. Whatever sex it was, it had turned into a game where they were constantly being dealt bad cards, playing it blindly, with all odds against them from the very start. Yet neither ever folded but kept betting more and more, until it would leave them both with nothing or everything, if not leave one with nothing and the other with everything.
Only time could tell how the game would end.
As if Jennie didn’t know it. She was part of the people who gave in because of the girl’s sex appeal. She figured that if she stomped on it and broke it, the girl would do anything that would favour Jennie in this game of cards and the woman would give in because it would benefit her. That it would give her an upper hand if Y/n showed her a card or two so she would know what to play next.
“Please, I will listen to you, anything, Jen–” Cold hands snuck upon Jennie’s bare body from behind. Y/n’s palms were smooth against her bare stomach, running down to the hem of her lipstick-stained boxers. “I’m sorry’ listen to you like you’re my daddy, promise.” It flipped Jennie’s stomach when the hand pushed into her boxers, Y/n’s lips brushing her ear as her hand wrapped around her hardening cock. The words only stirred Jennie on and on, and maybe it wasn’t as easy to resist Y/n’s sex appeal as she thought it would be.
God, they both somehow had each other wrapped around each other’s pinkies. Trying to play against each other in a game where they were a team. 
“I want you, everything you have to give, I want it. I will be a good girl, you can be my daddy.” Y/n knew just what to give Jennie despite being drunk, to show her where exactly the dynamic was. That Jennie would always have the upper hand and Y/n would always try to rebel because she had always been that way, but she knew how to be good when needed even if it caused big fights before she became that obedient girl that Jennie wanted her to be. 
“I will give you everything.” Jennie groaned out, her cock stiff in Y/n’s hold who was still stroking her, squeezing at her tip, letting the precum run down and smear over her member. The vixen hummed, her lips staining Jennie’s skin with her lip gloss as she kissed along the woman’s shoulder. It made Jennie’s hips buck into her hand, knowing she wouldn’t last Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand. She didn’t care if Y/n wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. At least she succumbed to Jennie for the moment.
She turned to Y/n as she sat up on the bed, pulling the girl up too–already discarding the jacket before she removed the girl’s shirt. Jennie leaned in and captured those plump lips, they tasted of vanilla, cigarettes, and tequila, her tongue pushing further into Y/n’s mouth. Their breaths were heavy, their kiss sloppier than usual, the woman worked on removing Y/n’s strapless bra and doing so with ease.
She kicked off the duvet from her body as she got down the bed, Y/n trying to chase after her lips and only getting the string of saliva to stretch further before it broke them apart. Jennie turned on the bedside lamp and her eyes were hungry for the girl, all she wanted to do was fuck all her anger out and into Y/n.
The younger looked at the cock that was straining against the underwear that still had her lip prints on them and Jennie reached over for Y/n. “You make me so fucking angry, Y/n.” She huffed out, pulling the girl to the edge of the bed and hooking her fingers at the hem of her skirt and underwear before she pulled on them. She made her so angry yet she made the billionaire crave her so much and it no longer made sense, it never had because what they had would never make sense. It wasn't supposed to make sense. Jennie pulled them down the girl’s long legs before she discarded them on the floor, quickly pulling her boxers down and kicking them to the side.
She leaned back down to Y/n, “I’m sorry.” The girl tried to apologise before her lips got pressed against Y/n's again. Jennie’s kisses were harsher than usual, forcing her tongue inside Y/n’s mouth before the wasted girl could register it. All she did was try to kiss back. “You’re not sorry, you’re a fucking brat who will always anger me.” Jennie’s tone was heated with anger as it never went away, her hand gripped Y/n’s thigh, pulling the girl closer and she pressed her hard cock against Y/n’s wet heat, gently rubbing it between her folds and lubing herself up with the slickness.
Jennie was well aware of how they angered each other and always would. They did it from the second they met and it would never change. It didn’t mean that Jennie would leave it all behind. She would drag it on for as long as possible even if it destroyed them. Pain became bearable, it became the usual, and it became pleasurable after a while. There was no telling right from wrong when they had looked at the wrong as right from the start. 
“You’re so fucking bad.” Jennie gritted out, her palm landing against Y/n’s thigh, the girl whined at the harsh pain and Jennie squeezed the flesh between her fingers. “But so fun to fucking destroy, aren’t you?” Y/n squirmed under Jennie who tugged on her lower lip, her body weight pressing her down into the mattress as her arms wrapped around Jennie’s back. Her kisses were like nicks, they hurt but they hurt so good the way she kissed down her neck, the way she bit down on her skin with the passion for hatred and desire.
“Jennie–” The girl got cut off, and another even harsher force landed right against her skin, it made Y/n jump but only to get nowhere as Jennie was right on top of her. “You don’t get to talk, Y/n.” Jennie pushed herself up, hand running between their bodies as she grabbed hold of her cock that was slick with Y/n's warm juices. Her eyes were on Y/n whose chest was heaving, the girl’s eyes just on Jennie, just for Jennie who guided her tip to her tight and sopping entrance.
“Each day I will remind you of who I am, how I own you, who you belong to.” Jennie breathed out as she pushed herself inside the girl, knowing very well that she had everything she needed to have Y/n in her chokehold. It made the girl’s back arch at the stretch that was intruding, grasping onto Jennie’s back and whimpering as she had no time to adjust. Her legs wrapped around Jennie’s waist. The billionaire was thrusting her hips into Y/n’s, the room quickly filled with the squelching, Jennie filling Y/n, stretching her out, her walls squeezing tightly around her cock with each stroke.
“Your fucking irreverence towards me will end badly one day.” Jennie groaned out, leaning down as she held herself up on her forearm beside Y/n’s head whose long legs were wrapped around her, holding Jennie close while nails dug into her skin. Nothing was gentle and nothing was supposed to be as they were in too much euphoria even to feel any real pain.
Y/n’s mind cut off when Jennie wrapped her hand around her neck, slowly cutting her breath as she squeezed her slim throat. Her heavy balls collided with her skin with each thrust, the woman panting for air right by her ear, her back flexing with each thrust under Y/n’s palms and nails only dragged harsher along her skin at the lack of air. 
Both of them were on the wrong side of heaven.
“You’re fucking with me for a reason, Y/n–fuck if I see you with someone else again, I will ruin you.” Jennie groaned right by her ear, slowly releasing pressure on her neck. Her hips were rough, each making her breath go ragged, carnal grunts coming from the back of her throat at the force she fucked the girl with as it was pushing her worn-out body to the limits. Her cock slid in before coming back out, only to slam back into Y/n hard enough for it to hurt them both.
Her cock was stretching the slim girl, splitting her and reaching the only spots that she needed to get touched. Every time the woman would fuck her she would touch her soul and make her attach herself even harder around Jennie. Y/n’s whiny moans were fueling Jennie on, her pace hard and deep, the bed squeaked with each thrust and Y/n’s walls fluttered around her throbbing cock. Jennie grounded herself hard against the floor with her feet to be able and have the girl trembling under her, the pleasure was clouding Jennie's mind. The juices spilling and staining the sheets.
“You will only get disappointed if you even try to see someone else aside from me—no one can fill your soul-sucking void, whore. Only me, no one else will take you for who you are, but me.” Her teeth dug into Y/n’s thin skin, biting down hard. "That's why you lie to everyone, but me." She muffled through her teeth that were digging into Y/n's skin to find even more support and leverage to fuck the girl.
A cry left Y/n’s lips, pleasure overwhelming her body as her hormones spiked whenever she was drunk. Her cunt was throbbing and her clit was continuously being rubbed at by Jennie’s pelvis in harsh motions. The dick pounding her, dragging along her walls in a painful yet filling with pleasure way, she was able to feel how much harder Jennie grew, the way her tip twitched while caressing her g-spot. She could feel Jennie fully–courtesy of Jennie ignoring using a condom when she knew Y/n wouldn’t have time to even think about it. Her cunt was snug around Jennie’s cock which was pounding her raw.
Jennie lifted her head, leaving a mark on the girl’s juncture that would bruise and she watched the girl under her. The way Y/n’s perfect breasts moved with each thrust, the girl only stayed in place because she was wrapped around Jennie. Her head thrown back, Jennie squeezed her neck again, watching the moans spill from her parted lips, walls squeezing her cock at each gesture because she knew Y/n’s body so well. Her hips rolled into the girl one last time and Y/n came undone under her, her thighs quivering around Jennie, her moans straining from the lack of air. Jennie could die from the way Y/n’s red eyes rolled back and she clawed at her back.
It sent Jennie over the edge, to know that only she managed to have the girl this way under her. That only she knew how to fuck her right, satisfy her with her cock, that she knew how to treat her exactly how Y/n needed to be treated whether outside or inside the bedroom because she was addicted to what Jennie had given her a taste of.
Her hand let go of Y/n’s neck, planting it down beside her head. “Here’s–” Jennie strained, her dick getting squeezed by Y/n’s warm and snug wet pussy. She buried herself deep, her heavy balls tightening as she had everything in them that Y/n deserved. “Everything for my good girl.” She breathed out, filling the girl with her warm and sticky cum, shooting it deep with each twitch of her swollen tip as the walls were squeezing so tightly around her that she was barely keeping it inside Y/n.
Jennie panted for air, unable to catch her breath, her heart pounded against her chest in a way that made it tighten and her throat was dry. Her body was clammy with sweat and she felt somewhere between disgusting and euphoric because her cock was still buried deep within Y/n’s snug walls. The girl under her slowly came back from her high, hands shaky as they let go of Jennie who looked down as she slowly pulled out of Y/n. Her eyes fell back on the girl’s face as tears were still drying on her cheeks, but the girl was quick to cover her face with her forearm while taking in a shaky breath at how overwhelming it had gotten somewhere along the way of the pleasure.
She silently got them both under the covers, covering any traces of the night with it as she hugged Y/n who was already dozing off in a room that was violently spinning, her body still faintly trembling in Jennie’s touch.
Jennie pushed herself up, ignoring the faint flinch from Y/n when she reached up to the girl’s face and pushed her hair out of the way. Jennie still cared about her and that was all that mattered. She leaned down and her lips gently pressed against her cheek. “I care so much about you. I’d give you everything.” The woman mumbled, leaving kisses along Y/n’s jaw and she felt Y/n pull more into her. Jennie wrapped her arms around her small waist, pulling her as close as possible while lying back down.
Jennie’s care just looked different.
[A few hours later]
“Why are you so pissed?” Jennie questioned, unable to please the girl who sat in front of her in the bathtub of the suite.
Y/n huffed, still texting on her phone while Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s one leg that was brushing against her thigh. Her palms smoothed against her calf as she put it on the edge of the tub, diagonally across Jennie who massaged the muscles. Her eyes not leaving Y/n who despite being on what Jennie assumed was one of the worst hangovers in her life still looked incredible.
“Everything fucking hurts.”
“Well…” Jennie started, pressing her lips against the girl’s ankle as she had already told her all the excuses. “You did fall.” She lied once again because that explained why certain parts of her body hurt.
There was the option of telling Y/n that her body was sore because Jennie had been harsh with her. Manhandled her, grabbed hold of her, pushed her around, and had rougher sex than she maybe should have since it was rough most of the time, but not like that. She could tell her that they fought, that she had threatened her in multiple ways which included abandoning her or going as far as killing her.
The problem with the truth was that Y/n would most likely not be sitting in the same bath as Jennie if she had told it.
Another problem was that Jennie couldn’t stand up for what she had done because in her defense she had been under the influence and Y/n had fueled her. It was certain that these things would happen and that was her excuse for letting them happen. What she couldn't control wasn't her fault.
Her eyes trailed along her slim leg, catching the bruises forming on her knees as having her on her knees on a cold marble floor wasn’t ideal either. These things only reached Jennie now when she was somewhat sober as she had already taken a line to wake herself up and take care of Y/n.
“Put your phone away.” She told her, expecting Y/n to do it to not cause yet another fight.
“I need to reply, Jen…One more second.” Y/n mumbled, this time not arguing or being defensive about it or telling her off because she knew that it would backfire. Her body hurt enough and she was scared to say no. Her eyes were caught by Jennie’s when she looked up to check if it was fine, looking for permission in the woman’s eyes, for the permission to send a text.
“Hurry up.” She ushered her with her lips trailing kisses along the girl’s calf.
Y/n squirmed and turned off her phone when Jennie nipped at her skin. “Stop or I will shove my foot up your ass, idiot.” She hissed and Jennie used the girl’s leg to pull her over to her. The water splashed, falling outside the tub and she grabbed hold of Y/n’s waist.
“You’re into some weird stuff, aren’t you?” Jennie questioned while pulling Y/n over to her lap, the girl straddling her and running her hands into Jennie’s wet hair. Her fingers tangled in it as Jennie leaned back, the water stopping under her collarbones, looking up at the girl, water drops falling down her pretty skin as the water stopped around her waist when she was in Jennie's lap. Her skin bruised, carrying Jennie's marks.
“I’m not,” Y/n mumbled with a roll of her eyes, fingers coming over to gently trace Jennie's face who turned her head and left a kiss on the nimble fingers. Her hands interlocked on the small of Y/n's back as she pulled her even closer to her. 
“There was a mention of daddy.”
“I’m going to fucking shove your head under the water and hold it there.”
God, Jennie could just hold the girl in her arms forever even if she wasn’t hers.
These moments made it worth it when she puckered her lips and Y/n gently kissed her.
The girl stupidly enough trusted Jennie.
It was more than Jennie making her walls crumble, Jennie had torn them down with force and given Y/n no other choice, but to trust her.
Those low lows were worth it when those highs came.
TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @badaspookie @xszn @badasgff @hwm1hyun @herwhcre @lilacura @naycore / taglist is open
masterlist.
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candyskiez · 5 months
Text
usually I hate possession plots but god,I love the possessed hunter plot. because it's just so painfully resonant as an abuse victim. especially to anyone who's been abused by bigots.
like. this outside force you once loved, you spent so much of your time trying to please, so much of your time begging for the approval of, isolates you. they cause you to grow paranoid and angry, snapping at people and pushing you away from your support system. makes you seem crazy to your loved ones, making them doubt your mental health and making you question your sense of reality because you can't tell what's real or not anymore (gaslighting, baby!) you're cut off and overwhelmed. you get put in situations where you're forced to do things you don't want to, you're in so much pain, you're being treated like something with no wants or thoughts of their own. you're stripped of your autonomy. you're belittled for what you wanted and told THIS is how you're supposed to be, and you're so miserable. you're pitted against your loved ones. your abuser tries to make all your loved ones hate you so you come back to them, so they don't lose you. and belos being a horrifically realistic portrayal of an IRL abuser makes this so much worse. he craves Caleb's attention and tries to force hunter to fill that void. nevermind HES the one who robbed himself of caleb in his life by killing him. he tries to make hunter his shoulder to cry on, his therapist, his punching bag, his doctor. uses him to look at himself and go "see! look how good I'm doing! my family is back and he finally loves me again!" , he is obsessive and horrible and cruel and so horrifically realistic. he strips hunter of his autonomy, and in the shit that will start sounding familiar to people who grew up in bigoted families:
forced him out of what made him most comfortable. literally grew out his hair against his will, treated how he'd changed his body and wardrobe to make himself more comfortable as something that tainted him.
also just. holy shit the violating him like that. just the fucking undertones. it's fucking horrific.
and that's why him fighting back is so huge. because he has the strength to say, no. fuck you, no. this is my goddamn body. this is my goddamn life. he takes all these things he LOVED. he loved, that belos had taught him he was sinful and a horrible person for not despising (hm, allegories) and says, fuck you, I WANT this. I want this, I love this, you tried to teach me to hate it but I don't. I love it. I love it, and you didn't break me. I want to leave the coven, I want to leave you. you hurt me, and I said sorry. you used me, and I said sorry. I am done being sorry. I am done feeling bad. I want this life you're trying to take from me. I want to go to the boiling isles and I want to have a life there, in that world you hate so much. I want to go to the boiling isles and be sinful and disgusting and everything you hate and I will love it. I will be happy. I will be free and everything you hate. and I miss when I thought I could please you, because it was simple. but I am happier as a heretic and as a sinner, and you can't change me. I tried to change myself for you, I just ended up miserable. you can't make me something I'm not. I tried. and I am done trying. I am hunter. fuck you, my name is hunter. my name is hunter, and you hurt people. it doesn't matter if you were trying to help me. you hurt me. and I am done, and I am leaving, and most of all I will never let you hurt anyone else like you hurt me.
and he fucking got it, man. he fucking got it. he went through HELL and he still came back swinging. the death feels symbolic to me almost? losing a part of you in traumatic events and you have to live without that part. and you got out but you lost pieces of you in the process, and that stays with you.
but he keeps going. he kept fucking going man and THAT is fucking amazing to me. he kept going. ohhh my god. I wish I had this when I was 13. hunter isn't as massive of a hyperfixation for me anymore by a long shot, but goddamn. I love this dude. I LOVED the possession scene so fucking much and it will always resonate with me so, so hard.
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Quarterfinals, Poll 4
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Propaganda under the cut
John Gaius, The Emperor Undying, God
Gaslight: When he resurrected his best friends he took away all their memories and gave them new names. He never reveals to them that he was the one who killed everyone on earth in the first place. He really plays up the "benevolent God" act Gatekeep: As a God, everyone is vying for his Favour and he is the one who gets to decide who gets it. He also doesnt share his knowledge of how to become immortal without killing your best friend. Girlboss: Literally made himself God. Never strayed from his ten thousand year old plan of Revenge. Rules an entire solar system and is colonizing more.
Jod is a frequent gaslight and gatekeep, however he falls more under the girlflop the girlboss. All of his plans go wrong but goddamn if he's not trying. Horrible ideas from an even worse person. Whent above gasligting and just straight up wiped his friends memories. Gatekeeping the knowledge of the universe. Had a child he didn't know about for 18 years and only found out cause she showed up dead(she's fine now(mostly)), girlboss move. Had a threesome with two of the gaslit friends, this would be less gross if he wasn't middle-aged. Gatekeeping the planets(I cannot explain this one). Ressurected humanity but also killed a lot of cows(girlboss). Put the soul of the earth in a woman and then put her in prison(but not before killing half of the amigos). Anticaptalist, bisexual, father. He has babygirl energy
Killed entirety of humanity and the whole solar system save a handful of billionaires and their victims, then resurrected the sun and a select handful of humans, wiped their memories, and established a religion in which he is god for over ten thousand years. Also an ex-tumblrina (probably) and goth twitch streamer (definitely).
Killed almost all of humanity, the sun and the solar system and then resurrected some of them deliberately without their memories and didn’t tell them that he killed them in the first place, and also told them that he was god. Renamed his friends after killing and resurrecting them. Set up imbalanced and toxic power dynamics among his inner circle that led to half of them either killing themselves or being killed by the other in each pair in order for half the group to become immortal saints, something he didn’t tell them wasn’t actually necessary to reach that sort of state. Lied to the surviving friends about why the ghosts of the planets in the solar system were hunting them, he told them they were after all of them because of the way they’d become saints which meant they could never go home, but they were actually only ever after him. Also because of this lie he was able to manipulate them into fighting the ghosts and dying in the process, saying that they would kill him which would destroy the sun, when actually they couldn’t kill him and also the ghosts were after just him so everybody would be fine if they just stopped hanging out with him (this is true in a LOT of senses actually). When he decided to get new immortal saints he specifically asked for the heirs of the houses, who were mostly younger in the 16-22 range and therefore easy to manipulate especially after killing their best friend (again, he knows that isn’t necessary and is asking it of a group of teens/young adults). When one of the people who was successful appears to have done it wrong, he pretends to be a mentor or father figure to her face (knowing that that is something extremely important to her) while having one of his surviving original friends try to kill her without her knowing he was behind that. On the girlboss front, I think he kinda thinks he’s a girlboss more than he actually is one, but he’s so good at the gaslight bit he’ll have you believing that too.
Ianthe Tridentarius
She is trying so hard to be the main character by lying and manipulating her sister, her cavalier, her mentor, her ?love interests? (Spoiler???) And also god. Not sure how it's working out for her but she does love to lie and manipulate
Worstie Ianthe is the DEFINITION of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. She is one of a set of necromancer twins that are the heirs to their houses rule. Except wait, only she is a necromancer and she has spent their entire lives doing necromancy for the both of them. She is constantly mean to their cavalier, Naberius, who she occasionally nibbles on like a chew toy, before eventually killing and eating him to ascend to sainthood. She goes to gods spaceship with another woman who ascended to sainthood who she has a crush on, this other woman is like…. Both incredibly mentally unwell and also haunted by at least 211 ghosts. Ianthes method of flirting with her? Gaslighting her about the corpse that keeps moving around and hiding under her bed. For no real reason tbh. She is clearly plotting to overthrow god, and at the moment that consists of her manipulating him while he’s too sad about his long term partners betraying him and subsequently exploding to really care. She dresses in terrible outfits and makes soup by burning onions to the bottom of a pot, putting meat in and some vegetables and then it doesn’t taste like anything so she puts in a few teaspoons of salt so it tastes like a few teaspoons of salt. She had her crush amputate her arm and regrow her a new one out of bone and it’s one of the horniest things I’ve read in my life.
"Gaslight = told her lobotomized (she helped), schizophrenic girlobsession that there was no corpse under their bed, even tho there totally was. Gatekeep = girl did NOT share the secret to god-like ascension. She kept that shit to herself until it was time to eat her boytoy, and by then everyone knew already. Girlboss = she has a non-necromancer twin sister, and literally Everyone thinks they r both necromancers because Ianthe is so good at it. She reverse engineered ascending to the aforementioned ascension without even completing any of the supplementary tasks. She held her own in a fight against a 10k year old lyctor. She becomes the figurehead of her entire empire. "
She uses a man as a chewtoy in the first book, literally gaslights the protagonist of the second book about a corpse, and elder-abuses God when he gets depressed in the third book. Nobody is doing it like her.
Dives headfirst with no regrets while basically laughing and covered in blood into murdering her cavalier once she realizes what the gothic locked room mystery/competition leads to while everyone else is questioning it, helps perform lobotomy on harrow so she doesn't remember the person she loves, manipulates everyone to get to the top
idk just everything about her
her relationship with her sister is incredibly Bad, she fosters codependency and views Corona(the sister) as an extension of herself. This does not stop her from keeping up the con that Corona actually has magic (She doesn't, it was always just Ianthe) for 22ish years and every single person who interacts with them falls for it. She killed a man against his will (most dying for this purpose specifically go willingly) and she consumed him and she will be burning his soul for eternity. She's completely repulsive and still somehow incredibly hot.
she takes advantage of the fact that the main character is prone to hallucinations. at one point she gaslights the mc into believing that the corpse under her bed isn't real just because she can. she reverse engineered a set of very complex trials on her own without anyone realizing she had the skills to complete them normally. she's also babysat god through his drunk and pathetic era.
Artist: @midnightcrows
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redclercs · 10 months
Text
DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
v. i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this
— the one where both of you have given everything to be where you are.
warnings: misogyny, sexual harassment, this is how monaco went btw i accept no criticism. barely proofread, sorry. 3.7k words (+ article, podcast excerpts)
masterlist ✢ next
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'Have we let y/n y/ln get away with way too much?'
By Alan Gomez
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Yes folks, it might be our own fault, we have created a monster in the form y/n y/ln. Mediocre actress at best and with an even worse personality, if the latest events are any indication.
But how could we let this happen? Come on, we're smarter than this!
The thing is, y/n brainwashed us into believing that her doe-eyed, no-brain characters were actually her. Don't beat yourselves up over this too much, even I was a victim of those pretty eyes. But now that the blindfold has fallen, we have come to realize we have let y/n get away with everything!
You might know y/n from Supercut, the romantic comedy that took the world by storm in 2019, where she starred alongside Aidan Kim and it lead to these two becoming one of the general public’s most cherished couples. At least until two months ago, when their breakup was announced via Inside Out. Although there haven’t been any official statements, given the circumstances, we believe it was the actress who broke it off with Kim.
RELATED:
→ Aidan Kim and friends at Cannes Film Festival
→ Y/N supports alleged boyfriend at charity football match
But whether she’s dating a new guy now or not, why do we keep letting her do whatever she wants?
How did she actually brainwash us into thinking she’s anything close to an “it girl”? After Supercut, all she’s done is the absolute bare minimum to keep people talking about her, it’s all RomComs and no effort. I didn’t want to be that person, and you have to believe me on this, but Aidan Kim made her.
Let’s remember Aidan built his career from the ground as a member of Star-5 the early 2010’s boyband that split in 2018. He was the ‘someone’ in the relationship. How can people even compare having the hit song “Round and Round” in your résumé to being in Scream (Netflix) and The Mist (again, Netflix)?
Aidan made us like her and the writers of Parisian Valentine, The Hating Game and Last Night In Love, did her a HUGE favor by consolidating her as the “Queen of RomComs” by what standard? Well, don’t ask me.
The truth is, we accepted y/n into our hearts and homes, thanks to Aidan Kim and an unbelievable amount of luck, and we haven’t held her accountable for anything ever.
Here’s what I’m talking about, if you’re still wondering what the point of this article is, click on every link to be taken to the whole context, you’ll thank me later:
❍Y/N yells at paparazzi to leave her alone as she walks around Beverly Hills with Victoria Presley.
❍ Y/N praises Taylor Swift while tearing down several male artists for writing songs about their personal experiences.
❍ Y/N says in interview with ELLE that not every movie has to be “profound”.
And just for fun:
❍ A collection of Y/N’s disastrous looks.
It’s time we realize y/n y/ln is talentless, has a horrible personality and feigns innocence she certainly doesn’t have. You will NOT continue to take advantage of us, y/n! It’s all over for you, so I’m glad you’re dropping your pathetic career to become a WAG. #Y/NIsOverParty.
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↺ FROM ❛WE WATCH❜ PODCAST
Paul Byrnes: Can y/n really do another role now, after all she’s known for are romantic comedies?
Anna Sanchez: well, I really liked her in The Mist, she did great as character in a horror it was—
Paul Byrnes: No one cares about The Mist, Anna, just you.
Anna Sanchez: all I’m saying is she’s a good actress, she can do other things. That was your question, Paul.
Paul Byrnes: Well, in my opinion she can't and that's it.
↺ FROM ❛IT TALK❜ PODCAST
Greg Zane: Let's talk y/n y/ln and her fashion choices now that she's an F1 WAG. What do we think?
Riley Green: She's a what now? How long has it been since she broke up with Aidan Kim?
Martha Vincent: I think she's looking great, I just wish she'd let go of the ugly caps.
Riley Green: No seriously, how long did she stay single?
Greg Zane: I agree Martha, but caps are big in Formula 1, nothing we can do about that. I'm wondering if she'll go for a more glamorous look in Monaco.
Riley Green: guys? hello?
Martha Vincent: Oh Riley, we're not talking about her love life, let it go.
↺ FROM ❛HOLLYWOOD VIBES❜ PODCAST
Pauline Oscar: [cont.] I'm just so curious about the reason of their breakup, why hasn't anyone said anything?! It must be juicy.
Brenda Yim: I feel like it's bad for one of them, most likely y/n. Hello, can anyone offer one of their friends some money? Just like old times!
Pauline Oscar: [laughs] Definitely! We need to know! Can it get any worse than the fact that she's already with another guy? What's his name? Charles Le what? She soooo cheated.
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liked by charles_leclerc, vicpresley, mati.bassi, carlossainz55 and others.
ynfreesia UM THE LIKES?
xxynbaby it's "monaco" of course
aidanluvs you don't even have the decency to pretend like you're alone? fuck you
ynredstar i cannot defend you if you pull this shit girl
mati.bassi great view for breakfast with my best girl!💕
ynredstar oh ynredstar nevermind thanks mati ↳ feels4aidan don't be so gullible she's obviously covering up for them
THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE DISABLED.
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May 27th, Montecarlo, Monaco.
THERE are tears in your eyes, and despite your best efforts not to let them run down your cheeks, it's futile. The worst part is that you're the one doing this to yourself. There's zero need to read 'articles' from pseudo journalists on how a man gave you your career and how you're tossing it into the trash for another. Not to mention the cascade of curses you received for a picture on instagram, where everyone thought you were with the other man.
Has your life really come to this? People don't talk about you unless a guy is involved? You loathe it. Your career was never about Aidan, and it's not about Charles now. Who only makes things worse every time he shows up and yet you can't manage to bring it up to him.
It's embarrassing. You don't want to walk up to him during whatever free time he has in a hectic weekend, and ask him if it really doesn't annoy him everything the press has made up about the two of you, or if he's really that unbothered by being paired up with you in the wildest scenarios, and tell him that he can shut them down whenever he feels like it (you wish he would already), and let him know you won't mind whatever he says about not being involved with you.
But no, Mr. Leclerc is busy giving unclear answers at interviews and liking your instagram posts, as if this isn't already a wildfire.
You put down your phone and pick it back up almost immediately, Vic's ringtone fills your hotel room and you wipe away your tears before answering her FaceTime request.
"Were you crying?" it's the first thing she says, moving her sunglasses to the top of her head. There's a lot of noise in the background and you can barely make the words out, but she comes so close to the phone that all you can see is the tip of her nose. "Why were you crying?"
"It's nothing, Vic. What's up?" you sigh, rubbing your eyes only makes things worse but you don't want to worry about that now.
"I just got to Monaco, babe," the phone is at a safe distance from her nostrils again and you can see around her, the airport where you landed a few days ago. "I'm with my parents," she rolls her eyes, lowering her voice. "But if you could get me into the Ferrari Suite I can hang out with you tomorrow!"
They allowed you one guest and the spot has already been taken by Mati, so there really isn't much you can do in terms of getting her into the Ferrari Suite. "Well, let me see what I can do, okay?"
"Okay," she sounds unsure, you know Vic enough to be sure she expected a different answer. "I mean my parents have Lounge privileges but it's more fun to be with you."
Had she said something about coming to Monaco you might have been able to do something, but as far as you were concerned she planned to stay in France all week, enjoying Cannes and mingling.
"I'll do my best Vic, but you know how they are," you exhale heavily, "Plus it's a crazy-ass weekend."
"Isn't it always?" she's yawning now, "We can meet for dinner later and you can tell me what's up alright? Being with my parents is so boring."
You shake your head, "Be nice, they just want to hang out with you. I'll call you after Quali," you check the clock on top of the nightstand, it's 10 am. You have to get ready for FP3, which you don't care about attending or not but Stuart Schaffer asked to see you, so you haven't got much of a choice.
"Sure babes, love you." Vic pulls her sunglasses down again and blows a kiss to the screen.
"Love you too," it's your turn to yawn as you tap the hang up button.
You look at the special edition Ferrari cap you received as a gift yesterday on top of your suitcase and immediately discard the idea of wearing it. No caps. And then the wave of disgust invades you, are you seriously going to do what some random man said on a podcast you came across by accident?
The answer is yes, unfortunately.
─────────
You would rip your leg off if you could, at least it would mean you’d be able to get out of this chair and away from Stuart. But his palm resting on top of your knee feels like a death grip and you’re frankly afraid to move in case it goes further up.
Mati decided to skip FP3 and you’re really hoping she’ll be on time for Quali because you have no one else to talk to, Stuart is just parading you around again and keeping you way too close for comfort because he’s in a great mood since both Ferraris maintained their top spots and things are looking hopeful for Qualifying.
You know it’s your chance to ask if you can bring Victoria around tomorrow, and you know the answer will be yes, but you don’t. You don’t want to ask things from this man, he’s the type to never forget a debt.
You barely catch a glimpse of Carlos and Charles as they walk by on the way to their debrief and Charles waves at you quickly, with a single-dimpled smile. He’s wearing the same cap you refused to put on.
“I’m going to call my friend,” you blurt out once Charles is out of sight, finally moving your leg back to make Stuart’s hand drop. “She had the worst hangover, I have to check up on her.”
“Oh, you girls get wild in Monaco,” Stuart cackles as you sprint away from him, actually resisting the urge to wipe your knee clean.
"Hey y/n!" Mati's voice can barely be heard above the EDM playing wherever she is. "What's up?"
"Where are you?" you whine, looking back inside the Suite. "Help."
"What's wrong?" you picture her frowning as she tries to walk away from the noise helplessly.
You feel guilty for worrying her so you sigh. "Nothing, I just hate being here. Are you coming here for Qualifying?"
"Yep," she pops the 'p' and laughs. "Listen, why don't we have lunch here at the yacht and then go back for Quali?"
"Yes!" once again you look over your shoulder to where the Elix men are laughing at their own jokes and patting each other's backs. “I’m on my way, okay?”
“I’ll be right here, also don’t scare me like that again, please.”
“Sorry,” you chuckle, embarrassed. Maybe you’re a bit dramatic at times, but it’s really all good-natured. “See you in a minute.”
You turn to the door of the Suite, giving a short jump back when you open it at the same time as someone else.
“Oh, god,” you sigh, stepping inside as Charles moves out of the way to let you in. “Thanks.”
“Sorry I scared you,” he smiles, closing the door again once you’re fully in. Charles is once again holding a closed Elix can, tapping his fingers on the side.
You eye it suspiciously, wondering if the thing has really grown on him. After all, one of the first things he told you was how much it disgusted him.
“It’s alright. I thought you were in your debrief?” You grab a can of Elix yourself, looking good in front of the sponsors cannot hurt.
“It was a short one. Keep doing what you’re doing kind of thing,”
“Right. Well, good for both of you,” you look around for Carlos but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Would it jinx it to say ‘good luck’ for later?”
You know many sportspeople take their jinxes and rituals way seriously, and you don’t want to be the one to blame if something goes wrong for the local star.
Charles considers this for a second and then shakes his head no. “Wish me luck,” he smiles.
“Good luck, Charles.” You beam back at him, enjoying—despite yourself—the way his eyes burn into yours.
─────────
You’re back at the Suite with Mati 10 minutes before Qualifying starts. The tension that had seeped out of your body in the form of laughter and loud singing with Mati is already making its way back to your back and jaw. You’re not ready to be around the Elix people again, but you must. However, first, you make Matilde promise she won’t leave your side.
Stuart Schaffer is already patting the empty seat next to him when you make your way through the refreshment tables. You smile at him, a muscle in your cheek falters as you walk past him on your way to the balcony, to catch both Ferraris leaving the garage.
“Oh don’t drink that,” you whisper when you see Mati walk your way, two cans of Gold Elix in her hands. “Don’t.”
Matilde snorts, “You’re literally the ambassador of this thing, and you don’t like it?”
“SHHH!”
“Fine, but those guys are looking at us so we have to at least sip it.”
You groan, opening the one she offers you and then taking a huge gulp. “Yum,” you mock.
Mati laughs again before her face goes sour with the taste. “Oh my God,”
“Warned you,” yet you take another sip. You think that if it grew on Charles it might grow on you, but you don’t really see it happening.
Q1 and Q2 go by smoothly, at least for Ferrari and you’re on the edge of your seat for Q3. This is the race you’ve been more excited for, but it’s not like you’ve attended many others. Still, Monaco just hits different.
The end of Q3 almost gives you a heart attack, although you also blame your almost empty Elix. You didn’t even notice how much you drank, but the thing that really gets your heart jumping out of your chest is Victoria’s ringtone.
Begrudgingly, you turn away from the track. She has texted you a thousand times, without exaggerating, since Quali started and you know it’s because she’s bored out of her mind at the Lounge with her parents. But you’re starting to find this genuinely entertaining and you are bothered by the distraction.
“I told you I’d call you after Quali, Vic,” you singsong, looking up at the screens inside the Suite.
“Well Quali is almost over, no one cares about the last three minutes.”
You do, Max Verstappen is in first place, then Charles and Checo in P3. You’re crossing your fingers for Charles to manage to get above both Red Bulls. And for Carlos to squeeze in there too.
You don’t say anything else, too enthralled by the battle on the screen.
“Y/n?” Vic raises her voice, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes Vic, what is it?”
“We’re going to be at Ferrari together tomorrow, right?”
You wince, glad she chose a phone call instead of FaceTime this time around. You haven’t asked and you don’t intend to. Vic still has VIP Lounge access, she’ll be fine.
“They said no, Vic.” You lie, your eyes scanning the screen, it’s the last lap before they get the checkered flag out. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Why? Did you tell them I can give them publicity? I have one million followers!”
“Monaco is different from Miami,” you explain gently, “But you’ll still be at the VIP, you have a great view.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she’s beyond annoyed now, as it happens every time things don’t go her way. You can’t blame her, but you also think it will be good for her to spend some time with her parents, whom she refuses to visit although they live in Malibu and pay her mortgage. “We’re still up for dinner though, right?”
“Yep! I’ll meet you at your hotel.”
“Okay see you then, babes.”
By the time your eyes return to the screen, Charles is in P1, Carlos in P3 and the Ferrari Suite is exploding in cheers.
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YOU’RE up painfully early the next day. Vic and you went back to your respective hotel way past three am and you’re exhausted, but at least you had enough self-control to avoid today’s hangover.
Nevertheless, the morning goes by in a blur between breakfast with Elix people, calls with Mildred and Walter, your manager, and two casting agents that tell you that no, you don’t need to go for an in-person casting, you’re not getting the role.
By the time you get to the Suite you have a headache and the knot on your throat is progressively getting harder to swallow. You only make things worse by rage-reading tweets with your #IsOver hashtag.
People claim, with more force every day, that Aidan gave you everything and you are starting to regret ever meeting him.
You have worked your ass off for years, taking on small roles, commercials, stock-photo deals. Learning scripts and going to castings and taking classes, you have been criticized and rejected for more things than just “not fitting the role”.
You have given everything you are and everything you have, and people assure what you got in return you owe it all to some man.
“Hola y/n!” Carlos is the first one to get back to the Suite and you wish he would rub off some of his good mood on you. “How are you today?”
“Hi Carlos, I’m alright and you?”
“You definitely look it,” he says, semi-sarcastically. “Something on your mind?”
The knot is back in your throat so you shake your head no. “And yours?”
“Nada de nada.” he smiles. You’re still growing on each other, but this is the most comfortable you’ve been while sharing the same space.
Charles arrives while Carlos, Mati (who is hungover from her party at the yachts) and you are comparing workout playlists. Wearing what now seems to be like his comfort cap, and a pair of ugly ripped jeans, he smiles brightly at the three of you.
You’re happy to see both Ferrari boys so smiley after the past couple races. Miami especially. And you hope they’ll do well; but you’re particularly scared for Charles, and whatever it is that made him unlucky in his hometown, you don’t want this day to end on a sour note.
You spend about an hour talking to them about anything, your movies, their races, Mati's tour with Romeo and Juliet. Music, hobbies and quirks, Charles and Carlos have an opinion on everything and they are actually quite fun to be around. Then, a Ferrari Team member comes to get them for the Drivers Parade so you wave them goodbye, wishing them a smooth race.
"You're not going to wish me luck, y/n?" Charles asks, the smirk on his face is one you identify as mischievous, and it makes a small wave of anxiety run down your back.
Mati stops the bottle of water halfway through her mouth to ogle at the two of you, and the palpable tension that has installed itself in the space.
"Good luck, Charles," the smile you return falters in one corner, but Charles doesn't seem to mind as he adjusts his cap and says thank you before leaving behind Carlos.
Mati has forgotten about her need to hydrate and is staring at you with both eyebrows raised. "I thought you were not doing that?" she gestures with her head towards the door through which both drivers vanished.
"I'm not doing anything," you reply, defensively. "He's being—"
"y/n, you could cut the tension there for a minute," Mati finally takes a swig of water and you wait for her to continue talking. "Like I said, I don't recommend it but... you're free to do whatever you want." she isn't unkind while wording that last part, but it still stings you with annoyance.
"Thanks, Mati." you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning back into the sofa.
─────────
The Ferrari Suite explodes in cheers once the checkered flag is out. After a frankly insane race with rain, crashes and too-long pit stops, both Ferraris have crossed the finish line, and most importantly Charles has finally managed to get rid of his Monaco curse. His enlarged picture appears on every screen with P1 right in the middle. Carlos is P4, but the points are extremely important in the long run, so people celebrate nevertheless.
Before you know it, Mati and you are being dragged down to the track for the podium celebrations. You're buzzing with excitement, holding Matilde's hand as you run to one side, where the mechanics can't crush you as they jump up and down.
Even above the general screams of happiness, you can hear talks of 'Charles deserves this so much', 'It was about time' and 'His hard work is finally paying off at home'.
At least someone's blood, sweat and tears are valued.
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YOU are probably not living down the Charles dating allegations this weekend. Which is not your fault, honestly, had they enlarged the picture, it would have shown Mati just as excited for Ferrari as you were. She's Italian, and she bleeds for Ferrari.
But right now, surprisingly, you're not overwhelmed with whatever it is they're saying on Twitter. Although it took Mati snatching your phone away and tossing it in her own purse before sitting you down to retouch your makeup for the celebration party.
Victoria is joining you too, because a 'the more the merrier' applies to any sort of party happening in a Monaco club, especially if it is for the unofficial prince.
It is the first time in three months you let go of your worries, even if it is for the shortest amount of time as you dance with Victoria and Mati and drink anything you please and whoop every time the DJ mentions Charles and Carlos.
You're happy to be with your friends, away from Elix and celebrating two people who can become something more than coworkers to you. Although through the night you see them on a few occasions, Carlos waves at you as he passes by a few times only stopping in the third time to let you congratulate him with a quick hug that's more of a shoulder squeeze than anything.
Charles is obviously harder to approach, and to be fair, it's not like you're even trying. He's surrounded by his hometown friends and by anyone who wants to have his attention for a minute, for a picture or a dance or to buy him a drink.
It's past three am when Victoria is beyond buzzed and you're starting to feel exhausted so you decide it's time to leave. Mati has found someone to take home so she's been gone for around forty minutes, minding her business.
"Come on, let's go," you are grabbing Victoria by the wrist as her ankle twists. "We've both had enough," you laugh, Victoria joins your laughter as you snake through the crowd of people pumping fists in the air, some of them point and wave at you and you smile back at them politely.
You hear your name being passed around a few times, but you focus on finding the exit while keeping Victoria by your side, who has started to whine about not wanting to leave.
Once you break into the outside, you take a breath of fresh air, the coolness makes your skin rise in goosebumps and you shiver, letting go of Victoria to lift the hair on the back of your neck.
"It's too early!" Victoria complains once again, her eyes are glassy and she's just as sweaty.
"It's not, plus you're drunk, we should leave," your ears still feel drowned in the sound of music. “My feet are killing me.”
The exit opens again, and a couple stumbles out laughing and they tell Vic and you goodbye in drunken French. Before the door shuts again, Charles is out on the street too.
"I heard you were leaving," he says in what you're sure it's a too loud voice. But your ears have barely stopped ringing, so you can't blame him. "Are you two okay?" he eyes Victoria, who is starting to lean down on her knees to soothe her dizziness.
"Oh we're alright, we've just partied enough," you smile at him. Charles is rosy, bright-eyed and sweaty. Is it corny to describe someone as painfully handsome?
"I didn't get to congratulate you," you add, trying to keep your attention on Charles while being aware that Victoria might start retching at any given moment. "You did amazing."
Victoria straightens immediately, her glassy stare focusing on Charles. "You're such a good driver, Charles, for real."
"Thank you," Charles nods awkwardly a few times as Victoria pokes him with her left index finger. "And thank you y/n."
"Come on, Vic," you chuckle, keeping her hand away from Charles. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you."
Charles smiles again, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, really. I'm sorry I didn't see you earlier," he points behind him, to the club.
"It's your party, you can't be everywhere,"
Vic is yawning loudly, and you roll your eyes, amused. "We better get going."
"y/n, when are you flying to Spain?" Charles blurts out, the moment you turn to lead Vic down the street.
"I'm not sure, Wednesday probably?"
"You know, I can still show you a place or two in Monaco. If you want." He sinks his left hand in the front pocket of his dark jeans, and you wonder where the mischievous aura from what seems like ages ago went.
You pause, letting Vic put her whole weight on your shoulder as she finally gives up to the exhaustion. "Um well..."
The same tension that appeared at the Ferrari Suite is back, and the more you hesitate, the thicker it becomes.
Victoria pulls you down with her as she throws her head back, yawning again. Charles is just in time to hold you back up, his other arm pulling Vic back to a standing position.
"Only if you want," he says, he is far too close now and you can smell the mix of alcohol and cologne on him.
And maybe it's the alcohol in your own system, and you'll regret this once you sober up and realize that you told Matilde several times this is exactly what you were not going to do, but you say yes.
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─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I want to say thank you to everyone who interacts with this series, it means a lot to me to know that you're enjoying it!♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @majx00
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after-witch · 1 year
Text
Gutter [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Title: Gutter [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Synopsis: Mahito took you a while ago. He’s not human. But it gets harder and harder to remember that. 
Word Count: 3000ish
Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, noncon sex, mentions of mild physical abuse, degradation
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You were so unremarkable that you doubted if even your parents could come up with something unique about you. Much less teachers, much less your (distant) friends. 
You were just… you. 
But there was something special about you, wasn’t there? Something that you never told anyone about, because by the time it happened--puberty, of course, it was always puberty--you were old enough to know that it spelled nothing but trouble.
Unremarkable, nobody-worth-mentioning-you… could see curses. Most people couldn’t, unless they had a talent for sorcery. You didn’t. 
But you were unlucky enough to casually see the awful things usually hidden behind a thick blissful wall. A barrier that kept people from realizing a curse was latched onto their side, their back, their throat.
You did your best to ignore them. Look away. Pretend they weren’t real and go about your business and hope to heaven that none of them would ever try to latch onto you. 
But one day, looking away from them wasn’t enough.
Because you bumped straight into a curse who didn’t look like a curse. And at first, you’d stammered, eyes to the ground, apologizing for being so clumsy to the man who was the unfortunate victim of your inability to pay attention to your surroundings.
“Oh,” the man said, “What’s this?” And it was the oddest thing. His voice sounded almost like a pleased purr. But why--?
The realization was slow, like walking through molasses. 
You’d looked up, starting from his feet, slowly taking in an appearance that looked like it belonged on some Halloween show. A strange outfit. Scars, stitches, and mis-matched eyes.  
A costume, maybe? But even you didn’t entertain that thought for long, because something about him was inherently wrong. It made your gut boil. 
He peered down at you, a soft, growing curiosity on his face. His eyes were different colors. His face was stitched. 
And then he grinned, and you knew what he was, because inside that grin was everything horrible that ever was and ever would be. 
He was a curse. And he was smiling at you.
But it was too late for you to do anything about it.
--
The couch underneath you was stained and patched. But it was better than sitting on the concrete of the sewer, so you were grateful for it. 
That’s what your life had dwindled down to--being grateful for a ratty, old sofa with mysterious (and regrettably, some not-so-mysterious) stains on the cushions.
You pick idly at one of the patches as Mahito comes into view, holding up a DVD case like it was a prized possession. You look up at him, because if you try to pretend he’s not there, he’s going to get annoyed. And if he gets annoyed…
“I got us a new movie!” He says, almost singsong. “It’s supposed to be very popular. I wonder why…” He flips over the case and skims over the back, and it makes your chest hurt. He looks so normal, in moments like these. He shouldn’t. He’s not normal. He’s not even a person, for God’s sake--
All thoughts cease as he inserts the DVD into the player and walks behind you, to what you might call the “kitchen” if you were going to call it anything. In reality it was a table stacked with haphazard boxed foods, a microwave and a small refrigerator intended for drinks. 
This last gadget he’d only dragged down here after the third or fourth bout of all-night vomiting from foods left out at room temperature. And even then, he’d fought your begging with a smile and soothing words. “But I don’t mind when you throw up! I don’t think it’s gross at all. Really, you shouldn’t be so self-conscious.”
The sound of popcorn from behind you doesn’t come as a surprise. Nor is the scraping dread in your stomach that follows as he plops himself down on the couch and throws his arms around your shoulder unfamiliar--only unwelcome.
It’s a comedy. At least he didn’t lie about that. You barely pay attention, but he does. He laughs, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close now and then. It’s like you’re a couple having a movie night when the roommates are away. 
Only you’re not.
His fingers dig into the bowl of popcorn, and there’s a steady crunch as he eats (even though he doesn’t need to) and watches a comedy (even though he gets amusement from far nastier things on a regular basis) and snuggles against you.
“Not hungry?” 
His sudden voice is so close, his breath unnaturally cool against your cheek. It’s a blissful reminder of his inhumanity, that coolness. 
You shrug. You should eat. At least popcorn won’t give you food poisoning. 
You make no move to grab from the bowl, so he scoops another handful of popcorn into his palm and holds it up to your mouth, like he’s presenting a treat to a horse. 
You slowly open your mouth--what might happen if you don’t?--and he pushes the pieces inside one by one. His long fingers linger on your lips, dragging over them, and you shudder.
--
“I like them both, really, but I want your opinion.” 
Mahito shifts the two lingerie sets up and down, like he’s weighing them on a scale. One is a short black one-piece that is primarily see-through, with attached black garters creating a lascivious effect even on the hanger. The other is all pink frills, frou-frou to the extreme. 
The thought of wearing either makes you want to throw up, and you screw your eyes shut and turn your head away. Maybe if you don’t give him a reaction, he’ll get bored and move on.
You should know better, though. He doesn’t mind prodding at you until you give him a response. Sometimes, you realize you should be grateful for that. He could just kill you, if you stopped being entertaining. Instead he makes sure you’re not fully tuning out, not fully retreating into a blank shell where you can imagine you’re somewhere else.
“Ahh, you’re feeling shy?” He grins and drapes both sets over a chair. You curl your fingers inward until they pinch your palms. “It’s okay. I’m the only one who will see  you in them, you know…”
You dig in harder, until Mahito’s hand is on your chin, and your eyes open out of jerky reflex.
“Was that the wrong thing to say?” He looks genuinely confused, and genuinely curious. He lets go of your chin and slots himself next to you on the bed. “You’ll look good in either set! Or you can wear nothing. You’re prettier than me, did you know that?”
It’s like he’s trying out different things, to see what makes you tick in the right way. Or is he trying to make you feel better? Either option makes your chest tighten for different reasons.
You give him a tired, withering look.
He grins, and pokes your cheek.
“Don’t worry. If you can’t pick, I don’t mind taking the decision off your shoulders!”
--
Sometimes, Mahito fucks you. It’s never quite the same. It makes you feel like one of his experiments, though you’re writhing for quite a different reason than they are as he hums and decides just how large he wants to make himself for this particular session. 
You’ve only come a few times, and it was essentially by accident. Mahito was mostly concerned with his own gratification, with stretching--sometimes literally--the limits to see what he could do. You don’t care, not really, but you can’t say it makes the experience more enjoyable when you’re left sore and unfulfilled. 
Lately, though, he’s added something startling. More startling than when he surprises you with extra hands to shove roughly inside or an impossibly long tongue snaking into your mouth, choking you.
Now, he’s taken to holding you after sex. Not holding you down while you whimper and squirm, but simply… holding you. Quiet and calm. 
And that’s where you are now, snug in his arms, sweat on your brow, as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder and rests his own chin on top of your head. His hands come up to stroke at your cheek, and you’re so tired, so dazed, that you don’t even flinch.
“That is pleasant, isn’t it?” He murmurs. You can’t tell if he’s asking you or talking to himself.
Pleasant…
As if he didn’t force you. As if he didn’t hold you down. As if there weren’t bruises on your wrists, your neck, your soul.
But as he pulls you closer and you find yourself lulled by the idle strokes of his fingers on your skin, the calmness exuding from his body, you can’t help but feel your body relax until it feels heavy and buzzing.
This was pleasant.
If you ignored everything else that came before.
--
Mahito pries open your thighs with only token resistance on your part, since you aren’t keen on the all too familiar bruises from his fingers today.
This is not unusual.
Mahito spreads your legs apart and doesn’t immediately start fucking you with his fingers or cock.
This is a little unusual.
Mahito crawls in between your legs, flat on his stomach, and rests his chin in his hand while he stares intently at your pussy.
This is definitely unusual.
“What are you…” You lean up on  your elbows, curiosity and fear swirling sourly in  your stomach.
He pouts up at you.
“I’ve been selfish, haven’t I? I read a book…” He points to the stack of books piled next to his hammock, as if you know exactly which one he’s talking about. “It says women are often ignored by men when it comes to sex. That some women don’t even get to orgasm!” He sighs, drawing it out. “I have been ignoring you… so awful.”
His gaze returns to between your legs, 
There is a dueling urge to snap your thighs shut or spread them wider. 
Mahito makes the choice for you. He reaches out and gently pulls the lips of your pussy apart.
“This little button for instance… the book said most women need it touched.”
You swallow hard. 
His thumb reaches out and strokes your clit, softly, almost tickling. 
“It’s like a little pearl.” There’s a grin in his voice as he continues to rub. You can’t help it when your hips grind down, wanting more friction than he’s giving. He seems to take the hint and presses harder, and there’s a delightful spark of pressure that runs straight down your gut.
“Mahito,” you gasp.
“I like that,” he whispers. “Say my name like that again. Like you want me. And you do, don’t you?” He grins. “Now that I’m touching this cute pearl…” His words bring tears to your eyes, or maybe it’s his touch–you can’t tell the difference. 
His thumb begins to rub slow circles around your clit, the pressure increasing your pleasure with every touch.
“Mahito.” Your voice is a soft keen. You don’t even mean to obey his order, it’s entirely instinctive. He’s making you feel good and you should say his name.
“The book said that not all women can orgasm without different types of stimulation, too, so..."
He leans his head closer, and you're only barely aware of what he's doing before his tongue licks a long stripe that ends with wiggling his tongue tip around your clit.
“Oh--”
He shifts gears, then, lapping at you slowly yet firmly.
You throw back your head and let out a series of keening grunts. It’s not enough to get off, not yet, not when you went from completely untouched to being lapped at like a bowl of milk, but…
“This is better, huh?” His words are practically spoken into your pussy, and you can feel the way some of your wetness clings to his lips as he speaks. “I still want to have my fun, but you should have fun too, shouldn’t you?” Again, you can’t quite tell if he’s asking you or simply affirming it to himself. 
It doesn’t matter, because all you can really focus on is his tongue, and the way the digit begins to swirl around your clit, applying more pressure.
“Yes,” you breathe out, moaning. Your fingers clench the sheets. “More--like that, like that, please, oh please.” 
Mahito presses a chaste kiss to your swelling clit. “Are all human women so polite when you lick them here? Or just you?” Heat burns your cheeks. But he doesn’t need an answer, and in a moment you feel his tongue on you again, tracing firmer patterns, providing just the right pressure for a warm tension to grow perfectly right. 
Your head turns from side to side--you want it, you don’t, you do--as the tension between your legs builds and builds until it finally snaps and floods your senses with red hot sparks. Your legs kick out helplessly, and your breathy moans are almost bewildered. 
Mahito keeps licking, soft little laps, until your body relaxes and you begin to come down from the high. Gradually your heart rate slows, gradually you realize exactly what happened. 
He waits until you look at him to speak.
“You looked absolutely ridiculous like that, did you know?”
His grinning mouth glistens with your wetness. Heat flushes from your chest to your face at the sight of it--and the way his words make your stomach twist in shame. 
“But don’t worry, I like it. I want to see that face again…”
You don’t have time to do more than whimper as he lowers himself back down between your legs. He licks his lips grotesquely, his tongue stretching until he’s lapped up every bit of you clinging to his mouth, before he returns his tongue to your clit. 
This time, the pleasure is mingled with a vague over-stimulation that makes you let out little keening whimpers every time he presses harder with his tongue. Sweat beads on your forehead and your back stretches as you grind yourself down towards him, wanting more despite how strange it feels. 
It’s so much… but it still feels good, and if anything, you reach your peak faster now that you (and Mahito) have had a taste of it. The second orgasm hits harder, and you gasp with your mouth strained open as your back arches so far you’re worried it might pull out. 
But he’s not done.
He’s not done, because his fingers are back on your clit even before you get time to catch your breath, pinching it firmly enough to make you squeal. 
“Not again,” you groan, half-whining. “I can’t--oh, I can’t, please,  Mahito, Mahito--it’s too much.” 
Mahito hums, and positions himself until he’s looming over you, his fingers still working your clit as your legs kick and your hips try to twitch out of his reach. His other hand--it must be a third one, because his palm goes to rest on your cheek--pins your hip down with ease. There will be bruises later.
Mahito leans down close to your ear. His cool breath almost snaps you to reality, but then his finger is rubbing your clit back and forth, stimulating the bundle of nerves until you swear you see sparks behind your eyes. 
“Try,” he murmurs in your ear, all cold honey and poison. “Try for me, won’t you? Since you’re being so good for me?”
It hurts, but it feels good. It’s too much, but you want more. You feel ashamed, but you don’t care. 
You murmur something soft and pitiful, something like assent, and his eyes widen as he thrusts a finger inside you to aid with the stimulation of your clit. 
You grunt, primal in your pleasure, as he doesn’t let up the stimulation until the painfully good feeling in your clit tightens to the point of release. It’s like someone has pulled a string running from your belly to your clit as taught as possible and let it go--there’s relief and pleasure and discomfort all rolled into one overwhelming experience. Your legs and thighs shake wildly as you clench around his finger, and Mahito’s third hand releases your held hip. He leans back and watches you from head to toe, taking it all in, committing it to memory. 
As you come down from the overstimulated high, you feel his finger pull out just before he leans down and presses a wet, hungry kiss to your mouth. You don’t need to be forced to open your mouth this time, gasping as his tongue--thankfully the normal size--swirls around yours. 
You murmur something into his mouth, unprovoked, not even realizing that it’s coming out until he pulls back and asks you to repeat yourself without his tongue in the way. 
“Thank you,” you repeat. Your voice is soft and meek and God help you, grateful. Sexual experiences with Mahito never felt like this. Especially not twice. Especially not three times, over-stimulation notwithstanding.
Mahito’s thumb trails across your lower lip. He opens his mouth, but whatever he said is retracted as he closes it again. He presses a sloppy smooch to your nose and pulls back, all energy, all excitement.
“Now it’s my turn for fun, okay?” He’s grinning, and the exuberance is almost contagious as you find yourself letting out a short, startled little laugh at his sudden change. 
He glances down at you, and the soft, curious expression he wore when he first met you is there on his face. It’s smoothed over in a moment, replaced with a grin. Replaced with his hands spreading your thighs even wider, and his fingers pushing his trousers down until his erect cock is right in view.
If you were thinking and not caught in a brain fog from your triple orgasms, the physical and mental turmoil that they took, the reappearance of that curious expression might give you pause. Might make you think. Might make you wonder about why he made it, and what he’s thinking, and what it means for you. 
But all you can think about is whether or not Mahito will try to make you come for a fourth (and a fifth? And a--) time while his cock is sheathed inside you. All you can think about is how good his cock might feel this time, with your pussy wet from multiple orgasms and your nerves tingling and stimulated.
There will be bruises, afterward. There are always bruises, with Mahito. Sometimes ones you can’t even see.  This time will be no different, in that respect. 
But this time, the memory of his wrists gripping yours or his mouth biting bruises into your neck will be mingled with the way your back arched and toes curled and the sight of Mahito's face, glistening with your pleasure on his lips.
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quolafish · 10 months
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Tomura Shigaraki is so touch starved.
Love him. Comb your fingers through his hair, kiss his lips, just… shower him with love. Not just empty sex, give the man more. He needs more than just pleasure. He needs the aftercare, the emotion, the passion, everything that makes sticking around afterwards worthwhile.
He’s so insecure. He deems himself unlovable. He doesn’t deserve to be loved, he thinks, and honestly he’s probably right. Tomura Shigaraki is a victim, he was abused and thrown onto path of villainy, and he treads on it until he reaches his dreams. It’s not fair the stupid, ‘never give up on your dreams motto’ doesn’t apply to everyone. It’s selective, and why the hell should he care, why shouldn’t he just get what he wants?
Heavens, he can just take you, can’t he? He could keep you hidden away forever and never let you see the light of day again. He could keep you, he could get rid of you, he could literally have you any way he wants but he couldn’t do any of that. Not when the fact is when he makes you cry when he yells, he wants to tear his throat apart, rip out his larynx and decay the voice box. Not when the sight of you trembling when he’s in one his slumps, refusing to leave his smelly depression room, holding a shaking plate of a meal you made for him, knowing he hasn’t eaten in a week.
You look afraid of him in those moments. Your stupid to think he would hurt you. He’s stupider to make you think so.
You’re fucking quirkless. You’re useless to him, you should be useless to him! You have nothing to bring him close to his dreams and somehow you attack him, like a vicious disease, with new, stupid dreams of being touched and held like a person, a man that is loved. He’s a villain! He wants to be one, he needs to be one. Or else what’s the point?
He hates the world to the point of hating ever living, breathing thing. You must be a fucking zombie then. That’s ridiculous. You’re the most prettiest thing this world has ever assaulted him with, and your gentleness makes him dizzy. The only use you should have is… pleasure, he won’t deny he’s a man with needs and desires, but fucking hell! You’re no sex tool! The horrible lie makes him want to throw up his thoughts. He doesn’t when he realizes you’d be the one to hold his hair back and rub his stomach. You’re his peice of heaven the gods were stupid enough to spill down the drain, and now you’re stuck in the rat-infested sewers that is Tomura Shigaraki.
But you’re not. Not stuck, he means. He could make that be so but you know he won’t, he knows he won’t, hell, anyone with a brain who catches a glimpse at how he looks at you through Father knows you’re the first person to see him without the hand in years other than Kurigori. Anyone who jokes Tomura keeps you around for fun is getting decayed into nothing. Not even Dabi would dare. You’re all his but at the same time you’re not really. He’ll never admit it with words but when you have him in your arms, running your fingers through his greasy hair until you fall asleep, he’s all yours.
Yours, yours, yours!
Tomura hates himself for not hating it! For not hating you! You’re weak in the sense he needs to protect you, and yet you bring the man to his knees when coo his real, real name softly before the dreaded, three lettered word and that just makes him cry. A horrible contradiction, a mind numbing, mind cradling contrast when a monster is loved by an angel.
You… shouldn’t love him. He wished you didn’t, but at the same time he hopes you never stop. He hopes you never stop looking after him, hopes you never heal from whatever delusion of him you have in his mind. He’s a horrible boyfriend, and he knows it. And yet he tries to be better even though he can’t take you on dates. He tries to cuddle you even though he’s too afraid to make skin-to-skin contact; he’s so afraid he raises his pinkies when he wears gloves. You’re precious, you’re the death of him, the death of a villain and he starts having delusions of his own.
Delusions your sleep-inducing love twist into a dreams, lulling him into a temporary rest in your arms. Dreams of redemption, of being in your arms forever.
Tomura Shigaraki is irredeemable. He’s killed countless. He’s a monster. He’s selfish. He’s the viscous disease, he’s the life sucking zombie, he’s the parasite, the pathogen, sucking all your love like a greedy vampire, sucking you dry. He can see what this relationship does to you. It lasted years because Tomura Shigaraki is selfish.
He’s not being selfish when he leaves you, forcing you to forget him.
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avaaili · 30 days
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as a, now, ex-wilbur fan who is honestly not as shocked as i found out that he is a abuser. it should have been seen at the start when you look at the lyrics in his solo albums.
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(lyrics from his song trying not to think about it)
in shelbys stream, she states that wilbur wanted to marry her, he wanted to have kids with her, and told her that he loved her more than anything else in the world. but once shelby later brings up those plans, he instantly blows it off and says that he changed his mind.
i know there is more lyrics from his songs that can describe this situation but i am currently on the bus and very tired to keep searching
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(this is wilburs apology he posted on twitter today for reference)
i do think that the apology was only the bare minimum he could have done. there was more he could have done. it is great that he is offering his side of the story, but he still could have touched on more of the topics that shelby had stated in her stream. even though there is no excuse for his action, those topics should still be touched on and possibly explained by him and be apologized for. he calls himself “selfish” in his apology. this could be pointing towards when shelby says that he was a man who focused more on fame, money, and his career more than his relationship. this was very selfish of him and relationships need a lot of work and communication in them if they want to stay healthy and strong; which is something in him and shelbys relationship that needed to be fixed but he still pushed it off for his career and the money which is horrible. its also great that he is seeking help, but just saying your seeking help as a excuse doesn’t do anything wilbur. i do hope he can better himself as a person in the future but as shelby also said, these people can be seen as GENUINELY dangerous. im very upset about the whole “being shocked” about him biting shelby. YOU LEFT BRUISES AND THEN MADE JOKES ABOUT IT TO YOUR FRIENDS. making jokes that it looks like you abuse her when really he was genuinely abusing her!!! wilbur and shelby came up with a safe word for when she felt uncomfortable, and she used this safe word and she said that he would “bite down harder before he let go and sometimes grinded his teeth”. if she had used the safe word, it should have been a instant sign to let go. not to let go and smile after causing harm to her until she screamed. thats horrible and sick of someone to do. i know there is more that was said by shelby but i dont want to get any of the information wrong so if i have please correct me!
in all, we should support shelby. shelby is a victim of abuse.
and even though wilbur has done bad, he does NOT deserve death threats. i get it hes a abuser and did really shitty things but hes also a human and no human deserves death threats.
support shelby.
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