#like why was he fantasizing so blatantly like that it was fucked...

[nazfangz]

while i have everyones attention: tucker/lopez. and no im not kidding. i would never even joke avout that.

#i was so shocked watching the psa and tucker was asking if lopez has a ribbed cock.... #and i looked in the comments and no one even addressed it. #like why was he fantasizing so blatantly like that it was fucked... #tucker is like always getting in some gay shit honestly and it is his fault its kind ofcrazy #ugh love him tho... #rvb

[citrustan]

for what it's worth [3/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: some bitchiness (or like justice? idk it's up to you really)

note: yes. there is a chapter 4 because i'm not ready to let go of this just yet. and a thank you.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Two weeks passed by and you and Jia pretended as if absolutely nothing happened. It was simply the quiet before the storm.

Your days seemed to blend into nights, you felt yourself slipping into a bad place mentally. Always feeling distant and fatigued.

The emotional turmoil of having your trust broken and your privacy invaded caused you to miss out on much needed sleep.

While on the outside, everything seemed pretty much the usual except for a few painfully obvious differences.

You had stopped (publicly) obsessing over Jungkook, and it initially invited a lot of concern from Yoongi and Namjoon. But they didn’t push you too much when you blatantly ignored their questions about him. You also avoided Jia as much as you could. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Despite your crush on Jungkook, you had come to accept the boundaries of your non-friendship with him and the fact that he was deeply committed to Jia.

You had no intention of causing any harm to their relationship, as you had already shared your support with Jungkook for their secret.

It was difficult to not think of them. It often made you break into tears of anger and frustration. You had to mourn your loss.

Every night, thoughts of Jungkook would continue to consume you. You’d still imagine him to be yours. Images of him smiling at you and his voice calling you cute would linger in your mind.

It’s just pretend. There’s no harm in it.

You knew that Jia had described you as a ‘creep’ to Jungkook, but the label bothered you. You were not a creep, and you wanted to understand why Jia had portrayed you that way. No matter what you came up with in your head, nothing was a good enough reason to call you such a gross name. Sure, she hadn’t revealed to Jungkook your identity but that baffled you more.

Also, had Jungkook never wondered about this ‘creep’?

Too many things kept you up at night and you couldn’t stand being on the other side of the truth. You could no longer afford to let these things bother you. You were too fucking old for this shit.

With the final week before your course evaluations being right around the corner, you had subconsciously come to some harsh unanimous decisions. They weren’t impulsive or unreasonable. You really had thought this through. These decisions may be a risky, or bitchy, or just as sneaky as Jia was, but they’d still be within reason.

He needed to know the truth about you, Jia, and what she told him.

You wanted to tell Jia that you knew about them. It probably wasn’t going to come out of Jungkook, so it had to be you.

Why must you continue to suffer?

You didn’t want to wait around and anticipate Jia’s next move.

You’re not the type of person who sits around and ignores things like these. You had held it in for a while now.

You understood that your actions would have consequences and you were more than ready to face them. You hoped.

While you pretended nothing ever happened, Jia and you saw way less of each other.

You could count the times you interacted, or even passed by, or saw each other over the weeks on one hand.

Still, every time you’d think about your interaction with Jungkook, you were reminded of Jia too. Him and Jia. You couldn't help but notice his annoyingly deep feelings for Jia. He was so… considerate of her. It probably is just the bare minimum but it doesn’t matter. You could tell he was a great boyfriend to her. No wonder she kept him hidden.

Sometimes, it felt so wrong and scandalous to fantasize about the man. Maybe it even is so. But you weren’t just infatuated with Jungkook. You really liked him. Emotions like these don’t disappear overnight.

You longed to be loved and held by him too.

The campus shuttle came to an abrupt halt, indicating that it was the last stop. You had missed yours.

*

As the semester continued, Jungkook found himself missing the moments he had shared with you before everything became so complicated. Jia completely stopped mentioning you. Whenever he’d ask, she’d pout and demand his attention to be back on her. While he’d give into her, you still remained in the back of his mind.

It was late in the evening, and Jungkook had decided to take a break from his hectic study schedule, opting to go for a walk around his dorm on campus.

As he neared the drop-off point for the shuttle, he couldn't help but think about you, remembering the first time you had met at a bus stand.

He stood there, lost in thought, when he suddenly saw a figure leaning against the street light.

An involuntary smile crossed his face as he couldn't believe the coincidence.

"_____, is that you?" Jungkook called out, waving to get your attention. He jogs to where you now stood upright.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. "Jungkook? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled and motioned to the bus station. "Well, it seems like the bus stands are our special spot. I thought I'd take a break and enjoy the nostalgia."

You let out a mix of a sigh and an awkward laugh, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, and he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Would you like to grab some dinner? We can catch up?"

You were caught off-guard.

"Right now? It's not late enough for dinner." You attempt to find an excuse.

"Sure it is. There's a new Chinese fusion restaurant right off the road outside." Jungkook urged.

"Fusion? What is it fused with?" You wondered.

Jungkook paused. "I... Actually don't know. Want to find out?" He smiled, invitingly.

Not used to the attention he was giving you just now, you found it difficult to tell him 'no'.

Especially when you really wanted to 'catch up' with him.

So, you reluctantly agreed, and the two of you were headed to the nearby restaurant.

Jungkook smiled back at you as he led the way, "Do you want me to hold your hand? It looks heavy."

WHAT?

Your mouth slightly parted open.

Oh, my god? What was his deal?

You're malfunctioning.

"No. I'd rather not..." You hesitantly refuse. Jungkook slows down to let to catch up to him. "Are you sure? You look like you've been carrying that around for a while. And, I really wouldn't mind it."

More confused than ever, "Well, it is attached to me. I'm okay."

"Well, un-attach it! I'll hold it for you." Jungkook's hands graze your shoulder.

Your brows furrow. Finally, you just ask him. "What?"

"Let me hold your bag. Unbuckle, un-attach, relax." Jungkook blabbered as he switched positions to walk behind you, gently taking your backpack off your shoulders.

Oh.

Oh, no. Did you really think he was asking to hold your hand? Really now?

You big dummy with a capital 'D'.

You sigh. "Okay. Thanks, but let me just-" You cut yourself off by unzipping your backpack and pulling out a white sweater with pearls for buttons.

The two of you pause mid-way so you can comfortably wear your sweater. The temperature was dropping my the hour.

Although you don't have your matching mittens and earmuffs, it should be fine.

"That's pretty, _____." Jungkook complimented you.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, thinking about how much Jia would like this kind of clothing.

You shyly blush and look down at your glossy, red pointed toe heels, "Thanks. I made it myself with the yarn my mother spun for me."

Jungkook looked genuinely impressed. "No way. That's got to be worth a lot then."

You stared up at him with big eyes. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to you.

(That's a lie. Your other friends have always praised your clothes and outfits. But this is different, so it's ok!)

You wordlessly, softly smile at him. Jungkook stares back at you.

Suddenly, his expression changes. His eyes grow big and his mouth forms a smile, "Ah! Could I commission you to make something just like that for Jia? She loves stuff like that!"

And just like that, your heart shattered. Again.

Your kind smile turned into a forced one. "Maybe if I have time."

You noted that he didn't demand or suggest you to make a sweater for Jia, but rather requested it and offered to compensate for it. That just tells you more about how considerate and present he is.

Every time you've talked to people about your handmade clothes, they'd beg you to make them one or jokingly ask about it so that if you do end up making something for them, they wouldn't have to pay you for your efforts. This doesn't include your friends, obviously. And, even if your friends were to act this way, you'd gladly gift them your handiwork.

Well, even though he's somewhat of a stranger to you, if Jungkook ever asked you for something, you'd probably just do it for him too. No questions asked.

Jungkook asked you about your day and your classes. And, you him.

As you were walking on the snow covered sidewalk, you mentally cuss yourself out for picking these shoes. Not only were your feet partially frozen and numb, but also you were ruining very expensive shoes.

"Oh! Puddle, watch out." Jungkook swiftly skipped over a puddle of water that horizontally covered a significant portion of the walkway from one end to the other.

You watched him regain his footing and turn back to you.

Does he expect you to leap like that? Your legs aren't as long as his! But, you don't gave a choice.

You can't step in it, it could very well be a hole of icy water. That'd be risking a potential amputation.

You can't walk around it because there's nowhere to go. And, you can't switch to walking on the road because, well it's dangerous, and there's a metal partition placed specifically to avoid mixing people on wheels and people on foot.

Jungkook puts his hand out for you to grab.

"Just put one foot out to this side and I'll pull you up. Don't worry! I've always done this with Jia." He mentions Jia, hoping to reassure you that he wouldn't let you slip.

All it does is make you more uneasy. Just the thought of Jia. It has an odd effect on you. Your body feels colder. You shudder briefly.

Your only goal now is to get past this stupid puddle without humiliating yourself. You realize that delaying this makes you look more cowardly, hence humiliating you.

So, you grab hold of Jungkook's surprisingly warm hand. Not going to lie, you faked some uncertainty just so you could keep holding his hand.

Someone has got to get you in check.

Jungkook urged you to trust him yet again. His stance showed he was prepared to pull you through.

You lift your left foot and somehow land it on the other side of the puddle. Not even a second after, Jungkook roughly pulls you to him with all his strength.

Not expecting this amount of force, you clumsily collide into his chest, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso to avoid falling back into the very puddle you were trying to get across from.

Jungkook reciprocates by circling his arms around your shoulders and head.

How you wished he held you elsewhere, but he was so respectful.

Everything happened so quickly.

Embarrassed, your breath hitched and you suddenly pushed him to the side.

"Sorry." You whisper. You don't know if he could even hear you.

You fix your sweater and continue staring at your feet, eyeing the little droplets of water on your pants.

Your tummy and nether regions were blazing fire and you felt your nipples slowly hardening. You clench your hands into fists, desperately praying nothing is visible. I mean, you were wearing white.

You wanted so badly for Jungkook to reach out, just stick his hand up your top and soothe your pretty, sensitive nips. Your breathing has become unstable for a few seconds.

You should be beaten up for having these thoughts about a taken man.

Jungkook suddenly places his hand on your arm, making you jolt. "We're close. Look, it's there." He smiles and points to the establishment.

"Great. I'm so cold." You try to play it off, just in case he noticed something.

You then cover your chest by flipping your hair back over it.

This time, he let you walk ahead of him.

On reaching the restaurant, Jungkook skipped ahead of you and pulled the door open for you. "After you." He smiled, goofily.

You blush and instantly shake it off, "Why, thank you. My fragile hands could never."

Jungkook and you were immediately hit by the warmth and coziness of the home style, Chinese fusion restaurant.

"Huh. This is not at all what I expected." Jungkook looked around, pleased with himself.

You replicated that action.

The restaurant was designed to replicate someone's home, or garage. It had unique tables and chairs. No two items were the same. Even most of cutlery was different.

You appreciated the dedication to this concept.

"Good evening! Table for two?" A very familiar voice interrupted you.

Your head abruptly turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Joon!" You exclaimed, rushing over to throwing yourself into his personal space.

Surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, Jungkook raised a brow. This was the most chipper he'd ever seen you.

Jungkook and Namjoon knew each other.

Other than from your constant yapping, Namjoon knew of Jungkook because Jungkook was actively trying to pursue Namjoon, pleading for him to be Jungkook's musical mentor. However, Namjoon wouldn't budge.

Namjoon instantaneously engulfs your whole body with his arms, rubbing your back.

When Namjoon clearly looked at the man stood behind you, his eyes widened.

No way.

Is this why you went off-grid? Had you finally managed to bag Jeon Jungkook? Namjoon was too stunned to move.

Namjoon was just about to ask you about it when Jungkook speaks instead. "Table for two is right. Thanks."

You let go off Namjoon, confirming Jungkook's words.

Whatever. Namjoon will be blowing your phone up later either way. So, he decided to let you off the hook for the rest of the evening.

Namjoon cheekily smiles at the two of you as he leads you into an isolated booth.

It was a space behind some beaded curtains, giving the illusion of the space being more private.

The table was relatively smaller and surrounding it were three chairs; two regular wooden ones with soft cushions, and one loveseat.

Then, Namjoon abruptly left.

You didn't realize what Namjoon was doing until he returned with two menus and something that looked like a candle and a lighter.

Oh, no.

No. This was NOT happening.

You frown and awkwardly wait for him to set the table up and leave.

What? There's nothing you can do or say without overreacting! It's not like you WANT to wine and dine your friend's boyfriend.

(You totally do, but you would not pull something like that purposely.)

Jungkook seemed to just go with the flow, unbothered.

You promptly sat yourself on one of the wooden chairs and Jungkook opted to sit on the comfortable loveseat.

"So, how do you know Namjoon?" Jungkook wasted no time.

"We've been friends for a while." You continue, "Jia too. She knows him."

At that, Jungkook raises a brow. Jia knows Namjoon? Jungkook has mentioned Namjoon many times before. Jia never indicated that she knew him.

Still, he brushed it off.

"How do you know him?" You ask.

"Oh, he's like rhythm and poetry royalty. I've been sending this man emails for months begging him to mentor me... I can't believe Jia- It's so weird, finally seeing the guy who kept rejecting me." He cut himself off towards the end.

He can't believe Jia WHAT? Tell me. PLEASE.

You painstakingly push your annoyance away.

Instead you laugh, "I had no idea he was being pursued by students, wow."

"Yeah..." Jungkook giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

As the evening went on, you talked quite a bit. If he noticed, he didn't mind your awkwardness.

As if you were suddenly remembering something, you hummed. "I take it you didn't tell Jia about the... thing?" You struggled to find the right words to describe it.

Jungkook slowly nodded and repeated, "The... Thing."

"Yeah. You know, about you guys? Dating?" You press your legs together, a little anxious.

"Oh! Right!" He smiled in realization, "I actually did end up telling her about it that same night." He nodded, this time, positively.

You froze and your face dropped.

Had you been drinking something at that moment, you'd have spat that out. If you were eating at that moment, you'd have dropped your utensils on the floor.

"And then we talked about you for a while. I told her you gave me your word. I mean, I'm sure she already told you..." He continued.

Jia. She knows you know.

"Because she panicked..." Jungkook kept talking but at that point you had tuned him out.

Your mouth involuntarily formed a sad pout. Your eyes which were drying out from tiredness, slowly began to fill up with tears of... frustration, and anger, and confusion.

She knew.

She didn't even try to talk to you.

You assumed she was just busy.

But, she was actually just avoiding you. Just as you her.

Your eyes were glazed over.

The humiliation, guilt, anger and paranoia set in all at once.

Does this mean... Jungkook knows? Is he toying with you?

No. That's far-fetched. Way off. He'd never do that. He was so nice to you all night.

But, he IS a nice guy. Why wouldn't he be nice?

You're starting to make less sense now.

You don't even blink because if you do, your tears won't hold themselves back.

Jia fucking knew and avoided you on purpose. She couldn't face you. She fucking betray you, and she couldn't handle it. She didn't want to face it.

Jungkook sensed that there was something on your mind. "_____, is something wrong? Should I not have told her? What's going on?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't used to being impulsive. That was never you. But, lately, that streak was becoming increasingly steady.

So, you decided to open up. Like an idiot.

"It's me."

Jungkook nervously smiled, "It's you?"

"The 'creep' with the schoolgirl crush." You added.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned in, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity. "You? But... I don't understand."

He shook his head and stared at you, expecting you to keep going.

Great job, idiot.

You didn't have a choice now.

You took a deep breath and began to explain, "I had a crush on you, Jungkook. I have a crush on you. I've never been silent about it." You winced.

The tears. They're coming.

"I mean, I've never been silent about it with my friends. Including Jia."

The knot forming in your throat felt tighter.

Jungkook listened carefully, trying to make sense of this... revelation. "So, it was all a misunderstanding? There was never a 'creep'?" He reasoned.

You kept your eyes trained down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever. "I... No? I don't know." Your eyes were heavy with tears. Your nose began to sting.

You pressed your lips together to hold all the ugly sobs in, and squeezed your eyes shut.

"_____?" Jungkook questioned worriedly.

You furrowed your brows and frantically shook your head, "Jia. Everyone, my friends, everyone knew about it- that I liked you. From the day we met. The- it was like a mixer?" You slouch and let your arms fall to your sides, "I can't remember. I've liked you for so long..." You trail off silently shedding tears.

You inhale before letting out a little squeaky apology.

Jungkook only looks at you. He doesn't understand, or register anything.

"_____..." Jungkook begins.

"I didn't know Jia was your girlfriend. I'd always talk to her about you, and how good you looked on whatever, whenever- and how you, and then she..." Your shoulders begin to shake towards the end of your sentence. You fully began to cry.

Thank goodness you were separated from the rest of the restaurant-goers.

You were clearly unable to hold a conversation.

You wanted to bang your head on the table. Repeatedly.

Jungkook's brows almost touched his hairline.

"I'M the 'creep' she told you about. I'm the reason for... But I didn't know. I SWEAR. Until you told me. I knew then." You sniffle every two seconds. "I was going to tell you how I felt but then you- I'm sorry!" You finally broke down, sobbing into your hands.

"Hey. Just... breathe, okay?" You felt Jungkook shimmy out of his seat and back away from the table. He then walks over to you.

You already knew tomorrow's _____ was going to kill herself.

Jungkook pours you a glass of water.

He has no idea what to tell you.

He can't find the words to even begin to describe what he's feeling right now.

Jungkook's brain had stopped generating new thoughts. All he's thinking about is the crying girl in front of him, half-heartedly confessing her feelings for him.

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked down at you.

You are whom his girlfriend was worried about?

The same girl whom he hadn't stopped thinking about the past weeks.

The same girl who's his girlfriend's friend. His girlfriend.

His girlfriend who lied- hid things from him.

Had you planned this? Was Jia right to hide him away?

Jungkook really doesn't know what to think.

Jungkook needed to leave. He felt suffocated.

"_____, I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I... wish I had known the truth earlier." Jungkook solemnly spoke.

He hoped you believed him. He can't tell if you're in the right frame of mind to talk. He knows he sure isn't.

You sniffle harder, still appreciating his understanding. "I honestly just wanted to clear the air and be honestly honest with you...." You sigh deeply, speaking shakily. "I just thought... Maybe Jia would talk to me herself. And when she didn't--- I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Jungkook just stood by you, unmovingly. It was as if he himself was trying to figure out what to say.

After what felt like forever, you hesitantly lift your head up to look at Jungkook, "I understand if you'd want to leave now."

And you meant it. You couldn't force him to watch you cry like an idiot. So, you understandingly told him he had a free will, that he could walk away.

And he really did.

Jungkook stared down at your tear-stained face for a few seconds.

Then without uttering a single word, he slowly blinked at you and walked away.

Now, you stare at the back of his head, wide-eyed.

You didn't expect him to actually leave this instance.

I mean, he didn't owe you anything, but you still felt uneasy.

The rational part of you truly understood his choice. But the emotional part of you was destroyed.

Even though you have no right to feel this way, you're so disappointed. In him. In yourself. In Jia. You think that's well deserved though; your disappointment in Jia.

Did she hate you?

Nothing else mattered.

You don’t know it yet but the biggest burden had just been lifted off your shoulders.

(Until you face Jia. But, more on that later.)

And, as for Jia; Jia had enough time to come clean. This was not on you. It was all her.

#fic: for what it's worth #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts angst

[lincolndjarin]

fine art

javi gutierrez x moviestar!reader - installment #1 of sparrow's spectacles

main masterlist - other spectacles - kofi

summary : you were an up and coming actress, javi is your biggest fan, he'd do anything to have meet you.

word count : 3.9k

warnings, tags : dead dove do not eat, !! dark fic !! mdni 18+, noncon, stalker!javi, kidnapping, capture, stockholm syndrome, m&f masturbation, sex toys, briefly mentioned periods, exhibitionism, voyurism, so much internal thought processing regarding readers situation, briefly referenced suicide, reader is undescribed other than briefly being mentioned as young in her acting career, in my head she's late twenties, probs other tags i missed sorry. tldr: you have spent so much time with javi against your will that you unwillingly start fantasizing about him and give in to destructive urges in an attempt to escape him, everything is bad here.

a/n : is this stupid and probably bad? who knows, i have a terrible sense of self judgement lately so i'm just gonna post this and hope it's good. also can you tell that i blatantly stole the set from You LMAO. anyhow this is the first installment of my little 'horror' series. but it's less horror and more just odd little stories i wanted to write tbh

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

On days where you’re feeling particularly bored you list the things you can see. Unfortunately for you, your surroundings rarely change. Of course you could change that, if you asked him for something he’d give it to you, anything you wanted. Unless of course it was something he thought you could hurt yourself with or contact the outside world with. 

You didn’t often ask. 

Whenever you can have a conversation with him he always says the same thing. 

“If you stopped being so stubborn you might actually be happy.” 

“I would do anything for you.” “Then let me out.” “Anything but that.” 

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be. It isn’t an actual cage, it isn’t so bad.” 

So you don’t talk to him unless you have to. 

But some days you’re just so painfully, agonizingly, bored and you can’t help yourself. So you scream at him, or you pound on the unyielding plexiglass, or you hold your hand up against it, hoping he’ll touch the other side and you can briefly imagine yourself having physical contact with another human being. 

Sometimes you’ll even play his games. 

You’ll read the scripts he slides through the small square opening in the cage that can’t be more than a foot wide, and act out scenes with him simply because it gives you something to do and for fucks sake you’re desperate for something to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in him, if it wasn’t so easy you’d probably let yourself do it more often, thankfully, it’s so fucking scary. If you spend too much time in the box you’re worried that eventually you’ll forget that you aren’t a doll and you'll grow to like your box. So you do your damndest to maintain a wall between the two of you, but when that wall is glass it is destined to break eventually. So you scream and you fight until you get tired, and then you let the walls down as you rest, before returning to your struggle. And everytime you let the walls down they take longer to put back up. 

At the end of the day it never matters how you treat him, he loves you all the same. 

Even on days where you scream your throat raw and throw your furniture against the walls, if you ask him to get you takeout from your favorite restaurant, or watch a movie with you, he always will. You asked him about it once. Why didn't he just make you do what he wanted? Why didn’t he just make you obey? He had looked genuinely offended, as if he couldn’t believe you thought him capable of such a thing. 

And he told you that he loved you.

More than anything. 

That you were his most prized possession. 

That he would never do anything to hurt you, it would be like if he were angry and he threw a priceless vase, the only person it would hurt is himself. 

You had nodded as if he was making any sense and you’d turned back to the movie he’d picked out. 

You were a vase. 

You were a collectible. 

A priceless, collectable. He kept you in perfect condition and never took you out of the box. Not even to play with you himself. A small, rather demented part of you, is starting to wish that he would. Of course you don’t want him to force himself upon you, you aren’t that far gone. (Yet.) But it’s been so long since you’ve touched another person. You would give your left arm just to be held. If your calendar serves you well, it’s been just over two years since you last saw someone who wasn’t Javi. 

And Javi wouldn’t touch you. 

Not ever. You were too perfect to be defiled in such a way. He would sometimes hold his hand against the glass when you held up your own, he even kissed you through it once. (Although it had been rather awkward and neither one of you ever talked about it again.) But he never touched you. 

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d met Javi in a social setting. He is rather handsome, and though you hate to admit it, when he isn’t leering he’s almost charming. 

Almost.

Everyday you slip further into the fantasy where Javi does something to break up the monotony. Is that his goal? To make you so desperate for human connection that you eventually snap and beg him to touch you? You shudder as you wonder how long that would take. After the first year you stopped wondering what would happen when he got bored of you. You know deep down that that will never happen. If anything his devotion  for you only continues to grow with each passing day. If it’s possible he probably loves you more now then he did at the start of your stay here. Despite everything he takes care of you, in his own strange sort of way. 

Like how he tracks your cycle, always making sure you have anything you need on those days. Sometimes he even knows it’s starting before you do, he’ll bring you baskets with blankets and candy and any other little trinket or gift he saw that made him think of you. 

Jewelry, little plush toys, and books. Anything to try and make you feel anything other than the misery that constantly loomed over you as you waited for his next visit. He never goes more than a few days without seeing you and he always apologizes when he does. He returns with your favorite shampoo or lotion to make it up to you, but it never really changes how you feel about him. It’s nice to fantasize a world in which you enjoy your only source of company but you’re careful to never let that fantasy bleed into reality. 

If he were actually your partner you’d have locked him down ages ago. A part of you knows that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you though. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, you’re much more than that. You’re more like a goddess in a cage to him than an actual human being. A beloved pet bird. It’s clear he feels something more than simple love for you. It’s a devotion, a conscious effort to worship you. 

You are to be kept in pristine condition. 

Of course that doesn’t mean he can’t look. 

Two and a half years. 

That’s how long it took for the looking to escalate into something more. You were watching a movie. 

50 First Dates

You had picked it out, Javi liked action movies but would never complain when you wanted to watch a rom-com. You were on your bed, curled up under the blankets in a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t worn makeup since he took you, you rarely brushed your hair, you never put much thought into your appearance, and Javi wouldn’t give you a mirror. 

You had one, a long time ago. Within the first week you’d smashed it, threatening to slit your own throat if he didn’t let you out. All that resulted in was you no longer being allowed to have breakables. Plastic cutlery and paper plates were wordlessly passed to you from that point forward.

You had been watching in silence, he sat on the couch outside the cage like he always did and it wasn’t until you heard a shuddering groan that you turned around to see him kneeling beside the cage, one hand pressed up against the glass, steadying himself, the other wrapped around his cock.  

You were frozen in place. 

What are you supposed to do in that situation? 

You watched, slack jawed as he took his time. His gaze made you feel naked, like he could see through the layers of blankets and baggy clothing. 

He had looked you in the eye when he finished. Briefly staring wide eyed before his eyes squeezed shut and with a long, drawn out moan and a strained cry of your name. His cum painted the glass and before you could form any sort of response he was already stuffing himself back into his pants and standing. You want to say something, anything. Something to hold him accountable for what he just did, but you can’t think of anything, and he’s already leaving. 

Before you can even blink he’s gone, without so much as a glance in your direction. And you’re left alone, in the lamp light, unable to escape the sight of his filth on the glass. Covering your head with a blanket as you waited for it to be late enough for the power to cut out and leave you in a safe, and comfortable darkness. 

A part of you hoped that the white speckles would be gone when you woke up but you weren’t that lucky. 

You faced away from that wall, with your head buried in a book until you looked at the clock and knew it was almost time to face him again. When he returned he had an aura of shame around himself, his arms were full of grocery bags and his eyes were red rimmed and teary. 

“I’m so sorry- I just- I love you so much, I don’t know what came over me.” If this was a normal relationship and the two of you had maybe gotten into an argument or something you would have forgiven him. After all he looked genuinely remorseful as he stared at you, going through the bags before setting down several takeout containers with labels you recognized. He had gone out and gotten all your favorites. Your favorite fast food place, as well as a high end chinese restaurant you loved for special occasions, and a clear plastic case with a slice of your favorite flavored cake from a small bakery near your apartment that you frequented. (You’d never asked him to get you anything from there before, you’d never even mentioned the place to him.) 

Through his mumbled apologies he set down your favorite bubble tea flavor and a water bottle. 

He had passed everything to you through the opening in the cage with trembling hands as he sniffled. Once you had everything he sprayed the drying remnants of his release with Windex, pulling several paper towels off the roll and wiping it until it was as if it never happened. By the time he was finished his cheeks were red and big tears rolled down his face. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before you can stop yourself you’re comforting him, as if he’s the victim in this situation. 

“It’s not okay, I don’t want you to think that that’s why you’re here.” He mumbles sadly, letting his forehead hit the glass. Through your disgust for your own words you sense something else.

Opportunity. 

The only chance you’re going to get for escape involves him unlocking the door. Something he hasn’t done since he put you in here in the first place. You’ve tried in the past. Not often, there weren’t very many chances, you had everything you needed here, running water and a bathroom, any other sustenance was provided by him through the little opening. There was so rarely an opportunity, and when there were he always anticipated your plans before you got to put them into motion. But you’ve never tried deception. You think you would have, considering you’re an actress but it had never crossed your mind until just now. You can’t half ass this though. If you decide to do this you will get one chance to do it right. 

Go big or go home. 

“No really, it’s okay. It’s sort of… flattering.” His face drops the second you say it and regret starts creeping in. You’re going to die here. He’s going to keep you here until the day you die and no one will ever know what happened to you. A young starlight, taken out in her prime. 

“It’s not, it’s disgusting.” He tosses the paper towels away, sniffling to himself as he stands with his hands clasped in front of him, swaying anxiously back and forth. You take a seat on your bed across from him, fighting the urge to put your hand on the glass. You don’t want to lay it on too thick, he’ll see right through that. 

“It’s fine, it’s- it’s natural.” You’re struggling to find the right words that make it feel real. At one point you were a rather talented actress but you’re out of practice. “Seriously. Especially from you. It’s really sweet.” Fuck, are you doing too much?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he chews his lip as he stares at you, you can tell he’s skeptical. He should be. You so rarely speak to him and when you do it’s never to be kind. 

“Actions speak louder than words.” 

Someone said that in a movie Javi picked, you had sat and let him read the scene to you afterwards. 

He wants an actress, you can give him that. You can perform, as long as that’s all it is. If it’s a performance you can keep your wall up. You stumble off the bed, your legs feeling like jelly as you pull open the drawer on your nightstand. 

This plan feels stupider by the minute but you need to commit.

He didn’t gift you sex toys the way he did with other little things to make you happier. But they were always just sort of there. In their original packaging, shoved in your nightstand drawer with a few batteries he’d left as well, they’d been here when you woke up in the cage. You doubt you’ll be able to relax enough to do this without a little help, and you have to be convincing. If you aren’t believable he’s unlikely to trust you in the future. If you fuck this up now you’ll never get another chance. 

It’s a pale pink rabbit. You’d probably never buy something like it for yourself, it looks… expensive. The silicone is smooth against your fingers as you rip open the packaging, twisting the base open to pop in two batteries. Rushing in an attempt to not lose your nerve. When you gather your courage you risk a glance up at him, just fast enough to watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

So he does want this. 

Good. 

Pressing the button on the toy makes it buzz to life.  

Okay. 

This isn’t so bad. It’s just masturbating, if you do this for him you can take advantage of the obvious attraction he has for you. Even if it doesn’t work immediately, eventually this ends with him letting you out, or at the very least letting himself in, which is all you need. 

So you get back into bed, and you lean on a stack of pillows before really focusing on him. 

And you ask him the question he didn’t bother to ask you.

“Is this okay?” You hope the trembling in your voice comes off as endearing. 

His throat bobs as he nods. Maybe he doesn’t mind that you’ve been laying it on a little thick. Maybe you’ve denied him your affections for so long that he doesn’t want to risk rejecting any advance from you. No matter how out of the blue it seems/.

You push your sweats down to your ankles before kicking them off the bed. No time for embarrassment or regret now, if he senses hesitation none of this will be worth it. He’s moved to be sitting on the couch directly outside the cage now. His knees pressed together as he sits with his hands in his lap, looking almost comically polite. 

No sense putting off the inevitable. 

It’s been a while, there’s a camera in the corner of the cage so you don’t masturbate often, and when you do it’s late at night, once the lights are off and you can hide under your blanket. You can’t do that now though, that would defeat the purpose. 

You leave the toy off as you shove it down the front of your panties. Pressing the soft head of it against your slit, finding it surprisingly easy to tease your entrance with it. 

Are you wet? 

It’s been a while, that’s why. 

Javi certainly hasn’t wasted any time. If he were sitting any closer he’d be fogging up the glass, his hand is shoved down his pants, his face already flushed red. His usual rigid posture is lost as he leans back into the couch cushions, refusing to tear his eyes off of you. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you push the toy into you, holding back a gasp as you swallow. At least it feels sort of good. Good enough to make you wish you’d swallowed your pride and used this before today. 

Your body moves instinctually as your free hand reaches forward to push your panties down and turn the vibe on in one motion, the silicone attachment pressing against your clit as you press the toy deeper into your pussy. It’s a little too easy to relax suddenly. Javi now slowly strokes himself, his cock in his hand, looking painfully hard as he squeezes the base of his shaft, almost as if he’s scared of blowing his load too soon. 

Good. 

The less time it takes the better. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you angle the toy, letting the tip of it brush against your g-spot and drawing an authentic moan from you. Fighting the urge to cover your mouth in surprise, you repeat the motion. The combination of sensations making your toes curl and your back arch into the mattress. 

“Fuck-” Your voice catches in your throat, your fingers twitch against the button to turn the vibrations up a level. 

Once you find your rhythm it’s easy to forget about the nerves and what’s at stake. It’s easy to get lost in the sensation and the sight of Javi shuddering as he gasps. It’s easy to focus on the attractive parts of him for a brief moment, to make things easier. And it’s easy to wonder if his cock would feel better than the toy that hums and makes your body tense up deliciously. 

It’s actually terrifying how easy it is. 

It’s enough to make you horrified for just a split second. He wasn’t lying when he said you could be happy if you stopped fighting. Twisted into the pleasure you’re feeling is something else. Relief. Relief for the peace you find when you stop fighting him. You could feel this good all the time if you wanted, you and Javi could have your favorite food for dinner, you could watch your favorite movies, and act out your favorite scenes. 

You could feel good. 

You could have nights like these where you watch him jerk off his pretty, thick cock and know that someone loves you enough to take care of you like this. You could let him buy you pretty things and toys that make you feel so so so good. 

And that thought terrifies you. 

If you stayed in this cage you would eventually become entirely complacent. 

It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next year, but eventually.

You will be happy to flutter about your cage once you’ve forgotten how to fly. 

His pretty little bird. 

It’s your orgasm that snaps you out of that living nightmare. You hadn’t even realized you’d still been fucking the toy, pleasuring yourself to that little daydream. This wasn’t a good idea and you shouldn’t have done it but it’s too late for that now especially when you’re groaning out his name as you remove the still buzzing toy, now slick with your wetness. Javi’s eyes are wide as he clearly can’t hold back any longer as he dirties his shirt and pants with his own release. 

As you quickly reach for the toy, turning it off, you pull your panties up in a hurry. Maybe you should push your luck and ask him to come into the cage now. A sense of dread is settling in your stomach as you realize that you can’t be here much longer, who knows how quickly you’ll crumble if you keep letting yourself do this. It’s best to make this a swift process where you don’t have any more time to sink into the hell that is acceptance of these four glass walls. 

You’re about to do it. About to tell him that he should join you, that it would feel better for the both of you if he was in the cage as well but you don’t get a chance to as he zips his pants back up.

“Go to bed, when you’re asleep I’m gonna leave you a gift.” He stands abruptly, giving you a reassuring smile before pressing his hand up to the glass. You don’t hesitate to crawl up the length of the bed and press your own to his, it’s brief but you can feel the connection here. 

This is just the beginning. 

After today you’ll put more effort in. You’ll make it happen and you’ll make it happen fast. You can put the time and effort in, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’ll convince him that it’s real before you lose yourself entirely and when the day finally comes where he opens the door you won’t waste the opportunity. 

You’ll leave your room. 

You can figure out the logistics of it later but for now you take the sleeping pill he slides through the opening every night he visits. You don’t usually take it but you need sleep and this will be easier if he thinks you’re compliant. With a sip of your drink the little pill goes down and your eyes close. 

And you dream that you’re a bird, flying through a blue sky.  

You sleep better than you ever have before in the cage. 

Until you wake, the lamp being on is the only indicator you have that it’s daytime. Your hair stands on end as you sit up. He was here. Things have been moved, little things, noticeable things. Your empty drink is tossed in the bin and it smells of cleaning supplies. He doesn’t ever come inside the cage, that goes against everything he tells you. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out what’s different. How long were you out? The pills have never made you feel this fuzzy before on the rare occasions that you’ve taken them, you do your best to focus but it’s difficult when everything’s so muddled. So you do the one thing you know will clear your head and you list the things you see. 

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Something’s wrong, different. 

He said he was going to give you a gift. What the fuck did he do? Did he leave it in here? Was it too big to fit through the opening? Is that why he came into the cage? 

You don’t catch it immediately, but there is a note taped to the inside of the glass. 

I knew you’d learn to be happy : ) 

See you tonight.

Love, Javi 

You look back around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Oh. 

i no longer have a tag list, follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on my writing!!

#lincolndjarin #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javier gutierrez #javi g fanfiction #pedro pascal #dead dove do not eat #tw noncon

[snowberrycherry]

Your fic about sucking könig off? EXCUSE ME??? HES SO FUCKING HOT AND BIG AND SHY I WANT TO CORRUPT HIM please could you write something for that? Like a reader who’s a dominant badass and he just wants her to fuck him up?

Up to equal

parings: könig x fem!reader

warnings: smut, hes a virgin, facesitting, edging, unprotected sex, everything is consensual, mdni

[a/n] we r editing this tmr morning and to the angel that requested rhis im so eo soso sorry this took so long lovvve u best frienf💋🐵

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

He had no idea how he had gotten himself into this .

Over the most pathetic mistake too.

The constant staring had been enough to push you over the edge, so you decided to say something. You had practically dragged him back to your room. As he kept up with your fast pace, he knew what you were going to say. Even he knew it was obvious, blatantly looking at you, only daring to look away when you met his longing gaze. demanding an explanation as to why. how was he going to admit how he truly felt? Not even 24 hours ago, not a full day had passed where he was perfectly fine gazing at you whenever the chance was presented. He was okay with using just his hand to get himself off every once in a while, not minding he hadn't been with anyone. Sometimes he would even imagine it was you whom he was with late at night teaching him everything and anything. Taking his virginity in the best way viable, however you wanted him, König couldn’t care less.

But never in a million years could he have imagined this. The slam of the door shook him back to reality, “Do you have a problem with me?” Your eyes narrowed as he paused, scrambling to find the right words. “No I don’t …can I ask why?” The warmth on his neck worsened with guilt by the second. “Your always fucking staring it me and it’s getting really creepy”.

König looked down at his shoes, ashamed, but something felt different. This was the longest conversation he had ever had with you and it was so dangerously thrilling. He could feel his pants to become tighter, blood rushing right down to his crotch. He awkwardly placed his hands right in front of himself, figuring it wouldn’t be too noticeable yet.

Never was he more wrong, his heart dropped when he heard your next words, “No way”. His eyes shot wide open as you pushed his hands away, revealing his noticeable aching cock. Words weren’t even able to come out as he hastily turned to leave, on the verge of crying from the humiliation. His finger tips just barley grazed the handle, ready to run and hide when you spoke up, “You should stay”.

He froze in place, not even sure if he had heard your correctly. “What?” his voice was weaker than he intended it to be. “Stay.” He spun back around to face you, rather bewildered, “Why?” He watched in dismay as you confidently walked over to him, standing right in front of him. “Because you have the prettiest lips and I want to feel them on me”.

He had never eaten someone out, but he knew he would try his hardest to make you feel good. “Please god yes” he frantically whined. You took his one of his rough hands and led him over to your bed. Cautiously, he laid back and watched incredulity as you peeled off your pants along with your soaked panties, and gradually started to crawl up his body, hovering right over his lips. His breath got stuck in his throat when he finally realized how close you truly were, your pussy so close to his mouth that if he really desired to, he could lean up and finally taste you, something he had fantasized about for so long.

“Be good for me?” you whispered feeling his hot breath all over you as he eagerly waited for you to sit down right on his face. He moaned a shallow ‘yes’ moving his hands towards his dick, impatiently waiting to relieve the tension in his pants. “Good” you plainly said, pressing your cunt right onto his mouth. A noise escaped from him in shock at your sudden movement but quickly came to reality when he cautiously stuck his tongue out to take his first lick. In another universe he was definitely crying with how sweet you tasted, it took every bit of energy to not do so in this dimension. His laps were a bit inexperienced and timid at first, not fully firm enough to emit any sort of pleasure, but he quickly got the memo when you pushed down even further onto his wet mouth. He greedily hummed into you circling messy patterns all over your cunt. He looked up to see your face hazed with lust that told him he was doing a good job. He shook his face faster into you, juices smearing all over his chin, his nose hitting your clit at a delicious speed. He couldn't control his hands anymore as they traveled down to his cock, palming at it so desperately that he started to softly moan. He could tell you were close by your hips grinding faster onto his tongue and the grip you had on his hair, guiding his mouth right at your hole was a definite sign. He had never made someone cum before let alone just with his tongue… he wanted it so bad. Just when he envisioned what you would taste like you pulled your hips away from his impatient face.

He sobbed at the missing sensation,but he could feel his lower stomach muscles tense, seeing bright stars as he reached his climax in pure ecstasy. His cum flowed out, making the fabric a deep blue color. His cheeks went immediately bright red when he fully comprehended what he had done.

He came just by eating pussy and his now stained jeans were authentic proof. He covered his face with his hands, dreading to face the consequences. Was he a virgin? you thought, it was that or he hadn’t been laid in quite some time. “Is this your first time?”. He hummed a swift yes, still strung off of mortification. However, it faded away fast when he felt your body mover off of his upper half, down towards his lower section. He quickly uncovered his eyes and watched as you slid down so your sopping cunt was right on his clothed leaking cock. “Can I?” you asked trailing your fingers over the band of his pants, batting your eyelashes at him so innocently for such a filthy act. And it only turned him on more.

He shook his head up and down once, internally fulfilled that you would be the first person ever to truly ruin him. You smiled practically tearing his pants off along with his underwear revealing his throbbing cock. König watched as your mouth gaped open in shock when you saw how big he was. It only made him more elated. His hips stuttered when your hand came in contact with him gently jerking him up and down. “Aw, you gonna come again?” the fake pout on your lips drove him crazy. No, he promised to himself, but the precum that glistened on his tip refuted his vow. You swiftly straddled his hips lining him up at your dripping entrance, causing him to cry out while gripping at the blankets so tight his knuckles turned white. He felt your hand slap down over his mouth followed by a faint ‘Shh’. Your voice seems deeper, covered in lust and arousal. He let out a shaky groan as you slowly sunk down on him, filling you up to the fullest you had ever been. Biting your lip the pain slowly ebbed into bliss and you began to rock back and forth on him.

He was in paradise. As much as he tried to cry out, your hand muffled the sounds causing you to try not to giggle. “You’ll be quiet?” you lightly questioned . He shook his head again, eyes widened with exhilaration. You removed your hand and his voice trembled, “I promise just keep f-fucking me”. The sinful and dirty saying only edged you on. You grinding faster on him while you watched the man crumble beneath you brought a never-ending satisfaction. “I think I’m going to cum again i’m so sorry” he whined, attempting to thrust into you at a faster speed, touching wherever his hands could reach, memorizing your body at this moment. He was so close to the edge, so close to falling apart underneath you when all movement froze, entirely ceasing, cutting off his source of euphoria. He let out a wail, hot tears streaming down his face, “What?” You leaned forward closer to his face, “Do you think you earned it?” So many thoughts raced through his head, it was a yes or no question but which one? Unsure and hesitant, he decided to answer with what his selfish soul was persuading him to do. “Yes”. he whispered, hoping to his lucky stars he made the correct choice. He watched intently at your facial expression change into a sweet grin.

“Good boy” and you sat back down on him. He moaned at your warm cunt enveloping him once more. His entire body was sensitive, his skin beaded with sweat, eyes puffy and red, but König never felt more alive.

#könig cod #könig x reader #könig x you #könig smut #cod mw2 #cod smut #könig #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare

[ingravinoveritas]

suzypfonne replied to your post "The level of my absolute rage right now at the…"

Also, no one owes anyone that perceived fuckability. It's fine to find someone attractive and even find yourself fantasizing but it's not owed to you. They did an excellent job making him look like the doomed prince.

This is such a good point, and I could not agree more. (Although ftr, "the doomed prince" always makes me think of Hamlet, and god knows Michael was far more attractive in that role. Haha.)

But I think what you said is part of why the comments bother me so much. It's that it becomes blatantly clear that these fans only cared about Michael as long as he remained what they perceived as "fuckable"--that regardless of whether they wanted to have sex with him, he is seen as more "acceptable" overall when he looks a certain way and less so when he doesn't. I think Anna's snarky comments about Michael's appearance over the years have bothered me for a similar reason, because they also speak to her only finding him attractive when he looks a certain way.

Again, this is not to say that Michael has to look fuckable at all times, but it's clearly something that AL places value on the way the fans do, though in her case, it's because she can use it as something to brag about. So that's why we won't see her make a post to the effect of "So proud of him for taking on this difficult role," because she knows no one is going to want to fuck Michael while he looks like Prince Andrew. Her disapproving of his looks while taking on a specific role is nothing new, as she did the same thing when he played Chris Tarrant in Quiz, but it also gives an indication that she and the fans are on the same level of maturity, which again goes back to those Twitter comments striking such a nerve in me.

Michael is an actor. His job is to act, to become and embody whatever role he is playing to the best of his ability. Some people seem to think that acting is only about being glamorous, but if we are going to express outrage when the media and others make remarks about Charlize Theron "uglying it up" to play Aileen Wuornos when all she was doing was her job, then we should be just as outraged at people attacking Michael for looking "ugly" for doing his. (Also, the fact that Monster came out in 2003 and we still need to have this same conversation twenty fucking years later is utterly depressing...)

All this to say that yes, attractiveness and sex appeal/charisma can be and often are important parts of what makes an actor bankable, but looks alone do not make someone a talented actor, nor a good person. And maybe if people looked beyond the surface of their own desires, they might start to realize that...

#suzypfonne #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #a very royal scandal #i can't even with this nonsense #also making me think of how the fans insulted Michael and uplifted Anna when those red carpet pics came out #echoes of 'she's Barbie and he's just Ken' #when you look at her comments and then at the fans things start to make a kind of unfortunate sense #and so does Michael turning to David for emotional support #and the friction between him and AL that has been palpable for a while now #fandom woes #anna lundberg #thoughts #discourse

[amxliasxgarbxby]

I HATE NBC HANNIBAL!!

However unpopular an opinion this may be, I had to come out and say it. NBC Hannibal is a plotless, senseless, brainless pile of trash. The plotline is boring at best and the dialogues are so strange and complicated that they are completely impossible to understand.

Also, the way the police force and FBI are depicted is completely inaccurate and quite frankly, offensive! How can they be so fucking oblivious to hannibal being the killer the entire time? Completely unrealistic if you ask me. All the signs were there! Hannibal the Cannibal?? Were these people blinded by Hannibal's overwhelming hotness or something? cause I can't find any other plausible explanation for how incompetent the entire force was in catching this homicidal homosexual.

Second of all, what the fuck is with the weird gay telepathy shit all throughout this show?? Take Will's therapy sessions, for example. Not a moment goes by without one of them finishing the other one's overly elaborate sentence that is usually a gay metaphor about the gay sex that they always seem to be a second away from having!!

And god forbid that Hannibal should even try to tear his gaze away from Will's fat ass!! I can't blame him either, with Will posing in front of him like a school girl in front of her crush while venting about his trauma... It's all so unnecessarily homoerotic!! If Hannibal did decide to stop cannibalising Will's ass with his eyes, the Intense eye-sex between them would never stop!! "Not fond of eye contact!!" "Eyes are distracting" MY ASS!!! you guys can't even draw the line at staring at each other and flirting in your gay metaphor language at crime scenes!! With poor Jack to witness it all!!

And another thing, what is it with the fucking cooking scenes?? Why do they have to make the fucking human body parts look so fucking delicious?? This is propaganda to turn us all into cannibals!! GAY cannibals!! I've never been more inclined to eat a human fucking calf in my fucking life! What is this sin of a television series...

Even without preparation, Will's ass was making me almost give in to those cannibalistic tendencies this sinful show inflicted on me!

On the same topic of glorifying cannibalism, let's mention the scene where Will brings Hannibal human meat GIFT WRAPPED and they stare at each other some more, hands grazing each other. What is this blatantly gay murderous shit?? Then they cook together. Well forget "cooking" you might as well call that COCKING cause they were ready to do just that all over the worktop, human meat in fact exposed. Not to mention that this happens not too long after Will fantasizes about straddling Hannibal and beating the shit out of him in one form or another. THESE MURDEROUS GAYS HAVE TO BE STOPPED.

And DON'T get me started on the scene at Mason Verger's where hannibal is NAKED in a CAGE wearing a COLLAR. again with the obscene encouragements. Do you WANT us to chain up hot old men? Be tied up ourselves? He had no business looking so good taking that shit off. This is devilish temptation. A sin above all others. Stop it.

Also? Why give the Wendigo Hannibal's face?? Do you WANT us to find that shit hot as well?? We know Will sure did, given that he thought about it during... A particular moment of pleasure....

The most offensive part of this all, however, is that I had to endure all of this constant eye-sex,, gay metaphors about caterpillars, hallucinatory wet dreams and various different penetrations of each other with weapons for them only to NOT KISS ON THE FINALE???

For that, I say, fuck you Bryan Fuller.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate NBC Hannibal!!!

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal and will #shitpost #cannibals #what the fuck #vent #murderous gays #homicidal homosexual #Wills fat ass #send help

[pastelwitchling]

This was easily the best episode in the entire season. It’s amazing how good the show gets when it focuses on the aliens and the couples with actual chemistry. I’ll get more into that though in my thoughts on 4x12.

I skipped all the scenes with Liz and Maria. The show comes to such a halt when it’s focusing on them instead of malex or the pod squad. Sorry, but that’s how I feel. The one time I did cheer out loud at a Maria scene was the bait and switch. Well done, I must say.

I actually got emotional at Tezca’s death scene, I thought that was done really well. I loved seeing Max and Isobel fight, it’s so awesome. Honestly, I feel like this show should’ve gone the Supernatural route, and just had it focus on Max and Isobel’s relationship. (Well, if we’re fantasizing, I wish it had focused on malex, but you know what I mean.)

And speaking of Max, who was a total badass this episode, thank you for letting him be the alien he is, but they’re really trying to hammer in how meaningful his relationship with Liz is, and all I could think was, Seriously? Those moments in the end when Tezca told him to just think of seeing Liz again, I’m just here thinking that that wouldn’t be nearly enough motivation. They really do hardly seem to even like each other, and something kind of big occurred to me this season, and don’t bite my head off, but echo doesn’t really have much chemistry.

I mean, holy cannoli, look at the chemistry between Tyler and Vlamis. The kind that even though they spent so much of the show separated, you still felt their relationship. Or what about kybel even? Whose scenes I did also skip though. They weren’t even together for most of the show, but when there were hints of it, everyone was excited because they had so much chemistry. I honestly think Max and Cam had more chemistry, and I don’t even want them to date! I think I’ve figured out why. It’s the same issue I have with so many other stories, too.

A couple stops having any potential for chemistry when the entirety of their relationship is just one person praising the other for their genius and how amazing they are, while that person gets crapped on for really no good reason. There’s a huge power imbalance, and it’s telling me about a character’s personality instead of showing it to me. Worse, it’s telling me and then showing me the exact opposite. I don’t think echo has any chemistry because there’s no give and take with their relationship. Liz is perfect, everything is Max’s fault, rinse, repeat.

Well, this episode showed how amazing Max and Isobel working together was, and I honestly couldn’t have cared less about what was going on with Liz. I’m glad Rosa was there though, seeing her made me smile.

I’m also glad that Tyler, Michael, and I can all agree that using the ship name in the show is stupid. I don’t have any strong feelings about it in particular, I just thought it was weird. Also, just to be bitter for a second, it seemed like an attempt on the writers’ part to connect to the fanbase and show how important malex is to them, which makes sense given their usual brilliant ideas on showing how important malex is. Praising season 2 for being about malex, calling an episode ‘one for the malex fans’ when Alex isn’t even in it, never showing Michael missing Alex or anyone acknowledging how his absence affects Michael, and now the ship name on a banner. Yeah. That fits.

Anyway. The escape scene from the storm was so cool, I loved the way Isobel and Max specifically stayed with Alex and cared about him. My heart’s going to burst, I’m going to die, I loved it.

I cannot begin to say how (pardon my language) fucking awesome Alex and malex were this episode. Alex saved everyone, we all agree, yes? If he hadn’t been his Air Force captain self, and told Michael to pull it together and think, Michael wouldn’t have thought of the one thing that saved them. Alex was the hero, surprise surprise, and anyone who says otherwise is blatantly ignoring the facts. This feels like season 3, to be honest, where Alex’s behind the scenes work on the Lockhart Machine once again saved the day, but this time everyone has to acknowledge it.

I almost didn’t post my thoughts, I thought I wouldn’t know where to start or what to really say. I do want to give a heads up for next week. I don’t know if I will post my thoughts, but I will push myself to do it as best I can. Still, they might come a little late, but I’m sure you can understand that. Okay. Back to writing my malex teen au.

Till next time.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #rnm 4x12 #rnm thoughts #anti liz ortecho #anti maria deluca #roswell new mexico #roswell nm

[juicycoutureheaux]

When it’s Over

Chapter 2: Give ‘em Hell Kid

Hey y’all, this is Chapter 2 of my Chris Redfield x OC fic. Again, the OC does have a backstory, but this was initially meant to be Chris x Reader. So it kind of reads as such hence the tags. More chapters of this fic are on Ao3, but I’m cross posting here for shits and giggles. Thanks y’all ♥️

Captain Redfield & Anna just continued in silence deeper into the mine.

Anna was trying her best to continue to be professional, but the truth was she was scared shitless and couldn’t have been able to speak regardless.

All that could be heard was the sounds of their breathing through the rebreathers. She was so thankful the geniuses in combat equipment development were so thorough.

She made a mental note that if she got out alive, she would bring them donuts and coffee the next time she was at the base.

She was so lost in fantasizing about being back at HQ she almost bumped into Chris when he stopped abruptly.

They were now in what seemed like a holding area of sorts. That's when she saw what Chris had stopped for; it was another one of the missing soldiers.

“You Ok in there?” Chris said to the soldier.

The soldier looked up so weakly, it was almost like he couldn’t lift his head at all.

“Redfield is that you?”

“We're gonna get the key and get you out of there. Don’t worry.”

Anna was ready to get the key and get the soldier the fuck out of there. At this point she didn’t care about apprehending Lucas, she just wanted her comrade to live.

“Captain Redfield, I think I see something down here!” She said into her mic.

The sight was strange, it was in a crate labeled blatantly “key”.

“This is a game he wants us to play into, but why?” she thought out loud.

That's when she heard something quickly shuffle behind her. It was one of the molded. It let out a disgusting screech and went to strike her. She was able to move out of the way in time and shoot it directly in the head. The monstrous form disintegrated right in front of her.

Damn, she was fucking lucky. She wasn’t sure if it was pure adrenaline that had her shot right, or if St.Barbara was looking out for her dumbass; either way, she was thankful.

“Nice shot Connolly,” She heard Chris remark. “I was worried they had sent me another rookie. Looks like I was wrong.”

“Thank you so much, Captain, that makes me feel SO secure in my superiors' choice to send me down here.” She said sarcastically.

Chris laughed at her comment. He was very accustomed to the BSAA deploying soldiers into dangerous situations blindly; hence, why they were here.

The light-hearted moment was short-lived of course. More of the mold started to ambush them and the once dead silent cavern was filled with gunfire.

When they finally subdued enough of them, they scoped out the surrounding area to find any more clues to see what the “key box” was attached to. They both decided there was no other choice but to approach it.

That's when Chris moved to grab the key from the cart, the box quickly retracted into the air.

“Shit!” They both said in unison.

“It’s attached to that pulley over there!” Anna motioned to the device.

Captain Redfield moved closer to investigate. “It’s missing the lever, we gotta find it.”

Anna moved frantically to find the missing piece, praying no more molded would try to ambush her or Captain Redfield in the process.

She found it.

“Good job Connolly!” Chris praised.

She ran the lever over and Captain Redfield quickly rigged it up.

“All right, I’ll pull this thing up and you grab the key!” Chris ordered.

“Yes sir!” She happily obliged.

As soon as Chris started to work the pulley, a massive white creature started to make its way toward them.

“Connolly, MOVE!” Chris shouted at her.

She felt frozen in fear, but she managed to move her legs enough to fall back. They tried using their weapons against the monster, but it was useless.

“What the fuck are we looking at?” Chris spoke to HQ.

“I’m not sure, this must be new. Exercise extreme caution.” HQ responded.

“Captain Redfield, she’s right. It’s regenerating too fast.” Anna panicked. “There have to be some RAMRODS down here to subdue this fucker.”

“Let’s find out,” Chris responded in a calm tone.

How could he be so cool at a time like this? Blue Umbrella had no clue what this thing was and if the RAMRODS didn’t work, they were shit-out-of-luck.

The two busted into what looked like a storage area, searching through the shelves quickly.

“I think I found it?” Chris motioned for her to come over. She was able to read the label “Rapid-Acting Mycetotoxic Rounds”.

“Yup, this is certainly it.” She sighed. “We have to use these sparingly.” She assured him.

“Understood, ma’am.”

Chris led them back to the area with the huge white monster.

It was making its way slowly to them. “Here goes nothing.”

He threw the round at the beast and it screamed in pain, Anna then took her chances and emptied a clip into the mold. It shrieked one last time before liquifying onto the ground.

“Might as well multitask while we’re here,” Anna said as she plucked a specimen container from one of her tactical pockets and collected the fungus.

Chris looked curiously at her.

She understood his confusion and responded with “They didn’t let you know? I usually work in a lab analyzing this stuff, not battling them face to face.”

“Great thinking ahead on collecting the specimen Connolly,” HQ said to her. “We can use it for further research.”

Chris only shook his head “Let’s go and grab that key before Lucas can cause any more trouble for us.”

Anna agreed silently and they went back to free the soldier.

“It’s over now, we’re here to save you.” Chris tried to assure him.

“You shouldn’t have come back, I’m the bait and you fell for it.” The soldier wheezed out.

“Don’t talk like that, we’re here now. We’re going to get you out of here.” Anna tried to assure him.

That’s when the saw above his head whirred to life and made its descent to the soldier’s neck.

Anna panicked and tried to cut him free from his bondage while Chris tried to shoot the saw, but their attempts were futile.

The soldier’s blood splattered on her helmet. She was frozen in place.

Lucas’s voice filled the once-silent room. “Looks like y’all were too late! Oh well!”

Anna was silent, but she wanted to scream and retaliate back at him. She knew it would be useless, it was what he wanted.

She was broken out of her thoughts when she heard Captain Redfield’s labored breathing.

“Captain! You have to take his ventilator! Yours seems to be malfunctioning!” she panicked. “You can’t leave me down here!”

She apologized to the deceased soldier and made the sign of the cross over herself as she plucked the ventilator from his mask. She prayed wherever he was he was at peace. She handed the ventilator to her Captain and he quickly installed it into his mask.

“Thanks for thinking straight, Connolly,” Chris mumbled.

“If it was me, I would want someone alive to use it. Remember that!” she laughed

“Don’t talk like that Connolly, your sister needs you alive to give another saint to.” Chris quipped back.

She was so thankful for the visor at this point, not for the protection, but for the sheer fact, it was hiding her blush. She felt like a fucking schoolgirl; the last time someone had her blushing was probably when she was in high school.

She chalked it up to her brain taking in loads of mental trauma at once and Chris just doing his job, as to why she was crushing on him now.

She would need tons of therapy when she fully processed this in about two weeks, but she at least had her maladaptive daydreaming to keep her functioning at the moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They finally came across the last missing soldier after almost being lasered to bits by the traps set by Lucas.

“This guy is such a loser.” Anna thought to herself. All of his traps were like overdone tropes from the “Saw” movies.

“It's you!” The soldier said with enthusiasm. “I thought they forgot about us.”

“Never.” Anna tried to assure him. She tried to believe it herself after the last two failures. She was terrified of what was to come next.

“Connolly, you stay right here, I’m gonna find a way to turn these things off.”

She nodded and stayed put.

“Are you injured anywhere?” She tried to keep him calm by talking.

“Just my leg, I think it’s broken.” He managed out.

She looked down and tried to feel where the break was, or if it was a muscle tear.

The soldier let out a yelp when she found the break with her fingers.

“Okay, yes it’s broken, but we’re gonna get you to safety and patch you up.”

The soldier nodded through his visor.

She felt her stomach flip flop, she wasn’t sure either one of them would get out alive.

“They’re cut off, it’s safe to move.”

“I think there’s a way out over here,” the soldier gestured over to a utility closet size space in the corner of the room.

“Let’s head out quick,” Chris ordered.

Anna nodded and threw the soldier’s arm around her shoulder to help him walk faster.

They moved to the exit when it was suddenly revealed that the soldier had an explosive device attached to his neck.

“Get this thing off of me!” He panicked. Anna knew it was useless, it was about to detonate; she had to let go.

This was the third soldier’s blood to be splattered all over her uniform.

She was livid, she hadn’t felt this kind of anger in a long time.

“Fuck you, Baker!” She screamed. She couldn’t keep it in anymore. She was cracking.

“You’re such a loser!” She called out. “We saw the footage from your attic on the way over. Still living with your parents and holding on to your lame, little trophies. You’re a scared little boy, with no friends and hiding behind this “psycho” facade. You’re pathetic and predictable.”

It was exactly what he wanted.

Lucas appeared in their comms unit.

“Loser huh? Is that the best you can do?” He sneered into the monitor. “Let's see about you, Anna Catherine Connolly !”

She froze, he knew her whole government name.

Lucas continued as images from her life flashed on the screen.

“Looks like you’re a nice little Catholic girl, Anna. Grew up in the church, oh look! You were a cheerleader & graduated with honors, I’m not surprised. All you little whores are the same.” He grinned.

Anna and Chris were silent with shock, how the fuck did he find this information?

“Awwww, who’s this Anna?” He taunted. A picture of Anna and her late husband at their wedding flashed on the screen. “You didn’t tell me you were married. The keyword was married.” He laughed out an ear-drum-bursting cackle.

“Stop this shit, Lucas!” Chris roared. He knew exactly what he was doing. Anna was young, she could recover from physical trauma, but this mental abuse would stick with her.

“I don’t think so. Anna, how did he die again? Wrong place, wrong time? Now you’re alone and fighting the same monsters who killed him right? You’re the one who’s fucking predictable.” Lucas spat. “Doing what others tell you to do and listening blindly. Maybe if you weren’t so fucking predictable you wouldn’t be alone.”

Anna felt the tears falling from her eyes. It was all too much. Lucas was truly evil, she was wrong to call him out like that, but damn he had hit her where it hurt.

“I like my girls to be obedient anyway. You’re gonna learn to respect me bitch.” Lucas taunted her. “I’m tired of playing games. There’s about to be four dead soldiers and I’ll have you all to myself, Anna.”

With that final statement, the communication stopped and the timer on Chris’ wrist started ticking.

“Oh, my god.” Anna choked out.

HQ buzzed through. “Redfield, Connolly are you there? We lost contact.”

Chris replied. “Yeah, but now we’ve got a situation, I’ve got a bomb that’s about to blow in 5 minutes.”

HQ paused, shocked, just the static of the comms could be heard through the speaker. It felt like years before she responded “there are canisters of liquid nitrogen close by, right through that red door. You can try to freeze the bomb and disarm it that way.”

You & Chris just looked at each other.

“Looks like it’s gotta work,” Chris said to you.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The two of you successfully disarmed the bomb, much to Lucas’s dismay.

“I can’t tell if you’re actually smart or just plain lucky, but like I said I’m done playing games. You just couldn’t stop could you?” Lucas taunted them. “I’m gonna blow you two sky high. At least you won’t die alone like your husband, Anna.”

“If you’re going to kill us, Lucas, just shut the fuck up!” Chris growled.

Anna didn’t have time to absorb what Lucas said to her. The mine around them had started to go into self-destruction mode.

Chris grabbed Anna, he was determined to find a way out. He wasn’t going to let her die. It was very unlike him, but he prayed for the first time in a long time. “Work your miracle St.Barbara, prove to me what you can do.” He silently said to himself.

He almost believed it.

The two of them were frantically pulling at grates to escape when, like a miracle, it opened for Chris.

“CONNOLLY, HERE NOW!” He screamed.

Anna followed him straight away, without a question. They felt the explosion above them as soon as they were in the tight tunnel. The two wasted no time crawling deeper into the darkness when they finally reached the actual research facility.

“Redfield, Connolly? Are you still there? We detected an explosive event close to where you two are located.” HQ spoke calmly.

“We’re just fine, narrowly escaped, but fine,” Chris spoke.

“Captain Redfield, we just intercepted an email that Lucas sent out. It says: just took care of Redfield and Umbrella. Cost me some time but cost them much more. I can still get that data to you, but it’s quits after that.”

“So he thinks we’re dead. This might be our chance. Who did he send that email to? Chris questioned.

“We’re still trying to decrypt that,” HQ said. “Just try to get Lucas alive,” she spoke sternly.

“Keep us posted,” Chris grumbled.

The two of them explored the areas in silence.

 

Anna managed to document some images of reports in the meantime. Lucas had done horrible things to the people he brought down here. It was disgusting to see all the used lab equipment and the photos of the autopsies.

His lack of disregard for human life made her even more angry and sad.

She also couldn’t help but feel sorry for Eveline. Yes, she was a bioweapon, but she was sentient. All she wanted was a family.

Anna shook off her thoughts and decided thinking about that sort of thing was a waste of her time.

They finally reached a hallway where they saw Lucas through an observation window. He didn’t see them coming until they ambushed him.

“Oh fuck!” Lucas squealed. He tried to make a run for it but was apprehended by Chris.

Lucas tried to get away by swinging a combat knife at Chris.

She tried to separate the men to cuff Lucas so he could be brought in alive like orders stated but Lucas threw off her balance and the both of them fell backward. Lucas retaliated by rushing toward Chris.

Chris decided he had enough and shot Lucas.

“I can’t believe it,” Lucas started to grovel.

“Believe it.” Chris spat.

That's when Lucas began to mutate due to the gunshot.

“Oh, boy this is what it feels like.” His voice was strangely calm. “You’re both screwed!” he laughed one final time.

“Infection is at critical mass, exercise extreme caution,” HQ told them.

“Like we haven’t been doing that this entire time.” Chris mocked.

The two of them backed up and what was once a lanky human form had transformed into a gurgling mass of mold and bodily fluid.

“What the fuck!” Anna couldn’t help but let out.

The two started unloading ammunition into Baker, trying to get clear shots of his head.

That's when a fleshy red mass appeared.

“Try to aim for that Connolly! We gotta take this bastard down.” Chris yelled to her.

She started emptying clips into Lucas, aiming for that specific sweet spot.

He finally started to weaken, throwing up bile and eventually falling.

Chris walked right up to “Lucas” and delivered the final shot right between his eyes.

“Game over.” He said.

It felt so anticlimactic, after everything they had been through. After what Lucas had put them through.

“The data transfers are almost finished loading! You have to stop it!” HQ ordered.

“How do we stop it?” Chris said as Anna rushed over to the computer monitor trying to recall her limited training in the tech sector. There had to be a way to undo the transfer, that was simple enough right?

That's when Chris decided that the most efficient solution would be to shoot the processors altogether.

“That…worked,” HQ remarked “We’re gonna have some pretty pissed-off computer techs in here, but…”

“Cry me a river.” Chris interrupted. “How’d we do?”

“All threats have been eliminated, even the newer breeds. Good work.” HQ assured them.

“Then we’re out of here,” Chris said as he took off the helmet. “Let’s go Connolly.”

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil fanfiction #fanfiction #resident evil

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 8]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Note: I have nothing against McDonald’s; I love some of their things (Nuggets!!!). It’s just that the contrast between what (Y/n)’s mother had always had, compared to something so normal makes me laugh.

Warnings: Smut, Making Out, Candy Swapping, Semi-Public Sex (Private Beach), Teasing, Champagne Blowjob, Cum Swallowing

||Sugar and Spice Masterlist||

***

It had been a couple of days since the pleasurable incident at the Rengoku clan’s mountain home and, for the life of her, (Y/n) couldn’t get it out of her head. Especially at night, when she begun fantasizing about having Kyōjurō’s hands all over her again, with his chest pressed flush against her back.

She would never admit it, but she was addicted— after only the barest taste of him.

And she would have devised a plan to wring the same pleasure from him again, had he not called her the following morning to say that something had come up in Osaka. That would have been find, if it only took a day to fix it. But, apparently, it was going to take a few days.

(Y/n) had tried not to let her disappointment show in her tone, but Kyōjurō must have picked up on it, since she had gotten the most beautiful bouquet of pink and white hydrangeas— as well as one of Kyōjurō’s button down shirts— a mere hour after they had said goodbye to each other.

The card had even held the sweetest inscription she had ever received, which she quickly used to cover her face— as she raced back up the stairs to get back to the privacy of her room.

At that present moment, with her already done getting herself ready for the day, she took a brief moment for herself and sat down on the edge of her bed; taking the card where she had left it on top of her nightstand, and biting back a smile as she read her fiancé’s writing.

‘You are much like hydrangeas; Beautiful, but selfish with your love. I hope that I can take a piece of your heart while I’m gone, And I hope that someday I’ll have your love, (Y/n).

P.S. I’m giving you my shirt, so that it will keep a little bit of me with you.

Forever Yours, Kyōjurō’

(Y/n) couldn’t help but bite down on her lower lip, if only to bite back the giggle that threatened to spill from her lips. She had been reading the card frequently, yet it still managed to elicit the same reaction from her; as if she were a lovesick teenager.

It was very unbecoming for her; especially over someone whom she was still getting to know.

Kyōjurō was going to become her husband, that was a fact, but there was a tiny voice in her head that always warned her to not get too close. Thankfully, it had been small enough to bury beneath all of her foremost thoughts; yet when she was alone— like at that moment— it gained enough momentum to make itself known.

And the smile on her face, which brightened up her features, turned down into a barely perceptible frown. It was dangerous for her to fall so easily for a man; especially a man that she knew was still keeping his cards close to his chest.

She knew that; after all, she wasn’t that far gone in her blossoming feelings for him.

It would have been so easy to keep herself in check, to guard her heart and keep herself sane… if only he didn’t make her feel like throwing all caution to the wind so she could jump and fall right into his arms.

Just like he had told her that she made him happy, Kyōjurō made her feel the same; along with feeling protected and appreciated.

Before (Y/n) could delve in deeper into her own thoughts however, she quickly shook herself from her reverie and placed the card back down on her nightstand. Then, she got up from her bed and straightened herself out; after all, Rin hadn’t been coming to her room to pester her about attending events in her parents’ stead.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t been tasked to attend any political functions ever since Kyōjurō had warned her mother to lessen her tasks. It gave her enough time to actually relax during her break, and it felt amazing.

She had to remember to give Kyōjurō a kiss once he returned. And if she were to be honest, she would say that she missed him.

“You’re too invested, (Y/n),” The young woman muttered to herself with a playful scoff, before shaking her head and making her way down to the dining room. It was time for breakfast, after all; her most dreaded part of the day, since she had to sit there and take all of her mother’s ill-concealed jabs.

Her tasks may have lessened, but her family life sure hasn’t improved.

With all her apprehension about going to see her mother, (Y/n) even dawdled a little bit during the walk downstairs; purposely taking her time to admire some of the paintings that caught her interest, until she arrived at the doorway she was trying to avoid the most.

And with a deep breath, she stepped through and expected her mother’s mildly displeased expression to greet her. Only, the first face that she saw had her immediately brightening up; especially when those lips that she missed tilted up at the corners to give her a handsome grin.

“Kyōjurō!” (Y/n) breathed out, just as a wide smile colored her expression. And before she could help it, she already found herself practically skipping over to where he now stood— only to freeze when she saw her mother’s narrow-eyed gaze boring right into her.

Immediately, the arms that wanted to wrap themselves around her lover froze at her sides; while Kyōjurō engulfed her in a tight embrace, before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Did you miss me, princess?”

“I… I did.” She admitted, her smile almost faltering once, as she felt her mother’s glare boring right into her back. However, she was shielded by Kyōjurō’s face, so she allowed herself a little bit of rebellion and leaned in to peck his lips— all while her hands lifted themselves up and settled themselves at his sides in a pseudo hug.

As her mother had kept repeating to her while she was growing up: it was unbecoming of someone of her social status to show too much emotion to anyone, as it gave people a leverage over her. And it was obvious that it had stuck to her, since she could only act normally whenever she wasn’t around any people who gave a damn about who she was.

Thankfully, she was shaken from her reverie by Kyōjurō guiding her to sit down on the empty chair next to where he sat. “Go and eat, baby. You need your strength for today.”

Kyōjurō’s words were innocent enough, but they didn’t fail to make goosebumps raise across her skin. They were so laden with hidden meaning, at least in her mind, that she couldn’t shake the warmth that pooled at the pit of her stomach.

With those words hanging in the air, she turned her full attention to the food set out on the table— holding back a surprised expression when she saw that it was laden with carry-out boxes from McDonald’s. A laugh wanted to bubble free from the sight of the lavish table paired off with something so… common, yet (Y/n) could only purse her lips together as she grabbed the laid-out silverware to serve herself a pancake.

Breakfasts used to be such a droll agenda whenever she was at home, but Kyōjurō had managed to spin such a humorous twist on it that made her want to kiss him.

The best part? Rengoku Kyōjurō had practically forced her mother— the wife of the Prime Minister, and the prissiest woman to ever live— to eat an Egg McMuffin.

(Y/n) would never forget the undernoted look of disgust that she kept shooting the blond at her side; the very man whom, she was naught to admit, was starting to become such an essential part of her life.

“How’s your McMuffin… okaa-sama?” Kyōjurō asked quietly, looking so regal even with a paper cup of coffee in his right hand. And (Y/n) could only get swept into him even more, when he turned to her and gave her the most attractive wink; one that had her heart practically skipping in her chest.

***

When (Y/n) had heard that she should keep her strength up for the day, she had expected so much more than just going to the beach— which Kyōjurō’s family apparently bought a few years ago— and being told that her fiancé only wanted to relax.

If she were to be honest, she would say that she expected to get railed so hard on the blanket. After all, it was why she had worn the sundress that she was sure accented all of her curves; one that would entice Kyōjurō into doing just what she wanted him to.

There wasn’t anything wrong with hoping to get fucked by such a sexy man, but it had been a few days, and she was sure that he was trying to put on a show just to tease her. That was the problem: he wasn’t giving in to her.

He merely laid down next to her on their blanket— in all his shirtless glory— while he kept eating that goddamned hard candy that was in the glass bowl next to him. And to make things worse for her, he looked so attractive— especially with his abs out on display, and his sunglasses framing his face so perfectly.

She would have long straddled his hips and slipped his cock inside her, had she been that shameless of a woman.

It wasn’t much of a statement coming from her, based on how they had first met, but it was different because they were out in the open; where anyone could happen by and take pictures of them humping like rabbits on the beach.

That wasn’t a headline that she wanted the entirety of Japan to see, even if she knew that the property was as secluded and secure as it could be.

Still, Kyōjurō was making it so hard to resist him. And he knew just how badly he was affecting her.

“Do you want to eat something, baby? Maybe a drink?” Kyōjurō asked softly, raising his sunglasses to the top of his head while he turned to look at (Y/n)— whom was no longer scrolling through her phone, and was blatantly ogling his body.

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t like that, or if he said that that wasn’t turning him on.

In fact, he had wanted to push her down on the table at her house, had her mother not been there to keep giving him ill-concealed glares. But he had to keep it in his pants, since he wanted to see how she would react with a little bit of pushing from him.

After all, he could make her so needy for him that it would make for the hottest nights of their life; especially if he kept on teasing her bit by bit until their wedding night.

It was too little too late, after he had already had a taste of her tight pussy, but it only made things much more exciting for him. If only he wasn’t constantly close to asking her to fuck him.

“A glass of champagne would be nice…” (Y/n) answered softly, the flush on her face getting more evident in the shade, especially when her eyes flickered up to meet his own. They were so intense with need that Kyōjurō couldn’t help it…

He cupped her face with one hand and pulled her in to his face, as he sat upright to meet her halfway.

The first touch of his lips to hers had his entire body tingling with warmth, as if it was coming alive under her touch. And it was only made better when their slow and tentative kisses slowly escalated to open-mouthed ones; ones that had him feeling himself getting hard.

Especially when she reached down and cupped her hand over his hardening cock.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Kyōjurō’s lips then, as he got it in his mind to push the piece of candy in his mouth into hers.

(Y/n) was clearly surprised at first, tensing up the tiniest bit, before getting swept up in her fiancé’s pace. His tongue kept prodding at hers, trying to pull the candy back into his own mouth, which she complied to.

Gingerly, she allowed him to take the sweet from her mouth, instantly missing its sweetness, before it was gently pushed right back in— so warm and a little minty, with a hint of something that was uniquely Kyōjurō.

Or maybe that was her lust addled mind talking.

However, before things could escalate further, the blond pulled away with a grin— his candy back in his mouth. “I’ll be back with your champagne, princess.”

To say that she was shocked and feeling cross with him was a total understatement. She was feeling so irate that she wanted to get some sort of revenge on him— which had been fueled by her less-than-innocent searches while he was gone.

So, she stewed in her own impatience— even sitting up on her knees— just so she could take him by surprise when he came back.

Thankfully, Kyōjurō didn’t take too long with getting her drink; grinning right at her even if she could see the obvious bulge in his swim trunks. It provided the perfect opportunity for her to get back at him, at least even a little.

And when he got back on their blanket, giving her the glass of champagne before making a move to sit back down, (Y/n) got up on her knees and placed a hand on his right thigh— looking up at him and licking her lips, before sliding that hand up to cup his hard-on once more.

“You look uncomfortable,” The young woman whispered, as she slowly undid the tie to her fiancé’s shorts and gently pushed them down his hips; much like how she pushed her own trepidations aside, and threw all caution to the wind.

She was on private property. And she trusted, deep down, that Kyōjurō would protect her and her reputation if it came down to it.

So, she let go of her inhibitions— especially when she was greeted by her fiancé’s hard cock in front of her face. It was thick, and long, and a little bit curved— which had her pussy getting so wet already.

Remembering how amazing he felt inside her even had her squeezing her thighs together, if only to alleviate the lust that she felt bubbling within her.

Gingerly, she took his cock in her right hand, pumping it slowly, and using her thumb to spread the precum that beaded at his tip. A low groan was her reward for that, which only spurred her on even more— especially when she saw his eyes close in pleasure.

Just the faintest of touches and he was already like that. She couldn’t wait to see what his reaction was going to be when she set her plans into action.

And when she leaned forward to suck on the tip of his cock, she felt confidence flaring up within her when Kyōjurō moaned aloud— with his right hand making its way into her hair.

It was hot, but she was not going to get swept up in his pace again.

So, before he could try to give her a nudge to take more of him in her mouth, (Y/n) pulled the head of his cock out of her mouth and took a big sip from the champagne flute in her left hand. And with that, she set the drink down on the blanket— hoping that it wouldn’t topple over.

She kept the cool and bubbly drink in her mouth— looking up again at Kyōjurō, whom was watching her with such a lust-filled gaze— before taking his cock in her mouth once more.

That time, however, Kyōjurō actually cried out in pleasure; hips bucking involuntarily as he felt the champagne’s bubbles teasing his cock. Partnered with the coolness of the drink, and the warmth of (Y/n)’s mouth, the blond was on his slow descent to thinking that he was going crazy with pleasure.

His head was already spinning from the sensations, and she had barely even taking his cock.

But when she swallowed around his tip, before circling her cool tongue around the crown of his cock, he felt his fingers curling into her hair. Hell, he had barely even managed to look up at the security camera perched on a light pole, as a warning for whoever was watching to turn away at that moment.

Slowly, pleasurably, (Y/n) kept taking more and more of Kyōjurō’s cock in her mouth— until she was all the way down to the hilt, with her nose pressed against his trimmed pubes.

And he thought that it couldn’t get any better than that, until she took the hand that was on his thigh to cup his balls and start fondling them.

His eyes almost rolled back into his head at that moment, as he threw his head back and lost himself to the heady feeling of her sucking him off; trying to bring him to the most intense orgasm that he was ever going to get from a blowjob.

Instead of trying to prolong his pleasure though, Kyōjurō began to gently rock his hips into (Y/n)’s face; breathing heavily and moaning aloud as he felt his orgasm crawling up on him.

“I’m cumming,” The blond whispered breathlessly, close to outright fucking his fiancée’s face, when she pulled his cock out of her mouth— leaving just the tip inside— before jerking her off with one hand.

All while the other one kept fondling his balls.

It was so heady that Kyōjurō could only cry out “Fuck, baby! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” as he spurted thick ropes of cum right on her tongue. She was white hot pleasure personified, and he was sure of it at that very moment.

Maybe he really couldn’t wait until the wedding night to have her again.

Especially when she made a show of popping her cock out of her mouth, and sticking her tongue out to show him his cum— before closing her lips and swallowing his thick seed.

“How did I get so lucky, princess?”

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny imagines #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku x y/n #kyojurou x reader

[mystic-sky]

A fan fic of Gojo Satoru inspired by the song Heaven by Julia Michaels 😭 I enjoyed your writings 🥰🥰🥰

The moment you met him was ingrained into your brain, even years after you both parted. It had been raining that day, possibly 7:30pm, and you were held up in a cafe for shelter. You had been dosing off a bit after your classmates left you an hour or so prior. You regretted staying up so late to watch that sit-com the night before. But it was a Friday, and you didn’t have class the next day. The paper was finally finished and you proudly packed your things together. You kept fantasizing about how your efforts during the week were soon to be rewarded by slumber. 

The sound of thunder brought you back to reality within the quiet coffee space. 

“I guess I should sit back down,” you said to yourself. You were standing by the glass doors and ready to leave, bag over your shoulder. You held your book in one arm before fisting the sleeves of your sweater. The one time I forget my umbrella, you thought.

There was something soothing about watching the busy streets of Tokyo while rain hit the window screen. You felt yourself unwinding, relaxing in place. Sometimes your school and work life felt so hectic. It was nice to slow down  from time to time and breathe. 

“Man, you don’t have an umbrella? That sucks.” An incredibly tall, white haired male spoke beside you, snapping you out of your zen moment. 

You turned your head towards him, and he wasn’t even looking at you. He wore a thick black sweatshirt,  black jeans and dark boots. He had thick black shades on, and surely an umbrella in his hands. He had a gorgeous profile, and his jawline was extremely defined. Was he some sort of supermodel, you thought.

“Yeah, I know.” You say, sighing to yourself. You were partially offended, but mostly tired. He was handsome, but you didn’t have time for flirting. You just wanted to go home and run a hot bath. He looked like he was going to break your heart anyways.

“It says the rain is going to stop within the hour on the weather app.” He said, scrolling and tapping away at his phone. “You goin’ to the train station?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say shyly. You nervously tucked some hair behind your ears before looking straight ahead. Why the fuck was this supermodel speaking to you?

Granted, it was hard for you to stop looking at him every so often.

“Like what you see?”

You blinked at him repeatedly, earning a cocky chuckle from him.

“Wanna walk with me?” He asked, peering down at you. You looked at him, pondering if he was seriously trying to hit on you right now. Surely if you had known him, maybe walking to the station with him solely for the use of his umbrella would’ve been fine. You don’t know if it was the sleep deprivation or the fact that he truly did seem a little arrogant that stemmed your next response as you spoke.

“I don’t even know you.” You said bluntly, and you meant it disrespectfully.

“Not yet.” He said slyly. “But I’ve seen you around campus a lot.”

You stood still, pondering again if you had actually seen him before. Wait- wasn’t he in your political science class? You put a finger to your chin before finally igniting the imaginary, anxious little light bulb above your head.

“Professor Edamura’s class right?” You were such a lecture worm in that class, and the professor had yet to start group assignments. You had absolutely no need to befriend anyone  in that class yet. Nonetheless, it was your largest lecture class this semester, and you only met once a week. 

“Bingo.” He grinned.

“There’s like 120 people in that lecture.”

“Yeah. But I think you’re the cutest.” You stared at him, dumbfounded and blush stuck on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you say, squeezing your arms around your book and pressing it towards your chest. 

“Oh look, the rain is stopping.” He says, leaning forward and intently staring out the window.

“Well, see you Wednesday.” He smiled a cheeky smile.

You felt like a child, blushing foolishly whilst you watched him walk out and down the street. 

You almost wish you hadn’t met him.

Days would go by until you saw him again. He made his appearance on Wednesday, at 2pm in Professor Edamura’s class. He sat beside you, offering you a wink before taking out his own computer beside you and your own. Aside from a greeting, he didn’t say a word until the lecture ended. You really had spoken too soon about not befriending anyone, because you had gotten slurped up into a group project with  4 other people.

“So, Friday night, we could all go to my place.  I don’t live too far from here.” You wanted to meet at the library instead. Why did he want to go to his house? However, it seemed he was a rather popular guy and everyone loved him. You learned his name was Gojo Satoru. And then you lost the vote 4 to 1. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as the women in your group swooned at him as he talked. This sucks.

All of you created a group chat in which you sparked ideas for the project’s format. You honestly think the other girls in your group were just more excited they had his number. 

Thursday night came, and you were in your robe and face mask when your phone went off. You blinked repeatedly, realizing Satoru had texted you directly and not the group chat.

Heyy

Hey, Is everything okay?

Yeah, I honestly just can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

You stared at the message, absolutely not having time for his shit. You didn’t respond. Rather, you went in your settings and purposely turned on read receipts and went to bed. 

You wished you could’ve left him on read in real life too as you sat on the floor pillow in his living room the next evening. The other three group mates bailed, texting the chat just 20 minutes after you got there.

“Guess it’s just the two of us,” he chuckled. 

“Don’t look so happy about it.” You rolled your eyes. This project was 30 percent of your grade, you wanted to punch someone.

“I can’t help it,” he says, sitting across from you on a different floor pillow. “I won’t lie. I had been thinking of asking you on a date. I didn’t think I’d get so lucky.”

“And did you text the other girls in our group the same thing the night before?” You say, nonchalantly opening your book. You didn’t even look his way.

“No, they’re incredibly annoying.” He sighed genuinely. You finally looked at him. They were pretty annoying. Because of them, you were sitting across from him with nothing separating you but an extremely expensive coffee table. The library would’ve been better.

“You’re pretty cool though. Kind of bummed you didn’t text me back.” 

“Because I know what you’re up to.” You say, scribbling away in your notes.

“And what might that be?” He takes off his shades, putting them on the glass coffee table. You’d never forget the way he stared at you with his mesmerizing blue shells.

“I’m not going to fall in love with you. I don’t have time for that.” You firmly set your pencil down, looking at him. 

“I don’t exactly want you to.” He chuckled. You looked at him before speaking again.

“So what do you want from me?” You say, placing your face in your palm and leaning forward a bit to look at him directly. The intense stare you had was sure to ring out the truth from his lips.

“I said I wanted to take you on a date.” He laughs. “Get to know you a bit, but ultimately take you to bed at the end of the night, if you don’t mind. You can decline, I just wanted to show you a good time.”

He just blatantly asked you to sleep with him. Somehow, you admired that. You hated people that wasted your time. At least this way, you felt like you had some power in the situation. You could decline him or not, and you knew exactly what would become of your situation-ship if you started something.

“Sure,” you say calmly, to his surprise. You shift yourself around the table, right beside his body.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you took hold of his jaw, delicately planting a kiss. He had no idea you were so confident. He only had a girl initiate the kiss once before. Your lips were incredibly soft and pillowy. He was already hard, wondering just what your sex was like if you kissed him like this. The semester’s stress had gotten to you. You were only hoping he could help you unwind.

You shifted over his body, straddling him against the bottom of the sofa. You’d give him exactly what he wanted.

“You better be good at this, or don’t even bother looking at me after we finish this project.” You break from his lips. 

“Oh princess, I don’t ever disappoint.” He smirked. You were alarmed at his strength when he lifted both your bodies off the ground. He sucked in your lips, kissing you firmly as he brought you to his bedroom. 

That night, he gave you the best sex of your entire life. He wasn’t lying about not disappointing you.

You remember the day you guys finally had to present your project, which didn’t come out too bad. Satoru had seduced the girls who didn’t show up on Friday into doing majority of the work. You remember him telling you that they deserved it after you attempted to nag him for messing with them like that.

“You and me worked hard last Friday night, right princess? So what’s the big deal?” He whispered into your ear while you all gathered in front of the lecture. You presented your part that you did on your own with constant red hues plaguing your face. You wish he waited to say that after the presentation. Now, you were worked up again. The events of skin touching skin had been stuck in your mind. 

You couldn’t get his extremely large hands and hot body out of your head. For something that was supposed to be a stress reliever, the thought of his sex lived on within you and it was getting annoying. He caught up with you after you rushed out the room as soon as class ended.

“You have time before your next class?” He peered down at you, grinning a sexy and devilish smile.

“Why?” You ask. 

“Let’s go grab a bite to eat, on me. I promise really do work harder than I like to show off. The thing I did for the project isn’t really my character. I just didn’t like how the other girls were going to push all the work on you.” 

He sounded genuinely sorry for the situation.

“It’s fine. They deserved it anyway. They never replied to me when I texted them. If it wasn’t for you using your ‘sexiness’ to make them get busy, we would’ve gotten a shitty grade for sure.” You used air quotes around the word ‘sexiness’.

“You think I’m sexy?” He said smugly.

“Of course that’s all you picked up from the entirety of what I said.” You rolled your eyes, and he laughed a hearty laugh.

“Obviously,” you say quietly, he almost didn’t hear you. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said, laughter dying down. You had this annoyed blush on your face as the both of you walked. You did end up going out to eat with him. But somehow, you also ended up fucking him in the restaurant bathroom right after.

His hands squeezed your hips as you pressed you ass closer against him. You never realized you could feel so full. He slammed his length into you, while you shamelessly watched yourself pant beneath him in front of the mirror.

“You’re such a pretty girl, look how pretty you are. I wanna see your face again when you cum.” He coaxed you whilst gripping your neck. 

“Don’t be so loud though, then we’ll get caught. You don’t want this to end do you?”

Your juices were running down your weak legs, and you were holding back pleasure filled squeals while he rammed himself into you. It had been a while since you had been fucked so well aside from last Friday. And something about the thrill of someone knocking on the door, which wasn’t even locked, helped you find your climax during that 10 minute session.

You called out his name as you clenched around his length, causing him to throw his hand over your hot mouth.

“Shhh,” he shushed you as he lifted your body towards his own. 

“We won’t be able to do stuff like this in the future if you’re so loud.” His hot breath poured into your ear. Your knees were burning, but the pleasure in your core was enough to over shadow it. You were ashamed to admit it, but you were cumming again onto his dick.

“Satoru, my legs...” you muffled against his hand.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, don’t worry.” His thrusts were quickening and you felt him twitch inside you. He released himself into the rubber he wore before removing his member from you. You collapsed your upper body onto the sink for support.

He was incredibly sweet somehow, sliding your jeans and panties up for you. 

“Can you walk?” He asked.

“I can manage.” You say, stumbling back against his chest. He caught you whilst you buttoned your jeans. 

“The look on your face is priceless.” He said, looking at you in the mirror. You were a disheveled blushing mess, but somehow you were scowling at him for making you cum in such a short time.

“You can hold my arm for support,” he watched as you fixed what you could of your top and hair. 

“Shut up.” You said, wrapping yourself onto his arm and exiting the bathroom.

Sex with him was filled with plentiful moments like this. He would spontaneously show up around you, asking to hang out. It helped out a lot, considering you were less stressed and chirpier, your friends noticed. A little bit of dick does everyone good sometimes. 

You did your best to keep it strictly sex related, and you felt like he was casually following whatever you wanted to do. He was a decent friend, listening to your qualms about school and your other friendships. He took in a lot of stories and life situations from you, but he rarely ever talked about himself. You had slept with him countless times by then, but you really knew nothing about him. The thing that made it worse is that he started to sex you more passionately, stirring your feelings in a bunch.

He towered above your body in the dark moonlit room. It was another Friday, and you were lost in his sex yet again. He was so close, kissing and sucking your lips til they were sore and bruised. He dragged his mouth against your neck and down to your chest. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he was keen to keep the space between you as close as possible. You hadn’t see him all week, and you both didn’t have any classes together this season. The spontaneous adventures became more planned due to your busy schedules.

He inserted himself into your warmth, making you arch your back and press your breasts to his chest. 

“Fuck, I missed you.”

Your entire head was hot from the whisper he made into your ear. You wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It was starting to fuck with you. You let out a moan as he filled you up completely, grinding your sex towards him from underneath.

“It looks like you missed me too,” he chuckled. Your sex was loud and wet. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried— your body wouldn’t let you.

You found yourself moaning how much you missed him as he rolled into you endlessly throughout the evening. 

“I know baby,” he placed sweet kisses against your face and neck, “I know.”

You chose to block this specific memory out whenever you told your friends this story. He had sexed you like he loved you that night and you had too many orgasms to count.

You awoke in the morning with him clinging to your naked body. It really wasn’t the first time something romantic like this had happened but it was the first time you felt provoked to say something.

“Satoru...” You said against his hair. He grumbled a groggy hum into your neck. You didn’t know if this was the right time to say it, but you were tired of the subtle hints of affection he had been mixing in with all the lust. 

“It’s getting hard for me to keep this relationship strictly sex based,” you begin.

“I really do want to get to know you more. But sometimes you throw me these mixed signals and I get confused.” 

He sat up, bringing his blue gaze towards yours.

“Then we should stop.” He said bluntly. He wasn’t asking you either. 

“We should,” you sort of agree, confusedly.

“I had a feeling this was going to happen.” He said, tearing himself from you. 

“But it’s cool. I’ve got somewhere to be. You need a ride home?” He asked. You nodded. That morning for the first time in a long time, you both got dressed together in solitude. There was no banter, no joking around and none of the occasional compliment or kiss.

He drove you home, in comfortable silence on his part. When you both of reached in front of your house he finally spoke.

“Don’t look so down, honey. At the end of the day, you were just a warm body to me. Cheer up though, you served your purpose.”

You could’ve cried but you knew exactly what this was from the beginning. Was it possible he was starting to feel something? And this was his way of running from it? You stared at your lap. There was no point of trying to read too hard into it now.

“Thanks for the ride.” You say, shutting the door. He watched you walk into your house. He hadn’t known you were so sensitive considering the persona you’d been giving him since the very beginning. He would never be able to apologize to you for it either— he had too much pride.

He never texted or called you after that. Not that you were surprised, you knew he wasn’t the one for you. He was too secretive despite his outgoing nature. An experience it was, you thought it was fun. You did your best to look at the situation as optimistically as possible.

Whenever you saw him on campus, you didn’t even bother looking at him. You walked right by him. He knew better than to speak to you. One day you were sitting in the cafe you first met him in. It was raining just like it was last year. You knew he saw you scribbling away through the glass window. He entered anyway, with a brunette attached to his arm. She laughed loudly as she pressed her breasts to his bicep. You casually sipped your iced coffee, eying him briefly before returning to your work.

He was pretty ballsy.

“You okay babe?” Suguru slid his large hand over yours, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You hummed in delight, watching him take hold of your hand and press your knuckles to his lips. 

“When you’re done, how about we go to that Hibachi place you like?”

You held back an excited squeal at the dark haired male in front of you.

“I’d like that a lot.”

part 2

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #jjk #jjk smut #im sorry but just because they're your fav does not mean im gonna write the relationship all lovey dovey #fictional characters are not exempt to toxicity #but I love the song so much I couldn't write it any other way

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Please ignore this if your request box is closed.

Can I get headcanons for yandere Asano, Karma, and Asano's father. All from Assassination Classroom. Thank you🙏

Time for the Gaslighting-Your-Darling Olympics, and here are our top three champions!

Asano likely develops a fixation on a Darling based on his standards: for grades, athleticism, charm, personality, intelligence, etc. He's been raised to be the best student possible, so anyone who's better than him in some aspect will catch his interest. If this is early in the series, he may develop a fixation on a Darling for the opposite reason if they struggle a lot with their grades or are a loner, etc. They become an easy target, and Asano obsesses over them under the guise of "fixing/improving" them.

Uses his status to keep them in line, if nothing else works. What do you mean you don't want to study with Asano-kun? Everyone else in class would kill to be in your place! What, you think you're too good for the best student in the school AND the entire country? Any time Darling avoids or rebuffs him, Asano doesn't doesn't need to tell his classmates about it for them to socially punish and isolate Darling as a result.

It's hard for him to find proper relief from the stress and pressure in his life, but over time he starts to associate being around Darling to feeling relaxed. He'll find any excuse to hang out with them, and he's really good at being insistent without being too pushy. Really, it's his classmates that to most of the pressuring on Darling while he seems like someone with nothing but innocent intentions.

He'll apologize for his friends being so harsh on them whenever they don't want to hang out with him, but in reality he loves that he seems less suspicious by comparison. He can't help being popular, right? He's a Light Yagami kinda yandere, if you catch my drift; lots of hugs only for him to do that evil smirk when his face isn't visible to Darling.

Karma is the most outwardly mean in how he manipulates his Darling. The Asanos will gaslight their Darling very subtly, to seem like they aren't being manipulative at all and Darling is the one at fault for thinking that. Karma? Karma don't give a fuck, lol. He's an asshole and isn't afraid to be as blatant as possible in manipulating his Darling.

Darling would catch Karma's eye by having some interesting quality that he can't ignore. There's just SOMETHING about them that he can't put his finger on, so he'll want to figure that out by spending more and more time with them. He figures at some point he'll get bored, but somehow he never does. And that just drives him crazy, because few people can keep his interest for this long.

Will tell his Darling what to do and if they resist, he finds a way to manipulate or force them into doing it anyway. Like he'll just go to their desk and tell them they're going to have lunch with him and if they say no, he'll have found some kind of blackmail to make them eat with him. If he can't find anything like that, he'll bully and poke/prod them every day until they acquiesce. He'll smugly take them by the hand and just go "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Is the kind of yandere where his Darling isn't sure if he hates them or likes them. He'll insult them, tease them over their biggest insecurities, belittle them, etc. But then he'll be nice to them sometimes, too; helping them with school trouble, offering advice, comforting them when they're crying (though he'll tease them and call them a crybaby after they're done, in a soft voice while having an arm around them).

He makes stalking them a fun pastime, and if anyone from class catches him blatantly shadowing Darling, he explains that he's just practicing his stealth skills to try and kill Koro-sensei. He'll break into their home, steal their clothes and other items, and enjoy just being in their room while they're out and totally unaware. If he gets bold enough he'll think about coming in while they're at home and/or sleeping when he decides to SHOW them how he feels about them.

Principal Asano is the kind of yandere to develop a fixation on a Darling that is shy and intelligent, ideally someone who works under him or defers to him in some way (eg. a secretary, student teacher/new teacher, custodial staff, deliveryperson). He also has a fondness for "domestic" Darlings, just because he likes being taken care of like that.

Knows juuuust how to skirt that line between power harassment and just being a little touchy or something. He'll have a hand on their shoulder when pointing something out or directing them, touch their hand and look them in the eye when he's thanking them or complimenting them, asking if they would be able to attend a staff mixer (you're allowed to bring your partner if you like, it's not just employees...do you have someone you'd like to bring?). In his spare time, sometimes he'll "research" their social media presence to learn more about them too.

As he gets more and more obsessed with his Darling, he'll go from fantasizing about them while touching himself to getting a strong urge to fuck them for real. He'll plan out how he'll go about "seducing" them, and ideally he'd prefer to do it by luring them back to his place; they'll have to come there at some point if they're going to be his partner, after all, so why not make their first time there a special occasion?

Once they're there for one reason or another, he'll make sure the doors are locked so that if they react poorly they can't just run out or call for help. He's the type to slip them something and then play the role of a concerned colleague that offers to let them rest at his place because they're starting to pass out. He'll take them to bed, but won't go all the way quite yet. He wants them to be awake for that. But he will strip them and fondle them, smiling when he hears them make such lewd noises in front of him for the first time. When they wake up while he's touching and kissing them, he shushes them and assures them that everything's alright. They're where they belong, with him, TO him.

Gets turned on when they weakly try to resist or pretend they aren't loving what he's doing to them, turning their head and feebly trying to push him away while they plead for him to stop. After that first night with them, he's able to manipulate them into not going to the police and eventually either quit their job or work directly under him as an assistant/secretary (if they aren't already). He'll punish them for messing up or being defiant with spankings or overstimulation/edging, and most of their job consists of cleaning his office, making and serving him lunch, and being his stress doll at work and at home whenever he wants to fuck them.

#.assassinationclassroom #yandere assassination classroom #yandere asano #yandere principal asano #yandere karma #tw: noncon #tw: gaslighting #can you tell i want to be diddled by Mr. Asano :D #.myshit

[haztory]

OK BUT THAT'S ME BEING AN IDIOT HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA drabble/sfw JAHAHHAHAHAHAH DAMN

““You better catch that fucking bouquet, babe. Our relationship is on the line!” + “You wanna go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?” with Bokuto for the loveliest Clara! from my writing event that is now closed!

warnings: adult langauge and that’s it!

a/n: i answered her previous ask for the quotes so i’m just posting the drabble here! thank you for your patience my love!!! i hope you like it <33333

bokuto koutarou x f!reader; (fluff, all the fluff and wedding shenanigans)

Bokuto loves weddings. They’re truly his weak spot. Ask him to attend and he’s there an hour early, regardless of whether you’re his best friend or his cousin twice removed. The man lives for a wedding.

He loves the sentimentality of the ceremony that never fails to make him teary-eyed and oppositely, he loves the liveliness of the reception, half tempted every time to push the DJ aside and take over the mixing of music with a drink in his hand and a sloppy yell. He’s a vivacious mess of mixed moods and energy, but truthfully, he’s the best date anyone could ever ask for.

The best attendee too, considering almost everyone wants him to be a groomsman. He usually can never say no, but this time, it wasn’t even a question; Especially not for Hinata.

But above all, he loves that every wedding he attends grants him ample opportunity to enter into the sanctity of his fantasies and imagine his own.

“Did ya see him up there?!” Atsumu barks with a hard laugh, one hand clutching his whiskey and another his suit-clad chest, “He was cryin’ more than the groom!”

Met with the boastful laughs of his fellow team members, all gathered in a scattered circle by the bar, Bokuto jokingly pushes the blond on his left with a loud scoff and a faux-defense tone.

“I held it in!”

 “I heard you sniffling when Sho finally entered the venue,” Sakusa says, pointing a finger at Bokuto with the same hand that held his own alcoholic drink, “Don’t lie.”

 The group erupts into even more scattered laughter, that of which Bokuto finally joins in. His suit jacket has long since been abandoned, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he holds his hands up in surrender, “What can I say? I love weddings!”

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, Meian joyfully says from beside him, “At least we’ll know now how you’ll be at your own.” His eyes waggle in accompaniment and Bokuto feels his cheeks start to ache from the intensity of his smile. 

“We’ll bring extra tissues!”

Flustered to the core, Bokuto dips his head in abnormal shyness— the likes of which have the entirety of his friend group leaning forward in curiosity, their own interested smiles painted on their faces.

Fascinating as it may be to see the loud and boisterous wing spiker reduced to flushed cheeks at the mention of marriage, it doesn’t take much to figure out why; Even if they didn’t know him as well as they did, it was more than clear as to the reason when Bokuto’s own gaze tries to covertly dart to the side. That of which they all notice and blatantly follow. 

Stood beside the table of the bride, there you stood in all of your sheer elegance laughing with a number of the bridesmaids, blissfully unaware of a loving gaze that was drawn much too heavily to your turned figure. Focused on the way your dress shimmers in the dim lighting and the way you speak amongst the other guests, Bokuto feels locked in the trace of your magnanimous presence. Shyness dissipating quickly and replaced with the overwhelming flutter in his stomach.

And, not for the first time this night, he wonders briefly what it would be like if it were you walking down the aisle; If instead of the sheer, shimmery dress that adorned you beautifully, you were wearing a white one.

As he watched with exuberant joy as one of his closest friends married the one he loved, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if this were his wedding. If it were you walking down the aisle to the ethereal orchestra with your closest friends and family in attendance, all watching with eager rapture at your astounding beauty as he surely would be. But none of them, not a single one of them could ever compare to the intensity of his own stupefied gaze.

He’s imagined the scenario too often, felt tears prick the corner of his eyes every time, and he grows more excited each time he’s fantasized. But nothing gives him more butterflies than the thought of interlocking his hand with yours, placing his ring of eternal promise on your third finger, and avidly vow forever with you.

It’s not like he needs a wedding to promise that; He sees his future every time he looks at you—even if you have your back turned to him and are chatting away unsuspectingly with the fellow attendees.

 But a wedding would be nice, he thinks.

“That’s if he can get married,” Atsumu mutters into his glass cup and takes a long drink of his whiskey.

Bokuto, interrupted from his loving stare at the back of your head, snaps his own head to the blond with the speed to break necks. Eyebrows furrowed, fantasy ruined, and full offense coating his syllables, he exclaims, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, Atsumu leans one elbow on the surface of the bar counter and swirls his drink around, “Ya keep sayin’ yer gonna do it, but how long’s it been? Seven, eight months? If you haven’t done it yet, yer not ever gonna.”

A quick flash of sternness settles into the eyes of their captain, his arm still wrapped around the shoulders of the slowly deflating wing spiker. “He’ll do it when he’s ready, Atsumu. There’s no need to rush something like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa chimes in from across the three men. Pointing his stare at Koutarou, who resembles a kicked puppy at this point, he sighs. Not one to expel too much effort in emotional comfort, he decides this one is worthy of some kind of attempt. Albeit a minimal one. 

 “Don’t listen to this idiot, Koutarou.”

“‘m jus’ sayin’. She won’t wait for long, man,” Atsumu shrugs his shoulders again, eyes flitting to his right. Out of the corner, Koutarou deflates even more— shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth downturned noticeably. He huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose.

Step one, complete.

“Since when were you such an expert in what women want?” Sakusa snorts.

“I have experience, thank you very much!” 

“That’s hard to believe.”

Sticking his tongue out at Sakusa, he pointedly ignores the insult to his knowledge of the feminine desires and turns his attention to the subject matter at hand.

Atsumu knows what women, having dated quite a few in his years. More specifically, he knew what you want, considering one drunk evening you had wondered aloud— quite heartachingly in your alcoholic daze, he might add— if the boisterous wing spiker even wanted to marry you. Bokuto, in your words verbatim—

“He just always gets fidgety when I bring it up and I jus’ dunno if he even likes me anymore cause yesterday, he said that my dinner was just ‘okay’ when he always says that he really loves it. Do you know how that made me feel? How could he even want to marry me when I make just ‘okay’ food? Do you know how much he eats? How can he survive!”

And as the ever so loyal friend that Atsumu considers himself to be, who is never one to ever meddle in the business of others, decided it was only right of him to solve this slight problem himself.

By taunting Bokuto, of course. 

If only to make him take matters into his own hands and finally do what everyone has been waiting for. What he knew the poor man has been dying to do forever, considering he never shuts up about you.

And also, to finally have you stop drunk texting him, no matter how endearing he may find them to be.

“So,” Atsumu sings once more, ignoring the look of exasperation on Meian’s face and instead, zoning in on the face of despair before him, “what are ya waiting for?”

In his stupefied stare at the blond beside him, Bokuto finds his gaze once more being drawn back to your turned figure that stands right in his line of sight. Wearing that pretty dress that you face timed him to get his opinion on, smelling of sweet lavender and jasmine— his favorite perfume of yours— and the lip gloss that you begged him not to mess up. He didn’t listen, and truthfully, you hardly minded all that much.

What is he waiting for? He knows what he wants, so why hasn’t he done it yet?

What if you’re growing tired of how long he’s been waiting? What if you’re unhappy that your relationship hasn’t progressed to the next stage? Oh god, what if--

His mouth opens then closes, then opens once again, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I… I don’t know.”

“Do ya want to marry her?”

Bokuto nods eagerly, as though through the action alone he could dispel of any lingering doubt that ever had the audacity to pervade his thoughts, “Of course! I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“Ya think she’s gonna say ‘no’?”

Looking at his two other teammates, who each have their own curiosities piqued at the line of questioning, he shakes his head with finality.

“No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Then ya just need a push!” Placing his drink on the counter, Atsumu slaps his hand on the man’s shoulder, “How about this: If yer girl catches the bouquet, ya rip the band-aid and ya ask her—”

Stepping in once more, Meian chimes, “Don’t push him to do something he’s not ready for—”

“I ain’t pushin’! He’s got the ring already, right?”

“You do?” All eyes fall onto Bokuto, who stares with widened innocent stare at each of them. He quickly shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his fist to reveal a velvet box in his hand. 

“I’ve been carrying it with me every day for the past six months. I just didn’t know if I should do it.”

Three pairs of eyes stare blankly at the man before them. Sharing a quick look at one another, the message is translated seamlessly between each of them and voiced eloquently by Meian himself. Ever the efficient captain.

“Holy shit.”

“My friend,” Atsumu laughs, squeezing his hand on the broad shoulder of his closest friend. His smile, innocent enough to the passing gaze, holds that twinge of mischief that Bokuto has come to know rather intimately; A taunting smile that has been directed his way one too many times that usually never ends well.

“I dare ya to propose to yer girl if she catches that bouquet. If yer really a man, that is.”

Bokuto’s eye twitches, his features narrowed at the utterance of the dare, and that’s how Atsumu knows he’s got him in the bag. It has his own smile widening even further, as Bokuto’s face scrunches in suspicion, knowing full well that he could never resist a dare.

With the single word alone, long gone is the hesitancy and doubt that plagued the man just a moment before, and instead stands a man tall in his ushering of competition. A man who thrives off the challenge, especially wherever his teammate presented one. It’s almost startling how quickly he sheds his mopey behavior and embraces his natural presence, which overwhelms and overpowers everyone around them. 

Step two, done.

“And if she doesn’t?” Bokuto asks, smugness filtering his words as he entertains the notion— silently accepts the provocation laid before him and drastically alters himself in order to successfully combat it. 

In order to win.

Spotting the glint of devilry that grows in strength in the narrowing of Bokuto’s eyes, Atsumu smirks and meets it with one of his own. He’s got him, hook, line, and sinker.

“Ya break up.”

Bokuto reels backward physically, shaken from the competitive trance and staring at the man in grotesque shock. The kind that almost borders anger and offense. Huffing a breath through his nose, he takes a step forward, away from the present comfort of Meian and almost in accusation.

“Are you trying to ruin my life, blondie? You trying to go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?”

Atsumu laughs, holding his hands up in defense, “I’m tryna get ya married, big guy!” Shoving his hands into his pockets, hardly phased by the proximity in which the large man has entrenched onto his space, he shrugs once more, “That is… if yer man enough to take it.”

“Deal,” Bokuto says without hesitation, both incredibly and not at all to the surprise of the other two men who have been silently watching from the sidelines. Like a sudden reset, the tension that resided stiffly in the shoulders of Bokuto rescinds, and replaced is the confident, joyous man. 

A man who looks as though he’s won easy money and then some. 

Smiling widely, Bokuto turns in his place and begins a bold strut away from his friends. In the direction of his beloved, “Excuuuse me, gentlemen. I’m going to go teach my lady how to catch a bouquet.”

Meian and Kiyoomi step to the side, allowing enough space for Bokuto to walk through with the hint of laughter in their small smiles. 

Spinning on his heel and pointing his thumb at his chest, Bokuto exclaims proudly, “This time tomorrow, I will be a married man!”

“One wedding at a time, Kou.” Meian laughs at the retreating man, who is beaming from head to toe.

“Better train ‘er good, big guy! Or else I might be the next one to propose to her!” Atsumu calls out as Bokuto gets closer and closer towards your turned figure.

“I’ll kill you!” He calls back, hearing the echoing laughter diminish as he finally steps beside you.

Turning from the conversation with one of the bridesmaids to the new presence, you shine beautifully upon recognizing who it is, and Bokuto feels his resolve grow almost stronger.

“Hi baby,” You coo, instinctually placing your hand into his and leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek when he quickly presents it to you, “Did you have fun with the boys?”

Wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, he places his own kiss on your cheek, humming against the surface of the skin yet making no move to part from you. “Mhmm. Just missed you.”

You laugh, rubbing your hand on his arm, “You were only gone for a couple minutes, Kou.”

Trailing his lips downward, he nuzzles himself into your neck, inhaling deeply. Lavender and jasmine. His favorite scent.

The one he wants to smell for the rest of his life.

“Ten minutes is too long.”

If possible, he manages to pull you even tighter against him. Two strong arms wrapping around you, pulling your chest into his and squeezing you tightly. Lovingly and entirely too comforting. Home.

You return the embrace eagerly, holding him to you equally as tight, “You’re right. It was starting to get boring without you.”

His hand, warm and large against the small of your back, rubs the surface up and down before he pulls back slightly, if only to look at your face in its entirety and the lip gloss you have unfortunately reapplied.

“You’re gonna do the bouquet toss, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, “I usually do. Why?”

He glances to the side, avoiding your inquiring stare. He raises a hand from your waist, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile, “Maybe we should go outside, and I can throw a couple of rocks at you. Just to practice your catching skills.”

“Kou— “

“Can’t have anyone disrespecting you on the floor, can we? We gotta let everyone know you’re a winner! Cause you’re my girl, and whoever disrespects you, disrespects me! You know? So, you better catch that fucking bouquet. I mean, our relationship is on the line, here!”

“Koutarou—” From the tone in which you say his name, he knows he’s not making any sense. You’re confused, incredibly so, and he can’t blame you. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, only that he has a goal, and he has to make you see it without revealing himself entirely.

 “I mean, only if you want to. It just… means a lot to me, and I want you to say yes, because I love you. And if you win, I win in a lot of ways. And I want to win with you, for the rest of our lives.”

Realizing almost entirely too late that he was talking with duplicity that you have most certainly caught on towards, he decides there is a good place to stop talking entirely. Oh god, he’s such an idiot. What was he thinking? He can never hide anything from you!

If you couldn’t tell from the way he was talking in metaphors, you could most definitely see it from the way in which sweat beads at the top of his forehead.

Your eyes flicker from each of his, your warm palms cupping the sides of his face as you watch him with concern.

“Baby,” You breathe out, voice steady and calm as you watch his resolve slowly crack under your watchful stare, “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

He tried desperately to remind himself that he has a mission to accomplish, that there was a dare that Atsumu had challenged him to that he must complete—but it’s you. You’re the trump card, the weakness in his defense, his priority above all else. He could never hide anything from you because you would catch him in a quick minute. And truthfully, he doesn’t want to hide anything from you.

It was easy to hide the ring under the guise of waiting for the perfect time, a mental barrier that he could excuse as a good cause behind his hesitancy, but now that he’s accepted a dare that is forcing him to put his desires to immediate use, he can hardly wait for the bouquet toss to arrive.

He’s got to do it now. The time is right, it will never be more perfect. You look beautiful, you’re held tightly in his arms, and he’s never been more convinced of the fact that he loves you. Why has he even waited this long?

He has to do it—Atsumu be damned.

“Marry me.” 

**

Extra:

“You really think she’s going to catch it?” Meian asks Atsumu, as they both watch from afar the way Bokuto wraps himself around your body, nuzzling unabashedly into you.

Atsumu scoffs, “Hell no. Girl can’t catch fer shit.”

Furrowing his brows, Meian stares at the blond with intense confusion, “Then why did you—”

“Just had to plant the idea in his head. He’ll do it soon, jus’ give it a minute.”

The two watch you both silently, noticing the way in which Bokuto pulls away from you and starts to speak rapidly. Neither of them can hear what he’s saying, but they can see his lips moving. More importantly, can see the way in which you stare in perplexion.

Then finally, his lips stop moving and your hands cup his face. The setter and captain feel their breaths hitch and they both lean forward if only to see if they can read the wing spiker’s lips from where they stand.

They can. And from the way you respond with a laugh and an eager kiss, they know it worked.

Looking to Meian, Atsumu raises his brow with a smile, “Told ya!”

end note: to everyone who sent a request, it is on it’s way! i just don’t know the definition of a drabble and instead make 3k long fics, so that’s fun. 

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto drabble #bokuto fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #hq fluff #hq drabble #hq fic #haikyuu fic #my writing #my fic #writing event

[alvfr]

Bittersweet Hotch

Gif by the lovely @dudeitiskarev​ 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+, minors DNI Words: 3.9K (look at me writing something shorter than 15k, huh?) Warning: Semi-public sex. Anal play (fem receiving). Love. Description: A short version of Hotch's POV from Chapter 1 of Bittersweet ("Accidents" Part 5). Link to the full series in my masterlist - will probably make most sense if you’ve read those first 💕

(Warning: Very NSFW below the cut! 18+)

Bittersweet Hotch 

There were a lot of reasons why Aaron loved you.

The bigger things, of course, such as your intelligence, your sharp humor, and your heart. Your unbridled compassion for the whole world, however undeserving at times, where Aaron occasionally filed himself in the latter category. Just occasionally though, not all the time anymore. Not after you had made it so blatantly clear how good you thought he was and he found himself striving to live up to those expectations. Surprisingly, it worked.

So yes, the bigger things were almost self-explanatory for why he loved you. Why anyone would love you, really, if they got the chance. Then there were all the little things. Small drops accumulating all the time, like water on a mountainside patiently eroding the seemingly impenetrable rock. One drop after the other until the dam broke and Aaron finally realized he loved you, even if he had done it for some time already. How you hummed to yourself if you thought no one was around, how you always stretched right after waking up, and how you lit up at the sight of him without noticing it yourself.

It was subtle, of course, especially when you were at work. But after Morgan had deftly pointed it out to Aaron — who had asked how the infamous bet started — it was impossible to ignore. He could see how other people on the team had picked up on it. It sometimes made it unbearable to maintain the rigid professionalism you had agreed on at work because now Aaron noticed it all the time. Whenever you walked into a room, you would seek him out first. A small glance, maybe a split second at most, but always there. At home, in more relaxed surroundings, you dropped your guard down further and he could see how your pupils dilated when you caught his eye. And lately, you got that small smile on your lips too, a smile that had Aaron convinced he would do absolutely anything for you.

It was that smile of yours that had made him bold enough to say those three words for the first time back at his kitchen. After that unsub clocked you with a two-by-four and Aaron had to physically restrain himself from beating up a local SWAT officer. Your reaction to those three words had not been as he hoped for, at least not at first, but it had improved quickly. He had come to realize that although you were — like him — keenly intelligent and —also like him — profiled people for a living, you were just as stupid as he was when it came to love. Just as human and vulnerable. There was something incredibly reassuring about that and in all honesty, it just made him love you more.

It meant he had to work harder though, to make you realize how serious he was about this. About this relationship, about you. This promotion they offered you, the one that forced him to squash down his selfish desires to keep you close at all times, was a good thing. It was good for you, and where he had let Haley play the second fiddle in favor of his career and his goals, he was not going to subject you to the same. He could be supportive — he wanted to be supportive — and if that meant sacrifices on his part, so be it. Hopefully, you’d realize he was serious about both this relationship, but also that he took you seriously. As a person, a partner, and a profiler.

The forced hierarchy from your jobs should not and would not seep into any other areas of your lives together.

All of these things had been clear in his mind when you stormed into his office earlier, kicking the door shut, and demanding answers. He loved that about you too. How brazen you could be and that you were comfortable enough around him now to be brazen, even here. Time had gone by quickly, but he could recall just like yesterday when he had held an impromptu performance review here in his office. When he had tried — in vain — to lay down some boundaries, but still found himself unable to say outright that this couldn’t happen. You and him? Impossible for so many reasons. The age difference, your jobs, his son — so many obstacles that had been swept away by those steady drops of water. Things he eventually forgot were obstacles at all unless someone pointed it out for him.

And as he watched you chew your bottom lip raw — so obviously conflicted about this offer and so obviously looking for some kind of permission from him to take it — he realized he would do anything for you. Maybe that was why it had happened? He certainly hadn’t planned it, but seeing your wet eyes after he asked you to move in — again, not the reaction he planned for — he had acted on instinct. Anything to turn that confusion into something simpler.

It started as a kiss. Just a simple gesture of affection and a physical distraction. And perhaps your boldness had rubbed off on him or all those whispered confessions how you fantasized about being bent over his desk played a part, but the next thing he knew, he had pushed his hand up the skirt of your dress. By then it was too late to back down. The way your breath hitched when his fingers brushed against the silken part of your inner thigh skipped through both ears and brain and lodged straight into his libido. And then that perfect mouth of yours had dropped open when he ran his finger against the thin material of your underwear. Using his trigger finger to carve out that well-defined slit marking the entrance to something downright holy — he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and despite your half-hearted pleas, you didn’t want him to stop either.

You hadn’t been wet to start with, but it took seconds before he felt the fabric dampen. Blood rushing to swell your lips and that tight bundle of nerves he loved to rub, suck, and bite when the occasion called for it. He thought he could tell the difference with each of your heartbeats and he’ll admit he got lost in the moment.

A calculated risk on many levels, but when you shuddered and tightened around his fingers — two of them pumping into you with sloppy wet sounds — he knew he would have come in his pants if he’d been twenty years younger. Sometimes he hated that he was noticeably older than you, other times he silently thought it gave him the opportunity to show you the sexual experiences you deserved. He had another kind of patience now than when he was young, another kind of appreciation for giving as well as receiving pleasure, and let’s face it, another kind of stamina. Not necessarily better, but different.

The sight of you fully dressed, knees knocking against his where he caged you in the chair, and with a glow to your cheeks would forever be burned into his retina. He’d never able to see anyone sit in that chair again without remembering this moment and he was unable to decide whether or not that was a good thing.

It was at least part of the reason why he stayed hard — rock hard, so uncomfortably strained against the stretchy materials of his boxers — even while driving to the city. Trying and wanting to make good on his offer for lunch. And he could smell the faintest wafts of your juices on his fingers and that didn’t help one bit. For a second he had been tempted to let you help him as you had offered — unzip and lean back as far as possible in the seat, pushing your head down and feeling the rasp of your teeth when he pushed too hard at one point. No. He had tried, he told himself, to make this about you. All about you.

There was still a limit to his willpower.

“Aaron,” you had said when the car was parked, the forest empty besides the two of you. As if nothing really existed outside the two of you. Your lips were swollen from his kiss where you leaned halfway over the console. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and focused on him, pinning him in place with your unbridled sincerity. “You just need to decide if you want me to suck your dick or not before you fuck me.”

It took less than a minute before he was shoving his dick into your wet and open cunt where you laid splayed over the passenger seat in the SUV. The door stood wide open to allow him access to you, with the chill of the Virginia forest whispering across the bare skin of his thighs and yours alike. Outdoors, in the middle of the day, when you both were supposed to be at work and not fucking like two teenagers at the end of a forest road. You with that fancy dress rucked up to your midriff, and him with his pants and boxers nestled around his ankles. He didn’t even bother stepping out of them, working with what he had and shoving himself into you through the car door.

The agent and the lawyer in him mumbled something vague about indecent exposure, but drowned out at the sight of you throwing your head back when he snapped his hips forward, your wet open lips pressed against and around him. You weren’t even worried. Another part he loved about you. Spontaneous, risk-taker, daredevil — call it whatever the hell you wanted, but he loved it. It. You. He loved you.

It always felt like the first time when he pushed into you, that heated way you almost sucked him in, squeezing around his dick like a tight fist. Pure velvet fire consuming his dick, and his fingers scrambled for hold, searching for those soft parts of your body that yielded to his grip. He could feel your insides tighten whenever he hit a particularly good point and he kept the pace brutal because you asked him to. At least he thought you did — you at least swore incessantly and it was hard to tell the fuck me’s from the ordinary fuck’s. You always swore like this when you didn’t have to be quiet — and sometimes even then — and it was all breathless and beautiful and he strived to give you everything you wanted. Everything he had.

He loved the way he could see your breasts bounce even under that tight dress he had all but tricked you into wearing today. And when you had to turn around, he loved the way your ass jiggled every time he thrust into you. He loved the way his fingers fit on your body, how pliant it was, somehow always making room for him — be it his fingers, his dick, or his tongue.

You made a spectacular sight and he didn’t know where to focus. On the faint reflection in the window on the other side where he could see your eyes tightly closed and mouth hanging open. On the curve of your waist, flaring up to your hips where his hands held you. On the ripple passing through your thighs and ass cheeks every time he went all in so his balls smacked against your undoubtedly swollen clit. Or on your puffy wet lips gripping around his dick in rhythm to his hips snapping forward, a clear mirror of how your other lips looked like when they locked around his cock.

His mind felt blank and he was aware he was saying something. Trying and failing to put his thoughts into words, mostly groaning your name and saying how beautiful you were over and over again. Because you were. Jesus Christ, you were. It was partially as a distraction for himself when he reached around to find your clit — two fingers, pulling the hood back a fraction so he could move better around it — because he wanted to fill you up now.

He wanted to pump you so full of his cum you’d feel it for the rest of the day. It was a little caveman-ish, but he was done trying to deny he loved seeing his white spend pool out of your hole. A claim, a mark, an undeniable sign of where he’d been. Of what you’d done together and how you’d let him use your pussy. The only thing that could compare was seeing it in your mouth, a small pearly shimmer of something that was his gliding over your tongue.

This distraction wasn’t working. Fuck. Aaron felt the drops of sweat run down his back — despite all his cardio, his dress shirts were tight and warm now with the brutal pace he’d set. God, you were exquisite. Knees spread wide on the seat, bottom of your ass resting on your ankles on either side of his thighs. Wide-open and fucking gorgeous. He wanted to make you come around his dick again. He needed to make you come around his dick again. To feel what only his fingers felt earlier, how you’d squeeze and pulsate and buck your hips to get deeper and more. Fuck.

His tie hung loosely over your back and occasionally censored you from his view. Breathing hard, Aaron flung it away and — acting on some kind of instinct or just pure debauchery — he pooled spit in his mouth and let it drop down so it hit that perfect little asshole of yours. You obviously felt it — he heard both a gasp and had to increase his grip so you wouldn’t fly right off his dick, but most of all he saw how you tightened and that little asshole became momentarily smaller. Fucking exquisite. He checked your reflection in the window, saw the full-on mask of pleasure, and more blood left his head to pump into his dick so he wondered if you would feel it thump inside of you.

He could debate how good of a distraction it was, but at least the sight of his spit running between your cheeks kept his focus from how his dick felt in your pussy. Aaron knew he was good at multi-tasking, but this was almost too much. Remembering to keep fingering your clit — aided by how you squirmed against his hand — and trying to keep a steady pace with his dick — again aided by how you also pushed back to meet his thrusts — and wetting his thumb thoroughly before gliding it over your asshole.

Worth it, he thought vaguely, based on those positively angelic sounds you made. Even with how you swore, it sounded like gospel. He barely remembered to ask if it was okay —if it was good, if this was accepted —so mesmerized at the sight. He had done this before — always carefully, always asking for permission — not really for any other reason that in some positions, it felt like your body offered it to him. And you liked it and where Aaron hadn’t had any particular fantasies about it before, it struck that caveman-gene in him again that this was another hole to fill with his cum. Another part of you to claim in the most depraved way possible.

Maybe down the line, but so far you had never gone further than what he did right now. Rubbing a slick finger around that tight little ring he couldn’t imagine fitting even his pinky inside. It took some willpower to let his hand follow the rhythm of your body — sometimes you pushed back against his dick so hard his finger would have poked into you whether you wanted it to or not — but he wanted this to be good for you. Needed this to be good for you.

But when you told him to fuck you, and rub your clit, and don’t stop, he wasn’t going to question it.

He groaned, mostly because of how you squeezed your pussy around his dick — again like a tight fist that you might as well have sucker-punched him with — as he pushed the very tip of his thumb into your ass. Tight. Hot. Only wet because of his spit, but based on your sounds, not exactly painful. He rubbed your clit harder, hoping to ease any discomfort there was or at least distract from it, and worked his thumb gently around. A vision of his thumb buried down to the hilt floated across his mind. Another way to grip you, using your ass as a balance hole to pull you back onto his dick, and he closed his eyes while involuntarily working your clit harder as if he could transfer some of his quickly approaching climax into you.

Another time, he reminded himself and tried to focus on your words. That didn’t help. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Aaron, please don’t stop. And in the same breath, you told him to come inside you — to fill you up — and that you were moving in with him and you wanted him to keep going and he couldn’t.

On your instructions, his thumb was inside to the first knuckle and he could feel himself now, could feel his dick where he was balls-deep inside of you. The further his thumb went in, the easier it got too, almost like you were sucking him in and he tried to remember to wiggle it around, loosening you up some, wanting this to feel good for you. But you were so tight and wet and you weren’t happy with how he’d slowed his pace on anything because you obviously wanted more.

He kept rubbing your wet little clit, almost on auto-pilot, but had to stop thrusting before he came before you. Did you have any idea of how good you felt? On his dick like this? Gushing wet and spread open and still so fucking tight? The slick sounds of his fingers on your clit drowned in your breathy pleas for him to keep going.

The words made it through the haze in Aaron’s mind, where all he could see was where the two of you were joined. Yes, he could do the fucking laundry. Yes, in his apartment. Yes, you were moving in. Yes, you were close to coming and you sounded so desperate he had to try. His wrist burned from circling your clit at the awkward angle, but he’d wear a wrist brace for the rest of the week if that meant feeling you lose yourself to a climax around him.

But he was so close. His balls tight and throbbing, bursting with cum he wanted to shoot inside of you. Wanted to watch it ooze out of your swollen glistening cunt afterward, use his fingers to push it back in, and then let you lick them clean. He wanted to do all of that. But not before you came first.

Almost holding his breath, he pulled his dick out with a lewd squelch, fighting to keep the rhythm on your clit even though you were squirming and swaying all over the place. Both of you were so close and you shoved your hips back to meet his next thrust, and your tight, tight asshole swallowed the rest of his thumb, and thank god that made you almost scream as you came because Aaron only lasted two — three — four more thrusts into your tight, tight pussy before he followed. He felt it in his whole body, the way the dam burst, and his nerve-endings exploded as he came.

The quiet forest engulfed his loud groan, the sound of your name in his chest, and your thin whimpers of unbridled pleasure. He desperately grabbed onto your hips to steady himself, keeping you from pulling away, wanting everything pumped into you. He halfway pulled back and buried himself all the way in again and grunted your name like he had traveled ten thousand years to the past and reduced to nothing but animal instincts. His balls pulsated, shooting string after string of cum into you, more than he would have expected. Hopefully enough. Filling you up to the brim, just like you’d fucking asked for, and enough to eventually run out of you to coat that expensive lace he’d bought today.

He clutched your hips like a lifeline — like you’d clutched that folder earlier today in his office — like your pussy clutched and milked his dick. He still twitched inside of you, still on the cusp of the orgasm, and he breathed hard to counteract the light-headedness. You were so perfect for him in every way, just so tight that he could feel his own cum coat around his dick in the limited space.

I love you, he thought and memorized every curve and line of your back, not enough breath in his lungs to say it just yet. Slowly coming down, he massaged your hips where he had left his marks yet again. Fingerprints dug into your skin in slight bruisings, ones you seemed to appreciate. You breathed equally hard as him, but looked at him over your shoulder, so flushed and gorgeous and deserving of the world.

I love you.

It was in your eyes, your smile, and often coming out your mouth too. Not right now as you only panted slightly, but you looked at him in a way that stole his breath away all over again.

I love you.

You had looked at him like that so many times before you said it for the first time, and Aaron knew you had held back. Patience. Trust. Understanding. It was in your every move and conversation with him. He didn’t know if he had earned it, but he hadn’t lied before of how grateful he was for it. Now it was his turn, he realized, to show you the same. To adapt to your schedule and your needs like you had done for him.

Like you were doing right now when the sound of his ring tone cut through the foggy aftermath of your orgasms. Not even hesitating, you reached out for his phone — Aaron swallowed a grunt when the movement pulled his dick from your gushing hole — and handed him both phone and some wet wipes. You had never tried to compete with either the job or Jack, and Aaron loved you for that too. Even if he deep-down knew he should have prioritized differently at times, you had made it so he didn’t have to. You had made everything so easy. Always, so easy, because apparently you felt he was worth it.

Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything but satisfaction in your eyes now either as you watched him try to listen to Garcia. If you kept this up, he might start to think he was worth it too.

He wanted to be worth it, he realized, watching the wicked glint in your eye when you sucked his fingers clean after the call ended. Wanted to have you and this and everything forever.

There were many reasons why Aaron loved you, but most of all because you had made him believe he could love again at all.

..

..

A/N: First time writing this "you"-style from Hotch's POV and looking for feedback. If it's confusing or if it’s unclear who’s POV it is. Also first time writing smut from a guy’s perspective and accepting feedback on that as well 🥰

As always, I strive to be inclusive of my reader-inserts, so please let me know if any descriptions or phrases needs changing.

Remember to reblog if you liked it! And that comments feed my creativity just as much as caffeine 💕

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #accidents #criminal minds fanfiction #tumblr exclusive

[romchomp]

nana rewatch notes- episode 16

-nana leaving with misato really struck hachi huh

-even now, yasu is a tough egg for me to crack. he’s probably the character i have the most difficulty understanding

-hmm why did nana come over?

-so misato might be in a similar situation to shin…

-based off of nana’s body language and (mostly) the shots paying attention to her eyes, i’m lead to assume that nana behaves around yasu in a similar way she does with hachi in the future. ie. there’s reluctance (but also desire) to show them her vulnerability.

-did she want to tell him about the other night? or did she go to yasu because she felt things might’ve been over with hachi- so hachi is actually reflective of ren in this scene?

-as a teen i mostly paid attention to nana and hachi’s relationship so i feel like im reading nana and yasu for the first time lol

-yasu telling nana he thinks she came over because something was wrong and that she wanted to talk about it feels like a confrontation to nana. she apologizes for coming “with no reason”, which isn’t true, and then leaves.

-i also dont think nana really knows how to spend time with someone without an exchanging something ie sex or band practice. her shame and fear of depending on others works well into it as well.

-so nana definitely has feelings for yasu lol

and this seems to be the first time yasu has been made aware of them. we as the viewer don’t know that much either. how long have nana’s feelings for yasu been a thing?

-i really like the make up scene between hachi and nana… a lot.

-for one, you can tell that arguing/fighting is out of both their comfort zones. neither of them are very confrontational (which will end up being a part of their demise).

-nana’s expression really says it all. she’s so relieved that hachi made amends. i don’t think it’s a reach to assume that nana thought this would end up being a permanent stain on their friendship.

-it’s just nice to see them make up is all. probably because this will be the only time we’ll see them successfully communicate with one another :)

-hachi is not stupid. i think her ability to connect past things nana has said to her that were subtle references to ren was actually very intuitive of hachi.

-it was just last episode that she was fantasizing about nana having sex with misato. this girl is out of control. yes this scene is meant to poke fun at how romantic and idealistic hachi is...but cmon this is GAY. why is she getting a nosebleed?? 

-hachi asking everyone but nana about her relationship with ren lol. one of many examples to show how scared hachi is to upset nana in case of jeopardizing their friendship.

-nobu told shin when he was drunk LMAAOOO. someone pls get shin out of here. let me not get into how fucked up it is the way all these characters expose shin to alcohol and relationship drama. i worry about him.

-okay paying attention to nobu and yasu is really important in this scene. it seems ooc for nobu to so strongly disagree with hachi’s fantasy of nana and ren getting together, but it makes a lot of sense considering it was that same stubbornness of his that was beaten down after forcefully facing the flaws of his ideals after their break up. yasu is silent until asked a question: is it possible that ren still has feelings for nana? and yasu says yes. yasu has nothing to gain from saying this, and we know it’s what he genuinely believes, and that is basically confirmation.

-the small gags of hachi not doing her work bc she’s too busy blatantly obsessing over nana at her desk are SO FUNNY. nana lives in her mind rent free and hachi doesn’t even question it.

-LOOK WHO’S BACK!!! god im so obsessed with this small interaction. for one, it’s pretty obvious this is a regular occurrence. now the show is adding yet another relationship that we need to know more about. yasu was the only person ren consolidated in about leaving the band. even now, after going a-wall on nana and nobu, yasu is someone ren goes to and whom he trusts.

previous episode

next episode

#nana #ai yazawa #episode 16 #the one and only time hachi and nana successfully communicate #im really struggling with nana and yasu lol #hopefully i can understand their dynamic more as we go

[cotton-candy-in-a-thong]

Noncon stories, Fantasy vs. Reality, and more. fucking. issues.

Recently, I’ve been hit with some drama as to why I’m a “bad person” by various, anonymous users in this fandom. I thought I’d try to address the claim, address my stance on fics that involve noncon, and what I think about the “Tumblr mentality” after everything I’ve seen of this place. I should also note that I’m going to use the specific words and phrases I’ve been forced to constantly repeat as explaining my stance has been very difficult for me, as I’m a person who’s apparently challenging to understand.

This is going to be a long post, with subjects that's obviously going to trigger people so here's a warning right now..

That being said, I’m going to dive into this with some shit I’ve definitely said before:

“Consensual Noncon” Kink

The Appeal of this Theme in Fanfiction:

I don't think calling fics that involve noncon "rape fics" and those who enjoy it "getting off to rape" is a very good way to put it. Many engaging and well done media pieces often involve some very dark themes. Again, Monster by Meg and Dia is a song that features the main character sexually abusing a girl he met. You COULD call this a "rape song", but acting as if the rape is the only thing that matters in this story would be pretty..naive. The story has to do with an emotionally, and physically neglected/abused boy, who grows up and becomes an attention/love starved monster who's SO starving for validation, that he believes forcing himself upon a girl he knew would "prove" to himself that he's capable of being touched and loved. Of course, the main character eventually realizes that rape is not love, that what he did was wrong, and later kills himself in his own bathtub with kerosene and a match.

However, the assault aspect of this song is still a meaningful and alluring part because it talks about how emotional and physical abuse can warp someone's perspective on reality, to the point where they think forcing someone to "stay" with them is how to create a healthy relationship. That's the same energy I have for noncon fics, especially in the slasher fandom. Many slasher fics that contain noncon often have to do with the slasher preying on the reader because of their own fucked up mind. It's intriguing because, let's be honest, pretty much none of the slashers are in a pretty good mental space lmao. Thus, noncon actually falls more in line with how slashers would go about what they believe is a "good relationship" more often than quite a bit of fans here seem to believe. Again, Michael got boners, Jason chained someone up, Fredddy smooches people against their will, Billy Lenz is a sex offender, Chromeskull makes snuff, yada yada yada, you know the drill. That being said, it's interesting to see noncon being expressed with these characters because it gives us a new perspective on how fucked up they'd likely be if the world of sex and relationships was introduced to these characters.

Now why would some people become sexually aroused by the events of the story? First of all, how does “Consensual Noncon” kink work?

u/Jumbledcode. (2015). ‘Can anyone comment on why people (someone like me) enjoy rape/non-con story lines?’. r/TwoXChromosomes.

“I'd suggest that there are several factors that make up the appeal of non-con fantasies.

Guilt/Self-image: For many people, their sexual/relationship desires don't necessarily match their image of themselves, or alternatively they feel guilt over others' perceptions of those desires. Rape fantasies allow them to mantain some illusion of denial over their desires while still indulging in the idea of them.

Responsibility/Laziness: The appeal of abdicating control isn't limited to avoiding guilt; it's very tempting to want a scenario where you have no responsibility for maintaining your lifestyle/happiness. Similarly to before, it's the appeal of being given what you secretly want without even having to choose it.

Transgressiveness: A rape scenario has overtones of danger and taboo-breaking. These can easily be exciting and can therefore be a turn-on.

Desire: Being wanted is often a huge turn-on, and the idea of someone desiring you enough to break laws and disregard everything to have you plays into this feeling.

To me, it seems that most people who fantasize about being the subject of rape do so due to some mix of these motivations I've mentioned. Of course, there are also those who have experiences which have taught them to associate non-consent with their sexuality, but that's a separate issue”.

What if the Fanfic Only Involves the Act though? Wouldn’t it Encourage Actual Rape?

Let’s differentiate fantasy and reality. Towards those with the noncon kink: it offers arousal because of the ideas listed above (the idea of the reader not having to make any moves and the character doing the “intimate work” FOR them, the excitement of such a taboo sexual encounter, and the feeling to be desired through an altered, brutish encounter). Rape is the use of sex to remove control over the victim’s mind and body. The readers DO have control over whether or not they get to “encounter” (the choice to even read) this fantasy, so right away consent is present in reality, and no actual rape is being done.

Now does this mean that the kinkers are getting off on the idea of rape? Not really.

The thing with self-inserts is that it allows you to be connected to the story. That way, even if the story has you bruised up and begging for mercy, a part of you-you (if you’re a kinker) wants to keep reading it as you find it exciting. That way, as you and story-you are connected, what you really want in such a fantasy is for it to keep going despite the brutish, possessive, however yet desired nature of the character you’re dreaming about dealing with. (repeat: the idea of the reader not having to make any moves and the character doing the “intimate work” FOR them, the excitement of such a taboo sexual encounter, and the feeling to be desired through an altered, brutish encounter). That being said, it’s still entirely possible for kinkers to have their personal space and wishes crossed, and ultimately assaulted. Us enjoying the fantasy of such a reverie sexual encounter does not spell out to real life because (in reality) we’re not horny all the time, we would still like our bodies to be respected when we find it necessary, and we still have feelings as we’re still human.

“Fantasy (including video games) leads to violence” fallacy.

It would be like assuming that shooters in games like GTA fantacise about murder, encourage it, and would do it in real life. Taking fabricated anger out on virtual bodies or NPCs is quite different from the weight of murder (the killing of another human being). One can play video games with lots of violence towards such fabricated characters, while discouraging violence towards human beings. The act of using a game controller to beat up Donkey Kong in Smash, to shoot Nazi zombies in a Black Ops game, or to kill a Geisha in Little Nightmares is incredibly, and immensely different from completely eradicating the life of a person on Earth, and to assume that everyone who plays violent video games would spill out to violence in reality would be to participate in a ridiculous fallacy. Yes, there are outliers who are feeble minded enough to let their fantasies influence their actions towards actual people, but I must repeat that there are also people who utilize these fantasies for their personal satisfaction, while understanding the weight of the real world around them (and choosing not to act so detrimentally). Therefore, it wouldn’t be fair as it would be unnecessary to blatantly say that all fantasies are horrible and should be entirely eradicated if there ARE many people who ARE aware enough to understand that some thoughts are better off staying in fiction.

Now is the time to address what’s been said:

...Firstly, I think it’s very disgusting that random users, on Tumblr of all places, are trying to manipuate random victims of sexual assault into hating something or someone just because these users FEEL like “it’s the right thing to do”.. People, victims of sexual assault aren’t your fucking dogs. They’re not carriage horses, they’re not your work mules, they’re not your guns and swords...they’re just people who normally wanna be left the fuck alone like everyone else. Plus, there ARE people who have experienced sexual assault who take joy in reading such dark storylines. What would these users have to say to them? That they’re not “real” victims? That what they’ve experienced “never happened”? That they’re “just like” their own perpetrators for using the consensual nonconsent to miraculously help them overcome their trauma? Should they really abandon their coping mechanism just because there are other victims who cope in different ways?

..If you seriously believe that all people who have gone through a traumatic event are gonna cope in the exact same fucking way, you literally don’t even know enough about PTSD to even be making a bold statement about cope.

This is the part where I finally realized that people, and especially those on Tumblr, don’t actually care about rape victims as much as they may claim. Many users on here, on this platform and in this fandom, don’t truly give a flying monkey shit about rape victims as people, nor what they have to say about the subject. Rape victims..on this place..seem to be used mainly as a means of figurative weaponry for a group’s subjective morality.

I find the similarity close to radical feminism. Radical feminists often believe that women, from near and far, have to do everything in their power to “destroy” the patriarchy. This would mean disobeying the societal expectation of women, even if there are some women who take joyment in engaging in some societal standards for their personal liking. An example would be sex work. Radical feminists acknowledge the flaws in performing sex work, but believe that NO woman should EVER partake even if the woman wants to do it out of her own free will. In demonizing and ostracizing any woman who doesn’t fall into the radical feminist agenda, radical feminists actually contradict their purpose to “let women be free”. At this point, you realize that radical feminists often don’t actually give a fuck about what any woman wants for herself. Instead, radical feminists want to utilize any woman they can find just to flip off men as a group.

In Tumblr users trying to “stand up” for rape victims for their personal “holier-than-thou” ego, they fail to care enough about the very people they defend to understand the dynamics of some of their coping mechanisms, thus begin to bully some members of the group they claim to protect because of the very narcissism, misunderstanding, and controlling nature going on behind their own “activism”. So now that some users have found something to hate, in this case being noncon stories, they attempt to manipulate victims of rape into ostraciszing and demonizing fantasies and other victims of rape just because the “activists” themsleves don’t like it. Even trying to argue that rape victims have a “duty” to agree with everything these “activists” try to do for them.

Sounds awfully familiar to the attitude democrats have towards any minority when it’s time to vote. “I care about you...but you have to agree with everything I say and believe because I want what I think is best for you. If you disagree with me, you’re ungrateful and a traitor”.

Now...a little about myself.

I’m not sure of everyone else who’s into the noncon type of story, but I use it to get away from my past. In noncon stories, I want to read what happens in the chapters. I want to imagine them for morbid curiosity and arousal I feel at the time being. In reality, my attackers didn’t care when I wasn’t in the mood, and never gave me a choice. In noncon stories, I get to choose the character I want to encounter in the fantasy and NOT have it picked FOR me. In real life, I didn’t get to choose who did some things to me. In noncon stories, I get to stop reading them and do something else whenever I’m not feeling it anymore. In reality? My attackers kept going because, in the situation, it was no longer up to me. After noncon stories, my body doesn’t walk away with bruises, bite marks, and physical reminders every time I take my clothes off or try to masturbate. In real life...that shit can mark you, disease you, and then traumatize you. With the stories, I get to delete my search history, join another fandom, and act like nothing ever happened. For reality? Your own body is a reminder of what happened because it was real. In reality, I’m NEVER gonna fucking forget what happened. I’ll be lucky if my own mind and body doesn’t haunt me for at least one day..

So seeing that someone, and probably multiple people not only tried to use victims of sexual assault for their own “go get em” dogs, but to try and phrase me as someone who loves and encourages such an assault on human beings? After the things I felt? After the things I tasted? After pathetically searching for the support of relatives, just to get shut down with “you’re lying”?..

...All the times I've been held down..threatened..clothes getting snagged off..parts being opened and touched after I've fought to just get the fuck away from certain people...

According to this anon..."she likes rape".

...I guess I just fucking LOVED EVERYTHING THEN.

You know...all my life I’ve been misunderstood by many people. It’s honestly really disappointing that even now when I’m better at explaining myself than ever, I’m STILL being phrased as a “psychopath” by random people who haven’t even taken the time to even know me. Not even from a minute-long conversation through a damn computer screen. And you wanna know the funny thing? I’m probably being laughed at as this is being read. Some of these users, these internet stalkers, are probably giggling, smiling, and saying “Haha YES we GOT the bitch!! Cry you piece of shit SLUT!!”. So maybe explaining my past experiences to help everyone understand why some people may use noncon stories to their fantasy advantage is gonna land me messages going: “You haven’t been raped you lying bitch”, “Maybe you should get raped again”, “You definitely enjoyed it”, and the overused, yet strong “Kill yourself”.

So how am I gonna end this message? With me saying that many of you, who THINK you’re doing the right thing by justifying harassment and trying to manipulate others into joining your little crusade to bully people away from the fandom (over extremely mundane fucking things)...aren’t really good people. At best, in this case...you’re fucking stupid. You will never truly speak for any of the marginalized groups you claim to know like the back of your hand. Simply, you will never. be. a hero.

If by chance, by an astrological chance..that any random user wants to come up and apologize out of the blue for talking such shit and for saying such things..I don't even wanna hear it...just get the fuck out of my face..

#slashers #slasher fandom #tw noncon #consensual noncon #fandom drama #long post #past experiences #anon ask