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mtcloudsworld · 3 months ago
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𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, oral (p receiving), messy, black!fem intended BUT it can be anybody, pudgy!reader, thick!reader, chubby!reader, put that pussy to sleep, pet names: love, baby, I did edit it, but in case of any errors, ignore it :)
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | this was originally intended for Red hood but it could honestly be anybody you have in mind. I hope everyone is doing well. Stay safe, remember to drink lots of water and eat. Like, comment and reblog. Enjoy lovebugs!! 🦠🩷
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"Mm, you taste so good, love." Laid up underneath him in your white babydoll. Dressed in lingerie, and wrapped in lace and mesh like a present on Christmas day─ it revealed the most sacred parts of your voluptuous physique. Exposed to his body heat, he warms you up like a fireplace as his hands adventure towards your hips. Bracing yourself to the contact of his mouth, it sends shivers down your spine when you feel his tongue lick long stripes up your center. You whined lowly, clinging to the stuffed animal that was on your bed. You bury your face into the plush teddy to muffle your moans. For the sake of those who are sleep, you didn't want to disturb anyone's slumber with your raunchy sounds─ your boyfriend didn't really give a damn but he proceeded to eat you out sloppily anyways.
Careless that he was making a mess, your juices dripped on the side of his face─ enjoying the very meal he missed out on for almost a week. He was relentless, hungry and quenching of thirst, for a taste of you. Popping, smacking sounds filled the room as he latched his mouth to your lower lips. The vibrations sending a tickle to your clit. His hands gripped around the fat of your ass to press you further down. You squealed in surprise. Shooting up in your kneeling position, you looked down at your boyfriend slithering his tongue between your folds. You nearly clenched your legs closed at the weird sensation of his tongue entering your leaking hole and instead of running away from him, you practically sat yourself on his (your) heavenly throne.
"Mmph, baby." He grunts in approval, eyes nearly going cross eyed at how your chunky thighs veiled his head. Loving how you were suffocating him with the very thing he would kill for. It was warm and tight, sticky, lewd and soft. The wetness of your arousal soaked around your inner thighs as he devoured your sweet center. You gripped at the sheets, clenched your eyes shut as you started to rock back and forth. Your breathing grows heavy as you begin to ride his mouth at a moderate speed. Heart eyes rolling and head lulling back, your lips part at the wave of fulfillment overwhelming you.
"Oh, baby, m'gon cum." You moaned, voice quivering a little. He hums in acknowledgement, tapping your thigh for you to quicken your pace. He starts to make out with your cunt, sucking and flicking at your clit till your movement was still. There was a silence that had fallen over the room. Your chest rises and falls once your upper body has met the mattress with a tired huff. Moaning softly, his tongue licks up the mess he had made, your juices dripping along his chin, he sucks you off the rest of the way. Giving your pussy one last kiss, he moves from under you. Turning to grab the towel that was on the floor, he glances over you about to wipe your thighs when he hears soft grunting sounds escape from your lips. He chuckles, realizing he put your ass to sleep.
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃
𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
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polydeuces · 5 months ago
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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊
𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)
𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.
𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.
ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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He was supposed to be the predator.
You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.
It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.
So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.
It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.
You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.
You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.
But you could see it—the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.
So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.
Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.
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do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.
note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !
important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.
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prettygirl-gabi · 4 months ago
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Just a lil taste
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Rating:Mature Audiences Warning:Smut,fluff, mingi being a munch!!, pet names:baby;ma, fingering, oral sex (f reseving), Mingi cums in his sweats, dirty talk...mainly from Mingi
Category:F/M
Fandom:ATEEZ (Band)
Relationships: !idol Mingi x ! Black make-up artist f reader
Summary: You’re ATEEZ’s makeup artist and Mingi's girl...so it's only right he eats you out before the concert right....
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The makeup room buzzed with the usual pre-soundcheck energy. I glanced at the clock, mentally reminding myself we had about an hour and half until Ateez was due on stage. My kit was spread across the vanity in front of me—foundation, powders, brushes, everything meticulously laid out to make sure Mingi looked flawless under the lights.
But of course, Mingi was determined to make things difficult.
He was perched on the couch behind me, long legs sprawled out as he twirled his phone in one hand. His gaze, though, was fixed on me. He had that mischievous smirk that always made my stomach flip, like he was up to something.
“You know,” he drawled, his deep voice like a warm hum against my back, “you look way too good to be stuck doing my makeup right now.”
I turned and raised a brow at him. “Mingi, don’t start. We don’t have time for your shenanigans.”
He sat up, leaning forward, and suddenly, he wasn’t just looking at me—he was watching me. His eyes dragged slowly from my faux locs tied up in a loose bun, to my pleated skirt that ended just above my knees. When his gaze settled on my thighs, I knew I was in trouble.
“Thick thighs save lives, huh?” he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
I groaned, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks. “Focus, Song Mingi. Face. Makeup. Now.”
But instead of getting up, he slid off the couch and knelt on the floor, his tall frame making the move look almost absurd. At 6’1", he was towering even when on his knees, while I—at a very proud 4’10"—couldn’t help but feel ridiculously tiny in comparison.
“Mingi!” I hissed, glancing at the open door. Thankfully, everyone else was busy, but still. “What are you doing?”
He grinned up at me, hands resting on my knees. “You taste like cinnamon, you know that?”
I blinked, momentarily stunned. “Excuse me?”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my bare thigh just above the top of my knee-high socks. His voice was lower this time, more intimate. “Last night. Remember?”
Oh, I remembered. And that was not the point right now.
“Mingi, we do not have time for this!” I tried to sound stern, but my voice wavered, betraying me.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Baby, we’ve got plenty of time. Just a little snack before you start?”
I slapped his shoulder lightly. “I am not a snack!”
“You’re right,” he said, his tone completely serious now. “You’re the whole damn meal.”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me. “You are ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously in love with you.” His lips brushed against my skin again, this time lingering just long enough to make my breath hitch.
“Mingi…” I whispered, torn between pushing him away and letting him continue.
“Hmm?” He looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes that always got him whatever he wanted.
I sighed, defeated. “Fine. Five minutes. Five. Then you’re letting me do your makeup.”
His grin widened as he gently pushed my knees apart, making space for himself. “I won’t waste a second, baby.”
his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my lace panties, his touch setting my skin on fire.
I let out a shaky breath as his middle and ring fingers worked their magic, his touch both gentle and deliberate as he drew soft whimpers from my lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips pressed just above my clit, never leaving my skin sending vibrations as his fingers moved in a rhythm that made my head spin. “So soft, so perfect… all mine.”
“Mingi,” I gasped, my grip on his hair tightening as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.
He pulled his now plump lips away from my still needy pussy only to rest his head on my inner thigh looking up at me.
“That’s it, ma,” he said, his voice low and full of pride. “Let go for me. Hmm, I know you can. Feelin your pussy clenching my fingers.
I left out a soft gasp feeling him blow cold air on my soft, puffy pussy bright before attaching his mouth back to my clit and pumping his fingers fast.
"C'mon baby, mm cum f'me yeah." I said through mumbles mouth still attached to me.
And I did, my body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over me. Mingi held me steady, his strong hands keeping me grounded as I rode out the high on his fingers and tongue.
As I came down, he looked up at me with a satisfied smirk, his fingers still resting gently on my thigh. “Feeling better now?” he asked, his tone teasing.
I nodded, my cheeks flushed as I tried to catch my breath. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my inner thigh. “And you smell so good. Like cinnamon with a hint of vanilla to baby, like a fuckin cinnamon roll.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I repeated, but my voice was breathy now, and I couldn’t stop my fingers from threading through his hair.
“And you’re perfect,” he countered, glancing up at me with a look that made my heart skip a beat.
He shifted, getting off his knees fixing his now stained sweats and standing between my legs. Burying his head in the crook of my neck giving me some slightly wet kisses while suckling harshly in some spots.
Gripping the back in my head to get more access to make room to mark more areas.
“Mingi,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, baby?”
“You’re gonna mess up my locs.”
He chuckled, the sound muffled against my skin, before pulling his head from my neck, he tilted his head to kiss the top of my faux locs, lingering for just a moment. “There. All fixed.”
“You’re impossible,” I said, resting cheek on his chest, as his finger found my chin making me look up at him.
“And you love me for it.” He leaned down to kiss me softly, his lips still tasting faintly of cinnamon even after licking his lips clean of my cum.
I sighed against his lips, knowing I’d lost this battle but not entirely upset about it. “Alright, munch. Sit down so I can do your makeup.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a playful salute, settling into the chair in front of me, after helping me off the vanity.
I picked up my foundation brush and started working, he watched me with a soft smile, his hands resting on my thighs pulling me close between his legs.
“Stop trying to distract me more,” I muttered, though I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said innocently, squeezing my thigh lightly.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t move his hand. Maybe he was impossible, but he was my impossible, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
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ask-jax-things · 4 months ago
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Ask me anything, or don’t. I don’t care.
I’m not doing any character introduction because you obviously know who I am, who wouldn’t? ✨
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Rules:
There will be some adult language/themes so mature audiences only ((15+))
Don’t send me donation asks. The only thing you will receive in return is an instant block and a report <3
NSFW is fine, ya freaks.
None of the following is canon ((I know it’s unfortunate))
Ships are fine and I don’t care who with ((the main one on this account is funnybunny but I’m open to any others))
Remember this is just for fun darlin’, so don’t get your hopes up too high ;)
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⚠️ language, drinking, smoking, drugs, violence, blood, suggestive themes/remarks ⛔️
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Here are the other circus morons
Gangle: @theatreribbons
or @ask-gangle-blog
Kinger: @asksuperlightextras
or @askkingertheking
Pomni: @ask-pomni-things ❤︎
Zooble: @zooble-the-whatever-i-am
Ragatha: @ask-ragatha-tadc
Queenie: @askthequeen
Bubble: @ask-bubbletadc
Caine: @ask-teeth-eyes
AU Jax/Gangle: @ask-jaxy-boy
Gummigoo: @ask-gummigoo
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And some other random losers that talk to me for some reason
Ayuda: @shortmomma1993
Hoppy: @justsomeonewow
Lucifer: @madly-enthusiastic
Alastor: @voxtechsmells (send bomb threats)
Angel Dust: @ask-angel-dust-w
or @angeldust-thestar
Sir Pentious: @sirpentious-presious
Vox: @voxtechsmellsgreatactually
Niffty: @nifftyyyyy
Bucket: @bubble-trubble-and-co
Beezlebub: @ask-the-queen-beelzebub
Moe cult leader: @specified6
Rosie: @askyourauntierosie
Blitz: @blitzascbog
Mabel Pines: @mabel-pines-the-best
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Jax’s Inventory:
Rocket launcher 🤯
Uno reverse card 🔄
Switch 🎮
Shotgun (x2) 💥
Molotov cocktails (3 uses left) 🍾
Sniper 🎯
Flamethrower (x2) 🔥
Lemon bars (5 uses left) 🍋
$1009 🤑
Glitter bomb 🪩
Cookies (8 uses left) 🍪
Tea (1 gallon) ☕️
Baby bunnies (5 of them) 🐇
A tank 🥰
Vape pen (36 uses, 6 at a time) 💨
Cocaine ❄️
Gasoline (10 gallons) ⛽️
Pistol (x6) 🔫
Machine gun ⚙️
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Ooc Intro:
Hi! I’m @digital-fand0m! I have another TADC ask blog @ask-the-moon-tadc if you wanna check that out 😏 I’m gonna be answering asks/roleplaying as Jax. Also, I don’t have any connections with Glitch or Gooseworx and this is not an official Jax blog, so none of the following is canon. And just remember we’re here to have fun, SO LETS PARTYYY 🥂🤪
Asks are open, ask me anything!
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ineffableclassics · 9 months ago
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"Crowley, this is a disaster. This is everything I ever wanted. We’re in love. And there’s a picnic. And we don’t seem to be able to get…amorous without causing earthquakes.”
Aziraphale attempts subterfuge. Crowley sees right through him.
Words: 11,014
Status: Complete
Rating: Mature
By @jess-the-reckless
This is a locked fic
Art Credit: Breaking Up A Picnic by J. C. Leyendecker
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boy-in-red-dress · 8 months ago
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It's out...
Here
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kuro-ttsuki · 1 year ago
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𝖱𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖲𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 | 13 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖶𝗁𝗒
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This is a short story based on the show 13 Reasons Why and the song Romantic Homicide by D4vd.
Please be warned that this story contains R*PE, s*icide, s*xual assault, s*xual scenes and m*rder
Introduction
Juliana Foley, the twin sister of Liberty High's most beloved athlete and heart throb, Justin Foley. Now this isn't a cheesy sitcom where one twin is popular, leaving the other twin in the dust of irrelevancy, both twins were born into the poor life. They had a drug addict of a mother and her river of abusive drug addict boyfriends that did not supply her addict but their endless trauma.
They had nothing but the dirty rags as clothes on their backs and each other, well until they met an angel in disguise Bryce Walker. He did not only befriend the Foley twins and basically helped build their nonstop relevancy today's high school popularity but he was their family, their everything. To Justin, Bryce was a best friend, a brother. But to Juliana, he was her first kiss, first love, first boyfriend, her... rapist; but we'll get to that last part later on.
Juliana Foley, Liberty High's cheer captain and class president, the boys there kissed the ground she walks on while the girls envy the air she breaths out. She was pure perfection at it's best, the most likely to succeed in life, they both were. So beloved, so admired but yet one person, and 13 tapes ruined that within seconds. Everything they built together came crumbling down their feet once a girl named Hannah Baker came into their life and shared their secrets. A domino effect has occurred....
Present Time | A week after her death
With how hard her heels slammed against the cold concrete as she stomped her way towards Bryce's house, she was surprised they didn't break under the pressure or even cause a mini earthquake.
The girl practically seething with pure anger after hearing Hannah's tapes, she was the last one Tony gave it to before giving it to Clay Jensen, Hannah's best friend. You'd think with what Hannah said about her, she'd be scared about the tapes coming out like the rest of the group but no. One, her tape wasn't as bad as the others, it was her secrets that was bad. Secrets that Hannah shared. Secrets like Bryce fuckin Walker.
After not only hearing that Bryce was cheating but that he raped Jessica, and Hannah. And to think she was the only one and she bared that constant pain for so long, hoping that he doesn't do it to anyone else and yet he did, behind her back even. Manipulating her to keep her mouth shut and just smile, making her think she was fucking delusional to even think her boyfriend would do that to her but no. She faced the cold hearted truth once hearing those tapes and that truth felt like a bullet to the face.
Upon hearing the tapes she realized something, not only does she know the truth but so does everyone in the friend group, they all knew what kind of monsters they were all while Bryce was the devil and yet...they chose to do nothing, to say nothing as if the tapes were a lie. How could they? Her friends? Her brother? Everyone.
How could they do that to her. Most importantly how could they do that to Hannah.
Her fist left a burning hot pain on themselves for how hard she was slamming them against Bruce's front door. She knew his every day schedule like the back of her hand, his parents are on a business trip leaving him alone and since it's a Saturday, he's definitely by himself; Saturdays were their 50 shades of gray kind of night. I know, so young but yet they fuck like sex hungry thirty year olds.
"Bryce Fuckin' Walker, Open The Damn Door!" Her voice sounded angry but really it withered with pain, afraid that she might cry in his presence about what she just learned. It felt like hours with how long the girl stood there, injuring her fist trying to get her so-called "boyfriend" to open the door. No luck. No luck for a good thirty more minutes and then hearing the sound of a door lock being unlocked made her stop immediately.
Taking a step back to fix her outfit and composer she watched as his face slowly emerged from being the door, looking all handsome with confusion written all over his face. It was hard, it was hard to hate him. After being involved with him for so long, after everything he did for her, for her brother. It was so fuckin hard to hate that face, she fell in love with that face. With that man and to finally come to the conclusion of what he truly is, is so heartbreaking.
Her lips trembled and then flattened as she tried her hardest to speak the words that were already formed and played out in her head. "I heard the tapes." Her tone was quiet, her demeanor was weak, she sounded pathetic, not at all mad as she was minutes ago. She hated how much control he had over her.
His face stayed the same, in fact it was relaxed. Not alarmed at all that his girlfriend now knows the truth. It was like he knew, no matter how he played it, the outcome would be the same, she won't go to the cops and she won't leave him. It was only how he was going to play it out to get that outcome and so, he played the clueless role. "I don't understand what you're talking about."
"The tapes, Bryce." Annoyance danced around her voice, "Hannah Baker's tapes. I heard them, all of them so don't play fucking stupid. Everything. I was right about everything, about who you are and you made me always feel stupid but now I got proof!" She was met with silence, in fact, she was met with a remaining calm composer as if he just knew she was bluffing.
This made her frustrated.
"Why are you not worried?" There was hesitation in her voice, she was confused, angry, and scared all at once. She didn't even recognize the boy she fell in love with. "I—I'll ruin you. I can turn you in, turn them in.."
"No you won't."
No she won't? Why did he say it so casually, so confident. Why wasn't he breaking? ....Why did she want him to?
"Yes- yes I will. You don't know who you're playing with." There, the hesitation sat at the base of her throat, giving him the go that she was bluffing. "No you won't." He stated again, this time disturbing her personal space, his eyes glued to her, his flatten lips twitching into a smirk. " You know why you won't? Because you don't have the tapes right now and your brother is on the tapes, so is your friend Zach, so is your bestie Jessica, everyone Jules. If I go down, we all do. Dominic affect."
Fuck he was right, he didn't even need to bring up the fact that she wouldn't turn him in because she also still love him, maybe that one was obvious but still, she was furious.
With one quick slap that smirk was whipped clean off, she couldn't help it.. She hated how confident he was, how right he was..How calm, like he acknowledged his sins and doesn't have remorse. How could he do that?
To her, to those girls. How could he cheat on her like that? How could he be the main reason a girl killed herself and he doesn't have remorse? She was disgusted. "We're fuckin done. If I see your face or if you even try to talk to me or look in my direction, I'll squeal and bring everyone down with me. If you don't have remorse, I won't either." Her words taste like venom on her tongue but that's how she felt deep in her gut. She hated him, she despised him but with all of that, at the same time it broke her.
He was her angel, her first everything and he turned out to be a devil in disguise and he's protected too, why? He's a rich white boy in America surrounded by money and jock friends that worship him like he's a god. It was sickening really.
Her heels clanked against the concrete once again, making a bitter melody as she walked herself home that night. Hannah and everything she said flashed in her head like a flashback. That poor girl, that poor pitiful girl. You know at the same time Juliana felt bad but she despised the girl too? She went after Jules brother and kept seeing him, she went after Zach and even Bryce. Oh Lord Bryce, just the thought of them two .....it felt like flashes of burning heat burning in her stomach.
Home, she didn't know why she bothered going home. She knew Justin wasn't there, home was the last place the twins would even be. Bryce was always their second home, their hideaway from hell, and now it's not even that for her anymore. Upon arriving at their shitty apartment, Juliana slowly upon the door, mentality cursing at how loud this door can be when they're trying to sneak in, luckily no one was there, well, until she closed the door.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Seth, Juliana and Justin's mom's boyfriend and well, shit bag drug dealer. One time he tried to make a move on her and Justin tried to protect her honor only to get his ass kicked. "I went to Bryce's house " Her words were short and bitter which was strike one to him, but before anything could happen amber saved the day by convincing her lousy, shit hole, white trash boyfriend back to their room, she didn't even bother to look at her daughter. But then again, she was always a boy mom even though she was a shitty mom most of the time.
Letting out a breathy sigh, she quickly ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Tears crept up as her eyes were now swollen with them. God, what the fuck is she going to do.
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tiinnaaa · 5 months ago
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mtcloudsworld · 5 months ago
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𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑬 | nanami.k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: to put it simply, newlyweds in paradise.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: smut, mdni, +18, adult themes, married couple, vacation, plus!size reader, strong language, public fucking (?) insecurity, grinding, kissing, making out, creampie, p in v, (a tad bit) oral (f receiving), masturbation, fucking pet names: darling, daddy sweetheart, baby, doll
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑: I'm telling y'all nanami could get it anytime, i swear to god. If I had a second chance at life it would be to marry Nanami Kento and have five kids with two dogs and a house somewhere where it's less chaotic, less stress. Side note: I did edit this over a few times but it may need to be edited again. So if you see any errors, kindly ignore them :) thank you!
p.s: thank you for all the love and support y'all have shown in this post, it means the world to me <3<3<3
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Give me paradise and Husband!Nanami Kento any time of the day ─ somewhere, anywhere on a tropical island where it's sunny, peaceful, and sweet. Where things are slow and steady, unproblematic. Where life is starting to become more and more easier to handle.
As i walked around the villa in search of my hubsand. The crashing of waves gradually compels me to step out onto the porch past the white double doors. I feel myself absentmindedly inhaled the sweet scent of Jasmine and coconut. I stood there for a good minute just soaking it all in.
Soaking in what could be my future, what could have my life in a chokehold, what could be the start of a new chapter. The moment we looked at the reviews of the villa, they did not disappoint.
From the cleaniness of the land, the people, food and scenery, I fell in love with it all and the idea of starting a whole new life here. The view of the beach had me in awe and at the same time I felt at ease. So far nothing felt out of place or overwhelmingly discomforting.
If I were at home I would feel all the negative side effects that came with it.
Nonetheless, something catches my attention from the corner of my eye
As I turn my head to the left, I see him.
Lounged back in a chair, man-spreading causally dressed in a beige button-up with the first three buttons open and black slacks. A freshly pair of white air force ones and his famous silver watch on his left wrist.
Despite the wind blowing mildly his hair was pushed back in place with a couple of strands in his face. Eyes steadily gazing over the turquoise sea.
I slowly approached him with my heels clicking against the white porch. The tension in his shoulders soon disappeared when he caught a glimpse of me. The look on his face unreadable as he leisurely scans over my body. Selectively watching how my tits jiggle and hips switch with each step I take.
His mouth gaped slightly open, I could see the outline of his tongue dragging across the inside of his cheek to then close and clench his jaw. I even noticed how the muscle in his forearm flexed as his thumb proceeded to crack each finger before stretching them out. I was starting to feel a wave of emotions hit me all at once when he didn't say much. As I stood before him I was unsure if this reaction was of disapproval, shock or astonishment. I ask, "Do you not...like it?" My brows knitted out of concern as I continue to glance over him.
Dumbfounded, he scoffs with a shake of his head, brow raised at my choice of words. "Far from it, darling," He piqued, sitting back and observing me as if he was a guest at a fashion show, pondering over the model's appearance.
"You just look so fucking gorgeous. So perfect." He affirms bluntly. The desire in his orbs don't go unnoticed when they scale up to meet my gaze.
The anxious feeling from within disappears when the ends of his lips curl into a grin. Speechless and shy, I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks.
I could only assume this man was feeling like a dog in heat. Tilting his head sideways, he tells me to give him a little show. His finger moving around in circles I follow his instructions while he admires the roundness of my ass clinged by the very thing that snugged and pronounced every inch of my curves.
I wasn't on board with getting it at first. Due to my own insecurities, I hated how revealing it was. Since I wasn't used to skin-tight clothing, it made me feel exposed in a way. I was so used to wearing the usual baggy clothes, street and tomboy wear and keeping myself modest at times. This dress in particular failed to hide the crevices and shape of my anatomy from the naked eye.
The moment I stepped out of the dressing room that day, I could see it all over his face. He was persistent as hell in buying it, wasn't taking no ifs, ands, or buts as a response or to derail his decision. Passionately in love with how it emphasized me to a T, especially making my pudgy stomach visible, he gave me his card and told me to go purchase it. And after battling with myself internally, I obliged to it...only for his own pleasure.
He hummed pleasingly when he reached for me to sit comfortably on his lap with his hands placed at my hips he stations me and gives me a kiss on my cheek sweetly.
"I was wondering where you were. Should've known you were back here." I took my place on my heavenly throne (his lap) and draped my legs over his with one ankle over the other. Arm rested around his shoulder and my hand placed at his chest. While his large calloused hands occupied themselves along the planes of my body, his soft lips still left loving kisses to my cheek.
"I hope mother dearest looooves this dress." I snickered with sarcasm laced in my voice. I draw out the word "love" while I gaze down at myself. His attention drawn to my hands, adjusting the spillage of my cleavage. I try my best to make it less revealing, not wanting to hear her mouth about the importance of why women shouldn't dress the way I am. "Lord knows she'll have a hissy fit if I'm not looking my best." I murmured, mostly (out loud) to myself, "Dad? I'm not so worried about. He usually likes me in anything."
I was in my own little world for awhile till I looked over and realized his expressionless gaze had fallen on me.
I lock eyes with him moving my hair out of my face in the process to then stare in silence. Feeling awkward and off guard by the studied glare he gives me, I break the silence.
"What?"
He hums, "hm," eyes wandering over me shamelessly. He decides it's "nothing," but still, I could see the wheels turning.
And though I know, and it irks my nerves when he says it's ''nothing'' when really it's ''something''. My eyes squint at him not fully convinced.
Still unable to shake off the weird look on his face he then gives me a faint smirk. Elbow propped on the armrest, his fingers ghost over his chin, pointer finger grazing across his bottom lip to then pinches it in thought.
He chuckles.
"Whaaaat?" I draw out in laughter. "Why are you looking at me like that?!" I start to fidget with the ruffling of my dress, chuckling nervously.
"It's just..." he scoffs with a shake of his head and then sighs, ".. You look beautiful, baby. What you're wearing is perfectly fine. There's no reason for her to act out of character over it." He says gracefully, drawing attention to my obsessive fiaxtion on looking "perfect" for my mother. Knowing how my mother is, she always had an opinion on my appearance. It never fails.
My words may not say it, but my face surely will. As much as I say it doesn't bother me when she says something offhand about my curvy physique, it usually stings my feelings just as badly as an earlobe getting burned by a curling iron.
Gently, he goes to move a curl behind my ear to then stroke the side of my face in return.
"I'm trying, but you know how she is." I murmured, "One minute, she says she loves it, then the next she finds something to knit-pick at, it's not easy to satisfy her." I explain briefly, messing with the gold wedding band on his finger.
"I know," a sudden flash of sadness and yet annoyance blinds me and I sigh. Part of him loathed that I was deeply conditioned to feel ashamed by how curvy I am, that I needed to act or be a certain way in order to do xyz all because of my mothers antics. "But don't let it get to you. You always look good in everything." He confirms while his eyes drift over me, "I mean, you wore this dress for me, didn't you?" He asked in a way to disregard what my mother may think of me.
"Tch, yeah, and only for you." I snicker, glancing at him amusingly, "I wouldn't wear this for anybody else, not even myself." I mumbled the last part but he heard. Humming in response.
"Hm," he shifts himself comfortably beneath me and shrugs, stating, "it's still a working progress, though." Before giving me a small smile and places another kiss to my cheek. His words were true, little by little I was becoming more open to certain things and slowly crawling out of my reserved shell but it was still difficult.
"You should wear dresses like this more often, you look like a goddess." i could feel underneath the palm of my hand his chest rise and fall. Feeling his breath hit the side of my neck with kisses planted to my flesh, he nearly moans to my sweet aroma, "Mm, you smell so good," vanilla and honey, his favorite scent, I was pratcially flushed against him now.
My eyes fluttering close in awe, I bask in his affection. Cupping at his face, encouragingly my thumbs begin to rub along his sharp jawline. It slacks as he gives me open mouth kisses to the space below my jaw. I moan softly in response to the hard tent against my ass when I moved. A low groan rumbling in the depths of his chest, his hips shift a little in discomfort.
On high alert, I internally panic. Eyes wide, my attention grasp to his teeth suddenly beginning to nibble and suck at my flesh like a fucking leech.
"No─ No hickies, baby," I whined in reluctant disdain. "I don't want to be scolded by my mother─ Ah, shit, Nanami! ...Nanami, are you... listening to me?" I nudge his shoulder. His strong hand getting a good grip on my hip and the other on my thigh, his fingers dug into my fleshy barrier, thumb caressing left and right soothingly against my smooth skin he continues to keep going despite me scolding him.
Aside from my moans giving him a clear understanding that i was enjoying every bit of this, i still had a warning tone underneath it all.
I pull back to glare at him in bewilderment.
He deadpans.
"You're my wife, baby." He emphasizes, chuckling darkly.
He expresses, "If I wanna put a hickey on your neck. I'll gladly put a damn hickey on your neck. At least then it'll let everybody know you've been spoken for. She has no reason to meddle in our business."
He spoke with such deep annoyance. His focus still on me, unwavering, his lips skim over the place where he wanted them the most. Teeth nibbling again, he forms his territorial marking along my skin.
Purposefully making it visible for the next person to see, including my mother.
"You're a grown woman living a happily married life now. She doesn't need to be hovering over you anymore, questioning and controlling every aspect of your life like your some little kid." He claims bluntly, "you're grown enough to wear what you want, say what you want, do what you want without feeling judged or insecure. If she has a problem with that, then she can take it and shove it up her ass─ respectfully, of course." He says searching my eyes for some kind of understanding.
And when I didn't answer right away, my attention was drawn back to him with his hand cupping my jaw. "You understand me, sweetheart?"
I nod in response, "yes I understand, I'm sorry." I apologize, feeling bad for allowing that habit to get the best of me.
It was safe to say from the beginning that Nanami has always had a love-hate relationship with my mother.. mostly hate. It was hard accepting my mother for who she was. Harder enough to build a relationship with someone who always judged any and everything. Who loved to be in control and stuck in their own ways. Sometimes... he even wonders how my dad got into the mix of all this. He even asked if my dad got hoodwinked into marying her. Even though I found it hilarious at the time, I knew deep down he was deadass, deeply concerned. At some point, he just assumed my dad might need some savings down the road, saying he'll do just about anything to get him away from that woman. Because that's just how intense she was. My dad was the exact opposite of everything she was: forgiving, accepting, loving, considerate, sensitive, strong, selfless, he was everything l came to be and secretly mom despised that.
"Just..be yourself, love. Do what makes you feel comfortable, yeah?" He sighs, knuckles reaching up to brush over and against my cheek.
I could only nod, feeling a city of butterflies swarm inside my stomach. I instantly melt like a puddle when his orbs grew loving. When the gentle, patient yet understanding part of him I love so much has me wrapped his finger.
Long, slender, finger hooked underneath my chin, our faces were only inches away when his gaze pinned my lips. Planting a smooth smooch to my lips, I cuddle myself into him immediately and brush my nose against his. Giving him a few pecks in return turned our kisses to a deep, passionate make out session. Shared salvia, heavy breaths, audible moans and tongues in battle turned our lips swollen and beat red.
Sneaky hand that was once hooked underneath my knee soon slithered up and under my dress. Groping and kneading at my thigh all at the same time his other hand flatten at the small of my back to pressing my tits flushed against his harden chest. I froze when I feel his hand twist and snuggle in between my thighs to rub at my warmth.
Hesitant, my thighs clasps. "Baby, we don't have time... we have...less than... 10 minutes." I mumbled in the kiss. He gives me a wolfish grin when he hears me gasp, recognizing his fingers tenderly rubbing at my clit in circular motion.
"That's just enough time, darling," he says mischievously giving me a lewd glare before demanding that I face forward, back against chest.
Chocolate, golden legs spread apart and dress hiked up around my hips. Immediately, I hear him chuckle darkly. The pretty sight between my legs made him give me a knowing yet sultry look. I gulp, my cheeks hot when a rush of bashfulness hits me.
"Mm, no panties, baby?" I shiver to the wind blowing against my core. "You were just plotting for a good ol' time, huh?" He questions, playfulness and amusement lacing in his voice.
Guilty as charged, although I was plotting a little something something after our 2 o'clock lunch reservation with my parents, I was not expecting to be fingered down so soon.
Clearly, the dress had him in a chokehold if he was so eager to get me all riled up.
So enamored, fixated by the way it hugged every inch of my curvy yet thick physique in this tight material, he could barely keep his eyes on my face.
"Maybe..." I teased, giving him feign innocence.
He stares down at his prize possession clinging around nothingness, lightly ghosting his finger over the outline of my cunt, it sends a nerve irking shiver up my spine.
The tickling sensation makes me flinch out of sensitivity. "Just looking forward to me ruining her, huh baby?" He quips, referring to my pussy.
Puffy and plush, it sobbed for attention. Eager and helpless as well, she had a mind of her own. Around him, she was just like a waterfall. A constant flow of desire and need for this man was unmistakable.
At times, it got annoying, but I accepted it for what it was. "Mm, such a pretty pussy, isn't she, baby?" He gleams, keeping his concentration on his fingers dragging over my center ever so slowly.
"uh h-huh," I stutter.
Dainty hands grasp at the arms of the chair when I feel his fingers slip past my folds and enclosed over my clit to rub it some more. Arousal coating every inch of my center, I feel a digit...or two slip into my hole.
I hum, rolling my lips inward to the deep thrusting of his appendages going in and out of me steadily. Tense to the tightness of my walls, I find it hard to accommodate when I was heavily distracted with his other hand creeping up the right side of my torso.
Hard and perky nipple poking through the thin material, his hand palms at my clothed breast. He hears me make a sibilant noise when his finger grazes over my agonizing nipple in circles
By his own free will he obliges to pulling down my spaghetti strap from my shoulder. His mouth instantly watering once the top of my dress reveals my swollen tits. Inwardly he groans hungrily.
He moves my arm from my side to wrap around his shoulder again. Turning me a little, he cups my tit with such care giving it a firm squeeze before strumming over the sensitive bud with his thumb.
As his hungry kisses trail along the tips of my chest to the valley of my breasts, his mouth then gets closer and closer to my aerola.
"F-fuck, that feels so good," A sigh of relief escapes me as I glance over him making out with my nipple. His mouth worked tirelessly as he continued to suck it gently for good measure before flicking his tongue against it.
As I absentmindedly worked my hips against his fingers that were pumping quickly in rhythmic motion, a series of raunchy, lusty moans fled past my lips. "Y-yes, just like that..." I moaned, noticing my fingers give the ends of his hair a good grip.
"Such a good girl for daddy, aren't you baby? Just taking my fingers so well. I mean, just look at you...so fucking wet for me. You love riding my fingers like this babygirl?"
"Y-yes, I do... I love it..s-so... much." I heavily breathed, gripping at the chair for dear life.
Overwhelmed by the pleasure of it all, I focus on the wet sticky sounds from my cunt. it arousing me further i buck my hips to his touch as i could feel the bulit up pressure from my stomach wanting to bust.
The bottom of my lip caught between my teeth, I felt my feet push on my tippy toes, knees bent and back arched, i feel my head plant back on his shoulder.
"F-fuck, m'gonna cum." I confirmed thinking this would be the end.
But Nanami had other plans.
"Hm, not so fast, baby."
I whine when i feel the disappearance of his warmth. He tells me to stand up for a moment, and I do, this time preoccupying myself with rubbing at my clit slowly.
The sound of a belt buckle, zipper coming undone, and then some shuffling were the actions of a man feening to get his dick cared for.
I could honestly say hearing all of this going on behind me turned my anticipation into curiosity. When I looked back to see his hooded eyes darkly boring at the sight of my leaking pussy, I was quickly distracted by his large calloused hand pumping his heavy cock slowly.
"Oh, baby..." I moaned at the sight. Fingers nearly quickening. I drool hearing him grunt to his cock twitching in agony. Observing the precum leak from past his pink mushroom shape tip to the under side of his length, made me want nothing more than to milk him like as fucking cow.
His tongue darted past his lips to wet them when he leaned forward. His face inches away from my ass he dives in for a taste. The vibrations of his moans once his drooling mouth got in contact with my cunt makes me gasp-moan. My hand flying to his head, my fingers curl around his hair and tug to his tongue maneuvering at my folds. I whimper feeling him reluctantly pull away, his hand playing with himself a little bit more
My train of thought is cut off when I hear his question, "Is she ready for me, baby?" Clocking his eyes to me.
"Mhmm." I nod lowering myself to him.
Before I knew it, his cock was buried in my sloppy wet cunt. Hip slamming against me, balls slapping my cunt, tip kissing my cervix repetitively, equally we were both disheveled with bated breathes, sticky foreheads and aching bodies.
"I'm so happy you're mine, all. fucking. mine. You're so amazing baby, so perfect."
"Oh, daddy...right there.." I whimper-moaned.
While he fucked me carelessly, he whispered sweet nothings to my ear kissing the base of my neck to my shoulder he keeps me steady as focuses on the feeling of my tight warmth, "Shit, doll, this pussy s'gonna be the death of me." He grunts tilting his head back.
My cervix kissed his tip sweetly with each thrust, noticing the enclosed space becoming tighter and tighter, praises and coos and raunchy moans continue to fill our back porch ten times more with little regard.
Nami decides to switch up the pace, breath becoming more hot and heavy against my skin, my own becomes uneven. My face is twisting and turning in deep pleasure to his hips roughly slamming into me.
I plea, "d-don't stop, deeper...baby."
He released a breathless chuckle, smirking. "Oh trust me baby I'm....s-shit...not going to."
With each stroke, a cry of pleasure is uttered. With each cry, come to me essentially, losing all feeling in my limps.
His hands were already hooked under my knees and lifted them. Abusing his elbows against the chair's arms, he uses them as leverage with his feet planted firmly against the ground.
With more flexibility, I could feel him salaciously pounding into my throbbing pussy. My cries turning into wails. I screw my eyes close once I recognize the tight knot at the pit of my stomach.
"If you keep clenching like that m'gonna end up coming inside of you." He warned, but I didn't care.
"Do it," I hurriedly begged, "please, baby, do it. I want it, every ounce of you, I wanna feel you come inside of me, baby, I wanna be filled to the brim."
Hearing my words made his thrusts become more aggressive at the end, losing all sense of control and sanity, the care was long gone, loving how his dick was abusing me made his grip around me tighten to the point nail crescents formed at my skin.
"Your wish is my command, darling."
The pain felt good, though, it was evident in the lewd, crude screams that escaped me, my hands ruthlessly tugging at his hair while his face was buried in the crock of my neck. He gave zero fucks as he screwed me deeper and harder.
"S-shit, daddy...m'cumming, m'cumming..."
"Go on love, cum for me. Come for daddy."
I begin to shake. A rush of creamy liquid running through me effortlessly draws a whimper-moan from out me. His hips rutted when I feel a rippling of his hot cum squirt all over my insides, my hips pressed against him, I grind against him, clenching around his cock to get every ounce of him to fill me before he decides to slip from out of my tight hole.
The porch became quiet. No sudden movement of sorts were heard except for bated breathes. Feeling his chest rise and fall against my back I leaned into him lazily. His head was planted back against the chair, he focuses on getting himself under control.
Once I had calmed down, I grabbed ahold of his wrist to see the time.
My eyes nearly bulged out other sockets when I read we were more than 10 minutes late.
I then feel him trail kisses to my shoulder blade but I pull away. "We're 30 minutes late, Nanami." I huff tiredly, giving him a knowing yet annoyed glare.
I knew deep down inside that shit wasn't gonna be 10 minutes, I just knew it.
But because I let this man swindle me into fucking the shit out of me I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Now we were both hot fucking mess, clothes and hair disheveled, we smelt like sex, we couldn't possibly go out like this...and yet all this man could do was laugh. He literally found this shit funny. Giving me a bright ass mischievous smirk, I get a quick peck to the lips when he noticed how serious I am, telling me, "They'll be okay." He stated with a one sided shrug checking the time one last time before standing up and carrying me inside the villa bridal style.
"Another hour wouldn't hurt 'em."
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃
𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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ellieelzeliza · 9 months ago
Text
can we burn slow: part two
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couple: heyward fem!reader x jj maybank
outline: pope’s female cousin comes to visit obx. what happens when she meets the pogues and starts falling for a certain blonde haired blue eyed surfer.
cw: SMUT, fingering, p in v, squirting, dirty talk, slight degradation, let me know if i missed anything **all characters are adults (18+ only!!! MINORS DNI)
proofread by: @prettygirl-gabi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you wake up groggy and disoriented, your brain feeling like it’s been put through a blender.
you try to sit up but a wave of nausea washes over you, forcing you back onto the couch.
jj’s voice breaks the silence “looks like the princess is finally awake.”
you groan holding your head “what happened last night, i feel like i fell down ten flights of stairs.”
jj laughs while pope just shakes his head “you smoked an entire joint by yourself, princess then proceeded to drink three wine coolers on top of that.”
john b smirks slightly as he leans against the wall “yeah, and then you puked your guts out in the convenience store bathroom.”
sarah and kie come into the living room with water and tylenol.
sarah hands you a bottle of water and two pills “here, take this. it’ll help with the headache and the nausea”. kie gives a sympathetic smile “how you feeling?”
“like shit” you say as you drink some water then take the two pills.
“that’s what you get for smoking an entire joint all by yourself.” jj laughs as he teases you “can’t handle your weed, princess?”
you roll my eyes “you gave me the joint jj” you deadpan at jj.
jj holds up his hands in defense “hey, i didn’t force you to smoke it.” he grins “you took it willingly and then proceeded to turn into a lightweight.”
you lay back down “is there anyplace to eat breakfast, my stomach is touching my back right now”.
john b speaks up. “there’s a diner not too far from here. they’ve got good greasy food. that’ll definitely help with your hangover.”
you sit up slipping on your shoes “well let’s go” you say heading for the front door.
the gang files out of the chateau and piles into the twinkie. john b and sarah take the front seats while pope, kie, and jj squish into the back seat.
jj pats the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit beside him “come on, princess. sit next to me.”
you sit down in the seat next to him, practically bouncing in your seat from excitement.
jj laughs as he eyes your bouncing legs “someones getting excited about some pancakes” he teases, poking at your side.
you swat his hand away “well duh, im starving” you say looking out the window.
he grins and holds up his hands in surrender "calm down, princess. we'll be there soon."
the twinkie pulls up in front of the diner and everyone gets out. jj let’s you get out first "after you, princess."
you exit the van then you all head inside, as the door opens your hit with the warm smell of cinnamon and coffee.
the group finds a booth at the back of the diner and slides into their seats.
jj scoots into the booth beside you, his thigh pressing against yours.
the waitress comes over with a handful of menus and hands them out “what can i get you guys to drink?”
you look through the menu “mmm, can i get an apple juice?”
the waitress nods and jots down your order. she turns to the rest of the group, taking their drink orders before leaving to put them into the system.
jj leans back in his seat, eyeing you  curiously "apple juice? seriously, princess?"
you zip your jacket up “you literally ordered orange juice. what are you a grandpa?” you snicker.
jj laughs "hey, don't diss the orange juice. it's a classic." he grins and bumps his shoulder against yours playfully "but at least I'm not drinking kiddie juice."
“apple juice is refreshing, especially with ice. who even orders orange juice for breakfast.” you say sassily.
jj smirks and leans in closer to you. "i do, princess. and it's delicious. you should try expanding your taste buds sometime."
the waitress comes back with everyone's drinks and takes the group's food orders. jj orders pancakes drowned in syrup and bacon.
“can i get the buttermilk pancakes, sunny side up eggs and hash browns with the fruit bowl please” you ask handing your menu back to the waitress.
the waitress smiles and jots down your order "coming right up, hun." she says before heading back to the kitchen.
jj watches you intently, amused by your breakfast order "pancakes, eggs, hash browns, fruit bowl... and apple juice. you really have the palette of a toddler, don't you?"
“you ordered pancakes and bacon. that’s what my little brother orders when we go to breakfast, you have the palette of a seven year old” you say crossing your arms.
jj snorts and grins "ouch, feisty this morning, aren't you princess?" he laughs at your annoyed expression. "but pancakes and bacon are classic breakfast foods. can't go wrong with a good ol' stack of pancakes."
you all sit there the next few minutes in silence waiting for the food to arrive.
the group engages in small talk amongst themselves, bantering and joking with each other. sarah and kie are deep in conversation about a party that's happening later tonight. pope is on his phone, scrolling through his social media. john b just sits there quietly, looking half-asleep. jj, on the other hand, keeps sneaking glances at you from beside him.
you turn to him “do i have something on my face?”
jj shakes his head and grins "no, just admiring the view." he replies, giving you a once-over. he's blatantly checking you out, his gaze lingering a little too long on certain parts of your body. it's obvious that he's enjoying getting under your skin.
“well find something else to look at” you say shifting in your seat.
jj laughs and leans closer to you "why, can't handle a little attention, princess?" he grins slyly, his eyes roaming over your body once again "you know, you look pretty good when you're flustered like this."
pope looks between the two of you and sits his phone down.
pope rolls his eyes and shoots jj a look, trying to subtly signal to him to ease up.
jj just ignores him and continues to flirt with you, his hand moving to rest on your thigh under the table.
you look at him questionably.
jj chuckles at your expression, his hand slowly rubbing your thigh under the table.
his touch is light and teasing "what's wrong, princess? something on your mind?" he asks, grinning wickedly as he watches you squirm under his touch.
you look down at his pants “i think there’s something on your mind. that ice in my drink might prove useful since there aren’t any showers around here” you whisper in his ear pretending to look out the window.
jj’s eyes widen at your unexpected remark. his hand immediately stops rubbing your thigh and he shifts in his seat, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"um..." he stutters, momentarily speechless. he glances around the table to see if anyone else heard your comment, but everyone else is too engrossed in their own conversations to pay attention.
you smirk “oh, they’re not listening to us. what happened to me being flustered?” you put your hand in his lap “didn’t think i’d match your energy?”.
jj’s heartbeat quickens as you put your hand in his lap. his expression darkens slightly as he looks at you, a flash of desire in his eyes. "mmm, princess, you're playing with fire here." he murmurs, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin.
“haven’t been burned yet. oh there’s the food!” you say as if you weren’t just palming jj underneath the table.
jj is caught off guard again as the waitress sets the food down in front of you both. he quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh, trying to play it cool. the rest of the gang digs into their food, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two of you. but it's hard for jj to ignore the fact that he’s still warm and tingling from your touch, his mind still fixated on your subtle flirtation.
“so, how’s your seven year old breakfast jj” you tease drinking some of your juice.
jj glares at you, his annoyance at your taunts barely masked by his smirk. "it’s delicious, princess. how's your kiddie juice?" he retorts back, taking a large bite of his pancakes.
“cooling, do you still need those ice cubes” you say smiling.
"why, you gonna give me a cold shower later?" jj shoots back with a sly grin. he leans in closer to you, his voice lowering to a husk whisper "you know, princess, two can play at this game." his hand finds its way back to your thigh, this time higher up than before. he gives it a gentle squeeze, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh.
you smirk “mmm, maybe. but if you’re gonna play the game play it right” you say before your fork ‘falls’ to the floor. “damnit, i dropped my fork” you slip under the table to grab it and on your way up you graze your hand over his clothed cock.
jj stifles a gasp as your hand brushes against him, his breath catching in his throat.
he tightens his grip on his fork, trying to maintain his composure as the group continues chatting obliviously.
but his eyes follow your every move, watching as you slide underneath the table and lean back up.
he can't help but notice how close your face gets to his lap, and he swallows hard as a surge of heat rushes through him.
as you sit back in your seat you scoot just a little bit closer to him “i’m sorry jj can i borrow your fork mines fell” you say as you grab his fork licking the syrup off before using it to eat your fruit.
jj’s eyes darken as he watches you take his fork and lick the syrup off it.
a rush of heat pools in his stomach at the sight of your tongue on his fork, the way you so innocently tease him making his heart race.
he shifts in his seat, trying to hide the way his jeans are now feeling tighter than before.
"sure, princess. help yourself." he manages to say, his voice strained.
“thank you jayj” you say your hand resting in his lap as you eat your food “oh my god, i’ve never had breakfast this good” you groan.
jj swallows hard as he feels your hand on his lap, his leg instinctively jerking as your touch sends a jolt of electricity through him.
he forces himself to focus on the group's conversation, trying to act like your hand isn't driving him crazy.
"yeah, uh, the food's great." he says, his voice hoarse. he takes a large bite of his pancakes, trying to distract himself from the feeling of your hand slowly inching higher up his thigh.
the waitress comes back over and asks if anyone wants dessert or just the bill.
"just the bill, please." jj says a little too quickly, his voice tight.
the waitress nods and scurries away to grab the check.
the rest of the gang is still chatting and joking, oblivious to the tension between the two of you.
jj’s eyes flicker to your hand on his lap, still resting dangerously close to his crotch.
his breathing is ragged and he grips the table tightly, trying to maintain some semblance of control.
you reach into your pocket and grab your debit card “breakfast is on me, my way of saying thank you to everyone for welcoming me” you hand your card to the waitress.
the group looks at you in surprise, clearly not expecting you to foot the bill for the entire table.
"are you sure, princess?" jj asks, raising an eyebrow. "you don't have to do that."
you nod “no worries, i don’t mind at all” you grab your debit card back from the waitress putting back into your wallet.
the waitress smiles and walks away, leaving the table in stunned silence for a moment.
john b is the first to speak up, a look of disbelief on his face "you just paid for all of us? that must have been like a hundred bucks."
you shrug “maybe, but that’s how i was raised. we take care of our friends and family, im not anyone’s sugar mama though” you say laughing.
john b laughs along with you, clapping a hand on your shoulder. "well, we're definitely not complaining. thanks, y/n."
sarah grins and winks at you. "if you're not anyone's sugar mama, does that mean you're open to applications?"
jj pipes up with a smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. "sorry, but i think i called dibs on being y/n’s favorite."
after leaving a tip we head back to the twinkie “me and y/n need to head back home. can you drop us off?” pope asks john b as we all get into the twinkie.
john b nods and starts the car. "sure, no problem." he looks at you and jj sitting in the back seat, the two of you sitting closer than before.
sarah notices the shift in seating and grins, shooting you a knowing look from the front seat.
you nod your head agreeing with pope “yeah, we might be able to hang later. it’s just i promised my uncle that we’d help him restock the store” you say scrolling through your phone.
john b nods as he drives, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror every so often to look at you and jj.
jj leans back in his seat, his eyes fixed on you. the tension between the two of you has eased slightly, but there's still an underlying heat there. he fidgets with his fingers, clearly itching to reach out and touch you again.
sarah turns around in her seat and smirks at you. "stocking shelves, huh? sounds like a thrilling afternoon." she teases.
you shake your head “it’s pretty boring honestly. it’s just me and pope, if you guys come help then it’ll get done quicker and we can get back on the road?” you look at them pleading.
john b rolls his eyes playfully. "you really think we want to spend our afternoon stocking shelves?"
sarah grins and nudges john b’s shoulder. "come on, it could be fun. and it's a good excuse to spend more time together."
kie snorts "yeah, fun. stacking boxes. sounds like a blast."
you put your phone in your pocket as john b pulls up to the store “what about you jj, you coming?” you say getting out of the twinkie.
jj hesitates for a moment before nodding. "yeah, sure. why not."
he hops out of the car and follows you towards the store, his eyes flicking up and down your body as he walks behind you.
you walk into the store “me and pope are back and we brought more help” you say to your uncle.
your uncle looks up from stocking the shelves and raises an eyebrow as he sees you and jj walking in behind you. "oh, so you've brought reinforcements?"
pope gives his dad an apologetic smile. "yeah, we figured we could use some extra hands to get this done faster."
he nods “well, i’ll leave y’all to it. i got a delivery to make in figure 8 anyways. pope im trusting you and your cousin to handle the restock while i’m gone.”
pope nods. "you got it, dad."
your uncle grabs his keys and heads out the door, leaving all of you alone in the store.
sarah grins and looks around the store. "well, where do we start?"
pope points to the mountain of boxes “the ones with red tape need to be stocked on the shelves and the green taped ones need to be put into the storage room.”
you clap your hands together “well let’s get to it!”
jj sighs and picks up a few boxes, already dreading the next few hours of mindless work.
pope, on the other hand, seems to be in his element as he starts sorting through the boxes efficiently.
sarah rolls up her sleeves and grins. "alright, let's do this."
the six of you start dividing up the work, sorting through the boxes and stocking the shelves. It's monotonous but mindless work, and you all fall into a rhythm.
a few hours past and you all are a quarter of the way done. you walk around holding the green taped box looking for someone to help, so far you’ve been to everyone except jj.
you see him unloading a box “hey, can you help me put this box on the third shelf in the storage room? someone moved the stepping stool and i can’t reach”.
jj glances up from the box he's unloading and sees you standing there, a pleading look on your face. he sets the box down and wipes his hands on his jeans.
"yeah, sure." he says with a smirk, striding over to you. "show me where you want it, princess."
you walk to the back of the store, opening the storage room door with your foot. “there” you say nodding your head towards the tall shelf.
jj follows you into the storage room and looks up at the shelf you're pointing to. It's pretty high up, just out of your reach.
"mmm, you do realize how short you are, princess?" he teases, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
you groan “can you just help me with this box? it’s really heavy” you huff in annoyance.
jj chuckles at your exasperated expression and finally pushes himself off the wall. "fine, I'll do it, but only because you asked so nicely."
he takes the box from you and easily hoists it up onto the high shelf. he grins down at you, clearly enjoying the fact that you had to ask him for help.
you turn around to exit the storage room but the door is locked “you have to be fucking kidding me” you mutter to yourself. “jj did you lock the door?”
jj frowns as he tries the door handle and realizes it's locked. "what? no, i didn't. it must've jammed or something."
he glances around the small storage room and realizes you're both trapped until someone unlocks the door from the outside.
you take out your phone and try to call pope but you have no signal. you start pounding on the door but after a few minutes it seems like no one is listening so you stop.
jj watches your desperate attempts to get someone's attention but it's no use. the storage room is pretty soundproof, and the rest of the group is far enough away that they can't hear you pounding on the door.
he smirks and leans against the wall again, crossing his arms. "looks like we're stuck in here for a bit, princess. might as well get comfortable."
you glare at him “you’re just enjoying this right now.” you grumble.
jj grins, looking you up and down. "yeah, I kinda am. it’s not often I get to have you all to myself, trapped in a small room."
he takes a step closer to you, caging you against the wall with his body. he leans down so his face is close to yours, a sly smirk on his face. "what’s the matter, princess? afraid to be alone with me?"
your back hits the wall as he steps closer “n-no, i just want to finish this stupid job.”
jj notices the stutter in your voice and grins, clearly enjoying making you flustered.
"oh, is that all? you just want to finish the job?" he leans in even closer, his body pressing against yours pinning you to the wall.
"are you sure about that, princess?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck.
you moan softly “yes, that’s all” feeling his hands roaming freely.
jj grins at the sound of your soft moan, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. he leans in even closer "you’re a terrible liar, princess."
his hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. he leans down to nibble at your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin. "you know you want me, princess. just admit it."
you whimper bucking your hips into him “m’not lying” feeling your panties grow wetter with every touch.
he smirks rubbing his hand over your clothed pussy “your body betrays you princess” i gasp at the friction.
“nghh” i whimper “look at you, i haven’t even took your clothes off yet and you’re just falling apart” he whispers into your ear before leaving a hickey on your collarbone.
“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop right now” he says reaching into your shorts rubbing your clit painfully slow.
you open your mouth to respond but all that comes out of it are soft moans and whimpers, so you shake your head.
“you gotta use your words princess, do you want me to stop” he teases, fingers dancing around your clenching hole.
“n-no please do-” you moan as he buries his fingers into your sopping pussy, your breath hitches.
the storage room fills with your cries and moans “shh, shh you hear her talking back to me princess?”.
as you attempt to quiet your moans you hear various sloshing sounds and you feel yourself grow hotter.
he uses his thumb to rub slow circles on your clit “you’re a little slut huh, letting me finger your pussy inside your uncle’s storage room” he teases.
his fingers prodding around searching for something “what would happen if that door opens and we get caught, my fingers deep in your pussy like this” you mindlessly clench around his fingers at the thought of being caught.
“oh, you’re a nasty girl baby. you like the idea of that huh” his fingers curl upwards and your eyes roll back “found it”.
your head lolls back “f-fuck” his fingers continue rubbing the spongey spot “look at me”.
he lessens his pace “look at me” he orders, you look at him eyes glossed over indicating that your close.
as he speeds up, rubbing circles into your pulsing clit you feel yourself tethering closer and closer to the edge.
your mouth opens into an o shape at the filthy squelches that were filling up the room.
you squirm and whine at the feeling of him bullying his fingers inside your dripping pussy.
“jayj” you whimper “i know baby, i can feel you squeezing my fingers” he says so sweetly you’d never imagine the lewd words that leave his mouth next.
“you gonna cum all over my fingers, huh? make a mess for me baby, flood for me” he says biting, sucking at your neck and before you can warn him your cumming all over his fingers the white of your eyes the only thing visible.
you grip his arm for support as your legs become shaky “i- mmm” your orgasm soon passes and all you feel is the cold air hit your lower half as you panties and shorts drop to the ground.
before you can register the change he’s slurping up your release moaning and groaning.
he holds your hips as your wiggling around from how sensitive you are now “mmm, baby you gotta be still m’tryna eat my dessert” you gasp as he’s practically french kissing your pussy.
“so sensitive” you whimper your hands flying down to his hair tugging “i know baby but you can give me one more right?” he says pulling away looking up at you.
his mouth glistening with your wetness as its dripping down his chin, he gives your lower lips a kiss “can’t you?” he says before biting and sucking at your inner thighs.
your hands are pulling him closer and he takes that as his sign to continue his meal. and boy does he devour you, his grip around your thighs tighten as he submerges his face into your cunt his nose ever so slightly grazing against your swollen clit.
“oh my god” your moans grow louder as your orgasm gets closer, his hand reaches and he presses down on your lower stomach.
you look out a strangled cry out as a clear liquid shoots out of you, your body convulsing as jj looks at you in shock “that was hot, think you could do that one more time”.
and before you know it your laid out flat with your back on the cold floor, knees pressed up against your chest as his cock is pumping in and out of your quivering pussy.
he looks you in your eyes “i’m never letting you go, gonna fuck you so good that all your able to think about is me.” he says as he kisses your ankle.
“gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else, so when you leave all she’ll remember is me.” he grunts moving faster his tip kissing your cervix. you nod your head brain foggy from how good he’s fucking you.
“matter of fact, im gonna make it impossible for you to get back on that boat” he says playing with your pussy as he grind down onto you “you feel that princess” he grabs your hand “feel me right there?” and places it on your stomach.
you moan feeling the bulge as he thrusts back inside you. “you wanna be mine forever? never gonna let anyone else in this pussy? she’s mine right?” he growls his thrust getting sloppier.
you babble a response too far gone, he chuckles “fucked you silly, i can feel you squeezing me baby. are you close?”.
you whimper feeling your orgasm approaching “so close” you cry out. he smirks before reaching down and rubbing your clit.
“let go for me princess” your eyes cross, drooling running down the side of your mouth as you feel the familiar sensation.
“holy shit” jj groans before releasing inside the condom (an: don’t be silly, wrap ya willy).
there’s a knock on the door “y/n, jj are y’all in there?” kie yell from outside the door.
you both freeze. "yeah, we're in here!" he calls back, hoping his voice doesn't sound too breathless. "the door is jammed shut or something, we can't get out."
he pulls out of you with a groan as the both of you scramble to make yourselves presentable .
jj does his best to fix his wrinkled shirt and tousled hair, while you try to smooth out your own clothes and avoid looking too disheveled.
the two of you are both breathing heavily and your clothes are still rumpled from your moment of passion.
kie’s voice comes through the door again. "are you guys okay? why haven't you opened the door yet?"
“the door is jammed or locked, we don’t know…we can’t get out. we tried yelling and everything” you say.
kie mutters something on the other side of the door before calling out to you again. "hang on a sec, im gonna get pope."
footsteps thump away and jj lets out a sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair again.
he looks at you, his eyes still filled with a mix of desire and frustration. "that was close."
kie comes back with pope who unlocks the door “sorry i forgot to tell you that the door has a smart lock after being opened for so long”.
jj and you stumble out of the storage room, looking a bit worse for wear. kie and pope exchange looks, clearly sensing that something is off with the two of you.
john b looks at you both. "You okay? You two look a little ruffled."
you smile “yeah fine, it was just super hot and small in there. started panicking for a second”
john b raises an eyebrow, clearly not fully convinced by your explanation. but he doesn't press the issue, nodding his head.
sarah, on the other hand, is not so easily fooled. she looks between you and jj with a knowing grin, clearly suspecting what really went down in there.
as we walk with them to the front of the store we hear pope mutter “did y’all spill water or something in the storage room?”
jj laughs nervously and glances down at himself, noticing a conspicuous wet spot on his shorts. "yeah, must've spilled some water or something."
kie looks at him skeptically but doesn't say anything. meanwhile, sarah is biting her lip to hold back a laugh, clearly suppressing a smirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
taglist: @rafesno1bae
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bangtan-bish · 1 year ago
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YANDERE! BTS Reaction: They kill you by accident
⚠️ WARNING: Read the title, there will be mentions of blood, violence, death, murder-suicide, and other disturbing topics. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics above, DO NOT READ THIS! I will write more tame scenarios and fics in the future. Thank you for reading, love ya! ⚠️
|| MAKNAE LINE ||
P A R K J I M I N
"I told you to stay away from him, you know he's no good!" He yelled, grabbing you by your left wrist. The anger flared up in his eyes when you tried to pull away from his grasp. "Jimin, I'm sorry, please stop!" You cried, trying to reason with him, get him to calm down and snap out of it. But you made it so much worse when you pulled away though, and you realized much too late. Blinded by rage, Jimin wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed. The terror in your eyes satisfying some sick and twisted part of his soul, the part that dictated whether you lived or not. You choked out pleas of for him to stop through the asphyxiation and
CRACK!
The light faded out of your eyes almost instantly and you stopped struggling. Your neck was craned at inhuman angle, Jimin realizes and drops you. "{___} this isn't funny, I get I overreacted, okay?" Jimin looked down at your limp, lifeless body still not registering that you are gone. "Get up!" He yelled grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, no response. The panic began to set in, "Please! Please, get up! Say something I'm begging you, I'll let you leave, just speak to me!" the room was still deathly silent, full of only his heavy, ragged breaths.
He had just killed you.
He could have sworn he felt his breath catch in his chest at the thought, felt his heart stop beating. He couldn't, no wouldn't, do this without you. You were everything to him, how could he have done this to you? To himself? He didn't even realize that the tears had started to pour from his eyes, streaming out in a steady pace that matched the apologies coming from his mouth. Continously, endlessly apologizing. 'It's not going to bring them back to us,' the voice in his head chimed in. It was right. He destroyed you with his own hands.
Atonement.
That's what he needed to do. It didn't matter anymore he just wanted your forgiveness, to see you one last time. Even if the consequences meant watching you from the deepest, darkest pits of hell. 'We deserve that...' the voice spoke up again. He had just extinguished the brightest light in the world, the sun didn't even compare to you. He deserved that all and so, so much more.
He knew what he had to do, he walked up into what used to be your shared bedroom and kneeled down in front of the closet. He opened it, reaching towards the very back of it and feeling around. He felt something cold and metallic touch the back of his hand. He slid it out and opened it. For moment he hesitated, second guessing whether this is was really happening. But he shooed the feeling away, quieting the noise in his head. He felt the coldness against him, he knew what was coming, but he had to do it.
"I'm so sorry, darling..."
BANG!
K I M T A E H Y U N G
Taehyung was usually very gentle and playful with you or anyone for that matter, but when angry, he became instantaneously violent. That was the case right now. He paced around the room, the anxiety pumping steadily through his veins then he turns to you. "I thought I taught you better than this, hmm?" He stopped in the center of the room, "Answer me, brat!" He spat walking towards you aggressively, you flinch but the hit ever comes. For the first few seconds you're scared to move because surely, that's when he'll slap you, punch you, anything. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to see my family. My sister's birthday is today." You see his jaw tighten as you watched him through the veil of your fingers. He grabs your hair and you scream so loud you're sure you've woken the neighborhood. "Taehyung, please!" You beg, he just look at you coldly and you swear you'd just seen your life flash before your eyes at the look he gives you.
Next thing you know, he's slamming your head against the bulletproof glass of his living room. You don't even have time to scream for help or ask for his forgiveness because the air is knocked out of your lungs at the force. All you can do is cry. He keeps slamming your head against the glass while screaming at you, telling you that you will never leave and you will never escape. The feeling and the sound of your skull cracking open sickens you to your stomach and you feel cold.
CRUNCH!
It takes him a while to realize you're gone. He stands over body demanding that you get up, that is until he catches a glimpse of your blood and brain-matter smeared all over his window. He feels his guts twist at the sight of the sickening mixture running down and staining the floors. Usually, he was never squeamish or sensitive to the sight of blood, he killed many of your friends; it was different this time though. "Shit, baby, I'm sorry. Wake up please, please don't leave me here alone..." there was no response. He kept shaking you shoulders for over 45 minutes, hoping you'll awaken sometime soon. You never do though.
The reality hits him hard. He cries for days and days on end until he can't shed tears anymore. And then after that, he screams until his voice won't come out. He doesn't eat nor sleep nor watch TV nor read. He just stays there holding your body, though the entire house now reeks of your death. He feels himself grow weaker and weaker by the day, but he doesn't care. All his strength and power left the moment he'd killed you. He only had the strength to hold your corpse and that's the only thing he'd have the strength to do for the rest of eternity, that's all the strength he needed. Then, finally, one week later...his body goes cold too.
J E O N J U N G K O O K
Jungkook stood over you, a dangerous look lacing the usual expressionlessness of his eyes. You never intended for him to get upset, never intended for him to even catch you. Yet here you were. You'd tried to be as sneaky as you could possibly manage. But, you weren't sneaky enough, he caught talking on the phone with your best friend. It wasn't the fact that you were talking on the phone though, it the best friend part of the story. She didn't like him, often finding ways to contact you and show up in your life to try and "rescue" you from him. It made him sick. He was lenient when it came to family members, but wasn't that enough for you? Obviously not because you just betrayed his trust.
He snatches your phone straight from your hands and throws it across the room. It hits the wall hard and falls down on the floor. You back away from him before rising from the couch, "Jungkook..." the way his name falls from your lips is panicky. "I thought that you and I had an agreement, sweetheart," He says, his voice is low and it sends a sharp fear down your spine. "I-" he raises his hands, signaling you to be quiet. "I can't believe you. I trusted that you wouldn't dare speak with that slut again." the venom that laces his words makes you feel like you should run. But don't you just stand and watch as he grows angrier and angrier with you.
"We had agreement! Wasn't that enough for you?"
He suddenly lashes out and sends a nearby vase flying towards you, it barely misses you by an inch. It hits the wall not far behind you, shattering against the wall. "It's not fair, you get to talk to whoever you want!" You gestured towards him angrily l, tired of him treating you like his child. "Why is that? It's not like my bestfriend is romantically involved with me or interested in me in that way! She has a boyfriend who actually loves her!" You shout at him. You have no clue where this suddenly powerful sense of courage has come from, but you use it to your advantage. Jungkook seems just as shocked as you are about your sudden outburst. You turn around and walk out of the room angrily, planning to ignore him for the next few days.
As you're making your way down the stairs, Jungkook follows swiftly behind you. Once he catches up with you, he pushes you and you tumble down the stair. This wouldn't be the first time he's done this. But this time, you actually get hurt and hit your head hard on the steps. You finally stop falling when you reach the bottom and Jungkook is met with the look of extreme horror frozen on your face. He knows you're dead almost instantly, but he wants so badly to deny it.
"{___}?"
"I'm sorry, forgive me. I wasn't deserving of someone like you." He sighed, the sorrow starting build up slowly up inside of him, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He loves you, at least, that's the lie he told himself over and over again. You don't kill people you love, dumbass.
The next few days are hellish for him. It's too quiet and cold without you around. He laid your body inside of the master bedroom of his house, and he's slept in the guest room instead. He feels terrible about what he did. He wants to make up to you somehow, pay the price but nothing came to mind until now. That's how he found himself here, he felt nothing as he stood there, looking at you one last time. He kicked out the chair from his feet.
"Forgive me..."
THUD!
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ineffableclassics · 3 months ago
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The year is 1923. Aziraphale's friends at the gentlemen's club invite him for a weekend away in Devon. He asks Crowley to join. It gets very silly and very messy very quickly.
That's just how things were in the roaring twenties.
Words: 48,090
Status: Complete
Rating: Mature
@justkeeptrekkin
Art Credit: Untitled by Eduard Thöny
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scribblestatic · 16 days ago
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Hi! Is there any chance you would share the username of your mature ao3? (totally understand if not!) I love your svsss works and would love to read more of your writing!
Yeah, I can share it.
But before I do, please note:
1. The account includes explicit content, specifically Dead Dove, whichever the tags list.
2. People, me included, write heinous shit that isn't good irl, but that doesn't mean it's anything we want or think should happen.
3. The tags are there for your protection, so please read them! I would like you to have a safe and sane internet experience.
4. I hope anyone looking is of legal age to view said stuff. If you know you're not, please don't, alright?
Sorry if I seem like I'm lecturing you! I'm just nervous lol. Like, I want those who want to read it to read it, but I also don't want to get ridiculed, and I don't think I can have it both ways.
Just, seriously, please make sure you read the tags and don't read something you don't want to.
[Proceeds to Yap]
I associate myself with D.P. more than Static. I feel like I can fuck around more and don't have to be as careful. Not that I don't enjoy writing the stuff I do here! I very much do. But I like for there to at least be a door of separation between them because of who the audience could be.
Of course, I write on both sides, one with less sex talk (this one), and one with Lewds and Horrors on it (that one). Specifically, there's a fic where a character is sexually assaulted and tortured, then goes through a very long recovery process.
It's alright if you find you don't like what I write on the D.P. side, and I highly advise you block it if it's not something you want to see.
And if that colors how you view all of what I've written in a negative light, then I thank you for enjoying what I've written thus far and wish you well.
With all that yappin out the way, here you go!
AO3: DiscoPierrot
I have a Tumblr blog with some other writings on it, too kek. That's also DiscoPierrot. I'm less active on that one tbh.
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boy-in-red-dress · 8 months ago
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Update! 2/3
Click here
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mtcloudsworld · 2 months ago
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𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 | choso.k
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, black!fem!reader, pierced!reader, curlyhair!reader, plus size!reader, enemies to lovers!choso, study season turned to a little bit more than just studying, excuse any errors I will eventually edit it later on, in the meantime, enjoy :) choso kamo masterlist | here
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"F-Fuck doll!"
It was supposed to be just an innocent little study session between you two.
"Oh, Cho~"
No messing around, shenanigans or throwing insults at one another.
"Mm, baby."
Just casually studying and sharing notes for the upcoming test.
"S-Shit, that feels good."
"Y-yeah?"
"Mmhm, yeah..." Moaning, you giggle a little at the sight of his blush, lip tucked between your teeth as you press him into you completely, legs spreading wider. Allowing his face to bury into the crock of your neck, getting comfortable in your embrace as you stroked through the dark strands of his long hair. "Mmph, right there, baby, please."
But it seems like the skin tight lavender tank and shorts fit didn't help his dirty mind as it revealed the most dangerous parts of your voluptuous body. Glorious chocolate skin, pierced nipples and ass cheeks peeking from underneath.
Your hair curly and frizzy. Fresh face, black rimmed glasses and glossy mocha lips. You looked so adorable without even trying. And while you read through your literature book, it was purposefully forgotten as he stared at the side of your face. Placed under a trance by the sound of your voice. It was silky and sweet. unintentionally low and smooth like honey. In his mind, you were this small firecracker.
Always has an attitude and minds her own business. A slick mouth, bit of a temper, a brat, stubbornly annoying and cute all in one breath. You irritated him. Everytime you guys see each other it's nothing but lips smacking fun eyes rolling, insults, name calling and whatever else you could think of. You both bullied each other because you simply hated the fact that feelings were getting involved.
Neither of you wanted to admit it, acknowledged it, act upon it─ until, tonight, when you felt the light brush of his fingertips along your jaw. Your attention brought to the lustful glare in his eyes. Your own were hooded. lashes brushing along your cheeks. You try to resist. You try to resist the scent of his heartaching cologne, the warmth of his palm around your neck, fingers brushing past the back of your hair, and his thumb caressing between your cheek and bottom lip.
The intimacy of your faces were inches apart. And you, being a horny bitch, felt your thighs begin to squeeze, your heart racing, cheeks heating and lips parting. You wanted to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Nothing that would make him think you didn't want this, because you did want this. You were just too hard headed, too stubborn to admit to him that he made you feel some type of way.
The many times he's tried to make advances to you, or would tease you to just get a reaction. He knew he had an effect on you, whether you liked to admit it or not. You both knew there was something there. You both knew the chemistry, the tension and connection was unmatched like no other. When he thought you wouldn't have given in, give him the slightest satisfaction, or an ounce of curiosity, you surprised him, yet again.
Those butterflies you once tried to avoid, swarmed in the moment your lips connected, colliding against one another deliberately slow, selfishly filled with greed and yearn. Neither of you dared detached from one another as he was mercifully willing to give it to you, no questions asked. Willing to make you understand how crazy you made him feel. How that slick mouth of yours always made him want to shut you up with a kiss on the lips. Willing to show you just how deep in the mud he was for you. He was willing to give you more if you'd just ask.
But... did you really need to say anything when everything was being pushed to the side just for him to be pulled on top of you, where your legs and arms wrapped around him and held him so close? Where his each of his hands were laid flat to the ground on either side of your head as you made out hungrily? Did you really need to say anything when your tongues were so far down his throat, moaning his name? Begging for him to touch your aching pussy? Nothing needed to be said right?
It was clear as day.
He wanted it just as badly as you did.
Somewhere in the deepest, darkest part of his mind he wanted to ravish you. Toxically possess every part of your beging, taint you, mark you, mold you in this whiny little sub of a brat just so he could tame you. So he could hear you become a whimpering moaning mess, whining for him to just ruin you till you crumbled to pieces, clenching your gummy, pink walls around his veiny dick while he fucked you into a oblivion, speaking of gibberish and other nonsense, until all you can feel is your legs shake like a leaf and body quiver in overwhelmed ecstacy, till you feel yourself near your climax, seeing nothing but stars, breathless and lightheaded, your ears deafening a little and your toes aching from the intense orgasm, until...all you both could hear was bated, heavy breathes and pants.
The sounds of skin slapping skin vanishes into slow gentle thrusts and his cock rutting into you until it slips from your leaking hole and dripping cum between your thighs and he's painting your folds.
Until he's knelt before you with a mischievous, maybe even a cocky smirk as he glares past your weak anatomy completely rendered at the mercy of him─ feeling nothing but lewd exhilaration.
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃
𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
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itssotragic · 1 year ago
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12. “Did something happen to you that I don’t know about?” with maybe Rhea/Damian/Dom 🤔
Rated: T Tags: References to past sexual assault, therapy, nightmares.
Prompt List
Quiet nights at home were few and hard to come by. There was always something that needed to be done—unpacking, packing, getting ready for the next show, traveling, training, press. Rarely did the grind stutter to a stop long enough to be still and breathe. But somehow, they'd managed to find one of those precious nights among the chaos—a respite, a chance to simply be and be together. Damian cooked, they ate, then JD and Finn disappeared into the back bedroom with a few soft murmurs exchanged in the leaving. Both had looked so exhausted that Damian had no reason to doubt they really were turning in early.
And so five became three.
They shifted to the living room, where Dom curled up against Damian's side, head resting in his lap as if he belonged there—which, he mused, maybe he did—and Damian held him close as they put on a movie Rhea had rescued from a discount bin somewhere last week. It didn't take long before Dom was half-hidden behind a blanket, peering over the fringe and clutching onto Damian's hand with every jump and pop of noise. Damian was only half paying attention, idly carding his free hand through Dom's hair, his thoughts and gaze both drifting to where Rhea had plopped down on the floor in front of the sofa, meticulously hammering studs and rivets into a trim expanse of black leather. He had no idea what event it was for—he didn't even know if she knew—but he liked watching her work. Once in a while, her tongue would poke out from between her lips, poised at the corner of her mouth, her brow furrowed in concentration as she lined up sharp bits of metal, measured with her fingertips, counted, then swept the whole mess onto the floor so she could start hammering again. 
It was hard for him to imagine a more perfect night than this—to have not just one person who fit so well into every crevice of his life, but all of them. The warmth of Dom pressed against him, Rhea always lingering just within arm's reach, Finn and JD safely tucked away in the other room. It was a kind of contentment he couldn't even imagine until he'd met them. One by one, they'd slotted into place, and a sense of peace had wrapped around him like a heavy blanket.
He had half a thought lingering somewhere in the corner of his mind—something he'd been about to say, a notion that hadn't quite formed into words yet—but it was lost in the rustle of Rhea suddenly rising to her feet. She cracked her neck and stretched her arms above her head with a soft groan and a little pop of something somewhere at the base of her spine. Dom reached out and batted at her hip, and she stepped out of the way of the television with a laugh, pivoting on her toes, practically dancing between the piles of tools and fabric and supplies. 
"You headed to the kitchen by any chance?" Damian asked, watching as she flicked the hem of her shorts back into place around her thigh.
"I think I need glue," she answered.
"You wanna grab me another drink on your way back?"
"Please," she teased and wiggled her fingers at him as she reached for his empty glass.
He rolled his eyes. "And thank you," he offered, handing it over with a small, fond smirk. Their hands brushed, his touch lingered, thumb grazing over her knuckles before he let go of the glass and let her slip away toward the other side of the space.
Damian's gaze followed her, tracking every movement through the room, lingering just long enough to see her slip around the corner of the island counter. Then he turned back to Dom, fingers sliding into his hair again, scratching gently at his scalp beneath a mop of dark waves. Dom hummed softly, a barely audible noise, tilting his head into Damian's palm and shifting ever closer against his side. His focus slipped, settled, sank—grasping onto nothing in particular, at least not long enough to matter—shifting from Dom to Rhea and back again with ease. Rhea's footsteps pattered softly against the tile, punctuated by the glide of drawers as she rummaged around. But even that faded into the background after a moment or two—a rhythmic pulse like a metronome, a steady beat for him to track her by.
Time slowed to a crawl. The movie played on without him; he didn't care. His eyes slipped closed, lashes heavy, comfort guiding the way towards a drowsy sort of almost-rest. Then Rhea's fingers brushed against his shoulder, cold and damp with condensation off his glass, and he hummed a soft sound of acknowledgment as she passed. He heard her nails scratch softly over Dom's blanket, skipping down his side and hip before he felt the couch cushion shift as she settled down and rest her back against it again. A gentle silence settled over them like a fog, warm and comforting, thick enough to sink into and soft enough to mold around his body.
He drifted, lulled by the feeling of Dom's fingertips brushing slowly up and down the side of his arm, tracing shapes that felt nonsensical at first until one curved and glided just so, and his attention honed back in on his own body. Slowly, the shapes Dom was drawing began to make sense. The swoop and arc of his fingertips traced tangled serpents and caressed the side of Medusa's face, almost—maybe entirely—unconsciously. His gaze was focused on the television, one arm tucked up against his chest, while the other hand simply trailed the lines as if he had them memorized. Damian's fingers stroked down the side of his neck, thumb tracing over his collarbone and shoulder before slipping back into his hair again, and shifted his arm a bit closer, easier to reach.
"Have you seen Adam's show?" Dom murmured, turning just slightly to look over his shoulder at Damian, his big, dark eyes wide and gentle and curious. 
He couldn't help but laugh. Of course, to Dom, it was Adam's show, even though he was only in—what?—three episodes. But he nodded, twisting one long strand of hair around his finger. In his gut, he knew what question was probably coming next, but he still offered a soft smile and said, "Yeah, why?"
Dom shrugged. "Just wondering if that's why you got her—" His fingers swooped across Medusa's face again, then down towards Damian's wrist. "Because of the story, I mean."
It was innocuous enough that Damian probably could have skirted around the subject if he wanted to. But it felt—maybe not pointless, but unnecessary. There were parts of himself he'd always kept hidden away—for good reason—and Dom's innocent question brought one of those shadowy things stumbling out of the dark to sit in the center of his chest. And, somehow, it didn't feel as heavy as it once had. Maybe time did heal all wounds or some trite, cliche shit like that; or maybe the salve they'd been applying to it over the last months—years, in some cases—had finally started to heal something. Either way, it didn't feel as deep as it had three years ago when he'd sat down in a tattoo parlor, across from a woman with the prettiest rose-colored hair he'd ever seen, and spilled the entire story over the course of a six-hour session.
He swallowed around the knot that tried to form in the back of his throat, the phantom tingle of needle pricks flaring up along his arm, and nodded again, his smile soft and genuine even if there was a heaviness still sitting just below the surface. But Dom had already seen the flicker in his expression, the slight deepening of the lines around his eyes, the way his fingertips stuttered then stilled where they rest on the arc of Dom's shoulder.
"I'm not supposed to ask that, am I?" he said—timid, a little hesitant, a trace of worry in his voice that he had upset Damian. 
But he just shook his head and gathered Dom a little closer, watching Rhea out of the corner of his eye as she set her tools down and shifted around to face them both. "No, no, it's alright, hermano. You can ask. It was a really long time ago, and I'm mostly okay now."
"Mostly?" Dom echoed, looking up at him again, searching his face, trying to find an answer in his expression.
There was no reason to try to hide anything—not with them. They didn't need the pretty version of things—the glossed-over, watered-down, sanitized truth. It was messy and ugly and uncomfortable, but they were safe, and that was the only thing that mattered. Still, he felt that hard throb in the center of his chest, the last dying ember of a fear he'd spent years trying to extinguish and couldn't quite snuff out completely. He'd learned to live with it, to maneuver around it, and it remained largely inconspicuous if still softly smoldering somewhere in the distance. But here, now, he felt like he could pick that ember up in his bare hands and not get burned by it. It was as small a spark as it had ever been.
Rhea leaned her elbow against the back of the sofa, resting her chin on her hand, looking at Damian with a softness that made his heart ache, but he couldn't quite bring himself to meet her gaze just yet. Instead, he shifted a little and tugged Dom upright, coaxing him into his lap so Rhea had space to move up onto the couch next to them. He slipped into the space between Damian's thigh and the arm of the sofa, legs draped over and between his, shoulder tucked just under his arm, blanket folded around their limbs. 
He felt Rhea's lips fall against his cheek as she rose and took her place on the other side, her legs tucked beneath her as she reached for him and tangled their fingers together. Part of him was glad it was just the three of them, then. It wasn't that he didn't want Finn and JD to know, just that it seemed easier to deal with when there weren't so many people staring at him. The wound had healed, sure, but it had scarred, and some of those scars were thicker, deeper than others. It was hard to know where to start sometimes. He cleared his throat, blinked a few times, and stared up at the ceiling.
"Truth is," he started, gaze gliding back to the television and the credits rolling there. "I wasn't fully aware of what was happening at the time. There were just a bunch of whispered conversations I don't think I was ever meant to hear, and then, all of a sudden, I was being shipped back to New York. I didn't understand why I had to leave—just that everyone was upset all the time, and all I knew was that I was at the center of it. I thought I was being punished for something, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know how to process everything that was going on either—so I just didn't."
Silence hung heavy for a few seconds, but Damian needed that pause to ground himself—to settle into the warmth that surrounded them, the feeling of Rhea's thumb brushing over his knuckles, and Dom's hand curled softly in the front of his shirt. 
"I didn't start dealing with any of it until a lot later," he continued, still staring at some vague spot in the middle distance. "I had a coach who basically told me to get my shit together, then shoved me in the direction of a therapist. I hated it. I thought it was stupid and pointless—that there was nothing I could benefit from knowing—that it was gonna be a massive waste of time. Then, little by little, it started to help—even if, eventually, it opened up a can of worms I didn't realize was actually full of snakes. Once I started digging, I started to remember, and it hit me like a fucking truck. I had nightmares for weeks. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I could barely make it to practice. I was a wreck. And, thankfully, a lot of people gave me a lot of grace while it was happening. They didn't know—no one did—they just knew I was trying to get my head on straight and that, hopefully, I was going to come out the other side of it better."
His throat was dry, and he could feel his voice faltering, but he forced himself to keep going. It was cathartic, in a way, like taking a hot knife to an infected wound and prying it open so the poison could drain out.
"There were things that had grown around that initial memory, though—rooted into it, branched off of it—things that needed to be handled separate from everything else. But by the time I moved to Vegas, I'd gotten a hold of most of that, too. The real bone-deep pain wasn't there anymore. Every once in a while, something still flares up, and I have to sit with it for a bit, but..." he shrugged, "but at least I can sit with it now. I can look at it and acknowledge that it's there, and it hurts, and that's okay. Most of the time, it's just phantom pain, anyway; something that aches because it remembers, not because it's still bleeding."
Rhea's palm slid against his cheek, cupping his jaw as she guided his face towards hers, and he felt the slightest sting in the corners of his eyes. That was residual, too—a reflex left over from all the times he'd secluded himself in some small, dark place, hoping he might feel safe enough to cry through the pain. He blinked it away and leaned into her touch, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. He could feel her eyelashes flutter against his, her fingernails gliding softly through his beard, holding him there as he breathed deep and steadied himself. When he pulled back, he found Dom's dark eyes still watching him, quiet and curious and unassuming—a dozen different questions lingering in his gaze. Damian carded his fingers through his hair, tucking loose strands away from his face, tracing the line of his jaw with his thumb. Dom's lips twitched into a soft smile, and he pressed his cheek into Damian's palm.
"Is that why you've always been so good with me and my bad dreams?" he asked.
He laughed and nodded, his smile finally softening into something more natural. "I'm sure it has something to do with it, yeah. But you're easy to take care of."
His smile faded for a moment as he shifted his hand to curl around Dom's shoulder, holding him snug against his chest. If he'd noticed the flicker of emotion on Damian's face that time, he didn't let on; he just tucked himself in closer, drawing his knees up, and nuzzled into the solid expanse of Damian's chest. Sometimes he wondered how alike the two of them were and how much Dom kept quietly closed off for the sake of everyone else around him—to continue being the bright little ball of sunshine they all knew. But it wasn't the right time to start digging into that. He could only hope that offering this small fragment of himself would be enough that they might also feel safe in unburdening their darkness with him—more than they already had. He pressed a kiss to the top of Dom's head and shifted his gaze back to Rhea, catching the soft, sidelong glance she cast in his direction.
"I'm proud of you," she said, her voice low and warm, gentle as she drew her fingers through his hair and grazed her thumb along his temple. "You know that, right?"
Damian hummed, the sound rumbling in the back of his throat, and nodded, turning his face to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "I do," he murmured, reaching for her other hand again. "But it's still nice to hear sometimes."
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