#the way it's all about performance and the gaze...... i'm feral

[rinbylin]

He was very responsive to my ancient Oriental ways of love. All of which I invented myself, just for him.

M. BUTTERFLY (1993) dir. David Cronenberg

[romugh]

THE WIDOW'S LACE - NR

pairing- stripper!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!natasha, strappie (n rcv), strappie suckie (r rcv), fingering (n rcv), oral (r rcv), rough'-ish' sex? - i think that's all!

wc- 7.7k (of pure smut) I'M SORRY I'M TRYING TO WRITE SHORTER FICS I PROMISE

a/n- part 1, because YES i have THREE parts ready for this. have fun reading! (big shoutout to @traveler-at-heart; your post made me go feral, i adore you)

synopsis- you find yourself in a stripclub, then suddenly you find yourself in a stripper.

taglist- @lost-mortemanghel - dm or comment to be added to my taglist! x

Natasha wasn’t just any stripper. She was the stripper. The one everyone fell in love with the moment she stepped on stage. Her body moved like sin wrapped in silk, her confidence radiating like a flame that drew every pair of eyes in the club to her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and more importantly, she knew exactly what effect she had on people.

Men and women alike couldn’t help but stare, their lust and admiration hanging thick in the air as they watched her every move. She thrived off it, fed off the power she held over them. They came in hoping for a glance, a smile, a touch. And she delivered—just enough to keep them coming back, but never enough to give them what they really wanted. That was how she liked it. She held the control. Always.

But tonight, something was different.

Amidst the usual sea of desire-filled gazes, she noticed you. You weren’t like the others. Your eyes weren’t filled with the same desperation, the same helpless longing. You weren’t staring at her like she was a goddess to be worshipped. No, you looked at her like she was a challenge. Like you could see right through the seductive veil she’d carefully crafted. It made her stomach twist in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

As she danced, her eyes would flick to you now and again, curious and intrigued. She was used to adoration, not this steady, controlled gaze that almost felt like it was pulling her in. And when the set ended, when her body stilled but her heart raced, she found herself making a decision she hadn’t made in a long time.

She led you to the back room, a place few had ever been. Not because it wasn’t allowed, but because Natasha rarely felt the need to take anyone there. She didn’t need the intimacy the room allowed for, she didn’t crave connection. But there was something about the way you looked at her, like you were waiting for her to slip, waiting for the moment her confidence faltered, and it made her want to see how far you’d push her.

The door clicked shut behind her, the faint thrum of bass from the bar fading into the background as the two of you were swallowed by the dimly lit room. Natasha leaned back against the door, her chest still heaving slightly from the exertion of the performance, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.

“You think you’re something special, huh?” she asked, her voice smooth but with an edge of amusement, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. She tilted her head, watching you carefully, as if expecting you to crumble under her stare like everyone else did.

But you didn’t. Instead, you stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, the weight of your presence filling the small space. The air grew thicker with tension, and for the first time in a long while, Natasha wasn’t sure if she was the one in control anymore.

“Do you?” you countered, voice low and calm, your eyes never leaving hers.

Her smirk didn’t falter, but the challenge in your words sent a thrill through her, one she hadn’t expected. She straightened, pushing off the door slightly, closing the gap between you even more, her body mere inches from yours. She could feel your heat, and it made her pulse quicken despite herself.

“You’re not like the others,” she said, her voice dropping an octave as her gaze raked over you, taking in the steady confidence in your stance. “But you’re still here.”

“So are you.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with something that neither of you wanted to name just yet. Natasha could feel the tension, thick and suffocating, like static in the air before a storm. Her body was taut, her skin prickling with anticipation, but she refused to show it. She wouldn’t let you see the effect you were having on her. Not yet.

Then, in one smooth movement, you closed the remaining space between you, your body pressing into hers, pinning her gently but firmly against the door. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat at the sudden proximity, but she didn’t pull away. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Instead, she lifted her chin, eyes defiant even as her pulse raced beneath her skin. “What’s your plan?” she asked, her voice still steady, but with a hint of breathlessness now, a tremor that betrayed the control she was so desperately clinging to.

Your lips were so close to hers now that she could feel the warmth of your breath against her skin. But instead of kissing her, you hovered, the tension between your mouths almost unbearable. She was used to people taking what they wanted from her, always rushing to close the gap, always desperate for her touch. But you held back, and that restraint was driving her mad.

“You’ll see,” you murmured, your voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest, her body betraying her, a flush rising in her cheeks as the weight of your presence pressed down on her. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t entirely sure what would happen next, and the thrill of that uncertainty coursed through her veins like fire.

Then, without warning, your hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head back, forcing her to look up at you. Natasha gasped, her lips parting in surprise, but her eyes remained defiant, daring you to do more, to push her further.

“You want this, don’t you?” you asked, your voice steady, commanding.

Her lips curled into a smirk, though her breath hitched slightly under your firm grip. “Maybe,” she replied, her voice dripping with defiance, even as her body arched toward you, craving more.

“Then show me,” you demanded, and with that, you released her hair, watching as she slid down to her knees with a fluid grace that still spoke of her control, her pride. Even now, on her knees, she wasn’t submitting. She was choosing to allow you to do this, and that made all the difference.

She looked up at you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar challenge, and then her gaze flicked to the strap you had tucked out of your pants. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips brushing against the tip of it, soft and teasing at first, like she was still testing the waters, still holding on to that last shred of control.

But the moment she tasted it, something shifted. Her tongue darted out, swirling around the tip before she took it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours. She wasn’t rushing, no, the Black Widow never rushed for anyone. But there was an urgency now, a tension in the way her hands gripped your thighs as she worked the strap deeper into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with effort.

You watched as she swallowed her pride along with the length of the strap, her eyes watering slightly as she struggled to take it deeper. But she didn’t stop, didn’t pull back. She pushed herself further, her throat constricting around it, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she gagged softly around the toy.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked, your voice laced with dark amusement as you thrust your hips forward, pushing the strap deeper into her mouth. Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her body trembling as she struggled to take more.

Her nails dug into your thighs, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts as you fucked her mouth, the wet sounds filling the room. Her control was slipping, piece by piece, and you could see the frustration in her eyes when she looked up at you, her gaze filled with a mix of defiance and need.

You pulled back suddenly, the strap slipping from her lips with a wet pop. Natasha gasped, her chest heaving as she panted, her lips swollen and red from the effort, saliva glistening on her chin. She looked wrecked, but not broken. Not yet.

“Something wrong?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

She narrowed her eyes. "You could help," she murmured, trying to regain some of the control she was losing, had already lost. 

“You want help?” you asked, your tone low, teasing. You pushed her head back toward the strap, watching her struggle against her own desire for dominance. She needed this—needed you—but she wasn’t ready to admit it, not fully.

Natasha’s lips parted, taking the strap back into her mouth, but you didn’t let her have it easy. Your hips thrust forward, forcing her to take it deeper than before. Her throat constricted around it, her eyes watering slightly as you pushed deeper. She gagged, her nails digging into your thighs, but she didn’t pull back.

"Is this what you wanted?" you asked, your voice harder now, more demanding. Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, her body tense as you fucked her mouth, using her. The wet sounds filled the room, mixing with the faint bass from the bar outside.

Natasha choked slightly as you pushed in deeper, but she didn’t stop, her body trembling as she tried to take more of it. But you could see it—her frustration. The realisation that she wasn’t fully in control was pushing her over the edge.

Her breath was ragged when you finally pulled back, saliva glistening on the strap as she panted, lips trembling with effort. Her eyes met yours, and for the first time, she looked... needy. Desperate, even.

“You need more, don’t you?” you asked, gripping her hair tightly. “You think you can handle it?”

She didn’t answer right away, her throat working hard to swallow her pride along with the saliva pooling in her mouth. And then, quietly, she nodded. Just once.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please.”

That was all you needed to hear. You yanked her up by the hair, spinning her around and pressing her up against the door. Natasha’s breath hitched, but she didn’t protest. She wasn’t giving up, but she was giving in.

You crashed your mouth against hers, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for doubt. This wasn’t about control anymore—it was about possession. You bit down on her lower lip, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, her body arching toward you as if she couldn’t help herself.

Natasha's gasp filled the small room, her lips bruised and swollen from your punishing kiss. She should have hated it—the loss of control, the way you commanded her body with nothing more than your presence—but instead, it made her burn. Her skin was flushed, her breath coming in short, shallow pants as you pressed her firmly against the door, your hand still tangled in her hair, holding her exactly where you wanted her.

Her body betrayed her, arching into you, her hips moving instinctively, desperate for any friction to relieve the building pressure inside her. She was wet—soaking, even—and you hadn’t even touched her properly yet. The realisation made her cheeks flush hotter, though whether it was from embarrassment or arousal, she couldn’t tell.

You pulled back just enough to look at her, your eyes dark, predatory, as they swept over her flushed face, her heaving chest, and the slight tremble in her legs. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice a low rasp, sending shivers down her spine. “All that control you like to have… where is it now?”

Natasha swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, but she couldn’t find the words. She had no clever retort, no sharp quip to throw back at you. She was too lost in the way you were looking at her, too consumed by the need coursing through her veins.

Your grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head back slightly, forcing her to look up at you. “Answer me,” you demanded, your lips brushing against her ear, your breath hot against her skin. “Where’s all that control, Natasha?”

She shuddered, her eyelids fluttering as her body arched toward you once more. “Gone,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice trembling with the weight of her admission. It was a small crack in her armour, but it was enough. The moment you uttered her off-stage name, the one no one else knew, Natasha’s brain short-circuited.

You smirked, satisfied with her answer. “Good girl.” The praise made her stomach flip, a rush of heat spreading through her as the words sank in. She didn’t realise how badly she had wanted it—needed it—until you gave it to her.

Without another word, you spun her around, pressing her chest against the cold, hard surface of the door. Natasha’s breath hitched, her hands splaying against the wood as she tried to ground herself. You stepped closer, your body pressing against hers from behind, your fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down her spine.

She was tense, muscles coiled tight, every nerve ending on fire as your hand slid lower, lower, until your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her panties. The moment you touched her, a low moan slipped from her lips, her hips bucking back against you, desperate for more.

“Patience,” you murmured against her ear, your lips grazing her skin. “I’m not done playing with you yet.” Your fingers teased her, slipping through her slick folds, but never giving her enough pressure to satisfy the ache between her thighs. Natasha groaned, her head dropping forward, her forehead pressing against the door as she struggled to keep herself together.

But you didn’t let up. You kept her right on the edge, drawing out every gasp, every shiver, every desperate sound she made until she was trembling beneath your touch, her body begging for release.

“Please,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough for you. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear as you pressed two fingers deep inside her without warning.

Natasha gasped, her whole body jolting from the sudden intrusion, but she didn’t protest. She couldn’t. All she could do was moan, her fingers curling against the door as her body surrendered to the pleasure you were giving her.

You moved slowly at first, your fingers thrusting in and out of her with a measured precision, building her up, making her crave more. Her hips moved in time with your hand, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she chased the release that was just out of reach.

But then, just when she thought she might finally tip over the edge, you stilled your movements.

“No!” The word slipped out before she could stop it, her body still writhing, desperate for the release you kept denying her. She turned her head slightly, looking at you over her shoulder, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please, don’t stop.”

You chuckled softly, your breath warm against her neck as you leaned in closer. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice a low, dangerous rasp. “Begging for it. You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Natasha bit her lip, her cheeks flushing hot with shame and arousal. She should have hated the way you were toying with her, should have fought back, but she couldn’t. Not when her body was burning like this, not when she was so close to falling apart beneath your touch.

Your fingers curled inside her, pressing against that spot deep within her that made her see stars. Natasha moaned, her hips bucking back against you, her whole body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.

“Come for me, Natasha,” you whispered against her ear, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

It was all she needed. With a sharp cry, her body tensed, her muscles clenching tight around your fingers as she came hard, her release washing over her like a tidal wave. She gasped for air, her body shaking as you worked her through it, your fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she was a trembling, panting mess.

When it was over, when her body finally stopped trembling, you pulled your fingers from her, a satisfied smirk tugging at your lips as you watched her slump against the door, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing now as you brushed a strand of hair from her face. Natasha shuddered at the praise, her heart still racing as she tried to catch her breath.

Before she could fully recover, you turned her around again, pressing her back against the door as your lips crashed against hers in a bruising, possessive kiss. Natasha moaned into your mouth, her hands gripping your shoulders, pulling you closer, her body still aching for more, even after the intense release you’d just given her.

Your hands roamed her body, your fingers skimming over her bare skin. She shivered at your touch, her breath hitching as your hands moved higher, teasing the edges of her red corset.

“Do you want more?” you whispered against her lips, your voice dark and teasing.

Natasha nodded, her fingers tightening on your shoulders. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice soft and desperate.

She was still trembling, her breath ragged as she tried to recover, but you weren’t done with her yet. Not even close. You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing over her jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Her head fell back against the door with a soft thud, her skin flushed, pupils blown wide as she looked at you with a haze of lust clouding her gaze. You could see how desperate she was, how badly her body was craving more, needing to be filled.

Your hand slid down her thigh, strong fingers curling around her knee as you lifted her leg, pushing it up to her chest. The position opened her up to you in a way that made your mouth water, giving you the perfect view of her already slick and swollen entrance, quivering and glistening with arousal. Her panties had been soaked through long before, but you ripped them down her legs now, tossing them aside without a second thought. Natasha whimpered, her fingers clutching at your shoulders as her body arched, her hips instinctively pushing toward you, searching for the friction she so desperately needed.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice low and dark with desire as your hand travelled back up her thigh, tracing the sensitive skin with teasing slowness. “So fucking wet and ready for me.” You reached between your bodies, gripping the base of your strap as you positioned it at her entrance, the thick head brushing against her slick folds. Natasha’s breath hitched, her whole body tightening in anticipation, her hands curling into fists as she pressed back against the door, trying to steady herself.

“Please,” she breathed, her voice barely audible, but dripping with need. “Please, I need it.”

You gave a low, satisfied chuckle, your eyes never leaving hers as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear. “I know you do, sweetheart,” you whispered, your voice a low rasp that sent shivers down her spine. You nudged the strap forward slightly, just enough to let the tip press into her, but not enough to give her the relief she craved. Natasha whimpered, her hips bucking toward you, desperate to take more.

“Shh,” you cooed, tightening your grip on the back of her thigh as you pressed her knee further against her chest, opening her up even more. “I’ll give you what you need, but I want to hear you beg for it.”

Natasha bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire, but she couldn’t deny how badly she wanted it—needed it. “Please,” she whispered again, her voice trembling. “Please, fuck me… I need it so bad.”

Your smirk widened, and without another word, you slowly pushed forward, the thick head of your strap finally pressing into her tight, wet heat. Natasha gasped, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her body jolted at the sudden intrusion. She was tight, impossibly tight, her walls clenching around the silicone in a way that made it difficult to press any deeper, but the resistance only made you want it more.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, her voice a high-pitched whine as you continued to push inside her, every inch stretching her further, forcing her to take more of you. “You’re—too big,” she panted, her head falling back against the door as her hips jerked forward, trying to accommodate the stretch.

“Shh,” you murmured against her neck, your lips grazing the sensitive skin as you gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You can take it, baby. I know you can.”

Natasha whimpered again, her walls fluttering and clenching around the thick strap, trying to pull it deeper, even though it was almost too much. You could see how tight she was, almost feel how every ridge and fake vein on the strap dragged against her slick walls, sending shivers of pleasure through her body with every inch you pushed inside. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, her chest heaving as she struggled to take more of you, her body trembling with the effort.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you groaned, your own voice strained with arousal as you finally bottomed out inside her, the base of the strap pressing against her soaked folds. Natasha cried out, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her hips jerked forward, trying to take you even deeper. She was stretched so wide around the strap, her walls clenching and pulsing around the intrusion, desperate for more.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice low and rough with desire as you glanced down at where your strap was buried deep inside her. The sight was sinful—Natasha’s leg pressed high against her chest, her pussy stretched around your thick strap, her slick juices coating the silicone and dripping down her thighs. “You look so fucking good taking all of this, baby.”

Natasha whimpered, her head tilting forward just enough to look down at the obscene sight between her legs. She could see the way her walls clenched around the strap, the way her slick arousal dripped down her thighs, and it made her body burn with embarrassment and desire. She was so full, so impossibly full, but she needed more—she needed you to move.

“Please,” she begged, her voice a high-pitched whine as her hips bucked forward, trying to get you to thrust inside her. “Please, I need you to move.”

Your smirk deepened, your other hand sliding up her thigh to grip her hip as you pulled back slightly, the thick strap dragging against her sensitive walls with agonising slowness. Natasha gasped, her whole body shuddering at the sensation, her head falling back against the door as her fingers dug into your shoulders.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you groaned, your voice low and breathless as you thrust back into her, the strap filling her once more. Natasha cried out, her body jolting at the sudden movement, her walls clenching around the silicone as you began to thrust into her with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Natasha’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body trembling as the pleasure built with every thrust. She was so full, so stretched, every inch of the strap dragging against her sensitive walls, making her burn with need. Her hips bucked against you, desperate for more, and you were all too happy to give it to her.

You quickened your pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the small room. Natasha’s cries grew louder, her hands clutching at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as her body shuddered with every thrust. Her walls clenched around the thick strap, trying to keep you buried deep inside her, but you kept up your relentless pace, fucking her harder, faster, until her whole body was trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts.

“Fuck, you’re taking it so good,” you groaned, your voice rough with arousal as you watched the way her body shook, the way her pussy stretched around your strap.  Natasha’s leg was still raised high, your grip on her thigh unwavering, giving you that sinful view of her slick, swollen pussy stretched wide around the strap.

“Please,” Natasha whimpered, her voice a breathless moan as her body trembled beneath you. “Please, I’m so close.”

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear as you thrust into her even harder, the thick strap filling her completely, dragging against every sensitive inch of her walls. “Then come for me,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you come all over this strap.”

Natasha’s breath hitched, her body arching into you as the pleasure built to an unbearable level. And then, with one final, deep thrust, she shattered. A scream tore from her lips as her walls clenched tight around the strap, her whole body trembling as the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her gasping for breath.

The moment Natasha came undone, her body arched beautifully against the door, trembling violently as the wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her walls clenched so tightly around the strap that you could feel the pressure even through the silicone, and the sight of her falling apart in your hands only fueled the fire raging inside you.

You didn’t let up, not even for a second.

With each pull of your hips, the fake veins on the strap dragged against her sensitive inner walls, teasing the oversensitive flesh until Natasha was nothing but a writhing, gasping mess. Her eyes rolled back, half-lidded with pleasure, and her lips parted in a soft, helpless moan every time you thrust back into her. You could feel the way she pulsed around the strap, her orgasm still crashing through her, each thrust prolonging the pleasure, edging her closer to that line between unbearable ecstasy and delicious torment.

“God, you’re so good for me,” you groaned, your breath hitching as you felt the silicone slip inside her once more, filling her to the hilt. Natasha whimpered, her head falling back against the door, her nails biting into your shoulders. Her leg quivered in your grasp, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how utterly wrecked she was beneath you.

With a low growl of satisfaction, you pressed her thigh even higher, opening her up even more, pushing her to the very limit of her flexibility. The new angle had the thick strap sinking impossibly deep, and Natasha gasped, her entire body jolting at the sensation. As her free leg instinctively wrapped around your waist, anchoring herself to you, you felt the shift in her balance—she had nothing keeping her standing anymore, fully depending on you.

“Fuck!” Natasha cried out, her voice cracking as you pulled back and slammed forward again, the wet sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room. “I— I can’t— it’s too much!” You pressed her up against the door even more, using your strength to hold her in place as her body trembled under the onslaught of pleasure, the desperation in her voice only igniting your need for her further.

Her whimpers were nearly incoherent, her face flushed with exertion, but you could see the glint of desire still lingering in her eyes. She was teetering on the edge of overstimulation, but you knew she craved every second of it. She wanted to feel all of it—the stretch, the burn, the fullness. The way the strap forced her walls to accommodate the thickness, how each and every detail of your faux-cock dragged along her inner muscles, heightening her pleasure with each stroke.

"You take it so well, baby," you cooed, your voice dripping with confidence and dominance. "You’re doing so well. Look at you—fucking yourself on my strap like this."

Her breath hitched again at your words, a shiver of arousal rolling through her already trembling body. She was utterly at your mercy, and you loved it. You loved how she fought against the overwhelming pleasure, how she clenched so desperately around the strap, trying to draw it deeper into her slick heat. Her need for more, despite the delicious torment, was written all over her flushed face, her parted lips, her half-lidded eyes filled with lust and desperation.

You picked up your pace again, your hips snapping forward with a relentless rhythm that had Natasha gasping for air, her nails scraping down your back as she arched off the door, her body shuddering with each deep, powerful thrust.

“Oh god—oh fuck,” she whimpered, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The leg wrapped around you trembled, barely able to hold on as her body shook under the intense pleasure you were giving her. Her thighs were slick with her arousal, her pussy dripping with how desperately wet she was, and you couldn’t help but groan at the sight of her coming undone again and again.

“Good girl,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you leaned in closer, pressing your lips to her ear. “Look at yourself. Look at how fucking good you look with my cock buried inside you.”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze hazy as she glanced down between your bodies. The sight made her moan—a deep, breathless sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through her. She could see it—the thick, veined strap disappearing into her, stretching her wide, her swollen folds glistening with her arousal. Every thrust made her slick pussy tighten around the silicone, and the sight of it only spurred you on.

You adjusted your grip on her thigh, pulling her leg even higher, pushing her closer to the door as you thrust harder, deeper, the wet sound of her slick arousal mixing with her breathless moans.

“Oh god—fuck!” Natasha cried out, her walls fluttering violently around the strap as you drove her toward yet another climax. “I— I’m gonna—fuck, please don’t stop!”

Her entire body tensed, her head falling back against the door as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm. Her walls clenched around the strap, trying to milk every inch of it as you thrust into her with a brutal, unforgiving force.

“That’s it,” you groaned, your voice low and commanding as you felt her walls begin to spasm around the strap, her breath hitching as her climax built. “Come for me again, Natasha.”

With one final, hard thrust, Natasha shattered, her entire body jerking as a scream ripped from her throat. Her walls clamped down around the thick silicone, pulsing wildly as her orgasm tore through her, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. She was trembling, gasping for air as her body convulsed beneath you, her slick juices dripping down her thighs, soaking both of you.

You kept thrusting into her, slow and deep, prolonging her pleasure as you rode out her orgasm with her. Natasha’s body jerked with each thrust, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts as her hands clung to your shoulders, trying to ground herself in the overwhelming sensation.

When her trembling finally began to subside, you slowed your pace, easing her leg down from where it had been pressed against her chest, her body slumping against you in exhaustion. Her head fell against your shoulder, her breath hot and ragged against your skin as you gently pulled out of her, the slick strap glistening with her release.

As Natasha’s trembling body sagged against you, her breath still coming in ragged bursts, you could feel the way her grip on your shoulders loosened and her leg let go of your waist. The aftermath of her climax left her shaky, her muscles quivering from the overwhelming pleasure you’d just wrung from her body. But even in her exhausted state, you could sense her lingering need. It simmered beneath her flushed skin, a wantonness that never quite faded, even when she was wrecked like this.

Without a word, Natasha sank down, her legs buckling as she willingly dropped to her knees. The sight alone was enough to send a fresh surge of heat coursing through you—Natasha, her thighs glistening with her release, her hair dishevelled, and her lips parted as she knelt between your legs. Her eyes, half-lidded and dark with desire, flickered up to meet yours, a silent plea for permission lingering in her gaze.

Your hand instinctively found its way to her cheek, fingers brushing across the warm skin as you gently tilted her face up. Her lips ghosted over your knuckles, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin before she shifted her focus downward. Her gaze dropped to the strap still glistening between your legs, slick with her arousal, and you could see the hunger spark in her eyes.

“Natasha…” you whispered, your voice thick with a mixture of affection and desire.

But she didn’t need any further encouragement. Her hands, still trembling slightly, reached for the base of the strap, steadying it as she licked her lips. The tip was soaked in her juices, glistening under the soft light, and Natasha stared at it for a moment, almost mesmerised by the evidence of her own pleasure. Then, with a soft moan, she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of the strap, sucking it into her mouth with slow, deliberate movements.

You groaned softly, your hand moving to rest on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as you watched her work. Natasha’s tongue swirled around the head of the strap, tasting herself on the silicone, her mouth moving in languid strokes as she took more of it into her mouth. Her release coated her lips, shining as she sucked the slickness off, moaning low in her throat as she worked to clean the strap.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her focus entirely on the task at hand as she bobbed her head, her lips stretching around the girth. You could feel the pressure of her movements even through the toy, the way she sucked and licked with such dedication. It was intoxicating—the sight of her on her knees, her mouth filled again with your strap, the faint, almost sinful sound of her moans vibrating against the silicone as she sucked her own release off of it.

“My good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and full of praise. “Look at you…so eager to clean up after yourself.”

Natasha whimpered in response, the sound muffled as her mouth slid down further on the strap, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder. Her hands came up to cradle the base, stroking it gently as her tongue flicked over the veined surface, cleaning every ridge, every dip, savouring the taste of herself.

You could feel her submission in every movement, the way she surrendered completely to this moment. Her mouth moved with such deliberate care, as if this was another way of showing her devotion, her gratitude for the pleasure you’d given her. The way she worshipped the strap was almost reverent, her tongue lapping up every drop of her arousal, cleaning it with slow, sensual strokes.

“Does it taste good?” you asked softly, your fingers tightening slightly in her hair.

Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with yours as she pulled back just enough to speak, her lips still wrapped around the head of the strap.

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice hoarse with lust. “So good…”

And with that, she took the strap deeper, moaning as her mouth stretched again to accommodate it. The sight was almost too much—her lips wrapped around the thick girth, her tongue working tirelessly to clean it, her eyes dark and hooded with lust as she looked up at you, completely at your mercy.

You couldn’t resist. With a low growl, you tightened your grip on her hair and gently guided her head forward, watching as more of the strap disappeared into her mouth. Natasha didn’t hesitate, didn’t resist. She eagerly followed your lead, sinking down on the strap with a soft, muffled moan as she took it deeper, her tongue swirling around the silicone as she sucked harder.

The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth working the strap echoed in the room, mingling with her soft whimpers of pleasure. Each time she pulled back, her lips glistened with slickness, her saliva mixing with the remnants of her release as she diligently cleaned the strap. The sight, the sounds, the intoxicating feel of her submission—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but groan in response. It felt so different from just twenty minutes ago, the air now thick with an emotional tension that left both you and her craving more.

“Such a good girl…” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “You love this, don’t you? Love tasting yourself on my cock like this?”

Natasha moaned again, her eyes rolling back slightly as she nodded, her mouth still full of the strap. Her fingers tightened around the base, her tongue swirling with renewed intensity as she sucked harder, her moans vibrating against the silicone in a way that had your own breath hitching in your throat.

You tugged her hair gently, pulling her back just enough to see her flushed, eager face, her lips even more swollen and slick from her efforts. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with lust and devotion, and the sight of her—completely wrecked, completely at your mercy—made your heart race.

“Finish it, once more,” you whispered, your voice soft but commanding. “Clean it all up, baby.”

Natasha’s breath hitched, and with one last, eager moan, she sank down again, taking the strap as deep as she could, her lips stretched tight around the girth. Her tongue worked tirelessly, lapping up the last remnants of her release, her fingers stroking the base as she cleaned every inch of the strap with slow, deliberate care.

By the time she finally pulled back, the strap was glistening with nothing but her saliva. She looked up at you, her eyes hazy with pleasure, her mouth hanging open slightly as she panted for oxygen.

Natasha’s chest heaved, her lips still glistening as she knelt before you, a blend of exhaustion and determination in her eyes. Her body was clearly spent, trembling from the intensity of everything that had just unfolded, yet even in her weary state, a flicker of something more shone through. That relentless desire, the insatiable need to please you, to reciprocate the pleasure you had so generously given her, burned bright within her. It was as if the connection between you two transcended the physical, igniting a fire that she couldn't ignore.

With a shaky breath, Natasha reached for the harness still strapped to your hips. Her fingers, though trembling from exhaustion, worked quickly to undo the buckles, each one coming undone with a soft click. You could feel her need—this wasn’t just about giving; it was about showing you that she was still capable, that she could offer you more. Her eyes met yours briefly, the unspoken plea for permission lingering in their depths before she yanked the harness off completely.

Without a word, she tossed it behind you, the strap landing on the floor with a dull thud, completely forgotten. What mattered now was you—your pleasure, your release.

“Natasha, you don’t have to…” you started to say, but your words were cut short as she leaned forward, her hands gripping your thighs with surprising strength, anchoring you in place.

“I want to,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but resolute. “I need to.”

Before you could protest further, Natasha dove in, her mouth finding you with an eagerness that made your breath hitch. Her lips latched onto your sensitive folds, tongue immediately parting you as she licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your centre, savouring every inch of your heat. A low moan escaped your lips, and as soon as Natasha heard that first sound of pleasure, it was like a spark ignited within her.

She dove in deeper, her tongue working you with relentless precision, swirling and flicking against your most sensitive spots, teasing and tasting in a way that had your head thudding against the door in front of you. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you spread open for her as she devoured you like she couldn’t get enough. Each stroke of her tongue, each gentle nip of her lips, sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, and it didn’t take long before you were moaning openly, your hand tangling in her messy hair as you rocked your hips against her mouth.

“Fuck, Natasha…” you gasped, your voice thick with lust and awe. “Just like that…”

Your praise only fueled her further. Every moan, every word of encouragement that slipped past your lips made her work harder, her tongue moving faster, her lips sucking greedily at your clit. She was completely lost in it, lost in the way you responded to her touch, in the way your body trembled beneath her mouth. It was like she couldn’t get enough of your taste, couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made—the way you were falling apart for her.

And as you moaned her name again, louder this time, Natasha whimpered softly against you, her hips involuntarily bucking as if she could feel every ounce of pleasure you were experiencing. The connection between the two of you was palpable, an unspoken bond that seemed to tether your bodies together, each of your reactions sending waves of sensation through both of you.

She could hear the way your breath hitched, feel the way your thighs clenched around her head, and it drove her wild. Your pleasure was her pleasure, your release was her reward. Natasha’s own arousal was building again, the slickness between her thighs only intensifying as she tasted you, her own body responding to the rhythm of your moans, the raw, unfiltered sounds of your ecstasy.

“Oh fuck–Natasha…” Your breath was ragged, your body on the edge, teetering precariously close to that release she was so desperate to give you.

With a final flick of her tongue and a deep, sucking pull at your clit, you came undone. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under in a flood of overwhelming pleasure. Your hands clenched in her hair as your back arched off, your thighs squeezing her head tight as you cried out, your voice echoing through the room in breathless, blissful moans.

Natasha didn’t stop. Even as you writhed above her, she kept her mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your release, savouring every moan, every tremor of your body as you rode out your orgasm. And as you came, something shifted in her—something broke free inside her.

She felt it—the sudden, uncontrollable surge of pleasure that washed over her as your moans hit their peak. It was the mere sight of you, the way you fell apart for her, the way your body shook with pleasure, the way you moaned her name like she was the only thing that mattered that set it off.

Her own release hit her like a lightning strike, her body going rigid as her climax overtook her without warning. Natasha gasped, her mouth still pressed against you as she came, the shock of her own orgasm freezing her in place. The pleasure ripped through her, stealing her breath, her thighs quivering uncontrollably as she came just from the sight of you.

She pulled back from you slightly, her lips still wet with your release, her eyes wide with disbelief as her body shook with the aftershocks of her own unexpected orgasm. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her mind reeling from what had just happened. You were both wrapped in the warmth of the moment when suddenly, your phone rang loudly in the silence.

You reached for it, reluctantly pulling away from Natasha’s gaze. “Yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes, Pepper,” you replied, your voice a mix of disappointment and urgency.

Natasha smiled softly at you, a bittersweet feeling bubbling up inside her as she leaned into your touch, your hand gently stroking her cheek. There was a warmth in the gesture that made her heart flutter, an affirmation of the bond that had just blossomed between you two. She felt seen, cherished, even amidst the whirlwind of everything that had just transpired.

“Tell him to prepare some dessert,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I haven’t had the chance to have mine here. Hopefully next time I will, the menu looks promising.”

Natasha’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as she caught the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. You could see her heart racing, a delightful mix of embarrassment and exhilaration washing over her. The intimate nature of your exchange lingered in the air, and the thought of your teasing words sent a rush of warmth through her.

“Next time,” she echoed softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as the realisation settled in that you would be back for her.

With a final glance at her, you turned to leave, a flutter of anticipation sparking between you two. As you made your way towards the door, Natasha’s eyes followed you, filled with longing and excitement for what lay ahead. And as you stepped outside, you left behind the strap, a tangible reminder of your connection, a symbol of what you had shared.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Natasha alone in the room, her heart racing as she thought about everything that had just happened. She picked up the strap, feeling its weight in her hands, and a wicked smile spread across her lips.

She couldn’t wait for your return. She was already crafting ideas for the next time you’d come back, each thought fueling her desire for you even more. Because this was only the beginning, and she was ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing that you would both find your way back to each other, intertwined by the widow’s lace.

[highhhfiveee]

safety net, part three

part two: 🚿 | part four: 🏆

pairing: pornstar!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: y/n gets a taste of mike's world and things begin to shift. wc: 3.1k tags: lots of mentions of porn, smut (descriptions of sex being filmed, featuring unprotected sex, dirty talk, clit rubbing, squirting, some workplace intimacy lmao), angst?, exposition! proofread many times but if there are still errors, idk what to say lmao

“wow."

"i know right," you say plainly, eyes wide at your best friend, claire, as you take a large gulp of your hot latte. claire cuts her gaze to you, puffing her cheeks out in a sigh. you were always so in awe by her, the feeling proved once again when she'd actually agreed wholeheartedly to view your boyfriend's porn.

"i still don't believe that you're dating him," she sputters with outrage as she points to your computer on the dining room table, open to a still of mike with dick in hand, coming on some dark-haired girl's keen face. "and i don't believe it even more so because you decided to wait six months before telling me. i thought we were best friends!"

you can tell her outrage is whimsical by the way she faints into your arms, and you reach forward to catch her. 

"yeah but, like, best friends from adolescence that don't see each other very often. last time i saw you was three months ago." 

"okay, but by then you'd been dating him for three months, and that's almost half a year!" 

"barely, claire." 

you couldn't even believe that you were dating him. you hadn't known how you two went from meeting outside an underwhelming, overpriced restaurant to making out and cuddling intimately in mike's bed four out of seven days a week. it'd felt like no time had passed at all; you'd just been living without thinking. mike took every worry off your shoulders, freeing you of anxiety in so many ways that you couldn't believe someone that caring and accommodating was real.

he paid for your sessions after you'd mindlessly rambled about not being able to afford this therapist you really liked. he sent you the credentials to his grocery delivery membership, encouraging you to get anything you wanted or needed. you could finally consistently get things that were good, and healthy. he paid your rent, and respected the fact that you didn't want to move in with him and wanted autonomy to work and pay for your other personal expenses.

"i just want you to be happy. you tell me what you want, and we'll make it happen."

he had you and it didn't feel real. you felt like you couldn't tell anyone about it, terrified that everything would crumble if you spoke even a word about him being your partner, so sweet and good and rewarding. you didn't want to hide him, but you didn't want things to collapse. not this time. 

you wouldn't be able to take it this time. 

you explain all this to claire, ending with, "i'm sorry it took so long. i just really want this to last." you'd told her about everything, even about dating simon briefly and how he led you to mike. 

claire nods, chewing on a wedge of pineapple speared by a fork. she's given up her fainting performance, once again munching on her breakfast and clicking the pad on your laptop. the video you two were watching resumes, and you watch her face for bit, eyes shifting around the screen in intrigue, before turning back to it as well.

"you deserve it, y/n. that simon guy sounded like a dickhead. an expired card, and the bathroom excuse? fucking lame." her voice doesn't chop through the amplified sound of both mike and the girl moaning, whiny and feral. they're absolutely gone, and you're really not thinking about simon anymore. fuck him. 

now, you thought of mike.

granted, you hadn't been like the people in mike's videos, up to a certain point. you'd done the kissing and the heavy petting, but you hadn't had sex at all, in any form, and he didn't pressure you into feeling like it was some sort of requirement. he agreed with taking it slow, placing emphasis on the romantic before the sexual. you knew there would be no issues with the sexual; why rush into it when you could have the slow burn, all the tension you wanted up until you were ready?

mike hadn't fought it, and yeah, you thought, you did deserve it. you deserved to be treated like this. 

"called me over for an art date, i guess you still painted," the girl mewls with a devilish smile, licking at mike's---sorry, chase cox's---come around her mouth. 

"mhm, baby. masterpiece, if i do say so myself." mike is so pretty on the screen; sweaty and flustered, but so confident at the same time, polite too. even when he's in an act, he's so attentive; he moves hair away from eyes and wipes spit off chins and cradles waists while he adjusts his hips to hit various angles, turning almost everyone he filmed with into a "braindead fucktoy"---claire's filthy words, not yours (though you didn't mind the idea). 

the video ends with a snippet of aftercare, the both of them wiping at each other's bodies with gentle motions. it's how they all end, and you think it's really nice, showing a crucial part of sex that most people forgo. you'd seen plenty of mike's videos by now, and knew that while some were vastly more kinky than others, they all followed the same formula of care, concern, and curtesy. 

you could tell mike lived by that, too. 

"well, i gotta scoot to work," claire murmurs, leaning down to grab for her bag. "but thank you for inviting me to breakfast so you could show and tell me that you've been dating a wildly handsome, generous, and charismatic sex worker. best videos i've seen by far, honestly. are you seeing him today?" 

you nod sheepishly, and claire laughs into the sky, doctored with comical bitterness. "well, let the record show that i am both extremely jealous and extraordinarily happy for you." she gives you a toothy smile, poking at your shoulder with both index fingers. "seriously. you deserve it all." 

you carry this thought with you as you ride in one of the company's chartered cars, traversing through the roads to their main studio, the biggest one in the city. there were only 4 throughout the metro area, but this one, a gigantic penthouse isolated at the top of a 275-foot tall apartment complex, had the most space and atmosphere of them all. you remember coming here to take your picture for the all-access card mike had given you. he was so happy to gift it to you a few months ago, finally getting through after bugging the execs to give him another card with unhindered access for months. 

"finally got the hard copy, just for you. got your name on it and everything," he'd smiled so wide, clipping it on one of his merch lanyards; white with black, serif text that read, "chase cox world domination". you'd fallen over in laughter, kissing at his cheeks while thanking him between giggles. 

you hadn't been here many times over the last three months, but when you were, you were able to slip through every door and security checkpoint without hassle. people knew who you were and attended to you, telling you exactly where mike was in the studio or offering to get you any refreshments or sundries you were after. you'd always declined, extending extreme gratitude to everyone servicing you, but today, you ask for a bottle of fancy artesian water. you deserve it. 

the few times you'd been here before were usually half-hours after mike had finished a scene, helping him pack up to head home for the day, but this time, you'd come early, wanting to catch a glimpse of him at work. 

you take the elevator to the top, stepping out into the concrete foyer of the industrial workspace. the gray of the material was accented with bright art and other pops of color in furniture and decor that conveyed the new age principles and ideology of the production company. it made sense why the videos were so honored, with the people behind them being young and progressive and on the right side of history (and design). 

there are eight rooms on the floor; three for shooting, three for aesthetics and dressing, one for an office, and one for storage. there were bathrooms in three of them and two down the main hallway that opened into the formal living room/break area and kitchen. you'd been told that mike was in the hunger room; this one set up for messier, more bodily fluid oriented videos, as opposed to the softer passion and kinkier desire shooting rooms. 

the rooms are all hidden behind frosted, sliding glass doors with the titles printed onto placards affixed next to them. you find hunger after walking a little, and gently pull on the handle. the door slides open soundlessly, and you're closing it behind you as you step inside, your eyes locked on the scene in front of you. 

mike and his partner are arranged on a leather couch in a living room set, his hips shoving into her in this perceptive way. he's reading her body language and reacting accordingly, and you can see why she's moaning so genuinely, feet dangling by the ankle over mike's shoulders. the couch is already drenched in liquid, wet and puddled under the girl's ass.

he grabs for the back of the couch to go deeper, leaning down to press kisses on her lips as the cameraman focuses in on where they're connected. the sound is so lewd, and it makes you press your thighs together as you watch alongside the small production crew. 

"feel good? happy to have a friend like me? someone who knows you, knows your body? someone who makes you feel better and come harder than your stupid fucking boyfriend?" his partner mewls out a broken, exasperated, "y-yyesssss" between gritted teeth as her moans get higher and higher pitched. suddenly, she's reaching at mike's back to scratch at his skin, screaming out as mike leans off to the side of her, massaging his fingertips over her clit and cooing, "yeah, just let go. know he's never made you feel like this, wasting this perfect pussy..."

his partner squirts against the camera with a screech, loud and raw but pretty. the lens is covered in a heavy spray of bodily fluid as she arches her back and grinds her mound into mike's hand, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. "that's fucking it," he encourages, speaking in her ear as he looks down at the mess in his peripherals and rides her through it. "just the way you deserve." you swear he locks eyes with you when he says it, and he only confirms it with the small smirk he throws your way, managing to fit it into the ending of the shot. his eyes twinkle through the aftercare segment, and he talks with his spent coworker, calling, "she just wants to sit for a second" to a PA with a chuckle. 

"okay, ten minute break and then we're shooting the come shot."

her legs slowly straighten out as mike throws the towel he's handed around his waist and slides his feet into the slippers stored behind the couch. he grabs a water from an outstretched hand as he makes his way over to you, smelling like sweat and sex and glistening with this nearly angelic post-fuck glow. it's like he's coming down from the gates of porn heaven.

"hi, my love," he muses, pulling you into a tight hug before saying, "how much did you see?" 

"like right before the squirting. it's very..." you're not sure what to say, really. maybe, just maybe, you need to change your underwear, but you don't want to be weird about it. you're sure he's heard weird, and beyond weird, but you want to maintain composure in front of his coworkers. you give him a tight smile, resting your hand on his pulsing bicep. "just makes me think things." 

"maybe we should add 'thought-provoking' to the list of labels for the company," he jokes, taking a sip of water while winking at you. "you're a genius, baby." 

you're giggling along with him, opening your mouth to continue the joke when two tanned arms reach from behind him to cross in an X over his chest. a head peeks from behind him, and she's immediately unmistakable to you. 

it's his current scene partner, who is also the girl from the video you watched earlier today. the one eager for his come, whining for him to make a mess of her face while letting him beat his dick on her tongue. you think back to all of the videos you've seen her in where she's with mike. she always comes the hardest working with him, and vice versa. something about it makes you sick. 

she's smiling at his cheek, eyes focused on his as he turns his glance towards her. her arms get tighter around him and you notice how she gets closer, pressing her front tighter against his back. "caught your breath?" 

"you know i always do," she brags, licking at her canines as her stare moves to you, looking you up and down with snarky scrutiny. "casting department's starting to slack." 

you shrink, feeling so small that you don't feel like you're interrupting something anymore. you might as well just not be there, and you're about to sink into pitiful posture when mike snarls, "hey, watch yourself. y/n, this is amelie, and li, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i told you about her." the sound of mike saying the nickname turns to bile in your throat, searing you on the way down and keeping you from speaking.

amelie gives you a blank expression now, standing beside mike with no qualms at being fully naked in front of a stranger. "y/n, y/n...not ringing any bells," she places her hands on her hips, tossing her dark, sex-tousled hair over her collarbones. "sorry."

you don't know why you're daunted by her; you're usually daunted by no one, and able to speak up for yourself when people are acting catty. this time, you can't help but be unnerved by her perfection, or how close she is to it. perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body, perfect boobs...

"i'm kidding," amelie's smooth, beguiling voice rips you from your thoughts, and you're gasping for something to say when she continues, "he's shown me endless pictures, and knows that i think you're gorgeous." her tone picks up the tiniest bit as she quips, "my eyes are up here, by the way." she's throwing you off, frustrating you in so many ways and you're just stammering with mike looking between the two of you.

"i'm sorry---"

"it's really fine. millions of people have seen them, everyone's always thirsty for more of me and chase cox..." she drags the end of her sentence out as she runs the tips of her long, cherry red nails along the back of mike's neck, ending in a laugh.

"'mike schmidt' isn't a porn name, we already had this conversation." 

"neither is chase cox, if we're being real," they launch into a chitchat, and you once again feel like you're intruding. there's no denying that they have insane chemistry, but it still rips at you;  you're aware of them having an entire moment in front of you, complete with the body language and glances and suddenly, you don't care about their connection. mike was your boyfriend, and it didn't matter what she said or did. they'd made so many videos together, yet, every night he came home to you, and not her. 

"yeah, well you're still moaning chase when you come," 

"because i can't dox you like that--"

you clear your throat noisily, gaining their attention with an eyeroll, and amelie observes you and your curled lip with recognition of your game. she didn't expect you to have bite, not with the way you look now. you're not the assertive, 'take-no-shit' girl from the pictures mike showed her. she thinks you're merely a hint of that, and that it completely evaporates when someone lights a fire under your ass, but maybe she's wrong for once. "watched a bunch of your stuff. it was really good, you're talented." 

"thanks," her gratitude is dry and bitchy, and you're about to say more when a PA calls a two minute warning and she squints her eyes into slits at you. "hope you're ready to see a lot more of me." she uses mike's shoulder to pivot with a sly smirk, sauntering back to the now wiped down leather couch, ripples coursing through her ass with every step. 

you look to mike with astonishment, wondering where he's been during this whole thing, and who that girl is, and if she's genuine bad news or simply one of those callous girls that guys love to chase.

mike had defended you, sure, but he'd gotten captured too. what if she's indoctrinating him some--

"she's nice," you blurt, stopping yourself from the overthinking you'd resorted to. you needed to be nice to yourself. you deserved this, deserved everything you had with mike. nothing was taking that away from you, and you could feel secure in that. mike would reassure you.

he does, saying, "isn't she?" with a snicker. "don't worry about her, okay? it's her personality, and she does everyone like that, so she's not just targeting you. ignore her, and if you don't like the small jokes either, i can tell her to knock it off. whatever you want. also, lunch after i wrap?" 

you nod your head, about to say something again when the PA announces that it's time for shooting to start back up. mike gives you a fat kiss on the lips as he drops his towel into a director's chair next to you, and makes his way back over to amelie folded on the couch. her knees are by her chin at a filthy angle, and she's using a squeeze bottle with a tapered tip to squeeze shiny lube all over her clit and both holes. 

mike watches, rubbing his hand all through it to spread it around. amelie bites at her lip as he does, staring up at him with eyes that are filled with unadulterated lust, and he uses the leftover lube on his dick, stroking the slippery surface as he gets harder and harder in his hand. 

the director asks them if they're ready, and when they both answer yes, she says, "okay, we're gonna go insertion, sink in, wait five for the kiss, and go from there. alright...rolling...action." 

amelie flicks her eyes to you in a leer, winking at you like mike did earlier as he plunges into her sopping wet walls. her head falls back against the couch while she outstares you, open-mouthed moans transitioning into "cockdrunk" laughs that you know are calculated.  

you begin to chug your bottle of water, deliberately ogling her in return. you were down with playing a game for two, but not for long. 

lord. the hell i've gone through to get this up /: lmao i need to go to bed. things are about to heat up, so prepare yourselves for what's next to come!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf

[cupidop]

You are mine.

Muzan Kibutsuji KNY

----------------------------

TW: muzanxfemreader, vaginal teasing, pet names, oral mentioned, teasing, sorta nsfw? (I'm still new to this, I do appreciate tips)

| It takes place in The Entertainment District Arc. You are one of the entertainers, and as you make it home after a long shift, a man greets you on your balcony|

------------------------------------------------------

You heavily sigh as you are packing up your things, a few men pass you. "I've seen your performance, the Tokito house is lucky to have you." A man complimented you. "Why don't you come back to my place, I'm sure your pretty tired, I can surely relax you." Another asked. "Thank you gentlemen, I'm flattered, really, but I have a boyfriend and I'm not ready to give this job up." You smile. They'd frown and continue their walk. You hop off of where you perform and make your way to the house, but your shoulder brushes up against someone. A tall man with black curly hair. He seems to be wearing a suit with a fedora on. You quickly turn around to see no one there. "I thought-..I must be really tired." You continue your path. As a performer, you lived with other ladies, and the owner is in charge of all of your performances and what goes on in the house. The Oiran is like the queen of the house. You level up in the house depending on how refined your skills were. Koinatsu was your oiran. She was a kind person. As your all greeted by the ladies and you head in your room, you sit with a loud exhale. Your feet hurt. You sit infront a small mirror wiping makeup off, your true beauty reveals itself. The pins in your hair are taken out, and you change into something more comfy. It was hot outside, so clothing that was thin was perfect. You wrap around a yukata around your shaped body, the silk felt like heaven on your dainty skin.

"My, my, I never knew how elegant you are, even when you are just changing." A voice lingers into your room. The lights outside have disappeared, but your room was still bright. Your head turn to your balcony doors, they were open, and a man stands there. His tap tipped over his eyes, it was the same man your accidentally bumped into. You quickly stand up. "You cannot be here! Leave at once." You demand. "How rude, speaking to someone who has great power like that." His hat tips up revealing his face. He was pale with crimson eyes. You couldn't help but blush from the sight. He stepped closer and you step back. "Your ways of making men slobber over you really makes me aroused." His voice was deep, but formal. You quickly grab a pin from your dresser, holding it up as if it was a knife. The man frowned, he was gone in the blink of an eye and right in front of you gripping your wrist that held the pin. His eyes gazed into yours with a terrifying expression. "My dear, I don't think you know who I am, my name is Muzan Kibutsuji, the demon king." He'd growl. Your eyes widened in realization. You were only warned by your boyfriend about him. He is a deadly man who has killed thousands, no, millions of lives. You start to shake, this was it for you. "Look at you so helpless like a little animal who was finally caught by its predator." An evil smirk planted on his face. "It makes me feral." As he spoke, you couldn't help but form tears in your eyes, you wanted to break down on the floor.

A hand cups your cheek, but before you could react, his other hand pushes you to the ground, making him pin you. A small whimper leaves your mouth with a gasp, but you weren't the only one surprised. Muzan's breathing became slightly heavy, it seems you were turning him on. As his hand, that cups your cheek, travels down to your inner thigh. You slam your thrighs together, but something stops them. His thigh was between yours. "No no, my little bunny." He'd chuckle. His thigh caresses against yours, as his knee moves up to the main part of your panties. "Please, get off of me!" You beg. Muzan's eyes narrows at yours. His head leans in towards your ear as he whispers, "I don't think I will." His knee shuffles closer to your cunt, as it brushes up against your panties. A small squeak leaves your mouth. His head lifts and his lips gets closer to yours. You could feel his hot breath, it was, irresistible. His mouth passionately plants onto yours, yours eyes get bigger by the moment, but then more relaxed until they closed. He was such a good kisser, you feel your body sucumb to him. You knew it was wrong but you didn't want to stop.

His tounge slips into your mouth, a light moan from you rests on his lips. His knee backs away and his fingers taps the base of your panties. You can feel your cunt start to become wet. As he's fiercely kissing you, a finger slips into the panties, now touching your clit. You'd gasp as a arm wraps around his back. "Hush sweet doll, your friends will hear us." He'd moan into your mouth. Hearing your delightful whimpers makes him want you even more. As he rubs around your bud, the hand starts to slip the panty off, then makes it way back to your drenched cunt. His fingers dance around your vulva, before his lips leave yours, a trail of saliva connects to your mouth.

NOTE - Hello thank you for reading all of it, I am sorta new to this thing, I love to write/type books, even the silly parts 🤭. Anyways, I took great inspiration from someone named muzansfangs, YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK THEM OUT! I'm thinking of making a part two if maybe enough people recognize it?? (ART ISN'T MINE) ☆⌒(＞。≪)

[misfittoy15]

"Im glad we booked this room. We both needed a shower not in a dank theater basement." Dan says as he picks up his phone after toweling off his hair. "Dan? Did we ever post that video for the seriously imagine it thing?" Phil asks, checking his Twitter notifications and being swarmed with mentions. "Oh shit, you're right. Those nerds are going to go feral over this." As he gets the posts ready to go. Phil also gets everything ready for his own profiles, smiling as he says, "Do you mean... Pheral?" Dan rolls his eyes so hard he has to put his phone down for a second as he tries and fails not to laugh. "Shut up, you. Let's post at the same time. Which platform are you doing first?"

As everything gets posted they both put their phones down in anticipation for the flood of notifications and queue up a new Mario kart match. Part way into the second race of the grand prix, Phil glances at dan and decides to say something. "Are you seriously imagining it?" Dan's focus breaks and he runs into a banana peel on the track. "God damn it, phil! I was winning!" They both laugh as phil pulls ahead and dan gets his bearings back on the track. "Yeah, you WERE." They clutch their way through the rest of the grand prix with plenty of jabs and remarks that leave them both with smiles as the trophy scene plays.

"Okay, but are you?" Phil dramatically side eyes dan as he's scrolling furiously on his phone. Dan is silent for a moment while he continues looking for whatever it is that's got him for focused on his screen. Phil sighs and decides to let it go, and starts checking his own phone, skimming the insane amount of replies to their video. Their fans are being absolutely unhinged just as they expected.

Dan finally says a whispered "yes!" Right before some tinny fall out boy starts playing from his phone speakers. Phil looks at him quizzically and then realizes dan has found someone who is live streaming from When We Were Young Festival in Las Vegas. The two make eye contact and dan remains silent for a beat, before Phil raises an eyebrow.

"Phil.. do i seriously /need/ to imagine it?" He's surprised for a moment forgetting about the comment he made earlier and then he breaks into a laugh. "I mean, that's entirely up to you, isn't it, daniel?" Dan turns his phone a bit to show Phil the screen. "Okay but look, they're playing through the album and this is the last song before MCR comes out." The two watch the set together despite the terrible quality. "Recpetion must be terrible there." Phil remarks. "Gotta be. There's so many people in one spot. I'm kinda glad we didn't go." Phil casts as glance at dan, "you would be. Mister "don't talk to me" cross body bag. " "you and I both know we would get SO SWARMED. I'd rather just relax on our day off of tour." Fall out Boys performance finishes and it's the break before MCR.

Dan looks up and meets Phil's eye, lowering the volume on his phone and setting the device down. "You know Phil, earlier I asked if I had to imagine it. But I know I don't need to, now do i?" The intensity of his gaze makes Phil stammer a bit and struggle to form a response. "I, i , well, I um, suppose not, huh? We didn't end up going." Dan tilts his chin down and his gaze deepens, "you know that's not what I'm talking about, Philip." Dan leans closer to the man next to him and tugs on his shirt collar where it dips beneath his chin, "I've got you all to myself tonight. Let them imagine it all they want." The first note of My Chemical Romance's set plays as their lips touch. Once, then twice.

"Now, let's watch the rest of this stream until the signal fails." Dan nestles into the seat and picks up his phone, facing it toward Phil and increasing the volume again. Phil adjusts too and smirks when he notices the pride flag they filmed with tossed over the back of the couch they just kissed on.

[seiya-starsniper]

Another Corintheus prompt for you! Enjoy <3

A is tied to an altar as a sacrifice to demon!B. More than taking their life, B is interested in taking their body.

Okay so, I had a goal in mind to keep all my birthday celebration prompt fills around 1.2k words and then....and then. This one happened 🤣🤣🤣

I'm such a sucker for human sacrifice AUs though, really I shouldn't be surprised this got to 3.1k words!

Anyways, hope you enjoy friend, thanks for the prompt! 💖

[AO3 Link Here]

-----------------------------------------------

Dream had always known that his life was not his own. He was born solely to die, to be sacrificed, so that the rest of his village may live.

He’s not bitter about it — not entirely. It meant that he could do as he pleased, that he had no responsibilities other than to keep his purity intact. Instead of toiling on the fields or being forced to learn a trade, he could simply shut himself inside and read to his heart’s content. It was lonely sometimes, having nothing but books and the occasional visit from his siblings for company. But anything was better than having to face the pitying looks of the other villagers whenever he took a rare walk into town. 

On the day he’s set to be sacrificed, Dream goes easily, dressed in white, his long black hair held back in an elegant braid. Dream had not been allowed to cut it his entire life — another thing the villagers insisted he needed to keep pure for the demon to work their magic. Dream is not entirely sure he believes that his hair has anything to do with protection magic, but he’d followed directions anyway. It was one less thing to worry about in the grand scheme of things. 

His mother cries, of course, but his father does not. He merely reminds him of his duty, and claps him on the shoulder. His siblings were not allowed to be at the summoning ceremony, so they had all given him their goodbyes the night before.

The priests sit him at the center of the oblong marble altar, and because Dream is so pliant they do not bind him to it. The altar is cool beneath his thighs as Dream sits upon it, his legs just dangling over the edge. The sacrificial robe is wound tight around him, but it is so thin Dream still shivers in the cold temperature of the sacrificial room. He wishes they had dressed him in warmer garments. What a silly thing to be concerned about in his last moments of life. 

When they are satisfied with his placement, the priests perform the summoning ceremony, then leave as soon as the energy in the air begins to change. Dream debates whether he wants to close his eyes or face the horror of his death head on. He ultimately decides to face his fate with eyes wide open. It isn’t long before the smell of brimstone and fire fills his nostrils and soon the candles flicker rapidly as blackened smoke begins to fill the room. 

When Dream comes face to face with the monster that means to kill him, he’s struck by how beautiful the creature is. The demon wears the skin of a man, and a well dressed one at that. He’s tall and clean shaven, with straw-blond hair that is cropped in a modern manner that Dream has only seen on visitors who’d passed through his village on their way to the city. The suit he wears is modern too, white and sleek and well-fitting. Atop his face sits a pair of glasses, with lenses so dark they obscure his eyes entirely. 

When his gaze lands on Dream, his lips pull back into a menacing, almost feral looking smile. Dream feels very much like the sacrifice he is at this moment, a helpless lamb laid out to be feasted upon by a hungry lion — a lion who is very much stalking towards his trapped prey. He seems to cross the room in just a few wide strides, and then he is face to face with Dream. 

“Well, well, well,” the demon says, raking his gaze down Dream's flimsily covered body. “Aren’t you just the prettiest sacrifice I’ve seen in the last century.”

Dream cannot help but stare himself. The demon is even more beautiful up close, and still manages to stand a head taller than him, even with Dream propped on the table. He leans down after a moment, as if to whisper a secret into Dream's ear. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the demon purrs. Dream shudders as the demon’s tongue flicks out to lick at the shell of his ear. He remembers how his mother had told him that demons were lustful creatures, that they were known to ravish their victims while they killed them, some even going so far as to desecrate the corpses. She had never mentioned that the demons themselves would inspire lust in a human though. But perhaps this situation was just unique to Dream. 

“I am Dream,” Dream answers, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. The demon's mouth is still close to his ear, so Dream clearly hears the sharp intake of breath, followed shortly by a chuckle full of warm breath that causes Dream’s entire body to jolt. It's cold in the summoning room, but this demon is warm, and Dream is struck by a sudden desire to touch, to test and see for himself just how hot this creature’s temperature runs. 

“Yes, you are a dream indeed,” the demon tells him, pressing one final kiss to Dream's ear before he steps back to take in the look of Dream once more. Even though Dream cannot see his eyes, the rest of the demon’s expression is clear. He's leering and Dream cannot help but feel self conscious as the demon's gaze sweeps hungrily all over his body. Dream’s robe is thin and short, barely long enough to cover the tops of his knees. He feels as though he may as well be naked already. 

“Oh we're going to have so much fun, little Dream,” the demon says with a grin, before he takes a dagger with a long, straight blade out from within his suit jacket. It gleans in the lowlight of the candle and Dream shudders when he sees it. He knows the next part of the ritual well. The protection ritual for the village requires demon magic and human blood. Dream had been chosen because he’d been born on the night of a lunar eclipse. He doesn’t think it necessarily makes his blood any more magical, but the village had always sent sacrifices born on the eclipse, and the protection had always held, so here he was. 

As the demon approaches him, Dream’s breath hitches in both anticipation and dread. He decides to bare his throat to the demon, giving him easy access to the vein he’d heard produces the most blood. He’d read too that a cut to the throat was the quickest way to death. Perhaps if he makes it easy for the demon, his death will be quick and mostly painless. 

He tries not to think of what the demon will do with his body once Dream is long gone. 

“I am ready,” Dream declares, hoping he doesn’t look too frightened. “Take all the blood you need from me for the ritual.”

“Oh aren’t you lovely,” the demon replies, running the flat of the blade along Dream’s neck. Dream stills his breathing entirely, afraid to move. Then, suddenly the blade is gone.

“But I don’t need blood from here,” the demon says, grabbing Dream by the wrist. “This will do just fine,” he adds, right before he cuts a straight line across Dream’s palm.

Dream inhales sharply and tries to jerk his arm back as the pain of the cut hits him, but the demon is stronger than him, and so his arm remains immobile. Blood flows freely down his hand and onto the altar, and then suddenly there is a bowl beneath his wrist, gathering the liquid. When it is filled to the brim, the demon begins to chant in a language that Dream does not know. He finally releases Dream’s wrist, and Dream presses the sleeve of the robe to his still injured hand, not knowing why he’s even trying to stop the bleeding. 

All at once the room is shrouded in a bright light, and then the chanting from the demon stops when it disappears. Dream looks around and sees that the summoning room is now bathed in a scarlet glow, a light he is intimately familiar with. It is the magic of the barrier that sits over his village, and Dream knows right away that the ritual has been successful.

“That’s it?” Dream asks, incredulous. All that magic for so little blood? There is still more seeping into the sleeve of his robe. 

“That’s it,” the demon replies with a sly grin, then adds, “I never needed a whole human body to perform the protection ritual, just a little bit of blood. Not my fault your people misunderstood my instructions.”  

“Then where have the other sacrifices gone?” Dream asks. Could he still walk out of this alive? Start over, go home, could he still—?

“Oh I still killed them,” the demon laughs as he wipes his blade down with a cloth before putting it back in his jacket. “But that was mostly for fun.”

“You,” Dream gasps, and for the first that is truly afraid. “Is that what you plan to do to me?” If it was, why pretend to let Dream live at all? Were his mother’s stories true then? Was the demon going to merely play with him and then kill him? Did his sacrifice mean nothing at all?

“Well, that depends,” the demon says, shocking Dream out of his terrifying thoughts. 

“On what?” Dream all but demands. 

“On whether you’d prefer to die, or ride my cock,” the demon tells him bluntly, the leer now returning to his face. “And if you’re especially good at it, I could make you immortal too. Would you like that sweetheart?” he asks, leaning in close and licking his lips, once again reminding Dream of a predator. “How would you like to be a demon’s cock warmer until the end of time?”

“I—” Dream swallows as a litany of filthy images rush through his mind. He'd been ordered to keep his body pure his entire life for the purposes of the ritual, but his mind was an entirely different story. He'd consumed plenty of erotic literature, mainly snuck in to him by his sibling Desire, and so he wasn’t naive to what the demon was offering him. But everything he’d read had been about pleasure between humans. Would it be different between a human and a demon? What if the demon didn’t even have the same anatomy as a human’s? Would it hurt more than—

“Chop chop, honey,” the demon says, snapping his fingers in Dream’s face, breaking the man out of his reverie. “Fuck or die, what’s it going to be?”

Dream swallows hard, then makes his decision. He wants to live, he realizes. Desperately so. He hasn't lived for himself his entire life and he — he wants to decide something for himself, for once. He drops his sacrificial robe, lets the cloth fall just past his shoulders, exposing his neck and chest to the cold air. The demon’s tongue darts out to swipe at his top lip once more, and he looks even hungrier now. 

“Take it all off,” the demon commands. Dream does, tossing the bloodied robe to the floor. Before he can look up at the demon once more, he finds himself suddenly pushed onto his back on the cold marble, the demon's entire body now pressing down on top of him. He claims Dream’s mouth in a hungry kiss, and Dream moans at just how warm the creature feels on top of him. 

“You can call me Corinthian,” the demon tells him right before he bites down on Dream’s collarbone. “I’d be very pleased to hear you to scream it as many times as you like while I’m fucking you.”

Before Dream can reply, the demon brings his injured palm to his lips, licking at the open wound. Dream gasps as his blood smears across the Corinthian’s face, making him look even more like a wild beast. Dream belatedly realizes the action has stopped the pain in his hand, and when the blond drops it, Dream realizes the wound has closed.

“How—” Dream starts to ask, but his lips are claimed once more by the demon’s mouth. Dream thinks there must be something wrong with him to find it so arousing that he’s kissing a creature whose mouth is filled with his own blood. When the Corinthian’s tongue pushes for entry, Dream’s lips part easily, and the taste of his own blood mixed with the demon’s saliva makes him dizzy. 

Dream writhes eagerly beneath the Corinthian body, the roughness of the man’s clothing an exquisite friction against his naked skin. Then suddenly, the clothing seems to melt off all at once from the demon’s body, leaving him bare. Dream gasps as he feels the demon’s cock, his very human shaped cock, press eagerly into his thigh.

“Clever trick, right?” the Corinthian chuckles into his mouth. “Next time, I’ll let you pull them off me yourself.” 

“You—ah,ah,” Dream moans as the Corinthian wraps a hand around his cock. “You seem to be a creature of many talents,” he finishes, panting as the demon strokes and teases him. 

“If you were impressed by that,” the blond grins, “then you’ll really like this.” The Corinthian mutters something under his breath, and suddenly the hand around Dream’s cock is wet. Dream curses.

“Like that, sweetheart?” the Corinthian croons, knowing full well what the answer will be. 

“Yes,” Dream moans, arching his back and thrusting his hips eagerly into the demon’s hand. “Please—gods—I—”

“Yeah?” the Corinthian replies, his smirk wicked as his hand stops moving, right before it leaves Dream’s cock completely. Dream whines and thrusts his hips upwards, trying and failing to regain that delicious friction.

“Why—” he starts but then the Corinthian shushes him with a finger on his lips.

“We’re just getting started, little Dream,” is all the warning Dream gets from the demon before he feels a finger press insistently at his entrance. 

Dream tries to wriggle himself away from the foreign sensation, but the Corinthian uses his free arm to pin his hips down.

“Ah, ah,” the Corinthian chides him gently. “There’s nowhere for you to go darling.”

“It feels weird,” Dream grumbles.

“It won’t for long,” the Corinthian promises.

He’s right. The Corinthian eventually gets one finger inside him, and it doesn’t take him long to find the bundle of nerves Dream had only previously read about in stories. The pleasure that washes over him is indescribable. Dream now knows why so many have chased the pleasures of sex at great personal cost; anything that felt this good could easily become an addiction. 

The Corinthian teases Dream’s hole the same way that he did his cock, bringing him right to the precipice of pleasure and stopping just short of Dream’s release. He does it again with a second finger, and by the third finger, Dream thinks the demon means to torture him forever like this, witholding Dream’s pleasure just out reach until the end of time. The Corinthian’s fingers suddenly withdraw all at once from inside him, and then the demon is nudging Dream up into a sitting position. It’s at that moment that Dream remembers the Corinthian had wanted him to perform a certain task. 

“Up you go, sweetheart,” the Corinthian says, moving to lie down on the same spot where Dream had previously been. Dream climbs into the demon’s lap and positions himself right at the tip, breathing slowly and deeply, before he starts to nudge the Corinthian’s cock inside him. 

The stretch burns, and Dream feels tears prickle at the corner of his eyes as his body struggles to adjust to something larger than three fingers inside of him. Every inch that breaches inside him makes Dream feel as though all the air has left his body. He feels so full, so hot, so overwhelmed, that he doesn’t know what to do, other than push through the discomfort. He’d made his choice at the beginning of this. He’d read in his books that this was supposed to hurt at first. He can do this. He will do this. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dream’s hips finally go flush against the Corinthian’s, and he exhales sharply as he tries to adjust himself. The Corinthian barely gives him a moment to breathe, before he thrusts up without warning into Dream. 

Dream screams and sees stars flash behind his eyes. The Corinthian sets a brutal rhythm beneath him, and Dream cannot do much at first besides take it and brace himself on the demon’s chest. The discomfort soon gives way to pleasure, and it isn’t long before Dream finds himself moving in time with the Corinthian thrusts, seeking his own pleasure on the demon’s cock. 

“Fuck you’re so tight, little Dream,” the Corinthian pants as he speeds up his pace beneath him. “Oh, yes, I’m absolutely keeping you.”

Dream yelps as the demon hits that bundle of nerves inside him. He's here again, at the precipice of pleasure, he can feel it. Dream lifts his hips up slightly higher than before and then slams them down forcefully, drawing a guttural moan from the creature beneath him.

“Corinthian,” Dream moans as the demon's cock hits that sensitive spot again. He moves his hips faster, desperately trying to hit that spot as many times as he can manage. “Corinthian!"

“Touch yourself,” the Corinthian commands, sounding just as out of breath as Dream feels, “and tell me again who you belong to.”

“You!” Dream cries, placing a hand on his cock and stroking himself desperately. “Corinthian, I am yours I'm—!” 

Dream screams as his orgasm rips through him, his cock spilling between their bodies. The Corinthian growls and then Dream is suddenly on his back once more, the marble no longer cool but hot against his back as the demon thrusts greedily inside him. Dream cannot do anything but helplessly whine and clutch at the Corinthian’s shoulders, the pleasure soon giving way to an overstimulated pain. 

The Corinthian roars as he comes inside Dream, his come wet and hot as it fills his insides. Between one blink and the next, Dream is no longer in the summoning room, but in a dimly lit bedroom, his back now pressed against silk soft sheets and pillows.

The Corinthian's cock is still inside him. And still hard.

“Welcome home, little Dream,” the demon croons into his neck. “Hope you're ready for round two.”

[bella-rose29]

episode 3 - Doubt Thou the Stars

major spoilers for the show and books, swearing, I go feral on multiple occasions, spent most of this simping for cam/lockwood and I'll apologise now for some of the things I've said (multiverse of George I'm blaming you for a couple)

I would just like to reiterate that this is not a proper analysis of the show, this is my immediate reactions to what happens in the show. barely anything constructive is actually said in here 👍

a ring is what we're looking at

Georgie I love you

hands (oh dear starting early)

hands again

"which you stole illegally" honey-

you have me in a chokehold lockwood

hehehe fairfax

"George, this... negativity, it's why I don't tell you things in advance" first of all I am weirdly obsessed with the way he says that, second of all I wanna give George a hug

hands

ok but who gave cam the right to look that good

"miss Kingston got her hair done special" George I love you

"straight into the office. that's a classy move"

omg I love lucy's jumper

his cheeky smile omg

hands

ring

"you lie like a politician" yeah bc he has to

you can do any job for me lockwood

hands and ring

absolutely we have a deal I'll do anything for you

hands (omg I need to stop)

they're children how did they get alcohol

bottle opener thingy scene

omg Georgie in his apron and gloves 😭

so sad we didn't get the "nice... towel" scene

barnes is so sinister sometimes

I love lockwood and george's friendship, just yelling at each other about cleaning

ooo green lighting when she's taking the keys

tut tut

"I visit my gran in Sidcup" "...sidcup is in London"

"you've got a real hard-on for him, haven't you" "well, if... you wanna put it like that"

"I'm practically a serf" aw lockwood honey

all I can think is the Traitors castle even though I know it's not the same

lockwood's so pretty

oh lord what the hell was that look lockwood don't lower your head with that intense gaze wtf

"apart from anything else, we've got much better flares" 😂

don't you just love it when someone who doesn't have any clue about your job tells you how to do your job

lots of smashing

he's fishing (where tf did he get a fishing rod from)

hands

his grin omg

oh crikey this boy needs sleep I can see his eye bags even though the lighting is dim and my room is bright

"What, and deny us all this... beautiful moment?" you're a beautiful moment- wait that doesn't make sense

his smile I am on the floor

aaa suspense I don't like it

omg we get to see George's Touch again I love that

ew cobwebs

hands

well that was silly

oh no

you can disrespect me anytime woah what is happening to me holy shit

EXTREME CLOSE UP

ewwww cobwebs

I could never be an agent I have arachnophobia

ok those special effects were awesome

"probably wanted to warn us not to go down there" *proceed to go down there*

Lockwood say what's on your mind

ok I get why Ali said that the monks were terrifying that chanting haunts me still

turn your torches off you'll see the ghosts better

ohh I don't like this

Lucy no

LUCY NO

LUCY NOOOOOO

aw the boys saved her

hands

"make a wish" I wish for you to marry me and we live happily ever after

slap

"my cheek hurts"

husband calls out pathetically for wife after waking up, she crawls over and he reaches desperately for her hand

"oi, where's his slap?" fair

hahaha the way they just drop to the floor

you look so silly in those goggles

lockwood's voice is doing Things to me

I love that you can see Ellie rethinking as Fairfax goes on

"we don't travel round with it, we're not insane" *while focused on Lucy*

"you're just a performer too, aren't you?" we love a masking king

MICRO-EXPRESSIONS!!! CAMERON CHAPMAN THE MAN YOU ARE

"She stole it again, Lockwood" yep

I love that you can sort of make out the flowers on her dress

oh christ that was scary

ew old man burning

hands

heavy breathing lockwood (I blame the multiverse of George chat for that)

"I'm working with maniacs" got room for another one?

why did Ellie think it would be a good idea to try and run straight through the middle

"Shut up!" their faces afterwards

kipps pls stop sounding so smug

dw I believe you lockwood

punch me like that wall pls

barnes looks so sad

omg he's being a protective dad

hands

ohhhhh lockwood in a proper suit 🪣 (bad timing for it I know)

"do you know my name?" George I love you

"that's a shame, she was a fool but... she really fitted in there actually" *lockwood nudges him* George I love you even more and I think we would be the bestest of friends

I love the lavender in the pockets of Penelope and Ellie

hands

omg Lucy's drawing! like she said her hobby was in the books!

hand + ring

*George casually pulls out stolen evidence*

I want lucy's jumper

the way lockwood's sat on the chair has me weak

"You belong here" *stares at her with heart eyes*

hehehe

hehehe

oh dear

why does he keep sprawling on the chair

I don't want to talk about the sound I just made at that one frame of lockwood

"She's good, and... she's finally starting to get me" aw Georgie I love you

"she's a lot tougher than you think" *thumps as Lucy passes out*

I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE SOUND I JUST MADE AT THE OTHER ONE FRAME OF LOCKWOOD (YOU ALL KNOW THE ONE) - "Luce?" shgisuhuigjd

seriously who gave him the right

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

If possible, may I request ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ for the maestro Antonio? Thank you! ^^

Moving at the speed of light writing lol

Rated Explicit | Warning: minor religious themes

To gaze upon the heavens, one must look up from the hells. That is how it feels as he lays upon his makeshift bed as you slowly lower your hips to meet his hips. Tonight they sneaked away from a party to be alone. The twinkle in your eyes, the way your eyes stayed locked on his, and your coy smirk spoke for you.

The way you lead him to the wine cellar, this romantic corner you have been planning for weeks presented to him, he thinks your excitement outdoes his.

“Tesoro,” You smile as you sit on his lap, “Are you sure?” His hands on your thighs and remaining there, gripping it even.

“Quite,” Your hands sliding up the dress shirt, “Unless you aren’t ready. Then I will stop—” The Violinist grabs both sides of your shoulder before pulling you down for a kiss, the kiss that leaves rocking forward on his lap to taste as much as him and he does with you. “Antonio.” The parting makes you feel like something, a piece of you was taken away.

“(Name).” Taking you once more. He sits up to allow you to take off his suit coat, then the shirt is ripped open from your need. Oh, it seems you are the one who is going to rip clothes off tonight. Then you are close to feral, biting his throat and around his collarbone, his chest free to grab and leave bite marks. He laughs as you toss off his shoes and pants.

“What?” Already you have a hand in his boxers.

“It is nothing but,” Lifting his hips to push down his boxers once more you toss his clothes to the floor. “I expected myself to be the… Eager one.”

You chuckle as you admire your prize, “Shall I behave disinterestedly?” His cock twitches as it becomes semi-hard, “Maybe just use you for a quicky?”

“Do not dare.” Now that is a voice you never heard.

You lick the side of his cock, it grows harder in your hand, “Hmm.” Humming against it as if you are considering his words. “Maybe if you behave.” Another long lick from the base to the tip.

His hair moves with his head as he throws his head back, a long groan from deep within his chest. His hands gripping the many-layered blankets on the floor. “(Name).”

You love how he says your name, like a prayer song from King David, you moan as you take him further in your mouth. It is bigger than you prepared for. You only can take so much, not like that stops you from taking more and making tears well up at the corner of your eyes. All of it is worth it to see Antonio not holding back his moans. Those are like music.

“More.” His hand is on your head petting your hair like one does to a pet.

Oh, you give more. You give everything to him tonight. Your body's for him to make sweet music with, he is your dance partner to perform a private show.

And it is only midway when you both are in the fog of pleasure and patience.

“I'm simply enjoying the view.” Grinning in a fashion that you know is not his own.

You sink further, the tendrils of his hair, like snakes slithering up and around your body. “Antonio,” He fears he is hurting, “To think I can draw the devil out of you.” You like this a lot, “Go on, there is nothing I can't handle.”

A challenge both demon and man want to see you hold up to.

“It's not every day I get to fuck someone so pretty.” You say as now he is completely inside of you, “And so big. God, you feel amazing.”

“As do you, mi tesoro.” His most treasured love, “A masterpiece none can compare.”

“Hm, keep talking and I must cum just from you talking.” Not like he going to let you but that idea is saved for another time. Right now he wants-- No, needs to ravish you. The dance you had him be your partner in was torturous, and though he stuck to his word to wait and he would not complain about it, he is grateful to be the one under you witnessing and moving along with you in this new dance you want with him. You are gleeful, charmed, and charming; you rather enjoy the duality he has between a man who wants to make love as a man and the demon that controls the tendrils of his hair. It does not feel like hair though like it usually does, it feels cold, hard, and smooth; everything but hair now.

“Yes, harder.” You command and he obeys by not only switching so he can gaze upon the angel he has captured for himself, but he also lifts your legs higher driving himself deep inside of your heat.

“(Name),” The one man who can say your name like a prayer, a confession of his latest sins, “You feel amazing.”

“Not bad yourself, love.” Out of breath, you both laugh, “A piece of me I longed for... I fear my heart is completely yours, maestro.”

[auxiliarydetective]

Felicity: Small, Emotional, Electric

This could've been out two to three days ago if only my WiFi wasn't being so mean - I currently have about a minute of WiFi every few minutes, so I'm using that and uploading while I can

WANTED

"Desert Fox" Felicity

Bounty to be determined

Once again, huge thanks to Alvita for the template for the poster!

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They call you Cry Baby, Cry Baby But you don't even care Tears fall to the ground You'll just let them drown

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Normally, I'd put two small fics in an intro post, but the "small intro fic" accidentally turned into 4.5K words, so you can find the full fic on AO3 here!

-

Whereas Zoro was seemingly unbothered by the clowns manhandling him and dragging him to whatever the “green room” may be, Nami was actively struggling like a feral cat, trying to break free. If only she had claws, she would tear them to shreds. Buggy’s lair was bigger than she had thought, probably built into whatever remained of the town he had destroyed. The big top was only a small part of it. Finally, they entered a room, or rather a dark green tent, filled with equipment, crates and costumes. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, along with various crinolines and ropes. A couple of vanity mirrors lined by lightbulbs were the only useable pieces of furniture in it. Nami saw Zoro jolt forwards in front of her, but four clowns worked together to pin him back down. They finally succeeded in pressing him against a large wooden disk with straps, one usually used in knife throwing acts. Leaning against a supporting beam were their belongings: Zoro’s swords, Nami’s staff and navigation gear. Nami, too, gave another struggle, but when she saw what was hiding in the corner of the room, she froze in terror.

Behind a wooden machine of which she didn’t even want to know what it was for stood a cage with metal bars and elaborate wooden décor. Inside the cage, however – that was what terrified Nami the most. Inside the cage sat a little girl, maybe five or six years old, with a canine nose, incredibly large furry ears atop her head and a fluffy tail emerging from her lower back. She was wearing a glittering leotard lined with fur that managed to miss all three shades of sandy blonde present in her hair, tail, and ears in an almost infuriating way, and was watching the happenings in the room through large brown eyes.

Nami didn’t even pay attention to how she was being handled as her gaze was locked on the little girl. It was only when she was lifted off the ground and forced into an oversized birdcage that she tried to fight back again. She almost succeeded, too, but the woman gripping her was incredibly strong.

“Look, kitty, now you’ve got company!” she announced without looking at the little girl. “Don’t we take good care of you, making sure you’re not alone even if you got stage fright?”

As two clowns were busy tying Zoro to his dartboard and the woman wrestled Nami into her cage, another man stayed behind, with messy scarlet hair and two-toned makeup, wearing a striped leotard and a belt with a battle-axe.

“You still aren’t eating,” he remarked in a voice as sweet as acid. “You know you’ve gotta eat. Uncle Buggy was already mad you refused to perform, so what’s he gonna say if he finds out you’re not eating either? You gotta get your strength up if you wanna put on a pretty show, tiny dancer.”

The man picked up a bowl of presumably oatmeal with a spoon in it from the floor in front of the cage. Immediately, the little girl crawled further to the back of her tiny prison, pouting.

“Afraid it’s poisoned?” the woman asked without turning away from Nami’s birdcage.

She was now busy securing a padlock to it, whereas her fellow freaks were done with their work and left. Zoro was bound tightly by the wrists with thick ropes that almost cut into his skin, and whereas he had looked fully unbothered before, he was now visibly annoyed.

The man in the striped leotard stuck a finger into the oatmeal and scooped some of it into his mouth, humming in exaggerated delight.

“Delicious! Come on, have some!”

He almost shoved the spoon into the girl’s face, causing her to retract it as far as possible. She pressed her lips shut in protest and panic, only getting worse the longer the spoon whirled around beneath the dark tip of her nose. Slowly but surely, the lights in the room started flickering, lightbulbs and fairy lights tremoring just like the girl was.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” the man cooed. “Come on, who’s a good kitty?!”

“It’s clearly a fox,” Zoro growled, causing the man to pause with the spoon less than an inch from the girl’s mouth as he looked back at him in annoyance. “And if you don’t leave her alone, I’m gonna-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before the little girl grabbed the man’s arm and yanked it aside, at the same time lunging forwards. A loud crackling sound cut through the air and one of the lights blew out as her hand made contact and the man collapsed. The bowl, however, landed safely in the girl’s clawed hand and she placed it back down, keeping the spoon in her lap.

The muscular woman gave an exasperated sigh and shoved the keys to the padlock into her pocket before turning around to the girl.

“Now, now, don’t act out like that,” she said in a low, manipulative tone. “You don’t do that to your family. You belong here, with us! We’re freaks, just like you!”

“She’s not a freak!” Nami blurted out. “She’s just a little girl! Why are you doing this to her?! Let her go!”

The woman scoffed. “Oh, she’s much more than that. She’s a monster and she’s not as little as you think. Let’s see how long it takes for your captain to break, maybe you’ll get to spend a lot of time with her.”

She grabbed her crewmate and threw him over her shoulder to carry him outside. Right before she was through the doorway, she turned around again.

“Besides, it was her choice to run away and go to sea. Wasn’t it, kitty?”

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Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene - let me know if you'd like to be added!

[recycledraccoon]

The Batkids, all seriousness aside from the reveal, do think this is absolutely hilarious. Like, almost all of THEM have gotten surprise siblings or a sibling returned from the dead and now it's Bruce's turn.

Plus Danny and kids being openly suspicious of this billionaire?? *chefs kiss*

Most of the siblings are eagerly watching but trying SO HARD to not overwhelm Bruce's long lost little brother and his kids. It's bad enough that Damian has got off to such a bad start with the new cousins. They all meet in the hallways now and it's like two semi-feral cats (Dan and Damien) and one mischievous ferret (Ellie) having a stand off.

Dan and Damien: *locked gazes and raised hackles*

Ellie: *trying to decided which BatBurger would be the best option to stage an after school brawl behind*

Dick, in the distance: "I have the sudden premonition that I should check in on Damien today."

Steph, also in the distance: "Something's happening. I don't know what but I want to be there."

MEANWHILE

Danny, on the phone with Tucker and Sam: "He has a creepy lair in his basement I just KNOW IT."

Batman, lurking: *sweats*

Red Robin, watching Batman Lurk™️: *trying not to laugh*

Duke has only met Danny so far as Signal, but former Teen Hero Danny Fenton spots him and is SO intent on giving this young hero high calorie snacks or even a damn gatorade. If he sees him he will sprint into the closest store if he has to. Duke has a large collection of random post-it notes or wrappers/bottles with affirmations and gratitude Danny wrote. (It goes with other similarly sentimental gifts from Gotham citizens).

Danny hasn't MET Cass personally, but he has taken the kids to a ballet performance once with Jazz when she visited as "cultural enrichment". Surprisingly, Dan liked it more than anyone thought he would. Ballet is incredibly physically demanding, and he can see the beauty in that in their movements.

Jason tho. Jason sees Danny eye sad-wet cat Brucie Wayne with deep suspicion and immediately pushes his way into the Fenton's lives.

Jason LOVES Uncle Danny. Both because it gets Bruce's panties in an absolute twist and because something about the Fenton family just clicks with him. (Danny has absolutely clocked Jason as having returned from the dead. He's not a halfa or a ghost, but he has died and returned from the dead. Probably some type of Revenant? Danny's not sure when or how to broach the topic as they don't know each other well enough yet to our themselves, but Jason being around the family in the meantime will be good for him. Plus the kiddos love'm.)

Bruce is struggling to get his emotional constipation under control long enough to establish a non-hostile or unintentionally-creepy-billionaire relationship again with his baby brother.

Meanwhile Jason is already on the couch playing games with Ellie and Dan. He's already ordered himself a "I'm Someone's Favorite Nephew" mug which he absolutely drinks from at the Manor almost exclusively while he's there. Alfred allows this, given Jason got Danny to agree to meet him.

Jason will happily give Bruce the middle finger but he loves Alfred fiercely. It takes a bit but eventually Danny agrees to meet him. Jason takes Ellie and Dan out for the day to terrorize Gotham, and leaves the two older men to talk.

Danny has a long talk with Alfred, who absolutely has tried so so hard not to cry during all this, but absolutely does eventually. He must have felt so guilty for so long, his beloved friends Thomas and Martha gone, and their youngest son Daniel stolen and he had been unable to do anything but hold Young Master Bruce in both their grief. And yet here he is, a kind father to two beautiful children, telling him he's happy and grew up with a family who, despite a weird, bumpy road, loves him and his kids so so much. Danny doesn't have a photo album available right now, but he and Alfred set a date for Alfred to come back and have dinner to meet both Dan and Ellie, and to look at photo albums together, Fenton and Wayne both.

Alfred reminds Danny of Clockwork just a bit, with his impeccable timing and knowledge/intuition.

Slowly as Danny gets to know Alfred (and Jason, despite how he rags on Bruce, or how Damien seems to have become Dan and Ellie's highschool nemesis, which makes Danny think fondly of fighting-as-bonding in the Infinite Realms) he warms enough to agree, finally, to have dinner at the Manor with the family so Alfred can host, back in his environment as the impeccable Wayne family Butler.

This also means of course that Danny has also agreed to meet and talk with Bruce. (Creepy Billionaire...but also a name that long since lingered in the back of his head and heart though he didn't know why. A photo of a little boy and his big brother that pulls at those same heart strings.)

....

....

....

.....

I

....

I had another 11pm brain worm.

Enjoy

-x-x-

Daniel Wayne, the younger toddler brother of Bruce Wayne and the son of Martha and Thomas Wayne had been kidnapped the night their parents were murdered.

Daniel had been snagged the moment their killer heard people headed to the alley and Bruce in his state of shock didn't realize it until it was far to late and could only scream in horror (from everything) as his baby brother is crying his name. (If you wanna make it even more heart wrenching, make it Danny's first time being able to say Bruce's name right and/or Bruce had said some mean things to Danny earlier after he accidentally broke something of Bruce's, something like 'I wish youd go away' or 'I never wanted a brother, you're such a bother!')

Bruce is being held by Alfred as some police officers are chasing down the Wayne's parents killer while some stay behind to see if they could do something.

Minutes turn to hours and as they wait, praying the police at least found Danny, Bruce is ridden with guilt. From his parents death to allowing his brother to be kidnapped.

Eventually the police return to give Alfred and Bruce the news. And it's not good.

The killer escaped and Danny was nowhere to be found.

And it would take many years before he would be found.

-x-x-

Bruce gets a call from Damian during school hours one day. When he answers he is greeted with Damian demanding him to get to the school and explain himself.

Confused Bruce asks what does he mean and Damian responds with

"The two new students in class today are the spitting images of you and I father! Either they are poorly created clones or you have more hidden blood children!"

-x-x-

Meanwhile the very students being discussed are calling up someone too

"Ellie? Dan? What's wrong? You better not have made too much chaos already, I just paid for the uniforms for that place."

"DAD! I THINK ANOTHER ONE OF THE FRUITLOOPS FAILED CLONES SOMEHOW SURVIVED!"

"What?"

[dameronscopilot]

Dads best friend Santi 🥵 just. Teasing you throughout dinner. In my household tea is a really big thing after dinner so like serving tea and the eye contact while handing him his cup and trying not to spill it everywhere? Trembling hands? Setting up the guest room for him and he walks in? Midnight hour makeout session? 🫢

(hello my beloved i hope this tickles your fancy. also i went super overboard so ENJOY I GUESS??? i'm going to Hell)

Dad's Best Friend

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader

Surviving visits from your dad's best friend, Santiago Garcia, is nothing but a losing battle for your resolve.

Content: NSFW 18+, smut, age gap, forbidden relationship, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie (author does not recommend seducing your dad's bestie IRL please!!!!! mucho inappropriate, etc.)

Santiago's younger than your dad, but he's still older than you. And he's still your dad's best fucking friend. Despite those facts, all reasonable thoughts fly swiftly out the window any time he comes knocking for what's recently turned into regular visits.

(And sometimes, when you're a moaning, gasping mess pumping a slick, lubricated vibrator in and out of your cunt the morning before those visits—in an attempt to at least stave off some of the downright feral horniness the man brings out in you—you're fucking convinced that Santiago winks at you every time you open the door to let him in.)

You've choked on your food during dinner on several occasions while you've been distracted staring at the way Santiago has a habit of unconsciously playing with his butter knife at the table, spinning it around in his thin, dexterous fingers.

More than once, when your dad sometimes decides to turn the conversation to your love life (in which he'll typically grumble about how much he didn't like the last guy you brought home), you've caught Santiago staring at you. Hard. It's a fucking searing gaze—and you can't help but clench your thighs together underneath the table in response.

(And when he turns to your dad with what's turned into his classic response, "Call me when she's bringing boys home, and I'll come over and straighten them out," he always has the audacity to smirk at you afterward.)

You have no idea why you continue to offer to be the one to serve tea after dinner when Santiago's there, because it's an olympic sport trying to hide the trembling of your hands as you bend down in front of him with the cup. (And you're still trying to figure out how he stopped you from dropping it one time, firmly wrapping his hands around yours while his eyes remained trained on your face.)

Sometimes, Santiago stays the night. And after the first time he startled you while you were making the bed in the guest room, standing there leaning against the doorway with a lazy smirk on his face, you start making sure you're wearing one of the shorter sundresses from your closet whenever you have to perform the chore.

(One time, while you're bent over and reaching out across the mattress to fluff the pillows—and maybe you forgot to put on underwear that day, it's an honest mistake—you find yourself caged in against the edge of the bed. Santi's breath tickles the hair at the nape of your neck, and his voice is rough as he says, "I'm not going to be able to control myself if you keep doing this, sweetheart.")

(He walks away, and the rest of the visit carries on as if nothing happened.)

Even though the guest room is located directly beside yours, that alone can never stop you from resisting the urge to shuck off your clothes and plunge your fingers into your soaking wet mound the moment you turn in for the evening.

(Sometimes, after you're finished, you fucking swear you hear the wet slapping of skin through the thin walls between yours and the guest room.)

All bets are officially off when Santiago stops by one hot summer day to drop something off for your dad while he's at work, only to come in through the back gate to find you lounging in the pool in a bikini. The only thing more shocking than your invitation to him to come in for a dip to cool off...is the fact that he obliges you. ("I shouldn't be doing this," he says, "but you also shouldn't be moaning so loud the whole house can hear you when you're finger fucking yourself at night.")

(His idea of teaching you how to be more quiet is pulling you into his lap as he sits down on the ladder. And as you're both still submerged under the water, he challenges you to swallow down each and every moan as he hooks a finger into your bathing suit bottoms and fingers you right there in your goddamn pool.)

The next time Santiago visits, you both run into one another on your way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. "I fucking can't stop thinking about you," he groans before pinning you up against the wall with a bruising kiss.

Stolen kisses become a ritual for the two of you when he's at your house—chaste ones in the kitchen when he slips in to put his dirty dishes in the sink, languid ones against the washing machine when he catches you doing the laundry, reckless ones on your porch when you find an excuse to walk him out the nights that he doesn't stay.

But Santiago Garcia won't have sex with you, and it's driving you insane. So if you purposely invite a guy over for dinner on a night that Santi's also there, well. The jealousy burning in his gaze all throughout dinner is certainly worth it. And when you walk into your room to go to sleep later that evening, you're startled to find Santiago sitting on your bed waiting for you, arms crossed.

Putting far too much trust in the meager lock on your door handle, Santiago Garcia fucks you right into your mattress that night. He fucks you so hard and filthy, your pussy is still throbbing when you wake up the next morning, cum dripping from your folds onto your sheets.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» OSCAR ISAAC MASTERLIST » SANTIAGO GARCIA MASTERLIST

[wonwoosthetic]

the minnie update makes me fall for mingyu more cause it actually sounds like something he would do irl ahhh could we get a wonwoo simp version too? 🥺

thank youuuu for the request, I hope you like this :)

masterlist

whenever they show up together (which is... kinda like... all the time)

[i wish i was kidding, but istg]

[i'm not kidding]

[these two are EVERYWHERE together]

Hoshi was moving the camera around, showing the viewers a few parts of the makeup trailer while describing what could be seen. His ears perked up when there was suddenly a familiar high-pitched laugh in the background, getting closer to the room he was in. He directed the camera to the entrance, showing the first person that joined him, his fellow '96 Liner,

"Wonwoo's here," he commented, followed by a quick, "Oh, and Minnie too, I thought I heard your voice."

The girl glanced at the performance team leader with wide eyes, looking like a dear caught in headlights before she quickly covered it with a big grin. 

[girlie looking a little sus]

She made her way to the empty spot next to Hoshi, sitting down on the rather uncomfortable couch.

"I'll be filming Wonwoo as he changes into his outfit today," he continued entertaining the viewers, getting interrupted by a chuckle from the female member. "What?" He wondered.

"I don't know how appropriate that is for the Seventeen youtube channel,"

[very appropriate, don't worry minnie]

[very appropriate, i promise you]

The camera was on her, filming her side profile while she kept her eyes straight ahead.

[i love how it's apparently not appropriate for us, but she can't take her eyes off him]

"But the viewer ratings would go up for sure," she added,

[SEE]

[she understands us]

making the tiger laugh out loud, whereas the other '96 Liner turned his head to her, smiling in amusement,

"What the hell are you talking about?"

[don't act so coy wonwoo]

"Oh, tell me I'm wrong. Carats have been waiting for this day," 

[YES]

[YES WE HAVE, PLEASE MINNIE]

Minnie teased him, a shy grin playing on her lips, 

[BROOOOOO]

[so she's that type of girlfriend]

"Right?" She sent a quick look into the lens before directing her attention to Hoshi, who nodded in agreement.

The three continued staying in the trailer, talking for a few more minutes when Wonwoo took a bag of chips off the table and threw himself onto the seating era, munching on the snack. He offered the bag to the girl, who declined, but Hoshi gladly took it out of the '96 Liner's grasp as he was called to change his outfit.

The camera was filming close shots of the leader's face when a hand suddenly covered his eyes.

"Why are you covering my eyes?" He chuckled at the girl's sudden action.

"Wonwoo's changing," she answered in the most normal possible tone, making Hoshi only chuckle again.

[gatekeeping her boyfriend, #girlboss]

"Then I should be the one covering your eyes idiot," he reached forward with his hand but only managed to brush over her nose and lips as she squirmed away with a giggle.

[she's so cute, pls help me]

-

Dokyeom, Seungkwan, and Mingyu were dancing in the middle of the practice room, the camera filming every second of what was happening, when, in the back, Minnie had come through the door and Wonwoo with his hands on her shoulders, right behind her. 

[ZAZHIAFHHUISFBNAIHFIN]

[if anyone can explain to me why I'm literally going feral over a little touch, pls let me know]

The girl stopped in her tracks, making the rapper come to a halt as well as they both eyed the scene in front of them. Minnie scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. She sighed, shook her head with a smile, and stepped inside, turning around right away to interlock her arm with Wonwoo's as they continued making their way further into the room.

[eye emoji]

-

On the set of his music video for 'Spider', Hoshi kept his gaze on the monitor, rewatching what they had just shot when two people, in thick jackets and masks, started approaching him from behind. With slow and quiet steps they got closer until they stopped right behind him, only to reach out, place their hands on his torso and basically scare the crap out of that man. He jumped up and immediately turned around, the camera showing the two intruders - Wonwoo and Minnie.

[they're literally everywhere together]

"Woah," Hoshi exclaimed with a big smile, his hand still over his heart, "You scared me, for real." The three laughed together, and the '96 Liner went in to hug the couple, "I didn't know you guys were coming."

"I forced Wonwoo to come with me," Minnie explained, getting a chuckle from the two men.

[OF COURSE, SHE DID]

[dominant minnie, we love it]

The rapper was quick to defend himself, "I wanted to come along. On free will."

[hm, sure wonwoo]

[he doesn't want to admit that minnie's the dom in the relationship]

[it's okay]

As Hoshi had to go back to filming, the cameraman asked the couple to say a few words. 

"I'm really excited for my leader's solo song. I wanted to come and see what he planned since he had put a lot of hard work into this. He's even getting half naked for Carats," Minnie chuckled, turning to the side to get another glimpse of the scene they were about to shoot.

Wonwoo scrunched his eyebrows, "Your leader?" To which Minnie nodded, and he smiled, "S.Coups is not gonna like that." But she just shrugged with a laugh,

[i would pay to see how scoups reacted to this fr]

"I'm loyal to Hoshi. Once S.Coups does something like this, I'll be loyal to him."

Before she could say another thing, a hand suddenly covered her eyes, making her giggle,

"What?" Her hands came up to push Wonwoo's down, but it didn't even budge.

"Hoshi's half-naked right now," the '96 Liner answered her, smiling along to the sound of her laughter.

[LIKE GIRLFRIEND, LIKE BOYFRIEND]

[PLEASE, I WANT THIS]

-

The next clip showed the short moment when Minnie and Wonwoo visited Minghao on the set of his 'Side by Side' music video. Standing next to each other, the girl, once again, had her arm interlocked with his as they waved to the other '97 Liner who was sitting on the couch that was part of the scene he was filming.

"We're here!" They shouted together, their eyes showing how bright their smiles underneath the masks were.

[of course, you are]

[like i said, they're everywhere together]

THE ENTIRE FREAKING EGO EPISODE

[too much cute shit happened while they were trapped in that house]

[but here are some of my personal favourites]

As Wonwoo walked towards the door to their right, ready to open it with the key the couple had just acquired, Minnie was hot on his step, her gaze switching behind her every now and then.

[she literally almost never left his side during this entire episode]

"Shouldn't we open the other door as well?" She wondered, her voice quiet, not wanting to trigger any more jump scares even though she knew they would come sooner or later.

The rapper's head snapped towards her, "Hm?" He hummed, "That door?" And nodded towards the mentioned door on the other side of the room. The girl motioned 'yes' with her head before Wonwoo managed to open the lock and get rid of the chain around the door handle. Minnie squirmed at the sight of the creepy-looking room ahead of them as her hands immediately found their way to wrap around his bicep.

[HER HANDS]

[i want to touch his arm like that too pleeeaaasee]

"I think we should really maybe look into the other room first," she repeated her words, tugging on his arm gently, making the man chuckle.

[we saw that wonwoo]

"You just want to drag out going further," to which she nodded with a straight facial expression. 

[STOP]

[THEY'RE SO CUTE]

Wonwoo agreed and took both of them to the other side of the room, opening the entrance to take a step inside. The girl behind him quickly shook her head,

"Nevermind," and backed off, "You've got to be kidding me. Why would they do something like this?"

The '96 Liner chuckled, "You like horror movies, don't you?"

"Yeah, but this is a little too real. Horror movies aren't real," she defended herself, taking a few steps back and waited for him to join her again.

"Some horror movies are real," he commented, earning him a gentle nudge out of annoyance,

"Why did you have to say that now?"

[we need more of this teasing omg]

He passed her, walking towards the opened door, wanting to continue their journey further into the building. Minnie's eyes were fixed on the dark room to her left, and, for some reason, her feet dragged her closer towards it. She dared to take another closer look inside, a chill shooting through her body as she analysed the weirdly placed body and the strings attached to it. Turning her head, she was about to open her mouth but noticed how much further away Wonwoo already was and was quick to jog towards him before he could disappear out of her sight.

"Hey, wait up for me," she whined out loud, getting him to stop in his tracks and wait for her to catch up with him.

[dude stopped, IMMEDIATELY]

[he ain't leaving his girlie behind]

-

"Should we go downstairs?" Wonwoo asked, even though it was more of a rhetorical question as they knew they didn't have much of a choice.

Minnie found the gaze of her boyfriend, immediately shaking her head as their eyes locked.

"You can stay behind me," he offered her, 

[GENTLEMANY WOO]

[the way he said it]

taking the first step down that would lead them into the dark. Without waiting for an answer, he continued going down the set of stairs, feeling her presence close behind him the entire time and the gentle brush of her fingertips against his hand, knowing she wanted nothing more but to hold onto it tightly, so he engulfed hers in his.

[THE EDITORS DIDN'T EVEN CARE TO CUT THIS OUT]

[WE'RE GETTING ALL THE LITTLE INTERACTIONS AND TOUCHES, AAAAAAH]

-

The couple was exploring the floor and had reached the dark room with a couch in the middle of it and lockers lined up against the wall.

"This is the one without a padlock," Minnie pointed at it as hesitant steps took her inside, "That's the one we're not supposed to open..." she made sure to keep a good distance between her and the cupboard. Her eyes didn't leave Wonwoo's form as he got closer to the lockers. "And we have to find out how to open the other one."

The rapper grabbed the lock to inspect it before dropping it and moving to the right locker, knocking on it for some reason, making the girl jump and rush over to him, pushing his arm down,

"Why the hell would you do this?!" She quietly shouted at him, scared of the consequences his actions might have.

[i get you, babes]

[i would've punched him so hard, ngl]

Wonwoo shrugged, "It said not to open it. That doesn't mean we can't knock on it."

Minnie's facial expression read nothing but confusion, "What kind of logic is that?" 

[nah bc fr]

He continued nudging into the locky harshly, the sound of metal echoing through the room, making the '97 Liner shiver as she continued to slap his arm away, "Wonwoo!"

[i can't tell if he really was curious or just wanted to tease her but I'm putting money on the latter]

"I think someone's inside," his comment didn't do anything to soothe her, "But they're probably not gonna jump out."

Something inside her told her to try and glance through the little slits at the top of the locker, and for some reason, she decided to listen to that voice and stood up on her tippy toes, trying to sneakily look inside. As expected, she couldn't see anything - which she definitely was glad for.

"Not unless we open it, but don't provoke it. Who knows. So stop." She warned him one more time, and with a sigh, she took a few steps back, just in case, continuing to eye the locker suspiciously.

-

The two had gone back into the room that held different files and documents about certain 'patients'. They were looking through each one of them, with Wonwoo reading some out loud.

Minnie chuckled to herself, but it caught the rapper's attention, making him hum and raise his eyebrows. She shook her head, "I don't understand any of this" 

[i didn't even understand anything with the subtitles, babes, so don't worry]

Her comment made him smile as well. 

[he isn't even hiding his amusement, it's so cute, i can't]

Minnie did understand it a little bit, but some of the vocabulary that was used in the files was medical stuff she never had anything to do with. They shared a moment of silence before the oldest took the word,

"You can go and look for more clues if you want to," he suggested, immediately noticing the perplexed expression the girl sent him.

"Are you being funny now? You want me to go around here on my own?" 

[straight up, kick him for that idea bc wtf wonwoo]

She pointed behind her, taking a quick glance as well, coming to sight with the dark once again and the weird lighting that lit up the room slightly.

Wonwoo shrugged, "Maybe you'll find something else."

With a sigh, she found herself defeated and decided to step over her shadow, reminding herself that she usually was someone that enjoyed adrenaline and watching horror movies. This was unlike her, but for some reason, the situation was more uncomfortable for her than she had imagined it would be. She passed the mannequin in the chair and was back in the hallway they had reached after walking down the stairs. She also didn't even look into the room with the locker, 

"Nope, not going in there," 

[SAME GIRL]

she whispered to herself, taking a few steps further before she was about to round the corner when she came to sight with total darkness ahead of her. "Not going there either," 

[i'm so sorry, but i literally laughed so hard]

she shook her head, jumping back. 

Once she wanted to get back to Wonwoo, the glass door seemed to be another thing she was interested in as it possibly could hold a clue to their further steps. She didn't get too close, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw something in the mirror, making her jolt as she dared to take a peak. Minnie jumped and whimpered out loud as it was clear to see what she could see through the mirror.

"Oppa...," she raised her voice slightly, 

[LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS]

-clip gets repeated-

[we all know, minnie doesn't just call anyone that]

[so how tf, could they have kept this in]

[SHE BASICALLY JUST OUTED THEM]

-clip gets repeated again-

[BRO, LITERALLY CAUGHT IN 4K, WTFFFFF]

hoping the man in the other room could hear her. She backed off quickly before her steps turned into a jog, running back to where the '96 Liner was still going through the documents. "Wonwoo!"

[the way she changed to calling out his name so fast]

[doesn't matter minnie babes, we get it]

"What?" He reacted quickly, raising his head to watch the girl heading toward him. "What is it?" He asked again, surprised by the rush she seemed to be in.

She ushered for him to come closer, "Come, come." Leaning forward to get a hold of his hand to make him follow her back to the glass door, they at first thought might be an exit.

[he gets dragged like that by mingyu AND by minnie]

[such cuties]

"What did you find?" Wonwoo wondered, but the girl didn't answer him until they came to a halt.

She pointed straight ahead, slightly out of breath, "Look at the mirror."

Minnie received a perplexed look in return, "What?"

She shook her head, "Just look." Without asking another question, Wonwoo got closer to the mirror, looking at him first before directing his gaze around, trying to see what his girlfriend was talking about.

"Is there something I'm supposed to see?" He asked her.

"Yes!" She walked up to stand next to him, glancing at the mirror in the same angel as before, only to be disappointed by what she saw - nothing. "Huh?" In confusion, she walked past Wonwoo to get closer to the door, leaning in slightly, trying to tilt her head to be able to see to the side. "What the heck..." Minnie mumbled.

"What?" The rapper joined her, staring out into the darkness, wondering what she had seen before.

"I swear to God...," she turned back around towards him, "There was something- someone."

[first wonwoo during that tag episode, now her...]

[#soulmateshit seeing ghosts hahahah]

wonwoo's birthday vlive 2021

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Wonwoo! Happy Birthday to you!" At the sound of Minnie's singing echoing through the room, Wonwoo looked up, finding her standing by the door, a small cupcake in her hands. 

[I HOPE Y'ALL ARE SEEING THIS]

[LOOK AT THOSE STARS IN HIS EYES]

[LITERALLY HEART SHAPED, CONVINCE ME OF STH ELSE]

Before he could say anything, Dokyeom's head appeared in the doorway,

"Happy Birthday, hyung!" He quickly shouted, disappearing again, leaving the couple and a few of their staff members alone in the room.

Wonwoo chuckled, thanking DK before smiling at the female member, "What are you doing here?" His eyes didn't leave her form as she put the cupcake down on the table in front of him, still staying behind the camera though. "I already blew out candles," he commented at the burning candle on the dessert.

[he didn't stop smiling the entire time]

[I'm not even lying]

Minnie shrugged with a grin, "Doesn't mean you can't do it again."

He grinned, "Everyone," directing his gaze towards the camera, "Minnie's now here too," and read some comments at the same time, "They want to see you." He looked up at the girl, who was quick to make her way around the table and sit down next to him on the couch after he had scooted over.

"Hi, guys," she greeted the fans watching the Vlive with a bright smile. 

[i need someone that looks at me the way he looks at her, i can't do this anymore]

She pointed at the candle, making Wonwoo hum in question. "You have to blow it out." 

Minnie picked it up with two hands and held it up higher, giving Carats a view of the dessert. "I made it," she smiled proudly, making Wonwoo laugh out loud,

"You bought this."

"How would you know?" The girl raised her eyebrows at him in a teasing manner. He copied her facial expression, 

[THIS]

making both of them chuckle as they shared a short second of silence, just looking into each other's eyes.

"Because you said you had to leave for a second, and suddenly you're back with this."

"I had to leave because of a call," she joked, trying to talk herself out of it quickly, but Wonwoo only laughed at her.

"Sure."

[AND THE BICKERING CONTINUES]

Before he was able to say anything more, Minnie spoke up impatiently, "Just make a wish and blow the candle out."

"Can you sing happy birthday in french for me?" He grinned cheekily at her facial expression.

"In french? Why?"

[OUR DUDE HAS A THING FOR FRENCH, *insert wolve whistle]

"I like it," he shrugged, but the girl shook her head with a nervous chuckle,

"Later. Maybe.“

[WHAT DO YOU MEAN, LATER?!]

[y'all should've seen in the comments after that omg]

-inserts some of them-

"they're probably talking about french kissing bc wtf was that look"

"are they trying to be subtle about this?"

"ALRIGHT, YOU CAN STOP NOW, we know we're single, thx"

"ehm... do y'all wanna get room maybe?"

"I really wanna see what their excuse for this little moment will be"

"I just got here but what the hell am I interrupting"

-

"You're gonna get your present later," Minnie told him after he had given her a bite of his birthday cake.

Wonwoo looked at her in confusion at first, "But you already gave me a present," which turned into an amused smile when she glanced at him perplexed. Within a short moment, the light in her brain switched on, and she stared at him wide-eyed, sending him a message with her eyes, shouting 'shut the fuck up' in her head. 

[WHAT'S THAT LOOK?!]

She tried to cover it up quickly,

"No...," hiding her mouth behind her hand for a second, "I meant a different present." But her cheeks ratted her out.

[EHM... WHAT. IS. GOING. ON.]

[THIS SEEMED A LITTLE TOO TMI]

[I'M NOT IMAGINING ANYTHING, RIGHT?!]

The '96 Liner laughed, "Alright," changing the subject back to the cake, but not before she punched him softly in the shoulder.

[I... I have no words.]

bittersweet behind

Wonwoo, Mingyu, Minnie, and S.Coups were standing in a corner on the set of the Bittersweet music video, munching on some snacks their leader had brought.

"He's the leader of our hip-hop team," the '96 Liner told the camera.

"And we're the members," the younger rapper added.

"And Minnie is our new member," Wonwoo ended their explanation, 

[the way he includes her is so cute]

making the girl, who was snuggled into the leader's side, chuckle.

"I'm the hip-hop team's official fourth member," she smiled, making her boyfriend copy her expression.

[first of all: WHIPPED]

[second: vernon is shaking]

-

Minnie was giving a brief explanation of some of the scenes they had shot on their first day when she felt two hands on her shoulders. In the next moment, Minghao, who had come to visit, was standing next to her, with his arm around her shoulder as he eyed her down.

"Wasn't Wonwoo wearing that jacket before?" He wondered.

[HA, CALLED OUT RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA]

The female member nodded, getting a hold of the collar to pull it tighter around her frame, "But I was cold, so he gave it to me."

[brb, just gonna go take a quick bath with my toaster]

Her fellow '97 Liner smiled, "Gentleman," nodding along with her as she chuckled, "very good."

[HE KNOWS]

[HE KNOWS]

[HE FUCKING KNOWS]

-

They were about to shoot the next scene, therefor Wonwoo was already sitting by the bar, waiting for the filming to start. Minnie hadn't shown up yet, but, speaking of the devil, she had just come in and taken her place behind the bar.

"Oooh, pretty girl," Wonwoo whistled, 

[WONWOO?!]

[i literally hardly ever see him that expressive wtf]

making the female turn around and stare at him in shock, hoping the makeup was covering the blush that she felt coming to her cheeks. 

[babes, you're cheeks are brighter than rudolph's nose]

She quickly looked around and found a piece of cloth to throw at him

Minnie laughed, "You just sounded like one of those guys in movies and tries to woo the bartender in a really gross way."

"Did you just call me gross?" The rapper chuckled, putting the cloth to the side.

[PLEASE HADBAJHDUIAFILFIFHU]

"I called what you said gross," she defended herself, 

[you enjoyed it, don't even try to deny it]

sending him a bright grin before they had to start filming and acting seriously.

-

Hoshi had come to visit the trio on set, and the camera found all four of them outside, lost in a conversation.

"Watching them shoot in person," the performance team leader explained, "gets me really excited. I kept watching through the monitor and wow..." He stopped for a second, letting his last words linger in the air as the trio continued to look at him in anticipation. "Now with the last scene I watched, I noticed how good Minnie and Wonwoo look together on camera," he suddenly mentioned, making the trio chuckle. 

[why are the members so straight forward hahahaha]

[i mean... i'm definitely NOT complaining]

Minnie, who was standing next to Wonwoo, her arms wrapped around his right arm, leaned into his shoulder, trying to hide her smile.

[this is minnie privilege]

[she's constantly hanging on his arm]

[i get it though, i literally wouldn't let go of those arms either]

"Thank you, Hoshi," she smiled at him.

-

For their special performance video for Bittersweet, Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Minnie were dressed up in nicer clothing, with the guys in dress pants and button-ups and the girl in a skirt and pretty top. To accentuate her legs, the stylist gave her some knee-high boots that made it harder for her to walk. Her waddles made Minnie giggle as she made her way towards the other two members that had already taken place in front of the bar set. 

[she looks so cute, but i feel so sorry for her having to walk in these]

Once she came to view, Mingyu started laughing as well and tapped Wonwoo's legs before motioning for him to turn around and look at the female dancer.

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo wondered, getting up to offer his arm to help her walk.

Minnie nodded, "Yeah," and chuckled to herself, "The shoes are just really hard to walk in."

"Why are you wearing them then?" Her fellow '97 Liner wanted to know, moving to the side slightly as the director asked for the girl to be in the middle of both men.

The female grinned, "Because they look good." 

[HAHAHAHA SAME]

Her comment made Wonwoo shake his head.

[he's so done with her hahahah]

While Mingyu got called out to get his makeup touched up, the older rapper and Minnie got instructions for the shooting of the video,

"And I was thinking that we could put Minnie up here," pointing to the bar, "So you'd sit on the counter."

"With that skirt?" Wonwoo immediately asked, making the girl smile,

[OH OH OH]

[wonwoo going into his protective boyfriend mode]

"You can't see anything," she assured him and agreed to get up on the counter. A staff member offered to get them a stool, but the '96 Liner stopped him. In the next moment, he had his hands on Minnie's hips, and she had hers on his shoulders, as they nodded to each other before she bent her knees slightly, ready to jump, and he raised her up to put her down onto the counter. 

[*clearing my throat* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH*

[WHAT THE ACTUAL FUUUUUCKK]

The rapper continued to stand in front of her while she tried to pull her skirt down as good as possible and crossed her legs to sit more elegantly.

[literally perfect bf material]

[it's giving timothee chalamet and saoirse ronan and I AM LOVING THIS]

Once she was done, Wonwoo stepped aside and took a seat on the stool to her left.

honestly, just them talking is so cute

Minnie saw Mingyu and Wonwoo in front of the cameraman for their Inside Seventeen episode and decided to sneak up on them, stopping a few centimetres behind them.

"Mingyu promised to buy us something delicious," the '96 Liner explained to the camera, getting a glimpse of the female member out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and motioned for her to come closer, taking a small step to the side, so she would fit in between them.

"What do you want to eat?" Mingyu asked him, realising Minnie was next to him after the words had left his lips.

Wonwoo directed his attention to the girl, brushing a hand over her head, "What do you want?"

[help, i just threw myself down the stairs]

She looked up at him, "I get to decide?" Making him nod, and the younger rapper agreed,

"Anything you want."

[not wonnie, BUT MY GOD MINGYU]

[i'd give him head right then and there ngl]

She sent a proud grin to the camera.

[SHE KNOWS SHE HAS BOTH OF THEM WRAPPED AROUND HER FINGER, YESSS]

-

"Today, we're wearing our outfits from the music video," Minnie explained to the camera while the staff and members were getting ready for the pre-recording behind her. "I really like this comeback and the style of-" her talk was interrupted when suddenly a blanket was thrown over her upper body. Turning to the side, Wonwoo was standing next to her with a grin on his lips.

"What was that for?" She grabbed the piece of fabric and was about to remove it, but his hands were quick and pulled it up higher again, tightening it around her chest,

[ eyes ]

"You must be cold." His comment was directed towards the rather small vest she was wearing. 

[part 2 of wonwoo in his protective boyfriend mode]

[GOOD EXCUSE WONWOO]

Minnie didn't get the hint right away, so she just shook her head and tried to get rid of the blanket one more time,

"No, not really. I'm good." But again, his hands came up to hold it tightly in place, this time, not letting go as he held onto it,

[he really isn't letting go, I CAN'T]

"I'm sure you're really cold. It's okay, I'll hold it for you." They shared a second in silence, with their eyes interlocked, and finally, Minnie got it, making her laugh out loud as she tried to get his hands off the fabric. With no luck though since the rapper was by far stronger than her, so she just gave in with a sigh. With a nod, she turned to the camera again,

"I hope you enjoy it, Carats."

[oh, we're enjoying everything here very much, don't worry minnie]

-

The cameraman suddenly filmed a new figure coming to the Hip Hop unit's photo shoot for Esquire. It was quickly revealed to be Minnie as she took off her mask and greeted the camera,

"Hello," she smiled, "How are you?"

[cuutiiee]

Before she could say anything more, Vernon's voice was heard from behind the camera, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you. Only you," she grinned and waddled her way forward, closer to him to engulf him in a hug. The '98 Liner stared at the camera perplexed as he made his body completely stiff, not giving into the show of affection.

[no wonnie moment, BUT I LOVE THEM]

[they're literally siblings and i love this duo so much]

"Wonwoo!" 

[younger brother quickly getting the boyfriend]

He suddenly called out, making the girl raised her head at the mention of her partner's name. She peaked past the younger member and found the rapper coming closer to the duo, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion,

"What are you doing here?" The repetition of Vernon's question made the two younger members chuckle.

[why are vernon and wonwoo sometimes the same person?]

"Can I not just show up to support you guys?" Minnie whined, glancing at both men, who kept a straight face.

[FR, SUPPORTIVE GIRLFRIEND]

Wonwoo kept on nagging her, "Support us during a photo shoot?" To which she nodded her head proudly.

"You might need it, who knows."

[damn]

The '96 Liner chuckled and took a step closer, so they'd be in a smaller frame together, "What are you really doing here?" Lost in their conversation, they didn't realise that Vernon had left them alone.

Minnie sighed, "I left my keys at home," stretching her hand out, palm up. Wonwoo looked down, looked back up at her, only to look down again and slap his hand on hers, giving her a low-five.

[BRO, WONWOO]

"Too bad," he shrugged, making the girl look at him with an open mouth,

[he's so funny when he doesn't even try to be]

"What do you mean 'too bad'? I'm asking you very kindly to give me your keys," his hand came up to tap her chin at her cute antics, but she squirmed away with a smile the second he touched her,

[STOP, WHAT WAS THAT]

[DID YOU GUYS SEE THIS?!]

[PLEASE, HE'S SO IN LOVE]

"So I can go home."

A voice coming through the speakers, telling the members of the hip hop unit to get back in front of the camera, interrupted the couple.

Wonwoo grinned, "Oh, I have to go back," and turned his back to Minnie, but not before getting a hold of her hand and shaking it to comfort her. The female dancer kept her gaze on his silhouette as he walked away from her.

[minnie, hello?]

[her eyes are GLUED on him, jeez]

She took a deep breath, "You know," she started, slowly turning towards the camera, "Carats always ask what it's like to live with the members. This is what it's like. It's great." And sent the viewers a bright, sarcastic grin.

[oh stop it, you love it]

[and you love him]

wonwoo loves dino a lot, but minnie loves him more

The members were taking a break from filming their music video to 'Rock With You' with everyone sitting at different places on the set. Minnie was between Dino and Wonwoo, her head on Wonwoo's shoulder as she joined him in watching what he was doing on his phone. 

[i for real could do another video of just them in the background of videos]

[there's so much content]

[LOOK AT THEM]

[such cuties]

Next to the couple, Joshua was taking pictures of the maknae, just like he asked him to. As he went through the pictures, commenting on some of them, the '95 Liner asked him,

"You can feel my effort, right? And my love." To which the rapper's ear perked up,

"No one loves Dino as much as I do." To which the youngest laughed.

The girl raised her head from its position and opened her mouth,

"I love him more." Making Dino laugh even more.

[and the married couple's fight begins]

"No, I do," Wonwoo argued back. Minnie distanced herself from him, scooting closer to the maknae to rest her head on his shoulder,

"Nope, I love him the most," slinging her arms around his torso to give him a tight hug.

[SHE REALLY LOVES DINO SO MUCH]

[petition: wonnie as dino's parents]

WHENEVER WONWOO DOES THIS

The female member was sitting on the floor after their long practice for their Golden Disc Award performance. The camera was filming her for their Inside Seventeen episode, making her look up once she noticed, sending a cute wave and blowing a kiss towards it. 

[why am i blushing?]

She jolted when someone suddenly grabbed her head and started shaking it, making her chuckle - she knew immediately who it was. 

[NO]

[NO, SHUT UP]

[THERE ARE SO MANY MOMENTS, BUT THIS ONE TAKES THE FIRST PLACE]

[HE'S SO AFFECTIONATE]

Her suspicion was confirmed once Wonwoo sat down next to her, placing the energy drink he was drinking on the floor.

The cameraman was still in the same place, and Minnie smiled, pointing at it, "The camera is jealous now." The rapper knew he was talking to her. "Because you did that to me but not to it."

[thank you minnie bc i genuinely was jealous]

The corners of his lips curled as he reached forward, pretending to get a hold of the lens and started shaking it the same way he would always do.

-

The members were standing on the side of the practice room, watching Vernon's dance break and rewarded him with a round of applause as soon as he was done. They got up from the floor and were making their way back into the middle. Wonwoo stopped in front of the cameraman, reaching out with his hands to grab the lens, shaking it in his usual style. Since Minnie was right behind him, she stopped with a smile, which was revealed once he freed the camera from his hold again and stepped aside. 

[sigh...]

[it's either him looking at her with heart eyes or she's doing it]

[can't they please just look at each other?!]

He caught the girl's glance from the corner of his eye and turned towards her, leaving the couple to smile at each other. 

[THANK YOU]

Just a second later, Wonwoo had his hands on Minnie's head, doing the same thing he just did to the camera, making her laugh out loud. 

[anybody wanna go jump into the river... from the bridge... with my car...]

Her hands came up to grasp his, trying to push them away while her giggles filled their ears.

[and that was my last straw, thank you very much]

minnie’s live 220901

minnie in gose

more content of

A/N: thank you to everyone who has been adding things to my Google form (still open for a possible part 2) that I was able to include here :)

taglist: @shrynkk @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe

[liyazaki]

For me the best thing about Not Me is Gun’s acting. One of the best performances I’ve seen. I also like his White as part of the gang outfit. It’s a cute look.

one actor playing two characters is always a big risk- for me, it usually falls a little flat or I'm just not sold on there being two distinct characters. Gun's performance is so convincing without veering into the cartoonish, overacted department. it's the subtlety that makes it so brilliant.

it's in little things, like the way Black carries this perpetual tension (as in actual muscle tension; you can visibly see it) around his eyes and forehead and the flat yet ferocious glint in his gaze, in contrast to the openness of White's gaze and the softness of his expressions.

there's one obvious aspect of Gun's performance in particular that's had me going feral since Black made his return, to the point that I've been wanting to re-watch the initial eps to fully appreciate it.

when White first joined the gang, he was constantly trying to appear tougher and more experienced than he actually was. now that Black's back and we can really appreciate just how intense Black actually is, it makes White's attempts at impersonating him almost adorable.

even when White was trying his absolute damndest to appear cold and calculating, he couldn't fully hide the kindness, inner softness and natural empathy that sets him apart from his brother. Gun could've easily lapsed into a closer version of Black's character during those moments, but we would've lost all of that nuance.

it's also clearly why Sean fell in love with White in the first place, so seeing it play out in a subtle, understated way was so essential for the story and their journey. talk about a performance that 'walks the edge of a knife'- again, it's just brilliant.

moral of the story: give the man all the awards, mountains of praise and accolades. and while we're at it, I'm manifesting that he make an appearance in PP's vlogs because that is an underrated friendship for the ages and content that I simply require.

edit: I realized I didn't address the White-as-Black fashion moments & you are 100% correct. he was giving omg-I'm-so-hardcore-look-I-cut-the-sleeves-off-this-Urban-Outfitters-top vibes and I'm so grateful for it.

[sashi-ya]

Hiii!!! I'm the same anon that asked for the 'getting captured by marines' headcanons and I just want to say I loved them SO MUCH!!!!

I'm probably being super selfish right now, but I couldn't resist sending another request since your writing style is amazing, so...

I know you don't write for Kid that much but I love how you write him, so I was thinking maybe you could do a short scenario of him having a crush on one of his crewmembers who happens to be a doctor??? And the doctor taking care of his wounds after a rough battle?? I just think it would be cute, but I understand if I'm asking too much.

Take care!!!

Hi!! Of course my darling! I'm a doctor so I looove when I have to write for this type of prompt! I hope you enjoy it ♥ Take care my fellow Kid lover!. Thanks for your support!! 💖

Eustass Captain Kid x Doctor! Reader ~

TW: wounds, blood, needles. Fluff & Awkwardness. Bad words.

WC: 2288 ~

“Stay still, Kid…”, you tell him as he won’t stop moving. “It fucking burns, you know”, Kid tells you, while you try to clean one of the several wounds on his arm. “Of course it burns, I’m trying to disinfect this cut with fucking sake. I told you we need to buy medical supplies”, you scold him, grabbing his huge arm as if that would be enough to keep him still.

After bandaging his arm, it’s time for you to take care of the wounds on his legs. “Take off those dirty pants so I can cure your legs. Could you please stop being so feral when it comes to fighting, you are still a human” you command him once again. Of course no one can command your “cruel” captain, but somehow when he is hurt, he hears you and does as you tell.

“My… pants?”, he asks you, widening his eyes and lifting one side of his mouth. “Yeah, look at you, you are covered in blood, Kid. Don’t be such a pussy, come on” you tell him, half seriously half on the edge of laughing. You think he is scared, but the truth is that he is ashamed.

He stays still, looking at you, with his hand over his stomach. Kid has a slight blush on his cheeks. You look at him with a swab soaked in sake on your hand, slightly moving your leg, impatient because this treatment is getting too damn long. Until you realize…

“Oh, oh my God Kid. I’m sorry, let me help you”, you tell him when you realize he has his only arm almost immobile and he has already detached his metal arm before, so there was no possible way for him to unbutton his yellow pants. You bend in order to reach the button better, and your face almost touches his belly. The smell of blood, sake and his own body odour invade your nostrils, and somehow that plus the proximity make you feel a little fancy.

Sliding his pants off, Kid fixes his gaze on the wooden ceiling of the Victoria Punk. You discover a big wound on the left inside part of his thigh. “Kid, this… uhm, I will have to give you some sutures, you know?”, you inform him a little worried because the wound won't stop bleeding. “Y-Yeah. Just do it…”, he says, and soon you realize this is not just ache, or even him being frightened. You tend to notice how embarrassed he is for you to be kneeling down in front of his naked legs. At first you can’t believe that “beast” could be ashamed of something, he is always so open, so shameless. But there he is, blushed, short of breath and having difficulties to even speak to you.

You smile a little, while you use a white cloth to press over the cut in order to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later, you tell him it’s time for you to stitch it. “This is going to burn and hurt like a goddamn hell, Kid. I’m so sorry, if you want you can bite this”, you tell him as you take off your scarf and give it to him. He tries to play the tough guy, but you insist on giving him your scarf, so he takes it.

You then direct all of your attention to the procedure you are about to perform on him, so you prepare the surgical needle and thread and empty the remains of sake off the bottle over his open wound. “Daaamn”, he shouts. You gaze at him quickly, with a guilty expression for making him suffer, but something catches your attention for an instant; he has your scarf over his nose, with his eyes closed. “Is he… is he smelling my scarf?”, you think, but quickly got back to the treatment.

After the suture is completed, you tell him it’s finally over. He uncovers his face and says “thank you” with that raspy voice, handing you the scarf. He tries to bend to reach for his pants, but a sting of pain hits him. “Ahj”, he aches. “Oh Kid, stay still, don’t put these pants on again. Treatment is not over, come on”, you tell him, worried if that pain is due to something more serious than a few broken ribs. “Pass your arm over my shoulders, I have to clean you, if we don’t clean your body your wounds would be infected in no time, plus, I have to check if you are not bleeding internally, dumbass”, you say while he passes his arm over your shoulders and you two start walking to his cot.

“Here, let me help you”, you bend down and help him to lean back on the cot. He coughs a little and you can see how in pain he is by his expression. It’s so sad for you to see your captain like this, you wished he was a little more careful, not so suicidal…

“Wait for me, I’m gonna bring a few wet towels”, you inform him, and walk to the bathroom to gather a few towels and warm water on a washbowl. You hear your crew mates shout that a huge storm is coming towards you, so they will be out handling that. “Great, just what we needed”, you complain, annoyed because there was even more to get worried about.

When you come back to the captain’s room, Kid is trying to get up from bed -failing miserably-. “What the fuck, Kid? I told you to stay there”, you scold him, running to where he is. “I’m sorry, I wanted to help them outside”, he tells you with a wet puppy look you haven’t seen before. “Don’t worry, Killer is in charge, don’t you trust him?”, you ask him while helping Kid to lean back again on the bed. “Yeah, I do”, he says.

“Let me clean you, ok?”, you tell him, while draining the excess of warm water off a towel. “Uhum”, he says, and accepts the towel over his chest. Subtly your hands clean the dried blood and the dirt of his body, slowly, barely touching his flesh in order to avoid hurting anything else.

You are both silent, something strange about Kid. You sit on the bed next to him, as the ship moves a little more violently than before due to the storm that turns the sea into a choppy one. The lights flicker until they turn off. “Fuck…”, you swear, and stand up. “I’m going to turn on the candle lamp”, you tell him. He remains silent.

You turn on several candles, and the warm light of the candle flame lights up the room. The shadow of his big body is drawn over the wooden wall as you let the candle over the night table next to his cot.

You reach for his face with the towel, cleaning the smeared red lipstick, and a trail of dry blood on the side of his cheek. You take off the goggles that keep his spiky hair out of his face. Strands of bright hair fall on his forehead, and you wonder why he doesn’t keep his hair like this more often.

Suddenly you interlock eyes, his bright orange irises fixed on yours, something that made you feel a hundred butterflies on your stomach. The moment you wished it lasted forever, is interrupted by a big thunder that scares the hell out of you two. You laugh, but Kid gets embarrassed and tells you to shut up and turns his face to the side. Such a tsundere…

“Kid, are you hungry?”, you ask him. “Yes”, he says after a minute, still without looking at you. He is now acting like a little child, and you just think it's cute. “Wait a sec, I’ll bring you something”, you say and walk to the kitchen.

“Hey, the guys were eating some soup, you want some?”, you tell him. He slowly looks at you, still too sore to even wake up, and says, “Yes, please”. You approach him and sit on the bed next to him, letting the bowl on the side table. “Come on”, you tell him as you lift him up a little and put some more pillows on his back just for him to sit properly.

“Open big”, you tell him, and approach the spoon to his mouth. He receives the soup in his mouth and slowly swallows it.

You recognize this must be embarrassing to him, he is always so independent, strong, reckless… you are waiting for a sudden explosion of violence, telling you he can do it by himself or something similar, but he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he eats the whole soup and even drinks the water you gave to him, sip by sip. He must be feeling really bad…

A few moments pass, and you are still on his side. He begins to fall asleep, but it looks as if he was fighting against his own exhaustion, because whenever his lids tend to shut, he just opens them quickly. “You should rest, Kid. Go to sleep, I’ll be right here, if you need something I’ll help you”, you tell him. “Go to sleep, I’m ok”, he says with that typical annoyed tone. “You see, the current captain here now is Killer and he ordered me to stay by your side, so, here I am”, you solemnly inform him, even though that’s just a lie. “Uhg…”, he complains. “Don’t act like a little child, just go to sleep”, you tell him.

It doesn’t take long until Kid passes out in bed. You regularly check on his temperature, because it won't be surprising for him to run a fever after all those cuts and inflammation. You grab a book and read next to him in that huge bed -pretty big for a simple cot -, the rain and waves sound relaxes you finally, now that your captain is asleep, safe and sound.

Some hours have passed since Kid fell asleep, when Killer appears at the door and whispering asks you how he is doing. You tell him, he is ok, but his wounds would take time to heal. Killer shakes his head, and says “When is he going to learn? Thank God we have you”. “Don’t worry, he will be ok”, you calm Kid’s best friend. “I would be happy to take your place for the night, but Kid would probably kill me if he found out it’s me and not you who is taking care of him”, he says and you look at him, confused. “What do you mean? he told me to go away”, you tell Killer. “Don’t be so sure… he is gonna kill me if he knows I told you this, but …”. Killer was about to say something when he got interrupted by a painful moan from Kid.

“What? Kid, what’s going on?”, you quickly say to him. Luckily, he is just dreaming, so you breathe relieved. You turn to the door again, to keep the conversation with Killer but he is gone now. “What the fuck? What did he have to say?”, you ask yourself, still confused.

You walk to the porthole and observe how the storm still hits hard on the sides of the ship, and slightly enjoy the sound of the thunders and how the lightnings light up the black deep sea around you.

You have left a single candle burning, so the warm light only bathes half of Kid’s face, the scars after the battle with Shanks, that he secretly hates, you love them. You start to realize that, for once he is at peace, so you can worship all of his facial features. He looks so cute when it’s not frowning. You smile stupidly at him snoring and even drooling a little, he is tired, he is exhausted. He fights to protect all of you, he fights because he is strong, because he is a fighter.

You come closer, and sit again at his side, you enjoy the proximity, because you have feelings for him. But you keep them deep inside, locked down, somewhere where they couldn't get out. You know it’s just impossible for Kid to fall in love.

Some force you can’t hold back makes your hand move aside a lock of red hair out of his face, and softly, barely palpable caress his cheek. You enjoy this moment as a little trait of destiny, maybe the first and last time you will be able to touch his face… your eyes get watery, it hurts to see how wounded he is, it hurts knowing you would never be able to kiss him.

“Y/n…”, he mumbles in his sleep. You remove your hand quickly from his face, but he grabs it. You look at him with your heart racing, almost as if it was going to jump off from your chest. “Don’t you ever go away, please”, he tells you. You think he is sleep talking, until he pulls you against his body and looks at you, directly in the eyes. “Stay here, please, sleep with me. Hug me”. This is by far the most romantic thing Kid probably has said in his whole life, but you are pleased, pleased and happy.

You delicately lay next to him, with your head over his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Enjoying the touch of his skin. “Kid… I.. I…”, you try to tell him how much you love him, but he anticipates it, “I have a crush on you, ok?”. You gasp, but then you let a little laugh slip out from your mouth. “I have a crush on you too, dumbass”... ♥

[yandere-wishes]

🖤💔Yandere!Demon Slayers As Demons💔🖤

Dear readers for the first time in two weeks I offer you something that isn't a random post or a rant. This is an AU that I’ve been working on for a while, and seeing how this turns out I might continue it in terms of one shots and a mini series. Please enjoy!!

👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺

Demon Tanjiro is much more complex than his human counterpart. His mood fluctuates too much, alternating between a loving docile young demon desperate for his lover's warm embrace, to a rabid beast who's willing to tear your stomach open with his claws and feast on your entrails while you're still breathing. He's just too unpredictable, what makes him praise you and litter your body with toothy kisses, might just get your arm dislocated the next day. There's just no telling, he just isn't Tanjiro anymore, he's some wild, savage, murderous monster wearing Tanjiro's face.

He's always watching...

His mere gaze isn't enough to turn you into a motionless rag doll. Slumped in the corner like a forgotten toy. No, but his silence is. The way his eyes are locked on you as if your some sort of little bunny that waltzed into his territory, the way his mouth is sewn shut by some invisible thread, the way his head is tilted to the side like he was trying to calculate your next move...it's all too tranquil, too clam, just like the eye of a hurricane. 

Languidly Tanjiro begins to crouch down, his moves are rapid and glitchy as if he isn't in control of his own body. Somewhere you hear something cracking, it's a dreadful noise like hammers pounding at your skull. It's only when you lift your eyes to the Oni in front of you, do you realize the noise is coming from him. It's like he's deforming in some way, dying and regenerating all in a single breath...and yet he still looks so...so beautiful. 

Even while he's stalking towards you on hands and knees, you can't deny how stunning he looks. Mouth molded into a small smile, long rust-colored locks pooling on the ground around him and his eyes... they're red one second and brown the next, changing ever so quickly just like his moods. 

He's much more passive like this, you note as if you've made some sort of groundbreaking discovery. So docile and calm...almost like a storm before it strikes. No, Tanjiro is not a storm you remind your self. He's a lion stalking its prey, relishing in the taunting silence it radiates by its mere presence.

Tanjiro's eyes have lost all hope, all passion. They're nothing more than empty spheres resting in his sockets.

You vaguely remember -or at least you think you do- a time when every action coming from the rust haired boy was entangled in a blanket of passion, every move had a clear purpose, every word was laced with an unyielding fire that had been beaten into his spirit. But now....well you didn't know what he was now, what Mozen and his sadistic "creations" had turned him into. What had they stolen from him? Was it his soul, his hope, or maybe something far worst.

Your amazement only shatters when you notice just how close he's gotten. His icy cold breath tickling the side of your neck. You squirm, pressing your palms flat against his chest. Tangiro doesn't flinch, his head cocks back to the side, his broken stare, vaguely reminds you of a discarded doll. Maybe that's what he is, not a slayer or a demon, just some broken doll that keeps you locked up in his room so that he can get a sense of being needed.

A wave of empathy crashed over you. Wearily you dropped your arms to your side, in a flash Tangiro wraps his long gauntly arms around you, squashing your bones as he pulled you ever so closer to him, nuzzling his visage in the crock of your neck.

Tanjiro Kamado may have once been a remarkable demon slayer on his way to becoming the next water piller of the demon slayer corps...but now he was nothing more than a pitiful broken demon, seeking the feeling of humanity inside a breaking, mortified girl. 

👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Zenitsu is a lot bolder, a lot pushier with his affection now that he's been turned into a demon. He wants you to love him the way he loves you, only this time he isn't afraid to break a leg or two, so you'll have no choice but to stay with him. 

His child-like tendencies are still there, albeit demented, yet ever-present. The tantrums and endless crying are as frequent as ever...except now, well now he breaks a bone for every tear YOU make him spill and leaves a scar for every time YOU couldn't satisfy him. Just remember that none of this is poor Zenitsu's fault, oh no, how could it be his fault? He's given you everything you could ever dream of! Even though you're nothing more than a pathetic useless human, Zenitsu still took you as his beloved wife! You should be grateful to him, dedicate your every living second to him, play the role of the loving, caring wife! Not some ungrateful brat, who is always trying to run away!

And yet, you've become oddly accustomed to it. No longer do you mind the screams and beatings. They've grown to be a part of you, a sick and twisted thing that resides within you, infecting your every thought. Much like how Zenitsu's become a heartsick, defective shell of his former self.  

"STOP IT"

something shattered against the wall, breaking into a million flying shards.  The noise echoed through the light less room. Weary, your eyes flashed from the broken remains of what may have been an antique vase, to the crying monster in front of you. The tips of his long curved horns were turning a stark blood red, an indication that his blood was starting to boil. Although you didn't need the mood indicating head tusks to know just how upset the blond crybaby had gotten, they were still a nice little warning to remind you of just how far you could push him. 

"Stop trying to escape!"

Had his voice amplified since your last "screaming contest"?

Did Muzen really think that Zenitsu's voice needed to get any louder, anymore irritating? 

"I wasn't" you deadpanned, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "How can I, did you forget what you did to my leg this morning?" the bones inside your left leg had been deformed, causing your entire leg to point sideways. It was a detestable sight, yet it seemed to fill your rotting heart with a sense akin to a school girl's crush. 

'Zenitsu-chan still loves me! See, see, he went out of his way to touch me!'

'No you idiot, he went out of his way to hurt you.'

Your mind had seemingly been slashed in half since your arrival at the former demon slayer's hideout. One tiny voice acted like a deranged lovesick little girl. Whist the other pertained some form of logic and common sense. This typically led to many interior arguments, all bordering on the exact same premise.

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

"Quit your whining!" the voice that escaped your lips, was flat and commanding, for a second it vaguely reminded you of Giyu Tomioka before the memory of your former lover shattered. Zenitsu's crying continued but his angry shouts slowly died down, his golden eyes shifted to stare directly at you. wearily you lifted your hands towards him, like an infant begging to be picked up. 

"I'm hungry Zenitsu! Take me into the kitchen, after all, it's your fault I'm like this!" 

Sure Zenitsu was much more powerful than you, sure he could snap your neck, ending your pitiful life at any moment. But his desperate need for approval -something else that had transcended from his human life to his current one- gave you the upper hand in this muddle of a relationship. 

As a demon Inosuke is more...feral, for lack of a better word. He is all so keen on seeing just how far he can push his darlings limits, both mentally or physically. 

He's always hovering around you, trailing his clawed fingers over patches of exposed skin. Smirking all so curly as you shiver and shrink back. His knife-like fangs seen to be permanently impaling your neck. Draining you of your life force. He's just so damn heartless!

 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️

Although he may be a ruthless monster, a creature of the night that fed on the innocent, there was no denying that Inosuke was resourceful, resourceful, and strong. He knew just where to hide you, so you would neither be found nor have a chance to escape. There was also the way he routinely cracked your fibula and tibia as a “preprecaution”. 

Your arm wasn't meant to bend that way, neither was your leg when you thought about it. Yet despite the odd angle there had yet to be any cracking or popping to indicate the limp had been, once again, broken. The only real evidence to suggest that the limps were in fact being abused was the white scorching pain coursing through them. A feeling that you had almost grown entirely familiar with.

Inosuke's green eyes shifted lazily between your scrunched up face and the twisting limps. One of his "normal" arms was occupied mangling your left arm, the other two appendages that sprouted from his back were pulling your leg upwards at the knee joint.  Inosuke's head leaned over his remaining arm, he looked bored, like your pain was so mundane that it couldn't even grant him a mere chuckle. 

"I like it better when you scream" his voice was laced with a demanding malice, something bitter and rotting. "It's boring when you try to act all strong and mighty". 

You weren't acting, acting required skills, and an audience who wanted to believe in the performer. No, your lack of response wasn't a show of strength or iron will, it was merely because your vocal cords had been shrieked raw, preventing them from making a single peep. 

Your tear-filled eyes shot up to stare into his depraved orbs. Had there ever been a time when his eyes didn't strike fear into those who peered into them? You highly doubted it, heck the idea of Inosuke ever being anything less than terrifying was a laughable thought. 

An eerie familiar noise filled the room, the cracking noise happened in three instances, like three swipes of a blade. First, it was your talus followed by your patella, and then to finish the spin chilling symphony was the crescendo of your breaking humerus for the hundredth time. 

Tears began to flow rapidly from your eyes, staining your thin layer of clothes. You could feel Inosuke's presence shifting about, leaning ever so closer to nuzzle into the side of your neck. His teeth grazing the already punctured skin. 

Inosuke use to be a demon slayer right? A passionate young man who wanted nothing more than to destroy the very same monsters that he himself became? What a laughable story, a fictional tale if ever you'd heard one!

This man was and would always be nothing more than a cruel demon!

[cssns]

Hello, Everyone!

Please welcome @hollyethecurious to the CSSNS!

Tumblr Name hollyethecurious

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom? Watched the show from the beginning, but didn't wander into fandom until halfway through S5. Lurked for a while before setting up my Tumblr and diving head first down the rabbit hole in October of 2016

When did you start shipping Captain Swan? When Emma pulled Hook's head back by his hair and held that knife to his throat.

What drew you to this event? I've been a part of the event since it's conception. My love for @kmomof4 and CS in supernatural scenarios pulled me in.

What inspired your topic? My utter love for Dark Hook

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below. The Dark One’s jaw tightened and the muscle above flickered briefly before his expression relaxed and his gaze became much softer. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short, love,” he advised, twirling a section of her hair around his finger once more. “Fools have made you believe you have little else to offer, but I can see the power inside you… and I speak not of just your extraordinary magic.”

Emma’s thoughts were becoming muddled, his close proximity and the way his magic exuded a heady aura around them made her sway as she fought against its thrall.

“My magic,” she muttered while shaking the fog from her head and stepping around him to put some space between them. “Is that what you’re after? Because I already told you I won’t give it up.”

“I’m not asking you to give it up,” he told her. “I’m asking for your assistance.”

Emma’s brows shot up. “My assistance? What possible assistance could my magic offer that yours cannot?”

"As the moniker suggests, Dark One magic is well… dark,” he explained with a tone of satire. “I require light magic for a certain object I wish to awaken to its purpose.”

Emma crossed her arms over her chest and cast an accusatory look his way. “What object and purpose would that be?”

“Nothing nefarious, I assure you.” Emma lifted a dubious brow which made the man sigh. “No one but myself will be impacted by it, and I will compensate you for your time.” He strode forward, pressing into her personal space again. “Give me four months to train you so you can perform the necessary magic I need. Once our agreement is met, you can choose to return to your husband and lands, or…” He brushed her hair over her shoulder with his hook then rested his gaze back onto hers, “you can take your compensation to start a new life, free from that imbecile.”

Emma pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “And what will become of that imbecile?”

A dark, feral grin broke wide over his face. “Leave that to me, love. Do we have a deal?” Scrutinizing his words and the hand he extended towards her, Emma chewed on her lip and considered her options. Not that she had many. It was this, go back to Neal, or leave with nothing.

“Deal.”

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event? All the new CS content!!

I'm incredibly excited for another Dark!Hook story, and another from Hollye! Be sure to welcome her to this year's event!