#who is that man and why is he not your husband

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ cowboy ride or ring ? (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : max verstappen x norris! reader

summary: a move will test where the heart lies

tw : fluff, suggestive

fc : nailea devora

a/n : this was requested anonymously ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by norriz, max1, lilyhye and 74 others

wdcrider being a cowgirl for halloween because my riding skills have no complains

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chillijr why sing up for pornhub when the whole thing is right here

lordpercival you are going to get your account banned

wdcrider we will just do community service 💪🏻

max1 it’s meta not FIA

norriz CAN YOU LIKE NOT !?

norriz HOW ARE YOU AN INTROVERT !?

norriz MAx !? CONTROL YOUR FREAK

wdcrider how I feel knowing I am the only norris who gets to suck the verstappen dick

norriz AND I HAVE NO INTEREST IN HIM Y/N

norriz unless he lets me win the wdc, I don’t mind sucking

max1 ew

max1 you both are siblings fr

lilyhye but my girl is serving looks, SLAY MOMMY

wdcrider ITS SLAY COWGIRL

norizz ew, EW, eW, Ew

wdcrider telling mum about your 231 hookups

norizz EXCUSE ME !? I AM ALSO TELLING MUM

wdcrider about what? how I have one dick since like 4 years or that you can’t stay fixed on one ?

norriz HEY! I WAS COMMITED FEW TIMES

wdcrider ONLY TWICE, ONCE FOR LIKE A YEAR AND THE SECOND TIME FOR LIKE 3 MONTHS !?

norriz not my fault

wdcrider accept it, you don’t last with anyone for more than 5 days, surprised how you are with mclaren for so long

georgey calm down you two ratatouille rats, doesn’t lando’s recent situationship follow you ?

norriz fuck, bye , I don’t get married, it’s all on you dear sister

wdcrider well I am getting married because of you dear brother, so thank you 🤩

liked by norriz, lordoerceval, max1 and 103 others

wdcrider my man got me pink drink to show off my ring, what did yours do ?

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alexmieux mine didn’t get a FIA penalty 🤭

lilyhye mine crashed his car 😉

carvroom mine is obsessing over Lewis

rebecamour mine is jobless

chillijr I do have a seat at Williams.

wdcrider technically jobless

albono what do you mean all these years …?

colawithice yes alex, I am off to redbull

wdcrider I AM ADOPTING YOU COLAPINTO

colawithice MOMMY 🤓

max1 sorry, I am young to be a dad

wdcrider who asked you to be the dad?

colawithice mommy 😚

wdcrider it’s ok baby, you go beat him

liked by max1, lilyhye, chillijr and 64 others

wdcrider max said that he will only marry me if I finish my finals

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norriz great, you both are never marrying

norriz you pass any of your subjects and I am laying for your honeymoon

max1 well I am actually financially well off, so I can pay for it myself

wdcrider GO MY HUSBAND ! ! AND WAIT, LET HIM PAY

wdcrider I passed interior designing

norriz what bout the other 4 ?

wdcrider YOU SAID ANY

chillijr when is the wedding tho ?

wdcrider after yours and Rebecca

rebecamour 🤭🫶🏻

chillijr you really aren't getting married in this century

rebecamour the couch is waiting for you for the century

wdcrider blocked @ chillijr

wdcrider NO ONE TALKS TO MY WIFE LIKE THAT

wdcrider I WILL PUT A RING ON IT

rebecamour 😭🫶🏻

max1 return the one I gave then

wdcrider no refunds

liked by user1, ynverstappen, landonorris and 4,487,629 others

maxverstappen the one who gave me wings @ ynverstappen

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f1wags BREAKING ! FORMULA ONE WORLD CHAMPION MAX VERSTAPPEN IS MARRIED TO HIS LONG TIME GIRLFRIEND Y/N VERSTAPPEN. Currently no information is available as the couple seems to be very private about their relationship, the only picture which we could find of y/n is on alexandra mieux’s Instagram from 2021 when her account was private.

view comments

user1 and I oop-

user2 well, that’s enough Instagram for today

user3 HELLOOO!?

user4 MAX YOU CANT DO THIS !?

user5 ITS LANDO'S SISTER !?

user6 oh god, the fights-

user7 MAX BAGGED THE NORRIS SISTER !?

user8 HOW IS MAX ALIVE ?

user9 Max may beat him in f1, but in life Lando will beat him up

user10 the amount of plot twists -

user11 now imagine saying Franco got the rebull seat

redbullracingf1 yes.

user11 BAHAHAH WHAT !?

user12 STOP, ENOUGH NEWS TO DIGEST FOR A DAY

[emphistic]

Toji is living proof of the phrase "Don't judge a book by its cover." Because, how do you mean to tell me, this cold-blooded, ruthless man, is whom you call your husband? The father to your son? The blueprint for Little Megumi? You want to tell me, that, Toji Fushiguro, the man who used to kill for a living, is the same man who gets bossed around by a toddler?

Preposterous.

Originally, ten minutes ago, Toji was supposed to be sitting on the couch, nursing a bottle of soda, and watching the sports game he had been waiting for all week, but what was he doing instead?

Reading a bedtime story.

Megumi had dragged his father up the stairs, forced him to sit on the little frog-shaped stool next to his bed (which was way too small to fit a grown man), and read Room on the Broom—a story about a witch and her impromptu companions.

"C'mon, 'Gumi," began a hesitant Toji, as the stool continuously creaked under his weight; "it's past Halloween. Don't you want to read something else?"

"No! Wan' read Room on the Broom!"

"Hey. That is not any way to speak to your father, buddy."

Megumi crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back and falling against the pillows on his bed. "Hmph. I know why you don't want to read Room on the Broom."

"Oh, really? You do now?"

"Yeah," Megumi scoffed. "You're just mad that you wouldn't fit on the broom."

[bi-writes]

WIP !!!!!!!! what do i call it since its thursday? tease it thursday?

John leans forward. “You need to understand something here, Simon is a rabid dog,” he spits. “And sometimes I let him off his lead, but this isn’t like anything I’ve had to deal with. I need you to call him back here.” He scoots closer. “England needs you to call him back here. To me.”

You narrow your eyes a little.

“If I do this for you, my king, then you owe me,” you whisper.

“Kings do not owe their subjects.”

“Quite right, Your Majesty,” you agree, picking up your napkin and dropping it onto the table. You stand, giving him a polite curtsy. “But I am not doing this as your subject.”

“Everything you do is as my subject.”

“You put your entire right to the throne on the back of one man,” you say softly. “Simon is why…he’s why your counsel listen to you. He’s why your people are free from famine, why…why your taxes get paid on time, why your kingdom is still standing, no thanks to your father who wasted this place’s fortune on women and liquor.” You shake your head. “You have an eye for conquest, Your Majesty, but you lack the execution of any plan you conjure.”

“Where…Where did you learn to speak to men this way?” John scoffs. “I am your king.”

“You are king because my husband made it so,” you correct him gently. “And Simon is a loyal dog, and that is good for your sake, because if he had any desire for your seat, it would be his.” You come closer, your heels sounding, and John glares down at you. “But he is not your dog anymore. He’s mine.”

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Don't Panic

The lads men finding you asleep with your child in your arm while you were trying to feed them. You're a first time mom you're not going to be perfect. A/N: This is a mommy mc if you're uncomfortable with the idea of mommy mc this is your warning [Requested by: who-mentioned-rhys-larsen]

Summary: You were a first time mom and motherhood was the hardest hood you’ve ever lived in. Even with you husband doing his fatherly duties you were still exhausted. You checked the time on your watch and noticed it was feeding time. You hoisted your baby into your arms and sat down on the bed to breast-feed. You blinked rapidly trying to keep yourself awake “I’ll nap when you’re done eating” You said more so to yourself rather than the baby when suddenly …. you woke up. When did you doze off? The sun was up last time you checked now it's dark out. Where’s the baby? Oh shit where’s the baby!?

Zayne

Zayne came home to find you curled up with your child who was snoring quietly while you held them snuggly in your arms. He picked your babygirl up careful not to wake you and moved her to the adjoining nursery. She squirmed a little at the loss of warmth, but calmed down once Zayne swaddled her.

A few hours later…

MC: ZAYNE!

Zayne: Darling stop yelling before you wake the baby

MC: Where is she?? I fell asleep while feeding her oh fuck im a terrible mom

Zayne grabs you by the shoulders

Zayne: Breathe my love she’s fine I put her in her bed

MC: *teary-eyed* did I hurt her?

You dropped your gaze feeling your heart shatter at the thought of hurting your child

Zayne: You had her held safely in your arms she’s fine go look

You rushed to the nursery to find your babygirl in a peaceful slumber. A wave of relief washed through you causing you to fall to your knees.

MC: I won't let that happen again

Zayne: Go get some sleep my love you’ve earned it I'll take care of the baby

MC: but-

Zayne: You’ll be no good sleep-deprived go rest

Rafayel

MC: WHERE ARE THEY?

You rush out into the living room after tearing your room apart looking for your babies

Rafayel: Quiet down. Why are you yelling?

MC: I CANT FIND THE TWINS

Rafayel: You lost our kids?

MC: I-I accidentally fell asleep and and and when I woke up they were gone I-I-I omg im the worst mom alive

Rafayel: Are these two not ours?

You walk around the couch to find them each fast asleep, one laying in his lap and the other sprawled out next to him on a blanket.

MC: I should punch you in the jaw fuck I think I just had a heart attack thats not funny

Rafayel: I found you asleep in the bedroom with your titty out

MC: Well thats embarrassing

Rafayel: It was a nice surprise … This baby shark was trying to climb on you when I came in

Rafayel said pointing to your baby boy who was drooling all over his lap

Rafayel: and this little sea snail was curled up next to you

Rafayel placed his hand on the tummy of your babygirl

MC: I’m glad they're safe

You sighed, relieved that your babies were fine

Rafayel: You should probably go do that pumping thing you always do …. you’re leaking

MC: Shit!

Rafayel: My little leaky faucet

MC: Please put your top and bottom lip together

Xavier

You sat up quickly almost head butting Xavier who was standing over you

Xavier: Whoa you should change your shirt you have spit up on this one

MC: Where's the baby!?

Xavier: I just put him in his crib

MC: Is he okay? I didn’t roll over on him did I? Was he breathing?

Xavier: Yes. No. and Yes.

Xavier began removing your shirt

MC: Wait wait I need to see our son

Xavier: Okay but lets change your shirt first

MC: No—I need—-Xav move

You end up wrestling Xavier who’s just trying to get you out of your soiled shirt. He manages to slip it off and you dart out of the room with no shirt. You quietly make your way in the nursery and see your baby boy sleeping soundly. Man he looks so much like his dad it’s crazy.

Xavier: Here. *pulls a shirt over your head*

MC: Thanks Xav Im sorry I was just so scared

Xavier: I understand ... now according to Jenna since the baby is down you should get some rest too let’s go

MC: Are you going to nap with me?

Xavier: Jeremiah was in the living room when you ran through to get to our son

MC: Did he see.....?

Xavier: He won't remember even if he did

MC: JEREMIAH IM SORRY

Sylus

MC: WHERE IS SHE??

Kieran: Calm down

Luke: You’ll wa—

MC: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN

Sylus: She’s right here

You turn to see Sylus holding your baby girl in his arms. She's playfully tugging on his necklace while he continuously moves her little hand away.

MC: Mommy is so sorry baby …. did I hurt her? I didn’t mean to fall asleep

Sylus: You’re going to make yourself sick with all this worrying

MC: I just fell asleep with our child in my arms that seems like grounds to worry Sylus

Sylus: She was fast asleep on your chest and you had your arm wrapped around her

MC: It’s still dangerous

Sylus: and yet she’s fine live and learn sweetie everything will be fine

MC: It’s like my third day out here okay im still learning this mom shit

Sylus: Rule number 1 don’t cuss in front of the baby

MC: Oh shut up

Sylus: Rule number 2 don’t be rude to her dad

MC: Anything else?

Sylus: Rule number 3 dont forget to pump

You look down and realize the two wet patches on your shirt

MC: Shit!

Sylus: Rule number 1—

MC: Shut it!

[jothb]

This post is like a honeypot for the type of guy I had hoped went extinct in 2018.

Men's liberation from what? The gay men need queer liberation, the black men need black liberation, the working class men need liberation of the proletariat. These are specific classes that men can belong to, which must be liberated. But men as a class in of itself - what do they need to be liberated from? What is this burden that the leftists and the feminists have placed upon them that must be fought against?

Feminists have failed men, because they would have never considered that in their own liberation they have broken the promise of servitude that men suffer so much for. I could have never figured that one out! Who could have known that the reason for men to feel betrayed by the left, is because the feminist and workers movements of the past decades have made it harder for them to own women as property, with current movements threatening to rid them of the power and authority they still have. I thought it was because lesbians were mean to them!

This entire post is just the whining of a man that thinks the oppressed class must take into account the feelings of every individual member of the oppressor class. He's complaining that feminist spaces are female dominated - what a shocker! He says that the "left" gives men nothing but suffering, (and I must admit I am quite eager for that to be the case) but as I look for a "misandrist left" I cannot seem to find one! There sure are plenty examples of women saying things along the lines of "Men Suck", but these are often said not as a theory, but as a slogan (besides perhaps the TERF movements, but to take their word for the movement being Misandrist would be as to believe that the Nazis really did just hate bankers). Instead I find analysis, some good, some shallow - like in every movement, trying to explain the material reasons for Patriarchy to exist, and how they might be changed. It feels either deeply ignorant or purposely dishonest to claim these works never take the male perspective into account. One is required at least in some form to describe the social pressures that shape the misogynistic behaviour. If we understand the material conditions that shape our men, we can change them for the better. And although removing and changing those conditions, those forces would lead to your "Male liberation from the forces of comphet", make no mistake - it should be focused and done as a liberation of women. Bringing women into the workforce en masse did, eventually, lead to men feeling less emasculated over having a working class wife, but it was done as a means of liberating women from the total financial dependency on their husbands. Would saying that it, eventually, lessened those forces, those societal pressures of Masculinity be incorrect? Not really, but it was not the goal!

And in this you find, that ultimately, all calls that feminists focus on "Men's Rights" and "Men's liberation" are in their nature demands that the feminist movements cease trying to upend the patriarchy. For it would be analogous to a factory owner demanding the working class not forget about his bourgeois interests in their socialist revolution.

You have yourself described quite simply why the struggle will get harder. As men realise that the looming threat of feminist thought and workers movements would kill not only the promise of female servitude, but also all hope of male authority over women, their reaction will get stronger, and more of them will join the anti-communists and anti-feminists. For this we must be prepared, and not spend time humouring the Nazis and the MRA

Also I did really laugh at the bit where you said "neckbeard is a slur"

On the topic of Leftist Andrew Tate and other mythical creatures of the liberal mind

[risustravelogue]

Welcome, Little One

◐ summary ◑

It's the birth of your and his child.

◐ featuring ◑

Husband!Wriothesley, Husband!Alhaitham (separate), fem!reader

◐ tags & warnings ◑

Childbirth (DUH), fluffy fluff. A bit(?) self-indulgent. Wriothesley has a baby boy, while Alhaitham has a baby girl.

◐ a/n ◑

I think I'm having a baby fever.

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

If staring daggers into a blabbering businessman is counted as work, then the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide is currently busy.

Very busy.

To be fair, he has been waiting on news from the hospital regarding the birth of his child—your child.

You have been waiting for this little miracle for years now—it took you no small amount of convincing your husband to even start trying. And after he agreed to try, it took another one and a half years before you successfully got pregnant.

And now, the life both of you created together is about to arrive.

Alas, work called him while the two of you were waiting for the baby’s birth. The Iudex, with a heavy heart, had to take Wriothesley away from your side. Apparently, a businessman heard that the Duke is on the surface and demanded to meet in person today, else he’d cut off supplies to the Fortress.

So here the Duke is, having to listen to the man bragging about how he’s inheriting his father’s business and such. Wriothesley taps his feet onto the marble floor and clicks his tongue.

“Get to the point,” he growls. “I have little patience for your games. What do you want?”

The businessman replies with a sly grin. “Why, I only want to continue the arrangement between my business and yours!” he puffs. “I’ve heard that you are an adept businessman yourself, Your Grace. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to get so many Clockwork Mekas produced in a year. You must have—”

“Get. To. The point.”

“What I mean is—”

The door of the Iudex’s office suddenly swings open. Sedene comes in, shouting Wriothesley’s title while running.

“Calm down, Sedene,” Neuvillette shushes. “What is it?”

The Melusine turns to Wriothesley, gesturing with excitement.

”I got a call, Your Grace. Your wife—”

That’s all Wriothesley needs to hear. He stands up and runs out of the office, of the Palais Mermonia, all the way to the hospital downtown.

He arrives as you are ushered out in a wheelchair by a nurse, cradling a small, cloth-wrapped thing in your arms. His eyes widen when he realizes that you are holding a baby.

Your baby.

He whispers, then calls out your name. You lift your eyes, gaze meeting icy blue, and smile.

“Look, there’s Daddy,” you whisper to your newborn. Wriothesley slowly steps until he’s in front of you, and kneels on the floor to embrace his family.

“You have a baby boy,” you say to your husband, your smile widening. “Say hi.”

“Hi,” he coos. “Hi, baby. Daddy’s here.”

Wriothesley glances up to meet your gaze, and you can see tears welling up in his eyes. He leans in to give your lips a sweet kiss.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be by your side while you delivered,” he apologizes.

“Mm. No need for that, you know. All’s well,” you hum. He closes the distance between your lips again.

“I know. Thank you.”

Your husband gives his baby boy a kiss on the forehead. The baby yawns and coos, and a smile blooms on the Duke’s lips.

“I love you,” he says. “Both of you.”

It’s highly unusual to see the Acting Grand Sage pace around.

He’s usually sitting cross-legged, face buried in a book that has caught his attention, or behind his desk, lazily scribbling on official documents needing approval or review. Sure, he runs for morning exercise, but anxiously pacing around is definitely not his style.

Who can fault him, though? He’s waiting for his child to be born, after all.

Luckily, the two of you were able to rent your own room in the Bimarstan to wait for the baby’s arrival, so he doesn’t bother the other patients. You watch your husband pacing from beside your bed to the entrance of the room, pausing a second in front of the door as if he wants to leave, but he always comes back to your side to shoot a glare at your very pregnant belly—only to sigh and repeat the motions again.

“How are you feeling?” Alhaitham asks, finally.

“Still fine, love,” you say, holding back a chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll know when it starts.”

He frowns and huffs. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and he shifts his weight on his feet.

“I’m not ready,” he admits.

You smile, gesturing for him to take your hand. He obliges, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing tight. You pull him closer and give the back of his hand a peck.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” you say. “I believe in you.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but—”

Before he finishes speaking, you feel something flowing and your sheets getting wet.

“Uh, Haitham?”

“Yes?”

“I think my water just broke.”

—

Your screams reverberate in the delivery room. One of Alhaitham’s hands squeezes yours, while the other rests on your sweaty forehead. His expression is one of horror—he’s never heard you scream this loud. He’s read that childbirth is very painful for the mother, but seeing you undergo the experience is a truly harrowing thing.

“You can do this. I’m here,” he whispers, thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I’m here.”

You squeeze his hand and push with a pained groan. A baby’s cry echoes through the air.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor exclaims. “Congratulations!”

The nurses collectively sigh in relief. The doctor wipes down the baby and wraps her in a soft cloth, then puts her in your arms. You can feel your husband squeezing your hand even tighter as he looks down at his baby with a soft gaze.

“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m… a father now.”

The little girl opens her green eyes, and although she cannot see her parents yet, she smiles.

Alhaitham feels tears roll down his cheeks.

“She’s beautiful,” he breathes. He braves himself to caress his newborn daughter’s cheek.

She’s so soft.

A smile grows on your husband’s lips as he leans down to kiss the baby’s forehead.

“Hi, little one,” he whispers. “Welcome to the world.”

© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

@arts-bloody-gloves

[trulyy-yourzz]

Hii mami

how you doing today ? I have an idea

can you make one where r is Billie’s teacher and has a husband (shes secretly a lesbian)but Billie doesn’t gaf and wants her but r keeps saying no so one day Billie pulls up at r house pretending having tutoring lessons with her and ends up fucking r at her house while her husband is here (they don’t get caught btw)

im in no rush honey

take ur time

ilyyy

♡smut. - B.E x fem!reader

Hi babyy! I was wondering where you had disappeared too. But back again with the wonderful ideas I see 🤭 ilyy! Enjoy love

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You loved your husband. You really did. But the journey through marriage was the one thing that made you realize sudden... changes.

For a few years now, you have taught physiology for the longest. It was one of your favorites back when you were in university. Even though you often got clowned for it.

But you especially loved teaching that class because of one particular girl..

Billie.

She was everyone's favorite. They loved her for who she was and how she was with others. There was not one negative thing about her... she was perfect from her dark silky hair to her diamond like eyes to her odd but very attractive choice of clothing.

You tried to push her away. You really did. But the more she interacted with you, the more attraction you felt towards her. It was like a magnetic pull you couldn't intercept. A strong knot you couldn't untie.

You were at your desk, lost in thought while everyone was too focused on an assignment or having their own conversations.

You stared at your laptop, biting on your nail as you scrolled through your emails mindlessly. You had applied to teach at a more professional position at your school and hadn't gotten an email back yet when you should've around this time.

You rested your face in the palm of your hands, sighing deeply.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, a soft voice calling your name. So you looked up and she smiled when you saw her. Her smile was a grin that challenged the boundaries of her face. And bright eyes that practically hypnotized you without the entiention to.

"Hi babe, feeling okay?" You loved the way she talked to you... loved the way she called you those cute little nicknames in that arousing tone that turned you on more than it should've. You had a husband.

You had everything any other woman could want.. a big house, a stable job that paid good money, and a loving man who cherished and spoiled you every single day. Then why wasn't it enough? Why weren't you satisfied.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Thank you, Billie." She tilted her head and the grin on her face more prominent as she leaned in closer, her hands planted on the desk for support.

"You seem stressed babe... I know a thing or two to help with that."

You swallowed. Hard. You felt your body weaken at the intense eye contact between you two. The tension in the air felt more and more dominant as the time passed by. It was like she could see right through you. Undressing you with her eyes, slowly. painfully.

"Uhm..." And before you could finish your sentence, the bell rang. dismissing all students from their classes. Thank god.

After hours of reviewing papers and driving through the flooded streets from the pouring rain, you'd finally made it home. Your husband was still in his office around this time, nost likely fallen asleep. He was pretty strict about not being bothered, so you did your best to leave him alone.

He would stay in his office for hours and come out early in the morning. This was an everyday thing, so you often slept in the room alone. It was sad, but you were understanding.

You finally took a hot shower, feeling in need of one all day. It was around 6 p.m., so you still had time before you'd head to bed. You threw on a black silk nightgown and walked out into the living room, plopping onto the couch and sighing deeply.

You were lost in thought once again, and your mind ran back to the interaction with Billie earlier that day.

The way she looked at you had been replaying in your had all day. You could feel the intimacy through her gaze. It was hot. It was seductive.

You took a deep breath and snaked your hand to the lace of the bottom of your nightgown, tugging at it slightly as you bit down on your lip. This was wrong. But you couldn't help it. She made you like this. You were fine without sex in your marriage, or so you thought, for all your husband did was work. You did try to at least have a little action with him. But his excuse was always 'I'm busy'.

All that built-up sexual frustration multiplied as each day went by. You felt unwanted. Like you weren't enough for him.

You slid the fabric covering your pussy to the side, revealing all the wetness that had built up on your underwear.

Your head fell back against the cushion of the couch as you slid a finger inside your dripping cunt. You squirmed and let out an unsatisfied whine. It wasn't enough. You tried adding another finger, but before you could, you were interrupted by the doorbell that echoed throughout the house.

Your body shot up, and you fixed yourself before walking over to the front of the house. You opened the door, and your eyes widened at the sight of Billie right in front of you.

"Hi beautiful." She smiled. "Billie? How did you...?" She chuckled as her eyes ran down your figure, noticing the thin fabric that covered absolutely nothing. It was short and very inviting. And the fact that you hadn't been wearing a bra had her questioning what she even came here for. It took every bone in her body not to just pounce on you right then and there.

You noticed her checking you out, and you gasped, realizing you had been showing quite a lot of skin. "Oh, uh... one second." She smirked, and you closed the door behind you. Running to your room to grab a sweater and throwing it over your head.

Billie smiled at you once you'd open the door again, inviting her in. "Sorry about that..." you said nervously. "No worries. The night dress was cute, though. What a shame you changed"

You felt your body heat up. You were embarrassed... just a minute ago, your hands were in places they shouldn't have been. touching yourself to the thoughts of her.

And now she was on your couch, sitting in the same spot you were just fucking yourself on. Or at least attempting to.

You eyed the door to your husband's office, clearing your throat before you spoke. "So.. to what do I owe the pleasure?" She turned her head to look at you, standing in the kitchen. Billie bit down on her lip before she stood up. "Well... I just needed some help."

Your heart began to race, every heart beat louder than the next as she got closer with every step towards you. "The assignment from earlier today. I don't quite understand it?"

You swallowed. Hard. She looked so hot. Sweatpants hanging low on her waist, just enough for her tattoo and colored boxers to peak through, a black hoodie that was slightly cropped. Oh, and you can't forget about her messy dark hair flipped to the side. 'Fuck. me.' You thought to yourself. Figuratively but mostly literally of course.

"What was there not to understand? I'm pretty sure I explained it pretty well." Billie leaned over the counter across from you, biting down on her lip as she smiled.

"Really? I guess I was just distracted." For a second, you got lost in her iris. Distracted by the slight glimmer in her eyes from the light, making them pop. You took a deep breath. "Best pay attention then, love."

She had to physically hold back from pretty much dicking you down on your own counter. The sudden nickname making her body shiver as she groaned. "Or you could help me now?"

You raised your brows, nodding your head slowly. "And what do I get in return?" You smugged, licking your lips as you looked at her own. Dammit. This was your student you were flirting with. But it was so hard to resist her when she talked to you like this.

"Why ruin the surprise pretty? You'll find out soon enough. " You exhaled, mind wondering to all the types of 'surprises' she could be talking about. "Why not tell me now.. I'm impatient." No. You wanted her to show you.

Your bottom lip stuck out, pouting before you walked around the kitchen island and stood next to her, softening your voice. "Think of this as... extra credit?"

Fuck it. She wanted you now. Show you exactly what she'd been wanting to do to you for so long. Forget the fact that you had a husband. You didn't love him anyway. Romantically, at least.

She grabbed your hips, pinning you in front of her, the counter digging into your back before she lifted you up, sitting your body down carefully onto the cold marble. "For all the hard work I'm about to do? Extra credit would be very much appreciated."

She tugged on your sweatshirt, urging you to take it off before sliding her hand up your thigh. Dangerously close to your heat... exactly where you'd wanted her. "Take this off for me baby." She whispered. And without another thought, you did as you were told, yanking the hoodie off of your body and now exposing the black satin gown you were wearing earlier. It was getting too hot anyway. Especially with her here in front of you.

Billie hummed, pleased with how fast you'd responded to her. So precious. She slid her hand farther up your thigh, pulling at the elastic of the fabric that covered your cunt and sliding it off of your legs. You whimpered, feeling the cool breeze between your legs.

"Shh. Wouldn't want your husband to hear. Would we now?" You shook your head. She shoved your underwear in the pocket of her sweatpants before picking you up and bringing you to whatever room she could find. Preferably yours. The thought of fucking you in the master bedroom you shared with your husband was fucking hot.

She carefully tossed you onto the cushion of the bed, lying on your back as she crawled up to you, hovering over your body. "You have no clue how long I've wanted to do this."

You brought your hands up, wrapping them around her neck as you pulled her closer, tangling your fingers in her hair. "Better get to it then." She smirked devishly. Impressed by your sudden boldness.

"Yes ma'am." She maneuvered her way down to your heat, grabbing onto the bottom of your nightgown before lifting it up to your mouth. "Here. Try not to be too loud mama." You nodded your head, biting down onto the fabric.

You couldn't help but squirm beneath her. Like you were a woman stripped of your own pleasure. You hadn't felt the warmth of someone else's touch in so long. But now here you were... so needy and desperate for her to touch you. Even her breath on your skin made you shiver.

"Brace yourself." She said. And that made you think about every little thing she was about to do to you. Mind racing on what she would and wouldn't do. And she could tell, but she didn't want you thinking about it. Just wanted you to feel it. Feel her. And before you knew it, she licked a stripe up your folds. Slowly. soaking in the taste of you.

Your body jumped, surprised by the sudden contact. You grabbed onto the sheets and tried your hardest to hold back the guttiest moan ever.

Billie kissed your thigh and soothed your skin with her soft hands. She wanted to make sure you were okay. You whimpered and ran your hands through her hair, taking a deep breath.

"Please.."

"Patience, baby. Don't worry, I'll make sure you feel reaaal good."

You felt something press against your cunt, something small but hard. Before you could look down to see what it was, you felt it vibrate, making you ball up her hair in your fist. "Oh my god."

You heard her chuckle before pushing it between your folds. "Found it just lying on the floor by your desk. Convenient, dont you think?" You couldn't even respond. The feeling of her breath against your pussy as she pushed the vibrator deeper into you with her fingers sending you into a bliss. All you could see were stars, your vision blurring as you fluttered your eyes closed.

You bit down harder onto the gown, your body quivering. Chest heaving. "Feels good?" You nodded your head, processing her words as best as you could.

"God, you look so beautiful. I always thought you would, but this.. fuck." She sat up, leaving the vibrator to do the work as she slid down her sweatpants, throwing them to the side to retrieve later. You looked down, noticing the bulge in her boxers.

No fucking way.

She took off the boxers, revealing the fake dick she had strapped to her waist. You couldn't help but stare. She had that on the whole time. From the moment she was at your front door.

"Bille, i dont.." – "You tell me you don't want it. Then I won't give it to you. But once I start, there's no stopping."

She gulped. Would something that big even fit inside? It'd been too long, you weren't very confident. "Okay.." You nodded your head, reassuring her that you wanted to continue, and she tilted her head, humming.

She spit where her cock lined up with your enterance, groaning before she pushed inside slowly. Now that.. that was the hottest thing you've ever fucking seen.

"Wait! Billie the vibra–" and before you could finish your sentence, she was fully inside you, down to the brim. Pushing the vibrator farther into your pussy.

"Woops." She watched as your eyes rolled back, your hand gripping onto her wrist as she held onto your waist, pulling you closer as if she wasn't deep enough. She wanted to be close to you. Closer than ever before... She wanted to become one.

The nightgown fell from your mouth as you moaned out for her. "Quiet, my love." She said breathlessly.

It was so sensual. She treated you better than he ever could. Loved you better than he ever could. It ignited a fire inside you that you never thought existed. It felt so good. Burned so good.

"More– please.. please." She shifted her body, moving herself somehow closer than she already was. She threw your leg over her shoulder, and pushed her fingers inside your pussy, reaching for the vibrator before sliding it out carefully. Trying not to hurt you.

Once she did, she re-entered her cock inside your cunt, which was practically drowning it in your juices. She was hitting your walls at a new angle, causing you to squeeze around her and let out a soft moan.

"As you wish." She groaned, pulling out slowly and thrusting herself deeper. Harder. The new angle only adding to the pleasure. Who would've thought this woman could fuck you ten times better than your husband ever could.

She thrusted her cock inside you at an unbelievable pace, as if she was some kind of sex god. You reached up for her, wanting her to hold you. Wanting to feel her warmth radiate onto you. So she pulled you up, sitting you on her lap as you rode her, causing her to hit you at, once again, an entirely different angle.

Your head fell onto her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her neck as you masked in her scent. Only the wet sounds of your body connecting in the most lustful ways ever bouncing off the walls of the room.

You could feel your climax approaching. And so could Billie. Your walls clenched around her cock, making it more difficult for her to fuck you properly.

"You got it. Come for me, baby. I know you can." Your body convulsed as you gripped onto her shoulders, nails digging into her skin, causing her to hiss. She figured it would leave a mark, but who cares. She just wanted to make you feel good.

"Fuuuck..!" You choked on a moan, bringing your head up as you pushed your lips onto hers, tongues fighting for dominance. Eventually getting you to surrender, she bit down on your lip and brought her hand down to your clit, pressing down as she traced figure eights, luring your climax closer.

Your mouth hung open, resting your forehead on hers as you came on her cock, it felt like you were a virgine coming for the first time. You surely weren't. But that's just how good she made you feel.

She soothed your back and continued her repeating motion on your clit, helping you ride out your climax as you grinded ontop of her. Your body tensed and shuddered, eyes tearing up as she lifted your head and wiped them with her thumb.

"You okay?" You just nodded your head, still trying to catch your breath, your body still stuck between the realm of pleasure and reality.

She kissed your forehead before lying you back down onto the bed. "I'll be right back, okay?" You raised your brows, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched her walk away into your bathroom.

A few minutes later, she came out with a warm cloth and sat down next to you, smiling before she began wiping you down. "Thank you." She just laughed softly, making you feel a little embarrassed even though you were a grown ass woman. She just had that power over you. "You're welcome, my love."

You felt your eye lids slowly flutter closed. You tried to fight it, but the feeling of her hand soothing over your body with a cloth made you feel warm... and quite tired. She placed the palm of her hand on your cheek, caressing softly with her thumb before she leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your lips. And a few minutes later, you were fast asleep.

"Rest well, my love."

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Notes: i actually kinda hate this... but i wasn't gonna rewrite the whole thing. AGAIN.. Hopefully, you like it more than i do😅 enjoy my loves💝

[itstheghostofmypast]

A Goodfella's Moondance

Mafia AU Choi San x Reader

Summary: He waited for her to waltz into his arms, and she did. He felt her jitter and shiver under his touch, much like how he did the same on her love. He had found someone to love and cherish, someone who kept his fragile morality in check, someone who he could call a lover, a wife, a weakness.

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Rating: PG- 13

Word Count: 2.4 K

Est. Read Time: 12 min

Warnings: Blood, kidnapping, murder, guns.

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Song: Moondance by Micheal Bublé

“Do you feel better?” His soft whisper gently pulled her back to consciousness, back to the comfort of the warm, soft, cotton that they were cocooned within, succumbing to the sleep that lay heavy in their bones.

“Mhmmm…” 

Ever so slowly, her body turned to the other side, her back that was once pressed against his warm chest, grazing the subtle cotton of one of the many blankets he had heaped upon them in his frenzy of bringing her some form of comfort, trying to suppress the jitters that rocked through her even though she said she was fine. Hands pressed against his chest, vibrating with each beat of his ever loving heart, her head tilted up on her pillow, meeting his tender gaze, eying the small smile that only she got to see, that too behind closed doors.

“Good.”

With that hanging above them, the man wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, forcing her to become one with him, though he could tell by the way her arms had looped around his slender waist, his action was more than welcome. 

Little did he know this side of his, this gentleness, this care, this attentiveness was what had her losing her grasp on the bitter reality of the world, perhaps that's why last night she was unable to figure out how the guy asking her for directions was actually going to kidnap her. 

One moment a man approaches her while she sat at the bus stop, after her lover had texted her how he would be unable to pick her up from the hospital tonight, also canceling their date because of some ‘Urgent Business.’ The next thing she knew was how she woke up in the trunk of the man who had approached her at the bus stop, asking her the directions to the hospital as he had to go see is sick wife- sue her for being a caring person, nurse or not, it's not like she wasn't going to help him. 

The fallacy of rationality lies within situations such as these, while he had taught her a variety of methods of escaping, a contractual instruction enforced by Park Seonghwa himself, in the heat of the moment she had forgotten it all, her core memory allowing her to do no more than to whimper out his name, “San.”

It wasn't till she had felt the car stop that her anxiety morphed into aggression kicking against the roof of the truck, while she tried to move her tied hands, removing the blindfold to look around, only to freeze when the trunk opened, staring up at the man in horror.

“Well, aren't you in a lot of trouble, missy.” The fox featured man smiled at her, one that had her let out a relieved sigh, though she tried to ignore the splatted red across his face, dripping down his chin and onto his crisp white shirt, which was evident when he helped her out, pulling her closer to have her sit on the closed trunk, “You okay?”

She could only nod at the fact that, physically, perhaps she was, but she wouldn't be so sure about her mental status, never had this happened before and truly, for the first time in her life had she felt afraid and alone, a feeling her husband had long rid off from her mind, body and soul.

“Good, because San isn't, he's furio-”

The loud bang cut him off, for a split second his eyes flickered to the man who was standing across the car, in front of it, staring at something, or someone on the ground, before moving back to the shivering woman. With a loud sigh he shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shaking shoulders, and called out, “YAH! DID YOU REMOVE YOUR SILENCER?”

The taller man grunted in response, pushing up his glasses, not bothered by the spots of blood staining the glass, in fact the red calmed him down a bit, a reminder of him punishing the bastard who thought this woman was an easy target. 

Wooyoung watched his friend walk over to them, fully aware of how San had removed the silencer on purpose, wanting everyone in the vicinity and the perpetrator to know what happens when you try to come into his personal life.

With a nod he motioned for Wooyoung to sit in the car, disposing the body wasn't part of the plan, Seonghwa had agreed when San had requested to “let me make an example out of him”, so much so that the husband of the woman who was shaking like a leaf currently, had also brought his infamous bat with him, which only reminded his friends of how this was personal was him.

With each gloved hand placed on either side of her on the trunk, he looked down at her, she peaked up at him through her lashes, unsure of what he was going to say or do, perhaps he would be upset with her, disappointed by how she was unable to fend for herself even though he had prepared her for a situation like this, his friends had prepared her for a situation like this. At the end of the day, they were from two different worlds, she would heal people and well he would…what if tonight he finally realised that and-

“I'm sorry.”

Taking off his gloves he placed them beside her before pulling out a pocket knife from his breast pocket, flicking it open as he began to work on the ropes around her wrists. He frowned at the roughness of the threads, mumbling things like, “This may bruise”, “The f*cker didn't need to tighten them so much.”, “Wish I could kill him all over again.”

Once he was done, he tossed the rope aside, gently taking her scratched wrists in his hands, before lifting her wrist up to his lips as he placed a tender kiss on the reddened skin, repeating the motion of love with her other one before looking at her with a somber flare in his eyes, “I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time.” He should have been more careful, he should have ensured she was safe, it was his job to keep her safe. And he stood there, in blood and tears, seeking her forgiveness, unaware of how the woman was falling even more for her gentle giant of a husband.

“Seonghwa said you can't leave the house without protection anymore.” He mumbled, the bass in his sleep lusted voice making her squeeze him closer, not that he would mind. 

His own hand had begun to aimlessly trail down her spine, only to slide back up to complete the cycle, thinking to himself a moment before he continued, “Hongjoong has assigned a few men…though I'll be around you whenever I'm free. The shipment is late anyway, and he's having Yunho and Mingi deal with it, so I'm all yours for the coming few days.”

“Okay…”

San blinked at her hushed response, it was evident she was elsewhere, or she was still a bit too shaken to respond coherently. Either way, with the gun stashed beneath his pillow and his lover in his arms to protect, he began to formulate a way of protecting her 24/7. Naturally, he couldn't always be there himself nor could his brothers. How much did he trust his men? What if he got her a personal gun or a-

“Sannie?”

His train of thought derailed at her calling, pulling back a bit to glance down at the only reason why he hadn't tipped off the cliff of his primitive instincts, hand pressing flat against her back as he nodded, “Yes, dove?”

“Can you sing for me?”

Could he sing? Of course he could. Did he sing often? No, not really. In fact, she was the newest addition to the only other people who knew his secret, that the right hand man of Ateez, the cold blooded killer trained and raised by Park Seonghwa himself could harmonise with the very same angels that stood at the gates of Heaven, waiting to reject his entrance.  

“What would you like to hear?”

Giving her a small smile he slowly pulled away, sitting up and resting his back against the cushioned headrest of the king sized bed, picking up his glasses from the nightstand and placing them on the bridge of his nose. He turned to glance at her, admiring the way she looked up at him with awe, it was truly a blessing to have an angel such as herself admire a creature like him, willing to bathe in the simmering blood of his brutality, willing to swallow the bitter truth of his existence, willing to embrace the carcass in which once his humanity once flourished. 

“Umm…” slipping the covers off herself she sat up, tugging at the strings of his hoodie that she wore, slowly moving closer and straddling him, looking up at him with a blush ever so subtle, “Moondance?”

A hearty laugh broke past his pout, the bass of his laughter bouncing off the cold walls of the room, blocking out the soft chippers of the early birds outside. If she was being honest, she's sure everyone who was trying to sleep could hear him right now, considering everyone did retire to their rooms after she had come home; have Jongho check her vitals, watch her husband get verbally abused by Hongjoong for being careless, have Seonghwa make her promise to never use public transport again, give Yeosang the entire details of the night so he could ‘take care of the mother company’, eye Yunho who took her husband aside to give him a pep talk after his sulking and be force fed by Mingi who insisted that “You burn more calories being kidnapped than an hour on a treadmill”, all the while having Wooyoung make dinner and yell at them for being noisy- ironic. 

“What's so funny?” She asked, her hands cupping his face before she slipped off his glasses, frowning at the blood splattered on the glass, why didn't he clean this off. And just like that she tilted to her side, reaching over to grab a tissue from the nightstand, feeling him quickly grab her by the waist so she wouldn't fall over.

“Careful there, dove.” He mumbled pulling her back up onto him, watching her try to clean off the dried blood, trying to hold back the urge to crush her with his love, “It's fine- oh.”

“It's not, dirty glasses stress the eyes,” cutting him off she gently slipped the glasses back onto the face of the owner, giving him a smile before getting comfortable on him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she placed her head on the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath, the lingering memories having her latch onto him for comfort. 

San watched her go about as she pleased, much like how she often did, not that he'd ever mind. Once she was settled, nestled against him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his against the headboard as he sighed. It was evident that last night had taken a toll on her, but what he learnt from experience was that eventually you get over it, become numb to the bitter memory, usually with the help of a distraction or a friend or two. It was never his intention for her to feel this way, in fact, from the moment he had left his heart in her hands at the ER, he had decided to keep her safe, even before she chose to accept his invitation of love, he had decided to keep her safe from all the grotesque wonders he had been blessed to bear witness to since his childhood. Though at the very moment he wondered if that was even worth it, if dragging her into his life was worth it, ruining her chances of living a mundane, peaceful-

“Are you this slow when Seonghwa asks you for something too?”

Her snarky remark caught him off guard, trying to get a better look at her but she just giggled and buried her face in his neck, the only form of compensation given to him was the tender press of her lips against his pulse, only to have it increase two folds. 

San's arms squeezed her, earning a contented sigh from his wife, much to his pleasure as he stared out the window, watching the pale winter sun cast a chalky hue among the cloudy scapes of the sky. Taking a deep breath he whispered into the still of their room, 

Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance

With the stars up above in your eyes.

A fantabulous night to make romance

'Neath the cover of October skies

Knowing nothing more mattered to him at this point but the woman that clung onto him, her heart beating with his, waltzing through harmony. 

And all the leaves on the trees are falling

To the sound of the breezes that blow

You know I'm tryin' to please to the calling

Of your heartstrings that play soft and low

He felt her hold tighten, mumbling something that he couldn't make out, but the way her body fell lax against him assured him it was some form of positive affirmation. Indeed it was, for before tumbling back into the depths of slumber, swaying in the melody of her husband's voice she had whispered, “Thank you, my love.”

You know the night's magic seems to whisper and hush

You know the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush

He wondered if she was as smitten for him as he was for her- it amazed him how she'd tell him that she knew he'd always protect her, when the fact of the matter was that it was indeed her who was protecting him, from the insanity of the world that had bruised and battered him inside and out, from the wrath of Park Seonghwa who wanted to end him for choosing to start an affair with a civilian, as pure and naive as her and from himself, the one that he too feared, knowing that if that Choi San was to resurface, only she could stop him. It was fine though, he was going to protect her from the cold, from nature and man. It's what a dutiful goodfella does, what a dutiful husband does.

Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?

Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love?

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25

@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland

[pricesprincess]

smut mdni | fat fem reader | incest | john is gross

step-dad john! who is an old nasty bastard that loves stroking his cock when he hears you with your boyfriend who clearly has no clue what to do, how to pleasure a woman.

the walls are thin and hey wasn't your bedroom shut when you first two slipped away for alone time? your mom isn't home so it must be a show just for him.

he could hear the slurping of his mouth on your pussy and john swore he could taste it, heavy on his tongue like honey giving him a toothache.

later that evening when you bid your boyfriend goodbye at the front door with sugar sweet kisses that made john seethe with jealously.

now if his wife were doing that to another man he couldn't care less. no, it's all about you.

his princess.

you met him two years ago when he first started dating your mom then you started coming around more often.

and then one drunken night you were creaming on his cock humping him like a bunny in heat.

john has never been with someone so...energetic.

he also is grateful you love to suck cock, practically begs for it the way you rub your face on his bulge whenever you have the chance.

you joined him on the couch, an old game on and beer cans on the coffee table along with his cigar he ashed earlier. "boyfriend gone?"

"why do you act like you're my husband, you're my dad." you murmured with a pouty look knowing the way you worked under his skin.

judging from his face maybe you shouldn't have pushed him too far there.

[strwbwrrybunny]

drunktoji! who comes home after a night out with his friends that you let him go with, who makes out with you aggressively when he first comes into the door , also who eats you up real sloppy i mean spit everywhere making it extra wet.he's the typa drunk that becomes really passionate and aggressive in a good way. then he makes u ride him cs he can barely contain himself to be on top who has the most prettiest face while u ride him, the rosie cheeks, the low red eyes, the furrowed eyebrows, and he's whining and moaning and babbling biting his lip till it's swollen. he's yanking your shirt up messily sucking on your tits to be more quieter. i mean he's almost louder than u. he also leaves hickies all over you 🙂‍↕️. then the next day you tell him abt it and he doesn't believe it but you show him the marks u have and blushes hard when he sees it.

hope this isn't too much ! and i hope you like it ! 😞

i love your work and i think you're the perfect person to write this 🤗

baby,baby. toji z.

ᥫ᭡ hi bby! tysm for the request you’re literally so sweet, i hope you enjoyyyyy. minors shoo! excuse errors.

you heard him before you saw him, the incessant chatter of his drunken statements. huffing, you paused grey’s anatomy and rose to your feet. it was almost comical when you swung open the wooden door, your husband staggering drunkenly as gojo held him up. toji zenin hardly went out, he hated people. but, you had encouraged him to go out this weekend and loosen up and clearly he’d taken your words a little too close to heart.

“he’s all yours.” gojo mutters, the white haired man looks annoyed and you can’t help the giggle that slips your lips. “ah, thanks satoru.” you grunt when toji envelops you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"missed you," he slurs into your hair, the scent of different alcohols mingling with his cologne wafting through the chilly air. his breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel the weight of his body leaning heavily on you, making it clear just how much he’d indulged. the night’s chill contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from his skin, creating a dizzying mix of sensations. you’re taken aback when he pulls you into a kiss, sweet at first, his lips soft and tender, slowly turning more passionate, his need evident. his tongue slips between your lips, exploring your mouth with a desperate hunger.

you want to moan but hold back, the taste of him intoxicating. the memory of your guest at the door lingers in your mind, forcing you to break the kiss. he whines when you pull back, "nooo, kiss me," his voice pleading and filled with a drunken vulnerability, his eyes half-lidded and filled with longing.

"easy boy. you know, you smell like a brewery," you tease, trying to steady him. toji chuckles, "that’s because i drank the whole thing." you roll your eyes, "i hope you left some for the rest of the town." gojo snorts, "barely." toji grins lazily, "i’m a generous guy." you laugh, shaking your head, "yeah, sure you are. come on, let's get you to bed, mr. generosity."

toji’s grin widens as you guide him inside the vanilla scented home, his feet dragging slightly across the tan carpet. “you’re the best, y’know that?” he mumbles, his voice thick with affection. “i know,” you reply with a playful smirk, “and you’re a handful.” as you finally get him to the couch, he flops down dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “why’s the room spinning?” he asks, his tone almost childlike. “because you drank enough to power a small village,” you reply, shaking your head.

gojo, still lingering by the door, chuckles. “i’ll leave you to it. good luck.” you shoot him a grateful look, “thanks, satoru. drive safe.” after gojo leaves, you turn your attention back to toji, who’s now staring at the ceiling with a goofy smile. “did you have fun at least?” you ask, sitting beside him, fingers sifting through his dark hair. “yeah,” he sighs contentedly, “but not as much fun as i have with you.” you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re such a sap when you’re drunk.” toji chuckles, “only for you, pretty girl.”

you gently guide toji towards the bedroom, his steps unsteady and his grip on you tightening with every step. "i love you," he murmurs repeatedly, his words slurred but heartfelt. "missed you so much." his voice is a mix of desperation and affection, each declaration tugging at your heartstrings. as you finally reach the bed, you help him sit down, but he refuses to let go, pulling you down with him. his lips crash into yours in a heated kiss, his hands roaming your back with a fervent need.

"wanna taste you s’bad," he moans, grinding his hips against your leg, the pressure sending shivers down your spine. his lips leave yours to trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin, leaving a path of purple marks in his wake. it stings, but you find yourself growing wet as he attacks you, marking his territory.

“toji,” you squeak out, feeling his hot breath against your collarbone as he continues his descent, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress your skin. his mouth finds your breast, and he leaves more marks, each one a testament to his desire.

toji's journey doesn't stop there; he keeps traveling down, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your body. the sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation building inside you. his hands grip your hips as he moves lower, his breath hot against your skin. "need you, m’ so hungry." he whispers, his voice raw with longing. the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment, his touch and words consuming you entirely.

toji's hands slide down your sides, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light touch. he pauses at the waistband of your shorts, his eyes meeting yours with a look of pure hunger. "please," he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper, the need in his tone making your heart race. you nod, giving him the permission he seeks.

“fuck, such a pretty pussy.” he utters drunkenly, hooking his fingers around your shorts and yanking them down. a small pathetic whimper fumbles from your lips as he drags his tongue across your clothed cunt, locking his inked arms underneath your thighs and pulling you closer into his face. “all mine,” he slurs, tongue sloppily gliding across the fabric, soaking it.

“s-stop teasing,” you gasp, the coil in your stomach tightening as he continues to taunt you. he simply giggles drunkenly, your pleas falling on deaf ears. your arousal seeping through the cotton, toji groans in bliss at the taste.

“j-just like that—ughnnh,” your words catch in your throat as toji finally slides the fabric to the side, his eyes widen at the sight before him. your plump, swollen clitoris steadily throbbing, pulsating with your quickening breath. it stood proudly, a testament to your arousal, a trail of glistening juices ran from its tip, down to your pink, swollen pussy lips. the sight was enough to make his mouth water.

"look at me," toji commanded, his voice deep and raspy. his fingers, rough and calloused, dug into your soft, doughy thighs, causing you to let out a soft whimper. the sensation of his touch, both gentle and demanding.

you obeyed, propping yourself up on your elbows, your eyes locking with his. the desire in his gaze was almost tangible.

you felt your legs tremble as toji leaned forward, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. his thick, wet tongue swiped across your clit, causing you to jerk involuntarily. the sensation was electric, like a bolt of lightning igniting your nerves. toji's eyes never left yours, holding you captive as he feasted.

"oh... oh god," you croak out, voice hoarse and desperate. the feeling of his tongue, thick and insistent. it swirled and flicked, sending waves of pleasure through your body. toji's tongue was a skilled instrument, teasing and tormenting your shuddering clit, sending signals of pleasure straight to your core. the lewd sounds he made as he savored you nothing short of disgusting.

"b-baby, please," you sob, words strangled as you struggled to articulate your needs. you craved him. more of his touch, more of his mouth, more of the intense pleasure that was building within you. your hands clenched the bedsheets, knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to thrust your hips against his face.

toji's tongue flickers across your clit, his movements becoming more urgent. he sucked and licked, drawing the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

“toji,” you whined, hips bucking involuntarily, your body moving in rhythm with his mouth. you could feel your juices flowing freely, coating his face, but he didn't seem to mind, only groaning in response, the vibration sending delightful shivers through you.

with a firm grip, toji pushes your thighs back, exposing you to his eager gaze. the muscles in his arms flexed as he effortlessly maneuvered your thick thighs, placing them on either side of your head, ensuring you were completely open and vulnerable to his touch. the position was both degrading and exhilarating, your body trembling with anticipation.

his tongue, skilled and relentless, began its dance. it swirled around your pulsating asshole, teasing the tight ring of muscle with wet, sensual laps. toji took his time, savoring the taste of your skin, the musky flavor unique to him.

he pressed his tongue flat against your hole, feeling the slight quiver of your body in response. then, with deliberate slowness, he began to trace circles around the tight bud, his tongue flicking and teasing.

as he worked his magic, you struggled to stay up. your arms, trembling beneath you, threatening to give out, unable to support your weight any longer. you tried to speak, to beg for more, but your words came out as moans and gasps. your mind was a hazy whirlwind, thoughts foggy and unable to form sentences.

toji paid no heed to your attempts at communication, too engrossed in the task at hand. he wanted to drive you wild, push you to the brink of sanity. moving upwards, he dragged his tongue along the crease of your thigh, leaving a wet trail, before zeroing in on your clit.

"i..." toji pecked at your clit, his lips sucking gently, "can't..." another peck, this time harder, as if punishing the sensitive bundle of nerves. "hear..." his lips moved lower, kissing the inner folds of your pussy, "you." with each word, he delivered a kiss, each one more demanding than the last.

a guttural moan escaped your throat as toji's lips and tongue worked. the sensation was overwhelming, your body reacting instinctively. your hips bucked, thrusting your pussy towards toji's face, seeking more contact, more pleasure. you wanted to scream, to shout out your ecstasy, but all that came out was a primal, animalistic noise, a testament to the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.

toji's hands tightened on your thighs, holding them in place as he continued his assault. his tongue flicked and swirled, alternating between gentle laps and firm, insistent pressure. he sucked on your clit, drawing it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, mimicking the action of a cock. the sensation was too much, and your body began to shake uncontrollably.

your pussy clenched and unclenched, the muscles contracting in a desperate attempt to find release. juices flowed freely, coating toji's face as he feasted on them, his tongue never faltering in its relentless pursuit of your pleasure. the room echoed with the sounds of passion—wet slurping, moans, and the occasional sharp intake of breath.

you’re a quivering, drooling mess, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. your eyes were closed, head thrown back, as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. toji's mouth and tongue were everywhere, exploring, tasting, and teasing. he sucked on your inner lips, tugging gently, before plunging his tongue deep into your hole, fucking you with it.

"hold your legs up, love," toji commanded, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. you obeyed, your arms trembling as you grasped your thighs, exposing yourself even further. your legs shook, but you held them steady, wanting to please this man who had ignited a fire within you.

his rough hand caressed your inner thigh, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body. with the other hand he slid your frilly underwear off. grinning as he slid his fingers into your wetness, his knuckles brushing against your sensitive walls, eliciting a long, drawn-out moan from your lips. he worked his fingers in a slow, sensual rhythm, the soft squelching sounds filling the room, adding to the erotic atmosphere.

"she sounds so beautiful," toji whispered, his voice gruff with desire. he was mesmerized by the way your body responded to his touch, the way your pussy clenched around his fingers, suckling them greedily. he added a third finger, stretching you wider, his pupils dilating as he watched your face contort in a mix of pleasure and pain.

your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. toji's fingers were thick and calloused, filling you up in a way that made you feel deliciously full. you were dripping with arousal, your juices coating his hand, but he didn't seem to mind. he was lost in the moment, focused solely on bringing you to the brink of ecstasy.

as he worked his fingers in and out, a sharp sensation mingled with the pleasure, causing you to whimper. "h-hurts," you breathed, your eyes pleading as you lowered your legs, seeking relief from the intense stimulation. but toji was relentless, his desire to push you further evident in his determined gaze.

with a swift motion, he landed a stinging slap on your ass, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "you will keep your legs up," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "it's not a choice." the dominance in his tone sent a thrill through your body, and you obediently raised your legs once more, surrendering to his will.

toji added a fourth finger, his hand now a tight fist inside you, causing you to squeal as your body trembled. he was relentless, pumping his hand in and out, his fingers hitting all the right spots. your pussy clenched around him, milking his fingers, begging for more.

he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thighs, leaving a trail of wetness and goose bumps in their wake. his tongue darted out, teasingly licking the sensitive skin, while his fingers continued their relentless assault. you could feel his breath hot against your skin, his stubble scratching your thighs as he marked you with his passion.

toji's cock strained against his jeans, the bulge prominent as he struggled to contain his own desire. but he was determined to focus on your pleasure, to bring you to the edge and beyond. he wanted to see you lose control, to hear you scream his name as you shattered around him.

your body was a mess of sensations, every touch, every kiss, and every thrust of his fingers sending you closer to the precipice. your eyes clenched shut, blocking out the world, as you focused on the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. your lips, swollen from his earlier kisses, parted in a silent plea for release.

a single tear escapes the corner of your eye, a testament to the intensity of your ecstasy. toji noticed this, his heart swelling with pride at the power he held over you. he quickened his pace, his fingers thrusting harder, faster, his thumb seeking out your clit and rubbing it in small circles.

"cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse with his own building need. "let me feel you squeeze my fingers."

your body tightened, every muscle coiling like a spring, as you hovered on the edge of orgasm. you could feel it building, a tidal wave of pleasure ready to crash over you. with one final, brutal thrust, toji pushed you over the edge.

your back arched off the bed, and a scream tore from your throat as you climaxed, your pussy convulsing around his hand, milking his fingers. wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. toji held you through the storm, his fingers still buried deep within you, savoring the aftershocks of your orgasm.

as your body slowly relaxed, toji withdrew his fingers, his hand glistening with your essence. “look at me,” you watched he brought it to his lips, sucking your juices from his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. the possessive gesture sent a shiver through you.

"ride my cock," toji whispered desperately, his breath hot against your lips. his words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you found herself obeying without hesitation. you straddled him, your legs on either side of his lean hips, and immediately felt the hardness of his erection pressing against you.

you’re already drenched with anticipation, pussy lips swollen and slick with arousal. as you ground your hips down, you can feel his cock twitch and jump beneath you, the thick length of it straining. toji groaned, the sound a mixture of pleasure and frustration, his hands squeezing your soft love handles, fingers digging into your flesh as if to anchor himself in this moment.

your movements are slow and deliberate, a sensual dance designed to tease and tantalize. with each grind, your pussy lips parted, enveloping his cock, leaving a trail of your arousal along his length. you could feel your juices dripping down, soaking his hard shaft, and the sensation was exquisite.

"such a tease," toji whined, his voice hoarse with need. "please, baby, fuck me. i can't take this anymore." his words were slurred, but the desperation in his voice was clear. he wanted you, needed you, and the thought of it sent a thrill through your body.

you wanted to explode right there, the sensation of his cock against your clit was almost too much to bear. your soppy folds engulfed his tip with each downward grind, the wet, sucking sound of your bodies coming together filling the room. toji's low eyes were dark with desire, he looked so fucking pretty, his cheeks flushed, and his lips parted as he panted, a sight that made your heart race.

"since you asked so nicely," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. you reached down, wrapping your hand around his thick base, feeling the pulsing heat of him in your palm. toji gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as your fingers tightened around him.

as you began to sink down onto him, toji became a babbling mess, his words incoherent as pleasure overwhelmed him. his cock twitched and throbbed, the head slick with pre-cum, as you lowered herself, taking him inch by glorious inch inside you.he filled you completely, stretching your walls to accommodate his impressive girth.

you rock your hips slowly, swiveling your pelvis to ensure he felt every inch of you, the tight grip of your pussy massaging his sensitive flesh. toji's eyes rolled back in his head, his hands gripping your thighs as he struggled to process the overwhelming sensations.

"s-so good," he moaned, his voice strained. his eyes, usually a cool blue, were now dark and hooded with desire, fixed on your bouncing breasts. the sight of your full, round tits swaying with each movement was almost his undoing.

you began to ride him in earnest, your movements becoming more urgent as your own need grew. you squatted over him, knees on either side of his hips, and began to bounce, your wetness making lewd, squelching sounds as you rose and fell, taking him deep.

toji's body jolted with each descent, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. he couldn't contain his moans any longer, each one louder and more primal than the last, filling the room with the music. he was speaking but you couldn’t make out anything coherent, just the occasional curse word that escaped his lips.

his hands, slick with sweat, found your clothed breasts, cupping and kneading them, his fingers plucking at your sensitive nipples. you arched your back, offering yourself to him, head thrown back as you reveled in the pleasure coursing through your body.

"oh god, so big," you panted, voice breathless as you continued to ride him. the pressure of his cock against your g-spot was almost too much, and you could feel your orgasm building, a coiling tension deep within your core.

you’re a creamy heap, juices mixing with his pre-cum, the white substance coating his pubic hair and the base of his shaft. toji's moans are louder than yours, a testament to the pleasure you’re giving him, and the sound only served to heighten your own arousal.

"am i making you feel good, baby?" you whisper, your breath hot against his ear. toji could only nod, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he tried to hold back his release.

beneath you, toji was a writhing, whiny mess, his body glistening with sweat, his eyes wild with desire. he surprised you by reaching up, shoving your shirt up, locking his lips around a taut nipple, sucking and grazing it with his teeth. you gasped, your hands flying to his head, threading through his dark hair as you urged him on, your hips never stopping their relentless motion.

toji's hands roamed over your back, his fingers digging into the curve of your spine, urging you to continue, to milk his cock with your tight, wet pussy. you complied, your movements becoming more frenzied as your orgasm crept closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you.

as you rode him, your body began to shake, your moans turning into incoherent cries as the pleasure became almost unbearable. toji's mouth left your nipple, his lips finding yours again,a desperate tangle of tongues and teeth.

the two of you ravaged each other for hours, round after round, completely lost in the intensity of the moment. each kiss more desperate and heated, with your tongues dancing and intertwining, leaving trails of saliva that glisten in the dim light. the passion is palpable as your bodies press tightly together, hands exploring every inch of each other with a hunger that seems insatiable.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

toji couldn’t believe his ears. here you were, telling him all that transpired last night, his fist propped under his chin as he sat at the kitchen table. you laugh, lifting up his oversized shirt that you currently wore, showcasing every hickey. toji’s eyes widen at the sight, his cheeks immediately burning a bright red.

“i can’t believe you did this to me,” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

“i couldn’t resist,” he murmurs, his fingers lightly brushing over each mark. “m’ sorry you’re just too irresistible.”

“well, you certainly left your mark,” you giggle, leaning in closer. “think you can handle round two?”

toji smirks, his embarrassment fading into a mischievous grin. “only if you promise to wear my shirt again.”

@strwbwrrybunny all rights reserved. don’t steal cause i’ll send toji to ruin your life <3

[creepyclothdoll]

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Century Demons

The steam engine blasted vapor into the air. Cacophonous chatter from the crowds all around us, pressing like a physical weight. I truely did hate traveling. Granted, there was nothing for it, we were needed. Being their Majesty's Special Task Force and all. But STILL! Awful. Just, awful!

It was the pushing, really. The constant shoving. Flashs of insight into lives I wanted nothing to do with. That individual? Marriage was collapsing. This one? Had debts. The girl who just stepped on my foot, thought she was in love, but honestly? Any adult could tell you how badly it was going to end. He was using her.

Frankly, I wish we could walk. At this point? I would honestly take a flipping DONKEY! But nooooo! What has my husband decided to do? "Let's take the TRAIN, darling! It'll be an ADVENTURE! Save so much TIME!"

He's lucky I married him AT ALL. Fuck. I HAD options! Could have been a Baron's wife. Well-to-do! But NO, I wanted to HELP people. Like a FOOL. Gods, my mother was RIGHT! Cute air-heads WOULD be the death of-!

I finally spot Arthur, the sweet idiot, looking lost by our baggage. Map in hand. Like a confused puppy told to do arithmetic or be scolded, his anxiety is palpable. I gather my skirts and shove. Fuck being polite. Everyone ELSE seems to be fine, being stampeding herd animals. Why not I? Move!

"O-Oh thank goodness! Darling!" Arthur gasps, nearly dropping the map as he reaches for me as I get close. His eye are wide and his expression frazzled. Tone as though someone has been compressing his chest. "There are-! There are so many PATHS! I didn't-! And I-! Oh dear. W-what do we do? Darling, I can't-! It's so-!"

Damn it! I KNEW this would happen! This was an awful idea! Reaching for my husband's face, I cup his cheeks, propriety be damned. Pull him close to press his forhead against mine. Match my breath, dear. Focus, darling, just... focus. Close your eyes. You do not See. Curse crowded places and what they do to us. We should have moved to the countryside years ago.

But no, no Arthur would never leave his Sister. And I'll not leave him behind. Damn it all, why? WHY?

Why did she have to pick the Nobility Route?

It was bad enough, remembering this world "wasn't real". That it had a "plot" for Gods sake. Bad ENOUGH to realize that the monster under the bed very much WERE a real and present threat, that I SHOULD be concerned about. But fool that I am? Did I HAVE to fall in love with the Protagonist's brother? Sweet and foolish? A simple, if air headed man? Apparently!

All I could do, now, was try to protect him. Try and protect myself.

Ignore the nasty, judging looks, being sent our way. Piss off! The lot of you! I took no vows to YOU. Stood in no church! There us exactly ONE person in the train station I care about, and it is NONE of you, so keep your snide opinions to yourself! Breathe, Arthur. There we go, dear.

Pulling back slightly, I check his eyes. They flick and track things unseen. He is still unusually pale. He... he will be rather disappointed. He was excited to try the trains. To him? They are a bold new technology.

Maybe once we get farther from the city. Here, at least, he is drowning.

Then, a change. Sudden and swiftly building. Whatever Paths my husband traced were disappearing, narrowing, even as terror sweeped across his face. Only twice I had ever seen this before. Once, was an earthquake. The largest seen in over 400 years. The other? A bombing just before the royal wedding, we had been still engaged then. But the way he had frozen? Mid-sentence?

It is BURNED into my mind. Just like the horror that followed.

Bellowing, I command everyone to get out. Evacuate.

NOW.

But already... it is too late. Down the line of the train, terrible symbols flash into being. Molten red metal, on the side of the train cars themselves, instants before the BLOW. Unspeakable shrapnel bombs. Made of people and metal and MAGIC. The train cars lifted from the tracks by the knock back, smashing into fleeing crowds, even as the next car goes off. And then the next. And the next.

A writhing chain of death.

Like the dying spasms if a great snake.

My husband is frozen. No. As I drag him down? I realize with horror, worse. Seizing. It has NEVER been this bad! What is HAPPENING?! What Path is he SEEING that could cause such OVERLOAD? Terrified, I watch as thin trails of blood, seep from his eyes, his nose. Oh Gods. Oh GODS! Arthur? ARTHUR!

Love! Stay with me! Please! D-Darling, Please! Focus on my voice! You have to let them GO! Close your EYES, Arthur! Don't look! Please, DON'T LOOK! It's KILLING YOU!

"That's rather the point."

I stop. From on the ground, where I crawl. Dragging my unresponsive husband to safety. My gaze finally whips around to ahead of us. Amongst the chaos... stands a conductor. Pressed uniform clean and hair entirely too long. His eyes... oh Gods, his EYES. I do not need to touch him to know. That? THAT is not a human.

Not anymore.

Shrapnel flies harmlessly over us, but comes no where near him. As though where he stands is Forbidden to touch. All around him, those fleeing? Suffering? Do not notice him. Do not SEE. Yet, on instinct alone... avoid him.

Because, of course they do. B-because that?

That Is A Demon.

We weren't even remotely prepared for this. And even if we WERE. Everything is packed away. Pressed to the floor, all I can do? Is drag my husband close. Feel tear begin to fill my eyes and choke my throat, as I curse the Gods. Damn it. D-Damn it! I drag Arthur under me. A-as though... as though we were just... just resting at home. Cuddling, as we so often do.

I-It will be okay, darling. Come back to me. Arthur... Please...

(We promised to go together...)

"He really is useless, isn't he? Can't protect you. Couldn't warn you. Can't even die, where he's supposed to be. Really, how hard is it? To just get on the damned train? Quite inconsiderate, your worthless lump of a first husband. It really won't be hard, no doubt, to surpass him in every way."

I drag Arthur closer. Cradling his head to me chest. You'll have to go through ME, you fucking monster! It's.. it's a laughable defense. I'm tissue paper. We both are. With out supplies and the proper anti-demonics? H-he's going to SHRED us. But... but! I took a VOW.

Married this man.

I... I love him.

Even if he's not awake. Even if he's trapped in his own gifts by this BASTARD of a Demon. That's.. That's okay. I'm still here. W-We're still together. And I love him. Silly, ridiculous, air-headed fool that he is. My quite scholar. M-My best friend. I glare at the damnable creature before us.

"You really do have such lovely eyes." It notes, tilting it's head. "Does he appreciate them? Somehow, I doubt it. He makes you live in squalor, after all. Dresses you in rags and works you like an animal. You were meant for so much... more. I can feel it."

With a boneless grace he squats, bringing him closer even as I try to drag us away, he reaches out. One hand both perfectly human yet tipped with claws. In the distance, I hear doors being forced open. Commanding voices. Prayers and the glimpses of shining light. The Paladins are here.

Too late... I... I fear it is too late.

Demon skin touchs my face and I scream, as I am cast beneath the waves. It is so dark. Oh Gods. OH GODS. IT IS SO DARK. HELP ME. HELP ME! IT HURTS! It HuRtS! HELP M-!

"Shhh, drink deep and sink down, Love. I will be there to catch you. Forget about him. Forget about everything. You are made for so much more. We were meant to be together. Just let go, sweet."

"Just let go..."

[theeternalwombtarot]

I want to talk about the normalization (especially in ethnic communities ) in baby mama culture including even those of us who have grown up sheltered or wealthy or are currently wealthy or considered celebrities (for example like skai Jackson, keke palmer, Halle Bailey, Jayda cheaves, etc.) and the types of fathers being chosen and fetishized.

A lot of girls within black and brown communities are not raised nor taught what it means to have high levels of self worth, standards, or boundaries which leads to a whole lot of us going out into the world when we’re ready to seek out romantic relationships and connections and connecting with men who are less than satisfactory, can’t fulfill our needs, can’t love us, are in a wounded masculine energy, and have generations of karmic cycles and trauma that would not benefit us if we were to invest in relationships with them or procreate with them. We are not taught that if we can’t find a husband in a man that he should not get a child out of us nor be in our energy, and/or finding a romantic partner in us. We’re not taught what fully healed and divine masculine men look like, we’re not even taught what you should do when we come across individuals in our lives who can’t love us, display dysfunctional behaviors, display abusive or toxic behaviors, etc.

I had previously made a point a long while ago about the suppression and demonization of femininity within ethnic households when it comes to raising little girls and daughters. My post was mostly surrounded around black girls as I grew up black so I have a first hand account of that experience. The type of suppression I’m talking about can fall into purity culture, the “too grown” rhetoric, the idea of raising girls and women in ways that highly encourage them to grow up and be home makers and serve and center men in their lives in self-sacrificial and codependent ways, etc. interest in romantic relationships and connections starts as early as middle school and you have a responsibility to your daughters to raise and teach them up in a way that will prepare them to be discerning and have high levels of self love and worth growing up and also prepare them for becoming and being a fully grown woman and a functional one at that.

There are way too many girls and women who don’t know their worth because they weren’t taught, way too many girls and women who don’t quite make that transition from being a teenager/a young girl into being a grown woman and operating as such, way too many girls and women who were never taught the ways of womanhood or what it meant to cultivate your femininity or carry it in a way that was conducive to them and their development (down to hygiene basics to etiquette and “game”)

And then we wonder why girls end up being baby mothers, end up in abusive relationships or attached and stuck to men who don’t really love them, don’t know their worth or don’t know who they are, and don’t know how to be women and operate as one in the world. Because they weren’t taught. You have to teach them.

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#106.......

From the story I might never write

How dare she. She has been ignoring me and eyeing my husband, Suguru, for the past forty three minutes and twenty two seconds. Yes. I counted. What else was I supposed to do while being ignored.

Suguru and I had decided to finally move out of our current apartment, with the girls, and shift to a bigger place. It was way to cramped for four people and now with both of earning, in jujutsu world, we had gathered more than enough to finish the down payment instantly.

So we contacted a realtor to show us some places according to our requirements. Mind you, the requirements DID NOT include a middle aged lady, with way too many operations on her face and boobs, who flirts with a taken man. Like bruh, I get my man looks like a god but back. The. Fuck. Off!

So here we were, him getting hit on by a plastic lady, with her nose a little too way off and her one boob smaller than the other.

All I want to do is come out and burn the bitch to crisps with my curse energy but no, apparently being jealous wasn't a good enough reason for murder nowadays, pfft, as if. What if my man needs me to save his honour, huh?

Suguru has been holding my hand and trying to include me in the conversation but that bitch had purposely and extremely unsubtly been leaving me out.

If I wasn't fuming right now, his situation would have made me laugh real hard. He seems so uncomfortable and aborable trying to maintain a safe distance from her. I'll protect you my pretty boy, don't you worry.

Now, only if my eyes could shoot lasers, it would have made things really easy. Like, oops my B. However, they still don't. Trust. I tried squinting. This was the cool power I was supposed to get with my curse shit but no! Nothing cool here.

Forget cool powers. Let me at the bitch bare hands and I'll have her in shreds before you can even finish saying laser. Yeah... my inner bitch was NOT happy.

On a second thought though, why waste power when words can harm more. I smirked internally, when I had an idea.

We were currently in the common area near the dining table. Suguru had his one hand on the table while his other hand circled my waist, the plastic lady in front of us. It wasn't a second after my idea, that I saw her hand go right on top of his free hand and squeeze, he pulled his hand back quickly.

Oh no, you don't! That's it!

"Alright, I have a real quick question." I say while moving between them and leaning on the table.

Ru looks relieved, probably to have a barrier in between and the bitch looks annoyed. Like I care.

I put on my most innocent smile and look at him. "Could you please clear a doubt for me, husband?" I emphasised the last word just put of spite.

"Of course love. What is it?" He quirks a brow and moves his hand to tug gently at the ends of my hair, twirling it around his finger.

"I just wanted to clear out if you have an interest, any interest at all, in Miss. -" I turned towards her making sure my hair hit her in the face, "- wait what was your name?"

Before she could answer I turned back, hitting her again with the hair, and pointed towards her, waiving my palm carelessly, and continued, "Anyway. Her "

"No, I don't love. Why would you ask?" He knew exactly why I would ask. The twinkle in his violet eyes and his horrible attempt at hiding his smile said enough. He played along anyway because let's be real, Suguru Geto loved being petty, even more so than me.

"I just wanted to clear out the fact, so she doesn't waste her time as well as ours, with her futile attempts of trying to woo you. Not to mention, I would hate for her to lose such an important deal, now wouldn't I?" I gave her a pointed look and turned back around. Yes, another hair attack!

I purposely put my left hand, which had the engagement ring on it , over his wrist which now shifted to my cheek.

"Of course, we would, love." he bit his inner cheek to keep himself from laughing, yet his shoulders shook with merth. His beautiful lips pulled in a smirk.

After giving a quick kiss to my forehead and the knuckles of my left hand, he pulled me around so that my back was to his front and we faced the bitch. He put his chin on shoulder, his smirk still evident.

The bitch had gone red. Serves her right.

"You sly, little vixen." Suguru whispered in my ear and tugged the lobe gently with his teeth. I just shrugged still maintaining my innocent smile.

"Just trying to save your sexy ass, like always. I'll take the payment in hair wash, so better be ready to finally drop your hair routine, princess."

[eyecan02]

Charlie's Relationships Analysis

Charlie gives me the impression of someone that is at a place in her life where "she's really into her career." Because of that, narratively, it doesn't make sense for Charlie to be in a relationship with anyone at this point in the story.

I understand that Viv is trying to give Charlie the "Barbie" treatment- the beautiful blonde who has it all. She's a princess, she has a business, a loving father, friends and a supportive girlfriend. The only problem is that Charlie's career seemingly comes first and her relationship feels more like an after thought.

On top of that, the co-dependency feels so unhealthy. I was so alarmed when Vaggie said, "What good am I to you if I can't make your dream come true?" This question encapsulates Vaggie's character.

Vaggie wants to be Charlie's night in shining armor but Charlie has told her "I can take care of myself." She appreciates the support, and it must feel comforting to have someone to cuddle with and be intimate with after a long day. But I'll say it again, Charlie just isn't emotionally/in the right head space to be in a serious relationship right now.

Vaggie really believes her only purpose for existing is to make Charlie happy and that's so unhealthy for them. Viv said this about Chaggie, "It didn't feel like I wanted to spend time doing the 'will they won't they' thing. Or them getting together or just them being together. It just didn't really make sense."

"Didn't want to spend time..." So in the other words...she didn't want to put in the effort to give Chaggie a more fleshed out relationship the way they deserved. It doesn't make sense because they're literally the main couple, and Vaggie plays the important role of one of the managers.

But it sounds like Viv is focusing more on the representation rather than the chemistry. It's the angel and demon romance trope. It had so much potential. Before season one dropped, I thought I was gonna be multishipping Huskerdust, Charlastor and Chaggie. I wanted Viv to prove me wrong and show everyone that they actually are an interesting couple.

The "sexy" scene she has planned for them sounds so forced and shoe horned in and feels like she's just saying "Here's a horny Chaggie song. See? They have chemistry." Chaggie had potential but there's literally little to no chemistry there unfortunately. Story wise, they just don't make sense.

As for Charlie's relationship with Alastor, I find it interesting the way they mirror each other. She's a business woman and Alastor is a business man of sorts. Think of the way they changed her pilot outfit to match Alastor more- the hot pink is almost a dark red, they both have bow ties and they both even have shoulder pads. Sometimes they say couples/partners start to "resemble" each other the longer they remain in close proximity to each other.

Speaking of close proximity, Charlastor really sped run their relationship and moved in together after one day. Alastor didn't necessarily have to move in to help Charlie. He could've gotten a house close by. Instead, his radio tower is at the same level as her room and for the new and improved hotel, they're literally staying on the same floor together once more.

The decision to live together was probably made in order to be more accessible to Charlie. It doesn't matter why Alastor has to be at the hotel, the point is he's there because for some reason he has to make her happy (I made a separate analysis for this involving Al's microphone staff).

Keeping Charlie happy also means doing things he's not particularly fond of. There's other ways to advertise but he chose to use technology and went out of his way to film a commercial all for Charlie. As he said, he would've preffered to advertise through radio but she "insisted" on a TV ad so since that's what she wanted, he didn't make too big of a fuss about it.

Al honestly sounds like Charlie's husband. The husband does his best to please his wife and sometimes does things he doesn't like just to please his wife.

On top of working with technology, Al chose to team up with Vaggie for another commercial, he played along with Charlie's forgiveness game and "forgave" Pen for ruining his coat and allowed Pen to stay there even after the betrayal. All this to make himself look good in front of Charlie.

When things seemed desperate and even out of Alastor's power, he picked a fight with Charlie's (popular theory) dad in order to push them together so that she could get that meeting with heaven. Even when it seems Alastor can't directly help Charlie, he finds other ways to help her from the shadows.

And when Alastor DOES have the right connections to help Charlie, he really delivers and goes all out after a bit of teasing. He shows her how to use a smile as a power move so that she feels more in control. That's what Charlie wants- to be more in control and confident.

Alastor just always seems to know Charlie's wants and needs. He seems to know her better than she knows herself. Storywise it's giving twin flames. Think of their love of song and dance. They both have very high opinions of each other.

Charlie has a clear praise kink that seems to ONLY come out around our favorite deer man. Alastor would rather draw 20 cards while playing Uno than stop touching Charlie. He finds her charming and fun and she finds him dependable and encouraging, which is the kind of support she truly needs right now in the story.

I understand that Vaggie is meant to "ground" Charlie, but Charlie isn't a character that's meant to be tamed. She's easily excited and she's a dreamer just like her dad. She's also insecure and doesn't have much confidence in herself. But Alastor helps boost Charlie's confidence, and let's her thrive by letting her just be herself.

He told Rosie, "Surprised? I knew she could do it all along." Vaggie knew Charlie for three years and Alastor only knew Charlie for five months when he said that line to Rosie. Yet, he believes in Charlie so much. No matter what lies behind Alastor's original intentions for being at the hotel, the fact is that he is fond of Charlie and they have undeniable chemistry.

In my eyes, their contract is sort of like a marriage because it binds them together until Alastor cashes in on the favor. Depending on what the favor is, the favor might bind her even more to him. "She's filled with potential I could guide." That line sounds like he wants Charlie in his life long term.