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Kim Taehyung as your toxic boyfriend headcanons
TW: dark content, mentions of dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, manipulative behavior, gaslighting, fem!reader
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Needy. It was cute…at first. Endearing even when he’d whine about how he wanted you to stay in bed instead of heading to school or work. Endearing in the sense it felt good to know he wanted you so much. But his neediness takes a different turn when his constant distractions from your work start being less cute…and more malicious.
It almost starts to feel like he’s putting you down when he makes these off-hand remarks about maybe you’re not suited for your major after you start complaining about your workload. You just wanted to vent and maybe some support, but to hear that maybe you’re having a hard time because you’re bad at what you’re doing isn’t what you want to hear. And eventually, he wears you down…maybe you are bad. Maybe you’re struggling because you can’t and no amount of hard work is going to change that.
When he’s cold and callous, it really hurts. He feels like an entirely different person. You think of the Kim Taehyung you first laid eyes on: impossibly warm, all sunny smiles and square shaped grins, friendly and so bright it took your breath away. But after a fight or a disagreement, he’s prone to shutting down with no warning. Silent treatment, only offering you small words. And asking what’s wrong is not enough.
You have to be on the brink of tears. On your knees and begging for apologies, admitting that yes it was all your fault. And maybe your friends are bad influences and if he doesn’t like them, that’s a strong indication of their character. He’ll sigh as you’re openly sobbing, and slowly take you into his arms as he softly strokes your hair. And just like that, everything is fine. Until the next argument.
His anger isn’t always cold. Sometimes it’s hot. Burning to the touch. Destructive. You think of the broken vase that you two had picked out at the thrift shop. It was a memory you’d always treasure and now all left of that memory is broken shards on the tiled floors. It was your fault of course, how dare you let that guy from your class talk to you like that. Get close to you? Do you not know better than to text other men?
He’s beautiful. He’s a model, so that’s a given of course. He’s so impossibly beautiful and maybe that’s why you were naive. Surely someone like him doesn’t get insecure? But he does. Relentlessly. You have to relentlessly validate him or he’ll think you don’t love him. Even when you don’t feel like it, you have to have to say it. Some days it feels like a chore, like a deadweight spilling from your lips. But he has to hear it. You love him right? You love him even when he threatens to rip the hinges from the door if you kept being secretive? Do you love him even when he makes you delete all your social media? Do you love him when he makes you block your guy friends?
He’s just a little bit pushy. Not very understanding of boundaries. He doesn’t get it. You guys are a couple, what’s the point of space? Shouldn’t you want to do everything together? Why won’t you let him hop in the shower with you? Not that’ll stop him of course. He’ll slam the door open, caging you under the showerhead. Just be a good girl and let him be a good boyfriend. Isn’t he sweet? Washing your hair. Just don’t let him see gritting your teeth or how you’re crying, hoping he won’t be able to tell.
He’s told you about his friends for a long time. Speaks about them with unmatched adoration. So naturally, you just want to make a good impression. His friends are lovely, and you particularly find yourself getting along with the quieter pale older boy named Min Yoongi. You guys bond over the piano, and you can’t help but smile widely when he compliments your playing. He’s sweet and not as stoic as you assumed him to be. Taehyung’s other friends are great of course but it’s nice to be chill with Yoongi who doesn’t need to prattle your ears off in the name of friendliness.
Taehyung doesn’t get it. How you got Yoongi to open up so easily. To get his approval so fucking fast. You’re such a slut, you must have been trying to vie for his attention. The way you two sat in the couch, the way you leaned into him easily, the countless smiles you gave. It makes him see red. How could you? How could you? Forget about Taehyung so fast?
You’re stupider than you thought because you don’t realize anything is wrong. Don’t realize how his knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. Don’t pay much notice to his silence, assuming your boyfriend is just tired. You’re glowing, a pleasant buzz in your veins, happy you made a good impression on his friends.
When you guys get home, Taehyung lashes out. Calls you a whore. Doesn’t let you speak. His voice drowns you out, stripping you of every single defense. And when he’s done, he doesn’t utter a word more. Fucks you hard that night, and you don’t tell him to stop because you don’t want to deny him. You just bear the pain of his fingers digging into your skin, of his fingers digging into the bruises he’s left before.
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tryna pull up?
pairing: eren x fem!reader
tw: dark content (reading the rest of the content warnings from this point on is a spoiler) manipulative behavior, toxic relationships, mention of drinking, the reader is described as having hair that you can stroke, implied noncon/dubcon touching, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, roofies,
You woke up with a throbbing headache and crusty eyes. You were still trying to open up your eyes when your hands just instinctively rolled over and reached for your phone.
The mess of angry notifications and strings of missed calls woke you right up. You scrolled through your texts, the most recent being “Where are you??”
You frowned, and let yourself drop back to the familiar bedsheets-wait. Why were they familiar?
You swallowed, looking around your surroundings once more. A sparse room void of decor, grey bed sheets, and curtains. A few NBA basketball posters. Triple monitors and a gaming chair in the corner.
And then all the other sensations started to fall into place. You were wearing an oversized shirt, the neck hole slipping past your shoulder. You could have almost cried in relief when you realized you still had your panties on.
You chewed on your bottom lip, eying the impression left in the sheets next to you. You had to leave, you could get answers later. But first, you need to leave and comfort your panicked boyfriend who was blowing up your phone last night. Your mind was so disarrayed, where was your dress (although the thought of putting on that tight number when you felt sore)? This shirt that engulfed you smelled just like-
“You’re awake.” The devil you were just thinking of spoke.
You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sight of him. Tall, and broad. No shirt so the tantalizing muscles of his stomach were on full display. A towel around his neck and his dark hair looked the slightest bit spiky when wet. Gray sweatpants hung loosely on his hips, and you kept your eyes as far as away from the happy trail as possible.
He has a mug in his hand, slightly chipped on the top. This mug that you declared your favorite because it was horrendously tacky.
Green eyes stared pensively at you as if waiting for you to speak.
“Eren” Your voice sounded so scratchy and hoarse, it was foreign to you, “Wh..what happened last..night?”
He wordlessly hands you the coffee. You take a sip after blowing on it. It was good. He knew how you liked it.
“What do you think happened?” He replied simply, approaching closer to the bed.
His voice was eerily calm. Like it always was (save for the moments where he could get intensely angry, anger so sharp and piercing-)
You shake the old memories away, not wanting to add to the anxiety over last night weighing you down.
Your eyes didn’t meet his when you shakily asked, “E-eren, we didn’t s-sleep together right?”
The pause is too long for your fragile nerves. Finally, he opens his mouth, “We did sleep together” your heart dropped to your stomach, almost tuning out the rest of his sentence, “...but we didn’t have sex.”
You sighed in utter relief. Of course, it’s still bad considering that you were just spending the night with someone that’s not your boyfriend, but Eren was a friend. He helped you get changed, and slept next to you in a very platonic way. He was just taking care of a drunk friend. This is the narrative that you decided was the reality.
“Oh, thanks, Eren for taking care of me last night,” You said while stretching your arms, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I never get this drunk.” He doesn’t respond but you weren’t expecting one anyway.
Setting the coffee on the nightstand, you rise, “Well, I should probably go. I think I made Porco very anxious.” You chuckle even though nothing you said was particularly funny.
The green-haired man arches his brow, “Sure you wanna go meet your little boyfriend with hickies around your neck?”
You’re frozen for a second before you immediately run to the master bathroom, in desperate need to look at yourself in the mirror. You’re so shocked you don’t even catch the way he mentioned your partner.
God doesn’t answer your prayers because when you see yourself in the mirror, you almost can’t even recognize yourself. Thanks to Eren’s oversized loose shirt, you can see the arrays of purple and blue and red dime-sized love bites crawling up your neck. They were so damn prominent against your skin tone, you wondered how you didn’t even feel them when you woke up.
You hate crying in front of other people (although being a crybaby was a habit you never managed to break) but you can’t help tears well up in your eyes.
“Eren” your voice cracks as you stare at his form leaning against the doorframe through the bathroom mirror, “I t-thought you said w-we d-didn’t sleep together.”
“We didn’t.”
You want to scream at how impassive he’s being. So oblivious to your distress (no maybe oblivious isn’t the correct word, he has to notice, definitely, he just doesn’t fucking care), all blank face and dead eyes.
“You kissed me first.”
It’s as if he was personally screwing the final nail into your coffin. But there wasn’t enough room to be angry when overwhelming shame-filled you.
Still, you tried to be mad. Because if you couldn’t be mad, you’d just fall apart.
Taking deep breaths to calm yourself, you counted to three in your head before finally turning to face him, “And you kissed me back? And you let me kiss you? And you let-”
“What? You think I took advantage of you?” Eren’s tone wasn’t accusatory, there was the shape of a mocking smile on his face…as if he found this situation very very comical.
“I-” You didn’t want to defend yourself, you simply didn’t have the energy to. You covered your face in your hands, shoulders trembling. You felt an arm around you, and (you should have pushed him away, why didn’t you push him away) you leaned in, needing all the comfort you possibly could at the moment.
You let him guide you back to his bed, where he sat you down. The back of your mind registered that he was still very shirtless and he smelled so good. So clean, fresh, and comforting.
He put the comforter around your shoulder and sat so close, your thigh was practically on top of his. He maneuvered your head close to his chest, so he could stroke your hair. He was gentle, letting you cry softly.
“It’s okay”, He soothed, “Just stay here today. You don’t have class or work. Just stay here and let me take care of you.”
“B-but Porco…”
He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Don’t stress your pretty little head. We’ll do something about him later, Just take some rest.”
“O-okay.”
You sounded so broken.
So perfect.
As he continued to caress your hair, Eren made a mental note to thank Armin for the odorless and tasteless pill he crushed into your drink last night.
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tryna pull up?
pairing: eren x fem!reader
tw: dark content (reading the rest of the content warnings from this point on is a spoiler) manipulative behavior, toxic relationships, mention of drinking, the reader is described as having hair that you can stroke, implied noncon/dubcon touching, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, roofies,
You woke up with a throbbing headache and crusty eyes. You were still trying to open up your eyes when your hands just instinctively rolled over and reached for your phone.
The mess of angry notifications and strings of missed calls woke you right up. You scrolled through your texts, the most recent being “Where are you??”
You frowned, and let yourself drop back to the familiar bedsheets-wait. Why were they familiar?
You swallowed, looking around your surroundings once more. A sparse room void of decor, grey bed sheets, and curtains. A few NBA basketball posters. Triple monitors and a gaming chair in the corner.
And then all the other sensations started to fall into place. You were wearing an oversized shirt, the neck hole slipping past your shoulder. You could have almost cried in relief when you realized you still had your panties on.
You chewed on your bottom lip, eying the impression left in the sheets next to you. You had to leave, you could get answers later. But first, you need to leave and comfort your panicked boyfriend who was blowing up your phone last night. Your mind was so disarrayed, where was your dress (although the thought of putting on that tight number when you felt sore)? This shirt that engulfed you smelled just like-
“You’re awake.” The devil you were just thinking of spoke.
You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sight of him. Tall, and broad. No shirt so the tantalizing muscles of his stomach were on full display. A towel around his neck and his dark hair looked the slightest bit spiky when wet. Gray sweatpants hung loosely on his hips, and you kept your eyes as far as away from the happy trail as possible.
He has a mug in his hand, slightly chipped on the top. This mug that you declared your favorite because it was horrendously tacky.
Green eyes stared pensively at you as if waiting for you to speak.
“Eren” Your voice sounded so scratchy and hoarse, it was foreign to you, “Wh..what happened last..night?”
He wordlessly hands you the coffee. You take a sip after blowing on it. It was good. He knew how you liked it.
“What do you think happened?” He replied simply, approaching closer to the bed.
His voice was eerily calm. Like it always was (save for the moments where he could get intensely angry, anger so sharp and piercing-)
You shake the old memories away, not wanting to add to the anxiety over last night weighing you down.
Your eyes didn’t meet his when you shakily asked, “E-eren, we didn’t s-sleep together right?”
The pause is too long for your fragile nerves. Finally, he opens his mouth, “We did sleep together” your heart dropped to your stomach, almost tuning out the rest of his sentence, “...but we didn’t have sex.”
You sighed in utter relief. Of course, it’s still bad considering that you were just spending the night with someone that’s not your boyfriend, but Eren was a friend. He helped you get changed, and slept next to you in a very platonic way. He was just taking care of a drunk friend. This is the narrative that you decided was the reality.
“Oh, thanks, Eren for taking care of me last night,” You said while stretching your arms, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I never get this drunk.” He doesn’t respond but you weren’t expecting one anyway.
Setting the coffee on the nightstand, you rise, “Well, I should probably go. I think I made Porco very anxious.” You chuckle even though nothing you said was particularly funny.
The green-haired man arches his brow, “Sure you wanna go meet your little boyfriend with hickies around your neck?”
You’re frozen for a second before you immediately run to the master bathroom, in desperate need to look at yourself in the mirror. You’re so shocked you don’t even catch the way he mentioned your partner.
God doesn’t answer your prayers because when you see yourself in the mirror, you almost can’t even recognize yourself. Thanks to Eren’s oversized loose shirt, you can see the arrays of purple and blue and red dime-sized love bites crawling up your neck. They were so damn prominent against your skin tone, you wondered how you didn’t even feel them when you woke up.
You hate crying in front of other people (although being a crybaby was a habit you never managed to break) but you can’t help tears well up in your eyes.
“Eren” your voice cracks as you stare at his form leaning against the doorframe through the bathroom mirror, “I t-thought you said w-we d-didn’t sleep together.”
“We didn’t.”
You want to scream at how impassive he’s being. So oblivious to your distress (no maybe oblivious isn’t the correct word, he has to notice, definitely, he just doesn’t fucking care), all blank face and dead eyes.
“You kissed me first.”
It’s as if he was personally screwing the final nail into your coffin. But there wasn’t enough room to be angry when overwhelming shame-filled you.
Still, you tried to be mad. Because if you couldn’t be mad, you’d just fall apart.
Taking deep breaths to calm yourself, you counted to three in your head before finally turning to face him, “And you kissed me back? And you let me kiss you? And you let-”
“What? You think I took advantage of you?” Eren’s tone wasn’t accusatory, there was the shape of a mocking smile on his face…as if he found this situation very very comical.
“I-” You didn’t want to defend yourself, you simply didn’t have the energy to. You covered your face in your hands, shoulders trembling. You felt an arm around you, and (you should have pushed him away, why didn’t you push him away) you leaned in, needing all the comfort you possibly could at the moment.
You let him guide you back to his bed, where he sat you down. The back of your mind registered that he was still very shirtless and he smelled so good. So clean, fresh, and comforting.
He put the comforter around your shoulder and sat so close, your thigh was practically on top of his. He maneuvered your head close to his chest, so he could stroke your hair. He was gentle, letting you cry softly.
“It’s okay”, He soothed, “Just stay here today. You don’t have class or work. Just stay here and let me take care of you.”
“B-but Porco…”
He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Don’t stress your pretty little head. We’ll do something about him later, Just take some rest.”
“O-okay.”
You sounded so broken.
So perfect.
As he continued to caress your hair, Eren made a mental note to thank Armin for the odorless and tasteless pill he crushed into your drink last night.
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Could I request a toxic reader x eren or armin, where he's basically readers breedable lil fuck doll? With lots of body worshipping, cum denial, praise kink, edging, rough play, domination, over stimulation and creampies🥴 followed by some sweet gentle sex as a "reward" for his good performance so 2 speak.
This is a good request! Unfortunately it is not mine to fulfill. This is probably my fault bc I don’t think I made it clear in my rules or whatnot but I do not write dom!reader fics. I write what I like and dom!reader just isn’t my groove yanno?
Like even if I wrote a toxic reader they would still be subbing during sex, bc my toxic reader would be playing mind games, let the character take charge bc she knows it fills his ego, purposely acting innocent to rile him up, drawing out his anger blah blah
But my readers won’t be turning anyone into breedable lil fick dolls. thanks for asking doe and I hope you find an author who meets your needs
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Don’t mind me checking ur page like it’s coke at 1AM to re read your beautifully wonderfully blessed writing pieces of art
I don’t think that made sense I’m high sorry lov u
this made me giggle. guys always feel free to send your love especially when you’re intoxicated!
have a good trip :$ I know I haven’t been uploading lately…and my Mlist is far from being updated [I will amend these things] but enjoy the ride ;) hope my words will be as good as the first time you read em
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was feeling meh on watching the s2 premiere of euphoria but my friends really wanted me to watch so we could discuss
anyways, i am feeling inspired. will def be BORROWING HEAVILY from some of the casssie and nate scenes but here's what i'm thinking:
tw: speeding, toxic behavior, manhandling
1. y/n upset and sad, sitting on a concrete block in the parking lot of 7/11 eating those cheap powdery mini-donuts. a car rolls up, high beam headlights violently flashing. the person inside is no other than your bestie's very toxic on-and-off boyfriend. he goes inside and comes out with beer. his eyes drinking in the shortness of your dress, and the tear-rimmed eyes.
2. offers you a ride in his car. offers a ride to the party you're supposed to be at by now, but the way the words leave his mouth makes it sound like you really should be in his car.
3. 60 becomes 70 and 70 becomes 85 and 85 becomes- driving so fast in the road, and you're looking out the window, anxiety ridden. he looks at you often, undisturbed gaze. you don't know where you find the courage but you tell him (in a whisper really) "y-you're driving too fast" he chuckles, "am I?"
4. he's slamming you against the bathroom door, his mouth on your neck, pressing kisses with teeth and his greedy hands find purchase, groping all he can under that glitzy skimpy dress you had on. a voice rings out from the other side. someone you know (and he knows?) bangs against the door, and they recognize his voice when he growls "I'm fucking busy here." He had his hand smothering your mouth so you can't make a sound, "don't cry pretty girl...you haven't been caught yet." his hands still making rounds under your dress, and you're frozen to the ground. stuck on the spot and can't make a sound, can't shove or push because he's so tall and strong. and you're a dumb dumb girl tonight.
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milestone check!
happy 1800 :)
so lucky for each and one of you
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hey time, it’s dead reader anon. long time no talk! i’ve been super busy lately with school and work so i wasn’t able to be active on here, but i recently binged ur writing and wow, it’s still just as amazing as i remembered. i hope you’re doing well! have a lovely day!
dead reader anon!
i love you! have a blessed year. and no worries, school and work is important. I'm very happy you visited me at all. tagging this as dead reader anon so i hope this message finds you (and in good spirits)
i think of you often. thank you
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oh my gosh hello i dont know how to word this to the full extent of my feelings but i love your writing so so so sosoososos much. you have this capability of just making art out of anything because the way you write is so captivating, short or long. i also cant express how much your writing allows me to indulge myself in toxicity because you write it so well and it just hits the spot every time oh my goshh thank you so much for writing and i hope you have a wonderful year ilysm <33
this is so kind.
i saw this when i needed it. i lose motivation very easily. the very productive summer (well for writing on Tumblr) I had was more or less a phase, which hurts to admit.
but i do want to write because i always have thoughts rolling in my head. to even think that what i write can be interpreted as art...it's insane, i can't even believe it.
and yeah i love toxicity too, there's beauty and danger in it, and writing is probably the only medium where the fiction of toxicity is beautiful. sorry for getting rambly. please have a wonderful year as well.
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I’ve read this fic many times before and it never fails to disappoint.
Sugar Daddy turned sour
Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)…Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁
A/N: I don’t know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜
Here for Part 2
Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.
Yandere! Taehyung
Yandere! Jungkook
Sunday.  Taehyungs day.  
You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.  
“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is. 
You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.
“How was your weekend?”  He finally gets around to asking. 
“Not so good. I always have to work so much,“ You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.  
“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already.  And you have the same answer ready as always. 
“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention.  “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.” 
In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else.  But he doesn’t need to know that. 
While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone.  You know what’s happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment. 
You open it up. Yep. That’s rent for the month.  Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.  
“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t.  I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face. 
Keep reading
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finding fics like this is like finding water in the Sahara. can’t get over the dynamic. in love with gojo’s brand of menacing, geto’s callousness, reader’s naïveté. didnt want it to end.
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featuring. college au!gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru
wc. 9.2k
genre. dark/taboo, smut, angst
tw. 18+ nsfw, non/dubcon, toxic/abusive relationships, manipulation, victim blaming, dry humping, penetration, masturbation, irresponsible practice of bdsm, hair pulling, mild exhibitionism, size kink (both 6’3”, gojo can lift you), implied corruption kink, degradation, creampie, intoxication/alcohol, incel behavior, misogyny, dacryphilia
synopsis.
“Parading around as my personal fucktoy get you that excited?” he starts with a smirk, wide eyes drinking up your sharp inhale as if it were his own, inspiring pinpricks of heat to rise to your cheeks.
He hooks the hem of your skirt with his thumbs when he’s met with silence, pulls you from the doorframe just far away that he can release the elastic with a snap, silent snigger on his lips when it elicits a small sound of surprise from you. You nod in response, frantic bob of your head drawing a low growl from his chest and a “that’s right, I know what’s best for my pet,” as he lifts you off your feet and carries you to the bedroom.
notes. title inspo: love the way you lie (eminem, rihanna). you’re dating gojo, a charming, manipulative, self-entitled bastard. geto is, of course, his best friend, written as an aloof, self-righteous, bitter incel. please stay safe, read all the warnings, and enjoy. this is the most personal fic i have to offer. it draws from not-so-savory past relationships… i hope it remains the only testament to them. <3
links. broken toys. (sequel)
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Keep reading
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I love yoongi. So this is really hitting the spot
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pairings. yoongi x f!reader, hoseok x f!reader
synopsis. your chauffeur wouldn’t mind the millionaire fucking you in the back of his car… right?
genre. vintage au! chauffeur!yoongi. dancer!reader. millionaire!hoseok.
word count. 3.4k
warnings. NONCON!!! smut (penetrative sex, car sex). physical abuse. emotional abuse. sexual abuse. implication of prostitution. slut-shaming. job-shaming. manipulation. blackmail. threatening. blood. use of guns. gunshot sound effect. slight gunplay. mentions of financial struggles.
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it was a cool, autumn evening in 1989. yoongi parked his car by the side of a bustling street and stepped out to take a smoke. but as his hands were feeling the skin of his almost empty cigarette pack, he caught sight of two sophisticated men doing the same just a few feet away.
he discreetly slid his pack back into his pocket and he casually strolled to the pair with a wide grin. “fine weather, ain’t that right, gentlemen?” he said when he stood next to them, their hundreds of dollars suits contrasting his half a hundred red one. they looked at him and smiled awkwardly. “do you mind if i…” yoongi nodded to the abundance of nicotine sticks in one of the men’s grasp, “forgot mine at home and my head’s brewin’ a storm.”
the man glanced at his friend, who only shrugged, before telling yoongi, “i mean— it ought to be alright.” he hesitantly held the camel pack to yoongi, who manages to go unnoticed when he takes two cigarettes instead of one. yoongi slipped one of them through his lips and the other into his pocket, then leaned to touch its end to the lighter (without even taking the lighter out of the gentleman’s hand, without even uttering a thank you, without even giving a single sliver of attention to the strangers’ bewilderment).
then, after a wink and a ‘ciao!’, yoongi jogged to his black thunderbird. he gripped onto the dingy knob and swung the door, falling into the seat with a grunt and an inhale of smoke.
“what a deceiving man you are, min yoongi.”
he eyed the mirror to look at the woman in the backseat.
you sat with your legs crossed and your head turned to the window. the blazer gracefully placed over your lap covered your bare thighs, but doesn’t hide the rest of the provocative outfit you wore; a shimmering, sapphire body suit with shining sequins. yoongi felt captivated by the bold, blue hue of your lids, the glow of your cheeks, and the red of your lips. he was silent, trying his best to seem uninterested, as the stick slacked in his mouth. 
your attention shifted from the scenery to his gaze that lingered a little too long. he blinked and looked forward.
“deceiving?” he said through a shake of his head, “ms. _____, i’d prefer you use the word cunning.” 
you rolled your eyes. this was a phrase min yoongi used far too often to get out of your lectures.
“and besides,” he continued after turning on the engine, “was short on cigarettes. can’t waste an opportunity like that, can i?”
truthfully, the man was short on a lot of things; a decent place to live without busted walls, a good pair of leather shoes that weren’t worn out, the green requirements for a quick car repair. the man was short on cash, and you had plenty of it. he stopped taking on wacky jobs for meager money and became your chauffeur a few months back. you were in desperate need of one since no one else wanted to drive an exotic performer, even if you were the most well known, most anticipated, highest paid dancer in the city. they didn’t fancy being ‘a whore’s driver’ (and you thought: god, people were stupid).
but yoongi paid no mind to those names. as he once directly said, “they can call me ‘yoongle the poodle, _____’s puppy’, i don’t give a shit about what they say. words don’t do anything. if they try something funny, then they can expect a gun up their ass.”
with both of your different demands, you couldn’t let him go. so, you let sly little situations like today pass as long as no one was hurt.
you eyed him as he blew out another cloud. “don’t smoke in the car.”
“my car,” he sighed in the exhale and shifted the vehicle into drive, “my rules.”
you turned back to the scenery to your side when the car reared and began to move. “you can at least roll down the window,” you muttered.
he contemplated, then reluctantly followed your advice. you might have needed some clean, refreshing air, considering what was to come later that night.
Keep reading
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Sorry to bother you, but due to the black font on your master list, a lot of the link titles are hard to read. If there another color you could change it to? It’s cool if you don’t want to. You don’t have to change your entire list for one person. It’s just hard to read and I wanted to let you know.
no bro u r totally right. my mlist is so inaccessible and ive been 2 lazy 2 change it, which is not an excuse. i complain about bad interfaces all the time, and i will ASAP change it.
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Why do people stop commenting on fics if they’re more than a week or two old? Please comment on old fics. Tell me you like my one shot from 2014. Tell me you like my old multi-chap I finished in 2016 that I spent a year writing. I will be fucking thrilled.
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Bruv when u wrote the line “sheesh were u rlly about to hit ur girl?” It was a cultural reset literally me and my friends quote that all the time it’s so ahhhhhhh
YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS?
goddamn. i also have besties i send fics too (that said we all have very diff tastes...and they're not into darkcon at all so those are far and in between) and the fact that PEOPLE ARE DOING THIS TO MY FIC.
yeah cocky!frat boy eren whose just taunting was so fun to write. IM SO HAPPY YALL APPRECIATED IT. man i love you and your friends
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the experience of writing something, posting it, and then having people comment about their favorite parts through their eyes is just. such an incredible experience. it’s like getting to re-read your own writing again for the first time and it always gives me such a giddy feeling when people pick up on things i don’t realize i’m putting out. 
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I get why some people might be into it. Zero judgement here. But personally, it's a huge freaking turn off. Like damn, that feeling where you want to be powerless and controlled by your fave, but your fave can't even lift their ass from the goddamn couch
Woah. Is this start of a debate.
Okay so good point. I didn’t even think it could be erotic. Very much each to their own. For example, I’m so down with cold & apathetic faves
BUT LIKE THEY HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF ME💀
I’ve mentioned it earlier but I absolutely adore fics where the character is like always infantalizing us and monitoring us, making us completely dependent. As a very lazy person, my fave can’t be a lazy too! 😭😭 nothing would be done then.
Sometimes I’ll read a fic and I’ll reach the part where the character is telling stressed out reader to quit her job and that he’s going to take care of everything. makes me want to sob into my pillow bc Ik that’ll never happen to me 💔💀 [Ironic and anti feminist of me bc I was literally reading a paper for my sociology class at how a major motivation for women to work is not to be dependent on a man, and it was a really good and insightful paper!]
ANYWAYS. While I can’t quite relate to this fantasy I totally pictured it in my head and the last line is so visceral and funny HHA. thanks for sending this ask!
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