#then I’m not going to be impressed when I dragged my ass OUT of mental illness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

she-karev · 1 month

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Cousin Jen

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Six

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Summary: Andrew talks to Matt while Amber and Jen tour the hospital and run into Alex who has an interesting reunion with Jen. The GIF above shows her reaction.

Words: 3366

Andrew is in the neuro lab and decides to check Matt’s vitals as he sits in a chair next to a table filled with journals and textbooks.

Matt looks at the table in interest and asks Andrew as he wraps a BP cuff around his arm, “You’re working with Shepherd for the research contest?”

“Yeah, she asked me to assist and I said yes right off the bat.”

“You know when I first heard about this contest, I wondered why I didn’t get into surgery and I remembered it’s not my fancy.” Matt says enviously as Andrew pumps the cuff.

“Personality thing?” Andrew asks.

“Nah I grew up watching House MD and I wanted to be that growing up.” Andrew grins at that reference, “I mean except for the painful limp, the opioid addiction and being an antisocial ass. What about you? Did you watch any medical dramas that got you hooked?”

“Not really.” Andrew records the BP and takes the cuff off, “I come from a family of surgeons so it was kind of in my blood. We made fun of those shows and pointed out the inaccuracies. BP is normal.”

“I’m a doctor so I know that syncope causes low blood pressure, I don’t know it that’s good or not.” Matt says worried.

“Don’t worry we’re gonna get answers soon.” Andrew puts the cuff away, “How long have you had these spells?”

“Um about 12 days, it first started at work. I was going over scut when I suddenly passed out on the table. I was up for 15 hours I just thought it was exhaustion so I passed it of as nothing until the restaurant.”

“And did you have any headaches or was anything out of the ordinary before the spells?”

“Nope nothing. I’m a medical mystery, this is not how I wanted to relive an episode of House.” Andrew grins at that, “You know I’ve known Amber for a long time now and I can tell she likes you; I’m talking like you on a whole other level. She might not show it I mean I know she can be…”

Andrew nods knowing the answer, “Yeah she is, but she’s also fun and funny and beautiful.”

“Oh good you see that.” Matt grins, “It’s just that I feel like I have to be her cheerleader with the guys she dates because they all think she’s this cold and closed off bitch and they treat her like it. I mean it’s probably why she hasn’t had a substantial relationship in the time I’ve known her. That and they all look at Jen and hit on her right in front of Amber…and me.”

Andrew’s eyes widen at that, “It sounds like she could pick them better back then.”

Matt shrugs, “It’s more like she’s a magnet for assholes. It has me and Jen convinced her parents put a curse on her at birth. Sorry I’m probably revealing too much you just seem like a good guy and Amber deserves that after everything. And you not running after you found out makes me worry, she’s not gonna take it well if you stomp on her heart further into this relationship.”

Andrew nods, “Don’t worry about it I get it and she’s lucky she had you two when she was in New York. Look I get that you think I’m gonna run but I’m not and certainly not because of Amber’s past. I had a crappy childhood too; I had a parent who went through a mental health crisis too. I didn’t have it near as bad as she did, I didn’t shove pills down my mom’s throat or went into foster care because it was so bad. But I get how it can drag you down and I’m not gonna do that to her. If it doesn’t work out it won’t be because of her past or how I treat her, I promise.”

Matt looks at him impressed, “Maybe don’t say all of that to Jen because the hot doctor schtick with the sensitive soul might make her leave me for you.”

Andrew chuckles at that, “Well from what I’ve seen that’s not gonna be an issue for you two. I mean she said yes to marrying you and traveled across the country so you could get a diagnosis. Plus, Amber approves of you two which speaks volumes.” Matt nods in agreement and DeLuca gets a page. He pulls out his phone, “Shepherd wants us to meet her in the peds floor, let’s go.” He and Matt leave the lab to meet Amelia.

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Jen and I walk down the hall to the board room passing Jo as she and the interns do rounds. I’m sure from a regular hospital staff member’s point of view we look strange together. They see me in my scrubs and her in her designer clothes and well-done ponytail and think why are they together? It’s what so many of my med school classmates think and I can understand it but I also know that despite our differences Jen was there for me when no one else was.

Every heartbreak or research paper stress she was always there to help and talk to me and take me away for a while. It helps that both of our fathers were deadbeat junkies. The only difference is her mom is saner than mine and took her away from him when she could. I think that’s why she’s more stable than me and why she’s the joy to my gloom, she had some stability unlike me. I don’t resent her for it though if anything she’s the only one who has given me stability when I needed it. Jen looks around at the pastel walls and toys on the desks and I realize we went the wrong way.

“Damn it.” I say frustrated, “Wrong way, we’re on the peds floor this place is a maze. I’ll get us out don’t worry.”

“Hey so I didn’t want to tell you this in front of the guys because I figured you’d go to your dark place.” I look at her curious as we continue walking down the hall, “Your mom keeps leaving me messages I think like four this week.”

I groan at that unfortunate tidbit, for some reason my mom has been trying to talk to me for the past year and of course I declined. The only time my mother called me was to ask for money or when she goes off her meds and rants to me about what a colossal disappointment I am. It aggravates me she’s using Jen to get to me, “Yeah well I hope you told her I’m closing down the library every night.”

“I told her I haven’t seen you.” Jen grins knowing how much I detest my mother, “For all I know you could be a crack ho by now.”

I chuckle darkly imagining my mom’s face hearing that, “That is perfect thank you. Speaking of my side of our messy family I should tell you something before you-”

“Alex!” I freeze on the spot and look up to find Alex with Amelia talking to Andrew and Matt. He looks in our direction after Jen called his name.

“Oh no.” I know what she’s planning and I need to stop it, “Okay quick word before you do what you want to-”

Jen ignores me and walks to Alex with a fake chuckle and smile acting like it’s a fond reunion, “Alex Karev! It’s me Cousin Jen!”

Alex looks shocked and remembers her, “Jen hey it’s been a long-” Alex gets interrupted with a slap to the face by Jen that causes me to look down in embarrassment as I approach them. Andrew and Matt look at her in shock, no doubt thinking I would sooner slap someone in public than her. Amelia looks amused at Alex who rubs his jaw clearly in pain. I mouth sorry to Alex as I stand next to Jen.

Jen frowns at him dusting her hands, “That’s for being a shit and leaving my sweet cousin with my shit father.”

I clear my throat loudly, “Read the floor honey peds floor means floor for kids, so ixnay on the cursing and the slapping.”

Alex sighs and looks more sad than angry, “I take it Amber said nothing but good things about me.”

“To be fair.” I start, “I hated your guts, you know that and so does she and I didn’t tell her we made up and the slap was unnecessary.”

Jen looks at me surprised and with a little bit of guilt, “You two made up? You don’t hate him anymore?”

I shake my head, “No more than I normally should.”

“Oh.” Jen looks taken back for a moment but turns to Alex with a warm grin, “Well in that case come here.” She pulls Alex for a hug who looks surprised by the sudden change in tone but hugs her back and they pull apart.

“Hi I’m Dr. Shepherd I’m gonna be your fiancé’s doctor.” Amelia greets her and shakes her hand, “DeLuca told me what’s happening with Matt, now I have to do a neuro consult but I’m gonna have DeLuca run basic tests and do a brain scan to see if we find anything.” She looks to me, “Are you fine keeping her company while this happens?”

I nod, “Yeah I was gonna find Avery to tell him I’m gonna help out with Matt…and would one of you tell me where to boardroom is? Because I’m lost.”

Andrew grins and Matt quips, “She sucks at directions, one time she took a train to Queens and ended up in Canada.”

“Don’t you have tests to do?” I snap and the men walk away to do so. I look at Alex, “So the boardroom?”

Alex grins, “First floor room 1204 it’s across the bridge.” I thank him and we both walk away from them.

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We finally find ourselves on the right floor and I exhale in relief, “There he is finally let’s go.”

Jen grabs my arm stopping me with an ogling look directed at Avery, “Wait a minute that’s the guy you’re working for?”

“Yes.”

Jen chuckles impressed, “Jesus how many hot doctors work here?”

“Oh, stop it.” I tell her annoyed but she keeps grinning, “Aren’t you engaged?”

“Yeah.” Jen confirms nonchalant, “But that doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

“I will be if you keep drooling over my boss so can you-”

“Karev.” I turn to Jackson who stops in front of us with his mother, “Thank god I found you please tell me you have the basis for the proposal.”

“Actually, that’s what I was coming to talk to you about.” Jackson notices Jen next to me and looks at me curious over who she is, “Sorry Dr. Jackson and Catherine Avery this is my cousin Jen Evans.” They shake hands.

“Hi, it’s very nice to meet, Amber told me a lot about you.”

Jackson looks at me flattered, “Really? You talk about me?”

I narrow my eyes annoyed, “Okay take a testosterone blocker, I’m here to tell you I can’t work on the research project with you today.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, I’m working with Dr. Shepherd and-”

Jackson chuckles lightly, “Let me guess Shepherd got your boyfriend to convince you to join the dark side and spill all of my plans with her did she?”

I glare at him, “I need to figure out why my beloved cousin’s fiancé is experiencing syncope and make sure he’s healthy in time for their wedding.” I inform him coldly causing him to be silent for a moment before responding.

“I see well that’s a pretty good reason to take a break.”

Catherine chips in, “Well with her out of the way does this mean you’ll have time to help me with my project?”

Jackson closes his eyes and looks at Jen apologetically, “I am sorry for my mother she has no filter.” He turns to his mom, “Mom, Dr. Valez has a great pitch. She does, all right? And you guys should do it. You should enter the contest and change a bunch of lives. But I already got my own thing going on, and, frankly, it's a little more cutting-edge than what essentially amounts to an elective cosmetic procedure.”

Catherine doesn’t back down though, “Oh, come on. Look, my birthday is coming up. You could think of this vagina as your gift to me.” I widen my eyes at that comment as well as Jen and Jackson who looks more horrified than shocked.

“Now I'm gonna go smash my head in with a hammer and see if I can forget that you said that.”

I grab his arm, “How about I help and page Qadri so she can take my place?” He nods and leads us away from his mother who yells out as we walk away.

“Jackson Avery, you are such a disappointment! I thought you were woke!” Jackson groans at that and looks at Jen with apologetic eyes as we walk with him in the middle.

“Sorry about that my mother can be a handful sometimes and her mouth speaks before her brain does.”

Jen chuckles, “Oh don’t apologize drama helps distract me from my drama. So, what was all that about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um my mother has an idea for the surgical innovation contest and thought I should ditch mine to help hers.”

I snap my focus on him suddenly interested, “What? What could she possibly have that’s more interesting than freaking spray on skin?”

“Spray on skin?” Jen asks.

I explain, “We’re doing this contest to see who comes up with an idea to revolutionize surgical medicine and Avery’s is replacing painful skin grafts with aerosolized stem cells.”

Jen groans, “It’s like I’m living with you again, words for the basic hairdresser please.”

Jackson steps in and grins as he explains, “Okay so you know how burn victims need to have their burned skin taken out and replaced with healthy donor tissue?” Jen nods, “Well it’s effective but it’s also painful and the graft doesn’t always take not to mention there’s scarring and discoloration.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good method.”

“It isn’t.” Jackson confirms, “Which is why I want to find a way to use stem cells in aerosolized form like what you use to wet your client’s hair. Only instead of water I’m using a skin sample from the patient that’s broken down into liquid and spray it on the burned tissue. Then the enzymes will regenerate and provide viable coverage, it’ll be like the skin is formed and it heals over the burn wound.”

Jen looks at him impressed, “You know how to do that?”

“Not yet.” I chip in, “That’s why we’re doing research so we can get money for the supplies we need and test subject availability. Then we can move forward so this can revolutionize skin grafting entirely and both of our names will be legend status.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow at me, “And of course saving a bunch of lives and making it so burn victims don’t suffer more than they should.”

“That too.” I suddenly remember something, “Oh hey how did it go?”

Jackson looks at me confused, “How did what go?”

“You left the bar with hoop earrings; I’m surprised I would think denim skirt would win you over she had very toned legs. How was it? Did you get a little lady luck on your side?”

Jen chuckles, “Oh my god your wingmanning again? Is this what your so busy with you can’t go to a salon?”

I defend myself, “I have a gift and Avery is desperate and lonely he needs help.”

“You know I can hear you right?” Jackson quips, “And I just sent hoop earrings in a cab nothing happened.”

I look at him shocked and a little offended, “What? You didn’t sleep with her?” He shakes his head, “Was there something wrong with her?”

Jackson rubs the back of his neck, “You know it just didn’t feel right that’s all.”

I scoff but shake it off, “Okay fine well maybe Priya will change your mind.”

“Is Priya denim skirt?”

“No, she’s blue blazer.” I scroll through my notes, “She was really nice we got to talking and she’s a lawyer, a human rights lawyer.”

Jen gushes, “Oh human rights that’s nice it’s generous.”

“See even she sees it.” I find the info, “I have her number here I will text it to you.”

Jackson stops us outside the lab, “Look Karev I appreciate what you’re doing but I’ll think on it while you page Qadri so you can save your cousins wedding, is that good for you?”

I look at him surprised but put my phone away, “Okay fine but just to let you know in the year 2050 global warming will either drown us or burn us all to death.” Jen raises an eyebrow at me, “And by then you’ll have to depend on your daughter to change your diapers.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow at me, “Exactly how old do you think I am?” I open my mouth but he speaks before I can, “No never mind I can already tell I won’t like the answer. I will text you for Kiya’s number.”

“Priya.” I correct.

“I’ll consider her too.” Jackson grins and I glare at him even as he enters the lab leaving us in the hall.

I turn to Jen who grins at me, “He needs me.”

“I’ve seen him he doesn’t need your help to get women.” Jen and I walk down the hall, “Something is holding him back or maybe someone.”

I snort, “And you know this how?”

“You’re good at biology I’m good at loveology.” I chuckle at her word, “Hey come on five years of cutting hair and endless gossip and silly arguments provides you with a certain skill set you can’t get in a hospital. Trust me when I say your boy is in conflict either that or he’s in the closet.” I chuckle at that and lead her down the hall so we can go to the neuro lab where the boys and Shepherd are waiting for us.

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Andrew and I go over the labs and brain scans up on the board while the happy couple are behind us waiting anxiously. We were able to get Matt’s labs and brain scans back fairly quick while Alex and Amelia were checking on a patient. I look at the brain scans closely to see if Shepherd missed anything but to my chagrin, she was right that Matt’s brain was healthy and showed no signs of abnormality.

“There’s not contusions or inflammation or anything out of the ordinary.” I turn to Matt and Jen, “It’s not a tumor as I’d previously suspected.”

Andrew looks up from the tablet where he’s reading Matt’s labs, “Labs are clear your cholesterol is a little high for someone your age but otherwise you’re the picture of health.”

Jen sighs, “That’s good right?” Andrew and I look at each other worried, “Why doesn’t it feel good?”

Andrew puts the tablet down, “Well we ruled out neuro so we have to check if this is cardio related.”

Matt nods, “Today it’s brain, tomorrow is hearts I wonder what the next day is, Japanese?” Jen grins slightly and turns to us worried.

“What’s happening to him? Should we be worried?”

I shake me head, “I’m gonna talk to our chief of cardio Dr. Pierce.” I inform them, “I’m gonna try to schedule you for an EKG an MRI and an exercise stress test, would you be up for it?”

Matt nods, “Yeah sure run what you need to just as long as I get out of here soon.” I nod and turn to walk when Jen calls to me.

“You fix Matt, do you hear me?” I stop to face her worried expression as she grips Matt’s shoulders like she’s afraid he’ll disappear, “It’s like I said, he’s my one and only.” I nod full heartedly and turn to walk away more determined to help them than ever.

#greys anatomy #greysedit #headcanon #amber karev #andrew deluca #alex karev #elizabeth gillies #giacomo gianniotti #liz gillies #ariana grande #arigrandegif #matt bennett #victorious #cat valentine

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kjack89 · 2 years

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The Only Honest Art Form

The Lenny Bruce-esque sorta-kinda Mrs. Maisel AU that I just couldn't resist writing.

1950s comedian AU, E/R, developing relationship.

Enjolras glanced almost nervously around himself before descending the few stairs to the grubby-looking door underneath the flickering neon sign. He pushed the door open and was met immediately by a veritable screen of smoke, both cigarette and otherwise, and the particular smells that always seemed to accompany bars.

Not that Enjolras spent much time in bars, save for on the rare occasion when he was dragged somewhere, usually by Courfeyrac, to meet someone, usually an attempted date being disguised as a comrade.

But Joly and Bossuet had cornered Enjolras one night after a Les Amis meeting to tell Enjolras that there was a comedy act he needed to check out. “Comedy?” Enjolras had asked, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t think—”

“Believe me, whatever you think is wrong,” Bossuet had said.

Joly had nodded. “Seriously,” he said, clearly picking up on Enjolras’s lingering skepticism. “This guy is a helluva lot more than just a comic. He’s saying things about free speech that I’ve only dreamed of having the balls to say at one of our protests.”

So despite his better judgment, Enjolras had made the schlep on a Saturday night to the nondescript comedy club in the Village to see—

“That’ll be a buck-fifty.”

Enjolras shook his head to clear it before realizing that what he had assumed was a pile of coats just inside the doorway was actually a young man. Or woman. It was hard to tell, and seemed rude to assume one way or the other. “Pardon?” he said politely.

The woman – Enjolras was more convinced now that the figure was a woman, despite the unlit cigar chomped firmly between her lips – rolled her eyes. “Door charge,” she said shortly, mumbling around the cigar. “It’s a buck-fifty, and a two drink minimum.”

Enjolras had expected a drink minimum, even if he wasn’t thrilled by it. “What if I give you five bucks, and we skip the drinks?”

She looked distinctly unimpressed. “What if I shove my foot up your ass and tell you to pound sand?”

“A buck-fifty and two drinks it is.”

He passed the money over to her before asking, in what he hoped was a casual way, “So has Grantaire gone on yet?”

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Who do you think is fellating the microphone as we speak?”

The man onstage was in fact doing a fair impression of oral sex, presumably as some kind of punchline, given the way that the audience was falling over themselves, and Enjolras wrinkled his nose. “So much for saying things about free speech,” he muttered to himself, making his way over to the bar where he asked the bartender for two beers, neither of which he intended on actually drinking.

As the bartender poured, Enjolras sat on a barstool and for the first time took a good look at the man onstage. He looked to be a few years older than Enjolras, and was wearing a rumpled suit with a loosened dark green tie. He didn’t look much like what Enjolras had expected, not that Enjolras knew what he had expected in the first place. A beatnik, maybe, complete with the black turtleneck and sunglasses and—

Dear God, Enjolras was beginning to sound like his mother.

The bartender slid the beers across the counter to him and Enjolras took a grateful swig from one, happy to have the distraction from his impending mental breakdown at the comparison to his mother.

He took another sip as he finally tuned into what Grantaire was saying. “So anyway,” Grantaire said, clearly wrapping up a bit, “as I told my manager, that’s the last time I’m going to San Francisco.”

That statement was met with enough laughter and applause that Enjolras almost wished he had heard the joke that preceded it. “Which is a shame,” Grantaire continued, “because it’s a great city full of lovely people. But apparently they operate under a ‘three strikes and you’re out’ policy for obscenity arrests, which, y’know, is very All-American of them, but does pose a problem for me.”

The mention of obscenity arrests piqued Enjolras’s interest, and he sat forward on his barstool. “And which seems especially odd given that San Fran is full of fags, but hey, what do I know.” Grantaire said the word so casually that Enjolras almost didn’t flinch, and he immediately glanced around to see if anyone else had caught it, or his reaction to it, but no one was looking at him. Nor did anyone seem remotely surprised by Grantaire’s casual use of the word. “Well, this is what I do know: even if that’s true, you apparently shouldn’t say it. Not unless you’re calling someone a fag, at least. That, people get free passes on.”

“Joe McCarthy called me a fag once.” Low murmurs broke out throughout the club but Grantaire just waited them out, seemingly unconcerned. “Yeah, I know. It was a surprise to me, too. So I took my dick out of his mouth and I said, ‘Joe, don’t talk with your mouth full.’”

The laughter that met that was startled but uproarious, and Enjolras couldn’t help but whistle and clap along with the rest of the crowd, somehow feeling a weight slip off of him. Enjolras had spent so much of his life trying to avoid being called that, or being connected to those kinds of sex acts, that he could hardly believe that someone was standing on a stage, mentioning it as casually as remarking on the weather, and not only were people not fleeing in the opposite direction, but they were actually cheering for him.

Grantaire waited for the crowd to calm down before continuing, “Interestingly, that joke got me arrested the last time that I was in DC, again on obscenity charges. I asked them which was more obscene, the dick sucking or Joe McCarthy.”

More laughter, but this time, Grantaire spoke over the crowd. “I know, I know, you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead. So in that case, let me just say, to his credit, the absolute best thing that Sen. Joseph McCarthy ever did was die.”

Enjolras didn’t expect that line to get as much raucous applause as it did, but then again, Joseph McCarthy had become a bit of a laughing stock following his censure a few years back. If only that meant his ideals had become an equal laughing stock, but Enjolras wasn’t about to hold his breath on that.

“But hey, let’s not overstate his legacy, right?” Grantaire said, taking the microphone off of its stand before resting his elbow on top of the stand. “Because this is America, and we have that little thing called the First Amendment, which says that I can stand up here and say whatever the fuck I want…” He paused, rather deliberately. “And then promptly be arrested for it. The American Experiment, brought to its knees by a joint fear of communism and homosexuality.”

Gone was Grantaire’s previously sardonic tone, replaced by something more like bitterness, and he took a moment, seemingly to gather himself, before continuing, in a slightly more upbeat way, “Listen, I respect their aim of conflating communists with homosexuals, but I just don’t think it works in practice. I mean, have you seen a gay man when there’s a sale at Bergdorf’s? Hell, Liberace’s practically single-handedly supporting the sequins industry.” He paused before adding, “That is, of course, a joke, lest Mr. Liberace comes after me like he went after the Daily Mirror. I’m less concerned about the implications of that because I’m not a British citizen and have in fact been banned from entering the UK as an ‘undesirable alien’.” Again Grantaire paused, this time to wink at a woman sitting towards the front of the club. “Which is what my last girlfriend called me, too.”

The laughter that met that was somewhat gentler than before, and Grantaire straightened, strolling casually toward the left side of the stage. “But seriously, I’ve been told that it’s because homosexuality is an affront against God, and communism is antitheist, so they go hand-in-hand, apparently.” He shrugged. “Personally, I think God’s probably got more important stuff to deal with than communists, and Jesus was a confirmed bachelor who traveled around with 12 other guys, so. I’m gonna let you draw your own conclusions on that one.”

“Besides, if anything, in my experience, homosexuals help turn people away from godlessness. Or at least, that’s sure what it sounded like when the guy I was fucking last night kept screaming, ‘Oh my God, oh my God.’”

That joke drew enormous laughter, and Grantaire allowed himself a smile before pointing into the audience. “That cat knows what I’m talking about.” He wandered back towards the microphone stand. “Of course, that’s another joke that got me arrested, once again for being obscene.” He returned the microphone to its stand as he asked, “Have you heard about this thing, the Roth test? Yeah, the Supreme Court said that Congress can outlaw anything that is ‘utterly without redeeming social value’.” He gave the audience a knowing look. “I look forward to Congress outlawing the Supreme Court under the same guise.”

“But seriously,” he continued, “who decides what has social value? I get up here, I tell some jokes, you fine people laugh. How is that not social value?”

“Of course, probably the biggest example of no redeeming social value that the various authorities has tried to pin on me was for making a joke about the Pope, which, I mean. Have you seen the hat?” This time, the joke was met with a few boos and shouts, and Grantaire grinned. “I see we’ve got some Catholics in the audience tonight, folks, so I apologize in advance to each of you and your dozen siblings. But that’s what I mean – the jokes write themselves. You can accuse me of being a lazy joke writer if you want, but I don’t think you can say it’s obscene to point out the obvious.”

He paused. “Which is that the Pope’s hat is uncomfortably phallic.”

“Again, lazy, but obscene?” He shrugged. “I dunno.” He shook his head. “People get weird about religion though, man. Specifically Christianity, or, Christ, Catholicism, Jesus, don’t get me started. And like, they can dig if you’re a Jew, or a Muslim, maybe, just as long as you don’t talk badly about Christianity. Let alone if you make the fatal error of saying that you don’t believe in the Christian God.”

His tone had again slipped into something less joking, and Enjolras found himself leaning forward in his seat again. “Because the thing is, you gotta pay attention to the wording, y’know? Our friend the First Amendment, it says free exercise of religion, not free exercise from religion. People in this country, they get very uncomfortable when you start talking about beliefs, but they get even more uncomfortable when you talk about not having any beliefs. Like, how can you not believe in God?”

Grantaire’s expression twisted. “And I look around at the world and I ask, how can you?”

He forced a chuckle and shrugged again. “But seriously, questioning the existence of God is actually a religious act in and of itself, if my grandmother’s rabbi is to be believed, and as someone who is kind of Jewish on my mother’s side, I say that the First fucking Amendment should protect my right to just kind of shrug and say, ‘I dunno’ when asked about my beliefs.”

“And as someone who’s kind of an alcoholic on my father’s side, I honestly couldn’t give a fuck what you believe as long as you keep pouring.”

That garnered the loudest applause yet, and Grantaire laughed lightly before saying, “Listen, I don't know if God is real or not. I don’t really care one way or the other. But belief – I wish I had that kind of confidence, honestly.”

“Truth is, I believe in one thing, and one thing only: my full glass. And since mine is looking a little empty, and since I haven’t yet said anything to get me arrested, it’s probably as good a sign as any that it’s time to wrap it up.”

He spoke over the applause that greeted that statement, lifting the empty glass in question. “You guys have been a wonderful audience. Tip your waitresses, tip the bartender, tip me in beer and pills if you want. Just don’t call the cops and remember: fuck Joe McCarthy.”

Grantaire walked offstage to applause and whistles, and Enjolras craned his neck, watching as Grantaire accepted a beer someone offered him before slipping out of a side door. Enjolras stood, heading toward the door before doubling back to grab the beer that he hadn’t yet touched, carrying it towards the door.

He was cut off by the woman from the door, who blocked his path with crossed arms. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Enjolras stared at her. “I, uh, I wanted to…” He trailed off, not sure of the best way to get around her, or through her, or whatever. “I wanted to tip him in a beer,” he offered weakly.

Her eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh,” she said skeptically. She looked him up and down and shook her head. “Well, you’re lucky that the beer you’re offering is accompanied by that mug.” She took a step to the side and gave Enjolras a nod, letting him slip past her. “Just don’t keep him out all night.”

Enjolras didn’t bother replying, just shouldering the door open and stepping outside, the crisp air almost knocking the breath out of him. And if the cold didn’t do, almost running smack in Grantaire certainly did. “You ok?” Grantaire asked, looking amused, as Enjolras cursed at the beer that had slopped all over his hand.

“Yeah, I’m…” Enjolras trailed off, flushing when he realized Grantaire was standing all of a foot away from him, his jacket slung over the railing of the steps, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he felt his mouth go dry. “I mean, uh, I wanted to, uh…”

“Did Éponine send you back here?” Grantaire asked, saving him from his stammering, and he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

Up close, Grantaire looked exhausted, his shirt rumpled and stained, and Enjolras tore his eyes away to ask, “Who’s Éponine?”

“My manager,” Grantaire mumbled around the cigarette he’d just stuck in his mouth. “She was manning the door.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, setting the now half-full beer down on the lid of a nearby trash can. “Uh, yeah, or at least she didn’t stop me, and—”

Grantaire snorted. “And she knows my type.” He took a drag from the cigarette before telling Enjolras, “Listen, I appreciate the thought but I’m not exactly in the mood tonight, as much as I would love to see what you look like without your clothes on.”

He leered at Enjolras, who recoiled, his expression darkening. “Excuse me?”

Grantaire just looked amused. “Isn’t that what you came back here for?” he asked.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean—” Enjolras flushed. “Listen, all I wanted was—”

But Grantaire cut him off. “Look, kid—”

“I’m not a kid,” Enjolras interrupted, wincing when he realized that’s exactly how he sounded.

Grantaire had the nerve to laugh. “No? How many nights have you spent behind bars?”

Enjolras glared at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but twelve.”

Grantaire whistled. “No shit. Pretty little thing like you? For what?” He grinned. “No, let me guess.” He took another drag from his cigarette as he eyed Enjolras appreciatively. “Clean cut kid like you, can’t imagine it was a drug rap. Or indecent exposure, more’s the pity. But given how you’re glaring at me, you’ve got a righteous anger thing going on, so I’m gonna guess causing a public disturbance, maybe inciting a riot.”

Despite himself, Enjolras felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. “You forgot contributing to the delinquency of a minor,” he said, leaning against the brick wall of the club as he added, “and, of course, obscenity.”

A slow grin crossed Grantaire’s face. “No shit,” he repeated. “We have that in common.”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “We have more than that in common.”

Grantaire’s eyes darkened and he mimicked Enjolras’s position, leaning against the wall entirely too closely to Enjolras to be accidental. “I sort of put that much together,” he said, giving Enjolras a crooked half-smile, “but seeing as how I don’t exactly relish adding sodomy to your list of illustrious charges…”

Enjolras shook his head, but he wasn’t quite able to look away. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he said, but his words came out a little breathier than he intended.

No wonder Grantaire didn’t look convinced. “Wasn’t it?” he asked, reaching out to brush a blond curl off of Enjolras’s forehead. “Because what I said earlier, about not being in the mood…Well, let’s just say I can be convinced otherwise.”

Enjolras swallowed hard before blurting, “Actually, I wanted to invite you to join me and my friends.”

Grantaire blinked. “What, like an orgy?”

“No!” Enjolras snapped, straightening. “Not like an orgy. For one of our meetings.”

Grantaire’s expression fell, and he shook his head, stabbing his cigarette out on the wall. “Let me guess, you’re a bunch of activists? You want me to join one of your little protests?”

Enjolras bristled at his dismissive tone. “Well, yeah, given everything you said about the First Amendment, I just thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Grantaire said flatly, grabbing his jacket from the railing, though he didn’t put it on, just draping it over his arm. “Or did you miss my last bit about not believing in anything?”

Enjolras felt stung. “I thought that was about religion.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Religion, politics, what’s the difference?”

“So, what, you’re happy getting busted on obscenity charges every other day?” Enjolras asked, incredulous.

“What’s the alternative?”

Enjolras stared at him. “Well, for starters, if we get different people in office—”

“They’ll eventually just uphold the exact same power structures,” Grantaire said dismissively. “But seriously, if you can point to any concrete achievement that your little friends have actually gotten…”

“So is it all just an act?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. “Just something to get some laughs? You don’t actually believe in free speech?”

“It’s not me that doesn’t believe, kid,” Grantaire told him, his crooked smile back. “But until the Supreme Court says otherwise, there’s not a helluva lot any of us can do.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Then you’re braver than me by far.”

Enjolras looked at Grantaire closely. “I don’t believe that, either.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the door to the club. “What you did in there, what you said in there, those weren’t the words of a coward. Nor, for that matter, were they the words of a man who doesn’t believe a better world is possible.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe not. But regardless, I’ve got better things to do than waste my time on activism.”

“Like what?” Enjolras challenged.

Grantaire winked. “Like finding someone who will sleep with me tonight, for starters,” he said. “Since I think we can both agree that ship has pretty much sailed.”

Enjolras glared at him. “That ship was never even in the harbor.”

Grantaire just laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

He started to brush past Enjolras back into the club, but Enjolras reached out to grab his arm. “Wait—” he started, breaking off when his thumb brushed against a series of marks on the inside of Grantaire’s arm. “What’s this?”

Grantaire yanked his arm away from him. “Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about, sweetheart,” he said, rolling his shirtsleeve down and buttoning the cuff with unexpected dexterity.

“Is that the better thing you have to do?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire grinned. “Well, one of many,” he said. “But again, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “You could be just what the movement needs,” he told Grantaire, his voice low. “Your humor, and the things you have to say about obscenity, about free speech – people would listen to you.”

Grantaire shrugged. “They already do,” he said simply. “Maybe I’ll see you at another show.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said, feeling oddly deflated. “Maybe you will.”

“And who knows,” Grantaire said, “maybe you will end up changing the world…”

He trailed off expectantly, and Enjolras realized for the first time that he had never actually introduced himself. “Enjolras,” he said. “I’m Enjolras.”

Grantaire grinned. “Enjolras,” he repeated. “Well, it’s better than Apollo, which is what I was calling you in my head.” He winked again. “I’ll see you around, Enjolras.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras echoed. “I’ll see you around.”

Grantaire slipped back into the club, and Enjolras stared after him for a long moment before shaking his head and slowly starting in the direction of the subway, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d expected from this, what he’d expected Grantaire to be like, or whether he’d actually believed that Grantaire would come to a Les Amis meeting, but he knew he’d expected more than that.

He’d expected more from Grantaire.

Of course, Enjolras had never been one to just roll over and accept defeat, and as he walked toward the subway, he felt a familiar feeling rise in his chest: determination.

Yeah, he would see Grantaire again.

One way or another.

Because Enjolras wasn’t done trying to convince him.

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sesshy380 · 6 months

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Ship Ask- Longfic AU Kat x Marik edition

I had seen a ship ask game, and I wanted to be self-indulgent and just answer like 99% of the questions without having people ask them. After encouragement from others that I should just do it, I began slowly working on fulfilling my self-indulgence.

If certain things have already happened in longfic, I’ll mention the chapter where it can be found. Anything that might be a potential future spoiler (meaning it hasn’t been posted yet), I will avoid anything beyond the hinting of it being possibly explored.

Important notes for those who haven’t read longfic: Bakura, Malik (Yami Marik), and Kat (OC) are immortal elemental beings. Their canon pasts are butchered and mutated to fit my AU. Also, so people don’t freak out when reading some of the answers, the Yami’s are the biological paternal figures to their hosts. I’m not dragging out the yarn board to explain how it all works. If you really want to know, just read the insanity. It’s called Tangled Web of Fate for a reason.

Another thing to note: Kat is chronologically 5,000 years old. Physically and mentally, however, she is 16, just like Marik. I have stuck with that age for Marik since the story itself picks up one month after Battle City. If the whole ‘age’ thing bothers you, this is a good time to follow the age old art of ‘Don’t like; don’t read’.

1. Describe their first date.

Found in Chapter 11. Their first ‘date’ was the result of Kat dragging along a reluctant Marik as a distraction to calm down, and it ended with Marik being really confused about why he felt the way he did towards a girl. They both still refer to that day as the ‘not-a-date’.

2. Who wakes up early/Who sleeps in late?

Kat is not a morning person. Marik is indifferent…except when he’s up too late, as is evident in chapter 86. That happened to also be one of those times when Kat was up early…and once she’s up, she’s up.

3. What was their first impression of each other?

I know this question is meant more for the typical couple, but with these two it’s not as simple as ‘they saw the other and thought they were cute’.

Marik’s first time ‘meeting’ Kat (that he knows of) was in chapter 5 in a vision/dream…and she was a cat. He was pretty annoyed with the cat.

Kat, on the other hand, first ‘met’ Marik not long after his birth. She was more focused on her own current situation, so she only saw him as her friend’s heir and nothing more at the time.

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

They are both equal in the ‘initiates affection’ department. Kat has always been affectionate even on a platonic level, as can be seen with her weird relationship with Bakura (Marik occasionally questions if the two are really just friends, but he’s not going to be an ass and tell his girlfriend she needs to change how she acts with her bestie). Because of how affectionate Kat is on a physical level, Marik is at ease showing the same level of affection in return. He found he actually likes it.

5. Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

They’ve had a few arguments, but it’s usually because Kat has this bad habit of trying to keep herself emotionally distant (for good reason). Chapter 57 is where shit hits the fan when she confesses to having a moment of weakness and offering herself to her ex (Atem). Marik is understandably upset, and he blows up over it and storms out of the house.

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

Cuddles. Because I’m the author and I am a sucker for post-argument cuddles. No other reason.

7. How often do they say “I love you”?

Marik is the only one to have said it, and he says it often. Kat has implied it, but she’s still emotionally wounded from her marriage with Atem and the fear of being hurt again is strong enough that she actively avoids saying those words.

8. What do they love most about the other? Why?

Kat- How patient and understanding Marik has been with her. Also how he is able to relate to many of the things she says and does in his own way, and it makes her feel more ‘human’ as a result.

Marik- How Kat makes him feel like he’s in a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. He gets to explore and learn more about himself without feeling judged.

9. What do they dislike most about the other? Why?

Kat- Dislikes when Marik calls her out on some of the things she does, because she’s been oblivious to a lot of her own behavior for several millennia (too many idiots let her get away with just about everything).

Marik- Dislikes that Kat has this bad habit of doing things that benefit others at the cost of her own happiness. Too much of her personality revolves around making others happy.

10. Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?

They both like to work in the garage. Kat on muscle cars and Marik on motorcycles. Their first ‘date’ took them to a motorcycle shop that Marik had been wanting to check out, where Kat bought him his first Harley Davidson jacket (it was jean of course, because he’s vegan and won’t wear real leather). They also shared their first kiss in Kat’s garage.

11. How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?

They both use nicknames/terms of endearment.

Kat- Was the first by calling Marik ‘Pretty One’, which quickly evolved into the Egyptian Arabic ‘gamiil’. After Marik said ‘I love you’ the first time, ‘gamiil’ became replaced with the ancient Egyptian ‘sehedj-ib’, which loosely translates to ‘the one who gladdens my heart’. This was her way of expressing that Marik makes her happy.

Marik- Since they made things official between them, he has taken to calling Kat ‘habibty’. It’s his way of showing her that he considers her someone special.

12. Do they have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are they fairly independent?

Mildly independent on both their parts, unless something happens that prompts the need for concern when apart, like Marik’s concern after the events of chapter 91.

13. How do they keep in contact when they’re apart? Do they write letters, talk on the phone, or simply wait out the time?

Their time apart is mostly due to Marik attending school. They spend his lunch period texting.

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

They have no problem expressing how they feel with one another out in the open.

15. What songs remind you of their relationship?

Blinding Lights by the Weeknd

16. Would they ever get matching tattoos? If yes, what would these look like?

So this one is a bit tricky. Kat’s body instantly heals and is resistant to scarring, and Marik doesn’t like the idea of having anything that is ‘permanent’ (for obvious reasons). They would, however, both get airbrushed tattoos. It would probably be some form of a phoenix to symbolize being reborn from their past. Plus, there has to be fire to symbolize Kat’s element, which Marik found he isn’t afraid of.

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

Marik is more open in his feelings. Kat is still reserved and has a hard time saying how she feels. This is due to the emotional trauma Atem caused her across the millennia.

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

Kat doesn’t really have to worry about wounds or illness, but that doesn’t stop Marik from trying to protect her when someone does something to hurt her, or from worrying when she’s not exactly up to par. Chapter 26 and chapters 58 & 59 are good examples of this.

When Marik was nearly drained by Kat in chapter 33 (during a moment when she wasn’t entirely in control), Kat stayed by his side. She only left when Bakura woke up so she could do some damage control with her bestie, but Malik was present and she knew he would take care of Marik in her absence.

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

They do! Kat has no issue with some of Marik’s more effeminate clothing choices. If anything, she finds it cute. Marik’s only issue is when she borrows something and doesn’t put it back after. Kat has a bad habit of setting things in places she can find them later, instead of where they belong.

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Cuddles and talking. This is most effective towards Kat. Marik needs a bit more, and Kat usually sweetens the pot either with motorcycles or sex. Both are extremely effective.

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

Domestic life is okay from time-to-time, but it’s not something they would enjoy long-term. They both enjoy the thrill of living on the edge and feeling ‘alive’.

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

Very much so. They were both robbed of having a real childhood, so they are basically big children some days.

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

Patience, understanding, and acceptance. Also, the exploration of an unknown future and discovery of self.

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

Both are a mix of two different eras, which makes it where they can be genuine with each other. Marik doesn’t feel he has to hide any of his Tomb Keeper past or his time running an international crime organization. Kat doesn’t have to hide that she’s an immortal being from 5,000 years ago or any of the ‘not-human’ aspects of herself.

25. Do they share a room/house? If so, what does it look like and how does it compliment their personalities?

At the moment, they live in Kat’s house, but she’s made space in her room for his stuff. Her vanity has a lot of Marik’s jewelry boxes on it at the moment, along with his makeup. Kat is often minimalist when it comes to these things, but she still owns her share of it. It should go without saying, but Marik obviously keeps his motorcycle in the garage as well.

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

Kat- Restricts how much meat she eats in Marik’s presence since he’s vegan (and she’s literally the opposite).

Marik- Made a deal with Apep, the Serpent of Destruction, to help keep Kat’s vampire-like nature a bit more under control (Chapter 34).

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Have I mentioned these two enjoy cuddling and just being near each other?

28. Who’s the better chef? Do they cook for the other?

Kat is forbidden from cooking (she doesn’t have the patience for it). Marik isn’t really interested in learning. Both are content with take-out.

29. Describe their nighttime routine.

Marik attempting to remove his jewelry and makeup and getting distracted 99% of the time before he’s finished. He’s 16 and sharing a house and bed with his girlfriend. Hormones are in control come nighttime.

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

Kat- Gift giving and physical touch. This is her way of showing that she is paying attention to a person’s likes/wants/needs.

Marik- Giving affirmation and physical touch. Affirmation is his way of showing that the person is important enough to him that he understands what they need/want on an emotional level. It’s progressive on his part as well to step away from the ‘ME’ mentality he had before.

Physical touch is a big one that connects them (hence all the cuddling). Kat likes to touch and be touched. Marik allowing it is his way of showing his trust in her, and he enjoys wrapping his arms around her (she fits just right on his lap where he can rest his chin on her head).

31. Do they often go out on dates? What are these like?

‘Dating’ is still a new concept for Kat. She understands its purpose, but it’s something she’s never done before. Atem was Pharaoh, and they knew each other prior to that. There was no official ‘courting’, it was just Atem asking her to stand beside him and she had feelings for him so she said yes.

Marik never dated in a serious sense. All of his dates were purely casual flings or manipulation to get what he wanted (like with Remi, explained at the end of chapter 45 and continued in 46).

Chapter 85 kind of explains Kat’s side of things and continues for the next few chapters.

32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them?

Being that alcohol doesn’t affect Kat as quickly, Marik is obviously the lightweight in comparison. His first time drinking alcohol in general was with Kat (Chapter 18). He didn’t drink prior to that because he needed to keep his mind clear to control his puppets with the Rod. Kat only drinks when she isn’t concerned with the side-effect of it dampening her ability to use magic.

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worst flirt?

They are equals in that area. They both love flirting with each other.

34. Do they have any inside jokes?

Mostly sexual innuendos when flirting.

35. Is their relationship a secret? If so, why?

Nope. Though it was a huge shock to Atem who was okay with it until he regained his memories and realized that his wife had moved on with an Ishtar (he had stolen her from an Ishtar 5,000 years prior, so the irony was not lost on him).

36. How do they feel about having kids? Are they in agreement?

It’s not something that’s been discussed, because Kat has informed Marik that she is incapable. She had to enlist the aid of her father, Anubis, to speak on her behalf to the goddess Meskhenet for Yugi and Imhotep to exist.

37. Who’s more emotionally sensitive/cries more often?

Kat all the way. Marik only cries when he’s emotionally overwhelmed.

38. Who’s got a quicker temper?

Kat has a temper to match her fiery element, and it manifests on a physical level. Something has to really hit the right nerve for Marik to fly off the handle.

39. When and how did they admit that they loved each other? If they haven’t yet, why?

Marik was the first, and he regularly says it (Chapter 44). Kat has yet to say it due to emotional trauma from Atem.

40. Do they have any regrets in their relationship?

In the relationship itself, no. Things they have done since being in the relationship, yes.

41. What would they do if they lost the other?

That may or may not get explored in future chapters…

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

Fairly decent. Imhotep was an issue for a bit, but he chilled out after the events in chapter 91. Kat isn’t a fan of Ishizu…for reasons.

43. If they picked out outfits for each other, what would they look like?

This kind of already happened in chapter 79. Marik convinced Kat to dress in something more ‘fun and lighthearted’, instead of her usual all-black ‘doom and gloom’. Kat likes seeing Marik in his Battle City get-up.

44. Do they cuddle often? Why or why not?

If you read this far and don’t know the answer, I have to ask: Have you really read any of the previous answers?

45. How do they support each other? How do they rely on each others support?

Marik is able to take a lot of things Kat says and does and relate to it in his own way. By voicing those comparisons, it makes Kat feel understood and seen.

Kat does lean on Marik more in this way, but the fact that Kat doesn't judge Marik for things like how he dresses or his sexuality preferences, helps him feel less like a society outcast (considering he's still getting back on his feet from the whole Battle City fiasco).

46. Do they consider their relationship casual or serious? Is the answer different depending on who you ask? Why?

While Kat's original intention was to make Marik her casual plaything, he charmed her in an unexpected way.

Marik had no intention at all at first, but he found himself oddly drawn to Kat.

They both decided to take things seriously when they became 'official'.

47. Do they sleep beside each other? Why or why not?

Absolutely. Nothing like falling asleep cuddled up together (after having some fun).

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

Both are still recovering from their past, and it's kinda hard to bring up a future when one of them doesn't age or die. It's one of those depressing things they'd rather not explore at the moment (plus they've technically only been dating for two weeks).

49. Do they keep secrets from each other?

Unfortunately, but not because they want to. Marik is magically bound to keep the secret of Apep’s current existence (first seen in chapter 34). Kat is also bound in a way as well, in that she can’t explain the true purpose of her 3D chess table (explained a bit in chapter 60).

50. Would they ever break up? If so, why? Who would handle the breakup better?

This one is kind of hard to answer, but something may be coming in future chapters that will delve into possible break-up territory. That’s all I’m going to say on this.

And that’s all 50 questions for this pair! I am going to (regrettably) do these for longfic AU Atem and Bakura next. If you love those idiots as much as I do, keep an eye open for their version in the future. I’m hoping to have it done and posted before I go downstate for Youmacon.

#ship ask #me being self indulgent #longfic au #oc x canon #oc kat #marik ishtar #being self indulgent with the other idiots next #heed the info at the beginning #i don't want any discourse over the pairing

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violetlunette · 2 years

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How did it go poor Dabi though? It was literally just him telling us how he survived and the rest of how he came to be? I mean I don’t get why people are against the heroes actually trying to understand the villains now instead of just beating them with their fists? As it could help them maybe better society so they don’t get anymore peeps like Shiggy, Toga and Dabi! Obviously they do need to pay for their crimes, but what’s so bad about trying to understand them?

If I gave the impression that I didn’t want to understand the villains or explore their backstories, then that was an unfortunate side effect of me venting rather than critiquing. I apologize if it seemed I was insinuating that neither mattered.

*Some anti LOV elements below

I don’t mind understanding the LoV and in fact, that’s what I’m very much trying to do. The reason I may be coming off harsh is that in past works I’ve watched and read as of late, whenever they bring up a tragic backstory they don’t use it to help us understand the villain and why they did it, they use it to justify the horrible things they did and completely wave off the people they hurt. So, yeah I may be being gun shy. A pet peeve that is really harshly affecting my judgment is that all the people the villains hurt are used as props to make the villains sympathetic instead of being shown as actual people. (This I can actually say for sure and intend to prove in the future.)

But also—look, in the story, they are responsible for a shit ton of deaths and people getting hurt, and those things happened from choices the league made knowing the consequences of what would happen. (The only exception is Shigaraki who was brainwashed from childhood by AFO, and therefore has a blue and orange mentality.) You can give whatever reason you want, but at the end of the day, they are TERRORISTS. As I have said in nearly every post with the league

And I don’t want them beat up, I want them in prison where they can be held accountable for their choices.

You’re right, let’s have understanding and depending on the situation, mercy as well. But let’s also have them held accountable and have them face justice. Let’s not wave off the lives they destroyed, especially when the people they hurt had no part in their pain. If Dabe just went after Endeavor, I would be fine with him. Personality wise we’d go up and down, but as far as endeavor goes yeah. He abused you and your family, making his life hell. Make his ass miserable, just don't drag others into this.

I guess what I want is for villains to be treated like Bojack was in Bojack Horseman. Yes, Bojack had a shitty past and the story shows that what happened to him wasn’t right. However, it also stated that it didn’t make what Bojack did okay either and showed us the people he hurt, then held him accountable.

The LoV should have their stories told to prevent others from ending up like them. However, they should still be held accountable for their crimes.

As said though, I don’t have all the proper information as during the Overhaul arc my interest waned so I didn’t give it the in-depth attention I did before. As of now I am going through the manga and grabbing information and studying them so I can be fair as it’s easier to call myself out with proof before my eyes. For all I know, I may be eating some serious crow soon.

As I said in another post, during the Dabe vs Shoto fight I didn’t give it my full attention at the moment, so I was most likely wrong in my assessment. Again, this my the first read-through with recent chapters. As such, I don’t pay that close attention to parts with characters I don’t like. That’s why I haven’t made that many posts about the latest chapters, as I know that I won’t be able to be fair.

So, in summary; I may have misspoke in the past and I apologize if so, yes we should try to understand the villains to prevent others from ending up like them, but they should still go to prison since they’re murderers and terrorists.

#to all my followers pls take my vents with a huge heap of salt #in critiques I will either have proof or reference a specific chapter #or scene #everything else I am pulling out of the air from vague memories #plus venting usually isn't known to be fair #it's mostly to get stuff out of your head so you came calm down and approach the topicrationally later #* Topic rationally #:p #dumb typo #hopefully it doesn't seem like I'm attack you anon #I'm just trying my best to explain my meaning but I have trouble properly conveying my emotions while doing so #But I do agree with you believe it or not #bnha #mha #bnha venting #anti lov #anti league of villains

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dailyrandomwriter · 2 years

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Day 38

There’s a mental exercise I do randomly on occasion to take stock of any habits I’m trying to build. I used to do this more back when I was younger as a reminder that I’ve grown as an adult. A lot of people within my generation and younger often joke about how adulting is hard, or how we rarely feel like adults. Sometimes, it takes a reminder that we have grown as adults. We are adults.

Not because we the law says we are, or some arbitrary belief society has, but because we’ve grown and take on responsibilities and are able to do things we couldn’t imagine five, ten, or twenty years ago. Sometimes, we began doing those things because ‘adults’ told us we had. Other times, circumstances in life means we had to be responsible, and others sometimes it was just easier to be the one in control?

Anyhow, here is the exercise, and you can do this physically as well with strips of paper and a glass jar. It is, think about, or write down one thing you do now, or a skill you have, that you couldn’t imagine yourself doing when you were a child, teen, young adult, or even a few years ago.

Like you may grumble about not having a choice but to pay your bills, call that repair person to service something that has broken, or even drag your ass out of bed to work. But here is the thing. As a child you wouldn’t have done any of this, not just because it wasn’t your responsibility, but because you didn’t have the skills back then to do it, or the emotional/mental capability to do it because it is the responsible thing to do. Give yourself more credit for doing all those ‘adult’ things, because as well all know they’re hard.

I used to not do well in calling strangers, calling a service provider for any sort, used to leave me emotionally drained. It’s the anxiety I suppose, even back then I had anxiety but not the name of it. These days, calling is my job. Though thankfully not as a telemarketer, it’s a bit easier to be a caller of things when the thing is something people are waiting for and want. But it has helped me in my own personal life to just get my own calls done (when I remember to do so). Sometimes I look back on what I do now and can’t believe it. I was horrible at taking messages as a child (not being able to spell very well made things very difficult and not having the courage to ask again and again for spelling did not help). Now I don’t think about it, normally one wouldn’t think it important because it’s your job, but for someone who couldn’t before that means a lot.

Like I said earlier, I do this with habits too. One of the major habits I’ve been trying to build for years is to eat better. This means specifically (because vague goals are horrible), to eat less sweets and eat more fibre (fruits and veggies). There are times life is hard, like my cat getting sick or me getting sick and I slide back. That can be frustrating when habit building, but you don’t always slide back all the way. I don’t drink soda anymore, and juice is only for very fancy breakfasts on rare occasions. I still very much like milk tea, but I have to go out of my way to buy that so I don’t do that often. Which is impressive, because it’s taken me three or four tries to get rid of that habit. I certainly eat more fruits and vegetables than I did five years ago and way more than I did when I was a university student. And I do that without really thinking now, that part has become a habit. So I’m almost there, and I remind myself that any time I feel like I’m not getting anywhere.

I guess what I’m trying to say is; I know adulthood can be hard. Being responsible is hard, and no matter what people tell you, you’re not going to magically become an adult. It’s going to take time, just take the steps you need, and if you ever think you’re not getting anywhere. Remind yourself, whether in your head or on a piece of paper, of all the things you do now, you couldn’t do before. It’s there, you’re progressing, it’s just going to take a while.

And that’s okay.

#Adulting is hard #but you're doing it #be kind to yourself #I promise you're doing a good job

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timeisacephalopod · 3 years

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When I was a kid people would routinely joke that I’d be a crazy cat lady when I got older, but I never really understood why that was seen as so undesirable when being 46 with 10 cats struck me as a lot more preferable to being 46 with a husband and 3 kids when I never wanted any of that shit.

#winters ramblings #I’d rather be a crazy cat lady than a parent OR married #anyway 8 year old me was always ???? about people dissing what I thought sounded like a bitchin existence #and now that I’m 26 with 2 cats no kids and no partner I can confirm kid me had it going on #this is great and I actually LIKE my life so now I kind of feel bad for anyone who decides to insult it #because I worked fucking HARD to like what I have and who I am #and if decide to shit on that because you think having a lot of cats is akin to being mentally ill #then I’m not going to be impressed when I dragged my ass OUT of mental illness #anyway I’m happy with a life on my own with my cats. better than what people expect out of me

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sweeterthanthis · 3 years

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Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?”

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections.

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked.

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.”

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through.

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not.

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure.

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat.

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background.

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day.

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another.

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest.

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy.

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears.

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen.

James.

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick.

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time.

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.”

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in.

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?”

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer.

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.”

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss.

At the worst possible moment.

“What do we have here?”

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed.

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake.

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air.

“Finally, huh?”

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils.

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.”

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing.

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering.

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation.

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation.

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation.

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning.

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction.

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation.

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck.

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother.

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.”

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze.

Fuck him.

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair.

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another.

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere.

“What the-”

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to.

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted.

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief.

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did.

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed.

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury.

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.”

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt.

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you.

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.”

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell.

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side.

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…”

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips.

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—”

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils.

“Suck.”

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger.

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?”

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs.

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill.

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.”

“Daddy, I-”

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?”

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace.

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.”

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him.

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door.

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head.

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core.

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?”

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to.

“No? You've sure changed your tune.”

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.”

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch.

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face.

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.”

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand.

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good.

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed.

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.”

Baby.

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace.

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?”

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again.

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit.

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.”

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub.

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion.

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…”

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face.

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick.

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.”

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him.

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release.

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.”

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb.

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm.

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips.

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs.

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels.

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door.

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?”

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood.

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter.

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table.

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs.

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket.

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it.

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?”

Our girl.

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier.

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!”

“Please, call me Bucky.”

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat.

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right.

So why did it feel so wrong?

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations.

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?”

“You have no idea.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #marvel smut #stepdad!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

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Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom.

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised.

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind.

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker smut #henry cavill

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darkmulti · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your blog! So hard to find a non con writers! Ignore the haters, just keep doing what you love! You’re not alone!

So happy to see your request open! I’d like to request a NON CON where Mafia JK fell in love at first sight with innocent reader and bought her in an auction. He is obsessed with her so he marries her and deflowered her, stuffing his thick manhood in her and. JK has a bloodplay kink. He wouldn’t stop fucking her until she passed out everyday. Milking her dry from orgasms. Thank you 💜

-> Thank you for the reassurance❣️

⚠️: BLOOD PLAY, NON CON, human trafficking, virgin reader, physical, mental & emotional abuse, little/innocent!reader, ddlg-ish, manipulation

“Get the hell up, you have to get ready.”

The man kicked you in your stomach and grabbed your arm, pulling you upstairs to the bathroom

“Wear this dress and fix up your face.”

He left the bathroom and you quickly jumped into the shower

Today was the “big day”

You were being auctioned off

Obviously, you were terrified and nervous

However, your current “owners” said that if someone doesn’t buy you today, they’ll make your life a living hell

They were hungry for money and if no one wanted you, you would’ve been a big waste of their money, time and energy

Well, not really — they just needed to blame someone for their lack of success

Plus, you’re the first person that they’re selling

They kidnapped you when you were walking home from the train station

You didn’t have much family nor friends which kinda made you the perfect target

You cooperated with your two “owners” because you didn’t want to get hurt

Yet, it still happened anyways

They’d often kick you, or slap you, or pull your hair

Nevertheless, you didn’t complain because you wanted to stay out of trouble

When you finished getting ready, your “owners” tied your arms and legs together and threw you into the trunk

The auction event was big

You could tell that you this event had plenty of rich and powerful people just by looking at all the cars

Your owners took you inside through the back door and told you to fix your hair

Once you did, they dragged you behind the stage and made you wait there for nearly 3 hours

There were other girls lined up in front and behind you, half looking terrified and half looking excited

In those three hours you overheard some girls talking about a certain man they wished to be bought by

Those were the girls who were “excited”

They were talking about how they went “all out” to impress him

You tend to not judge people but, you couldn’t help yourself

Who the fuck wants to be sold to anyone?

You couldn’t wrap your head around their thought process

They were practically gushing about this mafia guy who was supposedly young and handsome

Even if he was, why the hell would you want to be someone else’s property?

You muted their voices so you didn’t have to hear their nonsense and soon enough the auction started

One by one, girls and boys went up on stage and the bidding started

You were surprised because some of those girls got sold for only a couple hundred bucks

When it was your turn, your owners basically dragged you on stage and held you wrist as tight as they could so you couldn’t run

“A young, ripe, virgin finishing up university. Starting bid, $50,000.”

One by one, people raised their auction paddles and offered more for you

Your owners went wide eyed after the bids started increasing by $10,000

You eventually passed 1 million and were near 2 million

Random old men were raising their paddles higher and higher, determined to buy you

Eventually one of them had enough and said “5 million dollars!”

The room went silent and your owners were about to say “sold!” when someone interrupted and said “10 million dollars”

Even your mouth dropped

10 million?!

The man stood up and walked closer to the stage

Your two owners recognized him and started bowing multiple times

“S-She’s all yours, Mr. Jeon! Thank you so much. Please take her.”

This was the first time you saw the two males scared and nervous

And it kinda frightened you

It took a lot to scare those two but, this guy did it effortlessly

So, what in the world would happen to you?

You got dragged off stage again and the auction continued

You were dragged into a private room where the man who had just bought you gave the two men 10 million in cash

7 brief cases stacked on top of each other, full of hundreds

The two males happily accepted and let you go with the man

He didn’t want to stick around for the event so, he pulled you out of the building and pushed you into the car

“Anders, drive us home.”

The car ride was silent in the beginning

You’re eyes were glued on the window and his were glued on his phone

About an hour later, you fell asleep against the window and he noticed

He slapped you across the face and pulled you’re body away from the door

“What’re you sleeping for? You did absolutely nothing today. Do you think you’re some kind of princess? Do you think can sleep wherever you want whenever you want? Keep your eyes open. If I catch you sleeping again, I’ll make you regret it.”

Tears gathered in your eyes and you couldn’t hold it in

You started to sniffle, making Jungkook look over at you

“Shut up! If I hear you cry, I’ll force you to walk all the way home, barefoot”

You covered your mouth with your hand and lowered your head

After taking a moment to breathe normally, you apologized

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows

“How do you know my last name?”

“I heard my owners call you by that na-”

Another smack on your cheek, this time a little harder

“How dare you call them your owners?!”

Your eyes held so much terror, and it was a turn on for Jungkook

That was the moment he realized how much control he had over you

You were so naive and innocent, it made him want to ruin you

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon! I didn’t realize! It was an honest mistake.”

“Just wait until we get home” he muttered under his breath but you were able to make it out

You were terrified and rightfully so

Once you got home, Jungkook didn’t have any mercy on you

You were running from him, not knowing where you were going

You ran upstairs into a large bedroom and locked the door

“Please, don’t hurt me!” You cried, clutching onto the top of your dress that he ripped apart

You thought he was on the other side of the door, calming down but the closet door busted open and there he was

You tried to open the room door but he was faster and pulled you back onto the bed

“Already causing so much trouble for me, little one.”

He hovered over you

“I’m sorry. I’m scared. Please, don’t kill me.”

You started to cry under him

You looked so precious, begging for your life

He couldn’t resist

He took off his suit and ripped your dress open

Underneath, you were wearing a red and black lace lingerie

He let out a low growl before attacking your neck and marking you all over

“Wait! Sir! Please! Mr- agh! Mr- Mr. Jeon! No! I’ll give you money! Please! I can give you all the money in my bank account if you just let me go! $59,000 is all I have! I can-”

Jungkook started to chuckle against your neck

“59,000 dollars? That’s all? You expect me to set you free after you give me 59,000 dollars?”

He laughed right in your face which broke your heart

It was your hard earned money

You hated to see someone discredit your hard work just like that

You frowned and got tearful

“It’s all the money I have.”

You said in a quavering voice

Jungkook looked at you

You were dead serious

“I bought you for 10 million dollars and you want me to set you free for $59,000. Anyone with a brain would deny that offer.”

He slapped you again and continued on

Jungkook sucked your neck, breast and chest; leaving dark, purple marks all over

“Wait! Mr. Jeon, I-I’m actually waiting till m-marriage.”

“That doesn’t matter, anymore. You’ll be getting married to me, anyways.”

“No! Please!”

Jungkook pulled down your underwear and rubbed two fingers up your slit, making you shiver

“So pretty. I can’t wait anymore.”

He pulled out his thick shaft and you started to panic

“No! No, no, please! I don’t want this! I don’t want to do this, please!”

He spat on your opening for some lub and pushed his whole length in harshly

You groaned in pain when he did but couldn’t fight back

Your hands were against his chest but, pushing him off wasn’t easy

He started thrusting inside of you at a cruel speed, causing you gasp really loudly before wailing

“Hey! Stop! Please! It hurts!”

Jungkook pinned your wrist next to your head and fucked you deeply

After hours of fucking, cum and blood covered his cock and the bedsheet

He smeared the blood and cum mix all over your body

“Look at you, covered in your virgin blood mixed with my cum. You look so pretty.”

You were mumbling incoherent words, unable to think straight

He forced three orgasms out of you, of course you weren’t able to think straight

Sweat covered your forehead and your tight hole was leaking cum and blood

He pushed in one more time and began fucking you hard

You were squealing under him, telling him to stop yet he slapped your ass and grabbed your throat

“Your cunt seems to love my cock. That’s why you’re cumming so much around me. So stop telling me that it hurts because I know it’s a lie.”

One more deep push and you both came together

He laid down next to you and pulled you onto his chest

“Next week, you’ll officially be mine.”

You weren’t listening

Because you were passed out

It was your first time and he had made you cum at least 17 times

It would be surprising if you didn’t pass out

Jungkook didn’t lie when he said that you’ll be his in the next week

He made one phone call and whoever was on the end of the line planned a huge wedding in a week

You woke up one day and were forced into a white gown

Once you put the pieces together, you had a panic attack

You were getting married to this man you’ve only known for a week

You were being so uncooperative to the point where Jungkook had to come to you and set you straight

He quickly fucked you back into submission and made you get ready for your wedding

After your wedding, loads of fucking

You guys didn’t even show up to your reception party because Jungkook could not stop fucking you

And it continued like this for a very long time

You weren’t sure how you were still producing cum

Every morning, every night, sometimes in the middle of the day, he wants to have sex

It’s not like he’s slow or gentle either— he’s aggressive in bed, it’s tough to handle him

You usually end up passing out and even that doesn’t stop him

The next morning you wake up tired and sore however, he wakes up needy and wanting more

Sometimes he’ll fuck you hard enough to make you pass out right in the morning

Even when he comes back from a mission, he still has the energy to fuck you

You just don’t understand

For weeks, you can’t walk straight because of him

And it hurts to put any sort of pressure on your lower abdomen

Despite all of that, you still love him

After all the manipulation and brain washing he’s done to you, he’s convinced you that you’re in love with him

And that you won’t survive without him

You’ve been craving for love and attention for your whole life and Jungkook was finally giving some

Why would you want the person who makes you feel loved and appreciated gone from your life?

Jungkook used guilt tripping to make you stay with him

Not to mention, taking advantage of your toxic past

Stockholm syndrome ending for the win 🥇

Sorry for any mistakes!! Have a good day<3

#jungkook smut #jungkook yandere #non con #bts smut #mail: 📭

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duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

heated.

a/n: first fic of 2021 and i just missed writing smut. i didn’t know how to end it lol but i feel like it’s something that we all can relate.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, quirkless AU

warnings: degradation, orgasm denial, angry fucking, intoxication (voluntarily), car sex, bakugou being an annoying little shit

pairing: bakugou x f!reader

♪ music rec: f&mu by kehlani ♪

summary: you don’t know the reason why bakugou is mad at you and purposely avoid confrontations about it. it makes you pissed and annoyed so you decide to make him taste his own medicine.

“and where the fuck are you going?” your boyfriend glares at you from the couch as he scrutinizes the skimpy dress you have on while you nonchalantly walk from the room and reach for the front door. bakugou has been giving you an attitude these past couple of days and whenever you try to confront him about it, he just ignores you and walks out of the room.

you know something is bothering him when he starts to act up but you grow annoyed when he decides to not talk about it so you plan on doing the same and let him taste his own medicine until he comes clean about what has been going around in his mind. you’re not going to let him have his way all the time.

you already list out the things that could’ve displease him but he probably wants to keep you guessing. he really got on your last nerve so you’re not going to waste time putting up with his childish behavior when he can simply be straightforward about it.

rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him. “i’m going to the club with my friends.”

you miss the twitch on his eye when you turn back around and open the door, wanting to immediately leave the house without sparing a glance back to the angry male.

“i’m coming with you,” he says, making you stop in your tracks before turning to him in confusion. “you heard me, dumbass.”

you don’t know if you’re relieved that he still chooses to tag along with you, considering the fact that he has been trying to avoid you around the house but the thought about how tense the whole car ride would be dreads you more. without leaving you a second to reply anything back, bakugou walks to the room to change his clothes.

you could’ve just ignored him and left but that wouldn’t be the best idea since he’s not in such a great mood so you wait there until he walks past you and steps out from the house.

“the fuck you’re waiting for?” he glances back at you over his shoulder while walking towards his car.

yeah, maybe you should’ve just left him.

and you were absolutely right about the car ride being tense– it easily ruined your mood too. none of you said a word (if not for the fact that he was yelling madly to a lot of people on the road) to each other and you only kept staring blankly out the window. he usually liked to put his hand on your thigh as he drove but you already expected that, judging from your past experiences.

but your mood lifts up as soon as you see your friends again, completely ignoring and oblivious to bakugou’s presence as you swallow down drinks after drinks until you feel completely lightheaded and intoxicated.

bakugou only sits down by the bar as he watches you dance with your friends. aside from wanting to make sure to run up to you if you are to pass out (he tells himself that your friends can’t carry you) or need the toilet to puke, he also makes a mental note to watch if any guys dare to get closer to you. especially when he thinks that you look absolutely stunning tonight. but he also wonders why you have to pick that dress and initially decide to wear it without having him around. he knew he would have to tag along even when he didn’t really want to.

and there comes one hungry wolf.

bakugou observes as the man slowly creeps up behind you and carefully places a hand on your shoulder and immediately draws your attention to face the stranger. he leans closer to whisper in your ear while you try to listen through the blasting music and process through your clouded head. bakugou hates to admit that the man isn’t that bad looking but he knows that you’ll push him right away and not because he is in your presence– but because even if he’s not around to look after you, he believes that it’s something you would do, so he was never worried to let you go out with your friends.

and his eyes remain still at the two of you. for the most part, he only wants to witness the rejected look on the damned dude who even dared to lay his hand on you. the bastard should’ve realized that you’re way out of his league and maybe he would save some embarrassment for tonight.

seconds pass by in minutes and you still haven’t pushed the guy away. instead, you entertain him and the whispers go back to back between the two of you as if sharing some sort of secret that only you both know. it suddenly makes him feel like he’s the intruder gawking over another guy’s girlfriend.

from his fixed gaze, it’s almost as if bakugou hasn't blinked. he doesn’t miss the giggle and the smile on your lips as he wraps his arms around you before swaying your bodies together while your perfect ass brushes against his groin teasingly.

you should know better not to do that. you should know better that your boyfriend can easily knock the guy out, doesn’t matter if he’ll get kicked out for it. you should–

oh, you know alright. and you know well what you’re doing.

the moment you turn your linked bodies to face his way with a smirk tug on your lips and the guy burying his face on the crook of your neck– he realizes that you’re trying to push his buttons.

bakugou is fuming from his seat. though the look on his face sends shivers down your spine, you can’t deny that it also makes you feel hot and bothered. but bakugou is not one to easily back down from a challenge. it’s petty and a waste of his time but a small piece of him wants to see how far you can go and he’s daring you to.

it’s starting to make you feel annoyed when he still hasn't moved to pull you away so you try to step it up and provoke him further. with the guy’s hands around your body, you start to guide them down your hips and place them on your thighs, almost letting him touch and taste the sweet nectar in the middle, but not quite. your pussy is already aching for some relief but still, you’re not one to let a random stranger help you with it.

bakugou’s hands are balled into fists– so hard his knuckles are turning white as he glares at the hands that you easily let roam around your body. the same body that only he is allowed to touch and leave marks on but he still owns the thinning patience spared inside him and continues to watch what tricks you have up your sleeves for your next act before he blows up.

you think his persistence tonight is quite surprising. usually he’d already pull you close without a second thought when a guy even dares to glance your way for too long– but at the fact that one is currently having his hands all over you? you think it’s pretty impressive at how long he’s keeping up.

so you decide to amp up.

you turn around to face back the man around you and wrap your arm around his neck. the hands that are resting on your thighs shift on your hips again and you take the chance to roll your hips more erratically to bait him into moving his hands further down to your ass by his own will.

like a moth drawn to a flame, he does just that. he shamelessly places his hands on your ass and gives it a light squeeze before shifting lower to the hem of your mini dress and deliberately grazing his fingers against the skin on your butt cheeks.

“in three… two… one…”

the guy holding you is suddenly shoved further away as your body is pulled to another muscular build. you look up to see your angry boyfriend, his red irises matching the wrath in his eyes as he glowers at the startled man.

“fuck off.” bakugou snarls and pulls you away with him before the guy can reply anything back to him. bakugou won’t be able to hold himself from beating the fuck out of him if he spares even a millisecond longer in there.

you feel sorry for using the guy, but it has been fun. bakugou’s reaction is definitely what you’ve been yearning for and your efforts have been deemed to be fruitful. that’ll show him what he gets for giving you the cold shoulder.

“katsuki, you’re walking too fast!” you complain, clicking your heels to match his pace as he has his grip on your wrist. bakugou opens the back seat of his car and forcefully pushes you in and makes you stumble on your back before getting in himself and closing the door shut.

bakugou drags you closer to him by grabbing your thighs and you blink up innocently to him when he looms above your figure in the confined space of his back seat.

“‘suki?” you feign innocence even as your thighs are already pressing together from staring back into his intense and fiery eyes.

“don’t give me that.” he snorts. “acting like you didn’t know what you did.”

“did what?” you reply coyly, jutting your bottom lip into a pout.

“oh, you don’t know?” bakugou presses your cheeks together with his hand. “open your mouth.”

he eases his grip on your face and spits in your mouth as soon as you oblige, “that’s what sluts get. swallow it.”

to spite him, you do as you’re told with no hesitation and swat his hand away, “you deserved it, asshole.”

a look of amusement quickly washes across his face, “i think you should be put in your fucking place.”

“yeah? make me.” you challenge.

“brat.” he smirks before his hand reaches under your dress to rip off your panties. you look at him in disbelief as he brings up the cloth to show how well he just shredded the pesky cloth off of you. “your favorite? oops.”

bakugou lifts up the hem of your dress to your waist and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes as he sees how you’re already drenched. “i haven’t touched you yet and you’re already this wet?” he chuckles. “a fucking dirty slut, aren’t you?”

“then it’s probably because the guy was touching me earlier.” you say mindlessly and the cocky look on his face instantly falters, his eyebrows furrow as he remembers back the show you put on from minutes ago.

“then you won’t be needing me to touch you, right?” he sneers while his thumb teasingly ghosts over your aching clit. “won’t be needing my tongue to clean up this dirty cunt, yeah?”

a pang of regret washes over you. maybe you took it too far just to spite him or maybe he’s just good at turning the tables around. either way, you know he’s trying to get you to beg for it.

the silence from your side tells him everything he needs to know. bakugou can play this petty game too and he won’t let you win so easily. “are you going to beg for it, brat?”

the relief you’ve been wanting is right in front of you yet bakugou wants to be an ass about it.

“no? you can go back to that fucking sleaze to help you out with it.” he jeers.

“if i wanted to, i would’ve done it already.” you whine, bucking your hips closer to his hand but he slaps your thigh instead.

“really? what do you actually want then?” he squeezes the supple flesh of your thigh and watches you squirm underneath him.

you look anywhere except his menacing gaze, “want you, ‘suki.”

bakugou slaps your thigh again, “look at me and say it.”

you nibble your lower lip and offer him your puppy eyes as you look up at him. “want you ‘suki, please. need you.”

“do you think you deserve it?” he snickers. this time, he’s generous enough to press your neglected clit but that alone easily sends sparks down to your core. “do you think you’ve been a good girl for me?”

“n-no.” you whine as you wriggle your hips needily for a tiny bit of alleviation.

“and do bad girls– no, dirty whores get to cum?”

“‘suki, please– i’m sorry.”

“good,” you look at him in anticipation as he tugs down his pants and briefs but he sits down in front of you instead and strokes his cock with his hand. “go ahead and show me you’re really sorry.”

looking at him dejectedly, you still get up on your knees to take his cock in your mouth. you want to start off with kitten licks on the tip but his hand is quick to grip the back of your head and forces your head down to take all of his cock until it hits your throat.

you choke and try to muffle something out but his hand leads you up and down his shaft as your tongue slobbers all around at every inch.

“fuuuck– what’s that?” he chuckles as he watches you struggle to take his fat cock all the way in that your eyes begin to get glassy. “whores don’t get to talk.”

bakugou’s head falls back as his hand continues to guide you down his length. his lips part to allow his soft groans to escape, eyes heavy as he focuses on your puffy lips wrapped prettily around his cock.

he holds your head still as he bucks his hips upwards and the tip instantly hits your throat again. you try to take control again, working your gag reflex and running your tongue up and down his cock and give special attention on the tip.

“fuck yeah. just like that.” bakugou growls.

glancing up to the male, you can clearly see how much bakugou is enjoying this– his eyes closed shut, chest heaving as breathy moans slip from his mouth. an idea strikes you and you start to think back how you even end up here. why do you bother giving him what he wants? weren’t you trying to make him learn his lesson? the look of pure bliss on his face only serves to be a provocation for you to proceed with your devious plan. what’s the worst that could happen?

so as your saliva slobbers all over his thick cock, wet and erotic that the squelching noises are able to drown his own grunts, his hips jerking as he reaches closer for his high– you bite the tip of his cock.

bakugou’s eyes shoot wide open as he yelps and pushes you away from him. a string of curses rips from his throat as he takes a few moments to regain himself but when he sees the smug look on your face, it only acts as a fuel to the blaze that was already starting to douse inside him– and you’re definitely going to pay for it.

“you fucking brat.”

he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you down on your back again and lifts up your legs up to your chest. he slaps your clit before he sticks his tongue out and starts to lick a fat strip of your wet slits as you writhe in pleasure. your eyes immediately close and your nails dig the leather seat of his car.

“look at me when i’m eating this fucking pussy.” he spreads the slit open with his fingers and teases your clit with the tip of his tongue.

you shamefully turn your head to his direction, his irises ablaze with the usual perseverance to make you cum on his face while his mouth is attached to your cunt and his hands grip your thighs firmly to hold your legs up and spread. lewd squelching sounds echoes in the car and your breathing starts to hitch as you feel the coil inside your guts twists and turns tightly.

your legs start to tremble when he uses his finger to flick the aching bud and his wet muscle delves into your sopping hole. bakugou is nose deep inside your cunt, diligently laps off your essence like a man having his last meal.

“mmh– ‘suki– so good! gonna cum–” you cry as your hand grabs a lock of his hair to grind his face closer to your pussy. his mouth latches onto your clit, groaning a repetition of ‘mmph’s against the sensitive bud at how your tight hole is practically sucking his finger in with each of his thrust.

“yeah? gonna make a mess on my face, baby?” from the firm grip on his hair, bakugou realizes that you’re close. his eyes gaze upon your face– forehead glistening with sweat, chants of mewls and moans escaping from your gaping mouth that a bit of drool is already trickling from the corner and eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy.

“yesyesyes– fuck!” you pant, toes curling in your shoes when the tight coil inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. “‘m gonna cum!”

and as you are about one step closer to your release, bakugou abruptly pulls away.

“you never learn your lesson, don’t you?” even through the dim lights of the parking lot, you can visibly see your juices glisten on his chin and the tip of his nose. “sluts don’t get to cum.”

your eyebrows furrow as you only silently watch him lean back on his seat and wipes his lips with his sleeve.

“i’m giving you a chance to start over,” he taps his thigh twice while the other hand pumps his hard cock, the tip flushing with a bead of precum. “show me you deserve to cum.”

you get up almost instantly before bakugou shifts in the middle to make space for you to prop on your knees in between his thighs. he guides you by the hips with his free hand, explicitly displaying his control over you at the moment before allowing you to impale yourself on his dick.

“how much do you want it?” sets of hazy, passion-filled eyes stare up at you while he teases your swollen clit with the tip of his cock and smearing your juices with his pre.

“i- i want it so bad, ‘suki.” the clench of your hands on his broad shoulder tenses at the sensitivity. you can see sweat already formed on his head and neck from the lack of ventilation in the car.

“hmm… and?” a grin etched on his lips as he spanks the flesh of your ass, hard enough to make your body jolt and a yelp to escape from your mouth.

“a-and i need your cock to make me full.” you whine, rolling your hips a little as if to relieve the annoying itch that you’ve been dying to scratch but couldn’t.

“so needy,” he tsked, guiding his throbbing cock down and halting just under your hole agonizingly. “lucky for you, i like needy little sluts.”

bakugou leads you by the hips to pull you down and hisses when he finally impales inside you. without wasting time, you start to desperately bounce on his fat cock and his hands find their way to grab your ass.

“fucking perfect– hah– so tight.” he leans further on his seat and watches his dick appear and disappear perfectly inside your sopping cunt in trance.

the praise serves as encouragement inside your head and causes you to ride and grind harder, completely heedless over how the car looks from the outside; bumping up and down.

the temperature in the car starts to rise and so are your bodies. vapors are already tinting the windows from the results of your heavy pants and none of you even mind about how suffocating it feels breathing through the dense air.

your body leans towards your boyfriend’s as your lips’ collide to a sloppy kiss before a loud moan tears from your throat when his grip on your ass tightens and rams his cock inside you relentlessly.

“look at you,” bakugou grunts over your shoulder as he continues to pound while your body arches over how good and deep he is inside that you can feel the tip brushing your cervix over and over. “fucked like a whore.”

the degradation makes you feel hotter than it should and you can only whine in agreement. as your orgasm gradually builds up, you quickly sense your pussy clenching tighter around his cock and feel every vein that brushes against your wall.

“mmmhh– so good!” you sob as your mind turns hazy, body trembling again once the same coil begins to twist and turn tightly and begging to break.

“wanna cum on this fat cock, don’t you?” he growls against your skin and smacks your ass before picking up the pace and fucks you harder. “let me hear you.”

“i– cum– please!” you try to form cohesive words in your head but nonsense babbles are the only things leaving your mouth.

bakugou lets out a haughty chuckle. “i can’t fucking–” he slaps your ass again, “hear you.”

through his teasing, even his own pace starts to stutter from how good your cunt is milking his cock but cumming first would mean losing.

“t-too much!” your hand curls into a fist through his hair. “wanna cum wanna cu–! ah!” you whimper in a chant before your eyes roll back and a huge wave of orgasm washes throughout your body and finally sends you into a state of frenzy.

“that’s it, baby.” his sporadic thrusts continue, making you whine from the overstimulation but he can feel that he’s already close from the twitch of his cock. “gonna fill you up.”

you can only hold on to him for dear life as he increases his faltering pace again until he can finally cross the bridge that leads him to his own high.

“f-fuck–!” bakugou bites your shoulder to muffle his moan and the clench on your ass that never left becomes stronger as he releases his hot cum inside you.

bakugou unlatches from your shoulder when you wail from the stinging pain and snickers to himself while he takes time to regain his composure. you push back his wet bangs with your fingers and place a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“so are you gonna tell me why you were mad?” you murmur, pulling away and sitting next to him before he pulls his pants back up. bakugou ponders over the reason with a furrowed brow and walks out from the car to take a heap of fresh air instead.

you’re too tired to get irritated this time, so you slip to the front seat and open the door to take a breather yourself. when he gets back into the car, he turns on the engine and the air conditioner before letting out a deep sigh.

“because...” he mumbles quietly just enough for you to hear and avoids looking at you straight in the eyes. “you retweeted a spoiler from the manga i’m reading.”

“wait, what?” you don’t know if you want to laugh or get mad because you’re sure that it had a spoiler warning and it wouldn’t be entirely your fault.

“shut up, dumbass. it fucking ruined my whole day. i don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)

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bibbawrites · 3 years

Text

Don’t Mention This To Anyone - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader (SMUT)

Request: Hi can u do a luke x reader smut with an enemies to lovers storyline? Maybe they’re at a party and they’re playing truth or dare and luke and the reader get dared to play too hot to handle and later on at the party they get drunk and hook up? // can you do rough sex with luke?!! // Can u do a luke x reader enemies to lovers smut? // Would you make a Luke and Y/N smut and just make it whatever you want but super smutty?

Word Count: 2163 words

Summary: Your best friend Julie invites you and Flynn to come over to hang out with her bandmates, and a game of too hot to handle ends up making you re-evaluate your relationship with Luke Patterson

Warnings: swearing, mention of underage drinking, unprotected sex, choking, praise kink, dirty talk, grinding/groping

A/N: hopefully this makes sense, i’m editing it half asleep lol i’ve also put together a masterlist which you can find here anyways hope you enjoy :)

You should have said no when Julie batted her eyes and asked you if you wanted to come hang out with her bandmates after school one Friday night.

You should have said no when she used alcohol as a bribing tactic to get you to come.

You should have made up an excuse not to go.

Don’t get the wrong impression, you loved Alex and Reggie. The two boys had become close friends of yours since the day Julie first introduced them to you and Flynn.

It was Luke Patterson that you had an issue with. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms and the lead pain in your ass since the minute you met.

If you had said no to coming you wouldn’t have been in this situation.

Staring down at the bottle on the floor after you drunkenly agreed to a game of Too Hot to Handle, watching as the bottle slowly stopped and pointed at the one person you were praying it wouldn’t.

Luke fucking Patterson.

“Oh fuck no.” You exclaimed loudly. Luke shook his head.

“No way. Not doing it.” He said, his tone matching yours.

“You have to, the bottle chose you.” Reggie grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“The bottle doesn’t know what it’s doing.” You spat.

“It’s simple, if you don’t want to do it that bad just give in straight away.” Flynn raised an eyebrow, looking between yourself and Luke.

“I’m not a quitter, Y/L/N can give up.” Luke said. Your eyes narrowed.

“What makes you think I’m a quitter Patterson.” You stared at the boy across from you, venom in your eyes.

“There’s only one way to settle this then.” Julie spoke up after a moment of silence.

“Play the fucking game.” Alex finished, his head resting on Willie’s shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, standing up and making your way over to Luke. You knelt down in front of him, glaring at him.

“I still hate your fucking guts.” You told him. He smirked.

“The feeling’s mutual princess.” His tone was condescending.

You placed your hand on his thigh, leaning in and sucking on his neck. He scoffed.

“Is that all you’ve got Y/L/N?” He teased.

You pulled away, glaring at him again before moving your hand up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch, your eyes never leaving his. He didn’t even bat an eyelid.

You held back a scowl, frustrated that Luke was so good at this game. Standing up you sat down in his lap, grinding your ass into his dick. You grabbed his hand and placed it onto one of your boobs, and your friends whistled at the scene.

Luke fake yawned and this time you couldn’t help but scowl.

“Are you fucking kidding? Nothing? Maybe Carrie is right and you are in love with Reggie.” You said, and Reggie choked on his drink.

“Guess you’re not as seductive as you thought, sweetheart.” Luke teased, ignoring the comment about Reggie. You moved again so that you were straddling his hips, and you could feel that his dick was slightly hard in his pants. Motivated by this you started rocking back and forth, trying to ignore the feelings of pleasure shooting through your body.

“I feel like we shouldn’t be watching this.” Flynn joked, covering Julie’s eyes with one hand and Reggie’s with her other.

“You guys were the ones who wanted this.” You reminded them, stopping and looking Luke in the eyes. You had always known that Luke was an attractive guy, his arrogance often outshining his good looks, but up close he was stunning. You hesitated and he smiled, glancing down at your lips. Your heart started to race and you mentally kicked yourself.

This was Luke Patterson, the same boy who you had hated ever since Julie had first introduced him to you.

The boy who was so self centered he couldn’t handle things not being about him.

The boy who you fought with every single time you saw him.

He lent closer and you froze. Was he going to kiss you?

“I- I give up.” You stuttered, jumping out of his lap and rushing back to your spot.

“I knew you’d chicken out.” Luke sung, a smug look on his face.

You were silent, and Luke’s cocky grin fell, concern flicking through his eyes for a brief moment.

“Hey Julie, it’s getting late, everyone needs to go home.” Ray said, stepping into the studio and you stood up quickly, rushing to grab your bag as the others stood up slowly.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay the night Y/N?” Julie asked as you flung your bag onto your back. You nodded.

“Yeah I’m sure, my mum would kill me.” You said, and she nodded understandingly.

“Can I walk you home?” Luke blurted out, and everyone turned to look at him in shock. He shrugged.

“What? I may hate her guts but I still don’t want her to be murdered on the way home.” He said, and you could have sworn you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

“No it’s fine, my house is just around the corner, Alex or Reggie can walk me.” You replied, glancing at your two friends.

“Yeah I can-” Reggie stopped, noticing the glare that Luke was shooting him. “Actually sorry Y/N, I really have to get home quickly before my parents realise I was gone.”

“Alex?” You tried. The blond boy shook his head.

“Sorry babe, Willie and I are heading in the complete opposite direction.” Alex shot you a sympathetic look. You sighed, turning your attention to Luke.

“Fine, let’s go Patterson.” You said, giving in.

Luke followed behind you as you left the garage and headed out onto the street, walking in silence for a few minutes before you decided to speak up.

“So what’s your motive?” You asked. Luke frowned.

“My what?” He asked.

“Why are you walking me home? You said yourself you hate my guts.”

“Can’t I just be a good friend?” He tried. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re not friends.” You reminded him. He shrugged as you turned heading down your street.

“Okay.” He replied simply. You stopped in front of your house, spinning on your heels to look at him.

“So?” You questioned. He hesitated, his normally confident aura gone. He opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, instead taking a step towards you. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the lust in his eyes.

“Luke.” You muttered quietly, and suddenly your back was pressed against the front wall of your house, his lips on yours.

Your brain short circuited. No one had ever kissed you with that much passion before.

You kissed him back with just as much force, the lust and alcohol clouding your better judgement.

He pulled away to take a breath and you wordlessly grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him towards your front door. You reached into your bag to find your keys, Luke’s lips on your neck sucking hard enough that you were definitely going to have a few marks to cover in the morning. You got the door unlocked and you kicked it open, spinning around to capture Luke’s lips with your own again, kissing him as you dragged him into your house.

“Are your family home?” He questioned breathlessly as he pulled away. You nodded.

“Just mum.” You told him as you lead him up the stairs, him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “But she doesn’t care if I bring people home to fuck as long as we’re safe.”

You reached your bedroom door and opened it, shoving Luke inside before shutting and locking the door behind you.

He roughly shoved you against the door, lips connecting once more in a passionate kiss full of tongues and roaming hands.

You kicked off your shoes and began to strip down, your lips never once leaving his, and he did he same. You briefly pulled apart for him to remove his shirt, but once it was off his lips were back on yours again.

“Fuck.” He groaned, as your naked bodies pressed against each other.

“Speaking of, can you please?” You teased, pushing off the wall and placing your hands on his shoulders, leading him to your bed.

You gave him a light shove so that he fell backwards, and you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, almost moaning at the feeling of his hard dick slipping between your folds.

“God Y/L/N.” Luke groaned as you began to move your hips, grinding into his boner.

“Shut up.” You told him.

He flipped you over, pinning you against your bed, his hand coming up to grab at your neck, choking you slightly.

You moaned loudly, not even caring that your mother might hear. She’d know in the morning by the marks littering your body.

“You like that? You like it when I choke you?” Luke questioned, placing a bit more pressure on your neck but not enough to hurt you or constrict your airways.

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned in response.

“Of course you do, you dirty little whore.” His words made you even wetter, hips bucking up for some kind of contact.

“Patterson please just fuck me.” You groaned. He smirked.

“If you say so.” He sat up, hands running down your sides, before hesitating slightly.

“Do you have...” He paused, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Are you clean?” You questioned. He nodded. “Me too. Just fuck me.”

“But what about-” He started.

“I’m on the pill.” You cut him off. “Please Luke.”

He smirked.

“I think you need to beg a bit more.” He teased.

“Fuck me right now or you’ll be jerking off in the street alone.” You threatened.

“Jesus princess, no need to be so pushy.” He said as he lined up his dick with your hole, pushing in roughly causing you to gasp.

“Fuck.” You exclaimed. He barely gave you time to adjust before he was pounding into you again, causing the both of you to swear loudly.

“Again.” You stuttered out, and he obeyed, slamming into you again.

“That feels so good.” You groaned.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, repeating his actions to see your reaction.

“Yes you cocky bastard.” You spat, and he grinned.

“Fuck you.” He said.

“Please.” You bit back. He grinned, before beginning to thrust hard, creating a rhythm. His hand went back to your throat again, pressing down causing you to moan loudly.

“Fuck if you keep this up I won’t last.” You groaned. He bit his lip as he continued to pound into you.

“Me neither.” He admitted. He sped up his pace, the room filled with the sounds of slapping skin and your breathless moans.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, and you felt the familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

“Me too.” You said. He glanced at you, seemingly hesitant to say something.

“What?” You questioned.

He bit his lip.

“Could you... tell me that I’m doing good?” He questioned, somewhat shyly.

“You have a praise kink?” You asked.

“Maybe...” He replied quietly.

“God Luke this feels so good. You feel so good.” You moaned, smirking at his reaction.

“Okay yes, I have a praise kink.” He admitted, squeezing your throat slightly as a warning not to tease him. You gasped.

“Yes Luke. So good.” You praised, and he moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna cum.” He said between moans.

“Ugh yes, fill me with your hot cum like the good boy you are.” You moaned, and he came undone, hips stuttering as he came inside you. The feeling of his cum coating your insides was enough to set you off too, your walls clenching around him as you came hard.

“I hate you.” You moaned.

“I hate you more.” He replied breathily.

You rode out your highs together and he pulled out, flopping down next to you.

“Mind if I stay the night?” He asked softly. You hesitated.

“No, I don’t mind.” You eventually decided. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you, his hair stuck to his head with sweat, and you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t hate Luke Patterson as much as you thought you did.

You forced yourself to get up and clean off in the bathroom before climbing back into bed still naked with Luke.

He snuggled into your side and you pressed a soft kiss to his head, an oddly intimate gesture to someone you had claimed to hate up until an hour or so ago.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Luke whispered softly, his voice full of sleep.

“Goodnight Luke.” You replied, and with that the two of you drifted off to sleep, until the next morning when a shout woke you from your slumber.

“Oh my god did you two fuck?” Alex’s voice startled you, and you groaned, pulling the covers up over your head.

You were never going to live this one down.

#luke patterson #luke patterson smut #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms smut #reader insert

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barrysmanbun · 3 years

Text

On the Count of Three

A/n: This isn't edited but when is any of my shit ever edited

Description: Rafe and the reader want to go to the beach but Barry wants to spend time with them at home. They compromise by going to the beach.

Prompt: Rafe and Barry + Holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together

Warnings: Rafe x Reader, Barry x Reader, Rafe x Barry, fluff, Barry is a homebody, recreational cliff jumping, sass

Today is possibly the nicest day you guys have had all year, weather-wise at least. It is sunny, not a cloud in the sky but still a comfortable 70 degrees thanks to the wind. Everyone is in a good mood, and having a blast at the beach. People took the day off from work, and even metaphorically from being a pogue or a kook or a touron so they could all share the beaches on such a nice day.

All of this doesn’t explain why you, Rafe and Barry are still at his trailer, cooped up inside.

“Come on, Barry, you’ll love it I promise.” Rafe pleads, coming up behind his partner to hug him as he pops open the beer he had just retrieved from the fridge.

Barry pulls out of Rafe’s arms, shaking his head. “No, I’m not going to the damn beach. Why would I choose to be around a bunch of idiots getting sand in places where sand don’t belong when I could be here: happy and sandless with you two?”

“Y/n, can I get some help here?” He asks, plopping down onto the couch with a huff.

Rafe and Barry both turn to look at you expectantly. “Well…” You think on it… “I know a special part of the beach that I’ve never seen anyone else at. It’s secluded, lots of shade and no one will bother us.” You reach out, taking Barry’s hand in yours and running your thumb over the back of his hand.

He looks between you and Rafe before sighing. “Fine.” He gives in and Rafe’s whiney expression turns triumphant.

Barry drags his feet through getting the bags together, and when You go down your mental checklist, naming things out loud for him to check for, he only responds in half-hearted grunts. He drags his feet getting out of the car and then drags his feet all the way to the secret spot you were talking about, barely saying 5 words the whole time.

The three of you break through the small amount of underbrush you have to trek through to reach the spot and then you’re greeted by a stunning view of the clear blue sky meeting the shinning ocean horizon. The spot itself is a decent sized clearing on a small cliff maybe 30 feet above the water. There’s a small rocky pathway to the left side that’s maybe a one minute trek that can be used as stairs to a small sandy beach area.

You glance over to Barry, smiling to yourself when you see his reaction to the beautiful area.

“What do you think?” You ask, setting down your tote bag as you turn to face him.

His eyes snap to you as he schools his expression, probably hoping you didn’t see how impressed he was. “It’s alright.” He grumbles, tossing his bag down next to yours.

You pull the blanket from your bag, setting it on the ground as Rafe strips off his shirt, and begins the trek down to the beach.

“Where’s he going?” Barry asks, stretching out his neck in an attempt to get a better look without moving.

“There’s a little path that way,” You explain. “It leads to the beach area I was telling you about. You finish setting up the blanket and pull out the sunscreen. Even if Rafe is crazy enough to not wear sunscreen you’re not. “Will you be swimming with us?”

You know he had changed into swimming trunks and brought a change of shorts, or rather Rafe had forced him to, but you didn’t know if he was actually willing to swim with you guys. Barry thinks on it quietly as he watches you rub the sunscreen into your skin. When it’s time for you to do your back he walks over and takes the sunscreen from you without you even having to ask.

His rough hands gently massage the sunscreen into your skin, the both of you quiet until he finally says, “Yeah, I guess I will.”

With a gleeful smile you whip around, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.” You giggle, and then you quickly begin to apply the sunscreen to him before you drag him down the pathway.

The two of you meet Rafe there, who’s already waist-deep in the water. He turns when he sees you coming, smiling as he sees you dragging Barry behind you.

“Decided to join us, Barry?”

“Shut up, country club,” he grumbles just loud enough for Rafe to hear him. He hesitates at the water’s edge, glancing out towards the horizon then back at his partners.

“Don’t worry, you’re as far from made of sugar as someone can get. The water won’t melt you.” Rafe teases, a playful smirk blossoming on his face as Barry immediately gets a disgruntled look on his face.

“Alright, that’s it pretty boy, I’m gonna kick yo’ ass.” And with that Barry storms into the water after Rafe.

Maybe 40 minutes later the three of you pull yourselves back up to the cliffside, all smiles and loose limbs as you collapse on the blanket with tired sighs.

“You have to admit, that was a lot of fun.” You say to Barry as you grab his hand, giving it a squeeze. He rolls his eyes, not agreeing or disagreeing with what you said.

Rafe sits up on his elbows so he can see Barry from where he lays on your opposite side. “And to think none of this would have happened if we had sat on our asses in your trailer like you wanted.”

Barry turns to glare at Rafe, but the tall boy’s attention is already caught on something else. He stares towards the cliff’s edge as his expression slowly turns from teasing to scheming.

“Rafe… whatcha thinking about?” You ask, curious but also nervous. Most of his schemes end very, very badly.

“I want to jump off the cliff.” He states, then keeps to his feet with surprising ease.

You quickly stand after him, catching up only to grab his wrist and pull him back. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, baby…” You murmur, looking out at the water nervously.

“Babe.” He pulls you a couple steps forward, then motions down to the water at the edge of the cliff, “It’s maybe 25 feet, 30 if we’re pushing it. There's no rocks at the bottom, I would have noticed that when we were swimming.” He then takes both your hands in his, pulling you close to him till your chests are brushing and he can wrap his arms around your middle. “Jump with me,” He whispers sweetly, leaning over to brush his lips against yours seductively. Oh boy, are you really contemplating jumping off a cliff with this boy just because he asked nicely? Yes. Yes you are.

“Uh uh. Nope.” Barry pushes himself to his feet, shaking his head as he does. “Not happenin’.”

“Come one, Barry-” Rafe tries the same tactic on him, pulling him in and leaning down to brush a kiss to his lips but Barry simply leans back and shakes his head again.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy, baby boy, ain’t no way I’m lettin’ either of you jump off that damn cliff. Not a way in hell.”

“It’s completely safe.” Rafe tries to reason, “there’s no rocks at the bottom, we all know how to swim, it’s barely even 30 feet. We’ll be fine.” When Barry still doesn’t budge Rafe tries a different tactic. “Why don’t you come with us? It’ll be fun…” Rafe slides his hand from the middle of Barry’s back down to teasingly cup his ass, “Get the blood pumping. He murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. Barry ducks away again, shaking his head, though his movements are slower and more hesitant this time.

Rafe turns his puppy eyes on you, obviously expecting you to back him up.

You bite your lip, looking between your two partners. Rafe is set on this, you can tell by the stubborn look in his eyes, and Barry is already visibly bending to Rafe’s will. You don’t doubt Rafe’s hand still palming Barry’s ass cheek is helping with that.

With a small sigh and a glance over your shoulder and down at the water you say, “Rafe is right, Bear. It's only 30 feet. It will be fun."

Barry stares at you like you grew two heads, then slowly his shoulders slump and he lets out a groan. "Damnit," he mutters, pulling out of Rafe's arms.

"Fine. Fine, I'll fuckin' jump." He huffs, beginning to mutter under his breath, "Fuckin' crazy, ya' both are."

Rafe and you stand next to each other, facing the water, and with one last unintelligible grumble, he joins you. You wonder if Rafe is going to count to 3, or just jump, when suddenly you feel two warm hands grab ahold of your own at the same time. Rafe's hand is slightly larger, smoother, while Barry's is rough and holds onto your hand like you'll die if he doesn't.

"Alright." Rafe finally says, sounding slightly out of breath already. "On 3? One… two… three."

And then he's jumping, and so are you, pulling Barry down with you guys. Only a few seconds later you connect with the water, letting go of their hands on instinct so you can swim back to the top. You break the surface, inhaling the air deeply as you search for your partners. Rafe surfaces, then Barry, and you smile widely as you make eye contact with the both of them. A bout of giddy adrenaline rips a giggle from your throat and then all three of you are laughing as you hold yourself afloat in the water. The three of you swim the short distance to the beach.

"You two are fuckin' crazy," Barry chuckles, shaking his head with a fond look in his eyes. "You're fuckin' crazy people."

"We're your crazy people," Rafe states with a lopsided smirk, shaking the water from his hair.

Barry snorts. "You're somethin' alright."

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

Hello! How are you? May I pls request the prompts scratches and collar for Sakusa Kiyoomi for the yandere writing challenge thingy? I hope this is alright! Thank you <3

Thanks for requesting!! Sakusa is one of my favorites actually, so I am really excited to write for him! uwu Please enjoy!

Scratches - “Try that again sweetheart, I dare you.” (I don’t want to overlap prompts too much, so I am doing just this one!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Living with Kiyoomi had never been easy.

When you two got married, you’d been quite intimidated by him after your husband wouldn’t look at you even once the whole day. You thought to yourself about how much he must have hated you, considering he only agreed because you two had been promised since your childhood. This marriage didn’t seem like something he was interested in, and the moment you were ‘unloaded’ at his home, you felt like the strangest organism in the whole world.

Nonetheless, you tried to be liked. If you at least couldn’t be a nuisance to him, you thought he might accept you as his partner. But all your attempts backfired gloriously. He wouldn’t eat your cooking, clean over your cleaning, ignore you after he came home from training. For the first year or so, he wouldn’t even take you to one of his matches. You were sure other spouses were allowed to go, so why not you?

But you got used to it. You had to, somehow, or else you probably would have never stopped feeling unloved and unwanted. It wasn’t what you expected, hearing about love all this time, but you didn’t have a bad life by his side, at least. His accounts were filled with money, food was delivered fresh to your doorstep every day, and though you didn’t know anyone in the city that you two settled in, you got along well enough with your neighbors, so you didn’t feel too lonely.

And what you least expected, once you accepted that you and Kiyoomi could never be an item, he started to relax too. Had you been too much? Maybe pushing him too far without realizing? Intruding on him? Or perhaps he had just been told to be nicer to you by his parents, but your surprise was great when he joined you to watch TV one evening.

Given, he didn’t speak a word and didn’t seem too interested in the show you were watching. There also were about two seats free between you, but it was a start. And gradually, your relationship improved.

»»———————— ♡

Nervously, you looked at your outfit, wondering if it was too much. Kiyoomi had never asked you to dress up to accompany him before, scowling whenever you decided to try and impress him with your fashion sense or asked to go with him. Even now, you knew that asking you to come and meet sponsors was just a way to look good in other people’s eyes; he even had a suit delivered to him that day. It wasn’t you who was wanted. It was the image of being married to someone. But as his partner, maybe that was the only thing you could do to please your husband.

“Are you ready?” he asked through the door, not daring to step into your room. He never had entered it ever since you moved in, and you wondered if it was because he disliked you so much or because he feared you were ‘dirty’. But you gave yourself an encouraging nod in the mirror, quickly making your way out. “All done!”

You didn’t expect him to stand right in front of the closed door as you opened it, almost running into him but stopping at the last second. “Do I look fine?” you asked, noticing him appraising you over the rim of his white mask. He looked comically like that, suited up yet wearing gloves and mask as if he was going to clean, but even so, you had to give it to his looks that he was handsome. You didn’t doubt your own attractiveness, but the curt, “It’s alright,” he muttered did sting.

»»———————— ♡

Had you known how exhausting these kinds of events were, you would have almost been thankful that he never took you with him before. Giving it all you had sure was taxing when you never did it before, but you wanted oh-so-badly to be accepted by Kiyoomi’s side. You didn’t even notice your own mental exhaustion until you finally had a chance to sit down.

Alone, again.

Maybe you simply weren’t fit for this kind of life. You didn’t know much about volleyball, and there were many weird insider jokes you didn’t understand. Everyone appeared so friendly, some faces still familiar from the wedding, yet you couldn’t help but notice the pity in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing, you were sure. Just how pitiful you were to be so unluckily married to a man who never seemed interested in what you two had.

“What’s the long face for, hm?” you suddenly heard a cheerful voice, something cold being pressed to your cheek and startling you. You looked up in confusion, only to be blinded by a warm and cheerful grin, the light of the room being reflected through a water bottle and accentuating his features even more.

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, reaching up for the drink he held out to you. “I didn’t see you coming, Atsumu-san. I’m sorry, I was in thoughts...”

“No offense, but you don’t seem to have much fun,” he sighed, plopping down next to you. “It’s such a shame Omi-Omi never shows you off, yer so cute, you know? Makes it much easier to endure parties like these!”

Laughing it off, you found yourself mesmerized by how carefree Atsumu seemed. To you, all of this was a big deal, and you had always assumed it was the same for everyone. But apparently, more people shared your sentiment of the time seemingly dragging out. Without noticing, you chuckled, and Atsumu’s eyes flitted over to you before he straightened his back briefly, crossing his legs. Smirk falling over his lips, you almost caught yourself gasping at how gorgeous he looked in the ambient lighting around you two.

“That’s much better. Ya should laugh more!”

Feeling the warmth spread through your face, you quickly cleared your throat, looking away as to not stare. For a moment there, you thought he really looked like an angel, making you feel at peace around him. “I just- You know- You call him Omi-Omi?” you changed the topic quickly, trying to hide the awestruck expression on your face by hiding behind your hand a bit.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t recommend it, he doesn’t really like it, but it’s fun teasing him, ya know? He gets all-” Reaching up, Atsumu pushed his brows together and put on his best impression of Kiyoomi. “‘Don’t call me that, you Idiot. Work on your serve if you have so much time.’ That’s what he says to me! I’m just trying to be friendly...”

Shaking your head slowly, you couldn’t hold back your laugh as you listened to him gush on about your husband treating him ‘unfairly’. Part of you felt sad having to hear it from a third person, never having been able to collect experiences with him yourself. Still, you were also relieved to see he wasn’t just treating you so coldly. “You’re so funny, Atsumu-san,” you chuckled, and he finally stopped talking, relaxing next to you after his tirade.

“There we go,” he mumbled, and you felt his hand fall to your head, giving it some pats. It made your heart grow to receive the affection, slowly but surely making you realize you had been missing fooling around and laughing or even being touched gently for a change. “Don’t let him get to you, ya hear me? Or I’ll come and kick his ass for you!”

“Who’s ass are you kicking?” you both were suddenly interrupted, and knowing the voice, you looked up. Shame hitting you, you stood up, Atsumu’s hand falling from you as you slipped out from under it, facing your husband cautiously. “Kiyoomi, you’re back!” you mumbled, wondering if your mood change was too noticeable. “Yeah, we’re leaving,” he announced, ready to go.

“Don’t just go around touching other people’s spouses, Atsumu,” he warned his colleague sharply, his arm coming around your back. Still, not even the tip of his glove touched you, much less gentle than Atsumu did.

“Mood-killer,” you heard Atsumu complain. “Good night, [Name]!” he called after you, and you graced him with a brief smile thrown over your shoulder, waving after him while you let yourself be led out by your husband.

»»———————— ♡

The ride home was almost as tiring as the evening itself, and the streetlights passing you as you looked out the window weren’t enough to keep you awake. It was a long drive, but the next thing you noticed was a warm body carrying you upstairs from the garage. “Bastard,” you heard a voice, slowly but surely regaining your senses.

“Kiyoomi?” you asked meekly, rubbing your eyes. Blinking a few times, when you looked up, you were met with a disgusted glare staring down at you, instantly making you shrivel into yourself. A flight instinct set in, and only now you noticed he was carrying you through the hallway of your house, not bothering being gentle with the bathroom door once he reached it.

He seemed furious and disgusted, and at least one of these were emotions you had never seen him make before. You almost expected him to drop you into the bathtub as you found yourself hovering over it, but he set you down gently. Nonetheless, the sudden stream of cold water hit you like a slap in the face as he turned on the shower without even a moment of hesitation. It grew warmer quickly, but you found yourself weirded out as your clothes began to stick to you. Kiyoomi, too, barely took off his blazer before kneeling down next to the tub, reaching for the shampoo standing close by.

It was in no way gentle or comfortable as he rubbed it onto your head, the gloves he wore not helping at all. You began to splutter as you had to close your eyes, soap going everywhere on your face. “Where else did he touch?” Kiyoomi asked, almost too calm for the fact it felt like he was trying to press the shampoo into your head rather than wash you. “No- Nowhere!” you complained, ducking out from his touch and wiping away soap from your face. “What are you doing?!”

“I don’t believe you,” was all the answer you received to your question. “Tell me. Now. Don’t make this harder for us.”

“What...” you muttered, flinching as you felt his hands fall to your body, grabbing your clothes. “What’s wrong with you!” you finally yelled, swatting his hands away harder than you wished you did. Finally, you got the time to wash off the soap and open your eyes again, feeling ill-treated and confused by his actions. Though despite the warm water, as you finally managed to look at him again, you felt your body freeze.

You thought you knew how he looked at you all this time. Disappointed, disapproving, and disgusted, but this time it was different. He looked at you as if you just ripped his heart out and claimed he was fine like that, and that hurt almost more than any look before. But in the next moment, it was gone, just like a snap of his fingers, and he grabbed your wrist, tightly and unbudging even if you complained. “Try that again, Sweetheart, I dare you.”

Blinking a few times, you couldn’t decide what was scarier; seeing him for the first time up close, face only inches from yours and without the mask, which usually gave some more distance between you two, or having him threaten you. Kiyoomi never talked more than a few words with you at a time, nor did he show any interest in anything you did. “Slap my hand away again, and I will make sure you can’t use it for a long time, you understand? Don’t you know by now who you belong to?”

His questions were so clear, yet in your head, they made no sense. Who did you belong to? Who was it?

“Y-You?” you eventually muttered. “Do I belong to you?”

A question as stupid as it sounded, and yet, it eased Kiyoomi’s rage, it seemed. “That’s right,” he confirmed. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine ever since we met for the first time, don’t ever forget that. I am the only one that is allowed to touch you and no one else. Especially no sleazy bastards like Atsumu.”

“Kiyoomi...”

“Undress,” he interrupted you. “I have to clean you.”

Hesitating, you gripped your own clothes. Never before had you heard him talk like that, especially not about you. You never even believed he could have those thoughts about you, and after being unloved for so long, they felt like bandaids to your wounds. Mind you, not strong bandaids, no. They didn’t even manage to heal you partially, but who were you to complain. Because, what Kiyoomi said...

“Okay,” you whispered, slowly stripping out of your clothes. “I’m sorry... Omi.”

You were stretching your luck, but you were so close to tears as he placed his hand on top of your head. It wasn’t like Atsumu’s. It wasn’t gentle, and it didn’t fill your core with happiness. No, it pressed you down, making you lower your head and feel so insignificant compared to its greatness. But it was Kiyoomi’s. The person you wanted to be loved and caressed by the most.

“It’s okay,” he sighed, and for once, his voice sounded almost gentle and forgiving after you did something. His hand stayed as his free one helped you get out of your clothes, and laying your own hand on top of his, you felt his warmth for the first time, no glove separating you two.

And to this day, you still remember wondering if what Kiyoomi said meant that he loved you too.

Even if that meant you were living in the worst kind of relationship possible.

[You can find the prompt list here]

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