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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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Catch Me If You Can AU

Remember this? (Mob Bucky x single mom police officer reader) Which lead to a part 2 and a part 3? Here is a lil drabble for that AU. For context if you don’t feel like reading all three parts: Mob Bucky falls in love with the pretty police officer who has been on his ass for ages. Not to mention she has a son, 8 year old Jordan, who sees Bucky as a hero no less. After a little kidnapping, a little flirting and going full on protective mode when her shitty ex tries to come back around, Buck finally gets to call her his. She’s a little hesitant at first but she falls for his baby blues and sweet charm. Here’s what happens a little while after you’ve been together. So much emotional fluff.

“What is it J” Bucky curiously inspected the box that was placed onto his lap with a little bow tied on the top, wrapped up with carefully selected colorful paper. Jordan had spent the entire night shifting through different colors he thought Bucky would like and redoing the taping until it was perfect, hardly getting a wink of sleep, too excited for morning to come.

“Open it!” Jordan grinned, though his heart was beating erratically on the inside, holding his breath when Bucky picked up the box again. The mob boss had taken the month off for Jordan’s 10th birthday, insisting they would do whatever he wanted but your son insisted he just wanted to spend time together. Still, Bucky pulled out all the stops, leaving a mountain of gifts in Jordan's room from him alone. Breakfast was filled with pancakes, every topping imaginable, fresh croissants, pastries and milkshakes along with a very hungry Steve, Sam and Peter. You were all still seated at the table finishing up while Jordan looked at Bucky intently.

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting you presents” Bucky snorted while you watched him carefully unwrap the ribbon before gently taking the wrapping paper apart revealing a plain white cardboard box with an envelope taped onto the front.

“Should I read this or see what’s inside first?” Bucky asked curiously.

“Uh-You can read the letter first” Jordan peeked up, hoping to hide his anxiousness while Bucky took out the paper, unfolding a hand written letter.

Dear Dad,

I talked to mommy about this and this is what I want for my birthday. I thought it would wait till Christmas but I really wanted it now.

No pressure, you can always say no but I hope you’ll say yes.

Love,

Jordan

Bucky’s brows furrowed, looking at the documents inside the box, his entire world stopping as he read the words printed on the paper.

“J?”

Jordan shuffled on his feet nervously, afraid to meet Bucky’s eyes, only looking up when Bucky reached out to gently squeeze his hand.

“Are-are you sure?”

“I’m sure” Jordan whispered, missing the tears that streamed down Bucky’s face, pulling the little one into his chest, kissing the top of his head. “So you’ll sign it? You’ll adopt me?” Jordan looked up hopefully while Bucky let out a wet chuckle.

“Y’know you’re already mine, right? I want this but these are just papers. I love you no matter what” Bucky said firmly, meaning every word. You bit your lip to keep from sobbing seeing your two favorite boys attached at the hip while Bucky signed the document, still keeping a protective arm around Jordan. Jordan silently nodded, letting out a sniffle before squeezing Bucky tightly, feeling safer than ever. You giggled to yourself, seeing Bucky’s usual hard ass men discreetly wiping their eyes with Steve doing the worst job.

“G-get it together” Sam hissed, swallowing tightly, scrunching his nose in an attempt to keep from sniffling again while Steve rolled his eyes, no longer trying to hold back as the first whimper escaped. Then a full on sob. Peter hadn’t bothered trying to put up a front at all, loudly blowing his nose into a tissue.

“Mommy, look!” he took he sheet and held it up proudly for you all to see to see, while Bucky pulled you in, kissing you sweetly.

“Thank you” You whispered just for Bucky to hear, melting into his touch as he silently squeezed your hip.

“Best. Birthday. Ever” Jordan stated, clutching the paper to his chest while Bucky grinned proudly, deciding he’d have a conversation with his son soon about asking his mommy to marry him. “Just one more thing”

“What else do you want baby, daddy already got you everything and more” You ruffled Jordan’s hair, your son thinking for a moment before his eyes lit up.

“A brother” Jordan shrugged innocently while Bucky smirked, giving you a wink when no one was looking.

“Oh, he can make that happen right now” Sam cackled, already seeing the feral look on Bucky’s face while you shook your head, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought.

“Really? Or a sister” Jordan smiled, just wanting a sibling to play with. “I’m okay with either”

“Jordan-”

“Shhh, let’s give our son what he wants” You were about to question his request when Bucky immediately hushed you, giving Steve a pointed look, his best friend nodding understandingly.

“Sooo how about we go on some roller coasters all day so we can give your mommy and daddy some time to get you that” Steve grinned while Sam wiggled his eyebrows a you both, your son already half way out of the dining room, off to get ready.

“That sounds like a great plan” Bucky let his hands slide down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his.

“You’re a menace” You bit back a shy smile while Bucky hugged you tightly from behind, seconds away from throwing you over his shoulder.

“M’your menace baby” He cooed, his heart still full over getting to officially call Jordan his, “C’mon, we can’t keep J waiting”

“You sure about this?” You asked, squeaking when he lifted you in his arms, taking you straight to bed as soon as they heard the front door shut, leaving the house completely empty.

“Very sure. Now come here, my son gets whatever he wants” Bucky practically pounced on you, making you giggle as he peppered you with kisses, throwing you on the bed. “Let’s make a baby, mama”

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altrodent · 10 months ago

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Cycle

Part I: Vessels Vixen

Pairing: (Poly!) Sleep Token x (F!)Reader

Genre/Warnings: This chapter is mainly Vessel x Reader for lore build up!! Fluff, a made up character for plot is womanizing, flirtatious Vessel, decent amount of cursing

Summary: After kicking out a bunch of jerks at your work place, you become the savior of a certain masked man

(A/N): I’ve tried rewriting a story involving Sleep Token at least a dozen times now, and this is my last attempt for the first part and probably the best, so I hope you enjoy! 🥲🩷

It’s very common to find me working for extremely long hours as well as doing all the chores while blasting my ears off with an old pair of headphones. I do work in a record shop anyways, so what else would I be doing? Once I moved out and on my own I’ve had nothing to do, so I help this elderly couple maintain their shop so they can enjoy their- what should be- retirement.

The town we live in is decently small, but still big enough to include fascists and douche bags of every variety. More specifically, a group of men called the ‘Southwind Snakes’ by the men and just plain ‘perverts’ by the women- me included. Almost every day they end up either trying to wreck the shop, wrecking the shop, or trying to fight with other customers- which those fights usually end up leading to the shops wreckage. Today wasn’t any different.

As the climate got colder, the rain got heavier, and when the weather is shitty, so is the amount of patrons. The elderly couple were packing their bags, ready to go home before asking me“Are you sure you don’t want to just close up early, sweetie? The storm’s looking pretty bad.” Shaking my head, I respond “It’s alright, I’ll hold down the fort. Have a good day you guys.” I wave them off as they head out into the curtains of rain, just as they’re about to pull out I hear one of the worst sounds in the world; the ‘Southwind Snakes’ shit mobile. It’s the ugliest pick up truck I’ve ever seen, and of course it’s sitting front and center in the swamping parking lot. Josh and his goons enter the store and make a beeline straight for my counter. I groan, putting my headphones aside “How can I help you?” He puts one of his greasy hands on the counter “You can help me in more than one ways, doll” he smirks cockily, moving his one hand out to the side so one of his accomplices can five him. “If it doesn’t include helping you find something, or jamming a stick up your ass, then I can’t help you.” I blink blankly at him, his face turning into one of offense “Whatever, prude. Do you have the CD’s we ordered?” I roll my eyes, walking to the back wall, and bending over to grab a box from the lower shelf. All I hear is inappropriate giggles from the childish men, I frustratingly clench my teeth before walking back and handing him the box of CD’s. “Here you go. Need anything else?” He takes the box, “I could always use your number, if you’ll give it to me this time” he winks sloppily “Yeah, no. If you don’t need anything else from the store then have a good day.” He huffs loudly, exiting as his goons follow.

As I was returning to my work, I hear him yelling outside, “Jesus Christ, what now…” I run to the window, to see him berating a person who must’ve run into him. I usually don’t want to get involved in that douche’s antics, but when he starts hurting people verbally or physically I’m usually keen to stepping in. I walk outside in the frigid rain, by the time I get outside, Josh has already turned it from a verbal altercation into a physical one. “Get the hell out of here Josh, leave ‘em alone!” He seethes at me before hopping in his fuck truck. “Hate that fucking guy… are you okay?” I turn to the person, and offer them a hand. Through the thick sheets of rain I see the person look up at me, wearing what appears to be some sort of white facial covering. Looking down I see their hand, painted in some sort of black material snail into mine, obviously shaken by the situation. I help them up, “come on inside, I’ll get you warmed up.” They nod as I lead them into the store, the sudden warmth enveloping our now freezing and soaked skin. I wipe the rain off my face, “I’m sorry you got caught by Josh, he’s so damn rude all the time.” The person takes the cloak like garment off their shoulders, revealing a set of well toned shoulders. “You shouldn’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault, I should actually be thanking you.” He turns to me, I advert my eyes as best as I can, but it’s not helping that there’s now a shirtless man in my store, dripping with the aftermath of the storm. I get a decent look at his intricately beautiful yet grotesque mask, and catch myself before I end up staring for too long “I- uh I think we have some extra towels in the back, stay right here, I’ll be back!” He nods, giving me a comfortable smile, I quickly turn on my heel and head to the back.

Is there really towels in the back? Probably not, but I needed to get out of there before my face explodes from all the heat. But, lo and behold, the owners do keep some decently clean towels in the supply closet, so I grab one for each of us. I take one more heavy breath before heading back into the stores floor. Almost immediately as I enter, he asks “Is this you?” My brows hitch before I hand him a towel, “what do you mean?” His splotchy arm points toward a picture of me and the owners a few years back hosting a huge metal concert. It was like our states Coachella, or Sick New World. “Yeah that’s me, in all my… goth glory.” I giggle softly, I had done mine and the couples makeup in a goth style. “They love matching with me, and they always thought my makeup was ‘pretty’” I smile softly, his eyes gently weaving into my distracted appearance “I think you look ethereal” Blinking obliviously at how naturally he complimented me, “I’m sorry, what-?” He turns to me, still entirely topless “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me to l say wasn’t i-“ “No! No-“ i interrupt, flustered “Sorry- no, you’re fine! I’m just honestly not used to compliments…” he tilts his head “‘Not used to compliments’? Do you not get complimented often?” With hands on my hips, my cheeks puff slightly as I exhale “In this town? Not really.” He take a step forward “Well, maybe that’ll change…” his black painted mouth smirks cheekily, one of my brows raise in confusion “Me and my friends just moved into town, if they like you as much as I do, they’ll be all over you.”

I blink rapidly, obviously confused, my face heating with blush still trying to figure out what he means by ‘like me as much as he does’ and ‘all over me’. I stand still, overcome with confusion, he laughs brightly, stepping ever so closer “You’re very cute, I don’t know how people here don’t tell you more…” our faces become extremely close, all my senses disappear, the only thing being processed is the extreme volume of my hearts rapid beating. He leans in slowly- oh my god, it’s really happening. I only met him today, but I mean hey- *Honkk* we both snap out of our trance. He laughs softly “That must be them.” I back away, embarrassed “I’ll see you again, right?” I nod warmly “Good” he quickly kisses my cheek, my hands go numb at the surge of romantic energy coursing through my system. He pulls back smiling, some of the paint on his lips now transferred to my cheek, making him chuckle. He turns to leave, putting his cloak on when I speak, “(Y/N)…” his head turns slightly “I know you didn’t ask, but that’s my name…” I smile awkwardly, what if he didn’t know your name- “Beautiful…” he whispers under his breath “I’m Vessel.” He walks out to the parking lot, leaving me alone. I think I’m in love.

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unsentimentaltranslator · 6 months ago

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I saw yet another post about "not like other girls" girls so here's my unpopular opinion: there's a level of cringing at NLOGs that is just plain old hatred of teenage girls.

Let's look at some common shitty behaviours of teenage boys:

*Sexually harassing girls at their school *Watching porn and bringing negative attitudes about women to their sexual and romantic relationships with girls IRL *Following misogynistic and/or racist white men on social media and bringing negative attitudes about girls, women and POC to all of their interactions with them *Pretty much all school shootings

And none of them, not even school shooters, are hated as much as teenage girls who are responding suboptimally to oppression that they are too young to fully comprehend. A white boy murders his classmates and people speculate about what he must have been going through. A girl (and let's be real, these tend to specifically be girls who have been treated as if they are inferior to other girls) says "I'm not like other girls" and she gets called a stupid bitch. It's fucked up.

I don't endorse what these girls are doing, but there is a serious need for some perspective here.

#feminism

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sucker4sixx · 6 months ago

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Barracuda

From 2023!

Plot: johnny and reader meet eachothers after a pretty shitty breakup...

Warnings: dirty smut, degrading, praising, public sex, sad topics, online bullying, alcohol, talk of death, anger, cursing

It had been a long, lonely six months since you and johnny broke up. You got invited out to a club by bam who you still kept in contact with after separating from the rest of the jackass boys, he insisted you came since he missed drinking with you and he would "help you find a new 'fuck bunny'" as he put it. It was no secret you where nervous to see johnny again, but that was to be expected. Johnny was the best lover you ever had and you hadnt seen him since week you broke up to give his old shirts back.

You wore a short dark purple dress with fish net tights and black heels, you wanted to blend in with bam as much as possible. *RING RING* you jumped causing you to tug on your earring that you where halfway through putting in your ear, the pain stinging as you flipped your phone open and balanced it between your head and shoulder "hey bam bam" "hey fuck face ill be out front in ten" "perf, thanks" you took five glasses of strong moon juice before leaving to get you more in the mood

The rasp of an engine screamed from outside your small house and you knew it was bam without looking. Quickly you pushed your feet into your black heels and shoved on a plain leather jacket, carefully trotting out to his purple lambo that reflected off the sun that set making the sky a peaceful orange colour "hey bammy" "stop with the stupid ass nicknames, turd" "only when you do" he went silent before giggling alittle "just get your fuckin seat belt on" "yes sir"

Arriving, bam took your hand leading you in, as planned your outfits matched with colour "hey y/n! I didnt know you where coming!" Chris spoke, smoking at the entrance "heya chris, its been awhile" "for sure, see ya inside buddy" bam nods a hello to him and you both walk in, the bar was decently busy. You where led to where ryan sat, beer in hand "hey ry" "hello m'lady" he smiled warmly up at you, you had seen ryan on the occasion since he was always hanging out with bam.

The cheap couch you three sat on was starting to hurt your arse so you decided to have a walk around to see if you could find anymore of the men who you hadnt saw in too long.

You reached the bar and made the mistake of resting your bare arms on the sticky counter, regretting taking off your jacket and leaving it with bam. "Hi, two cans of ciders please" you say to the bartender, sliding him five dollars. He continued to serve the people who had ordered before you giving you time to look around. Your eyes scanned the crowd of badly dressed 20yr olds untill they focused on a tall man who stood staring at you while a woman tried to dance with him "shit..." you muttered, turning back round. Johnny was the last person you wanted to see right now and oh god did he look hot, a tight white tee-shirt that showed off every inch of his toned chest and blue pants that you wish you where on your knees zipping the fly down on, but his ego and your dignity were the only thing stopping you "hi doll face" you heard from behind you only minutes later, deep raspy southern accent... wonder who that is "hey johnny" turning round and seeing the smug look on his face would make you rage so you decided just to keep facing the bar, composing yourself was the smartest decision you could make right now "who ya here with?" Go away. "Just bam" "you two are getting real close" the bar tender handed you your change and your two ciders, finally releasing you from him "whats it to you?" You asked rhetorically, walking back to bam and ryan.

"Hey bam, ryan" a voice spoke infront of you, johnny. Atleast it saves you accidentally pulling a neck muscle looking around for him "hey ass face, sit down!" Bam was doing this purely to annoy you, moving towards ryan so that johnny was forced to sit next to you. He didnt bother talking to you, laughing and talking with bam and ryan while you sat awkwardly, drinking the last of your cider. God you couldnt help but look at his chests, soon he will be needing a bra more than you will. Its kinda hot though "sweetheart, stop staring your getting drool allover yourself" your head snapped up and he sat smiling at you that god damn smile that made you wanna slap it off him "i was daydreaming, and dont call me that" "youve never been good at excuses" you just shrugged and went back to your cider to hint that you really werent interested in talking to him "so whats been going on with you?" Johnny asked, the smile away but surprisingly not due to your back hand "nothing much, its only been six months. You?" You already knew his life was so much more interesting "well... nothin" oh? "What?

Youve not been doing anything? I mean cmon your johnny knoxville your never not doing anything" he just shrugged and furrowed his brows in a guilty way "its hard when ive not got my partner in crime around" the last thing you needed was sappyness from him, you werent over him at all and spent every night crying into that one teeshirt you left behind "jeff i ment, hes been on holiday" "what a fucking gentleman" he laughed that laugh he usually done and nudged you slightly "cmon, cheer up im only jokin!"

Why is he so calm and so happy? Is he not hurt? Did you not mean a single thing to him? Its only been six fucking months and hes as happy as youve ever saw him yet your so down. He caught on to this pretty fast.

"Johnny, how do you do that?" You knew it might start shit but why shouldnt you know "do what?" Sigh "your so cheerful so fast" "reword that doll i dont understand" you turned your head away in embarrassment "just askin if you want a drink?" You gaslighted him to make him think he miss heard you, he raised his brow knowing full well that you where lying "yeah sure, lets go" you had expected him to decline like he always did (because he hated the thought of you slaving around for him) and escape to the dance floor. You sat on a bar stool, him sitting on the one next to it "two ciders and two beers" you say sliding the bartender a ten "love life?" Johnny asks suddenly, catching you off gaurd "huh? What? No!" A laugh escaped both your lips "no love life" you added for good measure "you?" He just shrugs "hardly" johnny clears his throat and looks around alwardly "so how have you really been" "yeah really good!" LIE "the quite life is definitely for me" LIE "Oh really? I thought that was just an excuse to get away from me"

You sat at home after coming home early from some stupid skit that would definitely leave johnny dead if it was preformed wrong, you stormed from the set and drove home. He doesnt consider your feelings and what your life would be like if he died from some stupid stunt.

You went home and opened your computer when a news tab popped up "johnny knoxville seen in public

HOLDING HIS GIRLFRIENDS HAND" what?reluctantly you opened it. It was just a picture of you two walking holding hands literally nothing out of the ordinary. You jumped to the comments to see if they would agree that thats literally nothing. Nope.

"Stupid skank!" "Shes too ugly for him!" "Im his perfect girl" "hes too hot, someone break them up"

News report after news report the comments where the same and looking at them was self destruction. Johnny had argued with you multiple times for seeing them or for leaving his work early because you where scared if he died. Recently he had been pent up due to work and had accidentally been taking it out on you.

"Im leaving i cant do this" you whispered to yourself, walking up to your shared room. You got the huge suitcase that u had bough for your holiday in spain only a few months before hand. Once that was full you packed your bags up with everything that couldnt fit.

One by one you brought the bags to the door, ready to lift them into your car

*CLICK*

The front door opened and johnny stood staring at you with an expression either of fear, worry or confusion"oh your home early" he just nodded, staring at your bags

"yeah i decided not to do it, you going on holiday?" You stopped for a moment to decide if you really wanted to do this but it had been on your mind for awhile, if you didnt do it now you would be happy "no pj, im leaving" suddenly he turned his back and locked the door "no your fucking not" "pj please..." he held his back against the door, a horrified look on his face and tears welling in his eyes "baby i cant let you go" "but its for the best" you wiped the tears that ran down your cheeks "your not thinking straight, you need to stop" he pointed an accusing finger at you"i am, please move stop making this more difficult" you walked towards the door and tried to pull him away from it "why are you wanting to leave me, i love you" his voice had gone dark and croaky and he didnt bother wiping the tears that ran down his cheeks away "this is too much for me, you hurt yourself without thinking of the after effects. I wouldnt be able to live if you got seriously hurt. Youve been seriously nagging me for ages i feel like your my parent! The things people say online about me are getting worse, i need a quite life away from..." you trailed off "me?"johnny asked, you just nodded, he grabbed you into a hug "no no no dont leave me i can tell them to stop, ill be better for you" "let me go" you pleaded, the tears streaming onto his shirt now. As if a switch went off he let go and stormed into the living room "fuck!" You could hear him shout, you took your chance and unlocked the door, pushing all your bags to your car "what the fuck!" You could still hear him screaming, trying to make sense of it all. Once your car was full you looked back to the front door that still lay open, no sight of johnny waiting to wave you goodbye. You left to go back to your own small apartment, seeing him appear at his door watching your car leave.

A week later you built up your courage to give johnny back a few shirts he had left at yours or just gave to you.

You arrived at his front door and knocked it loud so that he couldnt use 'i didnt hear you' as an excuse.

*CLICK*

johnny answered the door, he hadnt shaved or been to sleep in ages it looked like, his hair all scruffy and house dark and stinky "what?" His voice croaked "just giving you back your stuff" he took the shirts from your hands and put them on the table in the house giving you a chance to glance around and the un cared for home

"that all?" "Yeah i uh-" "bye" he grumbles over you, slamming the door in your face.

The bar tender slides you both your cans and the change, johnny cracks open a can and brings it to his lips "how are you doing?" You ask him "surviving" he gave a loose smile "definitely better than i was, that wasnt my proudest moment" he giggled drinking a little bit more of his drink "im sorry for leaving" the topic had gone sad and dense and you could feel the alcohol making a sour turn in your mood "do you regret it?" You took a quick swig of your cider and tapped your fingers off the can anxiously "you know... yeah i guess, but the comments about me where too much i dont think i could put myself through that again" he shakes his head "forget about all that shit, what about me? Do you regret leaving me?" He desperately searched your eyes, the same look that he showed when he saw u with the suitcases. Tears in both your eyes now, the silence dragged out too long.

His mouth opened to say something but you quickly stopped him by crashing your lips off his, he brought his left hand up to cradle your face, running circles on your cheek with his thumb as he usually did. Very quickly his tongue slid into your mouth, the bitter taste of whiskey and vodka from his and the strong moon juice and cider from yours dancing between your mouths. He pulled away, his eyes dark with lust that you have never seen before "i need you darlin, like real bad" suddenly his voice was deep and southern, the exact way that turned you on "ill call a cab" once again he shook his head "no i cant wait that long". With a tight grip of your hand johnny was dragging you from the bar to the single mens bathroom, bathroom sex sounded fun but you groaned knowing that mens bathrooms were already filthy enough.

As soon as the door slammed shut johnny was cornering you to the door kissing your neck greedily making you moan and hold the back of his head, encouraging him to continue. "Take your clothes off honey" he spoke with a rasp, moving himself away to remove his own clothes. Once you had finished you made your way to him, kissing his neck back while he took off his boxers revealing his dick that was already leaking and red "bend over the sink for me like a good girl" you obliged, resting your arms on the sink that was decaying at the corners, infront of you stood a mirror that had a crack near the top and was stained slightly.

Through it you could see johnny walking up behind you, eyes filled with dangerous amounts of lust as he crouched under you. An evil giggle sounded from under you, johnny gripped the back of your thighs tight while he slowly dragged the tip of his tongue through your folds making you gasp and buckle your knees. "Oh fuck" you whispered through your hand that covered your mouth. Slowly he started licking your clit to tease you, with every painfully slow lick your eyes would clench and moans fell out your mouth "johnny please... go faster" you forced out "pardon doll?" He knew fine well but used it as an excuse just to stop and made you huff "go faster" you desperately pleaded "faster?" "Please..." before you could finish speaking johnny shoved two fingers inside your dripping head and flicked his tongue over your clit repetitively making you quite literally scream in pleasure, gripping onto the sink for dear life.

"Johnny.. slow down" you gasped, struggling to even stand as he continued to plow his fingers into you and make out with your clit "dont act like you dont want this doll" he spoke from under you, he wasnt wrong.

You wouldve been angry as shit if he stopped. Loud moans continued to bark out your mouth, your forehead started to hurt from resting it against the mirror.

Only a minute later he had you weaker, melting against the sink while your legs helplessly shook. Curses spilled out your mouth "fuck... fuck johnny im going to cum"

"cmon darlin, cum around my fingers" with that ur moans where out of controll, he had suck a way with words. "Fuck im-" your moan was cut off by confusion as he pulled out "johnny what the fuck?" He got up and put his hands on the sink infront of you, looking at you through the mirror with a evil smile "god you look so hot when your mad sweetheart" his hand slithered to your neck where he held it up, not hard but hard enough. With a quick movement he shoved his cock into you, making your eyes roll back and a guttural moan scream from you "you want everyone to hear you? Hear you like the little slut you are?" He mocked, continuing to slam his hips upward. You forgot that the bar wasn't extremely busy and if anyone went near the bathroom door they would hear you without a doubt

"hm? Is that a yes? You like them hearing me stuffing you with my fat cock?" You nodded feverishly earning loud grunt from him "good girl"

You shed tears as you came around him without warning due to your moans becoming silent from the distracting thought "fuck sweetie, you feel amazing... where should i-" "inside pi" he grabbed you into a hug as he continued to fuck you from behind, a clear reaction to the nickname that u hadnt called him in ages "fuck... oh shit" his grip tightened around your torso as you felt his warm cum filling you up.

He stayed like that for a few, hot breath making itself comfortable in the crease of your neck. You still silently cried without him noticing. "Fuck that was great" he finally spoke, pulling out and instantly cleaning you both up with the rough toilet paper that sat ontop of the toilet. "Yeah" you said blandly, pulling your clothes back on "doll? Look at me." Reluctantly you faced him, red puffy eyes giving away that you were crying "ah, shit.. did i hurt you?” You just shook your head, biting your cheeks to keep in the agonising cries that you let out everyday "speak to me" johnny pulled on his boxers and sat on the toilet lid, you standing like a lost child at the door trying so hard not to cry. Instead of just standing there you walked over to him and sat on his lap, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I cant live without you" you felt pathetic, so utterly pathetic. Sitting in the lap of the man thats heart you broke, crying into his shoulder. A small sniffle sounded behind your ear and you felt his big arms wrap around you "you mean it?" "Pi, breaking up was the worse decision of my life. I beat myself up for it everyday" he just grasped you into a tighter hug, properly crying now breaking your heart by the second, you broke such a strong man. "Cmon honey, lets go back to my place yeah?" He sniffed "yeah lets go"

Once you both decided it was okay you left, a couple of people drawing you dirty looks "y/n!" Bam shouted from behind the both of you, you turned round to see him standing with a random guy "thus is ted hes your fuck bunny for tonight" thats when johnny turned round and bam finally realised what was going on

"what the fuck!" He shouted as you and johnny ran to the door, calling a cab giggling like children.

Spooning him was like finally taking a drug that you decided to stop for some reason, his scent invading you but you couldnt care less

"Night doll" he spoke softly in your ear with a sleepy raspy voice "night darling" you replied, earning a huge grin from him that you could feel forming at your neck....

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville fanfic #jackass #jackass fanfic #Spotify

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therealpontius · 2 years ago

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Barracuda

Johnny/pj (dom) x reader (sub)

Plot: johnny and reader meet eachothers after a pretty shitty breakup…

Warnings: dirty smut, degrading, praising, public sex, sad topics, online bullying, alcohol, talk of death, anger, cursing

Word count: 3.5K

It had been a long, lonely six months since you and johnny broke up. You got invited out to a club by bam who you still kept in contact with after separating from the rest of the jackass boys, he insisted you came since he missed drinking with you and he would "help you find a new 'fuck bunny' " as he put it. It was no secret you where nervous to see johnny again, but that was to be expected. Johnny was the best lover you ever had and you hadnt seen him since week you broke up to give his old shirts back.

You didnt want to tell them the previous events, scared of ruining their night or their mood "you didnt get any for me?" Bam asked, a dirty look on his face "no?" You laughed almost as if he was stupid for even asking, which he was. You couldnt help but look around to look for johnny whenever you where away in thought, the effect he has always had on you was strong and you felt like a highschool girl looking for her crush in the hall way. "Hey bam, ryan" a voice spoke infront of you, johnny. Atleast it saves you accidentally pulling a neck muscle looking around for him "hey ass face, sit down!" Bam was doing this purely to annoy you, moving towards ryan so that johnny was forced to sit next to you. He didnt bother talking to you, laughing and talking with bam and ryan while you sat awkwardly, drinking the last of your cider. God you couldnt help but look at his chests, soon he will be needing a bra more than you will. Its kinda hot though "sweetheart, stop staring your getting drool allover yourself" your head snapped up and he sat smiling at you that god damn smile that made you wanna slap it off him "i was daydreaming, and dont call me that" "youve never been good at excuses" you just shrugged and went back to your cider to hint that you really werent interested in talking to him "so whats been going on with you?" Johnny asked, the smile away but surprisingly not due to your back hand "nothing much, its only been six months. You?" You already knew his life was so much more interesting "well... nothin" oh? "What? Youve not been doing anything? I mean cmon your johnny knoxville your never not doing anything" he just shrugged and furrowed his brows in a guilty way "its hard when ive not got my partner in crime around" the last thing you needed was sappyness from him, you werent over him at all and spent every night crying into that one teeshirt you left behind "jeff i ment, hes been on holiday" "what a fucking gentleman" he laughed that laugh he usually done and nudged you slightly "cmon, cheer up im only jokin!"

"Johnny, how do you do that?" You knew it might start shit but why shouldnt you know "do what?" Sigh "your so cheerful so fast" "reword that doll i dont understand" you turned your head away in embarrassment "just askin if you want a drink?" You gaslighted him to make him think he miss heard you, he raised his brow knowing full well that you where lying "yeah sure, lets go" you had expected him to decline like he always did (because he hated the thought of you slaving around for him) and escape to the dance floor. You sat on a bar stool, him sitting on the one next to it " two ciders and two beers" you say sliding the bartender a ten "love life?" Johnny asks suddenly, catching you off gaurd "huh? What? No!" A laugh escaped both your lips "no love life" you added for good measure "you?" He just shrugs "hardly" johnny clears his throat and looks around alwardly "so how have you really been" "yeah really good!" LIE "the quite life is definitely for me" L I E "Oh really? I thought that was just an excuse to get away from me"

You went home and opened your computer when a news tab popped up "johnny knoxville seen in public HOLDING HIS GIRLFRIENDS HAND" what?reluctantly you opened it. It was just a picture of you two walking holding hands literally nothing out of the ordinary. You jumped to the comments to see if they would agree that thats literally nothing. Nope.

"Stupid skank!" "Shes too ugly for him!" "Im his perfect girl" "hes too hot, someone break them up"

The front door opened and johnny stood staring at you with an expression either of fear, worry or confusion"oh your home early" he just nodded, staring at your bags "yeah i decided not to do it, you going on holiday?" You stopped for a moment to decide if you really wanted to do this but it had been on your mind for awhile, if you didnt do it now you would be happy "no pj, im leaving" suddenly he turned his back and locked the door "no your fucking not" "pj please..." he held his back against the door, a horrified look on his face and tears welling in his eyes "baby i cant let you go" "but its for the best" you wiped the tears that ran down your cheeks "your not thinking straight, you need to stop" he pointed an accusing finger at you"i am, please move stop making this more difficult" you walked towards the door and tried to pull him away from it "why are you wanting to leave me, i love you" his voice had gone dark and croaky and he didnt bother wiping the tears that ran down his cheeks away "this is too much for me, you hurt yourself without thinking of the after effects. I wouldnt be able to live if you got seriously hurt. Youve been seriously nagging me for ages i feel like your my parent! The things people say online about me are getting worse, i need a quite life away from..." you trailed off "me?"johnny asked, you just nodded, he grabbed you into a hug "no no no dont leave me i can tell them to stop, ill be better for you" "let me go" you pleaded, the tears streaming onto his shirt now. As if a switch went off he let go and stormed into the living room "fuck!" You could hear him shout, you took your chance and unlocked the door, pushing all your bags to your car "what the fuck!" You could still hear him screaming, trying to make sense of it all. Once your car was full you looked back to the front door that still lay open, no sight of johnny waiting to wave you goodbye. You left to go back to your own small apartment , seeing him appear at his door watching your car leave.

A week later you built up your courage to give johnny back a few shirts he had left at yours or just gave to you. You arrived at his front door and knocked it loud so that he couldnt use 'i didnt hear you' as an excuse. *CLICK* johnny answered the door, he hadnt shaved or been to sleep in ages it looked like, his hair all scruffy and house dark and stinky "what?" His voice croaked "just giving you back your stuff" he took the shirts from your hands and put them on the table in the house giving you a chance to glance around and the un cared for home "that all?" "Yeah i uh-" "bye" he grumbles over you, slamming the door in your face.

An evil giggle sounded from under you, johnny gripped the back of your thighs tight while he slowly dragged the tip of his tongue through your folds making you gasp and buckle your knees. "Oh fuck" you whispered through your hand that covered your mouth. Slowly he started licking your clit to tease you, with every painfully slow lick your eyes would clench and moans fell out your mouth "johnny please... go faster" you forced out "pardon doll?" He knew fine well but used it as an excuse just to stop and made you huff "go faster" you desperately pleaded "faster?" "Please..." before you could finish speaking johnny shoved two fingers inside your dripping head and flicked his tongue over your clit repetitively making you quite literally scream in pleasure, gripping onto the sink for dear life.

“Johnny.. slow down” you gasped, struggling to even stand as he continued to plow his fingers into you and make out with your clit “dont act like you dont want this doll” he spoke from under you, he wasnt wrong. You wouldve been angry as shit if he stopped. Loud moans continued to bark out your mouth, your forehead started to hurt from resting it against the mirror.

Only a minute later he had you weaker, melting against the sink while your legs helplessly shook. Curses spilled out your mouth “fuck… fuck johnny im going to cum” “cmon darlin, cum around my fingers” with that ur moans where out of controll, he had suck a way with words. “Fuck im-“ your moan was cut off by confusion as he pulled out “johnny what the fuck?” He got up and put his hands on the sink infront of you, looking at you through the mirror with a evil smile “god you look so hot when your mad sweetheart” his hand slithered to your neck where he held it up, not hard but hard enough. With a quick movement he shoved his cock into you, making your eyes roll back and a guttural moan scream from you “you want everyone to hear you? Hear you like the little slut you are?” He mocked, continuing to slam his hips upward. You forgot that the bar wasn’t extremely busy and if anyone went near the bathroom door they would hear you without a doubt “hm? Is that a yes? You like them hearing me stuffing you with my fat cock?” You nodded feverishly earning a loud grunt from him “good girl”

Soon his strong thrusts became shakey, your mind somehow managing to catch on to the song in the back round, barracuda by heart the song that played when you and johnny first had sex. His grip in your hair tightened almost scalping you as his moans became louder, you looked at him through the mirror the realisation finally setting in. This is the last time, isnt it? You shed tears as you came around him without warning due to your moans becoming silent from the distracting thought “fuck sweetie, you feel amazing… where should i-“ “inside pj” he grabbed you into a hug as he continued to fuck you from behind, a clear reaction to the nickname that u hadnt called him in ages “fuck… oh shit” his grip tightened around your torso as you felt his warm cum filling you up.

He stayed like that for a few, hot breath making itself comfortable in the crease of your neck. You still silently cried without him noticing. “Fuck that was great” he finally spoke, pulling out and instantly cleaning you both up with the rough toilet paper that sat ontop of the toilet. “Yeah” you said blandly, pulling your clothes back on “doll? Look at me.” Reluctantly you faced him, red puffy eyes giving away that you were crying “ah shit, did i hurt you?” You just shook your head, biting your cheeks to keep in the agonising cries that you let out everyday “speak to me” johnny pulled on his boxers and sat on the toilet lid, you standing like a lost child at the door trying so hard not to cry. Instead of just standing there you walked over to him and sat on his lap, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I cant live without you” you felt pathetic, so utterly pathetic. Sitting in the lap of the man thats heart you broke, crying into his shoulder. A small sniffle sounded behind your ear and you felt his big arms wrap around you “you mean it?” “Pj, breaking up was the worse decision of my life. I beat myself up for it everyday” he just grasped you into a tighter hug, properly crying now breaking your heart by the second, you broke such a strong man. “Cmon honey, lets go back to my place yeah?” He sniffed “yeah lets go”

Once you both decided it was okay you left, a couple of people drawing you dirty looks “y/n!” Bam shouted from behind the both of you, you turned round to see him standing with a random guy “thus is ted hes your fuck bunny for tonight” thats when johnny turned round and bam finally realised what was going on “what the fuck!” He shouted as you and johnny ran to the door, calling a cab giggling like children.

The house was no different than you had left it apart from the pictures of you where not up on the walls anymore. You made your way to his bedroom and he offered you one of his teeshirts to wear to sleep. Spooning him was like finally taking a drug that you decided to stop for some reason, his scent invading you but you couldnt care less

“Night doll” he spoke softly in your ear with a sleepy raspy voice “night darling” you replied, earning a huge grin from him that you could feel forming at your neck….

#jackass #wildboyz #viva la bam #fanfic #mtv jackass #johnny knoxville #dickhouse #spotify #someone help #phillip clapp #wattpad

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anthracenes · 1 year ago

Text

Worth a Thousand Words | Chapter 1

Tags/Trigger Warnings: Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Triggers. Drunk Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Relapse, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Blackmail, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Humiliation, Begging, Anal Sex, Nude Photos, Verbal Humiliation, Online Dating, Serial Rapist, Obsessive Behavior, Obsession, Stalker, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Forced Orgasm, Drugged Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

[read on AO3 here]

Aiden is parked in front of the apartment complex of his online date a few minutes shy of the time they agreed to meet. This is about to be his first ever foray into the gay dating scene, and he’s rightfully a little awkward and nervous about it as he walks toward the building and makes his way up the stairs inside.

He had only dated a few times before this way back in high school, and it was only ever with the opposite sex. He could hardly count those as real experiences anyways when “dating” at that time was less about dating and more about trying to assimilate and look cool to avoid getting bullied. Even then, after eventually uncovering his true sexual orientation, it wouldn’t be until another five years later that he learned to finally accept this part of himself and stop living in denial.

At twenty-five years old now, Aiden was still a kissless virgin when it came to other men.

His own denial aside, he had no time or energy left for relationships anyways up until now. Not when he had been too busy these past few years trying not to flunk out of college due to his crippling alcoholism at the time. A combination of a shitty home life with shitty alcoholic parents had resulted in Aiden himself turning to the same poison that had been responsible for most of his shitty upbringing, even when he was far too young for it. He had thought that finally moving away from his parents to college would have helped him get over it, but the frat party culture everywhere on campus had only exacerbated it until it was too late.

It was only after being faced with the threat of dropping out for his worsening grades during his junior year that he decided he had to go cold turkey and stop once and for all. It was the most painful decision he had ever made in his life, but with the help of some of his sympathetic professors he managed to undo a bit of the damage he’d done to his transcript and scrape by the minimum requirements to graduate with a bachelor’s. Since then, Aiden had moved far out into a quiet little suburb, getting himself far away from all the bars and pubs of the city that proved far too tempting for his inner demons as he worked on recovery. He had been making good progress taking back control of his life bit by bit. It’s been rough, and some days are harder than others still, but the barrier of physical distance has definitely helped keep him sober for over two years now.

After a few flights of stairs, he finally arrives at the room on the third story, #304. Balling his clammy hand into a fist, Aiden firmly gives the door three rapid knocks and waits.

He doesn’t regret moving that far away from the city, but it still meant he had to drive quite a bit to get to the city and have any real sort of social interaction like this. Not knowing how else to get more experience for this kind of thing, he had caved and installed an online dating app for himself on his phone. Casual hookups aren't quite his thing, but it’s not like a guy like him could just come up to a random man on the street and ask him on a date. Not without the likely possibility of getting hate-crimed for it, anyways. And other than dating apps, the only other avenue he knows of for meeting up with potential romantic partners of the same sex is through gay bars—and that’s obviously just out of the question for him.

Before he could try to knock again, the door suddenly opens. Dylan, the man that greets him, is in a plain white t-shirt and blue short-shorts. The tight clothes nicely accentuate his rippling abs, broad firm shoulders, and shapely calves, which surprisingly look even better in person than in his profile photos online. He’s only five years older than Aiden according to his bio, but stands at least a full head taller than him—about three inches away from being as tall as the top of the door frame. Aiden already has a soft spot for tall guys, but combined with the man’s sharp jawline, piercing green eyes, and extremely fit body it's hard not to swoon at least a little bit.

“Aiden?”

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for Aiden to realize his mouth is hanging open this entire time since his date had opened the door. He’s no slouch himself, but he’s already feeling pretty self-conscious standing next to the Adonis before him. When he finally catches himself, he turns beet red as he clasps his mouth shut and quickly nods.

“It’s so nice to meet you! I’m so glad you can make it all the way here,” Dylan gives a lighthearted laugh at him, sending even more butterflies fluttering in Aiden’s stomach.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Dylan,” Aiden replies shyly. “You, uh… look a lot better in person.”

“Oh? Well, you don’t look too bad yourself, sweet cheeks,” Dylan smirks with a playful wink. “Why don’t you come on in and give me a better look?”

Blushing furiously, Aiden nods and follows Dylan inside to his living room. The apartment is small but clean and well-furnished, almost like it was ripped straight out of a page from a Modern Home magazine. Aiden has had a lot of experience rooming with guys in his college years to know not only how rare it is for a man his age to keep a place so neat, but also to have a great appreciation for good, thoughtful interior design.

“Seriously though, thanks for coming all the way here,” Dylan says, ushering him to sit down. “You must be so tired after the long drive. Sit, make yourself comfortable! Want anything to drink? Coke, lemonade, orange soda?”

“Orange soda sounds good actually,” Aiden clears his throat as he replies, feeling his throat dry. “Thank you.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back with some drinks for us then.” With a smile, Dylan leaves him to go to the kitchen.

Only when Aiden sinks down on the soft, plush cushions does he realize how tired and parched he is after the journey. He had driven three and a half hours in his ten year old Toyota to get here, all in the blazing hot summer sun. The beat up AC unit in his car had been on blast the entire way here, to little effect. The soft breeze of the well-cooled apartment is heaven on his burning skin, and he finds himself sprawled out on the couch comfortably.

Dylan returns in just a few minutes, carrying a glass of orange soda in one hand and two tall slim cans in another. He sets down the glass in front of Aiden on the coffee table, and sets the two cans down on his side before reclining on the chair right across from him.

It’s only when the cans leave his hand and sit on the table that he sees that they are cans of beer.

“Ah, I don’t—”

“Oh, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to of course,” Dylan interrupts him before he could finish. “I know you mentioned before that you don’t drink, but I figured I’d get you one just in case you change your mind. I mean, one beer never killed anybody, right?”

A lead ball forms in his gut as Aiden longingly watches the man open one of the cans in front of him and take a few long gulps from it. This is Dylan’s place: the man is free to have alcohol on his own if he wants to. It’s not like he’s forcing Aiden to drink when he doesn’t want to—he still gave him his orange soda after all. He’s been in recovery for over two years now—he should be able to stomach other people drinking around him without having a fit. But God, if he hadn’t felt a craving this strong since his first week of sobriety. The familiar sight of the amber brown liquid, the familiar smell of alcohol… Aiden finds himself sweating from it all despite how cold it is in the apartment. Prying his eyes away to look at literally anything else, he wills himself to grab his soda and downs it all in a few seconds, much faster than he had intended to on account of his own thirst on top of the craving.

“Whoa there,” Dylan’s brows raised as his green eyes widened. “Someone must be thirsty. I didn’t expect you to finish a tall glass like that so quickly.”

“Sorry, guess I was thirstier than I thought,” Aiden mumbles, bright red. His entire face felt hot. They haven’t even done anything yet and already he was embarrassing himself in front of the person who’s going to be his first time.

“No, no it’s alright!” The man chuckles, setting down his open can of beer on the table. “Hey, not a problem at all. Let me get you more, I don’t want you passing out on me before we even get started. I’ll be right back.”

Before Aiden could say anything, Dylan was up on his feet and already making his way back to the kitchen. It’s not that he had a problem with the man leaving to get him more drinks—if anything, the one glass of soda he just downed had revealed to him just how dehydrated he had been in the summer heat. He definitely could benefit from having more fluids.

But while he’s gone, Aiden is left all alone with the two cans of beer staring him dead in the face.

He bites his lip. It’s just a few minutes. In a few minutes, Dylan will be back with more soda. He can do this. Aiden’s survived over two years without the stuff, a few minutes should be nothing. But with each second he’s sitting there with the two cans his head throbs, screaming at him a jumble of mixed messages—to drink, not to drink. He has to bite down harder and harder just to have something, anything, to focus on other than his insane craving in the meantime. Even if he hides them so that they’re no longer in plain sight, he still wouldn’t be able to hide from the tantalizing smell. And if he grabs the can to hide it, it would have to be in his hands at some point. The close proximity even now is hard… in his hands, it would be an instant game over.

God, why does he have to be so weak? It’s just beer. Not even his preferred drink by far. Any normal person wouldn’t have a conniption over something so small—at a guest’s place no less. He can’t help but be reminded of his mother’s shouted words: how much of an embarrassment, a mistake he was, how he should have never been born in the first place. He can’t help but be pulled back to the times when his father practically beat those messages into him. And—

Oh.

The can… is in his hands now.

The opened can that Dylan drank from is in the tight grip of his trembling hands, inches away from his parted lips. Ready to erase those painful memories for him once again. His nostrils are inundated with the sharp, bittersweet, malty fragrance of the brew with every inhale. Every muscle in his body is tight, tense with anticipation of his next move.

In one swift motion, Aiden closes his eyes and downs the remainder of the open can.

Relief like nothing he’s ever felt before instantly floods his system as he feels the burning amber liquid sliding smoothly down his throat and esophagus, all the way down into his stomach. Goosebumps dot the skin of his arms and legs as he feels the tingling warmth diffuse from within his stomach throughout the rest of his body, melting the tension right out of his muscles. He could feel the horrible ache of those memories start to fade away from the pit of his stomach as a new, pleasant warmth fills the void in its place.

Why did he ever choose to refrain from this stuff in the first place?

Aiden reaches for the unopened can next and cracks it open, gulping down the contents within it with the speed of a man dying of thirst in the desert. The warmth spreads even further, until every inch of his skin feels tingly and hot to the touch—from the tips of his toes to the tips of his ears. The painful memories are all but gone now, far in the distance where he can’t see or feel them anymore. Where they should be. He’s no lightweight when it comes to holding his alcohol of course, but with only one and a half drinks in his system now he’s never felt so good so fast. Aiden chalks it up to no longer being used to drinking anymore after a two year dry spell, and welcomes the delightful sensation nonetheless without any further question.

“Good, isn’t it?”

Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Aiden jumps when Dylan seemingly appears from out of nowhere and catches him finishing his second beer. The sudden jolt is enough to bring Aiden crashing back to his senses temporarily, and his stomach seizes painfully as he looks around and realizes what he’s just done.

In one fell swoop, he had just broken his two long years of sobriety.

All of the AA chips he’s acquired in these past years, all of the support he’s received over the years from his professors, therapists, meetings… all of the struggles he had worked to overcome day by day…

All down the drain. Meaningless.

He had just done the unthinkable. The dirty, filthy word on everyone’s tongue, the dreaded thing that everyone has warned him to avoid time and time again, is now echoing in his throbbing head over and over.

Relapse.

“I… I…” Aiden drops the emptied can he had in his hand, as if it burned to hold on to it for any longer. It clatters onto the edge of the table before rolling a short distance and falling onto the floor.

The pleasant warmth that encompassed his whole body earlier now morphs into a blazing fire of guilt and self-hatred that threatens to consume him from the inside. How did this happen? How did he allow himself to fall like this?

He’s going to be sick.

At that moment, Aiden starts to notice the things Dylan had laid out onto the table in front of him. A bottle of whiskey, spiced rum, and vodka sits all in a row, with two small shot glasses flanking them on either side.

The orange soda is nowhere to be seen.

“Go ahead, sexy,” Dylan purrs, opening the bottle of rum first and pours the tantalizing golden brown liquid into the two shot glasses. He takes one of them in one hand and holds the other out in front of him, gesturing it to Aiden. “You can’t hide it from me anymore. I know you want it. You know you want it. You can let yourself live a little for one day, can’t you?”

Aiden audibly swallows, throat going dry. He’s frozen in place as the sweet, spicy fragrance lingers in the air, drawing him in as the shot glass hovers closer and closer to his lips.

He does want it.

He wants it so bad.

But in a moment of clarity he suddenly remembers why he’s even here in the first place, and it finally hits him what Dylan is doing to him. Despite having been told repeatedly through text that Aiden doesn’t drink anymore, the man is actively enticing him to go back on his own words.

Drinking in front of him. Leaving him alone with booze. Tempting him at every turn. Shamelessly enabling and egging him on for more.

He intended for him to relapse before they had sex.

Aiden pushes himself up off of the couch and onto his feet. He doesn’t know how long until this brief state of lucidity will escape him, so he doesn’t want to risk even a second to open his mouth and say anything. He just knows he has to leave immediately. He’s more than a bit buzzed at the moment, probably to the point where it’s no longer safe for him to get behind the wheel, but he’ll be damned if he’s leaving his car behind in front of the place of this potential rapist. He’ll never make it very far on foot anyways, and he doesn’t have the time to wait around for a cab to come pick him up.

“Hm?” Dylan looks up at him nonchalantly. “Just where do you think you’re going, handsome?”

Ignoring his words and unsettling smile, Aiden takes a few unsteady steps towards the entrance. He’s still a good few feet away from the door, however, when his vision starts to blur. It’s the only warning he gets before his knees suddenly give out underneath him and he collapses face-first onto the floor unconscious.

- - - - -

The first thing Aiden comes to feel is the intense, sweltering heat.

Every inch of him feels as though it’s been set ablaze from the inside, worse than even the worst fever he’s ever suffered from in the twenty five years of his life. His right cheek is pressed against hot, sweat-soaked fabric, and he’s not sure if it’s the heat of the damp fibers that’s making him this hot, or if it’s the friction of his own burning skin rubbing against it that’s heating up the fabric beneath him. His bare shins and knees are on fire too, likely from being pressed against the same hot fabric as his cheek. He can only be a bit grateful that at the very least, the scorching fabric he happened to be on was laid atop something soft. No matter how hot and uncomfortable it was against the burning skin of his cheek and knees, at least he didn’t have to worry about further injuries that could come about from a rougher, more unforgiving surface.

The most intense of it, however, seems to emanate from within the lower half of his torso. There’s a blinding, thick wet heat quickly pistoning in and out of his guts. It sears him from the inside as it moves, like a thick hot branding iron being run across his soft delicate inner walls, pressing against every one of his many sensitive nerve endings there with an overwhelming, almost painful sort of pleasure. His tight, sweaty body is repeatedly stuffed to the brim with it, never left feeling empty for more than a second. Every once in a while, the heat will curve at just the right angle while thrusting inside him and presses against a small bundle of nerves that has his entire body lighting up in pleasure, the likes of which he’s never experienced before in his life. In those moments, he finds it hard to hold onto the heat, discomfort, or whatever nonsense he had been thinking about before, and happily loses himself in sensations as every part of his being is flooded with bone-deep, mind-blowing ecstasy.

Amidst the filthy, wet squelching sounds of whatever’s rearranging his innards at the moment is a cacophony of grunts and groans, coupled with a soft drone of incessant moaning further encouraging the depravity to continue.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Dylan says without missing a beat, after Aiden’s eyes start to flutter open. From behind him, the man plasters his body against his naked back until his breath is a mere inch away against the shell of his ear. “Have a nice little nap?”

Before Aiden can even begin to put together where he was or what was going on to formulate a reply, Dylan suddenly pulls away. As he does so, Aiden feels the thick wet heat inside him retract, nearly pulling out altogether before thrusting back in with a quick hard snap of Dylan’s hips slamming against his ass. The older man sighs contentedly as Aiden clenches down hard on him in response.

“Mm. God. There’s nothing I love more than making pretty boy sluts like you squirm and moan and feel so fucking good on my cock.”

He punctuates the last few words with a series of pointed thrusts, each one harder than the last. The final snap of his hips has the older man’s cock ramming inside at the perfect angle against the same sensitive bundle of nerves from before. Aiden’s brain shorts out in pure, unadulterated bliss, stopping whatever train of thought he might have had at that moment dead in its tracks. He shoots out a tiny spurt of precum underneath him with a long, strangled moan.

“Oh?” Taking one of his hands from the tight, bruising grip he had previously maintained on his hips, Dylan reaches underneath to salvage whatever spilled fluids he could from the bed. Scooping them up, he wraps his slick-coated fingers around Aiden’s throbbing cock and tugs. He firmly rubs the slick bulbous head with his thumb as he strokes him off, working in Aiden’s own precum into his sensitive slit, until the older man has his cock leaking even more of it into his hand nonstop.

“Such a mess. Why, you’re already as wet as a girl for me here and we’re only just getting started,” Dylan chuckles darkly. “G sure is a hell of a drug, isn’t it? Or were you always just this much of a slut deep down?”

“Please… ah… s-so good…” Aiden mindlessly whines, not at all registering the sinister words that had just been spoken to him. He’s far too busy rocking his hips, trying to meet each one of Dylan’s thrusts, jerk himself off in his hand, and chase after the pleasure of having his prostate abused over and over again all at once. “Please, God, please, wanna cum…”

“Well, since you’re begging me so nicely…” Dylan drapes himself over Aiden’s back once again, not once stopping the rhythm of his thrusts or the hand jacking him off as he does so. A flick of the tongue across the base of his neck is the only warning he gets before the older man wraps his lips around the area and sucks down hard, forming a large, visible bruise that’ll last days to come. The feeling of Dylan marking his body so aggressively, coupled with the older man’s hand tugging at his dick and his thick cock pressing against his prostate one final time, has Aiden finally tipping over the edge. Ropes of white hot cum splatter across his stomach, the bedsheets, and Dylan’s own fingers, while his knees buckle underneath him and send his body crumbling atop all of the mess he had just made.

Right before he loses consciousness again, the very last thing Aiden hears is Dylan, murmuring how it’s only going to get even better from here, and what a shame he won’t remember any of it when the drugs wear off.

- - - - -

Dylan smiles as he scrolls through the most recent album on his phone.

After the boy had first blacked out on his bed, he had taken the opportunity to grab his own phone from the nightstand and snap a few pictures of his unconscious lover, commemorating their first time together. He had then taken Aiden a total of four more times throughout that entire day. In between waiting for his own refractory periods to end, he would spend his time arranging that beautiful limp body on his bed in various obscene, revealing positions for each photo, covered in nothing but cum. In that way, it was more than easy to tell how many times the boy had been fucked just from looking at the photo he was in.

Aiden would also wake up and fall unconscious a few more times due to the GHB in his system. Sometimes, the aphrodisiac-like properties of the drug turned him into little more than a mindless, horny slut, shamelessly gagging for his cock like he had during their first time. Twice, however, the boy had woken up in the middle of it crying and pleading for mercy, begging for Dylan to stop and let him go.

The latter two, of course, were the most interesting ones of all to him.

Aiden was far from the first who had fallen victim to him in such a way, but there was something about this boy in particular that Dylan was helplessly drawn to, more than any other victim of his in the past. Dylan had gone so far as to use the boy’s own fingerprints to unlock his phone—a new extraneous step he had never bothered with for anyone else before. He rooted through every piece of important identifying information he could gather: Aiden’s full name, date of birth, phone number, home address, emergency contacts, emails, workplace. Everything important Dylan could think of he wrote down onto his own phone for future reference. Hell, at some point he’d even briefly thought of just kidnapping the boy—fantasizing what it might be like to actually keep one of his victims all to himself this time—before ultimately deciding his current place is not at all prepared to accommodate such a big, spur-of-the-moment decision.

Perhaps it was how irresistibly cute the boy had been, when he cries and begs while being made to take his cock. Perhaps it was his mysterious vulnerability to alcohol, a personal quirk which he never once delved into with Dylan in his texts nor in person.

Perhaps still it was the fact that Aiden had impressed him by being the very first of his victims smart enough to ever catch on to what he was doing, even if it was still far too late in the end. After all, if the GHB took even a minute longer to kick in, the boy might have even made it to his front door. And who knows what possible series of events would have followed if that had transpired instead? Of course, Dylan would have still certainly been able to catch him anyway, if he really wanted to. But the uncertainty element of it all, that only Aiden alone had ever introduced to him. The element that never came up with the several other victims of his in the past.

It will cement him in Dylan’s mind for quite a long time, even if the boy himself won’t remember much at all come next morning.

And besides, if he really wanted him to remember someday…

Well, that’s what the photos are for, isn’t it?

#anthracene ao3 fic #non-con #nsft #mlm nsft #somno #fic: worth a thousand words

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fanfic-wonderland · 2 years ago

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NOTHING CHANGES ANYTHING {TEEN WOLF}

Synopsis: Penny Brooke is an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl; with an ordinary family, ordinary friends, and a plain old ordinary life. Nothing unusual seems to happen until her all-time crush and best friend, Scott McCall, gets bitten by a werewolf. From that moment on, Penny and her friends find themselves living through dangerous events happening at Beacon Hills, and all of their lives turn upside down...

**This is a rewriting of my old Teen Wolf fanfic of the same name.**

Word count: 1.9k

Ch.1 | Ch.2

————————————————————

CHAPTER ONE: SEARCHING

“… In other news, two men have found half of the body of a girl, who is yet to be identified, while jogging through the Beacon Hills’ preserve. The Beacon County Department and the State Police are currently on the scene searching for the other half and perhaps for something that could lead them to solve this horrifying mystery…”

“Bryson, can you please just change the channel already?” Karen groaned from the other side of the couch. Her head was propped up on her hand and she looked like she was about to die of boredom soon.

Bryson ignored her.

“Since when are you even interested in watching the news?”

“Since there’s been a killer on the loose around Beacon Hills,” He answered without taking his eyes off the screen. "Honestly, Karen, aren't you the least bothered by this?”

“I'm more bothered by the fact that Jersey Shore is on right now and I'm missing it thanks to you. You have your own TV upstairs, you know.”

“You do, too!"

"Well, I want to use this one.”

"So do I—"

“Mom,” I called to her, loud enough so she could hear me from the kitchen. "they’re fighting, again!”

Seconds later, she appeared and stood behind the couch, drying her hands with a piece of white cloth and looking annoyed. "Are you guys seriously doing this right now? On pasta night? While I'm making Carbonara for all of you to enjoy?”

Karen and Bryson looked at each other for a brief moment. "We were just about to solve the issue, mom.” Bryson told her.

"Yeah," Karen added before glaring at me. "Penny just had to go and open her big dumb mouth.”

I raised my hands up in defense. "Look, I'm just trying to watch TV without you guys arguing over the stupidest thing for once.”

"Fine," she folded her arms across her chest. Through the corner of my eye, I saw mom rolling her eyes and walking back to the kitchen. I could’ve sworn I heard her mumbling something under her breath. "Then, maybe you should go to your room.”

"Yeah, and leave us alone, won’t you?” Bryson backed her up.

I stared at them in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? I was here first!”

Both of them shrugged at the same time.

“And I'm the oldest.”

"Well, there’s two of us so if you sum up our ages we’re actually way older than you.” Bryson said. Karen was nodding in agreement, both of them looking like they’d just won a long-running debate.

Was this a twin thing, when one moment they were arguing over something so insignificant and the next they were just working together to go against their oldest sibling? If it was, then I guess I would never understand, but I was sure of something: it was fucking annoying.

“You know what? Fine,” I threw the cushion I was holding onto aside and stood up. "I'll leave before there’s a second killer on the loose.”

As lame as it sounded, that was what my life consisted of on a daily basis. It was never something interesting or new, but I had learned to live with it. I had to, or I probably would’ve gone insane by now.

When I found a random low budget horror movie while browsing through the internet, I threw myself on the bed and got comfortable. Twenty minutes into the movie, and my eyelids began to droop. Either the movie was too shitty for me to stay awake or it was getting late. Regardless, I tried my best to get through it… with no success.

Just as I was finally giving in to sleep, though, I heard a tapping on my window. Jumping on my spot by the sudden sound, I craned my head to take a better look. My first thought was that maybe I had imagined it; it seemed like the most logical thing.

The room was dark and the sky was too, but somehow I managed to make out the figure of someone staring back at me through the glass and my heart almost leaped out of my chest. I rubbed my eyes just in case I was just dreaming, and then I pinched myself for reassurance but even now when I was wide awake the figure was still there.

My body froze and my mind went completely blank; I did not know what to do. What would a person have to do in a situation like this? Could I try and crawl my way out of the room? Should I have made a run for it instead? Could I scream until someone came to the rescue? (Would they even rescue me?) Or could I just simply stay there and fight back?

All of those thoughts were running wild through my head and yet my body was still not responding.

The person tapped on the glass a few more times and I jumped once again. This time, I managed to stand up from my bed, slowly but surely. My eyes never left the figure in case they tried anything to break in, and even though I tried to stay strong my legs were shaking harder with every clumsy step that I took.

When I stood in the middle of the room, the face of the person became much clearer. It was a guy —someone I knew. Someone I knew very well, in fact.

He saw me staring and waved, his white teeth sticking out in the darkness. I let out a breath that I didn't even realize I was holding and went to pause the movie. When I opened the window, I glared at him. "Scott, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He was still grinning. "Visiting.”

"You know, a normal person would just knock on someone’s door instead of climbing up on their window and almost giving them a heart attack."

“This was easier, though.” He said, as I stepped aside to let him in.

I quirked a brow. "It’s easier to climb a window than to knock on a door?”

"Well, it got me to your room faster and it avoided me having to explain to your mom why I’m here at this hour and on such a short notice.” Scott sat down on the edge of my bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to borrow your baseball bat.”

I stared at him blankly. "You came all the way to borrow my bat?”

"Mine’s not as sturdy." He explained before glancing at my computer screen, where the movie was still paused. " And I see you’re…. watching a crappy looking movie, where apparently the killer is a—" He did a double, furrowing his eyebrows. "—man in a bunny suit?"

"Yeah," I smiled and batted my eyelashes exaggeratedly. "Want to join me?"

He sighed dramatically as I opened the closet door, grabbing the baseball bat he was looking for. It was my special metal bat, used only for emergencies and drastic situations. It also worked for threats. ''It sounds very, very tempting, but we were just passing by. We can’t stay out for too long, anyways.''

I gave him a confused look while handing him the bat. "We?”

"Stiles is outside."

“Of course, I should’ve known,” I rolled my eyes. ''And why did you guys make plans without me?"

He shrugged. "We're just going to take a late night walk through the preserve. No big deal, nothing interesting."

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Please don’t tell me that you guys are stupid enough to go and look for the missing body…”

Scott didn't say anything, but one look at him told me everything that I needed to know.

“Did Stiles come up with this idea?” I asked him.

He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Maybe.”

I groaned. "How many times have I told you not to go through with what Stiles tells you?”

"We’ll only be looking for a few minutes, I promise.” He said quickly.

“There is something out there, Scott,” I argued. "A girl is missing half of her body—”

"But we’ll be fine,” Scott cut me off. "And besides, It’s not like we’re going to be alone, Stiles’ dad is also helping with the search.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and scoffed. "Yeah, and I'm sure that Sheriff Stilinski will really appreciate you and Stiles being there.”

“He will once we successfully locate the body.” He smiled proudly. I must’ve not looked too convinced still because he then grabbed me by the shoulders in a reassuring way. It sent an involuntary bolt of electricity all over my body.

I guess I forgot to mention that this is the cliché story of a girl who had a huge crush on her best friend. A crush that she has had on him since elementary school, but he had ever noticed because he was too much of an idiot.

“Trust me, please?” Scott said, looking at me with those sweet brown eyes that make me melt every single freaking time.

I sighed in defeat. "I... trust you. I don’t trust Stiles, though.”

He chuckled. "You love him.”

"Yeah, but trusting him is hard a lot of times.”

"Okay, but I’m not, right?” He smiled innocently.

I hesitated before saying, "Of course not.”

At the end of the day, however, both of them were equally as dumb in my eyes; I trusted neither of them when it came to making important decisions. Besides, they were boys.

“Good,” Scott said. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

I gave a small shrug. ''Sure, It’s not like I’ll be doing anything else. Poor Penny will be here all alone, watching a movie about a killer bunny man, and then she’ll go to school tomorrow because she actually follows the rules and has a sense of logic.''

"Okay, now you’re just being dramatic.” He rolled his eyes and I laughed.

At that same time, a very familiar voice was heard from outside. ''Scott, hurry up, we're leaving!''

Scott looked out the window. "I'm coming!"

"That's the devil's voice, Scott, I’m telling you, you should not listen to it.”

“Again, dramatic,” He said after he turned back to me. ''I better go.''

I nodded. Whatever happened to them from that point forward would be their own fault. ''See you tomorrow... if you're not dead by then.''

"Yeah, okay," He chuckled, kissing my cheek. ''Bye, Penny.''

''Bye.''

And with one last smile, he stepped out of the room and climbed down, bat still in hand. When I looked out the window, Scott and Stiles were already out of sight. I sighed, reaching for the spot where his lips were still tingling in my skin. Scott would often do those little things —kiss my cheek, hold my hand, wrap an arm around my shoulders— where he had me questioning if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. It would never get anywhere, though, but I still remained hopeful that in a future he would realize that he had feelings for me, too. It wouldn’t kill me being this hopeful, even after all these years, right?

Before heading back to bed, I made sure to close the curtains this time. I was not up for another jump scare, unless it was from the crappy movie that I was watching.

When I finally decided to resume watching it, I found it hard to concentrate due to the constant worrying going around in my head. I just hope they’re okay…

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macaroni-rascal · 1 year ago

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Okay, I have to do the men first while they're still fresh in my mind.

Malinin wtf, that's one of the worst outfits I've ever seen. It's giving ClipArt, it's giving shitty MySpace photo edits done in MS Paint, it's giving WinAmp skin. And it's a freaking Succession program - a simple ribbed black turtleneck sweater would've sufficed, but no. At least he's improved his movement quality.

Kevin with the slay of the weekend so far, such a shame it was to Bolero. I had forgotten it was Bolero and then the dread of the realization set in when the music started. His gloves were stained red by the blood gushing from my eardrums. But when he was standing in the middle of the ice, hip cocked, staring down the judges? Iconic. He needs to close his shirt a little bit and it needs some sort of intricate beading or a pattern or something, it's all a bit plain and boxy again and dark. And the hair again - truly reminiscent of some of Scott's worst post-retirement moments.

Shun, if you're gonna skate to the Four Seasons, then why dress like the cracked earth of the Atacama Desert? It looked better up close and I'm sure it looked great as a drawing, but it had these skeletal lines that made me wonder if it was a Halloween costume. It looked like if someone ripped the ruffles off of one of Yuzuru's old costumes and ran over it with their car in the mud.

Nozomu - this costume is too literal and silly and it belongs on a cruise ship show, not a senior GP. If a novice boy was wearing this, it'd be cute, but this is a grown-ass man. I did like the color and beading on the vest upon closer inspection and default bonus points for not wearing black pants, but the music selections were too heavy and dramatic for such a childish outfit. And I thought we'd left the boot covers behind in the early 90s, wth.

An Eteri boy? In this economy? The ripping-open of the shirt is such a cheap Dani G gimmick as to be a parody of itself at this point. And a red shirt for Roxanne? Groundbreaking. At least he's appropriately attired for what he is to his coach - just another Redshirt.

Deniss would be my main B if it weren't for the problems. I love how the audience was creaming itself as soon as he started moving. I looooved the fuchsia color, but let's be real for a sec - that's a blouse. He's wearing a blouse. But I don't care. He looked like a slutty pirate and I'm here for it. That said, his body was performing, but his face wasn't, and I hate that for him, because he's the only boy here who could bomb and still get a standing O.

Gogo's shirt was having an identity crisis. Was it supposed to be kimono-inspired? Is the music from some obscure sci-fi show and this shirt is somehow based on an alien civilization? Because both short sleeves over long ones and a scarf (that's just a little shorter than the shirt) under a belt is a lot to be going on. Was the costume brief "just fuck my shit up"? The color wasn't bad and it suited his complexion, but the gloves were an unnecessary touch in an overall look that followed no rhyme or reason.

Litvintsev strikes again, this time with an overly literal costume and a community theater interpretation of a toy soldier that he doesn't have the rizz to make camp enough to work. The ruffled collar I found to be personally offensive.

Tatsuya wearing a random, loosely fitting tactical outfit and skating to contemporary classical music, because those two things somehow go together. Whatever.

Naumov's shirt I possibly liked best, but that's mostly because it was slim pickings out there. It was more interesting up close, but the little colorful islands of rhinestones just looked like stains in wide shots. I liked the ombre, it was well-positioned and the shirt was well-constructed and fit him well.

Torgs strikes again, this time in a system failure blue crewneck sweater someone tested black and white eyeliner swatches onto. I'm issuing an arrest warrant for whoever is responsible, he should demand his money back. At least he had a redemption skate.

Nordeback with the laziest Batman costume. I can't even be bothered to comment. His performance def was a dark knight of the soul.

I'm gonna give on sentence on each skater along with you, as a fun game.

Ilia: Why, bro...just why?

Kevin: V necks are apparently the reason for the season, but I'm not sure if they are in.

Shun: You nailed it so hard I have nothing to add besides a crisp thumbs up.

Nozomu: Boot covers should be outlawed unless you are skating to Kinky Boots, then an allowance will be made, but only if BOTH skaters wear bright red knee high boot covers.

Eteri boy: Ugh.

Deniss: Oh, Deniss.

Gogolev: Every time he skates I think: does he hate this?

Litvintsev: Camp is only camp if it's camp and this wasn't camp.

Tatsuya: Boring.

Naumov: Pretty solid.

Torgashev: What a choice.

Nordeback: Rough stuff.

#konner talks skating #fashionista nonny #you made me laugh several times #blessings on you and your house

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notsuchasecret · 2 years ago

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@cattatonically needed a bribe to get her blog post done so here we go! MatsuAi meet cute featuring bffs Ai and Kou you're welcome

"Hey, Kou-san? I think there's something... living... in the back alley."

Aiichirou looked up at the newest part-timer, gripping his broom a little too tightly as he talked to Kou near the doorway of the office. She whirled around to look at him behind the desk but he already had his finger poised on the tip of his nose. "Nose goes," he called.

"I hate you, Ai-kun," she muttered.

"You're the one who instituted that rule," he said serenely. She glared at him, a fierce look that would have lesser - or even just less-desensitized - men cowering before her. He simply blinked, waiting until she huffed and turned on her heel to stalk out the back door. He waited for a count of thirteen before he stood and followed her. It wouldn't do for her to know he cared enough to follow right away, after all. He was here to be entertained, not to protect. Sure. That would work.

When he opened the back door, lazily peering around it, he found her crouching gingerly in front of a pile of boxes stacked against the building across the alley from theirs. She held a wooden spoon in her hand, using the handle to poke gently at...

"Is that a dog?" Aiichirou asked. Kou shrugged, poking at it again. It was a dingy grey, covered in mats and grime. The third time she poked it, it lifted its head and let out a growl.

"Oh, baby," Kou cooed at it. She slipped the spoon back into her apron pocket and reached out to scoop the dog into her arms. It was small, and it grumbled and batted at her, but it was clearly barely functioning.

"I'll go get the car," he said. "Do you want to come with? We could leave Yoshikawa in charge of closing up."

"Which one?" Kou asked.

"The sister, of course. The walking pile of chaos isn't on shift today and you know I wouldn’t leave our baby in his hands."

"Yeah, that would work," Kou said. "You let her know and I'll make sure this little one is warm."

Aiichirou returned to the kitchen to hand over the keys to Karin and leave a few final instructions, then slipped out into the side parking lot to pull the shitty old station wagon he and Kou co-owned around to the mouth of the alley. She had the dog wrapped up in her jacket as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled in, positioning it on her lap.

"Can you look up the nearest open vet's office?" he asked, handing her his phone. She used her own biometrics to open it, something he had long given up on fighting. She guided him through the quiet suburban streets until they reached a plain white building with a sign outside that had half its letters missing. Aiichirou glanced at it, then back at Kou.

"It has four-point-seven stars, three hundred ratings," she said with a shrug.

"Good enough for me," he said and turned the car off. He held the door open for her as they stepped inside. "Um, hello?" he called, looking around the empty lobby. There were benches and chairs against the walls, posters and adoption flyers on bulletin boards, and the whole place was clean and well-lit, but appeared deserted. Then a voice, low and beautiful, called from the back:

"I'll be out in a moment!"

Kou was already looking at Aiichirou, but he was extremely good at not looking at her when he needed to. Instead, he glanced at an informational poster about a pet health insurance plan, careful to also not look at the nasty heartworms poster next to it. He was doing a perfectly passable job of ignoring everything that was not this one inane poster when the door opened and the voice came again.

"Sorry about that delay," he said, his voice even more musical when no longer muffled by the door and the wall between them. Aiichirou made the worst mistake in his life to date then, including the day he agreed to go in together with Kou on their bakery startup, including the day he allowed Rin to dump Momo on him in order to escape to room with Sousuke in high school, including the time with the strawberry vodka and the stripper pole.

He turned to look.

The veterinarian, if that was who he was, was the most goddamn beautiful man Aiichirou had ever seen in his life. He was tall, his shoulders were broad, his skin was pale, and he was built like he had been sculpted from marble by a master artist. His hair was dark and fell in unruly curls around his ears and across his forehead. Aiichirou was pretty sure he could see a glint of metal here and there, rings in his ears and maybe one in his brow as well. His white lab coat hung in clean lines on his frame and his hands were long-fingered and gorgeous around his clipboard. He looked up and gave Kou and Aiichirou a polite smile and fuck Aiichirou was gay.

"Hi there," Kou said when it became obvious Aiichirou was too busy drowning in homosexual daydreams. "We found this little guy in the alley behind our shop. Do you take walk-ins? We want to make sure they’re okay."

"I'd be happy to," the veterinarian said with another warm smile. "Follow me to an exam room and we'll get the little... one... set up."

Aiichirou followed Kou and the veterinarian back through a set of double doors to a room with a raised metal table and even more informational posters all over the walls. Kou set the dog down on the table and it blinked up at her, clearly smitten in the way that all animals were when they saw her. Aiichirou only just resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Let's see what we have here," the veterinarian said, rolling on a pair of blue nitrile gloves, and—

Nope.

Aiichirou was not going down that road just then. He focused on the dog and on how the veterinarian was so careful when approaching it.

"Well, it looks like you both did the right thing bringing them here," he said. "Definitely in need of a grooming, and they look pretty malnourished. Hard to tell a breed beneath all those mats, but I'd say by the size we're probably looking at a main coon here."

"Isn't that a type of cat?" Aiichirou blurted. Kou turned to him with her eyebrows raised in a way that told him she would absolutely be ridiculing him for this for weeks at the very least, but the veterinarian just nodded.

"You probably suspected dog, am I right?' he asked. Aiichirou nodded, biting his lip and hoping his cheeks weren't as horribly red as they felt. "Yeah, it's hard to tell at first glance, but this is kind of my field," the veterinarian laughed. "But here, you can tell in the paws most easily." Aiichirou stepped closer when the veterinarian held his hand out to invite him up to the table, leaning in. Sure enough, the paw that the veterinarian held up was shaped like a cat's, and when he squeezed gently on the pads a set of ragged, vicious-looking claws extended out, then re-sheathed when he released the pressure.

"Can you tell if it's injured?" Aiichirou asked.

"I'll have to do a more thorough examination, but it doesn't look like anything too pressing. I'd say they probably need food and warmth, and a bath and a haircut once that's taken care of. Let me grab something for them from the back and we'll see if we can get them more settled."

The veterinarian stepped back through the door and Kou and Aiichirou looked at each other.

"No," Aiichirou said, but Kou was already talking over him.

"If you don't let me, Onii-san finds out all about you swooning over the pretty vet," she said.

"Rin-senpai doesn't scare me," Aiichirou scoffed.

"No, but he'll tell Sousuke-nii, who will tell Mikoshiba-kun, who will tell Momo-kun, who will tell Nagisa-kun, and then you're fucked," Kou said, smiling sweetly at him. "The gossip train starts with Onii-san, but it doesn't end there."

"You're a monster," Aiichirou accused. "Using your powers for evil."

"Yep. Now. Are you going to get his number?"

"I'd settle for his name, to start," Aiichirou said. "And I'm not going to hit on the vet while he's just doing his job."

"Coward."

"Whatever. Did you catch a name?"

"Matsukawa-sensei."

"Yes?" The door was opening and the veterinarian was stepping through once more, holding a tin can in one hand, a bowl and a water bottle wedged in the other. "We'll start with the food," he said. "We don't want the little one getting sick by going too quickly after the water, after all."

"Sounds good," Aiichirou managed. Matsukawa sent him a smile as he set the can in front of the cat and peeled the top off of it.

The effect was immediate. The cat surged forward, slamming face-first into the slop inside the can. It let out a low keening noise as it ate, breaking up with each slurping bite and swallow. It was frankly a disgusting noise, but Matsukawa smiled at it, reaching out to stroke along its spine.

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured. "You're safe now."

Aiichirou watched in silence as Matsukawa poured some water into the bowl and set it in front of the cat, then began his examination. He talked as he did, mostly to Kou, telling her what he was doing and everything he found along the way. Every now and then he would throw a glance in Aiichirou's direction, but neither of them said anything to each other as he worked. Finally, Matsukawa leaned away.

"I can give you the name of a groomer who can help get this boy pretty as can be again," he said to Kou. "Once he's been groomed, bring him back here and we'll make sure he has all his shots. I didn't find a microchip on him, so there's no way to know if he has a home out there."

"Oh he has a home," Kou said, and Aiichirou groaned.

"You're paying for the supplies," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah," Kou said, waving her hand flippantly. "You'll thank me soon enough." Aiichirou just rolled his eyes at her, unable to help the fond smile creeping across his face.

"I asked you to find me a boyfriend, not a pet," he grumbled, then immediately froze. He was so used to making that joke with her that he hadn't even thought of where they were or what cute people were within earshot. But whether Matsukawa thought anything was off about his words or not, he didn't let it show. He just typed something into his computer and scribbled a number down on a pad of paper. Then he handed it and another small slip over.

"That one's a coupon for some quality food," he explained. "If you ask the employees at that store, they'll be able to point you to the right formulation for malnutrition, and give you some guidance on feeding times and amounts."

"Thank you, Matsukawa-sensei," Kou said, beaming as she took the papers from him.

"You go ahead, Kou-chan," Aiichirou said as the three of them returned to the lobby. He handed her the keys. "I'll take care of this one since you're buying literally everything else for the rest of his life." She waved him off with a roll of her eyes and carried the cat through the door, cooing at him the entire way. He turned to the counter and offered a sheepish smile to Matsukawa.

"What's the story there, if you don't mind my asking?" Matsukawa questioned as he punched some buttons on his register.

"We met in high school," Aiichirou replied. "Her older brother was my senpai on the swim team, and she managed the team from our rival high school. When we graduated, she shoved me into a culinary program while she took a business degree, and then made me teach her what I learned in the evenings. Then she dropped some real estate papers in front of me and informed me we were opening a brick-and-mortar bakery together. We live in the apartment above the shop, and she's the biggest pain in the ass I've ever met, but I couldn't ask for a better friend."

"Friend?" Matsukawa repeated, his voice a little strained.

"Yeah. People always ask about that one." Aiichirou laughed. "I get it. We're both hot as fuck. But we're also both incredibly gay, so alas, we will never be the power couple we were born to be."

"I feel like the world is lucky for that," Matsukawa hummed. "This exam was on the house. New customer promotion."

"That... doesn't seem right," Aiichirou said. Matsukawa leaned his hips against his side of the counter, his eyes catching Aiichirou's and holding him captive.

"New customers get their first examination free, provided they're beautiful and laugh like the coming of distant thunder. Terms and conditions: one use per customer. Cannot be combined with other offers or promotions. New customers must provide their names and a list of times they’re available for a dinner date over the next week."

Aiichirou stared at Matsukawa as his meaning sunk in, feeling the warmth and tightness in his chest blossom into a smile he couldn't quite keep down.

"Nitori Aiichirou," he said, "and I'm free on Thursday and Saturday."

The smile that spread across Matsukawa's face was even more beautiful than the rest of him. "Meet me here Thursday at six?" he asked.

"It's a date."

#hq #Free!#Haikyuu!!#MatsuAi #AiMatsu #JT1M #Wordly Stuff #My Silver Prince #Sleepyface Prick #Shark Queen #cattatonically

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years ago

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V. Off to the Races, Lolita Series

My old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam. And he shows me, he knows me. Every inch of my tar-black soul.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of relationship violence, rape, and murder, pet names, passionate sex,

Words: 4025 (I am SO sorry for this)

Summary: Andy takes y/n on a weekend getaway while Jacob and his friends are out of town.

Two weeks had dragged on since Andy had gotten a taste of y/n’s sweet nectar, and since then nothing. It wasn’t like they really had the chance to be alone, Jacob and the other boys weren’t going out late at night or on the weekends as they usually did. Andy had to settle for his hand every night, reminiscing on their oral escapades.

It didn’t help that Andy had been swamped with cases, court appearances, and tons of paperwork. He had spent every night of those two weeks at the office until his eyes physically couldn’t stare at the cases in front of him anymore. Andy even showed up on the weekend to fit in a little extra work, hoping it would help take care of some of the load but to no avail. He was completely and thoroughly exhausted, and he could tell that y/n was as well.

She had worked directly with him on a few late-night cases, the rest of the time being spent shadowing Neal fucking Loguidice. It was great for her internship to do so, getting new perspectives of different attorneys in the office, but it was not as good for his jealousy.

By Thursday evening the heavy load of cases and paperwork had seemed to disappear, and Andy was grateful for being able to leave the office at a decent hour. With y/n in tow, he ducked into his Audi, waiting for y/n to get comfortable in the passenger seat before roaring the vehicle to life.

“Is it just me, or have these past two weeks been exhausting?” He asked, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at y/n as he drove. Andy knew her answer before she even opened her mouth, a loud groan leaving her lips as she rested her head back against the seat.

“You’re telling me, if I have to hear Neal mention one more time about his new kickboxing class, I’m going to gouge my eyes out. He really fucking sucks.” Her words elicit a chuckle from Andy’s lips, a smile of pride seeping onto his face. It was good to know she didn’t have any interest in Neal.

“We should do something fun this weekend, just the two of us. Maybe you’ll let me finally take you on a date” He suggested, lulling his car to a stop at the next red light. Y/N raised an eyebrow in his direction, cocking her head to the side. “Andy, I already told you, I don’t do relationships.”

Andy rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat to look at her. “Yeah, you said that, but I’m in it for the long game, y/n. You have to admit there’s something between us.”

“Andy…” She sighs, watching the sun setting out the passenger window. Sure, there was definitely something between him. Was he different from all the other guys before that she had hooked up with? Yes, of course. First off, she had never been with a man his age, someone with a career, a house, and a car of his own. He even had a pension and a life insurance policy; she hadn’t hooked up with any men who had those.

The car is silent as they pull into the garage, Andy immediately shutting off the car and sitting back in his seat. Y/N looked down at her lap awkwardly, reaching for the door but Andy stopped her with a tug to her wrist, getting her to look up at him.

“You want to be an attorney, right?” The question has her furrowing her brows, looking at him as if he had said ‘You know the sky is blue, right?’

“Of course, you know that, but what does that have to do with-” Andy cuts her off by holding up his index finger, loosening his grip on her wrist. “Attorneys defend their cases in court to a judge or jury, who then ultimately decide the fate of their clients. Their job is to convince someone that their claim is right.” Andy rests one hand on the steering wheel, a smug smirk crossing his lips.

“Saturday morning we’ll leave for a weekend getaway, planned by yours truly. This will all be part of my case as to why we should be together, no more games, officially together. You as the judge will examine the weekend's evidence and conclude on whether we should be together. If you decide after the weekend that you don’t think so, I’ll leave it alone and we won’t have to discuss it ever again. But I’m hoping for it to change your mind.” Before she can protest, Andy holds his hand up. “And I’ll even get us a room with two beds, no funny business, promise. So...will you hear my case out?”

Y/N had to admit, she had never been chased by a guy so ferociously, but what was the harm in seeing the evidence and getting a free weekend vacation out of it? She stuck her hand out for him to shake, a professional gesture for their arrangement. “Alright, I will gladly hear your case out.”

Andy had arranged it all down to the last detail, including lying to Jacob and the boys about an important conference for work that they both had to attend that weekend. Of course, he didn’t suspect a thing, he went out of town for conferences all the time, and thus his plan was set.

When Saturday morning finally arrived, Andy was feeling great. He had gone for an early morning jog, took a long shower, and even trimmed his hair and beard. Andy dressed in a plain white t-shirt and dark denim jeans, packing his bag with his essentials for the evening before walking out into the kitchen. As usual, the boys were all still asleep, hungover from their late-night game of shot roulette, which left the house extremely quiet.

Andy couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face as he walked into the kitchen and saw y/n waiting at the counter, a familiar plate of breakfast and coffee next to her. “It’s a Saturday, you know that right? Thought breakfast was for workdays.” He stated, moving to sit at his usual spot beside her.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” She responded, taking a swig from her coffee mug. Andy’s eyes wandered along her body; her outfit of the day effortlessly beautiful. She wore a tight white bodysuit tucked into a pair of figure-hugging mint shorts; a pair of matching wedges slipped onto her dainty feet to complete the look.

“You’re right, it is.” Andy’s silverware moved to cut into his meal, chewing thoughtfully as he thought about the day ahead. “You’d think that by making me breakfast you were trying to plead your own case.” He teased, engulfing another bite of his food.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, moving to set her now empty coffee mug in the sink. “I’ve got nothing to plead, you on the other hand, do.” She waits with her back to the counter, playing on her phone until he finishes his meal, setting his plate in the sink behind her.

“Are you ready to go?” He questioned, grabbing his duffel bag off the floor. Y/N followed suit, grabbing her tiny black suitcase and following him out into the garage. Andy grabbed the suitcase from her, setting it with his own bag in the trunk before they both got into the car, backing slowly out of the driveway.

It was a beautiful day out, the sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Y/N asks, crossing her legs.

“Would it matter? You’re not familiar with the state anyhow.” He retorted, pulling up the address on his GPS as they started on their journey.

“True, I just want to know what I’m getting into.” Her eyes locked on the GPS, noticing the destination was an hour away. “Rockport? What’s in Rockport?” She asked, raising a shapely brow in Andy’s direction.

“Well for starters, it’s along the ocean, which guarantees a good view. It also has great shopping, beaches, and restaurants. It’s a nice little getaway.” Andy turns on the radio as the car goes silent, y/n admiring the view as they drive.

The silence in the car was comfortable, both of them enjoying each other’s company, and before they knew it, they had arrived at their home for the weekend. They were staying at the Cove at Rockport, a beautiful inn right along the ocean. It was even more classy than the photos online, and Andy made quick working of getting them checked into their room.

Andy and y/n walked together down the long hallway to their room, room one on the first floor. Unlocking the door with the key provided, Andy pushed it open, allowing y/n to step in and take in their living arrangements.

The main room was huge, donning a cute little breakfast nook adjacent to the kitchen, a living room, two separate bedrooms, and a bathroom. The decor was all beach themed, of course, shades of blues and beiges filling their sights.

“This definitely deserves a point towards your case.” Y/N admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. It was honestly the nicest place she’d ever stayed at, more luxurious than what she had expected. Walking further into the space, y/n pushed open the sliding door, the sound of waves hitting the shore bursting through her ears as she took in the view. It truly was gorgeous, much different from shitty life in Ohio.

“So, I did alright with my first piece of evidence?” He chortled, leaning back against the cool wall. Y/N continues to take in the view outside, a light breeze picking up and blowing her hair off her shoulders.

“I’d say so.” She shuts the sliding doors and walks back to investigate the sleeping spaces, setting her bags in the room with a large picture of a beach umbrella over the bed, the smaller of the two. “Well, what else do you have planned for your case? Because if this is it, I can come to a decision right away.”

Andy moved his own bag into the opposite room before walking into y/n’s and sitting down on the plush comforter. “I wanted to start the trip with a walk downtown, explore some of the shops before we get ready for our dinner reservations at six.”

Ah, he even sprung for reservations, what a smart man. “Sounds good, let’s explore.” Y/N got up from the bed, grabbing her purse before Andy followed her out, walking out of their room towards the lobby.

Downtown was only about a five-minute walk from the inn, an enjoyable stroll filled with laughter from a group of teens on the sidewalk, birds chirping in the trees, and the smell of fresh muffins wafting from the window of a bakery on the street. “Well, where should we look first?” He asked, turning to look at y/n for guidance on where she’d like to go.

They had spent about two full hours downtown, walking in and out of all the little shops, picking up a blueberry donut to share from one of the bakeries, and taking photos of each other along the Rockport streets. Most of the photos Andy took of y/n were very Instagram appropriate photos, staring down the camera and moving from angle to angle. On a few photos though, Andy would say something to make her laugh, snapping away at her genuine reaction.

Before long they were walking back into the room to get ready for their dinner reservations. Andy was pulling out all the stops, dressing up in one of his nicest black suits, a matching black tie situated atop a crisp white button down. He spritzed on some of his favorite Versace Eros cologne, adjusting the laces of his dress shoes before walking out into the living room. Andy had ordered a dozen red roses to be delivered to the suite, arriving shortly after he had finished getting ready, sitting on the couch with the flowers and waiting for y/n to walk out. God, he hoped this wasn’t too cheesy.

After about five minutes of waiting anxiously, the door to y/n’s room opened, noticing her delicate silver peep toe heels first. His eyes roamed up her toned and tanned legs, settling on her baby blue dress, off the shoulder with slightly puffy sleeves, a tie in the front revealing just a bit of cleavage. The ruffles on the hem swayed as she moved, her eyes taking in the sight of him as well with the flowers.

Suddenly Andy stood up, holding out the flowers to her. “You look incredible, Lolita.” There went the pet name again, though it was always so fitting for her. “Shall we go?” Y/N silently thanked him for the flowers, taking a whiff of their sweet aroma before setting them down on the counter near the door. She followed Andy to his car, waving him off when he tried to open her door for her. Her expression stayed on Andy the entire drive, inhaling his intoxicating cologne, licking her lips. Y/N had to admit, he always looked great in a suit.

The restaurant was only a ten-minute drive from the inn, a little classy seafood restaurant along the ocean coast. It was packed with people, a quartet playing Sinatra’s finest hits off in the far-right corner of the room. Some people were dancing, some were sitting along the bar against the left wall, while most were diners enjoying their meals at their table.

Y/N and Andy were led to a table near the back wall facing the ocean view. Andy started off by ordering a bottle of chardonnay for the table, taking in the sight of y/n lit up by the candlelight provided.

“This is beautiful, Andy.” She exclaimed, her eyes scanning the room and all the happy couples around them. Andy smiled before opening his menu, mulling over what to order. “I told you, I’m great at pleading my case. And as you know, I almost always win.” Y/N rolled her eyes, opening her own menu. “Key word, almost.”

After deciding on what to eat, Andy getting the seafood gnocchi and y/n ordering the lobster bisque, Andy poured them each a glass of wine, holding his up towards hers. “Cheers to an unforgettable night.” He exclaimed, clinking their glasses together before they each took a sip of their respective glasses.

As they wait for their food, Andy and y/n sit and talk more about their likes and dislikes, what they want in the future, and the day they had downtown. Their food arrives during the conversation and they continue to talk while they indulge in their meals, all the food just as incredible as the atmosphere.

About thirty minutes later Andy and y/n take in their last bites of food, sitting back and enjoying the liveliness around them. As they waited for their check to arrive, the sound of Sinatra’s hit ‘It Had to Be You’ started drifting from the quartet. Andy smiles, holding out his hand towards y/n as he stares down at her. “Dance with me?” He asks, taking in her surprised expression before she scoots herself out of her seat, grabbing his hand as he led her over to where the other couples were dancing. Andy places his hands on the small of her back, y/n wrapping her own around his neck as they sway to the tune.

“This is definitely not as good as dancing together at the club.” She joked, making Andy laugh. “Well, technically I wouldn’t call that dancing. More like...gyrating, or maybe dry humping? Definitely not the same.” Her smile brightened; his eyes locked on her as they moved. It was as if they were the only people there, like the whole world stopped to see them dance.

“For nobody else gave me a thrill. With all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you...Wonderful you...It had to be you…” The quartet crooned, the song ending and a few of the couples clapping in response. Andy’s eyes bore into y/n’s, licking his lips before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips, holding it for a moment before y/n pulled away, clearing her throat and letting go of his neck.

“M’sure the bill is on the table.” She stated, walking back towards their chairs. Andy let out a huff of disappointment, following her over to the table and paying for their meal before they walked in silence back to their car.

The car ride felt riddled with tension, the tension continuing to build as they got back to the room. “We need to talk, y/n.” He admitted as the door of their suite shut behind them, crossing his arms against his broad chest. Y/N leaned her weight against the wall between their bedrooms, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Andy…” She started, becoming silent again and chewing on her bottom lip. Andy’s stance becomes more tense, taking a step closer to her. “I want you, y/n. And not because of how mind-blowingly attractive you are. You are intelligent, thoughtful, and selfless. You’re not stuck up or fussy about material items. You make me feel like I’m in my twenties again, you make me feel like I’ve never felt with another woman.”

He takes another step closer to her, hovering above her due to his height. She puts her hands on his chest to stop him from moving, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“I’m terrified of this, Andy. How do I know you won’t turn out just like my piece of shit father, huh?” She leans her body weight against the wall, peering up at him.

“Look, I know how you feel, alright?” He moves away from her again, his back turned towards her as his hand ruffles through his hair. “I know firsthand, my father...he’s also in prison. He went to prison when I was young for raping and murdering a 19-year old woman. I vowed to myself to never ever treat a woman without kindness and respect. Though my marriage with Laurie wasn’t perfect, I’m sure she’d say that I was nothing like my father, and nothing like yours for that matter.”

He turns back to look at her, arms outstretched. “I promise I will never hurt you; you can trust me. I’m all in, y/n. And I meant everything I said.”

She processes his story of his father, realizing they had a lot more in common than she once thought. Her heart is beating so fast she thought it might splatter in her chest, closing the distance between the two quickly. Her hand came up to grip his jaw, leaning up and kissing him lovingly. They continue to kiss, y/n parting her lips to allow Andy’s tongue to slip inside, exploring her mouth and causing her to moan. After a moment they both pull away breathless, her hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Okay...I’m all in too, with you.” Her words are all Andy had been wanting to hear, gripping her waist and kissing her lustfully this time, pushing them backwards until they both hit the wall again with a groan. His lips trailed a line of kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, shrugging off his suit jacket and making quick work at the buttons on his shirt, practically ripping the buttons off completely.

Y/N is tilting her head back against the wall, helping to push off his now open shirt to expose his God-like torso. This was her first time seeing his chest, running her cool fingers against his abs as he kissed back up her neck and into her mouth.

He plays with the fabric on sleeves of her dress, pushing them down so that she can fully shimmy out of the pale blue fabric. Her breasts are on full display, no bra to pull down, and Andy growled at the sight of them. They were just as perky as they had been while peeking through her outfits.

He nudged her body in the direction of his bed, hands making quick work of his belt and pulling down his trousers, kicking them into a pile as he walked into the bedroom after her in only his Calvin Klein briefs. Andy moved forward to kiss her again, knocking them both over onto the bed, a breathy laugh escaping her throat.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, my little Lolia.” He purred, his hands coming up between them to knead over her delectable breasts. Y/N cried out from the touch, grinding her hips up into Andy’s to evoke a similar noise from him. “Andy, need you…” She whined, her back arching off the bed, her panties rolling against his clearly clothed hard cock.

He slipped his hands lower, teasing his fingertips along her folds, already slick with her desire. “Need what, Lolita? Need you to tell me exactly what you want.” Her hands rub his cock through the thin fabric, a whine of impatience leaving her lips.

“Need you inside me, Andy. Please, fuck my pussy.” Her words ignite an animalistic groan from his lips, pulling off her and scooting her up further onto the bed until her head touched the pillows. He quickly tugged off his boxers, stepping out of them before shimmying her out of her panties, tossing them aside.

His eyes grew dark as he took in her naked form in front of him, stroking his cock. She really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and she was all his. Andy moved onto the bed, hovering over y/n with his cock dragging against her glistening folds. He was bigger than the guys she’d been with before, and the thought alone excited and terrified her. Her fingers land on the skin of his shoulder blades, pressing in lightly as she locks eyes with him.

“Andy, please.” She begs again. Andy keeps his eyes on hers as he pushes in slowly, giving her time to adjust as he moves inch by inch into her cunt. Her nails dig a bit deeper into his skin, mewling as he continues to press into her until he finally bottoms out, holding himself in place.

“God, my little Lolita, you’re so fucking tight...you’re milking my cock and I haven’t even moved yet. Do you want me to move?” He leant down and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, waiting for her mumbled ‘mhm’ against him before he rolled his hips into hers.

The pace started slowly, building up speed with every little noise y/n’s mouth made, coming undone underneath him with each thrust. They continued to share soft kisses, moaning into each other’s mouths, y/n’s hands locking around his neck.

“Andy.” She breathed, her walls tightening and releasing around him. “Wanna cum for you.”

Andy quickened his pace, kissing along her pulse point on her neck. “Cum for me, Lolita. Want to feel you cum on my cock.” It doesn’t take her long after his sentence before she’s tightening her walls again, crying out as her orgasm rips through her. Her eyesight is full of stars, and it takes a second for her to regain her vision, focusing on Andy’s face once she does.

“M’gonna cum in this pretty cunt, fill you up to the brim.” He states, thrusting a few more times before coating her walls with his release. He stills inside of her for a moment before pulling out slowly and plopping down with his back on the bed next to her.

They both lie in silence, staring up at the ceiling, panting. The sex was incredible, better than they both could’ve imagined. Andy’s arm wraps loosely around y/n’s shoulder, tugging her into his chest and pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

“You’re mine now, it’s official.” He looked down at her with a lazy smile, watching as her fingers began to trail up and down his chest. “Guess you could say I won yet another case.”

“Shut up, Andy.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @my-divine-death @blackwiddows @sokovianheadtilt @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @turtoix @sylvielaufeydottirr @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx @rebelemilu @tenaciousperfectionunknown @agentofbarnes @serendipityrogers

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader smut

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brazenautomaton · 3 years ago

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@isaacsapphire

OP of that post blocked me so I can’t reblog, and finding this out caused me to lose a massive post I made on mobile and can’t recover, but you’re wrong. Feminism is not simply the idea that “some women should have more power” any more than Communism is simply the idea that “it’s bad to enslave people” or Anarchism is the idea that “it’s bad to oppress people” or even White Nationalism is the idea that “it’s bad to hurt people based on their race”. If someone claims that, and says that obviously you can’t have a problem with your ideology without being a Bad Person and thus you must join their ideology, bend over backwards to justify them, and find some strain that aligns with you so you can continue to give power to them as a political entity -- we tell those people to go fuck themselves!

Feminism isn’t just the idea some women should have more power, it’s a whole set of assumptions about what power they have and what power they lack and why this relationship exists and what the nature of power is and who is responsibile and who is agentic and who is a victim. Feminism believes that power is unidimensional, that is is possessed by men and denied to women, by men, in order to hurt women. It says women are not safe and men have to do more to make them safer. It says men are the architects of sexism, that women in other situations who aren’t having the preferences of the feminist observer met are being oppressed regardless of their own preferences, and that the situation of those other women is universally and unidirectionally oppression and denial of power in order to harm them. Feminism believes that men are agents and women are victims, that women have no responsibility to change their behavior beyond “not allowing men to unidirectionally use sexism to harm you.” Feminism believes that men must enlist their agency to make environments more suitable to women, and if a woman is uncomfortable it is due to a failure of men. Feminism believes women are fragile and imperiled by male agency and is obsessed with men’s obligation to make women safer, despite literally and not figuratively every single group of women in any culture at any point in time upon the planet Earth having been safer than the men around them and First World feminists being the safest group of human beings who have ever lived.

All of these things are core and load-bearing beliefs of feminism. You have to accept all of these things before you can accept and interpret the idea of women needing more power and how and why. And these beliefs are wrong. They are not reverse-sexist, they are the plain old ordinary kind of sexist. These are the beliefs that CREATE sexism, and thus feminism constantly reconstructs all of the beliefs and biases of sexism in the name of fighting sexism.

If you don’t believe all these things, you are not a feminist, because you are excommunicated from feminism. You don’t get to participate in those discussions because you’re not a feminist and you are excluded and attacked for not being a feminist.

Sexism is a system of beliefs and perceptual biases ABOUT men and women, held BY men and women, whose end result is to maximize men’s agency at the cost of safety and maximize women’s safety at the cost of agency. It is not a good system. It does not respect individual rights, it is not fair, it is not just, it punishes anyone who deviates from its model, it’s a mess. Trying to accomplish something with a system of perceptual biases is going to end up with that thing being accomplished in a really, really shitty way! But feminism retains all of those beliefs and biases and so does not know anything about the problem they address, and only make it worse by doubling down on every single one of those biases in the erroneous belief that they were the first ones to notice these things that every culture has always believed ever.

#feminism #arguing on the internet

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ladykissingfish · 3 years ago

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Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Six // Hidan

Hidan

“Ah; you fucking lucky bastards! I should charge you all for this; to kiss an elite follower of the mighty Jashin is a privilege you assholes don’t deserve. Except you, Konan. In fact if you want to move the mistletoe to my bedroom then — ow! OW!! Kakuzu let go!! I was only kidding; can none of you take a fucking joke?!”

Konan

She sighs before she goes to him. He’s made a big deal all day about kissing her in particular, although she doesn’t get why. She feels nothing other than friendship for him, and, despite his ramblings, she doesn’t think he feels anything stronger either. Nevertheless, it’s her turn. She steps up to him and he reaches out and takes her small hands, giving them a surprisingly gentle squeeze. “You ready for this, gorgeous?” But something about that, about the word “gorgeous”, sets off the normally calm Konan. She yanks her hands out of his and plants them on her hips. “Gorgeous, beautiful, sexy — that’s literally all you ever say to me. I’m more than a pair of tits; I have a fucking brain in this head!” Hidan blinks, startled. “That’s - the first time I ever heard ya curse, Konan.” He grabs her hands again. He speaks in a soft voice and apologizes, and tells her that he has nothing but respect for her. “I only wanna kiss you so bad ‘cuz you’re beautiful INSIDE and out, and you bring lots of light to my shitty darkness.” She blushes and thanks him, and he takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss her lips. Just a soft touch, but both of them are smiling afterwards.

Deidara

Both of them are hesitant to do this, to say the least. Hidan won’t ever admit this, but he’s held a small physical attraction to Deidara since the day they met. Very small, and *purely* physical, but still. He doesn’t like thinking about it, because to do so would be him admitting to himself that his own sexuality isn’t as black and white as he’d thought it to be. He tells himself that if he likes Deidara at all, it’s simply because the guy looks ridiculously similar to a woman. Deidara doesn’t wish to kiss Hidan because, although HE will never admit to it, Hidan scares him. The man’s proven immortality throws a wrench into Deidara’s long-held ideals of what life (and art) are ultimately about: beauty made greater by virtue of being fleeting. But Hidan being able to live forever — could it be that Deidara’s partner Sasori has been right this whole time? That art really is eternal? Still, everyone is watching, so the two shake off their feelings, and Deidara approaches him. “Keep your tongue in your mouth, okay?” “Same goes for you, blondie.” Hidan gives himself very quick peck to the lips, but both men are blushing quite hard regardless. And even as brief as that was — Hidan makes note to ask Deidara what kind of shampoo he used later, because he smelled absolutely incredible.

Kisame

After the last kiss between them, when it was Kisame’s turn, Hidan is hesitant to get close to this guy again. But Kisame is grinning, and appears to be in a good mood. “Ah, come now, Hidan; surely we can let bygones be bygones?” Hidan starts to curse at him, but catches himself just in time: after all, his mouth was what got him into trouble last time. So he merely nods and stands still, while Kisame approaches him. “Are you afraid, Hidan?” “Ah? Why would I be —“ “I can smell the fear coming from you.” Hidan folds his arms in front of his chest and demands to know who wouldn’t be afraid at the thought of possible dismemberment. Kisame just laughs and promises he’ll behave himself. He leans in, locks eyes with Hidan, and flashes his teeth — before giving Hidan a closed-mouth kiss on the forehead. Hidan let’s out a shaky sigh of relief, and Kisame walks away, laughing.

Itachi

Like Deidara, Hidan has a bit of a grudge against the raven-haired Uchiha. He’s fallen victim before to the power of Itachi’s sharingan, and the calm, quiet way that Itachi reacts to Hidan’s jabs and wheedles always serve to irritate. But even so — Hidan has to admit that the guy isn’t all THAT bad (certainly not the hell-spawn that Deidara makes him out to be, anyway). There was a time once when Hidan caught a cold, and Itachi braved going into his room to bring him a cup of sinus-clearing tea. Itachi steps up to him and nods, and Hidan leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. An oddly sweet gesture, and one that Itachi seems to like, as he actually smiles before he leaves. Hidan watches him go, thinking (and not for the first time) that having a talent like the sharingan is completely wasted in someone who isn’t immortal. Maybe he should talk to him later about joining the Jashinist movement ...

Pein (Nagato)

If the Akatsuki is a family, and everybody (save Konan) are Pein’s children, then Hidan is undoubtedly the problem child of the group. The loudest, the most foul-mouthed, definitely the most violent ... but still. When Hidan could find an ounce of maturity, and focus, he was one of the best members of the team. And Nagato finds his regenerative abilities to be amazing, and, if there was ever the time and opportunity for it, would love to study Hidan in-depth. Pein approaches him and Hidan bows his head, an act of respect he gives to the Leader ... and ONLY the Leader. Pein delivers a light kiss to the forehead and walks away. He can hear Hidan mumbling behind him about “those damn piercings could kill somebody” but chooses to ignore it.

Zetsu

Oh, God. Hidan smells like human blood most of the time (thanks to his many gory sacrifices), and Zetsu is attracted to this scent like a bee is to a flower. He’d hang around this guy all day if he could, if not for the smell then to act as clean-up for the bits and pieces of his victims that he leaves behind. But Hidan doesn’t quite care for the plant man, to say the least. He didn’t sign up for the Akatsuki to be made to work alongside non-human freaks of nature. When Zetsu walks up to Hidan, the gray-haired jashin lover is nervous, to say the least. Zetsu puts his hand on Hidan’s face, leans in, and kisses his nose. It should only take a second, but Zetsu lingers over the spot for an abnormal amount of time ... and Hidan realizes it’s because he’s sniffing him, like an animal. “Okay, freak; get the hell away from me!” But Zetsu doesn’t move, in fact tightening his grip on Hidan’s face. Hidan is surprised; Zetsu is quite a bit stronger than he’d realized. His surprise turns to fear when the expression in Zetsu’s eyes shifts, and Hidan hears a very noticeable stomach-growl come from him. Hidan is seconds away from fight or flight (he hasn’t quite decided yet) when Tobi comes into the room, seemingly breaking the trance Zetsu had been in. Hidan breathes out a sigh of relief as zetsu keaves, giving silent thanks to the moron in the mask.

Tobi

After “scaring” Zetsu away, Tobi gleefully announces that its his turn with Hidan. “Ohh boy, Hidan-san! You and Tobi are gonna have fun!” Hidan is actually quite eager for this; not so much for the kiss itself, but for his chance to see this freak up close and unmasked. Tobi looks behind him; nobody else is around. He turns back to Hidan and slides his mash halfway off his face, revealing his pale skin, dark, long-lashed eyes, and full lips, pursed into a grin. Getting closer, Hidan can detect faded, jagged lines extending from the right side of his forehead to the bottom of his mouth. Still, even with them — “Fucking hot”, Hidan mutters, the words slipping out before he can stop them. Tobi grins and cups Hidan’s face, staring into his eyes. “So are you,” he murmurs, and is it Hidan’s imagination or is his voice ... different, somehow? Well, no time to think about it; suddenly Tobi’s (unbelievably soft) lips are on his own, and for the first time since this encounter started, Hidan feels a feather-touch of unease. The way Tobi’s kissing him ... this isn’t how an idiot kisses. What in the name of Jashin — and then just as quickly as it began, it ends. Tobi slides his mask back into place, and skips off to the kitchen. Hidan has to take a few moments to collect himself, and in the way-back of his mind is a small voice urging him to warn Deidara to watch himself around Tobi. About what? Hidan doesn’t know the specifics. All he knows is those two are alone a LOT for missions, and if Tobi really is more than he seems, then — But then again, why should he care what happens with the blonde jerk, anyway?

Sasori

Another person that annoys Hidan. He was in the Akatsuki for almost an entire year before he’d realized that the ugly body that he was in, wasn’t even his own. His surprise when he witnessed a hatch open and a childlike-looking redhead step out was unprecedented. Learning that he was in his 30’s meant that Hidan should have shown him the proper respect, but Hidan just couldn’t take orders from somebody with the face of a young boy. Sasori seems to know this, and therefore avoids interactions with him as much as possible. Now, however, contact is unavoidable. “Can you even reach my face, shorty?” Sasori tilts his head and seems to really be considering Hidan’s question. Suddenly, without warning, Sasori’s wooden arm detaches itself from Sasori’s body, and hits Hidan full-force in the center of his stomach. Hidan curses and doubles over, and while he’s bent Sasori takes the opportunity to go to Hidan and kiss his forehead. “I can reach you just fine, brat,” he murmurs, before leaving. Hidan has a quick recovery time to all forms of pain, and he’s quickly back on his feet, staring after Sasori with anger — and a tiny bit of admiration.

Kakuzu

“Hey old fucker; you’ve been waiting all day to get a taste of this, eh?” Kakuzu just rolls his eyes at Hidan’s comment. He’s not sure what he did, either in this life or another one, to be partnered with a creature as odious as Hidan. Normally with people that Kakuzu finds no value in, he kills, plain and simple. But Hidan is neither plain nor simple; no matter what Kakuzu hits him with, he keeps getting back up, just as loud and irritating as ever. But ... even someone as gruff as Kakuzu has to admit that Hidan isn’t all that bad. It’s actually a bit lovely, to have found another person (besides Sasori, who has made it clear that when everyone else expires, his complete solitude is something he’s looking forward to) to be with to share the blessing (and curse) of immortality. He walks up to Hidan and grabs him by the forearms, forcing him into stillness. “What the hell, old man?! Let go of me before —“ but Kakuzu interrupts him by inclining his neck and kissing his lips. Hidan’s mouth is soft, and he has a taste to him, something akin to cinnamon or pumpkin. Kakuzu let’s go of him and starts to walk away, when suddenly Hidan reaches out grabs him, pulling him into another kiss. Kakuzu is surprised, but he makes no attempt to break Hidan’s hold on him because ... this is nice. This feels good, this feels natural. Almost like — and then a sudden explosion makes them both jump; Tobi comes running past them, with Deidara (and his bombs) on his heels. “Get back here you little shit!!” Kakuzu sighs, and this time when he turns to go, Hidan doesn’t stop him. But Kakuzu can feels Hidan’s eyes on him, following him all the way to his room.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori #tobi #zetsu #pein #nagato #konan #kisame #itachi uchiha

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bloodyshadow1 · 3 years ago

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Beauyashaweek 2021 day 2 Classical Art: Birthed from Stone

Beauyashaweek 2021 day 2 Classical Painting Art

Technically, the prompt is Classical Painting, but I couldn't really think of anything to write for that so I decided to do Classical Art as the prompt and thought of this. There's more to it, but I decided to cut it short because it was getting too long and not ending. I hope you enjoy my story, if you do please leave a comment, they help more than you know.

It was Saturday, there were a million things Beau would have preferred to be doing on her Saturday, one of the few days off she had, than going to the Zadash Museum of Art. That wasn’t fair, she liked the Museum, she liked the artwork, but she hated that she was here on an assignment for school rather than because she wanted to which meant she hated the Museum currently.

Beau had only taken Art Appreciation 110 on her best friend Jester’s suggestion. The blue tiefling art major thought it would be fun to have her best friend in the class she was TAing and assured Beau that it was an easy class being a 100 level. Beau didn’t mind an easy A, she was a double major history and sports medicine in her senior year, she figured she might as well since the rest of her course load was killer.

Unfortunately, unlike most of the classes Beau had taken though her time at Z.U. Art Appreciation 110 wasn’t a blow off class that she could just take the tests and write papers to pass with an A. The teacher Mr. Artagan was more eccentric than most of the faculty at Z.U. full of new age ideas how to run his class. No tests at all and only a few papers, which would be fine for most people, but the fact that participation was worth 60% of her grade made the class a living hell for Beau. He thought that children (despite them all being college students) should be rewarded for showing initiative, not just memorizing facts, something that Beau relied on. She was a smart girl who read the assigned reading before the class had even started hoping it would mean she didn’t have to show up for class only to have Jester’s hippy mentor ruin that dream the first day.

Artagan, as he liked them to call him, no mister for him, was one of those ‘cool’ teachers who thought they were changing the world in their 100 level course that contained mostly freshmen trying to get their gen ed credits out of the way. The teacher who wore an actual green cloak to class everyday that clashed horribly with his tangle of reddish orange hair, but went well with his inhuman green eye, knew he was put on this earth to reach the kids. Beau hated him instantly and thought if not for his laziness, his biggest weakness other than a wicked case of ADHD that no amount of Adderall would fix, he would probably be a cult leader. Luckily for the class, Jester took her job as his TA seriously, or at least as serious as Jester could leading a class taught by Mr. Artagan about appreciating art, so she was at least a competent teacher when the actual teacher decided to take a nap in the middle of a lecture or jump out the window to chase a bird. She would call on Beau whenever she could because she knew her best friend at least knew the information even though she wouldn’t volunteer the information willingly. It saved Beau’s average from tanking in class, but by the time the semester came to a close it didn’t look good, Beau was sitting at a low C which again, wouldn’t be bad for most people in their blow off class, but was horrible for Beauregard Lionett, the disgraced daughter of the Lionett wine family in Kamordah.

Without getting into it, Beau’s relationship with her family, especially her dad Thoreau, was horrible to be kind. She was only at Z.U. due to both academic and athletic scholarships, and losing one would mean she wouldn’t have enough money for her final semester, and she needed at least a B in all her classes if she wanted to graduate. Technically she would still be able to graduate, but her diploma would remain as property of the school until her debts were paid up, which meant she couldn’t get a job with her diploma unless she lied on her resume. And while, no one could say Beauregard Lionett was against lying, she wasn’t a self destructive teenager anymore she knew it would only hurt her in the long run.

Luckily, having her best friend as her T.A. meant Jester begging Mr. Artagan to let Beau have some extra credit so she could pass. Artagan agreed and told her to write a paper on how a piece of art makes you feel. If Beau didn’t desperately need to pass this stupid class she would have thrown it in his face, but instead as a self destructive adult who at least was aware of her money problems, she gritted her teeth and took the extra credit assignment.

Beau had been to the museum at their school a bunch of times, she had given tours for a bit as a work study gig until the people in charge realized how bad she was with people. But there was something about being forced to go there for an assignment that soured the whole thing for her.

“Let's check out the Emon exhibit first Beau,” Jester said taking her and dragging her to the Tal’Dori section. Beau didn’t mind it, but there was too much…, cleanness in the artwork of their neighbors to the West. Tal’Dori was really similar to Wildemount in a lot of ways, without the whole equally large enemy neighbor country that you’ve been in a Cold War with forever. Emon had its own set of problems, but propaganda or not, whatever Beau read made the other continent sound like a less shitty version of the Dwendalian Empire.

Still, the paintings and sculptures were nice enough to look at even if she didn’t have Jester’s excitement. There were a lot of paintings of naked people in some of the exhibits, which Beau enjoyed since there weren’t a lot of men as the subject. She had to hand it to the old masters, they might have been a bunch of old pervs, but they painted a pretty dame without her clothes. Even if they did give their works pretentious names like, “the Sin of Sarenrae,” or “the Seducer of Nations,” as if the women who were the subjects were at fault for being beautiful enough for men to want to paint them naked.

Eventually Jester got bored, it didn't take long, and they moved on to the other wings of the museum. “I’m gonna check out the Xhorhasian exhibit for a bit Jester,” Beau said, needing some alone time. She loved her best friend, but the girl could talk forever on her worst day, a day surrounded by hundreds of years of artwork around her meant she hadn’t stopped since Beau mentioned her paper.

The Xhorhasian exhibit was small and quiet, they were technically at peace, legally and all that, but two powerful countries can’t be neighbors without a lot of animosity. With only the Ashkeeper Peaks between them, there had been a long cycle of wars and ceasefires between the two nations that could break at any moment. That meant not a lot of people congregated in this out of the way exhibit. Most of the artwork and relics were probably technically stolen. Beau wasn’t happy about that despite being a citizen of the Empire, born and raised in Kamordah, less than a day from Zadash.

Maybe after she graduated she could break into the museum and somehow send the stolen goods back home where they belonged. Jester would probably be into it, and Veth wasn’t exactly opposed to petty theft or grand larceny. But that was for Future Beau with her bachelor’s degree to think about. For now, since they were here, Beau was going to enjoy the things from the Empire’s oldest enemy and learning about them, despite how they were procured.

Technically, the Empire wasn’t enemies with Xhorhas, they were enemies with the Krynn Dynasty, the country that had been the dominant power in the Wastes of Xhorhas for thousands of years. There were other people living in Xhorhas that were roped into the conflict, or so Beau heard, most of the stories from the East were about the Cricks or Krynn and the rest were hardly mentioned at all.

As Beau walked around the empty exhibit, for the most part it was bleaker than the other exhibits. Xhorhas seemed like a dreary place, all their artwork lacked the color of other nations artwork. Most of the paintings, few of them as there were, tended to be battle scenes of Drow soldiers in their dark insect like armor tearing through Empire soldiers like paper, it's a wonder citizens of the Empire never come to look at this exhibit. The rest was mostly pottery or weapons, the placards said they were souvenirs from survivors of perilous expeditions into enemy territory. Beau had read them all before.

But surprising her, there was something new in the exhibit. In the center of the exhibit, in a place of honor was a statue with lights pointing down on it. It was made of white marble and depicted the most beautiful woman Beau had ever seen. She was large, tall and wide, if she wasn’t made of stone she would tower over Beauregard, with arm muscles larger than Beau’s head. Long wild hair that the sculpture had managed to get across in the marble. She wasn’t just standing still either, she was swinging a sword like some goddess of battle. The massive feathery wings exploding from her back, that almost looked soft to the touch despite being made out of rock, made her seem even more divine. But even more than the wings, Beau was drawn to her eyes, they were perfect. Despite being just another part of the woman carved from the white stone, they seemed so dark, holding so much anger and sadness that it made Beau’s chest hurt to look into them, but she didn't have the willpower to look away.

The only flaw Beau could find in the sculpture of the beautiful woman, was the smile. Unlike the rest of the statue, the smile was just off. It was just too plain. The rest of the work from the woman, from the way the marble simulated how her arm muscles tensed like a real person would when swing a sword to fight, to her large soulful eyes, to the massive two-handed sword that looked like it was a real metal blade turned to stone, was the work of a master. Yet the smile was clearly the work of an armature, it looked like the smiles Beau had drawn on posters to look extra goofy to passersby. It didn’t fit such a beautiful woman, especially when the rest of her was clearly ready for battle.

It looked so off Beau immediately looked at the placard to find out if it had been damaged in shipping and the archeologist or smuggler did their best to fix it with a smile. The sign didn’t say anything about the smile, just that the sculpture had been found 3 years ago in an ‘expedition’ in the south of Xhorhas. The title of the piece was ‘Angel of Beauty,’ which made Beau gag. Sure the woma-, the sculpture was beautiful, but it was such a boring shitty title for such an awesome bitch. She was wielding a sword ready to chop someone to bits and ready to take on a whole army, Angel of Beauty was such a generic title for a real work of art. Skimming the rest of the paragraph for any more info, Beau learned the locals called the work ‘The Orphanmaker,’ before the archeologist procured the work.

Beau thought it was a bit better, at least more metal and fitting for such a bad bitch, but it still didn’t fit the woman or the sculpture in Beau’s unasked for opinion. Still, Beau couldn’t let her dumb lesbian brain that made her have a crush on the only more unattainable woman in the world than Jester, stop her from getting her paper done. She took a picture of the placard to get a reference and took a few more of the statue itself from as many angles as she could. You weren’t technically supposed to take pictures of the artwork, but no one was around and Beau needed the pictures for her project…, and nothing else.

Still, the more time she spent with the statue the more Beau was enthralled. The more she stared at it, from every angle it felt like the woman was ready to come alive at any second. That one second Beau would be staring into eyes of white marble and then she would blink alive the next. The skill of the sculptor had practically tricked Beau into thinking the woman would have a pulse if she touched her, like she wasn’t carved out of stone.

It got to the point where Beau, who would never break the law, especially when it came to stolen art, got so fed up she decided to touch the statue just to prove to herself it wasn’t a real live person. Just a quick tap on the arm to prove to herself that the woman wasn’t alive, that’s all it would take to make her crazy thoughts quiet for a bit.

Unfortunately, or perhaps very fortunate given the outcome, Beau was wrong, very wrong. The moment she touched what would be the flesh of the woman, not her sword, or hair, or clothes, the moment her finger touched the skin on the woman’s arm, it felt warm. So warm that Beau couldn’t believe it, until the woman’s pulse woke her up. She tore her hand away like the statue was made of fire, but even as she did, she could see cracks forming in the sculpture starting from where she touched the woman on the arm.

“Shit,” Beau yelled, as she slammed her back into the wall, she didn’t even know she had backed away that far. She desperately tried to search for glue or anything that she could use to fix the crack she made, but the cracks only got bigger. By the time Beau looked back, they had shot down the woman’s arm and were coming down her body, and Beau only had time to swear every curse she knew in the five languages she spoke fluently (which you would think would take a while, but Beau had always been quick with her mouth and was well practiced with it and cursing) before the statue exploded.

The room was full of dust clouds and the only sound other than the hammering of Beau’s heart was the sound of a large woman breathing heavily. It only took a moment for the dust to clear and give Beau a good look at the Orphan Maker. On a whole, she was pretty much the same as the statue, same massive frame, same gorgeous face that Beau had gone gaga for, same strong arms holding the now sharp steel blade, and older Xhorhasian garb, not from the Krynn Dynasty. Now that she wasn’t a statue anymore though, there was a big change, even if she was mostly the same, there was a big difference between a beautiful woman carved out of white marble and a real gorgeous flesh and blood woman.

Her skin was pale, almost as pale as the white marble, but the rest of her and her clothes had splashes of color, mostly black, but not white stone. The biggest change though, other than being a living person of course, was her wings. When she was a statue the wings on her back had been white and feathery, now, they were black and skeletal. As if they had been burnt to cinder’s but still attached to her. She has heterochromatic eyes, one is light green, the other is violet, they are filled with rage, but it’s not directed at Beau, the woman who burst from the marble is just angry.

“Where am I,” the strange woman demanded once the dust cleared enough to see Beau.

“The Zadash University Museum,” Beau said trying to stay on the good side of this strange Amazonian goddess that just flexed out of a statue.

“Zadash,” the woman said slowly, like it was a foreign word. “That is a is a name from beyond the mountains,” she asked more than said.

“Yeah,” Beau nodded, “or I mean I suppose. We’re on the other side of the mountains from Xhorhas if that’s what you mean.”

“Then I am a long way from home,” the strange woman said seeming to calm down.

“Are you a spy from Xhorhas,” Beau asked, immediately realizing how stupid that sounded. Beau could handle herself in a fight, but this woman was massive and had a sword almost the size of her. It would be really hot if it was in a movie or a book instead of real life.

“No,” the woman shouted, “I am from Xhorhas, but I am no spy.”

“Alright,” Beau said, throwing her hands up to show she meant no harm, “I believe you.”

“I think…, I am lost,” the woman said calming down, her voice was a lot softer than Beau would have guessed when she wasn’t angry. “I was in my homeland, I was fighting something and then…, nothing.”

“Well, maybe you could start with something you do remember,” Beau asked, trying to keep things calm. “Do you remember your name?”

“Yasha,” Yasha apparently answered after a moment, “Yasha Nydoorin. And I think I need your help.”

It probably wasn’t a great idea to agree to this, she didn’t know Yasha much other than she was big, gorgeous, and popped out of a marble statue. But despite her well above average intelligence, she was also a lesbian with a dumb lesbian brain sometimes, and all she could say was “sure.” Maybe she’ll let Jester drag her off to the museum if this happens all the time.

#critical role #the mighty nein #fanfiction #beauyasha #beauyashaweek2021 #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #my work #cracklepop #modern au

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aclosetfan · 3 years ago

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are u still doing the ask game? can i ask for 19 or 20?

for you anon, of course! 20 is actually a really lame two-sentence note that isn't worth anyone's time, so I'll do 19!

19 is a really sad story tbh. I've always really liked the character Sedusa and it kills me that the writers never did more with her. I believe they said the reason why was because they couldn't think of many kid-friendly scenarios to put her in, which is fair lmao.

lol one of my notes for this outline is "this is my dark manifesto to [Sedusa] and it comes off like a bad CW remake," which was written way before the CW show announcement. so not to get a big ego about things, but I totally beat them to the punch. This fic is my only rated M fic (though arguably Acting Normal may also change into M just for its dark themes as well).

This story is adequately tilted "Sedusa" and it follows how a plain jane named Sara became one of Townsville's most notorious villains. The plot's below, though content warning, please don’t read if your triggered by abusive relationships, domestic violence, child abuse, sexual assault/harassment, or gore. The outline won't be detailed (and tbh the actual story won't be heavily detailed either) but i believe that everyone still deserves a fair warning :)

The outline doesn't do the plot justice, but it's all I got so hopefully people just Get It.

CHARACTER NOTES:

Canonically, I believe the Sedusa's character was supposed to represent envy and lust. So, one of the main themes I try to stick with when writing her character is the definition of envy, which is a "feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck."

PLOT:

Sara is a sweet and mousy little girl, who tries her best to stay invisible. She's rather plain-looking except for her really beautiful long dark hair. Originally, she's not from Townsville, but somewhere in the "country" where a person could be considered a bumpkin. Sara's a smart young girl, but her intelligence is rather unrefined. She spends most of her time obsessing over greek and Egyptian mythology.

She's from a rather big family, but she's the baby. Her father is abusive. Her mother is neglectful and Sara resents her mother for just standing by while abuse is occurring. To cope, Sara dreams of running away and falls deeper into her mythology obsession--specifically Medusa. Sara feels like Medusa would understand her.

At 16, she runs away to Townsville where she tries to be a hairdresser. With no money, she ends up in a really seedy part of town and the beauty parlor she works for ends up being a front for more illicit activities. She still does hair, but really makes her money as a call-girl of sorts. Just one of those girls who gives handjobs in the back to sad old men. It's easy money (I'm pro-sex work lol so I don't make this a big deal, but she's still a minor and it's wrong), but she's disgusted with herself (and men). At this time, she isn't very good at manipulating men--it's more like they have power over her and it reminds her of her father, only making her angrier and angrier.

It is also of note that while she's working at the Parlor, she encounters Sarah Bellum via tv (Ms. Bellum is just an intern with the Mayor at this point). She's instantly fascinated by this other Sarah and forms an odd (slightly toxic) parasocial relationship with her. Sara thinks it's amazing that Sarah went to school and is just so glamourous. Ms. Bellum is really everything Sara wants to be.

*time skip*

Sara falls in love with some jackass. Still slightly obsessed with Sarah Bellum. Still working at the parlor. Sara feels stagnant and worthless. Her jackass boyfriend and a few of his shitty friends end up attacking Sara and cutting off her hair (which was her prized possession). She gets away, but not totally unscathed.

In the process of running away, she bumps into a mysterious man who promises He can fix whatever is troubling her. The mysterious man manipulates an affirmative answer out of Sara and he "fixes" her problem. The man is HIM and he transforms her into the woman we all know as Sedusa (who goes by Ima when disguised).

“And what is it that you want?” HIM tsked, almost sounding bored.

She looked back at the mirror, at her broken reflection and lipstick smeared down her face. With a sore, croaking voice she sneered, “I want my fu-fucking hair back.”

Behind her, the entity smiled, Its facing splitting wide into two, “Oh, now that I can do.”

She watched through the shattered glass how It—HIM—snapped its odd monstrous claw. HIM’s smile grew more grotesque, as a thin bead of sweat began to break out on her forehead.

“This might hurt a little bit,” the entity giggled as she began to hyperventilate, “but what is that you little humans say?" HIM paused, watching her with a tilt of Its head as pain shot through her temples, "Oh, that’s right—”

She gasped and then screamed, dropping to her knees as she clutched at her head. Something wiggled underneath her scalp, pushing harder and harder to break against the resistance of her skin. It felt as if something was pressing against her brain, trying to carve away at her skull.

“—beauty is pain.” HIM growled, appearing next to her so Its voice—now low and baritone—was right in her ear, and It grasped her by the chin forcing her to watch the mirror as snake-like tendrils sprouted from her skull. She cried out at the sight and her body trembled with the pain.

One black, oily, twisted snake after another shot out of a bloody crater on her head. She tried her best through the pain to shake HIM off—to look away—but It held her still with a twisted laugh. She thrashed and howled in agony as the blood poured down her face in rivets. HIM didn't let go. Instead, HIM forced her still, grabbing her by the chin so she'd peer directly into the broken mirror.

Sara paled right before her very eyes, from a peachy skin tone to a white paste. She tried to blink away the tears that wouldn’t stop welling in her eyes—the green of them becoming more acidic with every passing second.

“The fun should be ending soon.” HIM giggled again, Its voice back to a soprano, but she was too forgone to hear him, as her eyes began to lull into the back of her head.

Eventually, when the transformation is complete, we see this:

Sara had stayed collapsed on her knees after HIM vanished into thin air. She stared with wide eyes as blood, sweat, and tears dripped onto and rolled off her thighs. She hardly paid attention to her surrounding, all she could do was listen. She listened to her hair. She listened to the constant moving, living, mass that slithered around her head, neck, and shoulders. The coils almost seemed to be cooing at her, comforting her through her pain, offering sweet apologies for what they had done. They promised her nothing bad would ever happen again. They were a dangerous shield forged from her own body to protect her.

Her body. A vessel for this odd new life.

“Heh.” A deranged giggle escaped her mouth, “Heh. Heh ha—hahaha!” She laughed until her throat burned and tightened, her tears finally drying.

It was instantaneous. It was powerful. Sara had never known love before, but she loved them. She loved every single one of them.

And here she had thought she'd never be a mother.

Sara becomes Sedusa--taking inspiration from Medusa, her childhood fascination. She wonders if HIM knew, but she wouldn't bother asking. She feels sexy, powerful, and unstoppable. Her hair has instilled a new confidence in her and she's finally able to stand up for herself. Soon, she realizes that she's an "exotic" beauty and has men eating out of her hand. She isn't someone who kills, but if she gets bored (or feels threaten) she will.

Things are going good until the PowerPuff Girls are finally created. When she sees them for the first time, she pities them, especially when they're run out of town. She relates to them for not being loved little girls, but is completely shocked when she finds out they've won the town over. This shock turns into resentment and she decides she'll get even with the girls

Then, cue canon. Sedusa seduces the Professor. We see what happens in that episode plus a little more. Sedusa takes out a lot of her repressed childhood trauma on the girls and is plain awful to them. By the time her stint with the Professor is over, she hates them all.

Then, there's the episode with Bellum. Bellum becomes the Athena to Sedusa's medusa. Bellum is still this elevated person in Sedusa's mind, and it only makes sense to Sedusa that she should become Bellum. To become Bellum, Sedusa seduces Bellum and they end up having a brief relationship. (Sedusa pretends to be an intern at City Hall and the two ladies bond over having the same first name). Eventually, Sedusa reveals her plot and the canon events happen. (Bellum is heartbroken over Sedusa).

I'd like to emphasize that Sedusa's relationship with Bellum almost turns her "good," but her hair coils (HIM's curse) prevents her from taking those steps. Her coils prevent close loving relationships--since they're supposed to be shield that keeps people out, preventing any chance that Sedusa's heart may be broken again. [coils represent her inability to heal from the past]

Then we run through a quick montage of her other appearances.

[throughout all of this, I would write how her hair coils are making her more and more insane]

*time skip to after the events of the og show*

This is where my plot can go anywhere. I think Sedusa becomes sloppy, maybe kills a politican. She's spirialing out of control and mad that she can't find any real happiness in her life. I think it'd be interesting to show her interacting with the rrb, not necessarily to show their relationship, but to show how Sedusa would be infuriated that HIM had sons, especially sons who hurt girls for fun ( i.e. the ppg) (a real 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' moment for her). She's also infuriated at HIM for turning her into a monster, so being mad about his "sons" is just an excuse to get even with the entity.

To hurt HIM, she decides to hurt the boys, but the girls interfere. They won't let innocent live be taken, no matter the person's moral alignment. This infuriates Sedusa even more than HIM ever could. Because again, despite all the shitty things that have happened to the Girls, they are still good as opposed to Sedusa, who ended up bad. She doesn't understand why she had to end up the way she did.

However, the girls aren't the people who finally "defeat" Sedusa. Instead, that honor is left to Ms. Bellum (Sedusa's "Athena"), who Sedusa still very much loves in her own sick twisted way. Paralleling the Sedusa/Bellum episode in the og show, the girls (while protecting the boys) are almost defeated by Sedusa until Bellum intervenes. It's revealed that Bellum had a shitty childhood too (again enforcing the parallels/differences between the two women) and believes that it's not too late for Sedusa to change her ways (it’s a real “I’m rotten work” “no it isn’t. Not if it’s you” moment) In a moment of mental clarity, where the coils (and by extension HIM) cannot affect her judgement, Sedusa releases the boys and the girls. Sedusa doesn't stay though, like Bellum pleads, she gets scared and runs away. (but does tell Bellum she’d always love her, whatever that’s good for)

[also I decide bellum to defeat sedusa to show that the girls are still to young and that adults should be the ones dealing with other adults] [and bellum has a good track record of doing just that]

Idk if she'd be gone forever, but it's implied that she hasn't been seen in Townsville for a long time. What she gets up to is left ambiguous. She can't be good because of her hair coils, but she doesn't want to be bad. idk I don't want it to have a sad ending, but I don't think it can really be happy.

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I try hard to play with the concept of beauty, womanhood, purity, love and how negative/positive responses to trauma affect these concepts. Idk it's really rough and needs to be thought out more, especially the end, but I think Sedusa deserves her own story.

#this isn't edited sorry I'm tired #outline ask game #my outlines #sedusa #this story is near and dear to me #but i don't think i have the skills to write it yet #my writings #the boys are literally not important btws they’re knocked out the whole time or something idk #this story ain’t about them

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