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queers-gambit · 9 months

Text

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Brothel - Dicks

The brothel, aka real housecreeps, is a meta reality show about the Joels and other blorbos. Normally everything is smooth sailing, but we mostly air the drama.

Collect calls SPOILERS

brothel master list

Oh no, a producer leaked a copy of the dick HCs and raider Joel just sent me a dick pic with a ruler for scale, claiming I shorted him. I stared at it for a good 60 seconds, then left him on read. Now someone's knocking at my bedroom door. I ignore it and respond to the pic instead. "Sorry 😬"

Raider, muffled outside my door: Think ya might need a better look. (I don't answer) Can I at least talk to ya?

I put on my robe, begrudgingly let him in, and try not to look at the bulge in his tactical jeggings.

Raider: Production told me to take it up with you.

Me: Tell me you didn't send pictures to production. (Raider is silent.) That's sexual harassment. God damnit, in the middle of your PR tour?

Raider hangs his head and seems sorry until he unzips his tactical jeggings and that's the only reason he was looking down. I'm tempted to make him jack off just because, but I shake my head no.

Raider: Be a good girl for me and it'll be over quick.

Me: are you regressing back to March over this? Don't talk to me like a reader, and don't come in here taking your dick out.

Raider nods solemnly, and I sheepishly add under my breath, "unless I tell you to." The toilet flushes and I nervously look toward the bathroom.

Trouble walks out, fully dressed, buttoning his shirt.

Trouble, to Raider: Didn't I tell you to leave this shit alone, man?

Raider: Pool house, huh? You live in the pool house?

Raider sticks his head into the bathroom and sees there's a big, lavish bedroom connected on the other side and the bed is made. Trouble mouths to me, 'want him to leave?' and I shrug like Idk what to do.

Raider: Can you give us a minute, man?

Trouble: I think you should leave, Raid. I get you're upset but don't bust up in here at 6 in the morning.

Me: Neither of you are leaving.

I put Trouble in the cuck chair, Raider sits on the bed, and I sit down at the vanity to finish talking to him. His pants are still open but I'm not looking.

Me (attempting to be comforting) Hey, anything more than 7" is a waste anyway.

Trouble (7") nods.

Raider: this ain't about sweet pea.

Trouble: that's your issue, man.

Me, to Raider: You're the biggest one either way, why're you pitching a fit over less than a centimeter?

Raider and Trouble look at each other. Trouble shakes his head at Raider like, don't say it.

Raider: We know about him.

Oh, shit. Trouble sighs. I play stupid.

Me: you know about who?

Raider: Jojo.

Me: He doesnt have an HC.

Raider: He has a bulge.

Me: I haven't even seen his dick.

Raider: You've seen his dick print.

Me: How do you--

Raider: All I'm askin' for is accuracy, that's it. Ill do ya a dick print if ya want.

Me: Lemme talk to my dick consultant (@jazziepascal ).

Raider: What'd I do? I used to be your emotional support Joel. Your mental health Joel.

I realize maybe he could've helped me through this month if I spent more time with him.

Me: You still are, c'mere.

I open my arms for a hug. We embrace, but his dick is still hard so it's awkward. After the hug, Trouble is making a face like he wouldnt mind being cucked, but I clear my throat , adjust my robe, and dismiss both of them.

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

Later that day, the men gather in the kitchen. They're huddled around the table and you can't see Night Walks, but they're all talking to him. You can see balled up pieces of paper on the floor and and on the counter there's an open ream of printer paper and an open tub of vasoline.

Thighs Out: I think you've gotta really slap it down.

(loud smack)

Thighs Out: There ya go. Your turn, slasher.

#joelkémon brothel #joelkémon sitcom ☠️#meta #metafic #toxicanonymity ☠️

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britishmuffin · 2 years

Note

Hello, Britishmuffin

I hope you are having a wonderful day/night.

Just wanted to know what inspires you to make such amazing art pieces? As well how do you deal with art block?

Im a artist myself but times get tuff and I lose motivation and start developing art block.

Sincerely, fisheggsoup :)

Morning! Love your name :D

Truthfully, my biggest motivator is born of necessity these days. I create art because I have bills to pay and family to support. My patrons are a huge driving force in all this, cheering me on from the sidelines while I work; my band of blessed saviours.

I also make sure that my social feeds are full of artists I love, who make art that makes me happy. I'm always watching films and playing games, always constantly absorbing media in this wacky age of technology-infused information. Then if I'm lucky, I get the chance to step outside for a walk in the woods with my sibling to help ground ourselves in the world and reconnect with nature, pure medicine for the troubled soul.

All of these activities serve to stir the Brain Soup and sometimes reflect in my artwork. I rarely get struck with the "fabled bolt of inspiration" these days, but I blame the current climate. I did used to.

As some of you will already know because I'm being quite open about it this time, I'm currently battling the worst bout of burnout I've had in literal years. So really, I'm not sure I'm the best person to be asking on the topic of how to deal with it, but here you go:

In my experience it’s not the best idea to wait for inspiration to strike. Inspiration is unreliable, constantly waiting can leave you anxious, and also most of us just don’t have the luxury of being able to. I kinda think we just need to create despite it (or TO spite it, or in order to spite someone who told you you couldn't, if that's your sauce).

If you feel like your art sucks, instead of expecting perfection try just giving yourself permission to be bad at art for a while, you might be surprised about how much of a relief it feels. Make a hundred terrible little sketches, doodles, scribbles, or just make marks on paper. You don’t even have to show them to anyone, they can be just for your eyes! More often than not I’ve found that the physical act of creating artwork can genuinely inspire you to make more, and better work. It flexes those art muscles and gets the creative cogs whirring. Just make stuff!!!

As a person who’s had little choice but to create for years, it can be really helpful to push through it. Not always, though.

Sometimes the art block you’re staring down actually goes layers deep into the realms of debilitating mental health and poor living status, right into dangerous burnout and breakdown territory. Some would argue that creating art in times of real pain is the best medicine, and indeed, creates the best results. I wholly disagree.

My advice is to always make art in those moments when you can, even if it sucks. And when you just can’t, then rest. Watch your favourite guilty pleasure anime, cook some delicious food, hug your pets, go exist in nature for a bit. Have you ever seen Kiki’s Delivery Service? That!

Helpful links to combat art block:

Line of Action has great learning resources, while also being a brilliant tool for a variety of speedy sketch warm-ups

Don’t know what to draw? Use a character description generator!

You could flex your figure drawing muscles with models on Figurosity, AdorkaStock, or ArtModels360 (nudity warning)

Improve your fundamental art skills with Drawabox or videos on The Fix List

Generate some colour palettes to use as a challenge. Adobe’s colour wheel tool isn’t too bad either

Other more practical tips include:

If you struggle staying motivated, try to refocus by sitting down and asking yourself "What kind of art do I really want to create?” Try to rediscover what excites you! Is your aim to work in the art industry? To be able to draw your OCs smooching? Draw beefy bara men? Do you really just wanna paint cool rocks? All valid af

Pull up images of your favourite artworks and study them. Ask yourself “Why do I like this artwork?” Are the outfits really cool designs? Is the lineart super stylish? Do you love the way they used colours? After that, think about what you need to learn to get to that point yourself, and start small. Mimic your favourite artworks in order to learn how to do it.

Example: If you realise that you want to improve at drawing hands, just spend a week learning about them. Draw pages and pages of them, find a way to make them fun and sexy to draw! I did just that, and now hands are actually one of my favourite things to draw, it works.

Warm-ups are SO important. If you just started on a piece and already feel defeated, ask yourself “Did I warm up enough first?” You can try looping fifty quick spirals in different sizes with your pen, scratch out some box shapes, doodle some funky wiggly shapes, crosshatch them, whatever you want! Just get that hand moving before you leap into your artwork of choice, it helps to loosen up to keep your lines from becoming too stiff.

If it’s just not working today, that’s okay. Take a break by filtering your creativity into another entirely different creative pursuit. You could try baking something tasty, making music, writing for your next D&D campaign, building cute houses in minecraft or the sims, painting miniatures, crafting with paper or sewing fabric, etc etc. Anything that keeps the creative brain ticking that isn’t drawing is also worthwhile.

And, mentally:

Try not to worry about what other people think of your artwork. Doesn’t matter what age you are or your background, the fact you’ve created anything at all is incredible. You brought something into the world that didn’t exist before. You’re powerful as hell.

Related: please please please don’t focus on being “successful” on social media. Even though I know it can feel awesome to post your art and get instant reactions, these things are a death spiral of addictive behaviour and shouldn’t dictate your creativity. Use sparingly.

Remember that your kid self would absolutely be losing their mind over the cool stuff you’ve made now. Same goes for your ancient ancestors who used to make those little clay animals. You’re doing great, be proud.

Don’t be so damn hard on yourself. I mean it <3

If you keep drawing you will improve. You will get your motivation back. You will make art again even if it takes you a while. And know that a muffin is cheering for you c:

#sorry this turned out kinda long wtf haha #reply #muffin tips

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dark-elf-writes · 1 year

Note

Sharing the sharingan:

Itachi being like “huh, what? You just told me to kill all the Uchiha’s Mr.Danzo. And this piece of paper clearly says that man is NOT an Uchiha. You’d think the shadow hokage would know how to fucking read.”

What to do when your teammate uses you to commit suicide (a self help guide for the lost, confused, and used)

the book is blank because hey it’s a first for me too kid.

An Uchiha who turns to love rather than hate.

Them taking care of Sakumo’s body and cleaning the blood off kakashi :’(

ACE/ARO REP BITCHESSSSS

Kakshi double fisting a weirdly accurate self help book and pure smut while white knuckling his mental health.

Two bros chilling in a one room apartment with a hoard of semi-adopted kids co-writing porn for their little brother’s mental health because they’re not gay

ADHD Hyuga 0-0

Naruto buying Kabuto and scaring him with his teeth cuz he won’t go to any other healer but the Uchiha

“Destroy eyes” pact now including one traumatized dog man

May the lord have mercy on your insignificant soul because I swear to god if I ever see your bitch ass again I will not.

Gordon Uchiha

As much as it hurts to see the light come for his pups he’s so fucking glad they get to live another day, get to break the cycle of the Hatakes (because they are all Hatakes no matter what clans two of them were born into) dying young.

*sniffle*^^^^^

Big Lap Dog problem where the pups grew bigger and Sakumo did not as he is dead, so where two scrawny teenagers and an actual toddler never knocked Sakumo over three ANBU who have long since grown out of the gangliness of youth and have spent years packing on muscle through training very much do.

But you are incredibly correct imagining them as different heights is somehow deeply upsetting and they have to be the exact same height for Reasons

The three friend killers. With phantom blood of enemies and once allies forever staining their hands. The three remaining sharingan users. All of them with a flee on sight status in most bingo books. All of them cuddling in the nearly empty lounge.

The Uchiha: oh yeah…sorry I called you a bitch. The Hyuga: it’s fine. I am a bitch.

So when she knows she can't escape (She was never going to beat them, they have always been better than her no matter how hard she tried) she decides to just.... let their jutsu hit her. To die by her brothers hands is probably the best end she could hope for.

She stands back from the fire at first when the boys finally meet them (too soon. Far too soon) but kakashi spots her in the dark just like he always had. And what chance did she have not to be buried under the weight of her brothers (what were they all eating that they had gotten so damn tall.

one soul in two bodies, the closest someone could be to another person without cracking their chest open to crawl inside (she wondered one day if one of them would. Would take that final step to rejoin their hearts until they were one whole being again.) they had taken different approaches to the hatred

Seeing two Byakugan split between two faces. Knowing that the eyes once called the true heart of a dojutsu user were swapped between the two in actuality.

Sasuke constantly stuck in a game of catch-up he never seems to win. Chasing after distant goals and figures he can barely see, let alone match.

The third teammate in sharing the Sharingan: “But she’s still the outsider, she doesn’t share their strange pack mentality…”. Me: it’s the neurodivergence babe.

!!!!!

#the elf talks #naruto #sharing the sharingan #ngl a lot of these are my favs too #that being said I don’t remember where the ‘sorry I called you a bitch’ ‘no yah I am a bitch’ was but I now have to go find that post #because I’m cackling okay #I also like the ‘they are probably going to crack the other open and crawl inside’ line because yeah #that’s how they be #also can never forget the absolute banger like #it’s the neurodivergence babe

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she-karev · 4 months

Text

Snowstorm (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev's Sister)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 16 Episode 15

Mental Health Resources: https://www.nami.org/, https://www.aacap.org/, https://www.dbsalliance.org/, https://afsp.org/

Summary: After their massive fight Amber works at the hospital during a blizzard when she finds out Andrew went on foot to retrieve an organ in the middle of the snowstorm. She and Carina visit him in his hospital room where he snaps at her again and kicks her out of their apartment.

Words: 2623

Amber’s feet crunch the snow as she paces back and forth outside the pit in her scrubs, fleece jacket and beanie to keep herself warm. She opted to go outside for some privacy to call DeLuca and reprimand him for what she considers an extremely dumbass move. A few hours ago, Carina called her up to peds where Alex told them that DeLuca volunteered to go out on foot to retrieve a liver for his dying patient. She didn’t tell him about what Andrew said to her the other night because she knew he would be angry and want to beat him up again. At the state Andrew is in he might put her brother in jail permanently just to spite her.

She breathes in the cold blizzard air through her nose that makes it stuffy causing her to become angrier. She waits for Andrew to answer her 20th call today but it goes straight to voicemail again causing her to curse under her breath. She doesn’t notice Jackson Avery approaching behind her blowing hot air into his hands looking to see how she is. Amber groans and decides to leave another message hoping he listens to this one and knows she means business.

“If your ears aren’t frozen off when you hear this then consider this your last warning Andrea Vincenzo DeLuca.” Jackson looks taken back by her harsh tone not seeing the look of fury on her face, “If your ass is not back here in this warm hospital in the next 30 minutes I will go out on foot, drag your frozen body back here where I will warm you up by setting you on fire!”

Amber hits the hang up button, “Wow and I thought Vic was angry on the phone.”

“I am not in the fucking mood Jackson.” Amber snaps at him, “If you came here to complain about your latest side piece fighting with you over the phone again, I suggest you turn around and deal with another frostbite that will be less ugly than I will be with you.”

Jackson holds his hands up in defense and walks up to Amber’s view where he can see that despite how angry she sounds she looks scared. He puts his hands down and rubs her arms to keep her warm, “I’m not here to complain about Vic again, given how you told me to screw off when I did, I know better now. Also, I can see how worried you are about DeLuca so I’m gonna let the side piece comment pass. Believe me I’ve been where you are when April went overseas but this isn’t that. It’s a hospital three miles away and as long as he’s bundled up, he’ll be fine. He’s just trying to save a little girl instead of waiting around for a miracle that might not come. He’s being a doctor like all of us.”

“He has bipolar disorder.” Amber tells him in a broken voice like a child. Jackson’s eyes shot up at that new information, “He’s manic like his father, he’s not being a doctor right now and he’s not the man that I love anymore he is a mentally ill person who is risking his life and not considering the consequence. It’s a textbook symptom.”

Jackson takes a beat before calmly responding, “Okay look I get that your mind goes to the mental illness angle because of the way you grew up but maybe you should take a second before accusing him of something he might not even have. You don’t have the right degree to diagnose him.”

“I grew up with mentally ill people all of my life.” Amber reminds him in a strained voice, “I know the signs of a breakdown when I see one Jackson. I saw it the other night when I confronted him and he yelled at me and compared me to my father.”

Jackson shakes his head in shock and looks at her offended by Andrew’s cruel comment, “Wait what? He did what?”

“Yeah, you heard me and it’s as bad as you think it is.”

Jackson turns angry at DeLuca for hurting Amber when she was trying to help him and it shows in his eyes, “I am gonna kick his ass.”

“I might beat you to it.” Amber sniffles, “I know it’s hard to accept help when you need it and I can’t force him like I couldn’t force my mom. I know he didn’t ask for this mental illness but the way he’s going its…”

“Frustrating?” Amber nods at Jackson’s suggestion, “Yeah you sound like me when me and April were having our problems. Does Alex know about this?”

“No nobody but you knows about this. If I tell him it’s gonna make him pity me and I can’t stand having people pity me. ‘Oh, the poor little girl with the crazy mom, crazy brother and crazy boyfriend’ I saw it in his eyes at the hospital after Aaron attacked me and I cannot do that again. God, I know he didn’t ask for this curse but I really hate Andrew for doing this to me. It sounds horrible I know.”

“No, it’s not you’re not horrible.” Jackson states kindly, “Your just tired and you’ve more than earned the right to be. We’re both doctors so we both know that it could have been the illness that said it and it doesn’t make him inherently selfish but it is selfish of him to bring you down with him and not doing anything about it.”

“I know, I know believe me I have recited that mantra with my mom, my brother and now…” Amber looks up at the dark sky in agony, “Is there something wrong with me?”

Jackson can immediately tell what she’s thinking and shakes his head, “No there is nothing wrong with you.”

“Because I feel like everyone, I love ends up bonkers in the end so I think maybe I’m cursed like I have a pheromone that drives people crazy and makes them attack me when I try to help.” Amber wipes a stray tear away, “If that’s the case I have the worst superpower in the world.”

“Listen to me.” Jackson grips Amber’s biceps to bring her back from that dark hole in her head, “None of that was your fault it was just…a few bad spins at the genetic wheel. You didn’t do anything wrong.” This makes Amber’s lips quiver as she’s near in tears, “This is not your fault.”

“Please stop.” Amber orders as she breaks out of his hold, “Hearing that there was no logical reason for this new mental case in my life doesn’t make me feel better. It just makes me feel like I am destined to suffer for life because of my family and the person I love. So just please stop consoling me because I will cry and I really hate crying and the person who made me cry and I can’t afford to hate you too please don’t make me hate you.”

“Okay, okay it’s okay.” Jackson rubs her arms and talks soothingly, “You’re not gonna hate me I promise. No matter what happens with DeLuca I’ll be there for you, you know that right?”

Amber nods knowing full well if she can’t trust Andrew to get help when he needs it, she can at least trust Jackson to be there to pick her up in the aftermath. Over the past 2 years their relationship has grown from wingman to friends to surrogate siblings. She never told anyone this but she considers Jackson a big brother taking Aaron’s spot when he’s not here. He does what Aaron would do in this situation, comfort her and reassure her that he is always in her corner no matter how awful she is to him.

Suddenly Jackson’s phone beeps and he looks at it with a worried look causing her to be curious, “What is it?”

“DeLuca is here right now.”

Amber’s relief is stalled as she has a question in the way, “Why did they page you for that?”

Later

Amber quickly walks inside the pit with Jackson to find Carina and Andrew by the trauma room arguing in Italian. She sees the damage clear as day from Andrew’s hands that are frozen red, black and blue. The sight horrifies her but she keeps going with Andrew not giving her the time of day.

“Look will you all stop!” Andrew yells out in English, “I need to get back out there the pit is overrun it’s not that bad.”

“Oh god.” Amber throws a towel over his shoulders and opens the trauma room door, “Get in right the hell now before your fingers start to decay and fall off!”

“She says as gently as she can.” Jackson supports as he leads an annoyed Andrew inside the room, “In now.”

Andrew is still defiant while Jackson gets to work, “Everyone is overexaggerating okay? We’re taking away your resources from actual patients that need us. Stop.” Amber scoffs at Andrew refusing to see that his hands can’t keep still because they are still cold to the core. While she pinches the bridge of her nose Carina admonishes Andrew for his reckless behavior in Italian clearly pissed. Andrew responds back in his native tongue still insistent his condition doesn’t warrant concern. Jackson sends Simms to get the supplies to start defrosting his hands leaving them.

“Okay I don’t know what you are saying but I am guessing your still insisting on going back out there despite the fact your hands are still shaking not to mention blue, red and black.”

“Can you just stay out of this? I don’t need your help.” Andrew snaps at Amber who looks at him offended.

“You clearly needed it when you went out there in an 8-degree blizzard that left your hands frozen solid!” Andrew rolls his eyes at me that pisses Amber off more, “Meanwhile I was here calling you and worrying about you wondering if you froze to death!”

Andrew looks at her with a vicious glint, “Well, I’m sorry for trying to save a little girl while you pinned over me on the phone.”

Amber shakes her head in shock over Andrew trying to make himself into the hero and her into the villain. She pulls her hair back trying to rein in her emotions while Jackson worked on Andrew who is still insistent that he is fine.

“Stop this is ridiculous. I need to treat patients.”

“You’re not treating patients like this.” Carina tells Andrew frustrated, “W-Who are you gonna treat? Andrea you're not a doctor right now.”

“Can we get my sister out of here, please?” Jackson is too busy to listen to Andrew.

“DeLuca, I've been doing this all day, so I need you to listen close. If you do not let me treat you exactly the way I need to, you will lose one or both of your hands, and your future as a surgeon, okay? So sit tight, shut the hell up, and let me get you thawed out.” That stopped Andrew as he sat still while Jackson worked. Amber leaves the room feeling frustrated and not wanting to risk hitting Andrew while Avery tries to save his surgical career.

Two Hours Later

Carina and Amber walk side by side towards Andrew’s room looking to see how he is after Jackson defrosted his hands as best as he could. Amber spent that time working in the pit channeling her rage into treating patients and it mostly worked as she is calmer now but still angry at Andrew for risking his life without even talking to her about it. She makes a note to herself to bring that up later sensing that he is still raw and will probably snap at the first attack. They pass Jackson as he exits the room and see Andrew in bed in a hospital gown with topical cream covering his still blue and black hands.

“I’m not really in the mood for visitors.” Andrew bluntly states.

Amber inhales and exhales, “Look um I just thought you should know that Elisa is okay, she’s in the PICU and she’s stable…thanks to you. So, I just wanted you to know that.”

“I do know that.” Andrew responds coldly, “And I also know that if you'd had it your way, I wouldn't have gone out there, and that little girl would be dead. So, I guess you're thanking me for not talking to you first.”

Amber closes her eyes as she senses déjà vu from the night of their fight. It started with him refusing to see the error of his ways and ended with him saying that without him in her life she would have ended up like her father.

Carina steps in to try, “Andrea, we were just worried about you. Okay, this is just like when Papa-”

“I'm not him, okay?! I'm not him! For the first time in my career, I'm succeeding on my own, without anybody's help. Why can't you just be happy for me and accept that? Why-Why-Why do you always got to accuse me of-of not being well?”

Amber sighs and tries to make him see why they have concerns, “There is a history here Andrew-”

Andrew interrupts her with a comment that takes Amber by surprise in a bad way, “Okay, well I didn’t accuse you of having schizophrenia when you had a panic attack on our first date, did I?” Amber stands there with her eyes wide as they look hurt and shock by a new low Andrew achieved in their relationship, “You know what if your gonna keep badgering me and saying I have a problem then you should probably get out of my place!”

Carina tries to step in while Amber is still frozen in shock looking close to tears, “Andrea-”

“I asked you to leave!” Andrew continues not bothering to see how much this is hurting Amber, “I don’t need you here Amber!”

Amber can only respond in a broken voice, “You don’t mean that.”

Andrew keeps going still talking down to her despite his vulnerable state, “Your right, it’s not that I don’t need you, it’s that I don’t want you here, GET OUT!”

Amber takes a deep breath so she can keep her tears to herself to not give him the satisfaction. She promptly turns around, walks out the door and slams the door behind her as hard as humanly possible hoping it makes it clear that she is done with him just like he’s done with her.

That Night

Jackson sips his glass of whiskey ready for a good night’s sleep after about 10 hours of debriding frost bite. After his shift he ran into Vic and they made up not even remembering what their fight was about. She suggested they meet at his place but he said no saying he predicts he has a friend coming over tonight. Now he’s still up waiting for his friend to show up after the fight he heard outside DeLuca’s room. He hears a knock on the door of his penthouse causing him to groan softly but stand up. He walks to the door and as he expected Amber Karev is on the other side looking numb from heartbreak with a suitcase and duffle bag by her side. He looks at her in sympathy and simply takes her duffle bag indicating the answer to her soon to be asked question.

“I’m sorry Amber.” Jackson can only say with Amber sniffling.

“Can I crash at your place?”

“Of course, come in.” He opens the door and allows her in where she drags her suitcase with her and he closes the door.

#greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greysanatomyedit #greysedit #amber karev #andrew deluca #jackson avery #mental heath support #mentalheathawareness #mental heath awareness #mental health #mental illness #giacomo gianniotti #elizabeth gillies #liz gillies #headcanon #mine

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romanarose · 2 years

Text

Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: Chapter 31

Steven Grant x OC X Marc Spector

Story Masterlist

Previous Chapter : Next Chapter

Fic Summary: Steven meets Sam and they strike up a quick relationship, both kindhearted and loving, they fall fast. But both have a lot going on. Steven had Marc and Moon Knight, and Sam has mental health problems of her own. Slowly, Steven starts to put together pieces of her story as Sam starts to get to know Marc and Jake.

Chapter summary: Sam and her boys continue to deal with the events of the last 2 months, Sam getting some news about her family. Will this make things worse, or will it be what she needs to snap out of it?

Warnings: Talk about a suicide attempt, pregnancy, Marc being a tad controlling, being kinda shitty, Sam being shitty about their DID and a big rude to Layla at first. Yelling. I think that's it? Still a lil angsty but it's getting better. LIL SMUT not much but enough! I didn't feel like writing a whole lot, but I felt it fit what they needed.

***************

Steven and Sam sat together on the couch, watching all Sam’s favorite Doctor Who episodes. They were exhausted. The previous several nights had been long, and even after they went inside that night, there wasn’t much sleep. The morning saw gentle conversations of why Sam was brought to that point. Sam didn’t have much of a reason, she was just exhausted and when she woke up in the middle of the night it just felt like a natural end, like it fit the narrative of her life. Sam was honest. When they asked her how she was the morning or how Sam’s day went, she told them. She was completely truthful, telling them she still wanted to die, she still wanted to hurt herself, but she was trying to hold on like Steven said. Mary’s first communion, her graduation… Jake quietly removed razors, belts and knives and hid them in the secret compartment that Marc had once hid his things from Steven.

Sam refused to skip classes and work the next day, as midterms were around the corner, but Sam allowed Steven to tell Jess what happened the night before. Two weeks passed, and she was effectively on suicide watch. The rule of her being walked to and from work and classes was reimplemented, much to the annoyance of Sam, who hated being treated like a child. Steven didn’t want to infantilize her, but it was clear she was in a fragile mental state.

Marc didn’t sleep. He stayed up as long as he could hold himself, even cracking open Steven’s “welcome to staying awake” tapes once he was sure Sam was asleep. He didn’t want her to worry about him, but Marc was spiraling in constant anxiety. The only time he could even slightly relax was when Sam was right there in front of him. When he finally fell asleep, his arms were wrapped around her, almost gluing her to him, and if she stirred or went to the bathroom, he would wake up immediately with a ‘everything okay, Brightside?’ It drove Sam absolutely insane, it crouched in on her independence, but she felt like it hadn’t been earned back yet. Marc was starting to feel like a parent more than a partner. Maybe that’s the risk you run when you call your boyfriend daddy, she considered more than once.

They wouldn’t touch her. That’s what happens when the first time you have sex in two months, you try to kill yourself. Maybe this is what she deserved. She was fragile. She tried to jump off the fucking roof in front of them. Maybe she deserved to be babied.

Sam felt a buzz in her pocket: she was getting a phone call. That was odd, her mom usually waited for Sam to call her, and no one else would be calling on friday. When she sat up, pulling her phone out, she frowned.

“Who is it love?” Steven looked concerned.

“It’s Teresa…” Her sister never called her. They texted.

“Oh… is that bad?”

“I don’t know” Sam swiped to answer. “Hey T, what’s- Oh, hi Chris. Why are you? Uh. yeah. Okay, let me just step outside.”

Sam stood up, followed by Steven. “Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure, Teresa has me on a three way call with Chris, said she needs to talk to us. I’m stepping outside.” Left the couch, and noticed Steven trailing behind her. She held out her hand. “Stop, I need privacy Steven.” Sam went to put on her shoes.

“Sam, maybe-”

“Steven, stop! I’m not gonna kill myself!” She snapped, before turning to the phone. “No, nothing T. Just, ugh, hold on.” She muted the phone, and turned to Steven as she put on her coat and Jake’s scarf. For all her crocheting, she never made one for herself. “She wants me to talk to them alone, you can’t eavesdrop.”

Steven wrung his hands together in his nervous habit. Don’t let her go out alone, Steven. You can’t keep her locked up, Marc I’m not, you- Marc stopped himself before calling Jake an asshole. He promised Sam he’d try, and he was significantly less angry at Jake than he had been. “Love, do you think that’s a good idea? I won’t listen in, but maybe I can just-”

“No!” Sam snapped, then took a deep breath, calming herself. Her boys were only trying to protect her from herself. If she felt like a child or a prisoner, she did this to herself. “Sorry, I just, I need to do this, it’s a family thing, and I need space. Steven, I love you but I need space.” She tried to soften her expression. “You have my location, you can see if I wonder, okay Sunshine?”

Steven, no. “Okay, darling, I hope everything is alright.”

She smiled at him lovingly. “Thank you. I love you Steven with a V.”

“I love you, just Sam.”

Steven listened to Jake and Marc argue in his head. Despite their mutual irritation with each other, Steven couldn’t help but notice how much softer it was. Their words, in particular with, were far less vehement, less angry and far less hurtful. Steven couldn’t help but think how they sounded more like bickering brothers. Nonetheless, it was clear Marc had a very different idea on how to handle Sam. Marc’s process was hyper protective. If he had it his way, them and Sam would stay in the apartment all the time, just them, no outside world. Jake seemed to think a detached methode was better. He thought they should, after the first few days, go back to normal. Sam valued her independence, she wouldn’t want to be treated differently. Steven thought neither were fully correct. He could not go along with Jake; as long as she was still expressing a desire to die, him, Elena and Jessica were going to be keeping an eye on her. But he also wouldn't go along with Marc. Sam was her own person, she existed outside of them, and deserved to have her own life.

When she came back, Sam was pale. Well. More pale than usual. Steven scrambled off the couch to where she stood, closing the door behind her as she stared at the wall. Not hesitating for a second, he took her in his arms and she melted into his hold. “Sweetheart, what happened? Is everyone okay?” Teresa still lived with her parents, he wondered if something had happened with her dad, did he hurt the younger kids?

“She’s pregnant”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

God dammit

“Shit, love, I’m so sorry… What… what’s she going to do?”

Sam pulled back and went to the kitchen.

Try and distract her. She doesn’t need to drink every time she feels a negative emotion.

For once, Marc didn’t argue. Seeing her drunk on the roof top that night had begun to change his mind on whether she had a drinking problem or not.

Steven followed behind her, attempting to take the vodka out of her hand, but Sam’s grip was tight. “What are you doing?” She asked, pulling it away from him.

“Can we maybe… Can we talk about this without drinking?”

Sam scoffed, turning away to get the juice from the fridge. “Just give me Marc, since he’s the only one who doesn’t throw a fit about it.”

Okay, now that hurt. Steven grabbed her shoulder, making her turn to face him.”Hey now,” Sam was a bit taken aback by the hurt that sparkled in his big, brown eyes. Usually they hurt for her, but right now they hurt because of her. “You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?” she challenged.

Steven shook his head. “You don’t to pick and choose who you’re talking to like that. You can’t just change us mid-conversation to suit what you want from us. And for the record, Marc isn’t happy about the drinking either, since we found you with a bottle of wine and a half drunk bottle of vodka, trying to throw yourself from the roof.”

Sam glared at him for a few moments, considering how to argue. But Steven’s face… She didn’t like hurting him, any of them, and they had been putting up with so much lately… they deserved better than her, no matter what they said. She softened her features, gaze averting to the floor. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was shitty.”

“Yeah. It was.” But his tone was less harsh.

She sat the bottle down. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been.” Sam tapped each of her fingers to her thumb anxiously. “I’d like to say I’ll do better, but honestly, I don’t really know what better looks like.”

“It’s alright love. We’re getting through this, all of us, together. It’s going to be okay.”

Will it? Will it ever be like it was? Or was the honeymoon period over? Sam considered the last several months since Christmas. Steven, Marc and Jake had seen some of the worst and stuck by her with her family, with her first fight with Steven… multiple fights with Marc and Jake. They had been there for her through the assault, and even still through her suicide attempt. They couldn’t keep going like this. No one could. But she didn’t know how to change, how to get better again… “I hate that I’m like this. I’m sorry.”

Steven stepped towards her, cupping her face in both hands. “Sam, sweetheart, you’ve been through something horrible, many horrible things, actually… we just want to be here for you. Can you please tell us what’s going on with Teresa?”

Sam sighed, and Steven let go of her face. “She’s pregnant. She’s known for a while, that’s why she wouldn’t drink at Christmas. She’s 5 months.”

“Jesus, how did she possibly keep that a secret?”

Sam shrugged. “Dad think she’s the golden daughter, and mom is so blissfully unaware of everything…. She said she didn’t tell us sooner because she thought Chris and I would talk her into an abortion, which, like… I might have suggested it, considering Holden, but I’d never try to tell her what she had to do with her body!” Sam began pacing the kitchen area.

“What does Holden think about it?” Steven asked, well aware of Sam’s feeling on her sisters fiance.

Sam gave a dry laugh. “He broke off the engagement.”

“Oh fuck…”

“Yeah” She sighed out. “Chris is on his way, we’re going to Hertfordshire for the weekend to break it to mom and dad. Apparently Ben knows. He’s the one that convinced her to call me and Chris.”

Steven nodded vigorously. “Yeah, yeah of course, I’ll just use some sick days and-”

Sam held out a hand. “Steven no-”

Marc took the body. “You’re not going there alone, Sam”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to be alone, Chris is there to babysit, dad.”

“Oh yeah? Chris know you tried to kill yourself? He know you can’t be left alone without trying to jump off the roof?” Marc, stop, she’s not a child.

“No,” she glared. “And you’re not telling him. He’s got enough to deal with between me and Teresa and the others.”

“Then we’re going with you.”

Sam threw up her hands. “No, Marc, this is a family thing.”

“We’re your family!” Marc all but shouted.

There was a paused.

Sam sighed, calming down. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. But this is a sibling thing. I love you, but I need to go, and things are… well it’s not going to go well. I don’t want you wrapped up in all this.”

Steven was back. “I don’t want you going through all that alone…” Steven pleaded.

“I know, sunshine. But I won’t be. And I’ll call you as much as I can.”

“Oka-” Steven started, but Marc took over mid-sentence. “No, absolutely not.”

Sam returned to a glare. Marc was beginning to get on her last nerve. “You don’t get to chose that Marc, I’m 25, I’m a fucking adult, not your housewife”

Hurt flickered across his face before it set in determination. “Is that what you think this is? Me wanting you to be our housewife? For that to happen you’d have to-” Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence or I swear to god

Sam busted out a short, clipped laugh. “I’d have to do things around the house? Is that what you were going to say? Have sex? Cook?”

“Sam, no-”

“ I’m sorry I don’t exactly have the energy to be a good wifey for you when you have me under suicide watch!” She stormed off towards the couch, needing to get away from him.

“I have you under suicide watch because you tried to kill yourself, Sam! Jesus! You told me last night you still want to die. I could have you put in a psych ward on a 72 hour hold for that!”

Sam picked u a pillow, having the forethought to throw it on the floor in the opposite direction of Marc, not wanting to see him wince. “Then do it! Fucking do it Marc! Then you’ll be fucking free of me!”

Marc’s face crumbled before her. “Is that what you think I want?”

Marc was getting a phone call. When he pulled his phone out of his pocket, Sam saw the beautiful face and big dark curls pop up on the screen. Layla was calling. Layla had called since the attack, Sam telling Marc he could tell her what happened. Layla was the only one Marc could talk to about her and her problems who wasn’t directly involved, like Steven and Jake were. She told him long ago he didn’t have to keep anything from her. Marc deserved a friend to talk to that he trusted. Did it have to be his ex-wife, though?

“Layla, hey, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“No Marc, talk to her, I’m going for a smoke.”

“No, you’re not-”

Sam grabbed the phone out of his hand and put it to her ear, putting on her best overly-cheerful tone. “Layla! Hi! So nice to finally talk to you”

Layla could clearly tell she interrupted something. ‘Oh, hi Sam. I can call back.’

“No no, you’re alright, I need you to distract Marc because he thinks I can’t be alone for 5 minuets or else I’ll kill myself, you called at a great time!”

‘Oh. Okay. Everything alright?’

Sam laughed. “No, actually, it’s nowhere near alright, but such is life! Hey, you know what, we’d love to have you come visit sometime!”

‘Uh, yeah, that’d be great, I’d love to meet-’

“Great! Unfortunately, this weekend won’t do, since my dumbass sister went and got herself knocked up, how about next weekend?”

‘I can come later, we don’t have to-’

Marc tried to steal his phone back, but Sam kept talking. “Layla, listen, women to women, Marc is driving me up the goddamn wall and I need someone else here before Marc wall’s me up in this fucking apartment!’ Sam spoke erratically, trying not to sound harsh as Marc’s face was somewhere between a glare and a pout.

‘Yeah.’ Layla sounded concerned, but soft. ‘Yeah I’ll come’

“Super cool, I’ll try not to go insane in the meantime.” She shoved the phone into Marc’s hand.

“Hi Layla…” He started, still watching Sam intently.

Sam grabbed her cigarettes and jacket and began to step outside. She stopped at the doorway, pausing. With a sigh, she walked back with her head hung to where Marc was standing with the phone. She didn’t look at him, but held out a hand.for the phone again, which Marc hesitantly handed over. “Hi… it’s me again. Hopefully sounding less crazy.”

A small chuckle from the other end. ‘Hi sam’

“Sorry. It’s been a rough…” day? Week? Few months?

‘Yeah, yeah I know’

“I’m sorry for all that. But I would really love to have you here. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while.”

‘I want to meet you too, I’ll come out next weekend.’

“Okay.” Sam sighed. “Sounds good.” She handed the phone back to Marc, still not looking at him, and walked outside.

When the door close, Marc put the phone to his ear. “Sorry about that.”

‘You can’t keep her locked up. You know that right?’

“I know… I just… I need… she’s just…”

‘Marc, honey… When will you learn you can’t protect us from everything at the cost of our own choices?’

Marc closed his eyes. She always knew what to say. “I know.”

‘...I’m excited to see you’

Marc smiled. “I’m excited to see you too.”

When Sam returned, she could tell it was Steven.

“Steven, I’m really sorry…” She looked drained, walking past him to flop on the couch and pull a blanket over herself.

Steven joined her. “I know. I’m sorry Marc said all that. He’s going to take a bit of time, just to allow you some space, but he’s here if you need him.”

Sam nodded, looking at her feet. “Steven, listen… Maybe… maybe this isn’t-”

“Don’t.” Steven’s eyes widened in fear of where that sentence was going. “Don’t do this” he shook his head. “If this is about what Marc said-”

“No, sunshine, it’s not, he’s right-”

“No, he isn’t-”

“You deserve better” She blurted out, echoing her words from that night on the roof.

Steven felt his heart tense up. How could he make her see? How could he make her understand? She was it. She was everything. He shook his head, moving to where she was at the couch and taking her hand. “You said that that night, Marc said there was no better than you, and he’s right. You, darling, are the light of our lives.”

She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. “No, no Steven I’m a disaster, I’m just going to drag you down with me, I don’t” Her voice broke. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to dull your shine. I will break you both apart.”

Steven dove into her, holding her body firm towards him. “No, love, you won’t. We love you, you mean the world to us, please, just… don’t give up yet. On us, on yourself. Me, Marc, Jake, Chris, Jess, Elena, we’re all here for you, we all love you. Just please, don’t give up”

“I won’t, baby. I love you, I love you, I love you…” Sam finally looked at him, his face close to hers, closing the gap between their mouths. She kissed like she was starved for him, like only he could fill that void. Back rested against the arm of the couch and legs on either side of him, she ground her hips up into his, needy for him.

“Darling…” Steven muttered lowly, unsure if this was a good idea.

“We can stop…” She assured him. “I just miss you. Feel like I can never get enough.”

Steven dipped down to kiss her neck, careful not to leave hickies for her visit with family. “Don’t wanna stop.“ he assured, muttering fuck under his breath when he felt her cup him over his pants. When she felt he was hard, she unbuttoned his jeans as his hands explored her, familiarizing himself with every dip and curve. “Fuck, how do you always feel so good”

Wiggling her pants down, Steven moved down her body, licking a stripe up her core as her leg draped over the edge of the couch. Sam gripped his beautiful curls, guiding his face wherever she needed him, arching off the couch as two fingers entered him. “Just like that baby, fuck, just like that pretty boy.”

Steven ate her out like his life depending on it, managing to draw two orgasms out of her, and going for a third when Sam pulled him up, kissing his soaked face. “Steven, need you in me sunshine, need to feel you come inside, fill me up.”

Shit, she was going to be the death of him. He barely had enough time to pull his pants down far enough to free his aching cock, plunging it into her as the moaned in unison.

She kissed him: Forehead, nose, mouth. “Fuck baby, I missed you, I missed this”

Steven thought of the last time they had sex, two weeks ago, how she tried to kill herself hour later. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Not because he would physically stop her, no, she could go see her family alone. He would be there for her, whatever she needed, whenever she needed. “You always feel so good, taking me so well, Sweetheart, my perfect girl”

Sam tried to focus on the drag of his thick cock through her walls, and the taste of his salty skin on her mouth. “You think I’m perfect?”

“Undoubtedly”

When they came, they came together, bodies so perfectly in synch, Steven could imagine a closer connection with someone

The weekend was hard and long. Steven carried Sam’s bags down for her, and said hello to Chris, giving him a look he hoped communicated ‘Watch out for her’.

She was supposed to be back Sunday, but just as he was expecting the phone call she promised him on Saturday night, she came through the door, barreling to him where he was waiting with a strong embrace.

“Didn’t go well, I take it?” Steven asked the obvious.

She shook her head in his chest. “Things were said.”

“Need me to hurt anyone?” Jake.

Sam laughed in his arms. “No, Jake, but thanks.”

“Are you okay?” Marc.

“Hi baby. I’m okay.”

“How is Teresa?”

“She’s moving in with Chris.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Brightside?” Marc asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“It’s not”

“It is. We’re all gonna be okay. Teresa, me, us. I think everything’s going to be okay, Starlight.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Sam stood there for a while, warm and safe in Marc’s strong embrace.

Yeah, everything was going to be okay.

*********************

Comments mean the world, and reblogs are essential for sharing my work! Love y'all @ahookedheroespureheart @kr-mlk @mt2sssss @cherryvalentine1 @tippycakes26 @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @nicepeony @sgt-morgan

Shout out to @cherryvalentine1 for correctly guessing back in the Christmas chapters that yes! Teresa is PREGGO!

I swear to go I’m working on the last two chapters but in the mean time come read Seattle

#steven grant #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant smut #marc spector angst #steven grant angst #jake lockley #marc spector hurt comfort #marc spector oc

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night-market-if · 2 years

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AHHHHH The last chapter, just AHHHHHH, it was expected, but unexpected, I, I just can't.

I think, I dont know if this was an error or purposely, but when you are talking with <3Malcolm<3 and you have the options "I do/I'm sorry/ I could" talking about Milo and if you love him, in "I'm sorry" option, you go to the same page than "I could", again I don't know if you wanted in that way or not, but just in case I told you xD

SPOILEEEERSSSSSS

I'm so hyped for the next chapter, I can already see my MC, someone who really are a "Kuudere stereotype" (more or less he is a "serious and sarcastic type of character who is often cold, blunt, and cynical without showing any signs of emotion". But this is all facade, inside they are very affectionate, at least when it comes to their loved ones) losing his shit with all the things happening and busting in flames and drama because:

"really, I was wandering like a lost puppy all over the market for so long meanwhile people here were busy making necromancy shit, broking spines, buying-selling people as prison system and my f-ing lover/boyfriend whatever we are, (BECAUSE I EVEN DONT KNOW WHAT THE HELL WE ARE) were more worried hiding the secret I almost died for a couple of times and telling shit like "be careful" ohhhh im going to be careful, dear of course im going to, I'm going to be very careful when I catch you cause im going to kill you" and "all the people here are just worrying about keeping their secrets and making shit decisions instead of worrying about the end of the world so f u guys"

The meme of a doggo saying "Im fine" meanwhile siping it's cafe in a house in flames? That is my mc outside, inside is the meme of "gimme yo f-ing money!!" CHAN CHAN LAW & ORDER Special victim unit Being the girl my MC and all the other character and drama the doll.

Can we please choose to lost our shit? I will love my usually calm MC losing his cool and exploding in a flurry of pent up emotions (I love drama)

The worst of all? I know im going to feel so bad about Milo that, surely im going to choose the meaner option only to know the way he will react but then im going to go back and choose the better option for his mental health cause, lets be honest, the poor guy needs not a therapy, but a whole psychological office, poor baby boy.

PS: Malcolm is the sexiest, charmer cutest boy ever and every time he talk my MC simp, a lot. I loved the head?canon about him talking with the lamp lights and now I cant stop thinking about it

Okey, maybe its better for me to stop rambling, thank you so much for all your hard work! Really, you are writing a master piece, I hope you have a beautiful day

That was for sure a bug! I got it all fixed up for the next update. Kicking myself that that one got messed because the "I'm sorry" portion was kind of important for a future romance. But! I guess that's why we have wips. LOL

I like the headcannon MC you got going. That is awesome. And oddly works really well I think for a Milo romance. I think Milo needs someone that can put him in his place occasionally and who is not afraid to call him out on his bullshit. In chapter twelve, it is going to much more be about getting the information he is holding back. There are going to be some moments to get angry with him but there is a lot going on in the last chapter that it won't be the focus. But I promise you, it is going to happen in book 2. There is no way Milo could even be in the game anymore without a confrontation of some sorts. I'll let the reader handle how they would like to see that confrontation but it will be there.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨

Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi 🌿Discord

#the night market #bugs #fixes #end game spoilers

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matt-the-radar-techncian · 1 year

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If people are feeling more sympathetic towards the people who hurt pink/rose, who's supposed to be the victim and the people in question are the diamonds and her abusers, whose fault is it exactly for that whole thinking? The fans and critics for not getting it or not liking actions that happened with rose/pink or the writing of how it went about rose that kind of made her seem even less sympathetic than the diamonds?

Maybe sympathetic is not the right word for the diamonds but then at the same time people give me the impression that what blue was "right". Feel like I am seriously not understanding something I do kind of feel like the backstory being told backwards probably didn't do wonders but I'm just still wondering how are they more sympathetic then pink when they are heavily part of the reason why she left them?

I think at a certain point it’s just people misinterpreting it. Sure the show could’ve had more episodes about Rose’s and the Diamonds’ past but that only accounts for so much. The story is complete and all the information is there about Rose and the Diamonds. People thinking “the Diamonds are more sympathetic than Rose” seem like they’re either forgetting major parts of the plot or are just angry at the show for not going the way they wanted it to

It probably also comes from an inability to accept that the creators of your favorite media aren’t omnipotent, and that they’re subject to outside forces. It’s a lot harder to admit “the shows I love are made based around business deals that are sometimes unfair and that hurt the artistic merit of the final product” than the kneejerk “Rebecca Sugar wrote a terrible ending because she’s stupid and evil”

I feel like it also ties into some of these people’s politics somewhat. I’d be willing to bet that a lot of the people saying that the show’s ending was bad because the Diamonds didn’t face enough consequences are also the type of person to view real life politics that way too. The type of people who think “if we can just get kill all the bad people (billionaires, racists, pedophiles, etc.), the world will be perfect!” The people who think that it’s not enough that people stop doing bad and start doing good, but that they must suffer also. These types of people usually have good intentions (ending inequality, racism, pedophilia, etc.) but if you let that desire for revenge against society taint the way you watch media, it’s gonna lead to you unironically saying shit like “Steven Universe is nazi propaganda”

Bringing this back to SU, this reminds me of when I recently saw a piece of fanart from “Gem Harvest” (from back when the episode first came out in 2016) and it was tagged something like “the theme of the episode was wack, they introduce a bigoted character and the moral is to FORGIVE HIM???!?” Yes, that is the moral. Making human connections will always be better for your mental health (and more helpful in actually stopping people from being hateful and bitter) than any amount of vitriol or righteous anger

It seems Steven Universe is simply cursed with fans who are forever unwilling or unable to accept its basic tenets of forgiveness and self-love

#steven universe is nazi propaganda #steven universe #su #rose quartz #diamonds

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brattyprettysub2 · 2 years

Text

Moan for me

Trigger warning: depression. This is a story that talks about depression in a kind of fucked-up way because I wanted to find a way into writing about my own depression, but it's cruel. It isn't positive and it isn't kind and it's probably not the most helpful message to read about mental health. Please take care of yourselves <3

All characters in this piece of fiction are role-playing adults.

She's a terrible fuck when she's depressed.

He tries his best to take care of her. He sets glasses of water in front of her so she'll drink them. He reminds her to take her meds on days she doesn't want to. He makes dinner and puts on all those stupid rom-coms that she loves and cuddles her while she watches them.

She's his girl, his property, and he's going to take care of her. He can't fix anything, but he can help. Sometimes, when he thinks she can take it, he reminds her that when she doesn't take care of herself, she's damaging his property and she knows better than to do that.

But none of help and affection and understanding changes the fact: she's a terrible fuck when she's depressed.

Her libido goes out the window and she never initiates anything. If he reaches for her in the night, she tenses and wriggles away from him.

At first, he put up with it. He tried to be patient and understanding.

It didn't help.

So now there are rules.

"Moan for me," he says now. He has her face-down on the bed, her legs spread wide with him lying between them. His cock is buried deep in her pussy and he's thrusting in and out of her. She was dry when he first tried to enter her, but a generous application of lube took care of that problem. "Moan for me, cunt, and make it sound real."

Her first attempt is pathetic. It sounds more like a sob than anything resembling pleasure, and he smacks her hard on the outside of her thigh, not breaking his rhythm.

"Try again," he says. She moves her head and he can see that the pillow under her face is wet with tears. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you? Your bone-dry cunt has already taken care of that."

Another sob, but she opens her mouth and tries to moan. It's small and breathy, but better than her previous attempt. He doesn't smack her. He thrusts harder and says, "Again."

The third try is even better. This time, she actually sounds like she means it, and she doesn't need to be told to keep going. Her moans match the rhythm of his thrusting. He's owned his girl well enough to know that these moans, no matter how well performed, are fake. They're nothing like the raw, desperate sounds she makes when she really, truly wants him, when she needs him to fuck her and fill her with his come. They're stilted, too clean, too tidy, almost robotic in how rote they are.

Still. She's a delicate thing right now, so he'll let it slide. This time.

"Listen to you," he says. "I could almost believe you're enjoying yourself." He pulls his cock out of her. It's wet with lube and he strokes it a few times, then holds her ass open and smacks his cock against her asshole. "You sound like you want me to fuck your ass."

She goes very, very still.

"Master." Her voice breaks. It's astonishing how quickly the fake arousal falls away, replaced by the broken girl who's been drifting around his house for the last week. "Master."

He waits for her to say more, but she doesn't. She shakes her head and presses her face into the pillow. He's had her in a puddle at his feet, his come on her face, her skin broken from his whip and his teeth, and he's still never seen her as broken as she is now.

She's told him before that being depressed doesn't feel like sadness. "I'm not sad," she said. "I'm empty. I'd be sad if I could, because that would at least be something, but I'm just so empty. I'm like this hollow, husk of a person, and all I can do is wait for each day to end. Like, that's all I want. I wake up and I wait for the day to be over. I'm just so empty."

He can see it now, in the lines of her body. She's nothing like his vivacious, bright, quick-witted girl. He can see her berating herself, telling herself not to disappoint him, that she's a failure, a disappointment, that he deserves better.

He probably does, if he's honest.

He holds back a sigh. God, she's a terrible fuck when she's caught up in her head.

He presses the head of his cock against her asshole. Maybe, if she feels so empty, he can fill her up.

---

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jackinalex · 2 years

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Hi I am once again adding more to my analysis because I recently got tech that lets me listen to my free digital version I got with the vinyl so. Long ask ahead, with possibly repeated points from the other asks.

Some Kind of Disaster: This one can be taken neutrally for either Jalex or Lisex. "It's all my fault that I'm still the one you want" implies a sense of self-loathing, and in the case of Jalex, a feeling that he possibly encouraged it, and his feelings for Jack are ruining his marriage (whether that's good or bad), or even the opposite way 'round. Now, as for the first verse ("I woke up" to "moment in-between", specifically), it is incredibly relatable for young queer people, especially when he would've been 17. The relatable part being that once you figure yourself out, you feel as if you've woken up, and lost a lot of time in your life. As for the second verse ("I crashed" to "learn to deal"), it can be very overwhelming to figure out you're queer. It's also possible the song is referring to depression, which can make finally feeling (after therapy, meds, etc etc) very poignant. Not to mention, a disproportionate amount of queer people are depressed, even from a young age. It seems overall, that this song is speaking about how the past is currently affecting his future/present.

Sleeping In: Very much a fun song, and is very neutral. I don't have much to analyze here, except that it could be very much about spending time with Jack, considering it's more likely that being on tour can cause the feelings of waking up on a Friday night, when it's really Tuesday. While Lisa has a more traditional job comparatively, so it's less likely it's about her.

Getaway Green: The first half of this album is very upbeat, and definitely reflects a positive relationship with someone. This song, specifically, tends to refer to it in the past, which in reference to Jalex could imply that they were sort of an experimentation of their youth. I doubt it references Lisex at all, as it seems to refer to the sort of hookup culture that we know the guys were heavily involved with when they were younger. If it does, then he is heavily downplaying their marriage, which is of course a bad sign for the marriage.

Melancholy Kaleidoscope: This piece falls away from referencing relationships to being about mental health, a general tradition for the band. The farther I get through this album, the more I realize that the early part of the album doesn't have that much tea (and is far too many consecutive major keys for me, personally). 10/10 mental health song, 0/10 jalex/lisex song.

Trouble Is: My favorite song. I remember talking about this, but I have a better analysis here. So, I mentioned the "1231231212" causing an instability that seems to reflect the relationship described in the song. After being married, I can see how it's possible that the bridge and chorus refer to Lisa, with him not wanting to let go of something stable, but also not wanting to give up everything outside of her. He says that all that he wanted was just to let go of her (paraphrased), and it makes me wonder how long this divorce has been coming. Also thank you to this song for giving me a Fanfic idea.

Chemistry: I know this is a B-side of LYR but I think it's a really good song and it deserves a mention. I took a break to listen to it.

Wake Up, Sunshine: More a mental health song, though I think it could be about someone having told Alex something similar and that helped him feel better? I have no idea how this could relate to a divorce, other than possibly as a platitude if he felt shitty about the divorce itself.

Monsters: Finally, we get into the juicy bits! Even just with the entrance of the chorus and first verse, it appears that whoever is the protagonist (whether it's Alex or Jack), there is clearly a toxic relationship, and the character is in the middle of it. They're unable to leave (note: Trouble Is), and feel as if they're addicted to it, even if it's toxic and no longer working. But the fact that it's there is far easier than admitting it doesn't work anymore. In reference to the hangover mentioned at the beginning, it could be something about Jack that we don't know (as his drinking is more public), but it's very possible that Alex drinks himself silly privately, for all we know. And that would be very much a sign of a bad relationship (presumably with Lisa). It might be a stretch but still. I don't think necessarily have a super toxic relationship the way the song implies, but it seems to be more general, possibly so people stop correlating certain songs with certain people. That isn't bad, but maybe he wants a little privacy idk.

Pretty Venom: A very gorgeous song that seems to reference the inherent mental health issues associated with toxic relationships. "Getting high on our history" reminds me of how a relationship that ends in marriage and later a divorce could lead someone to look back on the healthy, happy years, and wonder where they went. It's possibly it was written after an argument, even, and seems to continue the thought of having a depressive episode or return after something as major as a divorce.

Favorite Place: I think I mentioned this, but long story short, Jack is his safe place, and I think that's the point of love. Love is meant to be a safe place, in a specific person. It's the beautiful beginnings, loving middles, and tragic ends of so many stories.

Safe: I think I also mentioned this, this is also about finding a safe place in someone. It's really Favorite Place Part 2, which I love. Maybe it's from different parts of the same poem?

January Gloom: This song seems to continue the story about the divorce, and how he picked himself up from the shitty feeling of a divorce and was able to feel more stable, possibly involving Jack.

I am going to stop here because I'm tired but :D I like doing this a bit too much, I think.

-sja

I know there’s a lot of people who love lyric interpretations, so I’m sure they’ll be grateful. I love the Pretty Venom one. I think it’s definitely when the cracks were starting to splinter off in lisex.

#kalina answers #lyric interpretation #snowy jalex anon

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xtrablak674 · 6 months

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Is it Wrong I'm Still Mad About These Lost Clothes?

Back in '09 when I reconnected if that is the appropriate word with my now late brother I donated pieces from my wardrobe to him. In addition to kitchenware, some art and a few books. Some of my Sean John baggy premium denim pants, some shirts including this I think Tommy Hilfiger orange button-down. These were pieces I hadn't worn in a long time, a lot of them being purchased when I was significantly heavier, all in excellent condition and well-cared for.

Its the thoughtlessness that got to me, first when his wife and him got evicted from the apartment that I had 'Trading Spaces' for them transforming it into a nice comfortable nook. All the furniture, artwork, clothes and mostly the tangerine gumdrop iMac I had loaned them were forfeited with their eviction. As I later told him, I am sure you knew the eviction was coming, even if you were embarrassed you could have told me to come and get the computer back. Sadly, this thought had never even entered his head.

I was excited about the opportunity to attempt to have a better sibling relationship, but it seemed I was foiled before I even began, he was so ingrained with false-images of who is dad's people were. He had a tendency after this apartment to be on and off homeless, sometimes spending time crashing at his mom's place with his kids.

His mom was the person who encouraged his own paranoia, distrust and dependent behavior, she never wanted him to be a self-sufficient adult, but a dependent subservient who she could easily manipulate as she saw fit. She told her grandkids they would be with her until they were forty, her eldest daughter hadn't left the paternal home until she was forty-five so this foretelling of the future would probably come to be.

Intellectually I understand when you give someone something its no longer your concern what happens to the given item. But the thing that gets to me is the lack of care given to the items. I still have some clothes I haven't worn in years, but are still in great condition ready to be worn. It just upsets me that he couldn't give the same care and attention to these clothes.

The thing I have to remember is his living situation was comparable to his mental health, he was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder something I think he shared with his mother, albeit hers had remained unofficially diagnosed and thus untreated. I can recall being on the phone with him for hours during one of his manic phases, and even though he told me he took his medication, it was clear he didn't.

There is a lot of disappointment for me in our relationship, we never fully connected in a way that I wanted and it seemed that I was always the one who was trying to encourage shared activities between us. His mom orchestrated our estrangement and aloofness, her own mental health making her paranoid of any relationships directly outside of her purview.

Albeit I initiated the next and final estrangement with his abandoning his post of grandson as I dealt with our grandmothers declining mental acuity alone. You would have thought he had the good sense to make me aware of his own declining health due to his extensive smoking. But like most things with him, that didn't happen either. His eldest daughter reached out to me to let me know of his passing.

I guess I should let go of these lost clothes, and the fact that like our long dead father I will never have the relationship with him that I wanted. But its hard when most of your familial relationships have either ended in estrangement or death, you crave connection with folks from your point of origin as a validation of your identity and a connection to something larger than yourself. In my own experience these attempts ultimately end up in neglect, unresolved issues/feelings and finally failure. This is why I don't even try anymore, it makes more sense focusing on my personal happiness than trying to connect with folks who seem to have little to no interest in connecting with you.

[Photo by Brown Estate]

#mental health #bipolar disorder #manic depression #manic episodes #brothers #siblings #family struggles #broken relationships #estrangement #disappointment #death #family relationships #journal entry #sad #hopelessness

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declanfs · 11 months

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November 1, 2023

Hard to believe its November! Where has this year gone?! I haven’t typed a bunch in a while because we are always so busy doing all of the things, but I made myself this velcro chore chart thing for extra accountability, and I am a stickler for streaks and crossing things off my list, so here I am! (A Tumblr post is on my weekly list)

This might be too much to share with you because its mental health related and it might shatter the fourth wall or whatever because I’m a parent and an adult and I’m supposed to have everything figured out, but lately I am having lots of fear around not being here to watch you grow up. I have no reason to really have these thoughts because I’m as fit as a fiddle, but I guess because I’ve had some people get sick and/or pass away in my circle of friends and family. But I guess my biggest fear of all surrounding these thought processes is that you will have to grow up without me and not know how much I love you and how much I cherish our days and nights together. You are a ton of work, there is no downplaying that fact, but you have brought about the most meaningful and life changing work of my whole life. Some days are really hard, but a lot of days are so great and filled with little magics and I feel like I am so good at being your mom. So the purpose of this little paragraph is just to let you know that if something ever happens and I am not here, I hope you can read this and know that if it was matter of fighting and trying to stick around for you, I would move the heavens and earth and mountains and stars to be here for you as long as I can. To be here if you need my help, or to listen to your stories, to share in your joy, or to just be your biggest fan and cheerleader from the closest you’ll let me sit in the stands. I tell you every day that I love you forever and always, no matter what, but I just wanted it here in writing in case you forget and need this reminder.

I love how you curl into me and say ‘I love you mama’ 5-15 times right before you fall asleep. I will pick you uppy as long as I can, even though you are getting quite tall (39”) and growing stronger and bigger everyday (31.5lb). I will never say no if you ask me to read to you, and Dada or I will sleep with you until you decide that you are ready to sleep alone. I didn’t know it at the time, but YOU and this exact brand of motherhood is exactly what I signed up for and better than I could have dreamed.

Yesterday was Halloween and you did not really want to go. You definitely did not want to wear your costume at all. You were crying as I helped you get dressed and said you wanted to stay home and watch Paw Patrol, and I told you that I hoped you could trust me and give it a chance and if we got out there and you still didn’t like it, we could take your costume off and come back home. Once we got outside and you saw that dada was coming too, you seemed happier, and then you were happier still when we got to Jace’s house and you saw him and Cami and Paula. You probably would have been content to just run through the leaves and stay in their yard until it got dark, but I asked you to trust me again and give trick or treating a chance.

It took you a few houses to warmup, meaning dada had to carry you up to the front door and hold out your bucket for you, but then you saw Jace and cami running around and after that I had to chase you up and down the streets. It got dark pretty quickly and our neighborhood is not well lit so it was a bit scary to think about losing sight of you! You got 68 pieces of candy (not counting whatever you and dada ate before we got home), and you even said trick or treat and thank you as you went up to people. It was fun to watch and your little “thank you” is super cute and sweet.

We got home around 7:45 and I don’t think you fell asleep until close to 9 because we stayed up to look through your candy and eat some and so I could make that reel to commemorate the day. You slept hard but woke up a few times in the night telling me that I messed up your trees. I asked you about it in the morning and you were talking about the farm toy rotation and said I took your trees and put them on the couch or something? I’m not sure, but its so funny when you talk in your sleep.

Today we just had an easygoing day at home. For the past few weeks you haven’t wanted to leave the house as readily as usual. I’m hoping its just a phase, but I also recognize that you need days to just chill and play at home so I can’t and don’t want to have things planned every day of the week.

A normal day:

6:30 wake up to the birds on your hatch sound machine. Sometimes you just want to lay up there and snuggle and “hide.” Some days you bolt upright at the first bird sound and you say “it’s morning, time to wake up”

Sometimes you go to the gym and play on your climbing gym while dada and I do our workouts, but some days dada has already done his workout and you and he play while I do my workout. He chases you, or hides with you, reads books, builds magnatiles, whatever your little heart desires. You’ll have a smoothie or are starving and eat 3 pancakes or French toast sticks or eggs.

8:30ish I have my breakfast. Sometimes you join me, but sometimes you are already done eating and just wander around while I eat.

We play inside or I convince you to go to the library or the park or the gymnastics gym or Pop and Deedees or more recently the AmFam pool area

11:30/12:00ish is lunch.

After that is done, sometimes 20 min, sometimes an hour and a half, we make our way upstairs to nap. For a while you really wanted to sleep in your teepee and that was not super comfortable for me or dada, but we would do it for you.

You’ll nap for 90 min or 2 hours. I have been sneaking out lately to work on programming or other random house projects that a bit easier to do when you are asleep.

Lately, you wake up still tired I think, so you are pretty sad and needs lots of hugs and love for 20-30 min after you wake up. Sometimes we read books in your room or watch videos on my phone, sometimes we hide in your downstairs fort, sometimes I can distract you with something or take you outside right away and then you are content to play.

6:00 dinner

6:45 bedtime vitamin and bath or shower, then books. The past few nights you have wanted to read Our Birth Story book that titi Nelly made for us, which has been very special and sweet to look through with you. It’s fun to hear what stories you are learning go with each picture and how you were growing in my belly and dada and pa buried your willow tree and how we didn’t have any toys in the backyard because we were waiting to see what kind of toys you would like.

Tonight was a tough one because the lights went off at 7:30 but you didn’t fall asleep until 8:20. You tossed and turned and were cold then hot and you didn’t like the blanket and your feet were too hot. You said “I love you mama” about 9 times and after you flopped around for the 10th time, I asked if you wanted me to sing you some songs and you said yes. This is my magic trick. I’m not sure why it works, but you ask me to sing the little blue truck song, which is me singing the words to Little Blue Truck Leads the Way (I have it memorized because we read that book every night for like 2 months straight), and it takes about 3 minutes. Usually by the end of that, you will be asleep. But tonight it took a few extra songs: Row your boat, twinkle twinkle, head shoulders knees and toes, and finally you are my sunshine. It feels so good to be able to do this for you. It feels so good that my arms and my voice and heartbeat are the things that help you feel safe and comfortable enough to fall asleep. I know you and dada have your own things for bedtimes and wakeups, but this is how it always works for us. Sometimes you fall asleep in 10 minutes, and sometimes it takes over an hour. Usually its closer to 30 minutes.

So anyway, this post was a bit unusual and next time I’ll share more about the funny things you do and say, but this needed to be said. I love you forever and always, no matter what. There’s no problem so big that we can’t solve it together.

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mellowpiepizzalamp · 2 years

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First time

Summary: You and Bucky have your first time together after Tony’s birthday party.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, my rubbish writing (it’s a warning), more fluff, smut, fluffy smut, bucky being an absolute simp and angel.

Word count: ~2700 words

Walking down the stairs step by step into the giant ballroom rented by and for Tony for his birthday. All the staff was invited and the usual people that came to a birthday. (Almost) everyone had a date and Bucky had asked you to come.

Tony told you to wear the most beautiful dress you had because; 1. It was his birthday and 2. He said you needed to impress Bucky. You and Bucky were already dating for

A little over a year and Tony knew that but always made that kind of comment. You and Bucky still hadn’t sex and only shared passionate kisses every once in a while. It was okay by the both of you but lately, things got more passionate.

People were amazed at the fact that you were living together too. You hadn’t done it yet because you were still focusing on Bucky’s repair of his mental health, it kept getting better and he felt like his old self again.

You were so proud of how he was doing and told him that every chance you got. You sought Bucky in the crowd and locked eyes with his steel blues in the middle of the room.

Tony, who was at the microphone announcing the activities, broke off mid-sentence to turn everyone’s attention to you. He might be one of your best friends, but sometimes you really hated him.

“Y/n don’t stress ‘em, keep looking at that piece of eye candy you managed to conquer,” he said and the crowd laughed.

“I was planning on it,” you whispered more to yourself than to anyone else. As you reached the bottom of the stairs where Natasha bid her arm as support due to the last being higher. You let go of her arm and thanked her silently and continues to walk towards Bucky.

All the dates made their entrance like that, but now Tony made more comments than ever. You and Tony had a long history, going back to when you were close to death and he saved you, leading you to join the avengers when they discovered you were an empath.

It’s how you met Bucky and started dating within a few years of knowing each other. Now, a year later, you’re walking toward him and still got butterflies. This night was perfect already as you kissed him softly and waited for the music to start as the last date came down the stairs, a man in a suit with the trousers replaced for a skirt of the same material.

You two danced the night away before and after dinner.

“Bucky, after this song I really need to go to the bathroom,” you said softly. He nodded and when the song finished he didn’t let go of your hand and walked with you to the lady’s room. He patiently waited outside and held a few men wanting to go in out of it, knowing their intentions and knowing they weren’t good. Once you finished and walked out you took his arm with a smile and walked over to tony.

“Y/N! Bucky!” Tony drunkenly said and skipped over to you.

“Hey! Are you okay?” you asked as he smiled the smile he had when he was drunk.

“Yeah, yeah, we wanna go to McDonald’s but Pepper says we can’t,” he grumbled like a baby.

“Why not?” you asked and looked for Pepper and found her in two seconds standing next to him.

“He can’t just leave his own birthday party,” she said.

“No one’s talking to me who isn’t going with us,” he argued.

“What if you announce it?” you suggested and Tony agreed.

“Fine, but I’ll do it, you’re too drunk.” Pepper walked away to the stage before grabbing everyone’s attention and said they were heading out, but everyone could stay as long as they want.

The group (Steve and Bruce without dates as they didn’t have one in the first place, Thor and Clint with dates they picked up at the ball, Nat going with Wanda, Tony with Pepper and Bucky with you along with a few others who decided they were still hungry.)

Steve and Thor weren’t familiar enough with the computers to order so they went to the checkout. Bucky was really hungry but didn’t want to be the only one with a lot of food, but when he saw the receipts and the time it took to order for the two blondes he didn’t mind anymore.

“Y/n, I don’t know how this works,” he whispered in your ear. He noticed a few men in the kitchen looking at you and he wrapped an arm around you protectively.

“Bucky, I don’t want them, I want you, and I need to know what you want to eat,” you said without looking away from the screen.

“What you’re having, I don’t know anything from the menu,” he said and kept glaring at the men that were ogling you.

“No, I can feel that you’re hungry and stop looking at them Bucky, I am in love with you, not them. So, turn your attention to me,” you said and grabbed his chin, knowing he didn’t listen.

“What?” he asked.

“Give me a gentle kiss, please,” you told him more than asked. He leaned down and gave you a passionate kiss, but it still being light. you pulled back and rested your forehead against his.

“I only want you, please remember that. Now, what do you want to eat?” you asked again. You helped him through the menu and he ordered what he wanted as you put in your usual order, chicken nuggets, fries and a milkshake.

Once you paid for your order you joined the others at the higher table in the restaurant. The table was small for the big group and people were sitting on each other’s lap. There was only one stool left and the first thing Bucky did was sit down and pull you in his lap. Bucky joined the conversation between Sam and Steve as you started talking with Pepper and Wanda. Pepper sitting in Tony’s lap and Wanda in Natasha’s.

As your food arrived, Bucky had you wrapped in his arms. As you were leaning over to talk to Wanda and Pepper, you unknowingly ground your bum against Bucky. You only noticed when he grabbed your thigh and now continued a little on purpose.

You could feel him growing against you, revelling in the feeling. You all eventually finished eating, people started to go home, including you and Bucky. He kept you in front of him to hide his situation.

“Did you have a good time?” you asked as you got in the car and tried to find a good radio station.

“Absolutely, you looked wonderful tonight by the way,” he said and headed to the highway. Just as he said that Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton started playing.

“What a coincidence. I love this song,” you said and turned up the volume. As your hand pulled away from the volume button his hand caught yours and he brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You returned the gesture and he placed his hand on your thigh.

One you arrived at your shared house you walked in and threw your keys on the table and walked toward the bedroom, his hand in yours as you led him. J.A.R.V.I.S. turned on the cozy lights.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. can you put on some slow music and leave this room tonight?” You asked.

“Yes, of course Madam,” his voice sounded through the room and a little ding indicated he was gone.

“I had a splendid time tonight James,” you said with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Me too,” he smiled and put his hands on your hips. You reached up and kissed him. It was slow and passionate but also very gentle.

“I’m ready,” he whispered as he let go for a second.

“I know you haven’t done anything more than kiss me or tease me a bit, but I’m ready. I’m doing fine now and you have nothing to worry about,” he said and kissed you again.

“I’m ready too,” you whispered and smiled at him.

“Can I take the jacket off?” He asked and when you nodded he slid his jacket he’d gives to you off of your shoulders. He laid it on the bed bench as you let you hair free from its position. Bucky kissed you again with a smile as he looked at you. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispered.

“And yours only,” you whispered back.

“Can I-“ You broke him off gently.

“You can do anything, if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you,” you smiled.

“As long as you tell me, I’ll stop immediately,” he said with a smile. He kissed down your neck and collarbone and slipped off the band of your dress. He went back to your lips and did the same with the other strap.

He returned to your lips once again, but pulled you closer by wrapping his arms around your back so his hands could pull down the zipper. The dress fell down and you stepped out of it, Bucky picked it up while keeping eye contact and laid it over the jacket. He grabbed your arms and held them in his wide front your body so he could admire all that he could see.

“You’re stunning,” he said. You smiled and pulled him in softly by his tie and loosened it during the kiss. You took it off and started on the buttons, struggling with a few, him helping as he laughed softly. When all the buttons were loose and your eyes went wide at the body that was revealed you slid the fabric off him.

“Wow,” you gasped. You weren’t thinking about how fit he was and how you were the opposite. You weren’t thinking ‘what if he doesn’t like my extra fat?’ Because you knew he loved you as you were deep down. Bucky covered his face to hide his blush and you were quick to pull them away.

“None of that, come here with that beautiful face,” you smiled and peppered his face in kisses. He laughed softly and lifted you with ease and walked over to the bed and laid you down.

“You’re wearing too much, take that off,” you demanded playfully and he slid his trousers off and put it on the bench too. You were laying diagonally on the bed as it was the only way you both fit with all head and toe on the mattress. You made out for a long time, hands exploring each other.

“Y/n, I love you,” Bucky whispered.

“I love you too,” you smiled and attached your lips again. Bucky kissed doen your chest, following the line of your bra and reached behind you to take it off, failing to get the hooks unhooked.

“Let me help,” you laughed and detached it. He peeled it off you and threw it aside, immediately starting to kiss and suck your nipple. You let out a breathy moan as his other hand toyed with your other hardening nipple. After he’d given your other nipple the same treatment, he moved down your body, leaving a trail of kisses over all your insecurities.

Slowly, he removed your panties after admiring how the fabric covered your skin. He kissed along your thigh, lower stomach, and everywhere except where you longed for him. You were already shivering from his light touch, but you needed more. You parted your legs for him, an invitation four him to come closer, which he gladly did. He attached his lips to your clit and sucked lightly, making you make sounds that were music to his ears.

He parted his lips more and sucked harder, rubbing that that was in his mouth with his tongue heavenly. His hands rose up your body to your breasts as he fondled with them until you shattered. Calling his name like a prayer. He carried you through your orgasm until you stopped him and sat up.

“Take this off love?” You asked and he obeyed. You pushed him to lean back on his hands as you sat in his lap, both now fully undressed.

“You’re the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen,” you whispered. He looked up at you, lost for words and only love in his eyes. You kissed his lips, down his neck and to the skin where it fused with the vibranium. The rough scars were still there but a lot less red than they used to be.

You averted your attention towards his abs and eventually to his dick. You stroked along the length, which had surprised you when you first saw it, and you were still stressing about how it’s supposed to fit. When your thumb went over his tip, Bucky let out a whiny moan.

“You okay?” He asked softly between heavy pants.

“Yeah, dunno how it’ll fit though,” you smiled.

“It doesn’t have to go all in,” ge smiled and kissed the top of your head as ge dat up.

“Do you mind if we use some lube? Not that I’m not turned on or anything, I just don’t want it to hurt,” you said softly and he nodded.

“No problem, do we have any though?” You reach behind you for your nightstand and in the back of the drawer was a little tube of lube. You squirted a small amount on your hand and spread it over his cock, leaving him panting again as you rose your hips and lined him up with your entrance.

You had already discussed with him why you wouldn’t be needing condoms and would only use them if he really wanted to. You got checked before youo started dating him and hadn’t done it with someone else since, and you were on the pill long before you began dating him.

You slowly lowered your hips and he guided your hips and kissed you to ease any discomfort. When you were all the way down, you stayed like that for a while, just going back to kissing him and roaming his body.

You were amazed by the voluptuous abs on the beautiful man under you. You traced the muscle slightly with your fingers while starting to slowly rotate your hips. He wrapped you up in his arms, holding you like you were the most fragile thing in earth.

The kiss wasn’t a kiss anymore as it was more a mess of open mouths and breathy moans. He was already nearing his climax when you were just starting to build yours. He laid you on your back and started to thrust slowly in and out of you while showering you in compliments.

One hand traced from your chin past the valley of your breasts and down your stomach to eventually rub your clit. You sighed out in pleasure as the speed of his fingers increased.

He kept slowing his pace when he felt you clench around him, for him being a signal you were close. This continued for a long time until you both were so close every time he tried ti slow it wouldn’t help anymore.

“I’m close,” you whispered.

“Me too,” he whispered back. His lips went to your breadths and sucked your nipple and increased speed again.

You moaned his name again and again until you climaxed again. Since his mission of letting you cum first was succeded, he let go too. Your hands in his hair scratched his scalp so good than it was easy to let go. When he came to a stop, you smiled at him with an after sex haze your eyes.

“You’re divine,” you said.

“You too,” he said and lifted you off the bed.

“Where are you taking me,” you laughed.

“I’ve got to clean you up,” he laughed and put you on the bathroom countertop.

“Oeh cold,” you said when you made contact with the marble. Bucky pulled out and cleaned up with some tissues and got a pair of underwear on you after washing you lightly with a washcloth. After he rinsed the cloth you took it and cleaned him too.

He laid you down on the bed and joined you, laying his head between your breasts, calming him down and lulling him to sleep. You soon after followed, not before whispering to him how much you love him.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x f!reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x lucie #marvel #mcu

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

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♡ prompt: "Do you want me to hurt him?" / inspired by 'telephone' by lady gaga

♡ pairing: bart allen ( impulse ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / my schedule is going to become more sporadic starting next week :/ i'm going to keep the warning up until next week.

"Bart, shut up," you said, jokingly pushing him. he laughed, handing you the ice cream, "what? I'm serious! I just think that mint chocolate is better. if you have just mint, it'll taste like toothpaste and if you have just chocolate, it's too sweet so mint chocolate is a good even ground," he explained.

you felt your phone vibrate as Jinny spoke up, talking about how Bart and Connor shared one brain cell outside of the field. looking down to see who was ringing you, you saw that it was your god forsaken boyfriend for the 100th time.

"oooo, who is that?" Bart asked, looking over to your phone. he read the wall of text you had received but you quickly shut your phone off, not bothering to read it, "you gonna answer that?" he asked, a small bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him.

"don't really feel like it," you quickly said, trying to remain off that topic. Bart, clearly annoyed, snatched your phone and put it in his pocket, "than let's forget about him, right?" he asked, putting on his annoyed fake smile.

Tim and Jinny saw the very irritated face Bart had and looked to each other as they shook their heads, "those two I swear," Jinny huffed out in annoyance. "more like ( your name )," he replied, "Bart could admit his feelings to her face and she still wouldn't do anything about that horrid boyfriend of hers."

the two of them stifled giggles from each other as they watched the two of you continue to flirt openly. it was no secret to anyone on the team. it was very clear to everyone on the YJ team, the Titans, even the JLA knew that the two of you liked each other....a lot but it was that stupid boyfriend of yours that got in the way of Bart ever truly expressing his feelings for you.

"what is everyone's plans after this?" you asked the team as they all murmured different answers, indicating that they were all busy. you sighed, trying not go straight up at the moment because you knew that you'd have to deal with your boyfriends calls when you got there, "I'll stay out with ya!" Bart replied as he saw the empty park bench.

you gave him a grin, "thanks Allen. you're a life saver," you exclaimed, waving everyone off goodbye. you walked to the bench, Bart following right behind you as Bart felt your phone ringing again.

there had been a scarce few times where you did call Bart with your boyfriend problems. it was usually late at night. probably inching near three in the morning when you called him sobbing, asking him if you deserved to go through the bullshit you were dealing with your boyfriend.

Bart always felt himself getting angry whenever he received those calls. you sounded so heartbroken, tired, and emotional. he was always there to help pick you back up but not even a few days later, you were back with him, telling Bart that your boyfriend needed you now more than ever.

"he's still angry that you're hanging out with me? do you want me to hurt him?" he asked, finally taking your phone out of your pocket. you nodded, rolling your eyes, "Bart no. he thinks that my 'job' is taking too much time away from him and I being together. I swear, it's like hearing a broken record. one minute, he's mad and wants to break up and the next second, he's at my door asking for forgiveness," you explained, frustrated.

Bart squeezed your hand, tapping his fingers on top yours, "you know what you need to do," he replied, giving you a serious look. you stared at him, biting your lip, "it's hard, Bart. he's going through a lot and I'll feel guilty if I just leave him," you whispered taking his hand and holding it.

"you literally fight villains for a living and you're scared of that? you know you deserve more," Bart said, "and I've seen the way you look at other girls who decide to flirt with me," he joked, trying to break the tension. "shut up, it's not even like that," you lied, making Bart even laugh more. "but seriously, you know it's not secret that I like you." you sighed, not knowing what to say as you put your head on his shoulder.

the silence wasn't exactly awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. there had been multiple times when Bart had told you his true feelings for you and every time he did, you responded with a hum or a 'okay Bart'.

it wasn't that you didn't accept his true feelings. it was far from that. you actually did like the speedster but you knew Bart could do a lot better. you knew Bart deserved someone who actually deserved him and that person wasn't you. you weren't as cute or funny as he was. he deserved someone like Cassie. smart, funny, and cute.

the YJ tower was completely empty aside from you and Bart. everyone was out doing their own thing. Tim and Connor were at their respective homes. Jinny and Amethyst were out doing god knows what meanwhile Keli and Cassie had gone to the movies to watch a film they both had been dying to see so that just left you and Bart in the lair to do as you pleased.

"Bart, hand me the remote," you said lazily. he handed it to you as you turned it off, getting up and stretching yourself out. Bart stared at you confused, "why'd you turn it off? I was watching that!" he exclaimed. you threw the remote across the couch and getting him up, "lets do something productive and make dinner or something," you replied enthusiastically.

Bart rolled his eyes but got up nonetheless. he followed you to the kitchen as you played music through the speakers that were built on the wall. "what're you making?" he asked, seeing you take out things that made no sense.

you looked over your options and realized you could make some kind of stew or a soup of some kind. "beef and gravy stew! we have enough things to make enough for the team and seconds for the both of us," you said, getting the things from the cupboards and having Bart start to chop every thing up.

you knew Bart was dumb but that didn't mean he wasn't a kick ass cook. there had been multiple times where he had made everyone dinner or dinner even for the two of you and it always turned out amazing. you dumped every thing that Bart had chopped up and proud it into the pot before grabbing a few things from the fridge and making the gravy that had to poured in. it didn't take long but the two of you had to wait until the pot boiled up in order for it to be ready.

the song 'telepatia' by Kali Uchis played over the speakers as you finally turned over to Bart and smiled, "we just need for it to boil and it'll be ready!" you exclaimed. he nodded as you started singing the song out loud. not particularly towards him but a warm feeling in his gut made him get butterflies as you continued.

"you know I'm just a flight away, if you want it, you can take a private plane."

you looked up to Bart, wanting to give him another smile but he quickly got rid of any questioning thoughts and went in for a kiss. you were taken back in surprise. this was the first time Bart had ever put his feelings forward and actually gave you a kiss.

his kisses were soft. they weren't rushed which was ironic considering all Bart was, was being fast and always on the move. you had placed your hands on his thighs as you made the kiss even deeper. it took you a few seconds to register what you were doing when alarms rang off in your head. you had a boyfriend and by continuing to kiss Bart, you were technically cheating on him.

"Bart no, I can't," you murmured, pushing yourself off of him. he gave you a defeated look, understanding where you coming from, "I'm sorry," you replied, going back to the food and trying to forget that you even made the move to reciprocate the kiss. in the back of your mind though, knew it that kiss meant that you had fell for Bart and hard.

"I have to head home, it's getting late and we patrol tomorrow night so I think it's best we head back," you whispered knowing you'd have to deal with your stingy boyfriend when you got home. Bart gave your hand one more squeeze before getting up, "see you later," Bart murmured, getting the inkling feeling that he'd probably receive a phone call tonight from you.

you nodded, making your way towards your apartment. you had a fuck ton of messages from your boyfriend and over ten missed calls by the time you sat comfortably in your couch. you finally dialed him back, instantly getting a bunch of curse words thrown at you for not picking up.

it felt like hours when the two of you finally stopped arguing with each other. it ended with you in tears and your voice hoarse as you had finally grown the nerve to break up with him. you knew for your mental health that it was time to do it and truthfully, your feelings for Bart were growing more and more every time you saw him. there was no point in continuing the relationship if you were no longer having feelings for him and although you felt guilty by doing it, you ripped it off like a band aid.

you grabbed your phone and clicked on Bart's number. Bart on the other hand shifted in his bed, seeing your contact light up his phone. he groggily picked it up, "hey," he said in that sleepy tone of his. you hiccuped, trying to control your tears, "can you come over?" you whispered, the crack of thunder scaring you shitless, "I really need someone right now."

Bart sighed, telling you to give him a minute before hanging up. Bart had no idea how many more of these late night sleepovers he had left in him. he sped over to your place, grabbing the secret key from the back of the broken piece of wood that was attached to your door frame. he opened it, seeing you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and your hiccups still overcoming your body.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you stared at him, tears instantly rushing down your face, "I deserve to be happy right?" he nodded almost immediately, "than why do I feel so shitty because I broke up with him?" you asked.

Bart stared at you, not believing what he was hearing. you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend and he was the first person you contacted.

"because that's what manipulative people do ( your name )," he whispered, "they make you feel like shit for things that you didn't even do. you're perfect and he didn't deserve you or anyone like you. especially you though," he joked, bracing you even harder for a hug. he knew it would be wrong to try and make a move but gave you a kiss on the top of your head and whispered nothing but supportive things into your ear as you tried to calm yourself down.

the rain happening outside and Bart's words were lulling you to sleep as Bart hadn't even realized that you were passing out on his side. it wasn't until you hadn't moved that Bart realized you were not longer awake. he grabbed your body, lifting you up bridal style before making his way to your room.

he placed you down on your bed with every intention of just letting you sleep and him heading home but you grabbed onto his body, sleepily saying that he was going to stay here. you hadn't even said it as a question but more as a statement. he didn't argue with it; however, and he had thankfully came over in his pajamas as he scooted you over a bit and crawled in.

you smiled softly, hugging him instantly and passing out once again. Bart placed a small kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your ear, "you'll be mine one day, didn't I tell you that?" he murmured before trying to fall back asleep.

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