#as soon as i had my own money and freedom to travel i started my stuffed animal collection back up and it's still going strong

[ladychota]

Run

Pairing - Loki x Female Reader

Warnings - Kidnapping, heartache, physical fighting, running away (lmk if you want me to add anything)

Summary - Loki's past actions have finally caught up with him.

Word Count - 1.4k

A/N - Based on the song 'Run' by Snow Patrol!

Masterlist

There are many things Loki has done in his life. Many things he's done wrong. And he knew they'd catch up with him eventually.

He just hadn't thought they would so soon.

You and him were planning what to do when the inevitable would happen: you'd saved up money, quit your jobs, sold the majority of your furniture and started to pack and make travel arrangements.

Loki hated to do this, especially to someone as amazing as you. If life went his way, he would've left you much sooner so you wouldn't be involved. Or, even better, he would never have taken things to the next level with you at all. 

He'd tried to gently break it to you. He'd tried to tell you he was running away and that you had to stay behind for your own safety. But, you being you, wouldn't let him leave without you. And, him being him, gave in to your stubbornness much too quickly.

In all honesty though, he's rather glad you insist on following him to the edges of the Earth and further. In all the wrongness in his life, it seems you're the only thing that's right. If it weren't for you, he's not sure he could've made it this far.

You'd both planned to leave in a few days, the final preparations being made to fall off the grid and into a life of constant running.

"It's okay," You had told him, running a gentle hand across his face. "We'll find a safe place eventually. And even if we don't, at least we'll be together,"

Loki could hardly look at you after your understanding words, but when he finally did, the small, worried smile sprawled across your features almost killed him with guilt. How could he do this to you? Force you into a lose lose situation? Either you stay with him and end up running for the rest of your life, or you never see him again.

He wants you to be happy and have a choice, even if he's not there. And he knows that you staying with him will take everything from you. You've already sacrificed so much for him, so how could he ask you to lose anymore?

Yet, every time he would bring this up with you, you'd always answer the same:

"You are my everything, my love. As long as I don't lose you, I am happy,"

So the plans were made. And they were so close to being complete. Bags were half-packed, the house close to empty. Any devices had been disconnected from the mains and abandoned, the last traces of the two of you inhabiting this small living space slowly being wiped away.

Loki had one more day to watch your tense body as you sped around the place, ensuring you had everything before you left the following night.

However, as per usual, the plans you and him were so close to completing were foiled. They arrived without being noticed - the both of you too distracted to sense something was off - and attacked when they were least expected.

"Do you think we should sell this?" You ask Loki, pointing to the kettle. He cringes, thinking of all the tea he won't get to brew; all the tea he won't get to drink. "And before you say anything," You continue. "We'll find tea somewhere, love. It's not exactly hard to ge-"

There's a loud crash; Loki instantly moves to shield you as the door is blown off its hinges and smashes onto the kitchen floor in a mess of small wooden fragments. Daggers form in his hands as the intruders charge forwards, aiming to capture him and anyone involved with his 'scheming' dead or alive. Blood is shed, the house: wrecked. Both you and Loki fight to keep your freedom - or at least, as much freedom as would be allowed in your current situation. More and more intruders barge into the house - much too many for two people to deal with on their own. 

Loki is - of course - considered as the main threat, and therefore is swamped with the most attackers. He's pushed further and further into the house; further and further away from you. Upon noticing the absence of you fighting by his side, he has a horrible realisation.

It trips up his heart, leaving it hanging by a singular, fraying thread. All he knows is he has to get back to you. He has to, for who knows what could happen otherwise? You are strong, and a remarkable fighter... yet you are just a mortal. Your strength has its limits, and though you've awed many by surpassing those limits time and time again, you can't do it every time.

Loki uses his newfound fear and anger of the situation to create a wave of magic so strong it knocks back the majority of the attackers. He pushes past the rest of them, sending daggers and bolts of acid green magic in the direction of anyone in his way.

But it seems his attempts are futile. For every attacker he shrugs off, they're replaced by at least two - he's struggling to shake them all.

A sudden soul-shattering scream from somewhere nearby slashes at the final string holding his heart, sending it plummeting into an abyss of fear and horror. The feelings well up inside him, overwhelming his senses as he calls out for you.

Through some miracle, Loki manages to drop all who were attacking him. He sprints through the open front door, yelling your name as if it'll magically bring you back to his side so you may run away together.

He watches through eyes slowly clouding over with tears as you're manhandled and dragged across the floor to a van. You fight against the iron grips of the attackers, unbothered - or perhaps unbeknownst - to the blood smeared across your face.

Loki yells once more, shrugging off the hands of people who try to grab him. Attention is brought to the God, and he thinks that perhaps it's the perfect time for you to free yourself.

But instead, you simply stop.

You stop fighting. Stop shouting. Instead, you murmur eight words meant only for his ears.

"Run," He hears you say. "Run and don't you dare look back."

Without thinking twice about it, he does. He runs as tears begin to overspill, trickling down his face and undoubtedly leaving blotchy red trails. His footsteps fall heavily on the ground, his breathing unnaturally quick. 

Loki keeps going - he keeps running until he's far away from the house, far away from the attackers, far away from... you. Eventually he can't move anymore and collapses on a park bench who knows where.

He's hungry, sweaty and exhausted; but most of all, his heart feels as if it's been dropped in poison. He just simply left you in the hands of those monsters. He left you to suffer on your own.

He left you behind.

And deep down he knows that your final words to him didn't just have one meaning.

Yes, you didn't want him to see you get thrown into the back of a van as if you were a ragdoll. Yes, you didn't want him to watch you get manhandled and hurt in the process.

But you also don't want him to look back on you. You don't want him to think about what was or what could have been. You don't want him to dwell on his mistakes and how he believes he led you into this. You don't want him to believe this is his fault.

You want him to forget about you so he can move on and potentially have the chance to be happy. And Loki knows this.

But how can he be happy when he's not with you?

He sits exhausted against the bench, the usually beautiful setting sun feeling as if it's taunting him. Fire-like rays of orange spread across the ground, the light making it look as if the trees are black with charcoal. 

Loki wonders if he should listen to you. If he should forget about you and move on; leave you with those horrid people. A very small part of him thinks this may be the best option... for him at least.

The rest of him knows he can't just leave you there. It could kill you. He also doesn't believe he can survive without the constant light you bring him. 

Shakily climbing to his feet, he begins work on a plan to rescue you and carry out the life you both used to wish you could have - a life where you don't have to run away. A life where you can be together without the constant fear.

Loki makes a quiet promise to himself, one he hopes he'll never break.

No more running.

#loki #laufeyson #loki laufeyson #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki angst #loki fanfic #loki oneshot #mcu #avengers #marvel #loki laufeyson x reader #angst

[spitblaze]

thoughts continue to percolate on Jobswap AU

So, as aforementioned, Therion is a surgeon apothecary who lost faith in himself and his profession after losing a patient who had some significance to him after a preventable accident and then being accosted by the family in his grief. He gave up the whole thing for several years, living in relative isolation close to Bolderfall. Until one day, when a desperate woman shows up at the door and begs for his help. She had heard he was an apothecary with knife skills, and sought him out immediately. Her younger sister, she says, has a giant growth on her neck, and if it doesn't come off soon, it's going to kill her. Other apothecaries have tried, but they all said it was impossible, that it was too difficult to remove it without damaging her wind pipe or major arteries. Or something. Idk. The point is that this situation is really dire and this kid reminds him of the patient he lost so he pulls the scalpel out 'one last time' to save her. She lives, and he remembers why he took up the mantle to start- the purpose of the apothecary. Doing this, he takes his journey.

Chapters two and three are mostly unrelated, basically chapters of Black Jack. Therion goes from town to town, sometimes charging ridiculous amounts of money for surgery, sometimes performing completely free of charge. He saves whoever he can, and those who abuse his abilities for their own gain find themselves with karmic retribution. Throughout the whole thing, though, there's the undercurrent of something worse happening. Another surgeon like him, traveling and charging ridiculous fees. He's a miracle worker, they say- he provides entire new organs when old ones fail, pulls people back from the very brink of death. But when his patients can't pay up, they mysteriously disappear...

Chapter four. Therion meets Darius. Fellow apothecary, wealthy fellow, personal doctor to the Ciannos. He has a proposal for Therion- they go into business, establish their own practice, charge out the nose and turn away all who don't pay. They both have reputations- Therion is the Beast Apothecary, a medic who works so fast and so precise it's almost inhuman, not afraid to use unorthodox methods to achieve his results. Darius is the Miracle Apothecary, a man who can seemingly bring people back from the brink of death with tools and materials nobody else has. The two of them together could do whatever they want, and who would stop them? Therion declines- he prefers the freedom of traveling where he pleases and doing as he wishes. A partnership would complicate things, and put him on more of a leash than he'd like. Besides, he's heard...rumors about what happens to his patients that don't pay up. Darius threatens him and leaves, and Therion investigates later on. Maybe follows some goons from the home of someone who hasn't paid, maybe scopes out Darius's 'hideout' by putting together information given to him by locals. Either way, he gets in, and discovers that Darius has been kidnapping the patients who don't pay up and harvesting their blood and tissue and organs. Horrifying! He fucking kills Darius. Darius tries to give him that 'you're no better than me' schtick but it doesnt work because he's regained his faith! In himself! In his profession! And I'm American so in my head it's a whole criticism of the for-profit healthcare industry!!! FUCK you Darius

Because I like it when stories cross over and it isn't actually a game trying to make sure you can complete all the stories in whatever order you want, Darius is also a major player in Alfyn's story! Alfyn lost his parents to the plague that swept through Clearbrook as a child. He survived thanks to a traveling apothecary, but he had nowhere to go after that ('but what about zeph' idk shh dont worry about it), and ended up turning to a life of petty theft after hitching a ride to Saintsbridge. He joins up with a group of thieves called the Red Hoods, as their newest and youngest member. They're all pretty cool people, somewhere between Robin Hood and Ye Olde Mutual Aid Organization. They look out for themselves and the little guy, steal from the rich, give to the poor, skim a bit off the top.

These guys are his best friends for years, he hones his skills as a thief, learned how the world works and how to help, basically everything he knows he learned from the Red Hoods. All is well until six years before present day, when Alfyn is fifteen. The Red Hoods plan a heist on the Ciannos, a crime family that's been terrorizing locals and hoarding money. Alfyn is briefly held up by helping a kid do something, look for their cat or whatever but makes it to the meeting point in time to see that they were lured into a trap. He peeks from behind a doorway, seeing a red-haired figure laugh about how gullible they were, how trusting and naive they all were for trusting each other. All of his friends are beaten and bloodied, some already dead. One sees him from the doorway and tells him to run, to get out while he still can. To keep the Red Hoods alive. Unable to act, Alfyn flees, only barely evading becoming a victim himself.

Years later he's still saddled with grief and survivor's guilt, thinking that if he had just said no to the kid who asked for help, if he had just taken a different route, if he had just been there to scout ahead, if, if, if. He's carried on the name of the Red Hoods as a one-man gang, unable to bring himself to allow anyone else into his heart that he could just lose in an instant again. He leaves calling cards after robbing the wealthy and unjust blind and redistributing it among the lower class. He does this until he happens to redistribute the wealth from the one family he shouldn't have- the Ravuses. From here it's basically Therion's story, except with Alfyn. You know how it goes. Get the Dragonstones and we'll remove the Blackmail Bracelet.

The end of his story coincides with Therion's story (also thematically appropriate bc im incapable of not giving them a slow burn romance) when they finally confront Darius. Darius comments on how the 'little coward thief' or whatever finally grew a spine, and how he can meet his end like the rest of his little friends. No longer afraid, Alfyn loudly declares that as long as he's alive, the Red Hoods will never die, and in a moment of solidarity, the rest of the party declares that they too are Red Hoods. Its very touching and inspirational and worthy of some Toby Fox music and then they beat the everloving shit out of Darius.

I am aware there are several holes in this story. And to that I say: Don't Worry About It.

#spitblaze says things #spitblaze draws things #octopath #octopath traveler #therion #therion (octopath) #alfyn greengrass #jobswap au #spitblaze writes things

[blueshistorysims]

The rest of the summer dragged on slowly. Rebecca and Rose spent every waking moment with Giselle, aiming for her recovery. Peter didn’t know what to do with himself, so he busied himself with work, taking the more difficult cases, staying shut up in his study for most of the day if he wasn’t in Liverpool. Alexander was more than glad to help his father, learn the tools of the trade while at it. 

Edeline still read her romance novels, but she had added her grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s science books to her palette, checking out medical books from the library, ignoring the judgmental stares from the librarian.

The summer wasn’t horrible for everyone. 14 year old Alexander enjoyed the last days of freedom before he and Byron would leave for secondary school. He liked going to the pond and watching all the little creatures. While he no longer tried to catch frogs, he still liked to watch them swim and jump around. The pond was small and not many people knew about it, so it became his little private corner to get away from everyone. 

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place,” a voice said behind Alexander.

He turned, surprised, to see a girl around his age. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No matter.” 

Alexander’s eyebrows furrowed, and he quickly realized the girl was an old classmate of his. “Oh! You’re… Edith, right?”

Edith nodded. “I’m surprised you know my name. We never talked to each other.”

“You’d have to be stupid or rude not to know your classmates’ names after being in school with them for seven years. Do you like coming here too?

She smiled shyly and nodded. “I come here almost every day.”

“Then I’m surprised we haven’t crossed paths before.”

And so began their conversation. Alexander had never been so enamored to speak to someone he barely knew. Their conversation lasted hours, and when they decided to meet again at the same time the next day, Alexander knew this was the start of something special.

But soon summer came to an end and autumn began, meaning Edeline, Alexander, and Byron were leaving for boarding school. Edeline was to attend her mother’s alma mater, Rockridge Girls’ Finishing School near London, while Alexander and Byron were going to Willow Creek College. Every single male Walsh had attended that school, and due to the fact their ancestor, the second Duke of Feldsbury, contributed a massive amount of money, Willow Creek allowed any of his direct descents to attend the college on a partial scholarship. While world-renowned, Willow Creek was extremely expensive, and without the scholarship, they wouldn’t have been able to send both boys and still be financially secure. 

They said a tearful goodbye to Rose and Giselle, who was strong enough to walk on her own now, but not yet able to travel, so they would say goodbye at the house before leaving for the train station. 

Edeline and Alexander were excited to leave home, having never been out of Lancastershire while Byron was indifferent. He was the youngest student ever admitted to Willow Creek College. He didn’t know what the future held for him. 

“I know all three of you will do well,” Rose said smiling, even if tears were pooling up in her eyes.

“I’ll miss you, Granny,” Byron told her.

She nodded. “Don’t worry, child. We will miss you even more.”

#the walshes #the walsh legacy #sims 4 #sims 4 decades #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 historical #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 1900s #1900s #edwardian #sims 4 legacy #rebecca walsh #rose walsh #peter walsh #edeline walsh #alexander walsh #byron walsh #giselle walsh

[oldarticles]

Escaping The First Semester Lull

by Jake Hurwitz

First semester is about half way over, and you're bound to be bored. After a few weeks at school nothing can really excite you anymore, huge parties are old news, you've obviously stopped caring about tests and quizzes and you've gone from embracing the "relaxed" look to being just plain dirty. You're dangling over the black abyss that is the monotonous existence of a college kid. But wait! A hand shoots out to save you just as you're about to fall to your doom, it's me! And I have some awesome ideas on how to spice up your mind-numbing reality:

Take a Road Trip: This is totally simple. Just cram all your friends into a car and drive. I suggest New York City, I don't care how far away it is. Don't worry about bringing any money, everything is free in the Big Apple, and all the tolls can be paid with nothing more than a polite smile and a, "hey how ya doin' pal?", Not to mention gas prices, zero dollars a gallon my friend. Sometimes in New York City they pay you five dollars just to fill up! They say New York is the city that never sleeps, and they mean it! Just wander through all the dark alleys that you see, you're sure to meet all kinds of interesting people.

Punch Your Roommate: This is a sure fire way to introduce some excitement into your life. Just walk right up to him/her and sock them in the face. When they come to, just be like, "You ate every single last one of my gingerbread cookies!", They won't have any idea what you're talking about, which is the idea. Before they can explain that they didn't even know you had any gingerbread cookies give them a swift kick in the side. After you've calmed down you can explain that it was all a misunderstanding. Your roommate will understand, right?

Learn a foreign Language: Just kidding, rob a convenience store. You don't need much, just something that somewhat resembles a gun and a kick-ass attitude. Get all your friends together and go rob that damn convenience store for all the Ho Ho Snack Cakes and scratch off games it's worth. With your winnings from the scratch off games you can go buy even more Ho Ho Snack Cakes. When the cops come looking for you just try bribing them with the Snack Cakes, if they act insulted, try offering them more Snack Cakes" or threaten them with the "gun".

Go on America's Funniest Home Videos: First you'll need to get the smart kid on your floor to build a time machine so you and your friends can travel back to 1990. Once there you can send in that video of you getting hit in the crotch with a croquet mallet. You might win 10,000 dollars, or better yet, you might get to meet Bob Saget in his prime. Getting back to the future might be hard, but who cares? You met Bob Fucking Saget!

Free All the Animals From the Zoo: Not only will you be escaping the mundane existence of college life, you will be helping wild animals escape the caged existence of zoo life. Just hop on a bus to your local zoo. When you get there, sneak on in and cut the locks off all the cages. Start with the more docile animals, so as to give them a head start from the carnivorous predators you'll be releasing soon after. As for you, you shouldn't worry too much about being eaten by lion, at most they'll just maim you. And what a small price to pay for an exotic animals freedom!

So now you've got no excuse to be bored, I just supplied you with some great ways to bring some exhilaration into your bleak lives. Any one of my above suggestions will do, but don't be afraid to try your own recipe for entertainment; all you need is a good imagination, a wild streak and a complete lack of common sense and basic reasoning skills. Oh, it also helps if your parents dropped you on your head when you were a baby.

#jake and amir

[yeonghan-bh]

skibbidy beep bop boo what is up its ya girl soggy unmicrowaved nuggets aka sun back here with a second muse that i swore up and down was not going to become a thing but say hello to no impulse control (hi that's me!)

i am here to introduce my bad decision, cho yeonghan rivers !

fulfilling the canon role mock orange after lots of questions with our dear admin! i bring to you darker themes with rivers! explicit details weren't described in his app or background but you guys probably get the gist of dark, gorey and grimey. see below the cut and give this a liddol like, i will swim swam into dms and! this is a secondary blog so any asks/likes from rivers' account will come through yeonsu's!

trigger warnings: child abandonment

TLDR

born to a couple that came from a community of the past monarch's supporters and people in the small unknown town of hwabok. they basically became a cult with the mentality they had hoping that the late monarch's line would one day return to rule.

the couple found comfort in each other because neither of them wanted to continue living in that environment. after they got married, it wasn't long before they became pregnant with their first child. however, the thought of raising their child in such a place started pushing them over the edge until it became obvious to everyone that their views did not align with the community!

basically, they were named as traitors and given the ultimatum of paying for their betrayal with their lives, or paying for their freedom with their firstborn. (think rumplestiltskin!)

the fear of dying was heavy and even more because the threat was very real to them and their unborn child. so they made the unspeakable decision of leaving their child behind to spare all their lives.

abandoned, the child was given the name 'yeong' as curse in meaning he had nothing and no one wanted him. however, the village elder who came to be responsible for him changed his name to yeonghan so that he would have a more respectable name he would be able to carry with pride one day.

yeonghan was the mark of shame for the community and it was made clear to him from a young age. he had no control of his life and lived to complete the dirty work and biddings for the community.

the name rivers came to after someone overheard his conversation with the elder taking care of him- telling him to take the path of least resistance like a river. the idea of yeonghan living only to bend to everyone's wills was quickly spread amongst the people and everyone soon called him rivers as another reminder of his cursed life.

however, the comparison given to him was that the path of least resistance would always lead him to finding a way and so yeonghan wore the name rivers with silent pride.

growing up, yeonghan was able to secretly develop his artistic skill thanks to the elder who took care of him. it was with their hidden support that he was able to create art and sell them in secret whenever any traveling merchants passed through town. this was how he earned enough money to finally escape the town following the death of the elder.

he's been in beonhwa for about four years now and has tried to live a quiet life. however, not long after his arrival to beonhwa, he was found by one of the townspeople who exposed his true identity as hwabok's dirty dog for those in support of the past monarch.

this made things difficult for rivers to truly start new, however, he was able to make do by continuing to sell art and using his skills to gain favor with certain nobility.

however, when rivers is in a pinch and needs quick cash, he has no issue turning to his past and taking on any dirty work from those looking to have things done in secrecy within beonhwa.

PERSONALITY

the biggest cynic and pessimist

but also the biggest romanticist?? it's the artist in him tbfr

lowkey mean af but it's just bec he doesn't give a fuck about people really

but he minds his own business so... if he does something to offend you, it's because you weren't minding your business! aka dont talk to him at all!

okay okay he isn't always taking shots at people but he isn't the brightest ray of sunshine out there but he does have the type of judgemental stare that will keep you up at night second-guessing yourself about if what you did was stupid or not

heavy chain-smoker and has recently switched over to herbal smokes now that he's out of the hellhole that town was

PLOTS

rivers' identity and origins aren't hidden. not after the way it was publically exposed following his arrival to beonhwa, and he's never done anything to shed or erase the past from his image. the community has mixed reactions about his presence in beonhwa and sometimes he's still referred to as hwabok's dirty dog. someone spits this to his face one day— maybe your muse defends him or maybe your muse agrees with them.

your muse is a collector of art and one day sees one of rivers most known pieces floating around. they want to commission something from him.

a fire has started in one of the fields in the outskirts and rivers happens to be nearby. after some investigation, a cigarette butt is found and seeing a chance- people immediately accuse rivers as the culprit. the cigarette butt they find in question however has traces of tobacco versus the rolled flower petals present in rivers pockets.

someone wants to hurt your muse and rivers was hired to carry out the deed?

#bhrp:intro #ooc ✘ #— i tried ;; #— if ur cool with a random starter before deport plotting or in gen throw down an emoji in the replies and ill chuck that out!

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I was spoiled last summer because I got to go on 3 trips, essentially 3 vacations, the first vacations I'd taken since my cousin's wedding in 2018.

For my birthday in May, I went to Busch Gardens and a youtuber boxing match with some friends. In June I went to a week-long family reunion in DC, Maryland and Pennsylvania; we had a memorial for my Grammy who passed away in 2021, visited some of my mom's cousins I'd never met before, spent a whole day at Six Flags America with my own cousins, and toured the National Mall/Smithsonian. In August, I had a longshot job interview at a library in the city I want to move to, so I took time off work to bus up, crashed with my sister, and aced the first round with flying colors; I spent a congratulatory week in town looking for an apartment, then headed home with some promising leads and absolutely BOMBED the second round, evaporating my best chance at getting off the godforsaken rock I've been stuck on since I graduated college.

This year, I don't have any real plans. I finally bought my own car, but now I have to start the whole job and apartment search from square one with severely diminished savings. I wanted to quit my current job last weekend, but I chickened out because I need the money. If I leave sometime this summer and find an apartment to sublease, I'd have to move out in August anyway because all the leases expire just in time for the fall semester. Move-out and move-in are a week or two apart, so I'd have to come back home anyway while I was between leases, assuming I was even able to secure a full year lease when I'm competing with something like fifty thousand college students in a town with a population of less than 150,000. It seems like every new building being constructed up there is an apartment complex, but they fill up almost immediately and rent never goes down.

I can't stay in the Keys much longer. There's nothing for me down here. If I can't move until August, I at least need to take a break from work and travel before my student loans inevitably come due because the nazi bastards on SCOTUS think only rich fucks deserve debt forgiveness and the measly poors have to prop them up. I want to enjoy my summer, because it's all downhill from here. The economy is on the verge of collapse and we're heading into another dumpster fire of a presidential election (it feels like every cycle is worse than the last). I need a distraction. I need an outlet. I need to take advantage of the freedom my car affords me before shit hits the fan and I'm forced to come crawling back to a job I barely tolerate on an island I despise with every fiber of my being. If I don't get out soon, I don't know when I'll get my next shot.

Next April I'm going on a roadtrip to Ohio to view the total solar eclipse, so I at least have that to look forward to if nothing else. Just 11 months to go.

Who am I kidding? I won't survive down here another year. This place is eroding my mental health. It is absolutely imperative that I move before summer ends, lease or no lease. I'd rather live out of my car for a while than be stuck here indefinitely.

[scentedchildnacho]

I told David a pool crowd is way better here at night then during the day.....I had a stalker that was trying to call something my spot......it's way better to get kicked out by community ownership then by my stalkers plans to see a jail rape....ya know the type that wants to see four armed uniforms use random objects to molest a lady

The democrats have a hard time doing anything until things are shocking enough....

Ya know if it's finally about chaining people up or children getting cancer or unarmed undamgerous and defenseless civilians like women then they finally stop processes

They could have made a decision awhile ago to just not enjoy the executive corporatism as much as something snobbier but it only gets better if I'm under threat of more cop rapes and the cops with serial night stalking habits constantly put up on TV for it

The pool isn't a resort it's a sport pool like it use to be for school districts so I asked David if he actually knew any of these families

Or do they all travel to here?......David said he didn't really know.....

I started realizing it's not just me that has to find them very unfriendly strangers

I confessed to David I just feel very laid over here I want to get to California as soon as possible I don't ever want to spend a winter as cold as Las Cruces ever again it was so cold my hands and feet felt battered with something electric....and I was screaming at shelter staff that I don't care if their given assault and battery records for human trafficking and claiming aid just to sell people very very cheaply

I've thought of surrounding populations are involved and it is just the shelter system and the creepy executive that owns it

I explained otherwise new Mexico is way too awful for migrantcy if you don't have state sponsorship there is no peace it's so awful the worst most unregulated space ever so awful

So the dark people were showing me about work that they go through these weird shock processes so I would stop finding the pool too inexplicable

Pushed back into the water that's the fishing to do though

David thought more lights on the lawn so I said no David please don't God....if it was Alaska where a natural gas economy makes sense near Russia I would say yes but when it's here....you are technically suppose to be allowed to train to see in very dark spaces....

No one can see in the dark anymore?

Everything is light you can train to see very microscopic light levels...

Most people with natural gas here display that their need for schedule causes them homicidal ideation there were several hit and run threats

I'm not sure about locomotion and renewable energy but gas pumps have a lot of personal solar on them

Dermatology most spaces can be sued for taking in excess retail theft then never augmenting their business to a resort standard none of the money stays in the space...

Like this space could really benefit from filters on the outside security lights it's always a cop drama

That's what I have learned about perpetration in my life it can't be provoked if you play the scene or fantasy it wants it's psychopathy just kind of gets bored or better then you and leaves you alone

I told David I was welcomed here but even if it hadn't been shockingly psychologically and emotionally abusive to me in new Mexico I don't want to fit in here...I think about getting a glass ceiling complex and feeling old and trying to be young again but I really wouldn't want it here

Anyway I told her even if the situation wasn't abusive in my world if seasonal one can't stay because it's make believe and others get to go otherwise the united States is a harsh climate

I have had to learn about myself that my relationships are much better if I give others personal freedom....if people may come and go I avoid a lot of the awfulness some of my bad relationships were

[novoplata]

Entitlement.

My first brush with entitlement happened when I was about to enrol on a degree programme. Having just finished matriculation with mediocre results, I was pretty happy to be accepted into a Food Science & Nutrition programme -- that was until I found out that someone else who had similarly mediocre results as mine (or worse) got to go abroad to study medicine just because her parents could afford it.

Having attended public school for the rest of my life until then, where all my schoolmates came from similar socioeconomic backgrounds as mine, I was not used to feeling envious of other people. Until then, my assumption of gained opportunities was pretty black and white: you work hard and the rewards will come. Never before did I realise that money or connection could be a great unequaliser.

For the first time, I realised that life is unfair. Worse, I wondered if my life would've been different if only my family had come from money. I started entertaining thoughts about what life would've been if only I could afford other educational options other than a public university.

A malignant discontentment about life and my personal fate soon festered in my heart. I thought I deserved better and that my family background was to blame for whatever lack of opportunity I had. It would take me years to understand that what I was nurturing in my heart was a nasty case of entitlement.

The funny thing about entitlement was that it made me feel helpless -- as if I didn't have the power to change my life's direction unless someone enabled me to. In my mid-20s, I remember feeling very frustrated and stuck in my meagre-salaried job. I remember seeing Facebook updates of my friends from college on vacation, and I was so envious that I'd never been anywhere abroad yet.

I thought, if only my family had the money to pay for my medical degree, I would've earned more and been able to travel. Or, if only God had not been so unfair to me and let me be married, my husband would've been able to take me travelling.

Take your power back

I was probably already in my early 30s when I realised that, as much as some of us probably deserve better in life, it isn't going to change the fact that life is indeed unfair. The sooner I make peace with this understanding the better.

Feeling entitled was not going to change my life for the better. The best I could do was to make the best of any situation I'm in and take charge of my life. Surprisingly, this gave me the freedom and power I needed over discontentment and unhappiness.

As soon as I started telling myself that everything was up to me and no miracle was going to happen other than my own hard work, I started focusing more on what I can do: sharpen my talent in writing, jump out of my comfort zone, and stop waiting for the ideal circumstances to happen before I do something I've always wanted.

Soon after, I started being more proactive in life. I started earning more, travelled solo to 8 countries (despite my initial reservations about getting butchered by a serial killer), and stopped feeling any sort of discontentment about anything that I'm missing out on.

Today, I must admit that my personal pet peeve of all time is 'entitlement'; having had spent a chunk of my youth in that miserable little confinement before. Entitlement expresses itself in ingratitude and bitterness, believing that everyone else is responsible for one's own fulfilment other than oneself. Entitlement must die a horrible death before one can truly be happy.

#entitlement

[hoofenxit]

“Ghost of Ohio” A Honeysuckle Drabble

// while writing this I was listening to a song of the same name: https://youtu.be/GEMye-5l2DA

The setting is when Honeysuckle was 23, reflecting on her life and how to move forward from it.

in case anyone needs it, TW for the following: Drug usage, Abuse mentions, Near death Experience

Life always had it’s ups and downs, people came and went...It was just how things were, and Honeysuckle knew it...Though there was always that urge of saying fuck all and leaving it all behind, to pack a bag and head to the nearest bus stop to get out of her hometown.

Of course she toss and turned with the idea since she was 13, whether or not she should leave her mother and brother behind...Of course she knew her step dad wouldn’t care, in fact she figured he would be thrilled with her gone.

When she turned 18, not long after she learned the truth about who her real dad was, she and a few of her friends who shared her dream of leaving Ohio and traveling preforming concerts would pack their bags, their equipment and head on out, Honeysuckle leaving a note behind for her mother and brother:

Dear Mom and Damian,

  Sorry you had to find out like this...But I’m tired of staying in a house where I’m constantly degraded and told I will never be anything than a horse faced bitch..Heh..Guess James will be happy huh? Not having a horse step daughter around to plague his life...

  Anyways, i’m heading outta town, maybe to the next town over or hell outta state with some of my friends. Don’t worry I got my ID and wallet on me. I’ll try to keep in touch so you wont go worrying.    I need this, it’s time I find my own path and see what’s out there...Who knows, maybe I’ll be famous like dad...My real dad...Someday. But until then, I need to do this.

                                                       Sincerely yours,                                                                     Honeysuckle Horseman

It was hard but it had to be done...With that out of the way she began her journey to freedom.

Of course this was just the tip of the iceberg...As quickly she would soon miss home but kept trying to tell herself that she can’t go back...At least not now, she still had so much to do and see. It would be about 7 months into her new life, she had preformed at least 20 gigs in different towns, making a name for herself and her bandmates, even earning money along the way. It was during this time she met a leopard in what looked at first to her, monochrome clown paint, though through talking with him she would learn what a Juggalo was.

For about a year, things were good between the two, Honeysuckle doing her music while her new boyfriend would attend every show to support her...Though at some point during that past year, he had gotten Honeysuckle into trying drugs, claiming it would make her stress and worries melt away...And she believed him, thinking what harm could it do? After all she trusted him and didn’t think he would try to harm her in any way...Being 19 and becoming addicted to drugs..She didn’t notice when she started to act so reckless...

It was during one of her concerts, she was blitzed out of her mind on drugs that she started to climb some platforms off stage while preforming, singing her song and wandering a bit aimlessly until she went to jump off of the platform only to miss the landing, smacking her ribs into the side of the stage and blacking out for a few moments, only to get back up onto the stage and announcing some songs that weren’t on the list for the night.

Her bandmates were confused but didn’t question it until after the show was over when one of her bandmates approached her and noticed how dazed she was, asking if she was alright before she would go “Yeahh im fiiine” and proceed to black out once more.

Her manager would take her to the hospital which would come to light that she was on heavy drugs and would need to detox while her ribs healed. It wasn’t an easy thing for Honeysuckle to accept, getting mad once she was awake, claiming the drugs were the reason she felt no pain and that she knew what she was doing...Of course her boyfriend backed her up but never admitted to being the one that gave them to her but also to avoid suspicion did side with the doctor at least to help get Honeysuckle to the point she could go back to their apartment.

Once she was released when life started to get real for the poor girl...Getting into fights with her boyfriend over drugs, her band, their relationship...This went on, on and off for about a year...Age 20 was when a breaking point hit, Honeysuckle was given more doses than she was used to, her heart racing as she got into a heated argument with her boyfriend which only made it worse as he slapped her across the face and chased her into the bathroom which she managed to lock before he could get in, her mind and heart racing as she could barely stand, sliding down the door onto the floor as she curled up as her breathing became quick, almost as if she was running out of air...She wouldn’t know it, but she blacked out due to a drug overdose, their neighbors who had heard the fighting called the cops which in turn, saved Honeysuckle’s life as she was escorted to the Hospital and had her stomach pumped...Her boyfriend arrested as the officers found drugs in the apartment and on his person.

The next 3 years, Honeysuckle would spend her time getting herself clean, her band taking a hiatus while she did so. It gave her plenty of time to realize she had lost her way for the 5 years...But now...She wanted to change that. Heading out of her new apartment’s balcony, she lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag before holding and exhaling, leaning over the fence as she looked out into the city...She thought about her mother, her brother...The friends she had come to see as family...She owed it to them, and to herself to keep clean and better herself.

She would softly chuckle to herself, “Guess I could call myself...The ghost of Ohio.”

#It's Another Ramble (( OOC Post )) #Drabble

[glruffer]

I had been thinking about posting Oslonians, an ebook I wrote in 2011 that was published on the now-defunct, exceptional, Pangur Ban Party. When I revisited it though I found a way to rework it. It’s very different now, containing both more and less of myself. The one published was very much a travel piece, but I think it now works on some other levels too. I’m happier with it. The original version of Oslonians was written with the single intention of submitting it to PBP - I really wanted to have something published there, as it had already published so many great ebooks that I was fond of. It’s a terrible motivation for writing. Like most of what I write, I grew to hate it out of embarrassment. Another dead website (I think) did a series of PBP authors reviewing their own work. I couldn’t find what I sent but found this “prologue” I wrote but never did anything with. It was 3000 words but I’ve cut it down.

Oslonians Prologue

I left my bedsit for the train station two hours before I had originally intended. It had been snowing heavily the previous night and although it had now stopped train delays were beyond doubt.

I walked down the hill, treading firmly against the smoothly frozen, now slippery snow. Across the road, three men around the same age as me were walking. I saw them, they saw me. We were parallel, then they were behind me. Snow splattered against the wall. I thought about how embarrassing it would have been if it had hit me in the side of the head, but did not think about why they had decided to throw a snowball at me, someone they did not know. It is the kind of thing that has often happened to me since I was a child. I don’t know why. I carried on walking.

At Tottenham Hale, I called my girlfriend. She had just arrived at St. Pancras. It would be a while before she arrived. I walked around Asda, not looking for anything in particular. In one section they had info-mercials playing on small screens. Many info-mercials were playing at the same time, all with the same voice over guy; it sounded like some horrible, demented stream of consciousness. I watched one info-mercial for something called a Snuggie, which was like a blanket with sleeves. They made a great deal about the fact that it had sleeves which meant you could do things like talk on the phone.

It had been two weeks since I had last seen my girlfriend and we talked a lot. When we boarded the train, most of the double seats were taken. We found two seats facing backwards in a table booth. Opposite us was a middle-aged woman wearing a black woolly hat, which I imagined was covering a bald head as no hair could be seen. During the journey I felt self-conscious of her presence as we spoke and I found it difficult to talk properly to my girlfriend without feeling like I was censoring myself. Before she left, I half expected her to lean across and speak her opinion on something we had been talking about. But as she got up to leave she smiled. “You’re both very lucky,” she said. My girlfriend and I laughed nervously. She turned into the aisle before turning back around to us. “Have a merry Christmas,” she said. It is one of my favourite memories of when we were together.

After my money was changed we went to look for food. We still had another seven hours before the flight. We went into a spar and my girlfriend started looking through different kinds of food she could and couldn’t eat. We ended up sitting down next to a photobooth, the gigantic head of the passport photo model looming above us. We curled up on the hard surface of the airport floor. I took off my coat and put it over me like a blanket. “What would be good is a blanket,” I said. “But then I would be restricted by not having sleeves. That’s what makes a Snuggie so great! The warmth of a blanket with the freedom of sleeves. And a Snuggie doesn’t fall off when you get up, because it has sleeves!” Soon I could hear my girlfriend snoring. I lay next to her, feeling the bone of my hip press awkwardly against the floor. I waited until one a.m. then sat up and started reading.

We went to the boarding gate. My girlfriend started telling me about a racist man at a bus stop that she saw when she was going to pick up a friend. I accused her of never picking me up or dropping me off from the station when I went to visit. She defended herself by saying that her friend had no sense of direction. She seemed upset and distressed by my accusation. I felt bad for my hours of jealousy in which I had thought about her going to pick up another man from the train station while she had never done so with me. She said she would pick me up next time if I wanted, but I told her not to worry about it and I was just trying to be funny, even though truthfully I wanted her to.

Everyone finished boarding the plane and putting their stuff in the overhead space. I needed the toilet. One of the cabin crew started explaining what to do in an emergency situation; I started pacing my feet backwards and forward. I still needed the toilet. After she finished talking, I kept waiting. There was no way I could go to the toilet now, I thought. I started thinking about what would happen if I pissed myself. I started playing the scenario in my head, taking my luggage out from the overhead compartment and putting my coat over my lap as I changed out of my wet jeans and into a new pair. I thought about walking down the aisle with a massive wet patch around my crotch, being extremely embarrassed. I looked over at my girlfriend. She was asleep. A child in front started yelling, “We’re going to Sweden!” Sweden? I thought. Were we on the wrong flight? I was confused, anxious and I really needed the toilet. My pulse quickened. I thought to myself, If I pass out now then no one can blame me for pissing myself. I tried to breathe slowly and calm myself down. I told myself how good it would feel to finally be able to go to the toilet after needing to go for so long. A voice came on the overhead speakers. It was the pilot, telling us we would have to wait another twenty minutes before our flight left because of the snow. I grabbed my girlfriend’s arm and told her what was going on. She woke up. I asked her what button I had to press to call a flight attendant. She said she didn’t know. I pushed a button above my head and a flight attendant came. I asked if we could use the toilets seeing as the plane wasn’t taking off. She looked confused then told me there were toilets at the back of the plane. I undid my belt and jogged down to the back of the plane where there were two toilets. Both of them were locked. There were two flight attendants and I asked them if I could use the toilets. They said I could, but that other people were using them at the minute. It then seemed that I could have gone to the toilet whenever I wanted to. I needed the toilet less now. I was not as agitated. I felt like an idiot, but I was calm. When I got back to my seat I was in a state of near euphoria. I was still convinced we were on the wrong plane but I decided that if we ended up in Sweden we could get a train or coach to Oslo and we would get to see a lot of the country. We took off an hour after we were supposed to.

Just before take off I lent to look out the window and told my girlfriend, “If I stay like this when we take off my face wills be pressed into your face through sheer g-force.” I then pressed my face into hers and kissed her. The plane lifted up off the ground and my ears popped. Then I fell asleep. When I woke up we were in Norway.

[survey--s]

341.

What states have you been to in the past year? Just the county I currently live in, lol. COVID kind of put a stop to any overseas travel for a while, and I’ve just been to busy or broke to travel since, lol.

Have you ever sleepwalked? Not to my knowledge. I do talk in my sleep though.

What year was your house built? Around the 1930′s I believe.

Do you feel like you have more in common with men or with women? I mean, it depends on the person, not what’s in-between their legs.

What’s your favorite superhero movie? I’m not really into superheroes, but Spiderman was okay.

Do you want children? Why/why not? Nope. I like my freedom and not having to live my life based on another persons whims lol. I’m too selfish to raise kids. It’s weird, because if you’d asked me a couple of years ago, I would have been ALL about kids. I am eternally grateful that never happened, hah.

Do you have any credit card debt? Well, technically yes in that I owe money on cards, but I have more than enough in savings to cover the bills.

Have you ever been really late for work because you slept past your alarm? No. I’ve only ever been late for work when I’ve been stuck in traffic or the weather has been bad.

Are you good at reading people? Not really, no.

Who do you go to for relationship advice? I don’t really ever ask anyone for relationship advice.

What was your favorite way to spend a summer day as a kid? Playing in the garden, riding my bike, going to the local pool or the park, getting ice-cream or going the local beach or theme park, though neither of those things happened very often.

What’s the longest you’ve worked without a day off? Uh, about 5-6 months straight when I agreed to walk Ruby seven days a week. NEVER again lol. I now only do weekends on request and I’m going to be increasing my weekend rates soon as well.

Have you ever been scammed? Yeah, but I caught on to it before they took any money. It was more identity fraud than a true scam.

Do you know anyone who works in the tech industry in Silicon Valley? Nope.

Do you wear eyeliner? Nope. I’m not even sure I own any anymore.

Did you ever take a personal finance class in school? Nope, that’s not a thing here.

Where were you the last time you kissed someone? In the bedroom.

How’s your mental health? Are you feeling well?? It’s pretty great.

Do you struggle with acne? I currently have a huge spot on my chin lol, but in general no, but skin is good these days. I did get a few bad spots as a teenager though.

Did you have a Xanga page back in the pre-Myspace days? Man, I really miss Xanga.

Around what year did you start using the internet, anyways? We didn’t really have internet at home until 2000 but I think I’d used it in school a few times before then.

Do you have any uncommon interests or hobbies? I don’t think taking surveys is very well known off here, but otherwise no. Horse-riding, watching TV and photography are all pretty common hobbies to have.

What’s something that would make you incredibly happy right now? A good night’s sleep.

What did you do for your 18th birthday? Went out for dinner with friends - we had Mexican, I think.

What temperature do you keep your thermostat set at in the winter? We have it set to around 18 degrees but I think this winter we’ll be using the log burner as heating costs will be INSANE otherwise.

Have you ever been to the Caribbean? Nope.

Have you ever fostered an animal? Yes, temporarily for a client while she was in hospital. I couldn’t do it otherwise though, I’d end up wanting to keep them all, haha.

What did you have for breakfast this morning? A coffee and a chocolate croissant.

What’s your favorite form of exercise? Horse riding or dog walking. I probably prefer riding but it’s too expensive for me to do it more than once a week at the moment - if I could afford my own horse on full livery so all I had to do was turn up and ride it, that would be my dream, hahah. Or, I’d have a private yard/paddock and have the horse live out so I didn’t have to worry too much.

Have you ever drank so much that you passed out? Yeah, several times as a student.

#survey #surveys

[shorkbrian]

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately. 

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.” 

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment. 

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way. 

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.” 

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie. 

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone. 

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed. 

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island.  It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words. 

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest. 

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face. 

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly. 

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it. 

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

#shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #bnha shouto #yandere shouto #shouto x you #yandere #Yandere bnha #Yandere mha #sugar daddy lol #sugar daddy shouto #Shouto smut #Yandere shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #Shoto smut #tw.noncon #tw.dubcon #tw.coercion #tw.manipulation #tw.abuse of power #tw.abuse of trust

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either… 

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon… 

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash. 

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops. 

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

[broiunno]

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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

You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

==

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

==

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

==

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 3

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Clumsy injury, more stupid fighting Length: 2.5k Notes: If these two dummies could have one (1) adult conversation they’d be in bed together by now. Instead, we get this! *waves around vaguely*

PART ONE, TWO

Money was tight. You had been trying to ignore the dwindling stack of cash, telling yourself that you didn’t actually need to fix the cracked drywall, replace the old oven, or fill in the missing patches of shingles. 

That ignorance had finally come to bite you in the butt. You were rudely woken at three a.m. to the clap of thunder and the pat-pat-pat of rain hitting the house. You loved storms, the excitement of the lighting, and how fresh the air smelled once the rain had passed. 

You rolled over onto your back so you could watch the lightning flashing between the cracks of your curtains. A tap on your forehead quickly destroyed the excitement you were feeling. The wet ‘splat’ was quickly followed by another, and another, and before you were able to scramble up and search for the closest thing resembling a bucket, it had turned into a steady stream.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

The next morning, the sun rose and shed its light upon a beautiful scene. The leaves, now free from dust, were beginning to turn, the grass glimmered with raindrops, and the sky was clear. You, on the other hand, were a verifiable disaster. 

Hair unkempt, heavy bags under your eyes, and wearing the first items of clothing you could find in your scramble last night. Your exhaustion was so complete, it hadn’t even dawned on you to change or freshen up a bit before going out into the public eye. All you could focus on was getting to Hank’s Hardware and buying all the shingles you could get your hands on.

Once again, however, you were harshly reminded of your dwindling savings and just how expensive fixing up a house could be. The owner, Allan if you remembered correctly, had shown you the right size and style for your home’s roof and you nearly choked at the price.

“You know,” he had said gently, “we do have the option of a payment plan. I don’t let just anyone use it either. It’s for trusted customers. I have a good gut on who I can trust.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a little pathetic while also knowing now was not the time to let pride ruin such a good thing. “And, um, what does your gut tell you about me?”

“Welllll,” he smiled, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders and leaning back a little to size you up. “You’re hard-working, feel like you have something to prove, won’t back down from a challenge, and are in way over your head with that damn old house.”

“Oh.”

“No offense, ma’am! Sometimes I forget myself and talk to strangers the same way I’d talk to my friends.” He patted your forearm gently then hooked it back into his suspenders, pretending he didn’t notice you jumping at the physical contact. “But it’s true. No denying you won’t be able to shingle all by yourself. I’d offer, but I’m in no shape to be climbing up roofs.”

“That’s very sweet of you, truly. But I’ll manage! I doubt I could afford a handyman, so it’ll be me and my stubborn self scrambling around up there.” You joked, but it fell a little flat since the both of you knew it was the truth.

“I’ve got an idea...” Hank trailed off, his gaze searching around by the till. “Maybe you two can help each other out?” He fiddled at the computer for a minute, then grabbed a flyer from the corkboard mounted behind the counter before handing you two pieces of paper. One was a receipt of what you owed him after this latest excursion and a detailed timeline of when small payments could be made. 

Glancing up at him, you gave him a watery smile and thanked him for being so kind. Allan waved you off and pointed to the second paper.

‘Help Wanted’ it read, ‘Morales Acres. Light physical labour, quiet environment, rate of pay dependent on quality of work.’

“So friendly and welcoming,” you murmured, sarcastically, under your breath. Not quietly enough though because Allan snorted out a laugh and agreed that the ad was worded very abruptly. However, he vetted for the owner of the farm and suggested you head over to see if he would be willing to trade labour for labour.

Or at the very least, you thought, pay you so you can afford a roofer.

Following the directions Allan had provided for you, you quickly found Morales Acres. Surprisingly, it was a very short distance from your own home, making you wonder if the owner had been one of the people to drop by during your first weeks here.

The driveway was a beautiful, winding drive. The view of the farm was obscured by thickets of trees on either side of the road but you managed to catch glimpses of a pond and a few bales of hay before rounding a bend and driving into the yard.

A small gasp left your lips at the sight. It was picturesque! Something out of a travel magazine, or on every city girl’s Pinterest board. The driveway came to an end in front of a statuesque barn painted in the classic red and white, stone walls cordoned off certain areas that, from where you sat, looked like they could be used to house sheep or hens. A few small sheds were lined up along the other edge of the yard but the main attraction was the neatly lined rows of apple trees all heavy with fruit.

Climbing out of the cab, you slowly made your way into the yard with your mouth hanging open dumbly. It was just so peaceful here and it was obvious that the owner cared deeply for the property. You were enchanted and fell immediately in love.

“You must be the help Allan called to say he was sending over,” a warm voice rang out.

Looking around for the source your gaze widened, then immediately hardened, when you caught sight of who was talking to you.

“You!”

“You?!”

To say it had been a smooth business agreement would be a total lie. You and Market Asshole, Frankie you reminded yourself to call him, had bickered back and forth for the better part of an hour before shaking hands. Surprisingly, you had both argued more for the other person’s benefit, something you had been mulling over since.

If this guy was such an ass, why was he also acting like his help with your renovations wouldn’t be worth as much as you picking apples? You knew your presence disturbed his peace, and that you weren’t as strong as he might have hoped his helper would be, and he still hadn’t trusted you with all the workings of his orchard. 

So, while you weren’t going to argue anymore, you knew you were getting the better end of the deal: you help him gather his harvest and get it safely stored in the barn, then he spends the same amount of hours helping you. While the weather during September was prone to drizzle, you had convinced him that a tarp thrown over the baldest patches of roof would be fine and that the apples couldn’t wait. 

He had grumpily conceded your point but had sworn that as soon as the last of the fruit was picked he’d be over to do a proper job of it. So continued the uneasy truce between the two of you for the past four weeks. The first week was the hardest as your hands, unaccustomed to work, blistered, and your muscles ached from sudden use. You had initially tried to pass the time by making conversation but you got the hint and stayed quiet once Frankie started choosing trees farther and farther from yours.

Slowly, however, the blisters healed and gave way to callouses. Your muscles became accustomed to the work and you were able to carry twice the amount as you had started off with. Your home could now boast electricity and running water everywhere it should be, and the pile of discarded furniture had been reduced to ash by a spectacular bonfire which Jacquie and her family had joined you in admiring.

Today started off as a normal day. You showed up for harvesting at the break of dawn, having discovered you much preferred the cool morning air over being up on a ladder with the midday sun beating down on you. The trees were obscured by a low fog that had yet to burn up, but you knew what section you needed to start on. 

Enjoying the way the fog enveloped you, making you feel like you were in a magical world, you began to hum and your steps took on a dreamy dance-like quality. You had never taken lessons or had even been allowed to make such a spectacle of yourself while living with Brad but now you felt free enough to spin, twirl, and glide. Overcome with the joy your freedom gave you, you began to belt out “These Are a Few of my Favourite Things”, The Sound of Music having been played on repeat when you were a child. 

Once you reached the ladder, you hoisted the basket onto your back and continued to sing whatever songs you could remember while you worked. A particularly boisterous rendition of “Do Re Mi” had you flinging your arm out wide and leaning back on the ladder for a dramatic finish.

The apples threw you off balance. 

With a screech, you fell backward, managing to twist yourself around to land awkwardly on your hands and knees instead of on the basket of apples strapped to your back. You seemed to have come away unscathed, with just scratched knees and a throbbing in one wrist. Thankfully it wasn’t your dominant hand.

“Whoa!” Frankie called out, catching sight of you on the ground with the ladder tipped on its side, “Everything okay? Are you okay?”

Coming to a skidding stop next to you, he grasped the basket and slipped it off your back with ease. 

You took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Fine! Fine, just bruised knees and ego...” you assured him.

“What were you thinking?!” He tore into you, “You could have broken your neck! Or ruined a whole barrel of apples! Then what would I do?! This job doesn’t come with health insurance for Christ's sakes!” Running his hands through his curly, brown hair he let out a huff of air and walked over to where your ladder lay on the ground.

“Un-be-fucking-lievable!” You called out, incredulously. While trying to get to your feet, to march over and wag your finger in his face, you put too much pressure on your injured wrist that caused pain to scream down your arm.

You managed to mask the cry of pain as a cry of frustration and got to your feet. Surreptitiously cradling your hand against your chest, you grabbed another basket and walked past Frankie to start climbing the ladder again. Looking at the ground so he wouldn’t see the tears of pain in your eyes, you mumbled, “I’ll be more careful, alright? I’m sorry.”

Stopping your ascent with a hand on your arm he stuttered out what might have been the beginning of an apology but he couldn’t quite seem to put the right words together so he just cleared his throat.

“Just...” he said in a much softer tone, “just be more careful. Okay? I can’t lose my best worker.” 

The lame joke made you smile despite yourself. 

“Employee of the month,” you replied in a dry tone, “hurrah.” 

You shared wry smiles while a silent apology passed between the two of you. His dark brown eyes held a warmth to them you had never noticed before. Their hue reminding you of every tree in the orchard from the early light to the sunset, golden flecks reminiscent of the sun. His face, weathered from so much time spent outdoors, was marked with laugh lines, worry lines, and a small scar gracing his left cheek. 

Your eyes wandered past the scar to note how long his scruffy facial hair had grown and how it had started to obscure those pleasantly pouty lips. 

Then, with a start, you realized you were staring at this infuriating man’s lips like a hormonal teenager. With an embarrassed squeak, you quickly scurried up the ladder, hooking your elbow around each rung to avoid any more pressure on your wrist.

To say Frankie was coping well with having someone around would be a gross overstatement. 

It’s not that he didn’t like the company or wanted to be alone. The problem was that he was starting to like her company too much, to care too much. And caring too much had been the root cause of all Frankie’s sorrows.

First, there had been his Dad, trying to impress the man who never even wanted kids. Then the force, always feeling like he needed to prove himself and desperate for praise. After that was his wife, ex-wife, and trying to be someone he wasn’t so she would stay interested and in love. The pressure created by caring about these people and the expectations they had for him drove him to abuse drugs. Then his friends came calling and Frankie went against his gut because they had cared so deeply about something and he had cared deeply for them.

His wife, his kid, his family, his job, his friends. He had cared more than they did and he had come away worse off. At least now he was clean and sober, and was very aware of the irony of him now making and selling an alcoholic drink.

No, it was best to stay alone. He loved too freely and put too much stock in being loved back and every. single. time. it hurt him.

So, he closed himself off from you. Initially, he didn’t think it was going to be an issue, especially considering how you two had met. But then he found himself smiling at your stories, idly leaning against a branch so he could watch your graceful moments. He hated watching you leave, knowing you were going home to that piece of shit house that he should really be fixing up for you.

He recognized the signs and nipped them in the bud; working farther away, replying to questions with the fewest possible words, focusing purely on work, and maintaining a professional relationship. It pained him to push you away but deep down he knew it was best for the both of you.

Which brings him back to this moment.

Frankie was too stunned to notice your awkward climb up the ladder. Standing there, dumbly, for another few seconds. Wondering, all the way back to the idling tractor, what the hell had just happened.

One minute he was just driving the tractor minding his own business and the next he was having a mild heart attack after seeing his only worker laying limp on the ground. Then, after arguing like usual, you had shared a...a moment and stared at his mouth almost long enough to tempt him to use it.

Part Four

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[daegall]

Safe Haven

pairing: runaway! Donghyuck x runaway! reader

genre: ....fluf?? i dont really know for this one

warnings: umm i think not...

word count: 1.4k words

a/n: OH GOSH I FINALLY MADE A PART 4!! probably the last part so enjoy all 4 parts of the runaway! AU!!

networks: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kokonomi

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv

You didn’t think you would last this long without getting caught, but you somehow managed to keep hidden and not be recognized by people.

Of course, there were people who suspected you were runaways, but you’d quickly change the subject and leave before they would realize anything. It was tiring.

You walk out of yet another motel, quickly jogging down the stairs before the owner could come out and question you two further about your identities. It was only a matter of time before these people would report you.

You’ve gone across the city, constantly looking for places to stay and work without any ID until you save up enough to get out. It wasn’t working so well with the fact that you had no ID.

Donghyuck nudges you with his hip playfully, smiling at your pouty face, “Come on, cheer up babe!”

A small smile grows fondly on your face at the nickname you still haven’t grown used to, you really are glad that he’s keeping his spirits up for you. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be breaking down every few hours. You bump his hip back with yours, “Where to next?”

Your next destination is further from the central city than you thought, almost near the edge where it meets with smaller houses and cafes. It’s quite the long journey, but you’re ready.

Walking would be the best choice for you two usually, but for a place this far, you’d rather take a taxi. It’s risky, but as long as you stay guarded you’re sure you can manage.

A yellow taxi pulls up in front of you with ease after just a few minutes of waiting and calling for one, the driver inside smiling politely at you. With a small and quiet greeting from Donghyuck, you two climb in the back seat and instantly settle down on the seats. You haven’t been in a car for so long.

“Where to?”

You doze off as Donghyuck mumbles the address of the new motel you plan to check out, leaning to show the driver the place on the maps. You don’t realize with how tired and comfortable you are, but he bites his lip in an attempt to hold back a knowing smile.

He has an idea of who you two are.

Donghyuck flops back into the leather seat, sighing at the sensation of finally resting on something comfortable without having to worry about anything. His head rests on the window, as it shakes and vibrates with every inch the car travels. The runaway closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the nostalgic feeling of being in a car.

Donghyuck’s eyes trail back to your peaceful form, smiling gently at the sight of you finally relaxing too. He knows how worried and stressed you’ve been lately, and it relieves him that you’re at least enjoying a little bit of the trip.

He lazily crashes his fingers with yours, folding them together warmly. You can only find the strength to smile at such action. It was only a matter of time until you completely fell asleep.

The driver looks through the mirror, glancing at your very content expressions. He makes a sudden left turn, onto a different road, a different route to a different motel.

He knows this motel you’re planning to go to, he too was once a runaway, and that motel was not good for runaways. The people who work there like to catch runaways just for the reward money.

He’s decided to help you two out.

The motel he drives you to is further out of the city, in the border is more like it. He knows someone there who will help, for the man himself helped him escape from his life.

He reminisces on the time when he had so much hope and compassion for his future, he remembers his motivation to run away. It’s not like he can achieve that dream now.

The driver smiles when he catches sight of the familiar lonely motel, pulling up into the entrance. He turns to see you two deep in sleep, faced away from each other but keeping your hands connected. He almost doesn’t want to wake you up.

The owner of the motel walks in front of the car, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes onto his friend, the driver, “Ten!”

The man was too immersed in observing your raw states in his car to notice the other man standing in front of his car, jumping at the sudden voice calling out to him, “Jesus christ, Johnny!”

- ceot -

You gulp nervously and tighten your hand in Donghyuck’s as you eye the front desk of the motel, the big golden letters shining with elegance ‘Safe Haven’.

This wasn’t the motel you were supposed to be brought to. Gnawing harshly at your lip, you turn to Donghyuck, who still seems to be half asleep and very much confused. He turns to the driver, who is still yet to unload all of your stuff, “This is not the place we wanted to go to.”

Ten shrugs and places your duffle bag on top of Donghyuck’s, “Oh, I know.” Your grow confused and surprised at his words. “That motel isn’t that nice to runaways.”

“Oh, w-we’re not-“

“Oh please,” The man scoffs, “I’m sure a runaway can recognize another.”

You grow speechless at his words, freezing in your spot as you blink up at him. He’s a runaway?

The stranger offers a genuine smile, gesturing to the man at the other side of the room. “His father took me in when I was still a minor, and now with his father in another country, he’s doing the same thing. He’s saved so many people.”

You can’t help but feel so thankful for the stranger, heart swelling in gratitude at someone so helpful and generous.

The man notices you talking, and yells out a quick greeting and a wave, “Hi! I’m Johnny, owner of Safe Haven! You guys can stay here for as long as you’d like.”

Donghyuck turns to you abruptly upon hearing such great news, the smile itching on his face feeling just as contagious to you, and you feel the upcoming curling of the corner of your lips. “R-really? You don’t mind us staying here?”

The tall man quickly approaches and ventures to the back of the counter, quickly skimming for some free room keys and passing you the silver item with what seems like no care in the world. He leans on the counter and frowns.

“I’m sorry if the room’s not too good. Jaehyun is supposed to be on duty right now, and he knows which room is best for who. I’m guessing he’s with Yuta. You can come back and change rooms if you want!”

You gape at the key, and carelessness of Johnny as he stares at you with anticipation. “Wha- how much will it be?”

The man hisses, “It’s bound to be a lot if you want to pay,” you wince as well. “But, if you’re staying here for a long time, I suggest you work for Taeyong.” Johnny says as he plays with one of his rings. “My friend.” He adds when he realizes you have no idea who Taeyong is. “He owns a cafe just in the city. You can work there with the others until you wish to leave and pay everything you owe us.”

It’s perfect, this is your chance. You can successfully run away with Donghyuck and free yourselves from your hectic lives.

You start to laugh in happiness, blinking away the small beads of tears at the corner of your eyes. Donghyuck can’t seem to keep in his excitement as well, wiping quickly at his wet cheek, nodding frantically. “Y-yes! We’ll work hard!”

Johnny smiles, yet another life he’s saved.

“T-thank you so much, Johnny!” You can’t stop the tears running down your cheeks, with the overwhelming sensation of finally being given a chance to be free, and being able to take it, nothing can stop your tears from ascending your pulled cheeks.

Your minds feels nothing but relief as Donghyuck wipes off your tears from your face, grasping the key tight in his palm. This key is a key to your new room you will be soon calling home, the key to everything good that’s going to happen, the key to your freedom.

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