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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

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The Perfect Family

Alpha!Bokuto x Beta!reader x Beta!Akaashi

Author’s Note : If you’ve read the little drabbles and asks with the fluffy BokuAka family, then you’re in for a surprise. Those were not canon to the actual works I created, it was just something nice to write and think about. This will not start off fluffy at all. This will also include the pregnancy process, so be warned of that ; This is a sequel to my Kinktober piece, Threesome with Bokuto and Akaashi ; I’m so sorry it took for fucking ever

Warnings: Omegaverse, noncon/dubcon (explicit use of the word r*pe), gun play, choking, water torture (attempted drowning), gaslighting, manipulation, watersports (briefly, kind of), mindbreak, dumbification, pregnancy, creampie(s), asphyxiation, lactation, knotting, breeding (technically), degradation

Kōtarō’s rut had finally ended, pumping you full and fucking you into a stupor, all while Keiji made sure to have him give you a break. It was the week for you and Kōtarō to catch up, after all. You were bonded to Kōtarō and Keiji now, you were their mate, so you had to be taken care of. With the stinging pain on your shoulder from Kōtarō’s mark, you were only missing the legal document to bind you to Keiji the normal, Beta way. Keiji was currently thinking about which ring to get you, since Kōtarō had already decided on his “proposal” gift. Keiji figured you’d need time to adjust, however, as he was laying on the couch with Kōtarō’s arms wrapped around him, you missing. There was a cute show that they were watching, Keiji was sure you’d like it. You weren’t allowed out of the bedroom yet, so he would have to show it to you another time.

Once Kōtarō had been satisfied and Keiji had recovered, both got to work on making your stay permanent. You attempted to leave, but Keiji was quick to cuff you. Kōtarō held you down, forcing you to struggle until there was nothing left to do except lay there. Kōtarō had to go back to Osaka soon, so he was trying to enjoy his last few days in Tokyo.

“That was a fun show. Cute, too,” his yawning interrupted his sentence, cutting it short. Keiji nodded in response, snuggling closer to Kōtarō. The Alpha was warm and comfortable, it gave him a sense of home. “I gotta go back tomorrow, Akaashi,”

“I know, Bokuto-san,” Keiji sighs, knowing he’d have to work on their new pet by themselves. It was going to be a struggle. At the beginning of the week, you were so pliant and easily coerced into things. Now, you wouldn’t look or talk to them. Kōtarō threw a fit yesterday, screaming and crying because you weren’t the same person, you were much more distant. It’s the same when it comes to Keiji, however. You only looked at him with betrayal and sadness, even then only looking at him briefly. You exhausted yourself, but you were fighting them. Distancing yourself and giving them the silent treatment. It made Kōtarō not want to leave, you being so upset at him, but he didn’t have a choice.

Kōtarō needed to find a new place for everyone to live, of course. With the high probability of you becoming pregnant, you couldn’t be living in Tokyo, hours away from your alpha. Knowing you would be carrying his pups without him around had Kōtarō growling, Keiji gently patting his arm. Kōtarō calmed down at that, indulging in the calming scent of Keiji. Keiji has already been bonded to him, so it wouldn’t be as stressful if he wasn’t bonded — you were both his mates and therefore, you could be trusted in Keiji’s care. It was still hard to go. He didn’t want to leave with the state you were in.

“What place were you thinking about?” Keiji mused, running his finger in a pattern on Kōtarō’s arm. Just something to do as he mentally planned for the upcoming weeks. The type of house would determine how long those weeks would be.

“Some place big, but close by the gym and practice gym. Maybe traditional? I’ve always wanted to live in a traditional, zen kind of house,” Kōtarō’s eyes lit up as he talked, images and scenes of a large house full of his lovers and his children, playing volleyball in the yard. Keiji smiles at that, knowing it would be at least a month. Enough time to have you positively pregnant and to get you settled into your new role. It’d take effort, of course it would, but he could do it.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Bokuto-san,”

“Ya know, we really gotta get used to calling each other by our given names. You’re gonna be a Bokuto, aren’t’cha?”

“Well, of course I am. Just like [Y/N]. We’ll be the Bokuto family,” he sighs, closing his eyes as the name settles in his mind. The Bokuto family has a nice ring to it, he thinks.

Kōtarō spends his last night cuddling you to sleep. You want no part of it, lying stiff as a board as he presses kisses to your neck and rubs his hand over your stomach. It’s a sickening thought, the possibility of getting pregnant. If you really had been ovulating during the rut, you most likely were pregnant. It’s not like you’d know or not, you barely leave the bed to urinate. It’s disgusting to have to deal with, but even when you do get the bathe and do your business, Keiji is right next to you, ready to intervene if necessary. Although Kōtarō is often in there with you, lathering up your body as his touches become less innocent, Keiji’s stone-cold gaze forces you to not attempt anything silly.

When the morning comes, Kōtarō is desperate to keep something of yours until he can see you again. In order to keep him happy, you acquiesce to his demands and let him take your used clothes, yet to be washed. As if the lingering scent of the morning sex isn’t still clinging to his skin. You can’t smell it, nor Keiji, but you know it’s there as you watch him dress himself, tucking himself away as he rambles on about his plans for the future. Three kids for him, two for Keiji, a nice big house, just the ideal lifestyle for anyone. It’ll never happen, though. His delusions will soon shatter when you stay distant and refuse to love him or Keiji.

Keiji waves goodbye to you, saying he’ll come back when he’s done with work. He plans on taking Kōtarō to the train station and then going to work, so you’ll be stuck for the next few hours. Until dinner time, that is. After an hour, you hear a ping from your phone and reach over to look at it. You can still use your phone, of course, but any possibility of calling for help is useless. In this society, nobody would help you. Not only that, your phone is bugged and linked to Keiji’s. He knows when you unlock your phone, what you do at what time, and how long you’re on it. You’re almost positive he can shut it off if he wants to.

The noise is a message from Kōtarō, telling you he misses you already. A roll of the eyes as you lock it, setting it beside you again. You’re able to barely reach the table beside the bed, but none of the drawers. One hand is secured to the headboard, wooden and strong enough to withstand Kōtarō’s ruthless rut. You feel restless as the day has only begun, the next time you will be able to move out of the bed, if at all, will be when Keiji comes home.

The doorknob to the apartment jiggles, making you jump. Keiji should’ve gone to work, so the sudden noise was unexpected. When it finally turns, you expect to see the familiar hair of your former friend, the tousled raven hair and the broad build. Although the man has the proper stature, the hoodie covering his head and the cheap-looking mask covering his face prevent you from properly identifying him. You can’t tell if he’s smirking or not, the intense feeling that he’s giving off tells you he is. With your hand secured to the bed, you really don’t have much in the way of options. The phone is still an option, but you doubt you could get to it in time.

The man lunges towards you, spurring you to attempt to grab the phone. Your fingers brush the metal device before your arm is forcefully gripped and twisted. You scream as your body twists, attempting to lessen the pain. It’s useless, but you still try. When your mouth opens, he quickly shoves something round and hard in it, your tongue pressed against the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t move a muscle,” his voice was low and hoarse, as if he was adjusting it to hide his identity. It was still unfamiliar to you, your brain unable to register what was going on. The man easily overpowers you, using his weight to keep you pinned to the bed. Fear prickles your skin, the chill setting in deep into your bones despite the lingering warmth of the fading Summer heat. It’s a horrible feeling, frozen in fear as your mind races, unable to do anything except stay still. It’s horrible, the fact you listen to the stranger’s demands despite wishing you were dead and out of Kōtarō and Keiji’s grasps. The gun is removed from your mouth, but the knowledge of it being in his possession is enough to keep you compliant, barely acknowledging the man’s hands moving to slip under the dress you were kindly given.

To keep yourself ready and easily accessible to both Keiji and Kōtarō until they had to part, it was best to slip you into a plain and simple white sundress. It was a present from Kōtarō, a small way of saying you were his now. With the lack of panties or other undergarment, you were essentially naked to the intruder as he sat on his heels, dark eyes scanning over your form. You were shaking from the fear, the unknown, but you weren’t attempting to move or thrash about. It was so easy to take advantage of you, you already nice and wet for him, too. The slick buildup from the morning session with Kōtarō lingers, as well as the creamy substance of his seed fucked into you. Unless the intruder was an Alpha, he couldn’t do much damage, but the thought of leaving you alone without a touch, a taste, was too unbearable.

It didn’t take long for the feeling of something hard and thick to push against your folds, collecting slick and teasing, your sensitivity making you whimper at the touch. It was a sudden plunge, forcing himself deep into your cunt as he groaned, your walls clenching around him. You thought the groan sounded familiar, but there was no more time to think on it when he put his hand on your throat, effectively shutting off proper access to your lungs. Your walls tighten again around him, him finding it hard to retract his hips but thrusting back in. His pace isn’t too fast, but his thrusts are brutal as he continues to drive his cock into your sensitive and abused pussy. He’s not an Alpha, you can tell by the lack of an inflating knot, but it still remains that you’re being violated by an unknown man. The whimpers coming from your throat are all you can release, barely sucking in air to stay conscious. When your vision starts to fade, the man and the walls of the room slowly blurring together, you start to panic.

The gun is still beside you, but it’s not your concern. The bullet in the chamber can’t threaten you unless the barrel’s against your head, but the hand currently cutting off oxygen is threatening your life. Attempting to dig your nails into the fabric of the hoodie is useless, his work gloves keeping his hands from getting any marks, either. Your lungs burn from lack of air and your vision slowly fades to black, a heat and chill settling over your body at the same time as you continue to feel his body pinning you down. The brutal fucking is the only sensation you still have, the stinging of your skin as he snaps his hips to meet yours and the squelching sounds from your sloppy pussy, cum and slick spurting and coating his cock as he chases his own high. You don’t know if he finished inside, your sensations dying out as you slip into unconsciousness.

When you wake up, your lungs ache and your face feels wet. When you flutter your eyes open, you’re faced with the creamy beige walls of Keiji’s bedroom, the lamp and phone on the bedside table. A presence is beside you, a large hand gently brushing your hair. Your eyes widen as you jolt, Keiji gently shushing you as he holds you. It’s comforting, someone familiar beside you after the experience you just had. You don’t know what happened after everything went black, but the smell of Keiji’s morning coffee and his cologne calm you down, tears spilling out as your fists bunch up the fabric of his shirt.

“I had a bad feeling, so I immediately came back home. I didn’t expect you to be completely unconscious, what did you do?” He asked, oblivious to what had really transpired. It was painful to recall, the fear from before rising again as you remember the man’s stature, looming over you as he pinned you to the bed. Another fit of tears come, the droplets soaking the white of Keiji’s shirt. “Darling, you need to tell me what’s wrong. What-“

“A stranger,” a hiccup interrupted you, red and tired eyes looking to his face. He looks confused, so you need to press on. “He broke in. Violated me. He— he ra-“

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If I had known something so horrible would happen, I wouldn’t have left you all alone. You could’ve come with me, but you’ve been so naughty, you know,” his voice is gentle, but there’s a certain chill in his voice that has your fear spiking. His hands are warm, caressing your back as he speaks. “But, you know, you cheated on Bokuto-san and I. I have to punish you,”

“I— I didn’t do it on purpose!” Why were you defending yourself? Your mind had to momentarily adjust itself, the feeling of helplessness from earlier now back. Once the cuff had released the headboard, it was nothing for Keiji to force you into the bathroom. No amount of strength you had could compare to him, nor height. He wasn’t afraid to hurt you either, almost smashing your fingers in the door frame because you wouldn’t let go. “Akaashi, stop!!”

“Akaashi? Now, we can’t have that. You should address me properly, dear,” he grips your face, smushing your cheeks together as you find yourself practically flung into the tub. It’s already full of hot water, almost scalding, as he holds your head under. Struggling once more, it’s futile. His strength far surpasses yours, stature looming over you. Under the water, his image is distorted, but the way he looks down at you feels familiar. Before that thought can continue, you feel your lungs burning as you thrash again, thoughts only focused on surviving. When your head is pulled up, you gulp air as you cough, water sputtering as you do. “You need to be punished.”

“Let me go, I didn’t do anythi-“ your head is once more under the water, nails digging into the flesh of Keiji’s arms as he holds you still. You didn’t get a good gulp of air, so you’re quickly back at the previous feeling of helplessness as your lungs burn, vision blurring. Before everything goes black, you’re once more pulled from the water. Your face is hot, either from lack of air or the heat of the bathroom and water, you’re not too sure. But Keiji is sure of one thing and that’s the way you’re clinging to him. You were digging your nails into him, squirming and attempting to leave, but now your nails were digging into his as your grip tightened around his forearm. You were clinging to him, unconsciously seeing him as your savior, as he was the one who controlled your ability to breathe, therefore your life. He could drown you if he wanted to, but Kōtarō wouldn’t like that. No, he just needed you to depend on him, change your stance on how you saw your lovers.

Keiji also couldn’t help how delicious you looked, drenched as steam rose from the water, your white dress floating around you as if you were an ethereal being. You looked angelic and untainted... an urge to corrupt you washed over him, compelling his body into the steaming water. It was a tight fit, but he managed. With his sweatpants on, it was easy for him to simply push down the waistband and pull out his cock. “Now I have to cover up that man’s scent, or do you want everyone to know you’re a whore?”

“Akaashi, enough, this isn’t any diff-“

“Are you saying I’m a rapist? That’s what you’re implying, right? If you really think that, then I’ll be that. I would never purposefully hurt you,” his words contradict his actions, his hard cock pressing into your walls as he speaks. Sensitivity still lingers, your legs twitching as he sinks down to the hilt. “You’re saying I’m the bad guy, aren’t you? Well, how about I be the bad guy? Let’s recreate the scenario,”

“Akaashi, please, stop!” You cry out, weak limbs attempting to push him off. Hot, fat tears stream down your cheeks as Keiji licks them away, kissing their trails as you continue to sob at the feeling. It was a horrible feeling, being helpless, but a part of you knew you were safe. Keiji wouldn’t let you die, the only thing that prevented you from putting more effort in. Even with the splashing water, he kept one hand on the back of your head to prevent you from going under. Keiji’s pace is always the same — slow strokes, but deep and meaningful as he rocks his hips into yours and makes sure to roll his hips. It’s a completely opposite of Kōtarō’s, brutal and relentless, but Kōtarō fils you out more. Keiji has to make sure you feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse from his cock and have it completely engraved into your mind.

When Keiji gets close, he holds you closer to him, kissing your neck as your hands grasp at the tub’s edges, mind reeling from the force of your orgasms. Your nerves are on fire, your walls constantly clamping around Keiji’s cock like a vice, all while he rides out his own high. He presses a sweet kiss to the mark on your neck, where it meets your shoulder, right where he sports a matching mark on his own skin. It’s Kōtarō’s bond, what links him to the two of you forever. With a final thrust, Keiji spills deep inside you as he kisses you deeply, forcing you to swallow his moan of pleasure as he swallows your mewls. You’re still tight around him, walls fluttering pathetically around his girth as he relishes in the way you feel, keeping his seed locked inside you.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both panting heavily, chests heaving for different reasons. “There. Now he’s gone,” a gentle kiss on your temple. With those words, a silence settles over the room. Although the stranger may be gone, in his place stands Akaashi Keiji.

The next day, Keiji is home.

“Just a precaution, dear,” he had said. “So nothing else bad will happen to you when I’m not here. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” With those words, he convinced you of his intentions. The previous day’s events had you rattled, the fear of being alone subconsciously rooted into your mind. A small whimper of Keiji’s name, his given name, had him smiling and cooing at you, taking you anywhere in the apartment you wanted to go. It was nice to finally leave the bedroom and bathroom sections, seeing the front room and kitchen, able to hear and see people outside the windows. You dare not let your eyes linger too long on the windows, covered completely with only shadows passing by, nor on the door. The door which had a recently newly installed lock, to take extra precautions. A passing thought of how it seemed to be so quickly enforced comes by, leaving as you become hyper aware of the blank gaze Keiji gives you. It’s not blank, per se. It looks blank to many bystanders, but to you, you know he’s focusing. He’s watching you and analyzing what you do. It’s a test.

A test you seem to have passed, when he calls you back for a bath. He doesn’t guide you there, no threats, just a simple “Come along,” as he walks towards the same bathroom he almost drowned and violated you in. The fear and anxiety of going back has your flight or fight response kicking in, the seemingly easy option of flinging the door open and leaving has your legs moving. But Keiji is quicker, stronger, and smarter than you. Before your fingertips can even graze the lock, your face is slammed into the floor.

“You were doing so well, too,” his feet are planted on either side of you, one moving to plant itself on your back. With a bit of force, you’re screaming as he has his heel pushing into your spine. “You deserve to be punished.”

“Fuck you, Akaashi!” You spit, squirming and wriggling to get him off. When his foot moves, you attempt to get up, but soon he drops down and fists your hair in one hand, the other pushing your cheeks together.

“I should wash that dirty mouth of yours,” he growls, shoving your face against the floor. By shoving, he essentially drops you into the floor. With a burning sensation in your nose, you feel a vaguely familiar liquid trickling out, a small red dot beneath you. He does it once more, making sure to keep his hand on your head to prevent you from getting up. “I trusted you to listen to me, [Y/N],”

“I’ll never listen to you,” you declare, hands balling into fists beside you. “I’ll never forgive you and Bokuto for what you did. I’ll never forgive or forget how you raped me, either!”

“I did no such thing. You enjoyed it, whore. You clamped around me like a vice last night, just as you probably did the stranger that violated you. Can it be consider violation if you were wet? What about when you started to enjoy it?”

“How would you know that, unless-“

“I know how much of a slut you can be, sleeping around with Alphas in high school and other Betas. You probably got off on being raped,” He sneers, putting more force in his hand, making it uncomfortable as your cheek is smushed against the floor.

“Fuck you,”

“I’ll take that as a yes. As a punishment, you won’t be leaving that bedroom for some time,” he finally lets you free, a large breath of air inhaled as you realize he was putting his weight on your lungs. “Come here,”

Wrenched from the ground, you find yourself dragged, kicking and screaming, back into the bedroom where Keiji cuffs you to the headboard. He’s huffing, but he manages to get both wrists cuffed to the headboard. Back to square one, with you refusing to acknowledge him while he tries to talk. Well, he does talk, you’re forced to listen.

When dinner time comes around, you expect some plain chicken broth or maybe even water, but instead you’re given nothing. Keiji doesn’t come in the room at all. The water running let’s you know he’s washing dishes, but where’s your meal? When his humming enters the room, you know he’s coming down. When he opens the door, in his hand lays a plate with bread crust and crumbs, along with some pocky sticks. Just two, however. Barely considered a meal. “Dinner!”

“You’re kidding me,”

“Dear, you know I don’t joke around easily. You were naughty this afternoon, so you’re going to eat my leftovers. Bread crust and some stale pocky sticks is the only thing on your menu,”

“I’ll starve instead,” a glare sent his way does frazzle him one bit, instead almost makes him... chippier. As if you’re falling for his well hidden trap. A nod and he’s gone, your only source of food with him. He won’t enter to room again until nighttime, so you’re left to wallow in your own solitude, something you used to take for granted.

When Keiji does finally come into the room, you’re excited to see him before remembering you don’t like him. Instead of taking the key and releasing your restraints to sleep, he grabs his pillow, his blanket, and his phone charger. “Where are you going?”

“Well, since you obviously hate me, I thought it’d be best that I leave you alone. After all, that is what you wanted, yes?” A small smirk is on his face as your eyes widen, thoughts running through your head as he takes his leave. Without a bid goodnight, Keiji leaves you alone in the room. With no possible entertainment except your mind, you feel uneasy. Unsteady. The world is suddenly dropping you off in an empty room with nothing and you can’t think of anything to keep yourself entertained. The television set buzzes to life outside, while the popping of popcorn fills your ears along with the melted butter smell. An urge to move flits around, but you decide it is best to not.

The next day, it’s a similar situation. Within three days of Kōtarō’s leave, you’ve found yourself craving his company more than ever. Keiji is ruthless and merciless, entering the bedroom for clothes and then leaving for work. He doesn’t talk to you, he doesn’t look at you, he barely enters the room anymore. You feel your stomach grumble at the thought of food, your mouth dry from the lack of fluids in your system. A pathetic way to die, one would think. With the lack of nutrition, your body will eventually decay or fall into an unstable state. Keiji isn’t a dunce, he knows this — at least, he should. Why then, you wonder, is he allowing this? Not only are you completely attached to the bed, but you haven’t been able to get up at all, even for bathroom use. The urine has stained the sheets, turning the pristine white cotton into a grimy yellow color, the ammonia stench covering the entire bedroom. You felt like a helpless child, in dire need of your parents to come home.

In a way, that’s what it was. You were helpless and needed someone else’s help. You need Keiji’s help. You can only go so long before you end up breaking, and you’ve reached a limit. The disgusting liquid under you was the final thread, the squelching and squeezing every time your hips move to a different area to attempt to leave the spot resulting in a failed attempt. The white dress was soaked, first from the bathroom incident and now it was dyed yellow due to your own fluids. Kōtarō wouldn’t be happy with those results.

When Keiji finally comes home, you hear him. You hear the door close and a sigh. Waiting for him to enter the room is quickly disregarded as you call for him. With no hesitation, he arrives at the room, looking at you. “You called, darling?”

“Keiji, please. I’m sorry I was bad. I need you, please don’t leave me,” you cry out, pulling on the cuffs. Shushing you, he quickly attends to your wrists, red and raw from the tugging, pulling, and twisting you’ve done over the past day. Once one hand is free from the restraint, he’s happy to feel it grabbing his shoulder, a silent beg to not leave. “Kei-“

“I know, I know. I won’t hurt you,” his words calm you down, sobs turning into hiccups as he guides you off the bed. Your legs are weak, unstable from lack of use, so he bridal carries you into the bathroom, not caring about the urine. After setting you on the toilet, he strips you of your dress and starts the bath. Trusting you to not move, he leaves. Another test, to see if you’ve really shaped up after the last attempt.

Keiji stands in the bedroom, pulling the sheets off the bed and removing the pad. He puts them aside, but waits. No movement from the bathroom, not even the toilet seat squeaking or the shutting off of the water. Continuing to put the sheets and dress away, he picks out a set of panties — new and clean, a treat for being good — to go with the pastel pink sundress. It looks exactly like the other one, except the color. After getting a towel and a change of clothes himself, he leaves.

You’re still sitting on the toilet, looking at him as he enters. Perking up, you push into the hand the caresses your head, brushing the tangled hair. He stops the water, guiding you into the tub. Once you’re settled, he strips down and joins you.

“You’re not going to hurt me?” You ask, voice dull.

“Of course not. When have I ever done that?”

The next day is such an improvement, Keiji can’t help but let Kōtarō know how well you’ve adjusted. You’re compliant out of fear rather than love, but Kōtarō doesn’t know that. He’s so excited to see a picture of you cooking in the kitchen, he probably wouldn’t care. The picture doesn’t capture the longing look at the knives, the fleeting glances at the door, the rigidness of your body as Keiji wraps his arms around you. It’s small gestures, but you never move to accomplish the action. Your finger might twitch, a gulp as you see the unlocked door, but you continue on. You make the noodles, you bring the tray to Keiji, you sit in his lap and allow the arms to secure your place. The food is something you’re ever thankful for, the lack of food spurring your resilience into breaking. With a gentle blow, Keiji feeds you the ramen you dutifully prepared for the both of you all day.

You never looked at the door again. You never looked at the knives unless you were cutting something. Even with Keiji breathing down your neck, eyes focused on your hands, you didn’t twitch or move to hurt him. You went to the bathroom and didn’t complain when he joined you. Even when he had to do his little daily checkup, you didn’t complain. The first time, you mentioned it tickled and questioned what he was doing, sticking his nose between your legs as he pried them open. He just smiled and said he needed to know if you were healthy, to which your questions easily stopped. Although he occasionally swept his tongue over your still wet folds, you never told him to go away and leave you alone. Even when he went further and had put you on the bathroom’s countertop before diving between your legs once more, your fingers thread themselves through his hair as you moaned.

When the news of Kōtarō coming back reached your ears, you didn’t know how to feel. Keiji was the one to help you, give you comfort, so you didn’t feel too excited to see Kōtarō. Keiji knew this would cause problems, as Kōtarō was expecting you to be as loving to him as you were to Keiji. After an explanation of the situation, you promised to perform appropriately for Kōtarō. With a whispered threat of locking you up again, you easily complied with everything you were asked to do. When Kōtarō came through the door, he was easily able to catch you as you jumped on him. “Welcome back!”

“Aw, [Y/N]! I’m glad to be back!” He nuzzled into your neck, indulging in your scent. You could easily pretend to be in love with Kōtarō, but your scent would tell him if you were feeling off. With his superior senses, you had to be forced into a mindset where you did love Kōtarō. Threats and memories of the past had could nodding along, situating yourself into his life easily. “I missed you, a lot,”

“Well, we won’t have to be gone for so long again, right?” You ask, a pout forming. “Or are you going to leave me?”

“Oh, no! You’re gonna live with me,” he grins, a closed eye smile. Your eyes widen as the information is processing, Keiji coming from the kitchen.

“It was a surprise for you. We’ll be moving to Osaka to be close to Bokuto-san,” he’s drying a knife, one he recently finished washing, but it’s also a silent threat. Kōtarō didn’t see the horrified look on your face, but he sure did.

“O-Oh. Okay! I can’t wait, when are we.. when do we move?” Twiddling your fingers, Kōtarō wraps his arms around you once more, effectively picking you up. No hesitating, your legs wrap around his waist as he looks up at your face, love flooding his eyes.

“You’ll move in with me tomorrow. Once Akaashi’s boxed everything up, he’ll join us. Our room is all set up, and there’s lots of rooms for kids. Speaking of-!”

“Another time, Bokuto-san,” Keiji harshly whispered, Kōtarō’s eyes widening before smiling, nodding. You didn’t know what that was, but you then focused on Kōtarō moving to the couch.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving! Maybe I can have something special for dessert, if you know what I mean,” with an added eyebrow wiggle, you shyly smile and nod. It’s what Keiji told you would please Kōtarō. It’s what Keiji told you that you need to do.

The dinner itself is fine, but when you ask to use the restroom, Kōtarō points out the red splotches on your white dress. Panicking, you attempt to locate the spot as your face heats up in embarrassment. Keiji then points out the bit of blood on Kōtarō’s pants, making you think your cycle has started. At that mention, Kōtarō’s growling in anger as you seize up in fear, unsure of what to do. Keiji tells you to change while he deals with Kōtarō, you immediately obeying and going to the bedroom.

“I thought ovulating meant she would get pregnant. Why isn’t she pregnant? Were you wrong?” Kōtarō asks, still angry. He knows he scared you, your lingering scent of fear in the room and around him. He thought he could smell another scent on you, but he didn’t know what it could be.

“Bokuto-san, I know this is frustrating but it’s possible she didn’t get pregnant. However, spotting is a sign of pregnancy. It was only a few drops. If she has anymore blood leakage that gets heavy tonight, we’ll know,” Keiji is able to calm down Kōtarō, who rolls his shoulders back and lies against the back of the couch. “Do you want to change your jeans?”

“Nah, it’s barely noticeable. Plus,” a thumb runs over the denim, Kōtarō licking his lips as his eyes darken, “this is like she’s claiming me, right?”

Kōtarō does not force himself on you that evening. Instead, he just cuddles you that night. It’s a differing touch than Keiji’s, who ends up rolling to the other side of the bed in the night. Kōtarō holds you close and tightly all night, snuggling closer to you, as if it was possible, and nudging his nose in your neck. It’s sweet, you think, as he caresses you like you’re made of glass.

The next morning, Kōtarō has you properly dressed to leave with him. A set of panties, sweatpants, t-shirt, and a hoodie. It’s a casual set of clothes, but they are all you came to Keiji’s house in a week and a half ago. Kōtarō says he’ll get you better clothes once you’re settled in, but you feel uneasy as you bid goodbye to Keiji. He worries about your mental state once you’re alone with Kōtarō, but he just has to hope you’re able to seem stable enough for a day.

In Osaka, you feel like your life is beginning anew. It’s not much different from Tokyo, but as Kōtarō guides you through the streets, it becomes known that Osaka has a lot more greenery. It’s very beautiful, in your opinion. When he stops in front of an old house, you glance at him. “Our new home, sweetheart!” He cheers, kissing your cheek as he picks you up. Carrying you inside the house, you notice the security. The gate is only opened via pin entry, which the gate itself is roughly 2 meters tall. Even the door to the house requires thumbprint access, a very modern and technological touch in an older, traditional house.

He shows you to your room, which is also his room, but yours too. It has its modern touch, with the remaining aspect of futons to lay on. The cameras in the hallway also are in your view, the one in the bedroom and the hallway. Looking into each room, you notice they are containing cameras, but one room is different. “What’s this?”

“Oh? This is our nursery! So, when you have a baby, it’ll be in here,” he chirps, pointing out things in the room. Scanning the room, you notice the lack of camera secured.

“Where’s the camera?”

“What— what camera?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he fakes confusion. You see right through it.

“I noticed the other cameras. There’s not one here,”

“Oh, well, that’s because this room has baby monitors!” He gestures to the white device. A nod of understanding has the tour moving on. Showing you to the kitchen, you notice the pantry and fridge are stocked. “Would you make me dinner?”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“You, served hot and steaming in the bath,” he grins. Eyes widen as you realize what he wants, you sheepishly laughing as you acquiesce.

Kōtarō is much rougher than Keiji, you knew that, but the way he fucks you with fervor as he hasn’t seen you in almost five days is something akin to his rut. Sinking his teeth into your skin, remarking his territory as he spurs you into your first orgasm of the night. Your nails are digging into his broad shoulders, the only thing you can use to keep yourself grounded. The setting wasn’t in the bathroom, but rather the bedroom where he claimed he wanted to “seal the deal” of you coming home. Legs tighten around his waist, back arching as he continues to drive his cock into you and litter your neck with less painful marks, claiming already claimed territory. As he presses a wet, sloppy kiss against your lips, you scream as you tighten your walls, feeling his knot force its way inside you.

A warm hand rubs the side of your body as your walls convulse around him, squeezing as he pumps you full of his cum. It’s a memory to you, but it feels so warm and fulfilling, you immediately relax in his hold as he continues to pepper kisses along your body. It’s a comforting feeling, being praised and cared for, a drastic difference from the way Keiji treated you a few days ago. Well, how you think he treated you a few days ago. He said he never did it, but your body said differently. With Kōtarō’s eyes of love looking down on you, you didn’t think it mattered. That was in the past, this was the present. You felt comfortable here, that was what mattered.

When Keiji arrived with a bunch of boxes, you were told to make them lunch so they could eat when they were done. Kōtarō said he didn’t want you straining yourself after last night, so you agree to his demands. Deciding to make some udon for lunch, you get to work as they lug in the boxes. The boxes aren’t large nor heavy, but watching Kōtarō easily lift three of them with no effort, while Keiji brings in two at most with also no effort, you feel yourself get wet at the thought of them hot and sweaty afterwards. With a possible treat in mind, you work more diligently, mentally preparing yourself to ask them.

Keiji mentioned he’d be looking for another job while Kōtarō was at the gym. It would be the first time you would be alone and free to roam. You begged Keiji to not leave for too long, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he pried your hands off. Kōtarō gave you a sweet kiss before he left, telling you he’d try to hurry back, but you knew Keiji would get back first. Sitting in the large house, you didn’t know what to do except cook and sleep. Your phone screen lit up with a message from Kōtarō, a picture of him blowing you a kiss with a message of ‘I miss you!’ under it. You smile at that, sending back a message that you miss him, too.

Before you lock your phone, you look at the many games you have on it. There’s one game you don’t remember being on it, it looks like a tracker app. Clicking on it, it welcomes you and it shows how far along you are in.. pregnancy? First reaction is to panic, how do you know if you’re pregnant? Going into the internet app, you search up symptoms of pregnancy. One that jumps out to you is the spotting, only a little bit of blood as the sperm fertilizes the egg. It is most likely what you did on Kōtarō’s lap, the day he came to Tokyo. Another surge of panic comes as you think of your lovers, your mates. With Keiji looking for a new job and Kōtarō being busy with being a professional athlete, they don’t have time to take care of you and a baby. You decide to not tell them.

Although you decide to not tell them, the next week is excuses of your recent symptoms. You find yourself more exhausted than usual, not even getting out of bed to bid goodbye to Kōtarō and Keiji. Not only that, you end up in the bathroom as you feel sick, but only half of the times does something come up. It’s when you have another episode of morning sickness does Keiji pop the question. “Should I get a pregnancy test?”

“N-No! I’m not pregnant, just some bad sushi!” When Keiji’s grip on your arm gets tighter, you whimper. “Keiji, stop hurting me,”

“I’m not hurting you, I just need you to tell me the tru-“ the door shutting cuts him off, his attention to the door of the bathroom where Kōtarō is, panting.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it,”

“I’m just a bit sick-“ “She’s pregnant-“ You both speak at the same time. Your eyes widen as Keiji looks at you.

“Pregnant? Now? Really?” Kōtarō is ecstatic, but you don’t take it that way.

“I’m not, I promise! I’m sorry!” You beg. Kōtarō’s mood turns sour, the anger directed towards you. Keiji stands back, but he doesn’t interfere.

“Why are you lying to me? If Keiji says you are, then you are! I know you’re lying!” He kneels on the ground and grabs your shoulders, digging his meaty fingers into the flesh. You yelp in pain, attempting to get him off. “Why are you doing this?! You were doing so well!”

“Stop, Kō-chan, stop! You’re hurting me!” A call out of his childhood nickname has his rage quelling, as you brush his hands off and rub the stinging skin. “I don’t want to be pregnant,”

“This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what we want, do you understand that?” Keiji speaks, voice low and threatening. You quickly nod your head, attempting to explain yourself.

“I- I thought that you wouldn’t want a baby because you’re both busy! I don’t- I don’t want to burden you more than I do,” with your words, the anger and rage suddenly evaporates as they understand.

“Burden us? Baby, we love you and do everything for you. You’re going to be carrying my pups and Keiji’s babies, we want this. This is all I ever hoped for,” Kōtarō coos, taking your hands and pressing a kiss to them. A fit of sobs escape as you wrap your arms around him, hiccuping into his chest. Keiji sits and smiles, knowing you have completely adjusted into the proper role.

With the news of your pregnancy, Kōtarō is able to get off a lot more to be there for you. You’re no omega, so it’s not as if he has to take off for 9 months, and Keiji is there to take care of you. Keiji takes care of any appointments you need to do, signing you into a private hospital nearby where Kōtarō’s teammate’s omega gave birth. A list of what was normal was given to you and Keiji and what would be a cause for concern, so you made sure to drill into your head about the possible problems. It was vital that you were able to give birth, being able to give Kōtarō and Keiji what they wanted all you needed to take care of yourself. Keiji prepared your meals, making sure you were eating properly even before the bump showed.

When the bump became prominent, you were glad that your wardrobe consisted of dresses. The dresses you had were all loose-fitting and easy to move around in. With the upcoming winter months, you had lots of blankets and an oversized jacket, bearing Kōtarō’s MSBY number and logo. Kōtarō couldn’t keep his hands off of you, always rubbing your bump and pinching the extra fat you were putting on. Worry over the added weight was a brief concept that quickly evaporated as Kōtarō voiced how much he loves the extra meat to fondle and love, tickling you as you giggle afterwards. Keiji couldn’t say he disagreed with Kōtarō, the added weight adding to your cuteness charm as you did the most basic and minuscule things. He could disagree with Kōtarō on the obsession with the pregnancy milk, however.

Lactation was painful, the way your boobs ached as they were full of creamy milk. Although they ache, Kōtarō encouraged you to let him drink from them. Hesitation was in the beginning, but once his lips had secured themselves on your nipple and started sucking, it was quite relaxing. The tender ache in your breasts were gone as Kōtarō drank from them, but he often had to drink from both of them due to Keiji’s aversion. He didn’t see the appeal, he rather enjoyed teasing your nipples when the sexual appetite of yours had risen, but he didn’t see the appeal in drinking the milk. Keiji did oblige Kōtarō, however, in looking into lactation cookies, which would increase milk production and could even make it taste better. It was worth a try, as it would help the children to develop as you breastfed them.

The lactation cookies Keiji made looked awful, but tasted amazing. You would have eaten all of them had it not been for Keiji stopping you. Kōtarō seemed excited, immediately begging for another go. He’d have to wait until nighttime, since he often took naps after you breastfed him during the day.

At night, you often slept completely naked, able to easily feed Kōtarō if he woke up in the middle of the night. Your sex drive had risen exponentially in your second trimester, to the point Kōtarō had to request off to take care of you. He made sure to keep his promise, stuffing you with his thick cock and plugging you up with his cum or lapping at your folds until your fluids splashed against his face. With the third trimester underway, your libido has decreased while your milk had increased, but that didn’t deter Kōtarō from getting frisky. Even as Keiji bathed away from you two, he couldn’t help but touch himself to your whines and mewls.

Kōtarō has been riding a cloud since your pregnancy came about. Even before the milk, he found it hard to resist fucking you, especially with the added sensitivity. Your breasts were larger now, bouncing with every thrusts as he tweaks the nipples, watching the cream dribble from them. He can’t help himself, really, as he goes to attach himself to one of your perky buds. When Keiji enters the room, he chuckles at the sight.

“Should we worry that there won’t be enough milk for you and the baby?” He muses, sitting on the futon next to you. Your hand grasps at his silk shirt, bringing him down to give you a kiss. Even as Kōtarō drills into you, you want more. A wet pop resounds around the room as Kōtarō laughs, groaning in your ear as he plugs you with his knot, pumping you full.

“The pup can have those bottles, and with help of those miracle cookies, we should be fine. You sure you don’t want to at least try a bit? It feels nice for her, doesn’t it, my little Beta?” He coos, pressing kisses to your cheeks as you come down from your high, walls fluttering around Kōtarō’s cock.

“It relieves some pain, I’ll admit that,” you smile at Keiji. “You can try,”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” He smiles back at you, brushing hair out of your face. Kōtarō massages your breast, holding it so Keiji can attach his lips to the nipple. His eyes focus on the creamy liquid dripping from the bud, only to become transparent as it follows gravity. When he does get a taste, he knows he’s in trouble. It’s as delicious as Kōtarō said, creamy and full that makes you want more. As he sucks with fervor, you giggle and Keiji is joined by his other lover, suckling any milk he left behind. It’s such a strange thing to happen, both grown men sucking on your chest as if they had been born only recently. With the swell of your stomach, you knew they’d have to share their milky mine.

As your due date drew near, you found yourself unable to do anything alone. Kōtarō was off completely until you delivered and Keiji was no longer looking for a job, as it was decided Kōtarō made enough for everyone to live comfortably. He knew he’d have to find another job soon, as more children were born and needed to be fed, but that was a well ways off, at least 9 more months.

What started as a normal day soon turned to chaos as preparations for delivery expedited when your water broke. The hospital had your room prepared already, but it was for your week stay as you were three days away from your date. Kōtarō was in a frenzy, unsure of what to do but desperate to do something. Keiji has to drive to the hospital, while you were doing breathing exercises with Kōtarō in the back seat. It was the birth of their first child, so even Keiji was panicking, but he was also excited.

Once settled into the room, the nurses had to check to see how far along you were dilated. Kōtarō was anxious, his scent permeating the room as he started to pace. The doctor had come in, spurring him into a fighting mentality because the doctor was another Alpha. Keiji and a nurse had to get him out of the room, with a promise he could see the children once they were born, but he would have to wait in the waiting room. Weakly calling out his name and telling him you were fine, he obliged as he left, punching the wall once as he felt his emotions boil over. Keiji was by your side, holding your hand as you squeeze it, pushing when the doctor told you to.

When the room was filled with screaming, the clock chiming as 12:15 had arrived, signaling the date of birth of your first born son. With his stubby arms and legs, you laughed as you held him, Keiji getting the honor of cutting the cord. The baby still needed to be cleaned and checked over, so the doctor and nurses took him while Keiji went to get Kōtarō. By the time Kōtarō and Keiji has come back, you were holding a small, but still big, baby boy swaddled in a thick blanket. Kōtarō immediately raced over to look over both of you, his scent out of control as his emotions mingled together. He didn’t know what to think.

“It looks like it’s yours, Kōtarō,” Keiji says, hand resting on Kōtarō’s shoulder. He smiles in response, looking at the baby’s golden eyes blinking open at him.

“Sure does, Keiji. I guess the next thing we should work on is proper marriage, right?” He watches as the baby grasps his finger, the small hand even smaller compared to his large one.

“A proper marriage, yes. The ring, the dress, the ceremony, you would like that, wouldn’t you dear?”

“Of course Keiji. Anything you want.” As you look up to him, he sees nothing but love in your eyes. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

“Well, as well as making sure the next one’s mine. We should start on that as soon as possible, don’t you think?”

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nkogneatho · 3 years

Text

ENEMIES TO LOVERS + KYOUTANI KENTAROU (f!reader)

Requests are open. Prompt list here.

Requested by @satisfactory-simp

A/n: Hello. I am really sorry this took so long. My tumblr was glitching so I am unable to answer and my drafts won't save. Anyways, here you go. I hope you like it.💕

Disclaimer: I do not own the character, the character in this 18+.

Warnings: Smut, Angsty.

Life basically sucked. You barely had any friends, not so comfortable with your family, and plus just took admission in a new school. Seijoh was known for elites. You thought it'd be nice to have decent people around you until your very first encounter was with this horrible person.

"Can't you walk properly? Don't you have eyes?", excuse me? Who is he yelling at? Isn't it his mistake you thought but you really didn't want to get caught in a mess on your very first day at school. You just apologized and left.

When the lecture started, you felt everyone staring at you and mumbling. You look up only to see they were glancing a bit backwards. You turned your head to find the very same guy you met in the corridor covered in bruises. What the hell?

"Got a problem with me? Is there anything on my face", shit. You stared at him for too long.

Yes there is. "Um no nothing, sorry" wait why am I apologizing? Did he get bullied. Judging from his posture and attitude doesn't look it. He seems like the one who bullies other. You really didn't like him or anything about him. He was the same. You were just classmates nothing more than that but still whenever you saw each other, there was this hatred. Maybe it was because you both always encounter each other on the wrong time.

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

One day, after the lecture you went to explore the school and it's well known volleyball players. You found the practice hall empty and locked. Maybe it's there day off. You heard a continuous loud sound arithmetically. You saw Mad dog practicing his serves. Balls hitting the ground so hard that you were sure they were gonna bursts. A girl approaches him. They were arguing. Is she his girlfriend? Well sure it was none of your business but since you had nothing to do, you stayed to watch.

"Mad dog. I am trying so hard to make you go out with me"

"Didn't I tell you I am busy. I don't have time to go for dates", he clearly wanted to make her go but she seemed to hung up on him.

"But-"

"No buts. I told you. It's my decision. Now scram", he glared at her. She walked away with a frown.

Later when you arrived in your class you saw it was pretty crowdy.

"I am telling you, he purposely held my hand and slapped me", the girl cried. It was the same girl who was asking him out on the ground.

"Stop lying you bitch", Kyoutani's rage was clearly visible.

"Look at him using such words at her. I am pretty sure he did it.", people around started talking about him but they were wrong. You were there when that happened. You clearly saw the whole thing and none of this shit occurred.

"She is lying.", you spoke up. "I was there. I went to explore the volleyball club but then I saw her asking him out. Kyoutani didn't do anything. He just told her to fuck off.", Kyoutani's eyes widened at you. Never in his life anyone ever trusted him. It's that when he fell for you. He did ask you to date him later but you denied saying "I was just helping a fellow classmate. That's no reason for you to want to date me" . He was still not giving up.

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

One evening, he saw you on a date with someone else. That's it. That was enough to break his heart. He couldn't take it so he approached you disturbing your dinner with the person.

"Hey. We still have to complete that project", his eyes hooked on your date, glancing them.

"Can't you see I am between a conversation and this is my private time?", you frowned.

"I don't care. We have to complete it. I don't want to fail because of you", you were sure he was just making an excuse.

"Fail? Since when do you care about studies so much?"

"Since I wanted to pass", a fake smile on his face.

You both started arguing and were so involved in each other that you forgot about your date. When you turned your head to glance at them but they had left.

Kyoutani noticed that and walked out of the diner with a 'plan successful' look on his face.

You paid the bill and followed him outside. You gripped his arms and swayed it to make him face you.

"What?", he asked.

"What the fuck do you mean what? Wasn't it you who just ruined my dinner with them?", rage flowed your mind.

"Who cares?"

"I don't get you Kyoutani. Why did you do that? Why do you always behave like this with me?"

"Because I am in love with you, you dumbass. And I know you think, I just wanted to date you as a return for your favor for saving my ass but no. I can't help but think about you. And it fucking hurts to see you with someone else when you don't even know how I genuinely feel", he tried so hard not to cry then and there.

To be honest, yes you were a bit of an ass to him. You weren't different from those people cause even you judged him the first time you saw him. The reason you have always avoided him is maybe you were scared he might be a violent person. But now? Now after watching him like this? After knowing that he is actually a soft person and people just test him? You couldn't help but shed tears knowing how bad he must've been hurt. Overthinking about it will only ruin the moment. Your mind was a mess at that time. All you knew that if you let this chance slip, you will surely regret it. Without a second thought you gripped his collar and placed a deep kiss on his lips. You swayed away, both standing in confusion. "I-I am really sorry. I-I didn't k-know what happ-", he interrupted your stuttering latching his lips on yours. You held the hem of his jacket like holding on your feelings for him. It wasn't clear what you guys were doing at this point. What was your relation? But none of you could deny the fact that it was surprisingly comfortable.

"Can we go at my place?", you pulled away to catch a breath as you asked him. Awed at your question but he still assured that you were okay. "Are you sure?"

"Yes", eyes closed as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

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

You invited him in, keys jingling as you threw them on the counter. "You wanna eat something?", you asked searching for beverages in the fridge.

"Yeah, you.", your cheeks reddened at his words.

"Obviously I'm kidding", he approached you as he didn't wanna make things awkward but now you couldn't get the thought out of your head. The thought of how would Kyoutani look settled between your legs.

"I mean, you can if you want to.", honestly? Even you were kinda stunned at your own statement. His legs advanced towards you, arms practically caging your sides. Face rigorously close to yours. If you both kissed now, you knew things just won't stop there.

Eyes wandering on each others lips before grabbing them, the space between you to closing in as you inhaled and dwelled in his softness. Wodering despite how rough he looks, he is nothing but a delicate person.

His big arms picked you up and carried you to the couch in the hall.

"Are you sure the door's locked?", and that was the confirmation that you won't just end it on a kiss tonight.

"Yeah", he lifted up your skirt to find your thighs rubbing together in embarrassment but that was the heat between your legs. You slowly started spreading them, a part of you hesitating because of how wet he made you with just some kisses. Kyoutani's eyes perked up at the view in front of him. The wet spot on your panties were clearly visible and so some of your juices flowing from the hem of it through your inner thighs. I swear he gulped down his breath at just how sexy you looked like this. He gave you a glace for consent and you nodded. Without further ado, he licked the wetness on your inner thighs then following your sex. His first lick had you squirming because of the temperature difference. "You taste so good", tongue only left your pussy once just to compliment you.

"It's kind of-- embarrassing", you bit your finger that made him turn on even more. You peeked at the tent growing in his pants. "Kyoutani. I want you inside me", he legitimately slapped himself. "What are you doing?", you asked.

"Just making sure it's not a dream", you wrapped your hand around his neck pulling him in. "No, it's not a dream. This is for real. We are for real Kyoutani". "I love the way you call me Kyoutani unlike everyone else. Only you have the right"

"Oh you'll love it even more when I'll call you daddy", bitch don't you have shame? Is what you were screeching inside but who cares?

He didn't know he had that kink until you said it. "Where's the bedroom?", a question without a second thought.

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He placed you on the bed delicately. You both started stripping, making sure there's nothing bothersome between when your skins touch.

Your thighs rubbed against each other the second you saw his big and thick length.

You helped him put on a condomn and then lied back with your legs apart, perhaps an invitation to just put it in.

Kyoutani gently slid his dick in your sloppy wet cunt. You hissed at the thick length stretching you out. "Is it hurting? Should I stop?". "No. Please keep going.", it did hurt a little but you were so greedy for that feeling.

He made sure to move subtly. He doesn't want to cause his love pain. Once your pussy got adjusted to it, he started thrusting. Dick reaching places, no one ever did. "Call me daddy again", you were smiling internally learning how you got him this hard. "Please fuck me Daddy. I want you", these words were enough to make him go harder as he gripped your hips. "Ahh ahh-- Kyoutani Ahh", you couldn't hold your moans at this point. It took just one deep thrust for you to come undone. Walls clenching around his dick your hands did the same to the bedsheets. Seeing you like this, the girl he fell in love with was a very unknown feeling as he never fell for anyone before.

He couldn't hold it back in. He shoved it a few more times as he reached his own high. He dropped himself on top you, elbow digging deep in the mattress as his upper body balanced on it. Eyes making sure to never yours which were half-lided from the overwhelming heat after a long time.

"You know, it really ached when you ignored me before. But now here we are. Still can't believe this happened"

"I ignored you because I was scared that I might catch feelings and it won't go the way I want to", yes, you were honestly scared.

"So what changed your mind?", the curiosity stucked in his mind.

"The fact that someone was willing to give their heart to me was enough to make me fall for you at that confession. I love you Kyoutani", now that you discovered him, even your feelings became clear.

"I love you too", he cooed with a smile.

Turns out all of that wasn't the hatred but denial of the fact that deep down, you both were meant to be but just the circumstances weren't coping up with you two.

©All the wrting contents belongs to nkogneatho 2021, do not repost.

#kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #seijoh smut #aoba johsai x reader #haikyuu x reader

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 45 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Aiden’s jealousy worsened, and Bianca invited Courtney to lunch.

This Chapter: Courtney, Adore and Violet all receive unexpected invitations.

***

It was kind of amazing. How Courtney could be sitting across from one of the most influential, powerful women in New York and feel so...well, comfortable. She knew that any sane person would feel horribly intimidated in this situation, but Bianca just kept on making her laugh so much, it was like she forgot to be nervous. Or...well, she wasn’t exactly not nervous, but it was a fluttery kind of excited nervous, curling pleasantly in her abdomen as they bantered back and forth.

“So...what class are you taking later?” Bianca asked, stirring her latte.

“It’s a street jazz class at BDC,” Courtney replied.

“BDC?” Bianca raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it stands for Broadway Dance Cen-”

“Yeah, I know what BDC is, I’m not a moron,” Bianca interrupted, and Courtney bit back a laugh, finding her abrasive style somehow endearing. “I just didn’t realize you were a dancer.”

“Oh. I’m not really. I just uh...want to get into music. Eventually. Like, pop music. When I got to New York, I went on a bunch of auditions, and I realized that my dance background was nowhere near strong enough to be competitive-” Courtney stopped abruptly. Was she saying too much? As nice as Bianca was, she was also one of Fame’s best friends.

Bianca didn’t seem concerned though, simply listening, nodding, a soft smile on her face. She really was so beautiful. Courtney’s heart hammered a bit faster.

“Do you mind...um...not telling Miss Fame about that? I don’t want her to think I’m not committed. I just, feel like she’d disapprove, and I really need that job, so-”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bianca’s smile deepened, dark eyes shining.

“Thanks.” Courtney smiled back as the waitress set down their food, relieved.

“So how’d you end up at Galactica, anyway? It’s not exactly a direct path from there to being a pop star.”

“Uh, it’s kind of a long story. I was applying for like, any job that would let me stay in the country, and when I saw the opening with Miss Fame, I was thrilled. And then Adore and I were at this club, and we ran into Violet, and...I guess she kind of put in a good word for me.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that,” Bianca mused.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just… Violet’s always seemed a bit...uptight as fuck?”

Courtney had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud, explaining, “She takes her work very seriously.”

“Oh yeah?” One of Bianca’s brows raised a little, challenging. “Do you?”

“Of course! I’m so lucky to have that job, a million girls would kill to be in my shoes. And Miss Fame, you know, she’s a great boss.” Courtney blinked at Bianca, watching her muffle a laugh with her hand. “What?”

“No, nothing. You’re just cute when you lie.”

That fluttery feeling was back in Courtney’s belly, stronger than ever, as she insisted, “I’m not lying! She’s great! You’re her best friend, you should know-”

“Exactly. I’m her best friend. That’s how I know you’re lying.” Bianca bit down on a sweet potato fry, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, maybe she’s a little…”

“Yes?”

“Well, she’s not the easiest boss, or the most predictable, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a good one.” Courtney crossed her arms, a pretend little pout on her lips.

“Fair enough.”

And with that particular landmine safely side-stepped, Courtney let out a relieved sigh.

“Hey, uh, here’s a question. Do you have any Thanksgiving plans? I know you’re not American, so-”

“Really, what gave that away?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering.

“Lucky guess,” Bianca laughed. “Anyway, Adore and I usually go home to New Orleans. But my sister Liz is going through a divorce and she’s apparently just an absolute cunt to anyone who dares even look at her. So we decided to stay in town and avoid that nightmare altogether.”

“That’s nice. Very supportive.”

“Hey, I’m paying for her attorney,” Bianca defended herself, and Courtney laughed. Of course she was paying for her sister’s divorce attorney; she was quickly proving to be one of the most generous people Courtney’d ever met. “But yeah, so...would you have any interest in joining us?”

“Really?”

“Sure. I know Adore would love to have you there,” Bianca said quickly, and after a moment of hesitation, added, “And hey, I’d like to encourage her to hang out with people who read. So, you know, win win.”

Courtney bit her lip, Bianca’s sarcastic deflection as she folded up a napkin in her hands making the whole thing painfully cute.

“No pressure, I just, uh...wanted you to know you’re welcome.”

“I would love to,” Courtney said, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the invite, knowing that this was a holiday people spent with family. “I should warn you though, I just went vegan.”

“Oh shit, invite rescinded.”

Courtney giggled, twirling a lock of her hair. “I know, I've already lost 3 friends over it. And I think I’m on very thin ice with Adore. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s no big deal. I actually eat a lot of vegan food, even tried it myself for a few years,” Bianca said. “I am a lesbian, after all.”

Courtney leaned forward, intrigued. “Is that like a thing?”

“Oh yeah,” Bianca nodded.

“Why do you think that is?” Courtney asked, lifting her glass to her lips, trying to find the straw without looking.

Bianca thought for a moment and then said, “Well...part of it is probably just lefty-feminist politics. And then of course there’s the purely unscientific belief that a plant-based diet makes your pussy taste amazing.”

Courtney choked, spitting out some of her smoothie, cheeks flushing hotly.

A mischievous smile spread across Bianca’s face as she handed over some napkins. She looked both terribly amused and a bit proud of herself.

“Sorry,” Courtney sputtered, wiping up the mess. “I was...not prepared for that.”

“I hope I didn’t destroy your innocence,” Bianca said, voice soft and teasing.

“I’m not that fragile. I’ve been Adore’s best friend for 4 years, remember?” Courtney reminded her.

“Right.”

As Courtney set down the napkins, she looked up and caught Bianca’s eyes again, both of them breaking out into matching grins. She couldn’t quite explain the way her heart thumped faster every time they looked at each other--all she knew was that looking into Bianca’s warm brown eyes, she felt better than she had in months.

***

“Fame?”

Patrick toed his shoes off, resisting the urge to dump his tennis bag by the door. He played tennis every other Saturday morning, tennis and his occasional swims the only form of exercise he had ever found bearable, even though Fame had tried to get him turned into yoga more times than he could count.

Patrick waited for a second, either expecting his wife or his dog to come down to greet him, but neither happened, instead, all he could hear was the faint sound of the TV.

“Fame? Darling?”

Patrick put his bag down, vowing to himself that he’d remember to come back and pick it up, before he made his way into their townhouse.

He found her in the living room. Fame was sitting on the couch in a silk robe, the TV on, the curtains drawn, Charles' head resting on her lap.

“Did you have fun?”

“We finished 5 sets.” Patrick smiled, Fame not actually asking how he had done at tennis, the rules of the game on the long list of things she didn’t care about, though she had shown up to watch him play, the shorts apparently making it worth it. He walked over to the couch, sitting down and leaning in to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, when he felt Fame’s hand on his face, blocking him.

“Don’t-” Fame turned her head, pulling herself away from her show as she looked at Patrick through her fingers. “I just had my skin done, and I refuse to let you mess up my microneedling.”

“Ah. Glad it’s not a chemical peel month.” Fame always looked absolutely insane after those, her skin flaking off. It was rather disgusting, and he tried not to be around for those, seeing your wife shed like a lizard weirdly enough rarely doing wonders for a sex life.

“Shut up.”

Patrick grinned, and Fame smiled as she pushed him back, Patrick settling in on the couch so Fame could snuggle up against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “And what are we watching?”

“Snapped.”

Patrick had to hide a snort, Fame absolutely devouring any and all true crime media. When she’d first gotten addicted to that particular show, all about women who murdered their partners, he’d wonder if she was trying to tell him something. Her response when he’d asked, “Keep asking questions like that and you’ll find out,” had made him burst out laughing, his wife’s sardonic, grisly sense of humor one of the things he loved the most about her, only coming out in rare instances but always a delightful surprise. Almost as surprising as her porcelain chicken collection.

“Your bag better not be flung anywhere.”

Ah.

Busted.

***

Katya hummed to herself as she was setting the table, a bottle of wine for Trixie and sparkling water for her chilling in the fridge.

Trixie was locked up in their bedroom, working away on the cost predictions for the Spring prêt-à-porter collection, sweating over numbers and doing everything he could to make sure everything was running smoothly.

He had promised her to come out for dinner, so Katya had arranged a surprise, a gigantic order of Chipotle on its way.

“Hey Katya?”

Katya looked up from where she had been folding the napkin, to see Pearl leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed. She was wearing a pair of drop-crotch sweats and a sleeveless jersey tied up around her midriff, certainly not her typical going-out clothes. Was it possible that she was staying in? On a Saturday?

“Everything okay?”

Pearl gave a slow, unconvincing nod, walking forward a few steps.

“Are you sure about that?”

“How did you know that you wanted to be with Trixie forever?”

Katya paused, the napkin still in her hand as she considered Pearl’s question. Normally, she would have made a joke about Trixie’s luscious butt, but judging from Pearl’s face, this wasn’t the time.

“I honestly…still don’t know.”

“Please,” Pearl sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Katya smiled. Pearl and Trixie had been friends for forever, but they didn’t become best friends until after Katya and Trixie had started dating, Pearl moving in with Trixie while she was in rehab for that final time. “I liked being single. I liked having little whirlwind romantic flings and then going back to starfishing across the bed when they were over.”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head, and Katya declared a small victory for making her crack a smile.

“If I’d been single forever, I’d have been perfectly fine.”

Maybe not perfectly fine, but Pearl didn’t need to know that, the things Katya had done before Trixie came into her life not really things she was particularly proud of.

“I liked being free.” Katya shrugged, trying it out.

“Mmmh?”

Bingo.

Katya hid a smirk, Pearl straightening up the moment freedom had been mentioned.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Pearl was struggling in her relationship with Adore, that her friend was probably freaking out about being with someone for any extended amount of time, since Katya had never seen Pearl do anything like what she doing now, long-term relationships not really the Liaison brand.

“But I met Trix, and I like him more than freedom. Or, well, that’s not really accurate. Actually…” Katya sat down beside Pearl. “The truth is, I feel my freest when I’m with him. Knowing that he’s in my corner. But I mean, knowing for sure? I just don’t think certainty is in my nature. Luckily, it’s in his. That’s why we’re a good team.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. You guys are a good team.” Pearl sighed.

“Do you feel like you guys are a good team?” Katya asked carefully.

“Sometimes. I mean...we’re a lot alike. Maybe too much alike. I dunno.” Pearl avoided Katya’s gaze.

“Here’s a question...are you happier with her, or without her?” Katya asked.

“I...don’t know.”

Katya reached for Pearl’s hand. “Pearl, listen. I like Adore, a lot actually. I think she’s sweet and beautiful and funny and she obviously cares about you so much. But I also think that stringing her along when you’re feeling like this...it’s not fair to either of you.”

“I just don’t want to give up so fast!” Pearl exclaimed. “I always do that. I promised myself that I would actually try this time.”

“Well, then maybe you just need to be reminded of why you got together in the first place.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Also...now I don’t want to sound like I’m preaching here,” Katya began.

“No, it’s fine. I asked for your opinion,” Pearl said.

“Well...in my experience...it’s really hard to maintain any kind of real relationship--friendship, romantic, whatever--if you prioritize your ego over the other person’s feelings.”

Pearl blinked at her for a few seconds, letting the comment sink in, before dropping her head to the table with a soft, “fuck…”

Katya chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. “You’ll be alright.”

***

“Drink drink drink drink drink drink drink drink YEAHHHHHHH!” The girls cheered as Adore finished her beer and slammed the empty glass down on the table.

Adore laughed, wiping her mouth, looking around at the group. Originally, when Courtney had introduced her to these girls years ago as “my sorority sisters,” she was picturing stuck-up, prissy little spoiled brats, who would judge her and never accept her - the punk rock lesbian who walked around in bare feet and no bra most of the time.

She was pleasantly surprised when they ended up being fun, and mostly turned their Mean Girls Judgement on others, or each other. Somehow Adore became the untouchable and beloved mascot of the group, the cool, alternative one who gave them all street cred. Tyra loved her because they were both from the South, both from big families and both of them possessed deeply developed bullshit detectors. Tati enjoyed doing shots with her and wreaking havoc (and was good for a sloppy drunken makeout session at least a few times a year) and Morgan - well, Morgan was kind of a cunt, but in the very best way. It was part of her charm, and, as she explained it, part of her Scottish heritage.

This night out with her friends was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her current relationship drama. She’d only spoken to Pearl once since their fight the other day, and it was tense, Pearl claiming to be running into a meeting. After that, nothing. No messages, no calls--she still wasn’t 100% sure where things stood between them.

Adore turned to Courtney, who absentmindedly stirred her drink with a straw, staring into space. She’d already noticed a bit of a change in her mood from a week ago - there was definitely something lighter about her. Still, quiet wistfulness wasn’t her general M.O. in a club - usually she was the first one on the dance floor. Adore nudged her gently with a hip.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Courtney turned to her with a little smile, green eyes soft.

“Are you having fun?”

“Of course! I always have fun with you,” she said, wrapping her arms around Adore’s waist and cuddling closer, laying a head on her shoulder.

Adore pressed the kiss to the top of her head before asking the other question on her mind, “So...um...what’s going on with you and my sister?”

Courtney’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard you hung out today…and that you’re joining us for Thanksgiving?”

“Oh. Right. No, I just ran into her by chance.”

“Where the hell are you hanging out, where you run into someone like that?” Morgan asked. “The fuckin’ SoHo house?”

“It was a bookstore.”

“Ugh, smart bitch.”

“And like…she bought me lunch because she knows I’m poor,” Courtney explained, “and since you guys will be in town and I don’t have family here, she just asked if I wanted to come.”

“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Tyra cut in, “She just took you on a date and then invited you to a family holiday…”

“It wasn’t a date!” Courtney said, laughing. “It was really all just very casual. She was just being nice.”

“Being nice for no reason. Sounds like Bianca alright,” Adore said, one eyebrow raised, and Courtney giggled again, shrugging.

“Maybe she’s nicer than you think.”

“Listen, Courtney, I’m glad you’re gonna be there because I love you. But just...you know, my sister is very...uh…”

“Yeah?”

“No, she’s great. Like, she’s the best. But…” Adore trailed off, grabbing a shot from the round Morgan was setting on the table and tossing it back.

It felt weird to be having this conversation. Did she really need to warn Courtney about Bianca? After all, B had joked about hitting on her before but never actually done anything. And what would she even say? ‘My sister is very good at charming the pants off every girl who catches her attention--especially the blondes’? ‘Beware the dimples’? She was certain that Bianca would never make a move on someone who didn’t want it, so...why not just leave it alone?

“You know what? Nevermind. Whose phone is that?” Adore felt her pocket, realizing that the out of control buzzing was her own phone--hopefully not her sister being an impatient cunt about Courtney’s number.

PEARL: Hey. I’m sorry about how I acted on Thursday.

PEARL: And yesterday

PEARL: There’s a warehouse party in Brooklyn tomorrow

PEARL: At the navy yard. Wanna go?

PEARL: It’s right by Grimaldi’s…

PEARL: Best pizza in NY

PEARL: My treat

ADORE: So you like pizza again, huh?

PEARL: It’s my favorite ;)

ADORE: Lol, okay, I’m in. <3

Adore looked back up at her friends, grinning at the group. “Let’s go dance!”

***

Sutan wasn’t nervous.

He wasn’t, because that would be ridiculous.

Sutan took a sip of his coffee, watching people walk by the cafe he was sitting at. It was a surprisingly sunny Saturday for October, the air crisp and fresh. He had already waited for 20 minutes, Violet once again late, but Sutan had asked for a chocolate croissant with his first cup of coffee, his girlfriend's time management skills surprisingly terrible.

Sutan was planning to invite Violet to Aspen with him, Raja and Raven for their annual ski trip. It was a tradition of theirs, Raja and he owning a cabin together that they visited every year. He wasn’t a brilliant skier, but he liked the mountain air, the sense of freedom, and of being disconnected while out on the slopes.

He had thought about inviting Violet along for weeks, Raven needling him about whether or not Violet would be coming with him.

Sutan wanted Violet to join them. Wanted to see her all dressed up in winter wear, wanted to teach her how to ski and have drinks by the fire in the evening.

There was just the teeny tiny insignificant detail, that the last time he had asked someone to come with him and Raja to Aspen, it had been a terrible time.

He didn’t hate Kahmora, at least not any more, their divorce lasting longer than their marriage, but he still felt a sense of dread every time he visited L.A. - which was why he avoided the city as much as he could, Kahmora thankfully relocating once they severed ties.

Violet wasn’t Kahmora though, actually, they were as different as day and night.

“Hey.”

Sutan turned his head to see Violet come walking towards him, her coat closely around her, her new bag in hand, and Sutan was glad he had splurged for the largest model Dior made, the purse already stuffed.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Violet pressed a kiss against his cheek, sliding in on the other side of the table, her dress brushing against him. “Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Violet didn’t need to know that he already finished a chocolate croissant, that sin between him and his trainer.

“Ah,” Violet looked guilty for a second, brushing a bit of her hair behind her ear, her earring of the day a tiny golden hook. “Sorry, I was at work and time just flew by-”

“Work?” Sutan twisted his wrist, taking a peek at his Rolex. “It’s 10:33 on a Saturday?”

“I went in at 6.” Violet picked the menu up, the fact that she tried to pretend that she wasn’t going to order avocado on rye kind of cute. “I know I have to turn my dress over to tailoring sooner or later-”

“But you want to finish as much as you can?” Sutan smiled, emptying his coffee cup. “Of course.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Sutan held up his hands in defense. “Promise.” He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Violet’s right hand, her fingertips thankfully not the raw red points he had helped wrap and put ice on. “It’s just very dedicated-”

“This is my first chance to get an actual piece on the runway. It has to be perfect-” Violet was cut off as the waiter came over, Sutan hiding a grin as she ordered avocado on rye, his second breakfast a plate of scrambled eggs and salmon.

“Speaking of perfect.” Sutan moved his chair while the waiter walked away, his stomach tied up in a knot. “I was wondering, if…”

“Yes?” Violet tilted her head, clearly listening, her brow eyes resting on his face.

“If you’d like...” Sutan had no idea why this was so hard, “to come to Aspen with Raja, Raven and I in January?”

“What?” Violet looked genuinely confused.

“Raja and I own a cabin, and-”

“Like, in Colorado? Like Aspen Aspen? Like posh skiing Aspen?”

“Yes?” Sutan lifted a brow. “Do you know any other Aspen?”

“No, but I-” Violet bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I don’t know how to ski?”

“Oh,” Sutan laughed, the admission not at all what he had expected. “Well, lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled. “I can promise you, that that is not a problem.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #bitney #adore x pearl #vitan #courtney act #bianca del rio #miss fame #katya zamolodchikova #pearl liaison #adore delano #raja gemini #violet chachki #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

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neurodecadence · 3 years

Note

Sorry in advance bc I don't think I've subjected you to this before but Do The Prime Numbers

the only apology I need is for making me remember maths

2 (cause one doesn't count as a prime, right? I never got why though) "what's your favorite horror subgenre?" I love found footage. I know it's cliched and dumb, all that jazz, but I love the whole cinema verite (to sound pretentious) vibes of the whole thing. I know it's fake, I know the undead didn't kill a whole town in southern texas, I know a monster didn't destroy new york, I know there's not an asylum in toronto haunted by the ghosts of patients subjected to satanic abuse (actually considering the history of asylums, you never know on that one) but it FEELS real, like I'm seeing something I'm not supposed to. The low budget only amplifies the joy for me.

3 "you're planning a horror movie marathon with your friends - which movies are you picking?" Grave Encounters (love the genius locii/house of leaves stuff going on there), Halloween (classic), Southbound (great anthology horror, highly recommend), and capping it off with Evidence, so we can all go to bed going "what the FUCK did you just put in front of me"

4 "you can go back in time and watch a horror movie of your choice on its premiere - which movie are you going to see?" Alien, the first one. I'd kill to be there for the chestburster scene for the FIRST TIME EVER, it's not even a question

5 "if you were a character in a horror movie, what kind of movie would it be? what kind of character would you be? what would be your fate?" It's a found footage, and I'm the camera holder's best pal and genre savvy, funny sidekick. I make it through most of the movie, my jokes breaking the tension (even if I do get yelled at in an important character building scene for making light of the situation, where I break down and explain it's cause I'm frightened too). Late in the film it's just me, the camera holder, and their love interest, a chance to escape appears, but the threat is just behind us; someone is going to have to make a final stand to let the others go. The main character say's they'll do it, but I stop them and tell them I won't let them, they need to get out of here. My final lines are "You know me, this is always how I've wanted to go out, keeping my best friend safe and looking like a total badass" As they flee the camera is turned back, showing flashes of light, banging, and me yelling cliches and one liners at the monsters I beat back, until a strangled cry, and then nothing.

7 "answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: a murder has occurred. somebody you knew, though only in passing, got knifed by some psycho killer and the whole town is in shock. the school fool has taken it upon themselves to throw a party in the midst of all of this, "to celebrate life", as they say. - you get an invitation but are you going to the party?"

Fuuuuuuck no, and not just cause I'm not a party kind of gal in the first place (well, maybe a chill drinks and background music kinda shindig). I'm also encouraging people I know to not go, cause it's genuinely pretty disrespectful, might invite some friends so we can share any memories we have and share a quiet evening. In real life, that's about where it ends, probably. In a slasher, we probably get knifed BEFORE the big party, one of us makes it out, runs to the party covered in blood yelling about the killer, causing a panic that only makes things worse when the stabbing starts. You just can't win when you got a Jason type bastard on the loose, can you?

11 "answer for real life vs if you were a slasher movie character: you escaped the killer but your friends are still stuck on their hunting ground, hiding and running for their lives. do you go back for them?"

Hell yeah I do! I'm running that cunt down with my car (which would probably be a prius everyone else made fun of earlier, making it more dramatically and comedically satisfying). IRL, the killer is now pavement jam. In a film, we might have a problem.

13 "you're offered the chance to privately talk to a horror villain of your choice, currently kept secure in a government facility. your safety during the encounter is guaranteed. do you take the offer? and if you do, who do you pick? why?"

No, I can't think of any that could tell me anything I'm, like, desperate to know. Anything worth that effort. Maybe Pinhead, to ask about the cosmology of the world, but he'd probably say some shit that made me go mad and, like, die horribly. Also I don't think I'm smart enough to "get" it.

17 "would you rather have chucky try and transfer his soul into your body or have the sawyer family try and put you on their dinner table?"

Sawyers. You never win VS that bastard doll, but leatherface is still human. Barely, but still.

19 "the asker gets to make up a would-you-rather question of their own."

Apparently the question was "do you wanna see if you can remember the primes, or ignore it and not risk embarrassing yourself" The answer is that I have very little pride or shame left, and I like answering questions too much to ignore it c:

23 "what are some things that give you the total creeps? places, items, even certain times that you try to avoid whenever possible?"

So, okay, it's well known that I'm a brainweird bitch (read: legitimately mentally ill, but trying to be cool about it), but also sometimes I just... See shit. I know logically it's probably visual hallucinations, or memory problems, pareidolia, or a sensible explanation for deja vu. BUT There is SOME shit I have seen that I can't ignore. Houses that don't make sense no matter how I look at them, the moonwatcher, catghosts, and that one thing I will not talk about because I just know in the back of my skull that it doesn't like being noticed. A lot of these are benevolent, or just not paying attention (the catghosts in particular are very chill, if a little bothersome some days), but there are some I will go out of my way to avoid or ignore. Maybe I'm being silly, hell, almost definitely, but I don't care. I don't want to poke at things I don't understand, only to find out it was a sleeping bear.

29 "29. are you dressing up this halloween?"

Shit I don't know if I'll get the chance. If I do.... Oh! I got it! I'm gonna go as my own corpse, being wheeled around in my wheelchair by my pal dressed as an evil spooky nurse! Grim, spooky, kinda funny when I stop playing dead and perk up to go "The punch is fantastic, by the way!", AND I get to have gruesome blood and injuries all over- it's perfect!

31 "make a list: halloween preparation shopping list."

Halloween ain't such a big thing down here in Aotearoa, sadly. I like to make a deal of it, but no one else does. Still, candy for handing out, a mix of some cheap bulk mix kids can get a handful of, and some nicer mini candy bars I can hand out one at a time. Costume supplies, fake cobwebs, and some other lil decorations. I'd love to own a house and go all out for it one year, but for now I can be content with the lil paper skeleton I have hanging in my room.

37 "it's halloween! the clock strikes midnight and at the edge of town, a witch is trying to summon you. what items will she need for the spell to work?"

I mean it's halloween, and it's a witch, so she's already mostly done. Aside from that... A plastic skull, A dvd copy of a crappy horror film, a 2 liter of sugar free coke, a crystal bell, and a chunk of rose quartz. AND a smooch- no way am I passing up that chance!

Thank you for all these questions, I had an absolute blast answering these!

#Asks #holy shit this was fun thank you so much

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beca-mitchell · 4 years

Text

we are the wild youth (4/5)

chapter 4: catch us in the mirror (it looks a lot like love)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: New semester, new/old feelings. Same Beca and Chloe. Supposedly.

Usual warnings apply! Smut w/ a dose of fluff this time. chapter title from “Another Place" by Bastille ft. Alessia Cara.

Word count: 5k

Read below or on AO3.

Figuring it out in the morning doesn’t quite come right away. Though they spend the night together, Beca regretfully has an early breakfast with her father and stepmother—a breakfast promised to them many weeks ago. It is a tradition at this point—an end-of-semester breakfast with her father as she begrudgingly admits that maybe four years at Barden wasn’t so bad.

“I have to get breakfast with my dad,” Beca murmurs, pushing at Chloe’s arm. She gives up on that when Chloe rolls further into her and captures her lips in a messy, early morning kiss. Beca almost caves completely, debating how upset her father would be if she skipped out.

“You should go,” Chloe whispers.

But we should talk, Beca thinks. “I should go,” Beca reiterates. “But—”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Chloe says slyly, leaning back with a grin. Beca groans at the blatant way Chloe tucks her arms behind her head and lets the sheets slip tantalizingly low.

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Beca scowls. “Yes you are, you’re doing too much.” With that, she scrambles to climb back on top of Chloe’s body, letting her hands fly up to cup her breasts possessively.

Her previous mild hangover is already a distant memory.

- - x - -

So she’s a little late. Whatever. She’s done with her second last semester of college ever.

Her stepmother shoots her father a knowing look. Beca tries not to think about what that means.

Chloe has already sent her a text.

Chloe i’ll see you tonight

“And tutoring?” Beca’s father is asking her. “That went well this semester?”

Beca shrugs, stifling a smile as she puts away her phone. “I can’t complain.”

What her father doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

- - x - -

“You look beautiful,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca blushes furiously under the intensity of Chloe’s gaze and the deep sincerity in her tone.

It wasn’t that Beca had never been on a date before—she had a small share of relationships over her past few years at Barden, but nothing had amounted to anything serious.

She mulls over how surreal her life seems now, especially as Chloe’s hand wraps around her own, soft and warm all at once.

“Where are we going?” Beca murmurs. She uses her free hand to draw the lapels of her jacket together as she shivers.

Chloe pauses immediately and slowly steps in front of Beca so she can gently pull up the zipper on Beca’s jacket. Beca shivers again, this time because of how close Chloe is standing to her; because of how softly Chloe rests her hands against her shoulders when she finishes zipping up her jacket. The act, in all its simplicity is incredibly intimate and so, so rife with gentleness.

It almost feels like Chloe is a completely different person, but the softness in Chloe’s expression is all too familiar. A gaze that Beca had grown accustomed to over the past semester, even amidst brief moments of tension and annoyance.

It is nothing new, simply just a fresh outlook for Beca.

“We’re going to get dinner,” Chloe says simply. “Then to celebrate you finishing your last exam for the semester, I’m going to let you have your way with me.”

Beca swallows.

Right. Nothing new.

- - x - -

Beca grunts, keeping up the vigorous pace she’s set. Her fingers, slick and dripping with Chloe’s wetness, slide easily through Chloe’s cunt as Chloe’s cries intensify in volume.

She keeps her eyes trained on Chloe’s face, tracing over the furrow in her brow, her parted lips, and the deep flush on her cheeks—all serving to make Chloe even more attractive than she already is.

Chloe’s hands, clenched and unable to move by way of being restrained, tremble with the force of each precise, deep thrust of Beca’s fingers.

“Good?” Beca rasps, concerned when Chloe makes no noise for a few seconds.

Chloe hums, a thick rattling sound from deep within her chest, before nodding shortly. She stares up at Beca with bright eyes, brighter than usual. Her hips arch up wantonly when Beca’s fingers slow to a stop, buried deep inside Chloe. Beca tries to keep up some degree of focus, but the fucking clenching Chloe is doing is kind of fucking distracting.

“Chlo, words,” Beca urges. They’ve already been in bed for hours. Beca knows they should have stopped a while ago, but the thought of being apart for a couple weeks during Christmas break hda been too daunting.

“Yeah,” Chloe mumbles. “Yeah, just a bit more, baby.”

As always, the newfound nickname sends a thrill through Beca’s body. She shivers even if the heat in her room is cranked and the windows are sealed shut. Outside, cool air all around and the slightest hint of rain.

It is a typical Atlanta December just outside her window, but Beca finds it hard to care that another semester has just up and gone like that. Not when her entire world zeroes into the beautiful girl unraveling in her arms.

- - x - -

It is incredible how much better Chloe is at waking up in the morning.

But somehow, she makes waking up horrendously early a more enjoyable experience. Somehow.

Maybe it has something to do with the way she presses a slow lingering kiss to Beca’s shoulder, mapping the edges of her tattoo. Maybe it has something to do with the way she makes no move to leave the comfort of Beca’s bed and instead wraps her arms around Beca.

“I have a question,” Chloe asks. “Do you think I passed?”

It isn’t what Beca expects, but it makes her laugh. “Can we not talk about school right now?”

“What should we talk about?” Chloe wonders aloud. She sighs and nestles her chin just over the curve of Beca’s shoulder. Beca tilts her head back to watch Chloe carefully while her fingers gently trace over place where Chloe’s wrists had previously bore red lines from the scarves tying her wrists to the bed.

“I don’t know,” Beca finally says when Chloe continues to watch her.

“I have another question,” Chloe murmurs, gently easing Beca onto her back. Beca allows Chloe’s to drape her body over hers, like a second blanket because of how warm and comfortable Beca feels then.

“Should I be charging for tutoring services right now?” Beca snarks before she can help herself.

Chloe smiles, beautiful and carefree. “Depends. Will you be my girlfriend?”

It is entirely not what Beca expects at all. Her eyes widen and she takes in Chloe’s sincere expression, bright-eyed and open. It is such a far cry from just months ago, the end of August. Chloe’s dark-eyed gaze hellbent on simply making Beca come against the dresser multiple times. Possession and lust.

This is so much more. Just a matter of months and Beca finds that she has uncovered an entirely new version of Chloe Beale. One that she has grown to care for; one that she might even admit to loving.

It is so, so frightening knowing that there is a very tangible pressure hanging over both their heads. Beca, as Chloe’s tutor and essentially her ticket out of Barden. Chloe...as Beca’s one-way trip out of Barden as well. Out of Atlanta, for good.

“I think we can work something out,” Beca murmurs. “But I think I can’t accept money for that. Ethics.”

“Good, I wasn’t planning on paying you anyway. Not in money at least."

Beca shuts her up with an eager, messy kiss, already looking forward to the rest of the morning; looking forward to the rest of their mornings.

Chloe drives her to her father’s house later that day with the promise to message Beca while she’s away. Beca hates herself for the immediate thought that follows, that a family vacation to Paris and Nice for Christmas never sounded so horrible.

It is the oddest feeling to Beca. As she watches Chloe drive away, her lips still tingling from the kiss Chloe planted on her just before giggling and hopping in the car, she wonders where this feeling came from.

It is the feeling that she would rather be in Atlanta than anywhere else in the world.

- - x - -

Chloe <3 i passed calc :)

That is the message Beca wakes up to followed by a series of kissing emojis.

Beca calls Chloe immediately, cursing whatever Gods decided that Beca had to be across the globe in France of all places travelling with her father and stepmother on a fun family holiday. Emphasis on fun.

Chloe answers on the second ring. “Hey you. How’s Paris?”

“You did it! You passed!” Beca exclaims.

Chloe laughs. “Yes I did.”

“What’d you get?” Beca asks.

Chloe giggles. “I don’t want to tell you, you’ll let it go to your head.”

Beca exhales noisily. “Chloe. Tell me,” she whines, uncaring that it is probably too early in the morning for that kind of nonsense. She can’t help but smile at Chloe’s dramatic exhale.

“Fine,” Chloe sighs.

Pause.

“Chloe!”

“Beca,” Chloe drawls, clearly enjoying herself. Then, finally, “I got an A minus.”

Beca gasps, shooting straight up in bed. “Holy shit, I knew you were faking it.”

Chloe laughs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you just casually got an A minus. Alright.”

Chloe laughs again. She does not comment on Beca’s sarcastic tone. The brief silence that passes between them is comfortable. Beca lies back on her hotel bed, smiling up at the ceiling and wishing she could just be back in Atlanta so they could celebrate together.

Beca takes a stab at expressing her emotions. “I miss you.”

Chloe’s smile is nearly entirely audible through the phone: she sucks in a breath and pauses for a one delicate moment. “I miss you, too.”

- - x - -

Just like that, winter break is over.

Beca finds herself stunned at how little time she actually has until graduation. Residual Heat rings in the new year and new semester for her by requesting more samples of her work. That first week back at school ends up being one of the longest weeks of Beca’s life and she spends the majority of the week holed up in her room except when she dashes out for class. It sucks, but she hardly gets to see Chloe except for a very brief study session in which Chloe had diligently completed a preliminary statistics assignment without much guidance from Beca.

It is not until Saturday that Beca realizes that Chloe is lounging on her bed reading a thick novel that barely looks like it is in English.

“What day is it?” Beca asks in wonder. She glances to her side realizing that there is a bowl of yogurt and diced fruit as well as a steaming mug of tea.

Chloe giggles quietly, putting her book down while scooting over to the edge of Beca’s bed. “You’re surfaced, finally. Happy with what you’ve been working on?”

Beca nods. “Want to listen?” She is so grateful for Chloe’s presence. Neither obtrusive or invisible, Chloe had simply waited for Beca to finish.

“Yes,” Chloe says immediately, eyes lighting up. “You still owe me music.”

Beca laughs, amused at her girlfriend’s antics.

“Come here and let’s listen to it,” Chloe declares, patting the space next to her.

“Excuse me,” Beca says haughtily. “This is my room.” She clambers up next to Chloe nonetheless, pulling her laptop up with her. “Save comments ‘til the end.”

“Don’t you want live feedback?”

Beca would respond—she has a response ready—but Chloe’s hand comes up comfortingly to rub Beca’s neck, the gentle curve of the top of her spine, and up again to her hairline.

It is ridiculously nice.

“Stop,” Beca warns.

Of course, Chloe just doesn’t stop. She simply switches to an even slower, even rhythm. Her hand remains soft, yet firm against Beca’s skin.

“Well?” Chloe asks, her voice low and quiet. It makes Beca want to kiss her. “Show me.”

Beca finds that she really does not mind sharing—it is incredibly easy to open up to Chloe after all. It is something she has had the privilege to learn.

- - x - -

It isn’t that she has stopped learning things about Chloe. She learns more about the freckles on her body, along her neck. The curve of her breast. She learns exactly what kinds of touches draw out the sharpest breaths or the gentlest moans.

Beca kind of never expected to be that person, but she ends up skipping a class or two just to lie in bed with Chloe, watching the sunshine dance across their skin. Where one begins and the other ends is a mystery that Beca has no intention on solving.

She learns—and she aches to learn—more about each breathless gasp. Each telltale sign.

It feels like they have all the time in the world, or more specifically, that they have all the time in their world between the stacks of assignments and between classes.

It is every college cliche rolled into one whirlwind romance and Beca has long given up trying to assess risks and calculate the trajectory of heartbreak.

And Chloe—Chloe continues to figure out how to unravel Beca more and more. Each touch of a hot mouth between her legs shatters Beca’s resolve. All kinds of words threaten to spill from her lips, each more dangerous than the last.

Be mine—

I love you—

Stay—

Please don’t leave me.

And with every sure stroke of Chloe’s tongue against her wet, aching clit, Beca finds herself losing all semblance of the carefully-constructed path she had set for herself. She just has no idea when it was that Chloe tore down her walls.

- - x - -

“Before break, you, um, mentioned that your mom…” Chloe trails off hesitantly. “We don’t have to talk about her,” she says hesitantly watching Beca slowly close her book. “But I just wanted you to know that we could. If you want to.”

Beca observes how Chloe bites her lower lip slowly. The way her hands are curled into loose fists. “You can ask,” Beca allows, fixing Chloe with a gentle gaze.

The thought of talking about her mother is daunting most of the time. At least ninety-seven percent of the time. But Beca finds that it is something she wants to share with Chloe, if only to comfort both of them in that moment.

“I don’t really know what to ask,” Chloe admits.

“That’s okay.”

“I...when did she—?”

“I was probably five or six,” Beca replies, wracking her mind for some kind of memory. They are foggy at best. “She was sick,” she says simply. “That’s, um, all that I really remember. I have pictures of me with her, but that feels like an entire lifetime ago. My dad said that she liked to sing to me. Maybe that’s where the music thing comes from. I think about it now, you know? What it’d be like if she were still around. All of this.” You, Beca wants to say. She doesn’t manage to make it slip past the tip of the tongue.

Chloe nods with nothing but care in her expression. She reaches across the table to place her hands over Beca’s as the noise in the cafe fades to nothing but a dull nothingness. “I think she would be very proud of you.”

Beca marvels as that statement unlocks the floodgates of memories over the past few years at Barden. Yet another experience that she will not get to share with her mother, but the thought is comforting in how much Beca really believes Chloe when she says it.

“She would,” Beca agrees finally.

Chloe smiles at her and returns to her notebook.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been…” Chloe licks her lips. “I’ve been coming to terms with what happened to Jamie and just how bad things have been at home. And I just...don’t know what I would have done without you last semester and this semester.” She smiles, a little shyly. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Beca.”

“I have?”

“Not just with the homework and the tutoring because I guess...I never really needed it. But what I needed was somebody like you to help pull me out from my own self-sabotage.”

“You did it all by yourself, Chloe. I’m just here to support you.”

Chloe’s lips twitch, this time neither sad nor happy. “You’re the first.”

Beca is quiet for a moment. “Jamie would be proud of you too, Chloe. No matter what you end up doing. He would be like...stupidly proud.”

“That sounds exactly like something he would say.” Chloe appears mildly amazed. “How do you always know what to say?”

Beca could say the same about Chloe.

- - x - -

“So New York, huh,” Beca’s father notes over dinner one cool evening. “That’s the plan.”

“Yes,” Beca says shortly because she doesn’t know what to expect.

He breaks into a smile. “I’m proud of you, Bec. You really stuck through it. And you’re almost done with tutoring forever. I assume it’s going well.”

That makes some of Beca’s previous elation dissipate quickly. “Yeah, it’s going well.”

It’s kind of hard to admit to her father that she’s kind of in love with the girl she’s tutoring. Not exactly dinner material.

- - x - -

Chloe <3 your original music is EVERYTHING I love it so much <3 And your voice!!!

Beca Glad you liked it :) I made it with you in mind

God, Beca knows she’s a sap, but she can’t help it. She can’t imagine what the freshman version of herself would say about all of this.

Chloe <3 Come over? I miss you

Beca supposes there isn’t much to say about that.

- - x - -

Somehow February flies by in a blink. Between tutoring and working part-time and the dawning realization that she really is going to move to New York at the end of the school semester, time is flying by far too quickly for Beca.

“Come with me to the studio today,” Chloe suggests. “I want to show you something.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, Beca,” Chloe explains, sounding very much like an exasperated adult lecturing a child. “Do you like surprises?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“I feel like you might like this one.”

“Will it involve sending your minion children to attack me?”

Chloe gasps. “No, but oh my God, that’d be adorable.” She smirks. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Beca grumbles to herself. “Fine,” she agrees. “But one whiff of sabotage and I’m out of there,” she promises with no real bite.

“Deal,” Chloe laughs and pulls her in for a kiss.

Beca ends up learning exactly what Chloe had been teaching her little rascals all semester.

“I used your original song,” Chloe says shyly when the first notes reach Beca’s ears. She loops her hand around the crook of Beca’s elbow, tenderly stroking her skin while being ever mindful of young eyes. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“You choreographed a dance to my song.”

Chloe nods. “I mean. Multiple," she admits sheepishly. "We started with your Rihanna remix. They love your music.”

“They’re ten.”

“Not that song. Your other remix. "We Found Love". I love that one," Chloe says in a dreamy tone. Beca knows exactly what Chloe is talking about. She had absolutely made it (as with most things recently) with Chloe in mind.

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, now entranced by the smiling, happy faces all around her. The dance is adorable and surprisingly complicated for a group of ten year olds.

It dawns on her fully that Chloe choreographed a dance to her music. Beca isn't necessarily one to really judge romantic gestures, but this makes something in her chest grow very tight. She can imagine the smile on Chloe's face as they had planned this little surprise over the previous few weeks.

“This is what I want to do,” Chloe says suddenly and so quietly that Beca almost misses it.

“You want to do what?” she asks, leaning into Chloe’s side, eager to feel the warmth from Chloe's body.

Chloe’s arm comes up around her shoulder naturally. “Teach. Teach kids. Teach them how to be better like you taught me...well.” She trails off, shy for once. “Like how you taught me.”

“You want to be a teacher,” Beca clarifies.

“Yeah.”

“Chloe, I think that’s perfect.”

And it really is so amazingly perfect. Beca isn’t quite sure what to do with this new information. It hadn’t been something they had talked about, Chloe’s post-grad plans. Beca had (wrongfully, she notes) assumed that Chloe would just continue on to work for her father and then eventually work on something like a medical degree like her brother.

God, the thought of more years in school makes Beca want to die.

“You think I could be a good teacher?” Chloe asks, insecurity creeping into her tone. “I’m not...I’m not good at explaining things like you.”

“I’ve seen you with these kids,” Beca assures her. “You care so much about them and everything you teach them. And please, as if I could ever choreograph something and then teach it to somebody. Everybody’s teaching style is a little different.”

Chloe flushes, pleased by the compliment. “I mean...I guess it’s something to consider, right?”

“Right,” Beca agrees.

“Also,” Chloe begins, nudging Beca. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’ve kept this whole singing thing from me. Imagine my surprise hearing your voice on that remix.” Chloe lowers her voice. “Surprise might be a loose word for it…”

Beca flushes this time, bright red. She can feel it on her face. “There are literally children around, Chloe. Shut up.”

“You can make me later.”

- - x - -

As expected, the lines blur between what they consider dates and Beca still keeping up the pretense that Chloe needs tutoring. With calculus well out of the way, statistics is an easier course to handle.

“We should study,” Beca murmurs, though she makes no move to wriggle out from underneath Chloe. She likes Chloe’s solid weight on top of her. She likes the feeling of Chloe’s soft curves pressed against her.

She likes knowing that Chloe is there.

“We should,” Chloe agrees. “I am paying you.” Her hand glides dangerously low down Beca’s belly before sweeping up again to gently grope at her breast, plucking at an already-stiff nipple.

Beca’s body is too easy.

“I don’t know if this was included in the lesson plan,” Beca breathes, though her hips have already begun to rock upwards against Chloe’s body to alleviate some of the pressure between her legs.

“Should I pay you extra?” Chloe asks, voice muffled by Beca’s neck. She begins to hum and whisper-sing into Beca’s neck, the opening bars to Titanium.

What a lovely voice, Beca thinks. She wishes she could have heard it more.

- - x - -

April comes too soon. After an extremely short spring break—thankfully spent along the coastal shores of Savannah at a quiet Airbnb (clothes optional)—Beca finds herself getting ready for a gala honoring Chloe’s father.

Beca knows that Chloe hates having to go to these kinds of events, but when she is the only daughter of the man who has buildings named after him on campus, it sounds like the kind of thing she has no real way out of.

“I think I am way too underdressed,” Beca complains, tugging at the fabric of her dress. “You look like a million bucks. I look like ten dollars. Maybe fifteen.”

Chloe laughs from where she is adding finishing touches to her make-up. The expanse of her back that is visible to Beca from where she is seated on the edge of Chloe’s bed sends all kind of dark, dirty thoughts through her head at an alarming pace.

Beca sits on her hands.

“You look wonderful,” Chloe says without even glancing in her direction.

“You didn’t even look at me.”

Chloe sighs, like she thinks Beca is being exceptionally annoying and puts down her mascara. Beca isn’t quite prepared for the heated, direct look Chloe fixes on her when she turns around. “I’m looking now,” Chloe all but purrs, stalking towards Beca with all the grace of somebody who knows exactly what she wants. “And I like what I see.”

“Oh,” Beca squeaks out when Chloe pulls at her hands so that they’re standing face-to-face.

“Stop worrying,” Chloe whispers, breath hot against her mouth.

Beca wishes she could just shut off her brain like that. “I’m not worried,” Beca murmurs, eyes trained directly on Chloe’s glossed lips.

“You’re worried,” Chloe singsongs before walking back to her vanity to again fiddle with her make-up.

Beca follows slowly. “You’re worried,” Beca says knowingly. Chloe rolls her eyes.

“No,” she replies. “I’m just annoyed that I have to go to this dumb event. Just to watch my dad get yet another award that he doesn’t need. A glorified paper weight”

“You don’t have to go,” Beca suggests even though she knows it’s a weak suggestion.

“Oh, yes I do,” Chloe laughs.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Chloe shoots her a look. “Are you sure you want to come?” she asks for the fifth time since she herself invited Beca.

Sighing, Beca reaches out so she can gently trap Chloe against the vanity. “Do you not want me to come?” she asks, trying to ignore the flash of pre-emptive hurt that rushes through her at the thought of Chloe not wanting her there.

“No,” Chloe says. Quick and urgent. Her eyes dart up to meet Beca’s in the mirror as she drops her make-up again. “No, I want you there,” she murmurs. “I just…don’t want you to be bored. It’s going to be boring and I don’t know how not boring I can make it for you.”

It is a reflection of Chloe’s influence on her that Beca’s first thought is something incredibly inappropriate for a gala, black-tie event. She stifles the thought, filing it away for when they return to Chloe’s apartment later that night.

“We can be bored together,” Beca suggests. “I downloaded like two episodes of The Office on my phone.”

Chloe relaxes, twisting in her arms. “Good episodes?”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“I like the idea of being bored together,” Chloe admits.

Beca nods, determined to brighten Chloe’s mood. “And there’s going to be free food.”

“I can’t promise it’s going to be good,” Chloe teases. “It’ll be that annoying fancy food that you hate. Just like in the movies.”

Beca reaches up to brush hair away from Chloe’s face. “Smoked salmon and cucumbers and crackers that I totally could have bought at the grocery store?”

“Yes.”

“I’m suffering through this for you so we’re definitely getting McDonald’s after.”

Chloe brightens, clearly charmed. She loops her arms over Beca’s shoulders, pulling her closer. Like each time Chloe pulls her into her orbit, Beca is breathless with how dizzying the force of her emotions are. “Carls?” Chloe asks eagerly.

“Pancakes it is.”

“Last chance,” Chloe warns. “You sure you don’t want to spend your Friday night with your friends?”

“Chloe,” Beca whines. “I want to be with you.” The words tumble from her before she has a chance to take them back or modify them to correct the course how deeply she actually feels for the woman in front of her. “I don’t want you to go alone. It’s final.”

“Beca,” Chloe murmurs. The heat in Chloe’s gaze makes Beca want to retract all her previous statements so they can spend the entire evening in bed. Beca’s sure she can convince Chloe.

Beca tries to smile innocently. “Is it working?”

Chloe sighs. “Is what working?” she asks with exasperation in her tone, but she is already stifling a smile.

“Making you feel better, weirdo.”

“I like the idea of coming home with you. That's making me feel better.”

Beca blows out a frustrated breath. She hates that Chloe can say impossibly sweet things but somehow make it completely dirty all at once. “Can I kiss you or will it mess up our lipstick?”

Chloe sighs exaggeratedly and finally sags fully into Beca’s arms. “I can fix it after,” she whispers before she is moving forward so that their lips can press together.

The event itself is nothing more than an opportunity for high-powered figures in academic and professional circles to schmooze with each other over expensive, endless alcohol and as Beca and Chloe had predicted, a surprising assortment of unnecessary finger foods.

“We should probably sit,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca startles, lowering her champagne flute from her mouth. She hadn’t thought about it before this very moment and it occurs to her that they’re probably going to be in plain view of Chloe’s parents. At the very least, Chloe’s father. Beca had tried to forget about that first dinner at Chloe’s parents’ house, but it was kind of difficult to shake Dr. Beale’s general intimidating force.

“We’re not sitting with your parents are we?” Beca asks in a panicked tone. She’s sure she has lipstick on her teeth.

“No, they get to sit with the other adults. I just get to be thrown into a photo later on.” Chloe smiles. “Why? Scared?”

“I mean, a little. Considering…” Considering we’re dating and now he knows I spent more time imagining you naked than tutoring you.

“Considering we have sex regularly,” Chloe finishes sagely. “Totally understandable.”

“No! Just...since I’m still tutoring you.” Beca hasn't necessarily considered their relationship like that in a long while. It is still jarring to think that other people perceive her and Chloe's relationship as being an entirely professional and educational one.

Chloe flutters her eyelashes. “You are?”

Beca swallows and quickly passes off her glass to a passing server. “Stop.” She glances around. “He could be anywhere.”

Chloe laughs and pulls Beca to sit down at their designated table. “You’re overreacting. He’ll probably be happy to see you. He thinks you’re a good influence.”

That eases some of Beca’s nerves for whatever reason. She supposes it might be something to do with the fact that her girlfriend’s father approves of her in some capacity (though not necessarily the right capacity). Beca allows Chloe to steer her into a seat.

Chloe politely greets the people seated at their table and makes small talk with some professors that Beca has no idea what department they’re even from.

It is a completely different world.

Beneath the table, Chloe’s hand moves to grip hers.

Beca never wants to let go.

/end ch. 4

read chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

#bechloe #pitch perfect #we are the wild youth #fanfiction #my fanfic #mine #text

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420letterstomyself · 4 years

Text

So... My boyfriend died

What a way to start a title. damn. But that is pretty much the long and short of it. I watched as he threw himself from a moving vehicle and gave himself a Traumatic Brain Injury that resulted in aneurysm that made him brain dead. It took two weeks to confirm brain death. I was with him in the ICU watching him die for two weeks.

No one lets me talk about it. I was in the vehicle at the time. I still live in the same house we lived in and sleep in our bed. I surround myself that gives me the slightest bit of joy because I literally cannot handle being sad right now.

Thanksgiving was a disaster. All I have really wanted to do for any holidays this year has bee hide in my bed and do nothing. No, I don’t want to hang out with my family. No, I don’t want to celebrate a god damned thing. I want to stay home and hide. The one thing I have been wanting to do since May but haven’t because I have a daughter and bills to pay.

Christmas is honestly the worst. Besides the fact that I am still in the first year of experiencing holidays without the love of my life. Christmas is also the time of year when I found out my ex husband was cheating on me. Shortly after I found the t shirt he jacked off into when his mistress would sext him. While he was sleeping in our bed right next to me. Real piece of shit this one. Yet another huge event in my life that no one lets me talk about.

I have a total of 4 actual friends in my life and I feel that no one has realized that there is a HUGE difference between friends and Facebook Friends. At least for me I am finding that my actual collection of friends is quite small. My Facebook Friends? Pretty sure they keep me on their friends list so they have someone to bitch about. That’s all I really am to my Facebook Friends, conversation fodder. I don’t trust easily, and after the man that promised me he wasn’t going to leave me behind on this world basically died in my arms, I barely trust anyone at all. Even my four best friends. I don’t trust any of them not to leave me behind, because that’s all anyone has ever done in my life. Alive or dead.

Truth be told, I would probably be a lot happier if I wasn’t living with the piece of shit (I can’t bring myself to call him a man) who caused my boyfriend’s death. He begged for forgiveness, and promised Mr. M’s mom that he was going to change and be a better man. He promised he was going to go to counseling and get help. Lies. All lies. He cares for no one but himself because he is nothing but a Narcissist. A truly trash human being that watch the little boy he raised kill himself because the man that took of the father role in his life didn’t like that Mr. M didn’t want to have a talk with him after he tried to choke him out. Golly. How fucking unreasonable. Mr. M wasn’t ready to accept an apology. He was still hurt and mad that the man be basically called his dad for the last 16 years attacked him and forced him to defend himself. Mr. M was hurt and this guy gave no fucks about anything but his own feelings. He is still the same now, except everyone calls him a murderer behind his back. However, his head is shoved so far up his own ass that he never notices. This dick weasel is the reason my favorite person in the universe is dead and he doesn’t give a single fuck about it. Honestly, the collective agreement in the house is that everyone keeps me from getting involved, because I was the only other person in that car. No one wants me involved because they all know I won’t hold back. They have no idea how dark I really am about the subject, but believe you me,The Universe will give me my karmic satisfaction. I just have to be patient. Which is really difficult when he keeps calling Mr. M’s mom horrible names like Cunt and Crazy Fucking Bitch. When he gets real angry he tells her she is a fat ugly bitch. In front of her remaining children. I just hope karma gets him before he ends up killing the rest of her kids or her.

She gets so close to kicking him out, but she just cannot physically make him do it. I don’t know why, she had left other men in the past for far less. Every time she fucking forgives him, it honestly stabs me in the heart. If it were up to me, if I had been Mr. M’s wife. That SOB would have been barred from the entire hospital. He would not have been allowed to so much as think about Mr. M. Hell, he wouldn’t have survived much longer after since there are a great many people just waiting for the chance to extract their own karmic justice. If I had my way, that would have happened. Instead, I sit and watch as his own mother continues to forgive the man that orchestrated her son’s death, and every time it kills me a little bit more and it insults her son’s memory.

Mr. M was my best friend, and the love of my life. I am so lucky to have had him in my life and his love. He loved me for all of me. I didn’t have to make myself smaller for him, I could feel my emotions as they were and he would support me in every way he could even if I just needed him to hold me while I cry it out. He never yelled at me, and always treated me with respect. I always knew that he would be on my side. There was no one in the world that I trusted more than him, because he worked his ass off to get to that point. He broke down my walls and proved to me that he was someone I could depend on. Because of that I was able to grow and become better, and be better. I would have my issues, and instead of making me feel guilty, he would make me feel loved protected and wanted. Now that’s gone, and I’m alone. The one thing that keeps me going is that if I reached The Summerland before my time, he would be so disappointed and disappointing him would be worse than living in this world without him.

I’m sitting out of Christmas this year. I can’t do it. I cannot bring myself to be surrounded by my family. The very people I trust the least in this world. The very people who sit and gossip about me behind my back and act like they want me around to my face. No one actually wants me around here. When I tell them all that I’m not doing anything for Christmas by choice this year, they will all breathe easier knowing that the family pariah will not be darkening their precious holiday dinner. However, not before the obligatory attempt to convince me to change my mind. Which will be only one attempt at the time of contact. No one will check up on me. No one will call to make sure I am okay. They will gossip about me behind my back and bond over how mutually relaxed they are now that I finally got a clue and realized that the last person to actually wanted me around died.

#venting #personal #death of a loved one #tw: death

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ivarswickedqueen · 6 years

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Pet names

Hi guys, this one shot was requested by my lovely friend @ivarsshieldmadien. I hope you gonna like this, love ♥

Paring: Hvitserk x reader

World Account: 4500

Warnings: 18+, nothing triggering I hope

Tags: @akamaiden @strangunddurm @betheworstyoucanbeandenjoyit @heathen-whore @hizz-hizz-mothertruckerz @93generation @gummiwormsandonedirection @missrobyn81 @vikingsandetc @minarawr @ethereallysimple @ivarslittlebadgirl@tephi101 @naaladareia @cbouvier23 @kerouacsroad @captstefanbrandt @ivars-snowflake @alicedopey @mblaqgi @steadypiepsychicflower @perfectus-in-morte @gwilson937 @mintandfigs @lisinfleur @ivarsrideordie

**********************************************************************************“ Y/N, please stop crying” your best friend Hvitserk begged you and patted your back. “I'm so sorry Hvitty, I wasn't expecting this. Everything was OK, and then he suddenly broke up with me!” You said and sobbed again, hugging him more tightly, your big tears soaked his shirt and he held you close, genty stroking your hair. “I told you so many times, that he is an asshole,” Hvitserk tried to comfort you but you started crying harder. He sighed and rocked you on his lap. “Please stop thinking about him, he is not worth your tears!” Hvitserk tried again, hating to see you like this. “I'm sure he had so many flaws, like that terrible sense of humor of his” he added and you smiled a little. It was true, Kevin always laughed at the weirdest things. “And his feet smelled horrible,” Hvitserk added and you chuckled. It was terrible. You always made him wash his feet when he came home, but his feet still smelled weird. “And I bet he sucked in bed. He was so boring and not adventurous at all,” he added with smirk. “It wasn't that bad,” you said hesitantly. “I bet he didn't make you cum,” he continued and you blushed wildly. Hvitserk was always talking openly about sex, but you have never discussed your sex life with him. But this was Hvitserk, your best friend in the entire world. You could tell him everything. “He did, but was never willing to…” you hesitated for a moment. “... fulfill my fantasies or should I say kinks?” you added and missed the cocky smirk on Hvitty’s lips. “What fantasies?” he asked you curiously. You bit your lips, your cheeks burning, but you decided to tell him. This was Hvitserk, he won't judge you, or tell you that you are weird, like Kevin did. “I asked him to talk dirty to me. You know, whispering into my ear, telling me all the things he wants to do to my body,” but he said, that it's disgusting. And maybe he's right” you added quietly. “No he is not, I told you he was boring!” Hvitserk said and you looked up at him. “Are you talking like this to your ladies?” “Sure. It's sexy to watch the girl squirm, few words and she is putty in my hands,” he smirked and you suddenly envied all of his girlfriends and one-night stands. “What else, Y/N?” he asked. “Well talking dirty in public is even hotter,” you admitted and Hvitserk chuckled, remembering about the time when he nearly made his girlfriend moan at her brother's wedding feast. “I also like the pet names, you know: pet, princess, baby girl, kitten, doll…” you named and Hvitserk watched you with more and more interest. “What else, Y/N?” His voice was deeper now, but you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice that. “Well, pet names are fun, but I also love the idea of being called whore or slut. Kevin told me, that I am kinky, and he doesn’t want to do anything like this with me,” you said sadly and Hvitserk hugged you tighter. “Kevin was an uptight asshole with no fantasy, and you deserve someone better, Y/N. I am sure, that soon you will find someone who will love to make all of your fantasies come true,” he assured you and kissed the top of your head, secretly hoping that you will realize that the man who is willing to make your fantasies come true is right next to you.

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

2 months later

“Where the hell is he?” you mumbled to yourself, while you were waiting for Hvitserk at his family house, watching his brothers fooling around the table, laughing and teasing each other. “Hey Y/N,” Ubbe smiled at you. “Hvitty just called that he got stuck in a traffic jam, but he will be here in few minutes,” he winked at you and sat next to his wife Torvi, whispering something into her ear, making her blush. You envied the blond woman, Ubbe was obviously a man, who didn’t have a problem to say something dirty into his wife’s ear at the family dinner. You didn’t love Ubbe, he was like a brother to you, and you just craved to find a man like him. You finally got over your ex boyfriend Kevin and decided that it’s a right time to start looking for a new man. You told Hvitserk and he said that he will hook you up with someone on this family dinner. So you were excited, and annoyed that he is late. Your phone started suddenly ringing, you looked at the screen and it was Hvitserk. “Well, hello, matchmaker, where are you?” you asked him playfully. “Stuck at the traffic jam, but I got a perfect idea, princess,” he said and you gulped, he never called you like this. He probably didn’t mean anything with that. “What idea?” you asked him nervously. "I know, that our family parties can be little bit boring, especially at the beginning when they are all sober. So I want to entertain you, kitten,” he added, his voice deeper now. “Hvitserk? What are you doing?” you asked, your voice shaking. “I just want to make sure that you will experience something exciting, before you find another boring asshole. Because let me tell you something, you have terrible taste in men, baby girl,” he explained and you thought about his words for a second. It felt so wrong and at the same time so exciting. “I'm not sure about this, Hvitty,” you said nervously, still not sure about all of this. “Come on, kitten, you know you want this,” Hvitserk purred and you never realized how sexy is his voice. “I have to admit something, doll. We have been friends since the kindergarten, but the idea of having you in my arms crossed my mind multiple times,” you swallowed hard and looked around the table. No one paid you any attention. “Do you want to hear, what I would love to do to you?” he asked you, almost whispering. “Yes,” you let out shakily and a huge smirk spread on Hvitserk’s face. “First of all, I would kiss that full lips of yours. They are so pink and perfectly shaped. Starting with simple peck, but soon I would nibble on that plush bottom lip of yours, asking you to open it for me. Would you do it, for me, little kitten?” he asked and you nodded, not realizing that he can’t see you. “Are you there, kitten?” he asked. “Y-y-yes I would do it,” you finally answered with hoarse voice. “Perfect, such a good girl,” he praised you and you felt the warmth running through your body. “Can you do something for me? Can you imagine my tongue sliding between your lips, past your teeth, gently touching yours? My right hand is on your hip, the left crawls slowly behind your neck, pulling you closer to me, our tongues dancing slowly together for a while, but then we both realize how much we want this and the slow dance turns into quick tango. I can almost hear those little moans coming from your delicious lips, when I am deepening the kiss, sucking your tongue into my mouth, pressing your body against the nearest wall,” you felt your cheeks getting warm and your face turning bright red, so aroused by his words, and he was only talking about kissing you. “Fuck, Hvitserk,” you cursed quietly and heard him giggle. You knew that you couldn’t sit here any longer. You stood up. “What are you doing, princess?” Hvitserk asked. “I can’t sit in front of your family, when you are saying such things into my ear!” “Yes you can, kitten. That's making it even more thrilling! SIT!!” he roared and it sent a current of excitement directly to your soaked cunt. You quickly sit down and smiled at Ubbe, who looked at you, confused. “It’s a call from work,” you apologized quietly and he nodded and turned his attention back to Torvi. “I'm sitting, please continue,” you said quietly and heard him giggle. “Look at you, kitten, so eager for me. So where were we? Oh, I remember I was about to start kissing your neck, placing open mouth kisses all the way down to your delicious breasts. I bet your nipples are already hard, baby girl. Aching for my fingers to touch them, for my tongue to lick them, for my mouth to suck at them hard and for my teeth to sank into them gently!” you were breathing harder, desperately trying not to show to everyone sitting around the table how aroused you are. “How far away from here are you now?” you asked him desperately. “Closer than you think, kitten,” he said and you saw him entering the front door of their house. “Stay on your seat like a good girl,” he ordered and you saw him ending the call and hugging his mother and father, saying "hi" to his brothers and their wives. When he finally sat next to you, you didn’t know how to react. He kissed your temple softly and that simple touch made you shiver. He noticed that and smirked. “I came here as fast as I could, princess,” he whispered against you ear, his hot breath tickling you. “You look so sexy, Y/N, with your pink cheeks,” he smirked sat on the chair next to you and placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, so he could start whispering into your ear. It wasn’t weird for anyone in the room, they were used to see you two talking to each other quietly. Hvitserk took you to family dinners often, because he never had longtime girlfriend and you were the only one of his friends who was loved by his family members. “So I guess that you liked the things I was saying into your ear, kitten,” he purred into your ear and enjoyed the look on your face, when he used that pet name. “Yes I loved that, Hvitty,” you admitted and bit your bottom lip. “Stop biting that lip, babe!” he growled into your ear. “Stop it, or I will toss you on this table and fuck you in front of my whole family,” he added and you shivered at that thought. His lips were so close to your ear that you could feel that he is smirking. “You would like that, you naughty kitten!” he said, surprised. “Who would have guessed that, maybe next time, baby girl? Ivar loves to watch other people fucking. Maybe we could let him watch us,” he proposed and you gulped loudly. You glanced at Ivar and studied his perfect face. You always fancied the youngest son of Ragnar, but Ivar was little too intense for your liking. But the idea of Ivar watching you and Hvitserk in the bed was exciting for you. “You are already picturing it don’t you, kitten?” Hvitserk teased you and you nodded slowly. “Fuck, Y/N, tell me why we never tried anything like this sooner?" he asked you. “Because we are best friends?” you suggested and Hvitserk laughed. “Trust me Y/N, we wouldn’t be the first friends who fucked each other,” he winked and stopped laughing when he looked into your lap. Your thighs were clenching together, trying to find some kind of friction, because his words and his proximity turned you into a soaking mess. “What is this, kitten? Are you trying to find some release?” he asked smugly and enjoyed your desperate expression. “Your pussy is already soaking wet!” it wasn’t a question, he was more than sure that your excitement already soaked through your panties. “How does it feel to be so wet in the room full of people?” he asked and placed his hand on your knee. “Exciting!” you breathed out. “Do you know what would be even more exciting, princess? If you cum in front of all these people,” he licked his lips and looked at you like a hungry lion looks on poor little antelope. “You can’t be serious, Hvitserk. That’s super inappropriate!” you tried to reason with him, but you already felt his hand moving up your exposed leg. You decided to wear a mini skirt tonight, so he had a plenty of room to work with. “I can see you perky nipples under your shirt, doll. I will taste them later in private, but right now, I would love to feel how wet you are for me,” he whispered and his fingers passed the hem of your skirt. “Open your legs for me, doll” he ordered, but you were scared to let him touch you in front of his whole family. “I said something, doll! Don’t make me repeat it, or I will have to punish you later,” he threatened and you felt shivers running down your spine. “What if I want to be punished?” you asked him innocently. “Oh, I will punish you!! For making me wait this long, kitten. Open. Your. Legs!” he demanded and scratched your thigh with his finger nails. You finally obeyed him and he ran his fingers along your drenched panties. “Jesus, kitten. You are soaking wet and I didn’t even touch you yet,” he almost moaned into your ear. You evidently weren’t the only one who had a hard time to keep your poker face. “Hvitserk, please, let’s get out of here!” you begged him desperately, when you felt his fingers touching your clit through your panties. “That would be rude, babe. I just arrived and my mum didn’t have one of her famous speeches yet,” he smirked and rubbed your clit clockwise, with growing intensity. You fought the urge to roll you eyes. You gripped the table cloth when his fingers pushed aside your panties and he rubbed your slick folds and withdrew his fingers from your aching sex. He licked them discreetly and hummed. “You taste so sweet, kitten!” he purred and you were honestly surprised that no one in the room didn't notice the sexual tension between you two. You watched him with total adoration. Kevin refused to eat you out and Hvitserk was licking your juices from his fingers like if it was the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. “Have you ever tasted yourself, baby girl?” he asked you and you blushed. “No,” you answered shakily. “That's a shame, Y/N. You taste so fucking amazing. I can't wait to have my mouth on your sweet little pussy, sucking all of your sweet juices, making your legs tremble!” “They are already trembling”, you admitted and he chuckled. “You are so responsive kitten. I can't wait to hear you moaning my name, to see your expression, when you will cum all over my thick cock. I will stretch you so good, honey. You will scream in pleasure,” he continued with this sweet torture while his hand snaked back between your legs. He was playing with your clit, when Ubbe asked him: “Hey Hvitserk, you are awfully quiet tonight. What's up?” “Nothing brother, Y/N was telling me about her new co-worker. Come on Y/N, tell Ubbe about your new annoying assistant.” he said with playful smirk. Is he serious? That fucker! You thought to yourself, but he obviously knew what you were thinking. “She is a young girl, she just finished high school and she thinks that she knows everything better than everyone else,” you started talking and Hvitserk's fingers began rubbing your clit in tight little circles. Ubbe nodded he was CEO in their family company and he probably knew a lot of young girls and boys like that. “She spends half on the day staring at her phone and when I say something to her, she just rolls up her eyes like this,” you said and took the opportunity to roll your own eyes in pure pleasure. “Are you sure that she isn't reading porn there, because it doesn't seem like a normal eye roll to me,” Ivar said smugly and you blushed deeply. “Stop embarrassing my best friend, brother,” Hvitserk said and slipped one of his long fingers inside your dripping pussy. “I just said my opinion, brother,” Ivar smirked and studied your face closely. You tried your best to keep your poker face but then Hvitserk added another finger and you had to close your eyes. When you opened them you saw Ivar looking at you knowingly with huge smirk spread on his handsome face. “You never actually told me what do you do for living, Y/N?” Ivar asked you, obviously enjoying seeing you struggling with keeping straight face. “I'm a… shop… assistant… in… a car company,” you managed to say slowly, because Hvitserk started pumping his fingers into you more quickly. “Car Company, you say?” Ivar asked and tried his best to not start laughing. “Would you take me for a ride, Y/N?” Ivar asked you, obviously not talking about the car ride. Hvitserk curled up his fingers, hitting your G-spot perfectly, causing you to almost moan out your answer. “YES, Ivar!” “You seem to be really excited about this idea,” Ivar smirked and watched you slowly falling apart, because of his brother's skillful fingers. And you were happy that no one else paid you any attention. Hvitserk suddenly pinched your clit, wanting to have all of your attention on him again. “Could you stop eye-fucking my little brother?” Hvitserk asked you and hit your g-spot repeatedly. You didn't know what to grab, so your hand ended up on his thigh, you squeezed it tightly, your orgasm nearly washing over you, when Hvitserk slowed down, and pumped his fingers into you in torturously slow pace. “Hvitserk, please!” you begged him quietly. “Would you like to cum, you little whore?” he mumbled into your ear, lightly circling your clit with his thumb. You nodded, pleading him with your big Y/E/C eyes. "I don't think you deserve that!” he smirked. “It seems to me, that you would rather have Ivar to make you cum,” he added and glanced at his little brother, who was watching you two hungrily. “No, Hvitserk, I want you, I want to soak your fingers,” you whispered shamelessly. “Are you sure?” He teased you and thrusted his fingers deeper inside your eager cunt. “Yes, daddy!” you breathed out and Hvitserk stopped and looked at you in surprise. “I'm so sorry,” you panicked. “It's OK, little one. Daddy likes it!” he licked his lips and increased the speed of his fingers again. “Daddy please,” you begged him little bit louder than you wanted and heard Ivar choking on his drink, because he obviously heard you. Luckily he was the only one in the room. You dared to glance at him and gasped when you saw his lustful eyes. “Y/N did Hvitserk ever told you that we always shared our toys?” Ivar asked you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Ivar wanted to say that he always stole our things,” Sigurd joined the conversation and Ivar rolled his eyes in annoyance. “No one asked for your opinion, snake,” he hissed and sent a death glare at his least favorite brother. “Ivar was right about the sharing, kitten,” Hvitserk mumbled into your ear and you felt your orgasm coming. “And you wouldn't mind?” you asked him. “No, but it's up to you babe,” he curled up his fingers again and you exploded around his fingers, biting your lip hard to prevent yourself from moaning. “I wouldn't mind. But not tonight, tonight I want to have you all for myself,” you smiled seductively. “Daddy,” you added and you saw him adjusting his pants. You bit your lip, when you saw the tent growing in his pants. You glanced at Ivar who seemed to be pissed that he missed the moment, when you came, because he was arguing with Sigurd. You turned your attention back to Hvitserk. “It seems that we have a little problem here, daddy!” You placed your hand on his bulge and squeezed it lightly. “Carefully, kitten!” Hvitserk warned you, but you ignored him and slowly unzip his pants. “What will you do? Will you spank me, daddy?” you asked him playfully. “Maybe. Or maybe I will give you to Ivar. He will tie you up and make you scream his name all night,” he smirked when he saw your eager face. “I forgot how kinky you are, my little slut!” He smirked and you both looked at Ivar. He couldn't hear your conversation, but he understood that you were talking about him. You slipped your hand into Hvitserk’s pants, stroking his cock through his boxers, while looking into Ivar’s eyes. Ivar’s eyes were kind of hypnotizing. His eyes traveled from your eyes to your hand which was moving discretely under the table. He smirked when he saw Hvitserk’s satisfied expression. He felt his own cock throb inside his pants, wishing it was his cock in your hand. You slid your hand inside Hvitty’s boxers and groaned quietly, when you felt his cock in your hand. “You are playing a dangerous game, kitten,” Hvitserk growled into your ear. “I 'm just returning the favor,” you smirked and ran your thumb across his thick head. “I would love to suck daddy under this table, but there is no way how to do it discretely,” you giggled and pumped your hand slowly up and down his thick shaft. “Fuck, Y/N,” he let out a quiet moan and you enjoyed the power you had over him. “You seem pale, my brother,” Ivar teased him and licked and bit his lips aggressively. “You really don’t seem alright, son. Maybe you should go to your room and rest for a moment,” his mother suggested, looking at her son with worry written in her caring eyes. “I… I probably should, mother,” Hvitserk nodded and you quickly stopped touching his cock, scared that his mother could come closer. He adjusted his pants and stood up, hiding his crotch behind your back. “Sorry, mother, I know how much you were excited about this dinner,” he apologized to his mother. “Nonsense, Hvitserk. If you don’t feel well, take some rest, I understand this, don’t worry, my son. Y/N can go with you and keep you company. Would you do it, my dear?” Aslaug asked you politely. “Of course,” you agreed and quickly followed Hvitserk inside his room. You felt Ivar’s eyes on you the whole time. “I'm so sorry,” you started, but Hvitserk didn’t let you finish and slammed you against the nearest wall. “You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N. And bad girls need to be punished,” he smirked and turned you around. He lifted your skirt, exposing your ass to his eager eyes. He grabbed a handful of your ass and kneaded it roughly. “Lesson number one, kitten,” daddy can tease you under the table, but you can’t do the same to him, because you obviously don’t know how to do it discretely. “It was Ivar’s fault!” you protested and he slapped your ass for the first time, making you moan loudly.

“Lesson number two: Don’t talk about Ivar, when you are alone with me” he spanked you again. “And lesson number three: You are my little whore and I will fuck you senseless!” another harsh slap landed on your ass. “Do you understand those lessons?” he asked and soothed your butt with his calloused hands. “Yes daddy,” you moaned out and hissed when he ripped off your panties. “Look at you kitten, you are so beautiful, dripping wet for your daddy,” he gripped your waist and turned you around. He looked deep into your eyes and finally kissed your lips. It felt like if you were made for each other. Your lips worked together perfectly, his tongue snaked into your mouth, fighting for dominance with yours. He obviously won that fight. “Fuck, kitten. No more foreplay, I need you,” he growled like an animal and tossed you on his bed. His lips were suddenly everywhere. He kissed you eagerly and sucked dark hickeys into the delicate skin on your neck one minute later. Your moans were louder and louder, when his lips reached your nipples. He gave them a lot of attention, before he headed south. “I need to be deep inside of you, but I have to taste you first,” he groaned and licked your wet folds, his tongue swirled around your clit, drawing lazy circles around the swollen bud. “I knew it, Y/N. You taste like heaven,” he hummed happily and thrust two fingers inside your tight hole, while sucking your clit into his mouth. You always heard his girls talking about his hungry mouth and you finally understood what they were talking about. He was sucking your clit, like if his life depended on it. “Hvitserk, I'm so close,” you moaned and he stopped and looked at you devilishly through his eyelashes. He licked your clit lightly couple more times and withdrew his fingers form your aching pussy. “What are you doing?” you nearly cried. “I want you to cum all over my cock,” he said darkly and you swallowed hard. He crawled on top of you and stroked his cock couple times. “You are so beautiful, baby girl,” he kissed you gently and slammed into you in one swift moment. “Fuck,” you cursed loudly, when he stretched your pussy. “You feel so good, you are filling me so good, Hvitserk. Fuck I already love your cock,” you said and wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him closer to you. “Shit, Y/N, you will make me cum in no time,” he hummed and started slamming into you hard and fast. You already felt your inner walls clenching around his throbbing cock. “You should say "HI" to Ivar,” he smirked and pointed at the hidden camera above his bed. The idea of being watched by Ivar made your pussy clenched around him even harder. “Keep squeezing me like this and I will cum already!” he warned you. “You won’t be the only one,” you smirked and whined, when he find your g-spot again. Hvitserk smirked and kept hitting it again and again, while rubbing your clit with his right hand. You arched your back and came hard all over his cock, triggering his own orgasm. He quickly withdrew his cock from you, covering your belly with his cum, not knowing if you are on pills or not. “That was amazing, Hvitty,” you smiled happily and kissed his plush lips. “That was just the beginning, kitten,” he promised you and licked your lips in anticipation. You looked directly at the camera and said: “Hey Ivar, why don’t you come here and play with us?” it only took 10 seconds, before you heard the familiar sound of Ivar’s footsteps.

#hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson fanfic #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #hvitserk x reader #vikings imgine #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #Alex Høgh Andersen #Marco Ilsø #marco ilso

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kylieryanette · 3 years

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Life and Decisions

I want to start this blog by apologizing for the delay. We took my son on vacation for his birthday and it took a very big toll on me. I was in flare up for a little over a week and basically just slept the entire time as my blood pressure was hovering around 80/50 and my pulse was struggling to get above 50. These flare ups take a lot out of me, but thankfully I have a wonderful family, son, boyfriend, and best friend who all helped to take care of me and made sure I was ok. Thankfully I was able to pull out of it on my own and I didn't have to go to the ER for fluids this time, progress! So, I've talked a lot about Dirk's side of the family, so I'd like to introduce you to my mother's side.

My grandmother, Carlene, grew up in Bloomfield, IA and was an honors english teacher for years. She passed away on June 24th, 2019, after fighting a thoracic aneurysm. She married my grandpa, Phil, on Christmas day 1965, right before he was deployed to Vietnam. Grandpa was also raised in Bloomfield. They had 3 children, my mom, my aunt Trisha, and finally, their son, Chad (you will find out why I refuse to call him "uncle" later in my blog). They grew up very poor, but full of family love and friendship. Everyone got together for birthdays, holidays, and when we moved to Bloomfield, we would have family dinners on Sundays. It was during this time that I met a lot of the people who would influence my life and decisions later in life. One of these people would have more of an impact than I could even imagine.

I met Austin Owen when I was 3 months old, right after he was born. Our mother's were best friends in high school, and she dated his uncle, Michael, all throughout her high school years. We were also around his paternal family, the Finneran's, quite often during my first few years of life. We would reconnect during the summer between my 6th and 7th grade years, at 12 years old, and we fell in love that summer. A love that would not let go until April 2020, at age 32, 20 years. When we moved back to Bloomfield in December 2002, we decided that we would be together, and we were, for about a year. He broke up with my right before homecoming 2003, and right after my life started to really unravel.

In October 2003, we lost our home in Glenwood, IA to a complete loss fire. Dirk had still been staying there during the week as both of our labradors, Lacy and Drake, were still there and he was still working in Omaha. He had been in Bloomfield that weekend, and the fire happened late Sunday night, after he had gotten home and gotten to bed. Thankfully, the dogs were able to wake him up and alert him of the fire. This should have been the end, but of course, it wasn't. The insurance company refused to pay, and instead, had the fire marshall investigate, and they brought Dirk up on arson and insurance fraud charges, something that would prevent them from getting a mortgage in Bloomfield until the charges were cleared up. This would prove to be the start of the end of my parents marriage.

My mother spent hours upon hours researching, reading the court transcripts and expert reports, doing more work than the lawyers. While she was doing this, Dirk had a girlfriend in Glenwood, and another in Des Moines, which was not anything new as this was a pretty constant thing for him, and he never really tried to hide it, from any of us. At one point, Dirk left while Kaitie and I were at school, draining the bank account, and just disappearing for a while, just to come back a week or so later with gifts, the typical Dirk way of apologizing without actually saying "I'm sorry". Right after this incident came the final straw for my mother. She and Dirk were in a verbal altercation in the living room of our rental house on N. West street in Bloomfield. I was in my bedroom trying to drown out the noise, until I heard Dirk say "you're a fucking cunt". That was it, I was DONE! I came out of my room, pissed as hell, and proceeded to chuck the remote control at his head. I missed, my aim for throwing was never any good. He came barreling at me and I ran into my bedroom, slamming my door behind me. He ripped my door off, pinned me down on my bed, all 120lbs of me underneath his hulking 250+lbs body. He had my by the throat with one hand and his other he had drawn back into a fist, I braced myself for what was coming. Thankfully, my mother came in screaming at him that she was going to call the police. She actually had to insert herself between his fist and me. He released my throat after what seemed like forever, and walked out of the front door. I remember having to remind myself to breathe, as I had been holding my breath during the entire altercation. I cried, she cried, we cried together on my bed holding each other, another bullet thankfully missed because of the quick actions of my mother.

Shortly after this, I started dating a man named Brock. He was smart, funny, and athletic, which is what I wanted at that time. I was so excited to have him meet my family, as Dirk had been back for a couple of days. I brought Brock into the front door and was greeted by mom and Dirk sitting on the couch, Dirks bags and suitcases all packed and ready to go. The first and only thing Dirk said was "I'm leaving", I turned to Brock and said "This is my family", not sure whether to be sad, embarrassed, happy, I had so many emotions flowing through me, it was a lot for my 17 year old mind to process in that instant. Even though I had been miserable, I had always feared being a "statistic", being in a divorce situation, splitting holidays (which turned out to never be an issue), having step-parents/siblings. What would life look like now? How would we do being on our own? He wasn't going to stick around Bloomfield, he made that perfectly clear. He ended up moving to Des Moines, in with a woman who he was proud to have "turned" from being a lesbian to being with him, *insert eye roll here*. He was also seeing a woman named Dawn, from Glenwood during this time. This would be the last time we would all be together under the same roof as a "family".

After Dirk left for good, mom took a job at the local newspaper so that she could be around more and could continue coaching us and being there for everything. This took a huge financial toll on her, and I had gotten my CNA during my junior year in high school, so I got a job at the local care center, working 2-10 on weekends and making around $12/hr, which was amazing for a high school kid. I tried to pay for anything I wanted beyond the essentials. My aunts Jodi and Gina, were gracious enough to pay for my senior pictures, class ring, and graduation materials, as we could not afford it. I continued to maintain my 4.3 GPA, remained active in all of my activities, clubs, choir etc. I took a lot of college classes my junior and senior year, graduating high school as a first semester sophomore in college. I was a very busy kid, but it kept my mind busy so I didn't have to deal with the mental and emotional pain, the physical pain from my medical conditions was still plaguing me, but I'd always been told to "rub some dirt in it and walk it off", so that's the approach I took to every aspect of life. Much easier said than done. I made some horrible decisions during this time.

My last year of high school and first year of college were a big party that included drinking, a lot, smoking pot when I could, smoking cigarettes, sneaking out, and sleeping around trying to find love and connection in anyone I could. I hated myself for a long time because of these decisions, decisions that I have now forgiven myself for because I know where they came from. No, I AM NOT condoning these actions, I'm just giving myself some grace, something I struggled with for years and years. Grace is such a powerful thing, not only to receive, but to give as well. It is amazing how much you can achieve when you learn about grace and its impact in your life. Grace saved me, and it continues to save me every day.

#trauma #self healing #narcissisticrecovery #mental health

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kuresoto · 6 years

Text

@lariren-shadow @extrakyloren why am i not surprised you both asked the same thing. also throwing in the prompt @wonderfulandfanciful asked for :)

12. “You’re an idiot. I’m an idiot. We’re the co-presidents of the Idiot Club.” 15. “Fuck you.” “Well, if you insist.”

Their relationship wasn’t conventional. He knew that, but he couldn’t find it in him to give a flying fuck. It didn’t stick to normal social standards and frankly, society could shove it. At least, that was how he thought years ago when he was still in denial.

Now it was just painful to have her so close, within his reach, and yet so far at the same time.

He wasn’t always so maudlin. In fact, it was only a recent development, and sometimes he wished he could go back to that simple life of being blissfully unaware that he was in love with his best friend. But alas, he couldn’t and so he found himself clenching and unclenching his fists as he stood outside her apartment, trying his best not to hyperventilate at the thought of her smile alone.

They had known each other for ten years, first meeting when he was in college and she fresh out of high school. Sure, their friendship made a lot of people turn heads and understandably enough. After all, what eighteen year old hangs around a twenty-seven year old? Everyone assumed they were sleeping together, and that itself was the source of many jokes between them. Back then, it was hilarious to even think they would hook up, ironically enough.

Ben sighed and rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He couldn’t remain standing outside her apartment all night, her neighbors would start to talk and then he would definitely get found out. It wasn’t not normal for anyone to loiter outside someone's apartment and with their history, he would normally barge in without even knocking.

He used to be so comfortable around her, not reacting one bit if she lounged over him in her oversized shirt and panties, or if he caught a glimpse of her breasts when she got changed, her bedroom door ajar because that was how they were. And he had done the same with her around in his own apartment. Heaven’s knew how many times she joked about his dick, never seen it herself but she knew enough from the numerous times he had to peel his dick from his sweaty ballsack on a balmy Summer’s day. Or whenever he would gasp in pain when his pubes got caught on his foreskin, Rey snickering at his misery.

How the fuck did he get through all those times without even once considering her more than a friend?

Oh, right. It was because they were both going through some fucked up shit and valued their friendship too much to ruin it with sex.

“But sex makes everything better!” His workmate, Hux, had said one time, right before he shoved the ginger man aside to get him to shut up. Hux was an idiot, and the last person to take relationship advice from, but somewhere along the line, Ben noticed that something had changed.

They both had been in relationships before, neither really minding whoever the other was dating at the time, but now, the thought of Rey with someone else just made his stomach churn. And the amusing thing was that a lot of their respective relationships had ended because their boyfriend/girlfriend always got jealous of how close they were. ‘It wasn’t right’, they would comment, or ‘you’ll never love me like you do Rey/Ben’. The last comment was correct though. They had exchanged I love you’s in the past before, like when he surprised her with breakfast to celebrate the anniversary of her getting out of the Foster Care System, or when she changed his motorcycle tyre when someone asshole slashed them. ‘I love you’ was so innocuous back then. Now, it felt wrong to even think it, like he was lying to her or betraying her trust in some way.

Both knew how important the other was, it was the closest thing they had to family, and he wasn’t going to ruin it just because he would wake up more often than not with her name on his lips. And he refused to think of the times he would jerk off to the voicemails she left him, her accented voice calling him a dumbass and reminding him not to leave his keys at home. (Thankfully, that time was before his revelation, and thus had no problem crashing at Rey’s place, in her bed with her sprawled over his naked chest. Because that was a thing they were okay with. The thought of doing that now made his pants uncomfortably tight.)

Besides, he was almost sure Rey wouldn’t want to have sex with him. Ninety-nine percent sure, mainly because of that one time she agreed with an article that said guys who were more well-endowed were poorer at sexual intercourse. It didn’t bother him then, but now he just constantly cursed the heavy appendage between his legs.

He blew a long sigh and rested his forehead against her door. He really should go inside. It was past dinner and his stomach was growling. If he was going to wallow in his pathetic misery, he might as well do it with a full stomach.

Rey was lounging on the couch when he finally mustered the courage to enter. “Finished having your existential crisis out there, Ben?” she asked, eyes still glued to the TV, watching some horrible reality show.

He froze at her words slightly before he forced himself to relax. “Yep.”

She turned around and leaned against the back of her couch, watching as he mooched off her leftovers. “You’re such a weirdo,” she said, grinning as he rolled his eyes.

“Should you be calling me a weirdo when you leave your front door unlocked?”

“I knew you were out there.”

He didn’t say anything in response, merely settling on the couch next to her to watch a show that decreased his IQ by the second. He took one bite of the curry she made and gagged. “Holy shit, Rey. What the fuck is this?”

“It’s curry!” She looked affronted.

“Yeah, it looks like curry, but why is it bland?”

“No one is forcing you to eat it!” She tried taking the bowl from him but he lifted it beyond her reach. “Fuck you!”

“Well, if you insist.”

He realised immediately that he said those words aloud, keenly aware of Rey’s frozen body and her proximity. Neither moved, both perfectly still as the clock on the wall counted the seconds that passed. After what felt like an eternity, he swallowed the lump in his throat and lowered the bowl onto the coffee table. She followed his movements, sitting back on her knees and watched him with wide eyes. His teeth gnawed the inside of his mouth, internally berating himself for not catching himself.

The silence between them was unbearable. He had to get out of there, fast.

Hauling himself off the couch, he made a beeline for the door, only to have his shirt yanked back, seams ripping loudly. He whipped around and saw Rey, face red and fuming. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“For you being a fucking cunt!”

He gaped at her, not quite believing his ears. “What?”

Rey swung her body over the back of her couch and bared down on him like a feral animal. He never saw her so furious. “You! Something fucking happened, Ben! We were fine, we were great! Until you started hiding shit from me!”

“I didn’t hide anything from you!” he argued, temper flaring at her accusations.

“Yeah, you did! You became distant! I thought it was something I did. I mean, why else would you stop talking to me?”

“We’re talking right now!”

“You know what I mean!!”

He did. He knew exactly what she was talking about, and he had hoped she wouldn’t notice. They would see each other like normal, and he would still answer her calls, but he was not going to fucking reply to her texts about some guy asking her out. No way in hell could his mind handle that.

“-and now you basically ask me to be your fuckbuddy? Do you think nothing about what we’ve been through?”

“What?” Her ramblings snapped him from his reverie. “I did not say that.”

“Then why would you say that, huh? Why would you insinuate fucking me if not as a fuckbuddy?” Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and it broke his heart.

“Maybe because I love you?” he said weakly, hands coming up to cup her face, thumb swiping at her falling tears. “Is that such a hard thing to believe?”

“You’re just saying that,” she said with a waterlogged voice.

He pressed their foreheads together. “No,” he said softly. “I’ve always loved you. Always, but Rey, there’s only so much I can take.”

She sniffled. “What do you mean?”

“How the hell am I supposed to reply to a guy asking you out when all I want is to have you for myself?”

She let out a whine and smacked his shoulder repeatedly. “What else was I meant to do? You started acting weird and then you stopped sleeping over! I thought maybe this was it. That I had done something, maybe was too forward and familiar with you that it chased you away.”

His rebuttal died on his tongue when her words sank in. With narrowed eyes, he chased her eyes, which conveniently avoided his. “Rey,” he said with warning in his voice. “What do you mean ‘too forward and familiar’?”

She looked so goddamn cute with her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. “I’ve wanted to be more than friends for a while, Ben, but never knew how to ask-”

He didn’t let her finish her sentence, he was too impatient and too relieved to stop himself. Her lips felt so soft and she tasted amazing. All his daydreams of what it was like to kiss her was nothing compared to the real deal. And her greedy little tongue was pushing past his lips, hungrily kissing and sucking his bottom lip. Fuck, they had to stop or else he was going to embarrass himself.

They broke apart and stared at each other, faces flushed and lips ruby red. And then she giggled. It was such a Rey thing to do, never good at handling long periods of silence. “You’re an idiot,” she laughed. “You’re an idiot. I’m an idiot. We’re the co-presidents of the Idiot Club.”

Ben grinned and dropped butterfly kisses on her nose. “Yeah, we are.”

Suddenly, she sobered up and looked at him seriously. “Ben.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t destroy me with your monster cock.”

#reylo #rey x kylo #rey x kylo ren #reylo fic #it real fuckin dumb #and longer than i anticipated #i hope it's okay? :////#*mine #*fic

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thearcaneescape · 6 years

Text

Chapter 6

There was such a thing as too much hope, and Hoseok definitely suffered from it.

It showed in him hoping he would get ice cream after his two front milk teeth were ripped out before they were even loose.

It showed in him hoping he’d get a date with that one cute girl in Year 6.

It showed in him hoping he’d pass Sixth Form with flying colors and get into his first choice university.

It showed in him hoping Joshua would let him live with him even after the break-up.

And now it showed in him hoping everything went well in the dinner.

The door slammed, making Hoseok wake up, half-awake, half-asleep, a horrible, horrible feeling. Angry, hushed voices followed, and he sat up, straining his ear to eavesdrop.

“That wasn’t the way to deal with it, Seokjin.” Joon’s voice was almost a growl, and Hoseok could almost see their face in his mind’s eye, dark and angry.

“What other fucking way could I have handled it, Namjoon?” Jin’s voice was equally as harsh, a bitter venom dripping from how he said Joon’s full name. It was obviously meant to hurt as much as Joon using his full name was.

A soft slap of fabric against the wall or the kitchen table, a muffled groan of anger and disappointment from Joon. “You shouldn’t have called him a fucking child in the first place! He’s an adult.” Their voice was shaking with barely-controlled emotion, whether from frustration at Jin’s words at the dinner, or the fact that Jin had called them Namjoon.

A snort from Jin. “He’s barely fucking 20. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

The silence was deafening, until heavy footsteps started making their way back to the front door.

“Unbelievable.”

“... Where are you going? Joon?”

“I’m going to Sugar’s place. I can’t be here right now without doing something I’ll regret.” The door closed gently, and this silence was even more deafening as it felt heavy and charged with emotion. Hoseok climbed out of bed, walking out of his room slowly.

“Jin? What happened?”

A shaky breath before a trembling and hitching sob, and the older curled in on himself. It was like watching a marble statue crumble, falling into a flat-footed squat, hand over his mouth and he shook with sobs. Somehow, Hoseok could tell this had never happened before. He crouched next to Jin, lightly stroking his bent back to comfort him.

Getting a text from Jungkook the next day was a heavy weight in Hoseok’s stomach. He felt guilty. He’d pushed the younger to talk to whoever he liked, and now Jin was curled up in his and Joon’s room, Eomuk and Odeng either napping or yapping next to him, Joon was still at Sugar’s place, no phone call or text had come in saying when they’d be back.

Jungkook

can you meet me @ the café you, Jimin and Tae went to?

Hoseok

Ok, I’ll be there in ten.

He looked up from his phone, back at the semi-shut door to Jin and Joon’s room, the dead silence a heavy reminder. Finishing up his breakfast, he dressed and left the flat, leaving behind a small sticky note on the pot of oatmeal and another one on Jin’s door. It was almost as if he was being torn in half between hearing his roomates’ side of the whole situation and Jungkook’s, but even so, he knew it was his fault.

“I should’ve just left it alone. I just fucking ruined everything.” He muttered, traversing well-wandered streets. “Just like I fuck up everything else.”

The café loomed in the distance, and while it was a lovely sight last night, today it was an omen. Of what, he couldn’t say but it filled him with dread.

“Welcome to the Busy Bean Café! What can I get you?”

Hoseok ordered, and went to sit at one of the booths, pulling out his phone to text Jungkook and Joon. He was worried about them and Jin. He’d never seen them fight, and if they had a disagreement, they talked through it calmly and carefully. He admired them for that.

“Iced caramel macchiato for Hoseok!”

He stood up quickly, grabbing his drink and hurrying to sit back down, phone unbearably quiet in his pocket. It took a while but halfway through his drink (his name surprisingly spelled correctly, maybe they had a Korean employee or something) Jungkook walked into the café, dressed down in black track pants and a paint-covered hoodie. The hood was pulled up, covering unbrushed hair and casting shadow on already dark, heavy black bags under normally bright and wide eyes. He looked up to scan the café, and the dead look behind his eyes made Hoseok flinch, hand tightening around his cup. The older raised his hand, and Jungkook nodded before walking towards him, hands buried in the front pouch of his hoodie.

“Hey.” His voice was rough and dry, like he’d smoked ten packs of cigarettes last night after crying for hours. Another sharp jolt of guilt stabbed through Hoseok, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Heya. How-how did it go yesterday?” His voice cracked, nerves shot and belly full of lead, tensing slightly to stop from flinching when Jungkook let out a dry laugh.

“It went like I knew it was gonna feckin’ go. Like feckin’ shit.” He leaned forwards with a groan, bumping his head gently against the tabletop. “I was stupid to think it was gonna go any other way.”

Hoseok chewed on his lower lip, a dark cloud settling over them both. Suddenly the sweet drink in his hand was no longer comforting, but cloying in the sweetness of it, making him feel sick. He pushed it away, licking his teeth to get rid of the taste. “What happened?”

“Oh, so they didn’t tell you?” Jungkook looked up sharply, the sudden emotion in his eyes making Hoseok jump. “We all went to have a relatively nice dinner. You know how incredibly feckin’ intuitive Joon is, right?” The volume of Jungkook’s voice was steadily rising, as well as the panic and despair in his eyes. “Towards the end of the meal, instead of lettin’ me approach the subject on my own, apparently they’d both talked when I went to the feckin’ loo. What happened when i got back? I got called a child, and told that I was too young to understand what I wanted in life.” His hands were bunched up in his hair so tightly, Hoseok was afraid he’d rip out a massive chunk of hair. Never mind the bruises on his knuckles.

“Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook laughed, dry and high-strung, dropping his hands into his lap, a border-line hysterical smile on his face. “‘Oh fuck’ is correct. I can barely remember what happened next, but I know I relapsed. I got drunk, I smoked and…” A shudder ran through him, and he brought his hands up from his lap, bruises and raw skin bright against his tanned skin.

“Oh, fuck. I-I’m sorry, Jungkook. Fuck, if I hadn’t said shit, none of this would’ve happened. I fucked everything up.” The dam keeping all of Hoseok’s emotions in check finally broke, and even then he was fighting to contain his tears.

“It’s not your fault, mate. If you hadn’t told me to talk to them, I would’ve just stewed in my emotions and relapsed without confrontation. This wasn’t the worst I’ve done. Believe me.” Jungkook cleared his throat, looking away. “How… How are they? I ran out of the restaurant after Jin called me a child. I had to get out of there before I caused a scene.”

Hoseok didn’t want to tell him that Jin was buried under his duvet, unwilling to move. He didn’t want to tell him that Joon had left the flat after their own partner had used their full name against them. He didn’t want to.

“That bad, huh?”

Hoseok’s attention snapped back, and he bit his lip before nodding.

“Don’t worry, those episodes of them not talking to each other don’t last long.” Jungkook muttered, a slight resentment in his voice. “They’re feckin’ perfect for each other.”

He knew something was going to go wrong that night. He just didn’t know how wrong.

“Kook!”

The dilapidated bar now boasted a new addition to the damages, a massive hole in the wall behind the bar, blood dripping from Jungkook’s hand. How it had gotten to that point, Hoseok wasn’t sure, but maybe it was because Jin wasn’t there, or because Joon was deathly silent. You would never see one without the other, and now Hoseok regretted not mentioning how bad the fight between the two actually was, because this time Jungkook’s anger was definitely aimed at him.

“You said it was just a small argument.”

“I didn’t say shit. I didn’t want to make you feel any worse than you already did.” Hoseok raised his hand, stepping back slightly, knees shaking. “You made the assumptions.”

“Oh, get off your high feckin’ horse, ya daft cunt.” Jungkook snarled, licking his teeth behind his lips. “You’re no feckin’ better. Treating me like a child while you’re the one who thought yer ex would let you stay at his feckin’ flat. How much of a prat can you be to even think that?”

“Jungkook!” Jimin’s shrill scream wasn’t strong enough to keep Hoseok from getting progressively angrier. He grabbed the glass he’d been cleaning and threw it, emotions running far too wild to stop himself.

“You hide behind this fucking bravado, you absolute wanker! How about you stop fucking acting like a child so people stop treating you like one!”

“ENOUGH!” Sugar’s voice rang through the empty bar, freezing Hoseok’s blood instantly. Regret, despair, worry and fear all came crashing down on him, hot on the tail of his extinguished anger.

“Both of you, get the fuck out of my bar. This is unacceptable behaviour, and you’re both acting like children. Neither one of you has any, any, right to behave this way, and if you can’t behave yourselves today, then you’re not allowed back in until you’ve both talked this through like adults. If I get wind of either one of you continuing to be this unbelievably thick-headed and proud, rest assured you are not coming anywhere near my bar or my family.” The calm, composed nature of Sugar’s threat made the air chill, the dark cloud returning to hover over Jungkook and Hoseok. “Now get the hell out.”

Jungkook grabbed his jacket and stormed out, not sparing a glance back at the group. Hoseok, on the other hand, felt lightheaded and ill, and through blurry eyes could see the panic in everyone’s faces as he crumbled to the ground, fainting.

#so this kinda got outta hand but the angst is necessary #im also gonna tag jungkook punching walls as self-harm because he's based pretty heavily on myself #namjin #vmin #ansgty namjinkook #Hoseok can't handle fights to well #bts fanfiction #the arcane escape

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asktemmie-frisk · 6 years

Text

Furious Flying Fur (Lost and Found Arc)

About 2 weeks after their first therapy session, Frisk, Chara, Asgore and even Asriel started feeling a lot better about themselves. Things were starting to look up for them all. Even Toriel's tune changed when she saw that Chara and Frisk stopped harming themselves. Frisk started feeling more confident and stable, and Chara's hatred toward humans ebbed down to a minor annoyance.

Then came one day when the evening rolled around. Toriel was grading Frisk and Chara's assignments from their homeschooling sessions. As she decided to take a break, she saw Frisk and Chara in the living room, sitting next to each other as they watched a bad movie.

"Well, isn't this a fine sight for sore eyes." She said, noticing the couple's sedated moment.

"So, no appointment today?"

"Nope. We're just watching a bad movie together." Frisk said, still staring at the screen.

"Besides, we finished our homework, so we have some free time to just do whatever."

"Well, that is good. Just be sure to come into the kitchen to help me cook dinner when I call for you."

"Sure. Whatever."

"Hey mom, wait." Chara said, realizing Frisk was talking to Toriel.

"Yes, my child?"

"Can we talk?"

"Well, sure. What did you want to talk about?"

"It's about...your former relationship with dad."

Toriel instantly seized up in anger that remained hidden until that moment.

"What...about...your father?" She asked, clenching both her fists.

"I just wanted to ask if you would like come with us on our next appointment so we could really talk about your old flame a little."

"He was never an 'old flame'. He was a whiny little bitch that I raped because he was too fucking spineless to DEFEND HIMSELF BEFORE I LEFT HIS FUCKING ASS!"

Toriel became profane, and she set her left arm on fire. She ignored the flame that danced on her fur.

"He is NOT spineless! He's just a nice person that-"

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit, Chara! You honestly think that's the truth?! The truth is he's a fucking pussy, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

Chara made her creepy face in frustration and anger.

"He...is not... A PUSSY, MOM! You just never treated him like he mattered until it was too late to! Stop trying to act like what happened is all his fault!"

Toriel started to get savage with her language, and she threw in a hint of sarcasm to add insult to injury.

"You know what? You're right. It ISN'T all his fault. It's all YOUR FAULT, YOU FUCKING CRETIN!"

"Excuse me?!"

"No, you're not excused yet. If you hadn't tried to kill yourself like a fucking dumb little cunt, none of this would've happened!"

Chara lost her creepy face and started to cry with anger still present.

"I know you don't mean that, mom."

"Oh, I did, you dumb fucking bimbo. Since when do you know anything about anything? Your parents died because they had you, and-"

Frisk punched Toriel in the face hard enough to knock her down.

"Stop talking to Chara like that." He said as his eyes glowed red and black.

"Fuck you, you little mutt. Or should I say son of a bitch, because THAT'S BASICALLY WHAT YOUR MOM IS?!"

Frisk lost his temper, and lunged at Toriel, ready to brutually kill her. Chara grabbed him as hard as she could, holding him back.

"LET GO, CHARA!" He snarled with murder in his eyes.

"No, please! Don't kill mom!" Chara asked with tears in her eyes.

Frisk relented, but he didn't lower his guard as he growled at Toriel. Toriel had enough of this.

"Get out." She said in a low voice, not noticing Asriel was watching from the doorway.

Chara was shocked. She couldn't believe what she just heard.

"What? What did you say?"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE! GET OUT OF MY LIFE, TOO! AND TAKE YOUR FUCKING MUTT YOU CALL A BOYFRIEND WITH YOU!"

Chara gasped in shock, and started crying harder.

"Fine. I'll pack my stuff and go to dad's."

Chara cried silently as she went upstairs to quickly pack up her things, ignoring Asriel as he watched in shock and awe. Frisk followed angrily and went to his room to pack his things as well. Asriel got angry as he heard what happened. Then after a few minutes, Flowey started talking to Asriel in his mind. Let me out; I have something to tell that bitch, the alter-ego said to the prince. Asriel obliged, and Flowey came out to ruin Toriel completely. He violently grabbed Toriel, ready to shout her head off.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He said as Toriel started to tremble.

"Wha? Asriel, why are y-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! ASRIEL AIN'T HERE TO SAVE YOUR FUCKING ASS, YOU GOAT BITCH! In fact, the only things saving you from me are about to leave!"

"What do you mean the o-"

"Mom, if you need Frisk and I, we'll be at dad's place." Chara sadly declared as she and Frisk carried their luggage to Asgore's house through the front door.

Frisk closed the door behind him, but not before flipping Toriel off with black eyes that had Toriel's reflection in them. The elder boss monster became petrified, realizing what Flowey had said.

"See that? Your only arguable protection, and you kicked them out of your life FOREVER! Now you have nothing to save you, nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run! I can make you suffer as I wish now!"

Asriel's horns grew longer and curved down a little before curving back up. Then Flowey laughed at Toriel's now hopeless situation...which was actually well deserved, especially since she did cause it!

"Now then, since you and I have some alone time, and your son isn't going to interfere, I want to know what the fuck is wrong with you, Toriel."

Toriel trembled in fear as Flowey asked the question.

"Isn't it obvious? Nothing's wrong with me."

"Then why did you rape your husband and threaten to kill him, throw him and your entire kingdom under the bus, and let six children go to their deaths before finally deciding to do something about it?"

Toriel didn't have an answer.

"That's what I thought."

Toriel scowled at Flowey while he was in control of Asriel.

"You don't care about Asgore. You don't care about anyone. The only person you would care about is Chara, Flowey. You said it yourself. And even then, you can't TRULY care about them."

"At least I was fine with that! At least I was okay with not being able to genuinely care about Chara! I'm the one whose soulless! You, on the other hand, I know what you wanted. You wanted to use Asgore for as long as you saw fit, and then discard him. So if you really think about it, you're why I'm like this. All being soulless did was give me a reason to not feel bad about it. As for you, you have a soul, but never ONCE did you act like you need or deserve it. I'll admit it, I did kill a lot of people before Asriel got to come back and have us both become one person, but at least I was honest about it! You, on the other hand, you almost killed Asgore by bringing him to such a desolate mindset. YOU'RE the one who should be ashamed of yourself, not Asriel, not Chara, and ESPECIALLY NOT FRISK!"

Toriel started tearing up. She couldn't believe how horrible Asriel's soulless side was being to her, despite technically both sides having at least one soul.

"Stop it. Why are you being so heartless? You think I'm wrong to have wants?"

"WANTS?! YOU CALL MAKING THE KING YOUR SEX SLAVE AND TREATING HIM LIKE SHIT 'WANTS'?! Why are you trying to defend yourself? And why do you do that stupid high class bullshit? You know you're beyond terrible."

"What, I'm not allowed to have hope that people don't think of me as despicable?"

"HOPE?! YOU CALL YOUR REFUSAL TO CHANGE YOUR OLD WAYS IN THE EXPECTATIONS OF EVERYTHING TO GO IN YOUR SPECIFIC FAVOR 'HOPE'?! The very notion of what you're saying is laughable at best! To be brutally honest, YOU'RE A WALKING JOKE, TORIEL!"

Flowey dropped Toriel back on the ground, laughing uncontrollably at her despair. He found a lot of pleasure in seeing this boss monster cry her eyes out.

"Stop it." She meeked begged.

"Why should I?! The only decent people in your life cared about you, and you threw them out like a piece of trash! And now you're deciding to take them back because you think you can make amends?! The very notion is comical to me!"

"Why are doing this to me? Stop treating me like this. Stop hurting me so much."

"I'm not even hurting you, idiot. And plus, I'm not treating you badly or anything. All I'm doing is giving you a taste of your own medicine. Doesn't taste so good, does it? Now that 'hubby' isn't here to take your meds for yo-oh, pardon me- 'EX-hubby'. Anyway, you're getting back what you put out. You got your privacy, but you lost your protection and family. You got what you wanted, but in exchange, you lost what you had. And to make matters worse for you, what you had and what you needed most of all were your family, and you gave it all up, all because of one little argument that escalated into something it shouldn't have been! That's why it's so funny for me to watch people's lives go up in smoke!"

Flowey cackled evilly as Toriel started getting angry.

"Stop. It's...it's...IT'S NOT FUNNY, YOU OVERGROWN WEED!"

Toriel was angry enough to set both of her entire arms alight. She was sick and tired of having to feel so bad about her past and get judged through its entirety.

She stopped caring whether Asriel was still there or not.

"Oh, so you're gonna fight me, eh? This is great! THIS is what I've been waiting for! It's one thing to remind people of how horrible they really are, but it's WAY more amusing if they start trying to 'prove it all wrong'! Those are the people that are actually interesting to me because they're willing to defend themselves until the end!"

"DAMN RIGHT, I'M GONNA DEFEND MYSELF! I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE UP EXCEPT FOR MY OWN LIFE, SO COME AT ME, YOU FUCKING WEED! I'M RIPPED!"

Toriel became angry enough to completely engulf herself in flames, similar to a respective aura. Flowey simply laughed at her as the fight commenced.

"Look at you! Trying to make me scared of you like it's gonna make a fucking difference! Don't worry about that, lambchop! I'll wipe that pride off your face in no time!"

Toriel used her fire magic in a propulsive manner, charging to Flowey, only to have her supercharge get abruptly interrupted by a knee to her chest, literally knocking the wind out of her and extinguishing her flames at the same time. Flowey violently grabbed her again and stood her up, holding her by her neck. After she was steadied, he landed a punch to her face. She dodged another, only to have a vine spring up out of the wall and sucker-punch her in her cheek. The force was enough to knock her down to the ground. She got up and tried to claw at Asriel, missing every time except for the last one, which resulted in nothing but a light grazing that couldn't even break his skin. Flowey guffawed mockingly and jabbed her stomach again, causing her to cough a little blood. She fell to her knees to catch her breath and recover from the blow to her stomach as Flowey stood over her in a domineering manner.

"I can't believe it. Is that all you got? 'Cause if that's all you've got, then I can't believe you're really this weak."

Flowey forcibly slammed his foot into Toriel's back, causing her to bellow in pain. He kept kicking her while she was down, listening to her cries of anguish and enjoying every impact like it would be his last. After 30 seconds of "playtime" with Toriel, he stopped as he saw she was thoroughly defeated, crying in pain.

"Please. No more." She tearfully begged.

"Please, just...please stop."

Toriel couldn't dry her eyes, no matter how hard she tried. She felt weak and powerless.

"I'm sorry, Asriel. You must hate me so much now."

Toriel was completely aware of what she just said to Flowey and Asriel. And why wouldn't she be? She got herself in the mess she created, and she couldn't get out. I don't deserve to be with anyone anymore, she said to herself. I had it good, and now my family fervently hates me. With a passion. I should just tell Flowey to end this PATHETIC farce I call a life. As Flowey looked down, he got bored seeing Toriel's pathetic frame. Then he noticed the locket Asgore gave to her. He took it off of her.

"See, Toriel? I got your precious heart locket, or should I say 'soul' instead?"

Flowey dangled it in front of her, trying to get a reaction out of her. His efforts worked perfectly.

"That's my locket...give it back to me." Toriel grunted, trying to pick herself up through her tears using her rage.

"Aw, what's the matter? Oh, you want your ba-ba? You gonna cwy if you don't-"

Toriel swiftly punched Asriel in the groin, causing Flowey to scream in pain and drop the locket. She quickly scrambled to it and latched on, almost like if she let go even for a second, it would be gone forever. Flowey quickly recovered from the cheap shot Toriel took.

"Damn, that fucking hurts! Still up to actually fight?! GOOD! I WAS HOPING YOU-"

"NO!"

"NO?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'NO'?"

"I mean 'no'! I'm not fighting you anymore."

Toriel was still angry, but she was also beyond sad.

"I am PISSED THE FUCK OFF BEYOND ALL REASON, but I am NOT fighting! I concede. I yield. I cannot continue. I don't know why I tried to fight you in the first place, especially since I knew it was a doomed bout. You are correct about everything you said. I was right to be bested by you. I give up. Do what you will at this point. I don't care. Just make it quick."

Toriel gave up, completely relenting to whatever mercy Flowey had for her.

"Fine. If that's how you want it, then consider this meeting done, Toriel. I think it's time Asriel got a say in this."

Flowey went back to Asriel's mind as the young boss monster looked at his mother in disappointment.

"You know, mom, you're lucky Flowey decided to spare you. You're lucky to get away from him with your life." Asriel said, looking down at his mother.

"Asriel..." That was all Toriel could say in her shock.

"Wait. Hold on. Did I say 'lucky'? And with such a dreaded life like yours? How cruel of me to remind you of how abysmally awful you feel because of your mistakes from your past finally catching up to you. For shame!"

Asriel turned away from his mother, facing the stairway as he took a few steps to it, but not ascending. Flowey came out one last time to berate Toriel, but Asriel was still in control, so they both spoke in unison with a distorted voice.

"You are so wretched that I don't need to meddle in your PATHETIC life to make it more miserable than it already is. So you know what, Toriel? I'm not going to kill you, and I'm not taking your soul either. No. Now I have a much better idea. Instead of what I did in the past, I'm gonna take a more pacified option. I'm gonna let your own pain end your own sad existence. Yes. If there's one thing I know best about people hating themselves, it's that there's no worse punishment than being yourself. Except maybe being yourself all BY yourself. But look at the bright side. You don't want Chara or Frisk in your life anymore, so you'll never be forced to see them ever again. EVER."

Asriel walked upstairs and quickly packed his bags, not letting his anger abate even slightly.

When he got back down in less than 5 minutes, he headed straight to the door. Toriel desperately clung to Asriel's leg.

"NO, PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!" She beseeched with tears flowing endlessly.

"No, mom! I'm leaving."

"But Asriel, why? Why are you leaving me?!"

"Because...first, you kick dad out, then you kick the kingdom out, NOW YOU KICK MY BEST FRIEND AND HER BOYFRIEND OUT?! Who's next, me?! Well, I'm not waiting for that, so I'm leaving on my own! That way, you CAN'T kick me out! That's right! I refuse to give you the satisfaction! Goodbye. And don't follow me, either. Unless you're ready to make amends. And I mean actually do it, not just pretend and do this shit again."

"But Asriel-"

Asriel kicked Toriel in the face, forcing her to let go.

"Worthless. Don't show your pathetic face around me again unless you're ready to grow up..."

And that was it. Asriel walked out with everything he packed, slamming the door forcefully behind him, and he headed straight to Asgore's house. Toriel was left in the wake of it all as she was left battered, bruised, and isolated. All she could do was cry on the ground, curling up in a ball. For hours on end, she just wept to herself with no one to hear her cries. She finally understood what she did to herself. She had a great life, had great friends, and had a great family, and she gave all of that up. She would never be able to live down this soul-crushing, unfathomable sadness for as long as she was alive.

#undertale #frisk (undertale)#chara (undertale)#asriel dreemurr #toriel #temmie #boss monster #monster #human #hybrid #temmie-frisk #sorry for the long post #i'm trying to tell a story here #lost and found arc

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neither-rat-nor-human · 6 years

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@thxvoidwalker liked the post and thus twisted my arm.

Used the heart’s quotes for Sam a lot as inspiration. the first bit is literally when he’s pretty young, 19-20 something or other. I wanted to kinda chronicle his life a little? IDK but yeah.

Things to remember:

"Samuel Beechworth went to sea to forget a hopeless love. He succeeded."

Samuel talking about his wife, whose moods were akin to that of the temperament of the Wrenhaven River

Here you go:

Earth 1, 1791

The Fugue Feast finally ended, it's about damn time too. The people running around naked, some people spilling guts on the cobblestones more than normal--I'm just glad that that Abbey finally called it off. Never did like the Abbey much but they're better than just chaos. Anyways it's the start of a new year I suppose and Ma got me this book to write in for when I go out to sea or out on the river. "Bring back good stories" she tells me, but there's hardly anything to tell about. Not really. Cassie came around this morning after the Abbey was done with its prayers and songs and the like. Asked me to dinner, which I of course accepted. Family and folks I work with are expecting us to wed, which I honestly wouldn't mind one bit. Cassie is a sweet woman, only a little younger than myself. Don't mind that, hate the idea of marrying a 16 year old girl anyways like what's sometimes expected. The only complaint I have is that Cassie is like the sea; sometimes she tossing and wailing and having a temper that would make a storm shy away. Most days she's sweet as honey, so I can't complain.

Speaking of women, my brother Vernon found a woman while he was running around with the other Feasters or whatever you can call them. I've seen her in the market a few times while bringing in a haul for Old Man Jones. She's a sallow looking creature with a dark look in her eye. Like she knows too much about something. Sells charms and spells and the like. She might be a wicked thing but I can swear by what she sells. One of the other men, he's got one of her charms. Says he bought it last Clans and I'll be damned if he hasn't brought in some of the best haul in the last few months.

Maybe I'll look into one?

Earth 4, 1791

Ma says I need to write every day, keep myself well-read if I've ever going to get anywhere. Well at least she's not disappointed that I wasn't chosen to be an Overseer. Pa wanted me to be one so damn bad and I know it shamed him that I ain't one. But being a fisherman ain't half-bad either. It's good honest work, get to spend time to myself a lot and thing. Mind the river and such. Old Man Jones is thinking about putting me on a charter soon, go out on a big ol' boat and bring in a massive haul. Him and a few other market folk are talking about going in together. The further out the bigger the fish they say. Stars know how big.

The dinner with Cassie went without incident. She made a pheasant, which is out of season so who knows how much that set her back. But it was damn good. A stick-to-your-ribs sort of good. I'm proud of myself I guess, not being boastful or anything, but to have a lady like Cassie wanting me for her husband? Well I guess I'm a better man than I thought I was.

Dinner's nearly finished. A Hagfish Casserole. Most folk would turn their noses at the thought, but Ma always did know how to make 'em.

Maybe I'll tease Vern about his crazy lady-love later.

Earth 5, 1791

Jotting this down--teased Vern about "Mag" last night after dinner. Nothing bad, No names. Nothing like that.

He called Cass a crazy, two-bit cunt. We both got black-eyes but only he ended up in the river.

Earth 6, 1791

Was too tired and too pissed to elaborate yesterday after fishing for Jones but all I know is that for now I'm sleeping in my damn boat and ain't no one can stop me from it neither. I only said she was a funny, wild bird that was all. And that I hoped she wouldn't get caught with all that occult business. I earnestly meant it too. Jackass caught me right in the eye. Called Cassie what he did and now I'm so pissed I could spit all the bile out of my damn belly. I don't want to look at his sorry ass when I get up to head out to bring in fish for Jones. I'd probably wring his blasted throat.

Good riddance

Cassie came to the docks today, to talk before I shipped off. Not used to that but I should be, we're talking about maybe Month of Seeds, haven't talked to anyone yet about it, just her folks but we told them to keep it hush. For the best honestly until we really get to it and start trying to get things prepared. I wish I could say Pa or Vern could be the best man but neither is looking like too good of a chance.

Maybe Bernie or maybe Old Man Jones, he's always done right by me, even in the lean times. Gave me work when other places said they didn't need none. "I knows a sailor when I sees one" he told me. Always did have a thing for boats and the sea and learning about it. I'm getting ahead of myself now, just getting lost in thought. Anyways should dim the lantern and get some shut eye.

Thankfully it's still warm out.

Earth 7, 1791

It fucking rained.

Earth 10, 1791

Cassidy found me huddled under my boat in a makeshift hut, writing from her house still trying to shake the chill from my bones, might catch ill considering it's been a cold rain that last few days. She asked "why is my husband sleeping outside like some homeless fuddy when I know damn well he's got himself a Ma, a Pa, a Brother, and a good warm cot to sleep on every night?". Told her what happened with Vernon, but left the words out. Said it came to blows and that was that. She understood, but from the look in her eye she knew I was holding something back from her. I don't want to repeat those words that Vernon spoke to her. I love her too much to put her into one of her dark, melancholies.

I really do love her don't I?

Earth 14, 1791

Been sicker than I thought I would be. Cass first went to Jones, told him the news but thankfully he says that I still got a job once I'm back on my feet. Then she got Ma. And Ma came today, didn't question why I wasn't home, I guess anymore I'm the good son but she wants me to come home as soon as I'm well again. That's fine. I want an apology from Vernon first, don't care if I have to get him sticking drunk to do it either, I'll beat it out of him if I have to.

Cassidy is a good woman, not some wanton thing who hunts in the bars for something to take home with her.

Told Ma what Vernon did when I don't think Cass was in ear shot, after telling her my side of it, still remember to a T what I said and I hid none of it. She turned red as a Morley Apple. Pretty sure she'll rip his ears off dragging him here to share his apologies.

----

Evening now. Ma dragged Vernon here and he apologized to not only me but to Cassie as well. Not surprised that when I explained to her what he said it put her in a right foul mood. Thankfully she couldn't stay too mad for long, least I don't think she did at any rate. I'm still weak from hacking so much, was worried I would bring up blood but none came. Just a horrible cold that will go away eventually. I'll be better in a few days’ time with all the care that Cassie is giving me. The Sea-Woman is a gentle tide these past few weeks.

Earth 16, 1791

Was finally able to return to work today, though Jones had me working at the market. "You just got well!" he says to me, "best to let yourself recover out of the Wrenhaven's air!" I don't think he understands that the river is my blood. It's always been good to me. But I won't go and step on toes. I don't like working with people too much, not in this kind of business. But I'll do as Old Man Jones asks and do the bargaining side of things for a while. It didn't go too bad today. The Day before the Abbey Sermons is always quiet. Seems as if people tend to fast on these days, heard a passing Overseer say once that it was to "hunger all the more for the words of truth the abbey can provide". Bunch of piss if you ask me, not that I would ever say it out loud.

Cassie asked last night when I was gonna get a ring for that lovely hand. I told her it was a surprise, a bride ought not know when she'll be getting her promise ring just like a groom ought not see his bride's gown. Bad luck and all that. Really it's more of the fact I want to save up for a pretty thing for her. Something she'll be proud to look at and wear. She would probably marvel at a plain iron band but I want Sweet Cassidy to wear something silver or gold. She deserves that, my dear storm of a woman.

Earth 17, 1791

No work today on account of it being a Sermon Day. Pa dragged me to it this time since I missed the last few ("on yer boat or with yer head in the clouds! They could see it in your eyes that you were just a fool from birth!" then ain't he a fool too for putting me in Ma's belly?). I'm glad that it's over and I'm out on the dock now at the pier. It's a good day and the water of the Wrenhaven is warm to the skin. It's like the water itself missed me as much as I missed it. Will go to see Cassie tonight, see if she might want to come to dinner next Sermon Day. Ma always tries her best to make a good meal and she'll appreciate Cassie's help in the kitchen to I'm sure of it.

-----

Cassie wouldn't see me, her mood's gone sour. Mrs. Bould told me she had been fine this morning and then around lunch she turned on a coin, threw a fit, and took to bed. My poor girl, I know she'll give me grief eventually but I'll deal with it best I know how.

#֍||ooc #my writing #samuel beechworth #he is literally my fave and he's not even problematic

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traumaticexperiences · 7 years

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anonymous: i think it's abuse, but i'm not quite sure.

so, years ago, middle school-early high school, my mom got more physical. Used to grab me by the arms or shoulders, if she grabbed by arms + dug her nails in i would too. one time she slammed me against a wall and started hitting/punching? me (cant remember entirely). didnt leave marks like bruises or anything, just red fr little while. eventually she got less and less physical, and then hasn’t hit me in… idk, awhile. at least a year probably. But was this physical abuse?

aside from that, ever since i can remember, she has a horrible temper. Calls us all names. When I was younger, elementary school-ish, I remember calling my cousin a bastard. I didn’t know it was a bad word because my mom called me + my brothers that sometimes. I figured it wasn’t as bad as “bitch” because she said it less, or something. She has called me names like that, and worse things like “cunt” countless times. Same w my brothers. But a lot of times we get into a screaming match and I say mean things too. but I think that’s a newer development. Eventually I got fed up of taking it and started yelling back instead of crying and just letting her make me feel like shit. I remember a time in elementary school she told me to go drown in the shower. I remember because I was in some fandom chat room thing and I was sad, and I told them what she’d said and they (mostly older kids, teenagers) were all horrified and comforted me and stuff.

Also I’m a lesbian, and this was a five-ish year long ordeal that began with her first stealing my phone in 8th grade-ish and reading my text to a friend saying I thought I was bisexual. It was turned into me “hurting her” because she couldn’t handle it being in “her family”. She wanted me to just try being with a boy. I never have and never will. After getting a girlfriend in senior year of highschool, and after she talked to some close friends of hers, she became more accepting. But before then, and even after that point sometimes, she’d still call me a dyke when she was mad, usually over my appearance.

Which always has been and apparently always will be a huge thing for her, too. I don’t like makeup much. I’m pretty feminine but I don’t really do my hair or makeup ever. I just brush my hair, that’s about it. This always upsets my mom. My grandpa who recently died was in the hospital a year or two ago, and she yelled and screamed at me before we went to visit him the first time because after she asked me, I told her I wasn’t intending to put on makeup. She was telling me she never wanted to be seen in public with me if I didn’t have makeup on, telling me I “look like a piece of shit without it,” etc. In high school she’d often have to pick me up because of doctor’s appointments (I have many physical disabilities/ am chronically ill / have mental illnesses) and so often she wouldn’t even say “hi,” or “how are you,” but rather her first thing would be “Wow, all these other girls come out of school looking so wonderful, I want to cry when I see that disheveled mess is my daughter.” I remember so many times doing my best not to cry in the car, looking out the window at the clouds or the sun thinking it would help me not to cry because that was letting her win or whatever, or at least I thought so. I would just say “I don’t care” over and over again because arguing with her obviously did no good and just made her yell more. But even though I really have no desire to do my hair and makeup every day and look super pretty, her comments did get to me. I’m a freshman in college right now and sometimes I’ll apologize to my best friend / roommate for looking like shit and she’ll have to really convince me that I don’t. My mom’s disparaging comments really stick with me even now. I’ll walk out the door and feel super self conscious and have my mom’s words echoing in my head but still not actually do anything about it (do my hair, or makeup, that kind of thing).

But I’m not perfect. I forget things a lot. Like if she tells me to do something I might just forget to do it. Or if she wants me to clean and I just can’t find the motivation to do it. Or if I do it but I don’t do it well enough. It gets into this awful cycle where I don’t do something and she gets mad, and then I get depressed so I just lay on my bed and do nothing, therefore making her more mad, etc etc. It’s hard because she has chronic pain too from a surgery that went wrong like 16 years ago that messed up her leg.

And when she’s nice to me, I really do love her. She’ll help me calm down from panic attacks and she brings me to doctors and gets me the medicines that I need. I was in the hospital a month or so ago and she drove down to my college (4 hours away) at midnight just to be there with me since I had to stay overnight.

It’s like, I know she loves me. And the first few weeks of winter break back in December were good. But if I stay home long enough she goes back into how things were before I left for college. Eventually the honeymoon sort of phase wears away, and she’s back to treating me like shit, and I’m back to wanting to go away to college again. Right before I went back to college I remember she said something about how I do nothing for her no matter how she talks to me, “whether she’s nasty or sweet as pie to me”, and I responded in frustration that she was always nasty to me. And at that moment I was doing dishes as she told me to do, and she came up next to me and started slamming dishes down and told me to get out of her sight, to not do the dishes and to do them later when she was gone so she didn’t have to see me. But at that time, she was trying to get off of cymbalta, which apparently has horrible withdrawal symptoms. So I guess it made her temper even worse. When she was slamming stuff I flinched, I really thought she was going to hit me (she hadn’t in a while). But she didn’t. But I still flinch at sudden movements in daily life–yesterday in the dorm bathroom as I walked out, someone walked in, and I flinched really violently just because I hadn’t seen them coming (pretty embarrassing lol).

Also not sure how common this is, but when other people around me get into arguments I get really anxious? My best friend’s family treats me like their own, and her cousin+cousin’s husband took us out for dinner, and on the way home they got into a disagreement and I got unbearably anxious, I actually had to do deep breathing exercises to try and keep myself calm. I get kinda anxious just thinking about it. The people involved have never yelled, they’re always super nice to me and each other–it was a perfectly civil disagreement that they were in, just very passive-aggressive tbh. But it never escalated. They just kinda bickered and then we got to our destination and they solved the problem, and that was that.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. That first thing I mentioned, about her shoving me against the wall, happened like 5 years ago. I thought I was over it until I tried explaining it to my best friend and ended up a sobbing mess in the process–I couldn’t even talk. I angrily mentioned it to my mom at some point more recently and she laughed at me, saying she “barely touched me” and making fun of me in front of my brother, who joined in saying how ridiculous I was being and laughing at me. That experience has made me really question everything, to be honest. My mom has a lot of shit to deal with, and I’m not the best daughter in the world, far from it. I get good grades but that’s about all I’m good at, all I can be counted on for. Or at least that’s how it seems to me. I can’t tell if how she treats me is normal, and I’m overreacting, or if it’s abusive, or if she’s just angry at me and I deserve it. Any advice on that front? I’m sorry this got so long.

It would be nice if this is anonymous. But could you tag it as “mint” so I can find it if you make it anonymous? Thank you. And thank you for running this blog.

////

yes, what you're describing is abuse! grabbing you, and punching strikes as a really hateful and cruel physical abuse, only a person who really wanted to hurt you would do such a thing. Being called names also comes from a hateful place, and it can hurt so much when it comes from a parent, because they're not supposed to hate you, they're supposed to care, calling you names shows that they didn't care at all, they saw you as something that is there for them to hurt. Presenting your sexual orientation as something hurtful to them is so cruel and vicious, they wanted you to feel horrible about who you are! As if something is wrong with that! I'm really glad you never want to be with a boy. Calling you names for merely being who you are is really hurtful, again, something she does only to harm you. Hatred over your appearance is also something really abusive and crushing, it can affect you really deeply that people can hate you merely because they don't approve of the way you look, and that's terrifying, even more when it comes from a family member. She made you feel like she'd rather have someone else for a daughter, merely because of your looks, that is just too cruel. It doesn't matter if you're perfect or not, you haven't deserved this kind of abuse, someone who cares about you would never do any of those things, because they shouldn't think that you deserve to be hurt. Helping you calm down and bringing you medicine are such basic things, it's really not much, even if it means much to you because you don't really get much affection so even the smallest gesture can feel like love. You deserve more than that. Your mom is abusive and a few basic things she does can't change that. I don't believe a person who hurts you that badly can truly love you and care about your well being. You can't just love a child when you feel like it, and then hate it when you feel like hating it. That's sick. It seems you recognized the cycle of abuse and you know what's going on. I'm glad you're so bright and know a lot of things are wrong. You are scared of her. You're anxious in arguments. She's obviously capable of hurting you a lot, and you know it's not safe for you around her. It's really painful to live around a person like that, and you shouldn't be subjected to that.Probably the most scary thing is how she pretends nothing happens, minimizes the pain she caused to you and tries to excuse her actions and gaslight what you know happened. That kind of psychological abuse can drive a person crazy, and you shouldn't be put thru that, just for the sake of her getting away with it.

#mint

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traumaticexperiences · 7 years

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Anonymous:i think it's abuse, but i'm not quite sure.

It would be nice if this is anonymous. But could you tag it as “mint” so I can find it if you make it anonymous? Thank you. And thank you for running this blog.

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yeah your mom roughly grabbing your arms and shoulders and slamming you against the wall and punching you sounds terrifying, the fact that it didn't leave marks and bruises just shows that she wanted to hurt you, but didn't want any proof of it left over that could be used against her. it's horrifying. It is physical abuse, and even if it lessened it's likely because physical abuse is used to permanently keep someone scared, intimidated, and obedient, being abused this way in the past is enough for long term consequences, so they don't even have to hit you in the present because your body remembers abuse from the past and is ready to obey them in order to avoid more!

Name calling is abuse, and being told to drown in a shower was basically telling you to die, holy shit, that's horrible! I'm glad you got some comfort afterwards, that's really traumatic.

Refusing to acknowledge your sexual orientation and then using it as an insult is crazy abusive, it sounds like she really hated you and everything you are. Also that is a lot of abuse just over your appearance, the worst is comparing you to others as if you're inferior or something to be ashamed of, it's awful! It's severe emotional and psychological abuse, and it's no wonder you were doing your best not to cry, and still don't feel like your appearance is good enough. You're in the right here, not wasting your time to adjust your appearance to how others would prefer is good! looking the way you feel comfortable is the best decision for you, and your mother had no right to dictate it or to shame you for it, you're a human being, and that matters more than your appearance, and anyone using your appearance to imply that you're less is dehumanizing you, and negating your worth as a human.

You don't have to be perfect in order not to be abused, and even if there were some times where she wasn't abusing you as much, it just means she is able of not abusing you, but she still abused you all the other times. Not abusing you or being nice to you for a short while is absolutely no excuse for abusing you the rest of the time. She sounds really terrifying and it's dangerous to believe she loves you, i don't think someone who cares even slightly about your well being could ever hurt and abuse you this much.

For abuse survirors it is common to get scared and anxious when getting into arguments because in the past you were taught that arguing risks abuse, risks someone accusing you of provoking them or being at fault because you didn't just do as you were told. After that, even if you were in a civil argument it would be scary. Your brain gathers all information about arguing and if there was danger in the past, it expects danger in the future, and sends out warnings and anxiety whenever you have to argue.

It's hard to ever be over someone who you love and trust shoving you against the wall. It's terrifying to just know that person is capable of that, of wanting to hurt and scare you that much. And your mom is gaslighting you and pretending it didn't happen because she knows it was abusive and cruel, and she doesn't want to deal with consequences of that. I'm glad you're questioning everything, and you don't have to consider what your mom has to deal with, this is about you, and how your mom affected you, and what is the shit YOU have to deal with, because of her. You don't have to be counted on for anything, you're a human being, not a tool, not a robot, not there to be of service to others. You deserve good things even if you don't bring profit and good things to others. I don’t know about advices, but I hope you keep questioning your mom’s intentions and actions and do what’s best for you, regardless of what she wants. Remember your life belongs to you, and you do not have to live for her and her ideas of what you should be. If you feel you could be happier without her dragging you down and burdening you, try to get free. Good luck.

#trigger warning #child abuse #emotional abuse #homophobia #abusive parents #gaslighting #submission

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