#this man has not paid rent a single time in his life he should have some savings to pay for his wedding and future home lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blessedshortcake · 2 years

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hi do u have espresso head canons i wanna hear you talk about this asshole /pos

I have SO MANY please you have no clue yet

I am sure there are gonna be things I list that are canon but let me live. I project to him so much its not even funny

I am putting this under the cut becasue I am about to go offfff. This is an entire essay, a short character study if you may /lhj

Growing up he almost always had some kinda roommate or a cookie he lived with to help with rent. I hc that in the Lower Republic its a standard experience to be swapping between homes with often a handful of others so you can pay for the apartment. I am talking one person being the legal owner/renter and 3-5 other people living there in secret so they can make ends meet.

I hc that he was childhood friends with Licorice as well along with Seaweed. I am unsure about Affogato but I 100% say they were friends with Licorice.

He used to be very clumsy and bad with magic because no one was there to help him. He picked up every single skill and ability he has by himself, magical and life skills equally. (Which is also partially why he sucks so bad with self care. He never properly learned how a functional, healthy person should live.)

He is very light sensitive due to him growing up in the Lower Republic. Its canonically darker there (if I remember correctly) so he likely got used to cold and dark being the norm.

I have a whole essay on why Espresso hates light magic in my headcanon but that is for another day.

With that being said, I think he unconciously keeps dressing warmer than necessary. He would wear long sleeves or sweaters in hot weather, causing him to overheat every so often. It's a hard habit to break.

I hc him having a love hate relationship with darkness as well. Depending on his emotional and mental state it can either comfort him or set him off even more.

Set him off by making him feel suffocated, reminding him of his childhood and struggles, bringing him back to survival mode unintentionally. He feels like he achieved nothing still, having to work and grind day and night for little to no proof of how far he came. (Of course this is mainly false. Espresso is a respected and well known mage, he is just spiraling.)

Comfort is similar tho. It brings him back to his childhood when he is overwhelmed/overstimulated by noise or light or just simply stress. Darkness was what he knew best for majority of his life so he would find peace in it when things got too much, too strange, too new.

He is hard to break out of survival mode once he slips into the mindset. He gets more closed off but not snappy just quiet. He spends more time in his lab, takes care of himself less, too wrapped up with the his work to notice anything around him. If things get too bad, he only notices what he is doing again when he passes out from exhaustion, finally catching on that he slipped again.

He is so neurodivergent but also has So Many Issues. A therapist would have a field day with this man. His biggest obsession is his work partially because of hyperfixtation and partially because he Needs To Work.

Most of the Elders and Upper Republic did/does not respect him. His conversation with Landlord cookie (whom I have a love hate relationship with) shows that another reason why he has to work so much is to literally get paid. He teaches for money more so than to educate others. He is far from ready to be an actual teacher, his researches are not done and there are too many unknown things about coffee magic for him to confidently pick up students, yet he needs to.

The Lower Republic has mixed views on him. Some of them are happy and proud of him, of how far he got and how much he grew and achieved and the other half resents him for the same reason. The latter half thinks he became one of the all too proud, shiny snobs of the upper republic, turning his back to them.

Actual insomniac, add it to the list of issues. Sure, coffee cookies have higher body heat and netural caffeine in them but with the literal caffeine addiction and amount of stress he is under, i think he has had many occasions where he Wanted to sleep but physically Could Not no matter how frustratingly tired he was, which is why he ended up with just giving up on even trying to have a sleep schedule. Whenever his body decides he is allowed to sleep actually sleep and not just feel like walking dead then he will likely accept it and go to bed.

He has many many skills. He is good at engineering (he built his own lab), science, physics and a handful of life skills such as cleaning, cooking, sewing and first aid. He is very good with young kids as well, he had lots of experience from living with and looking after them when he was young.

I think dying his hair tends to be an impulse decision for whenever he remembers to do it. He doesn't pay too much mind to how he doses it or how he looks since his hair gets messy by itself. He often forgets he has hair dye in when he does it because he goes back to his work as he waits and ends up with it on for hours.

He dresses fancily because 1, aesthetic and 2, the more put together he looks the more people respect him. Its another of those things that he carried on from his childhood. He likes to seem bigger than he is for passive intimidation and charisma points.

He is very moody, (or emotionally unstable depending on how severly you want to view it) swinging between emotions very easily with little to no influence from time to time. Sleep deprivation and unresolved trauma does that to you.

He goes nonverbal when having a meltdown. Like he just shuts off and shuts up, leaving everything and everyone behind until he calms down.

He has a habit of fixing his glasses and covering his face more when he is nervous or embarrassed. He rocks his legs a lot and taps his fingers on stuff to stim. He is a "socks are necessary part of life and i'll die without them" kinda autistic. Floor boards on bare feet are his enemy.

He loves pets of all kinds but he refuses to keep one. He knows he would not be able to be there for it or care for it as much as it needs because of his work.

This is all I can think of on top of my head. I should make an actual google doc haha- there are 100% more things I have about him but I have been typing for like an hour and I need to make breakfast so here is the short version.

He either talks to himself as much as he can or not at all, no in between. Nervous muttening under his breath, reading things out to double check, repeating words that felt nice to say and so on but sometimes he needs absolute and utter silence.

Edit: HIS GENDER THO

Fuck food I have to add this real fast. This man has no clue what he is or who he likes. He had no time in his life to sit and think about it. The one time he even attmepted to explore the fact that he may be into anyone he decided it was too distracting and just sealed those thoughts away. This man does not sit down to have food most of the time do you think he will sacrifice his brain power to find a label?

Thank you for the question and the opportunity for me to talk about this man I will love you forever anon /pl

#cake rambles #like a lot #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #espresso cookie #character study #kinda #cake asks #cake talks #hehe #long post

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tittyinfinity · 1 year

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Rant below

Gonna have to set some boundaries with ANOTHER neighbor....

I'm known as the Babysitting Neighbor™️ since I don't currently work which is totally cool, I get paid and it distracts my son, but we're having another case of them not telling me the full plans until they're dropping their kid off

Like this is the first time I'm watching this kid, he's 5. His mom texted me saying "it'll only be for 6 hours, 8:30am-2:30

Guess what time they showed up? 7

And then she tells me "I'm off at 2:30 so it'll be about 4 when I'm back"

And im like....girl that's a whole 3 more hours

Anyway I was too tired to say anything about it this morning, she said she had to get an uber bc her tires got low due to the negative temps outside & that's why she was leaving early, she had to get going, I wasn't gonna make her late. But next time she asks me to babysit I'm telling her she needs to tell me the exact times

Like idk honestly I almost feel like I should ask for $10 more than she's already paying me just because she made me wake up an hour earlier on a day where there's no school. Plus I mean. She's asking me to babysit 50% longer than originally stated. But I can't just randomly ask for more money from a single mom who just told me that she can't replace her tires because she's so broke she can barely afford rent. Ugh. Yeah, yeah, not my problem, I'm broke too, whatever. But I've been a single working mom making like $60 a day paying $20 a day for a babysitter (granted it was a teenager watching my kid) and that was a whole third of my income. I don't feel like I should be asking for more money whenever I used to pay that much for a sitter for a toddler, ya know? Typing this out just made me think that through lol I know I'm not being consistent

Everyone's always telling me to stand up and demand the compensation I deserve, but look man, I don't really have to do much when these kids are over. I mean, there's always more than 1 kid here so they entertain each other. In fact, I can get even more stuff done bc it means my son isn't constantly asking for my attention. So again I don't feel like asking for more is necessary

And I know I complained about this exact thing with my other neighbor, but after confronting her like, 3 times, she finally started communicating with me better and paying me more.

I'm not really looking for advice (just posting this for myself for reference, sadly it's easier for me to find and reread a tumblr post of mine than it is to find something in my own notes on my pgone)

I'm just complaining that I have to say anything to this woman in the first place after already having to set this boundary with another neighbor. Its getting fucking exhausting

Side note, this kid has the thickest, silkiest black hair I have ever seen on a child in my life, and I am so jealous of his natural hair

#rant

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swornpromises · 2 years

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I can’t wait till I get my place I really fucking can’t man. Sick of little ass bitches what the fuck is family when u allowed your sister to sleep in a fucjing car with her kid yet u let everyone else live up in your house and only charged someone 70 for rent then let your friend live up in the house for two weeks with no money no nothing bumming and eating the food I pay for. Yet when your around people and I try to speak what I say goes in one ear and out the other but when no one is around you wanna be nice to me. Not one single bitch in this house or people around could afford a god damn thing for my son everything is from me and me only and including every broke ass bitch that did not buy shit I had to buy the shit and gonna watch my son opening it knowing I paid for it all but you’re taking credit for the shit in the gift bags that I got cause your nephew don’t come first. Then wanna bitch and cry about your fucking child when all u do is run the fucking streets and have your baby dad take care of the kid more then u do and while he works complain how the baby is on your nerves but yet u wanna have another fucking child like for what yo u can’t even afford the one u got let alone a second fucking baby. I hate bitches or anyone that think just because u got no place to go that they can treat you how ever the fuck they want or use you and anytime you don’t give them what they ask for they wanna threaten you or slam the door almost breaking it yet I slam the door just shutting it and I get talked to like shit or being asked if I’m being loud. I don’t need a fucjing person in this house or family I may not have anywhere to live but I choose to be here but it’s gonna come a time when I go back to sleeping in my truck I can’t fucking stand the disrespectful as shit or the way fucking children live because their so spoiled and need gas or give bucks let me call my grandma grandma this grandma that and still lying to her about me living here. I really just wanna walk tf away I don’t care anymore what the fuck happens cause not a fucking soul out here gives a flying fuck I’m only enough for people if I got something to offer I spent hella money on my sons party food his gifts I wrapped shit I did every god damn thing and I never wanted to have the party and I said pizza instend of spending 200 on food for people to show up tomorrow with no gifts just to feed their lazy fucking sets and have them look at me cause not a single fucking person likes me cause I ain’t afraid to open my mouth and say shit when I disagree or I know something ain’t right. I been on my fucking own my hole life and u wanna sit and bitch cause all u get for your birthday is 100 bucks from your grandma like are u fucking serious I never get shit and since my wife left she is the only fucking person who has did anything for my birthday why should I buy someone a fucking gift when they blew they money for food and gas and weed but could not even afford to buy me a pack of socks and that was all I fucking said I wanted cause they were cheap and could not even watch my son and had a problem when I fucjing asked watch how iam when I get my place watch who don’t answer the phone no one gave a fuck about me when I lived three hours away no one called or came to fucjing see me and only reason I called me in Missouri is cause I kept sending you hella money everytime I asked or cause u wanna to cry about being pregnant cause u wanted to sneak a bum ass dude into your grandmas house I truly see why no one likes Shirley yeah I got a fucking mouth yeah I don’t shut the fuck up but 98 percent of what the fuck I say is the truth and no one ever wants to hear my words either I’m mean or causing drama or I just don’t think about someone’s else’s feelings well guess what I act how I’m treated either from fucking lies or being used and in pain or hurt in ways no person should ever feel family friends I been thru so much shit in my life no wonder I’m always bitchy and pissed cause nothing I do is right for anyone I’m always in the wrong

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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Hanma Shuji as reader’s sugar daddy lmao

STOP I--

I CAN'T STOP WRITING FOR THIS MAN I--

The Arrangement: Shuji Hanma X Fem!Reader

wc: 1.4k

tw: a lil' NSFW at the end

masterlist

song recommendation: Pu$$y Talk - City Girls (Feat. Doja Cat)

Fluttering your lashes seems to do the trick every time for the men who come to the ritzy bar.

"A cognac?" Flutter them for emphasis when you ask a question. Purse your lips a little. Lean forward so they can see your cleavage.

It works every single time. Even on married men who are 100% dedicated to their wives... or mistresses. They're already half-drunk when you pull out your tricks, and their over-confidence leads to fatter tips in your pockets in hopes of scoring an hour with you. But even after all of the cajoling, the pursuing, the lusting... you turn them down and head back to your shared apartment, stuffing the money into your rent jar before taking a shower and heading to bed.

And the cycle begins anew the next day.

You don your slinky black dress, spray a tap of perfume on your wrists, and twirl your curls around your finger before leaving the apartment and driving to the place that hogs your evenings. And it's Friday evening, which means the work crowd and the wealthy crowd would come together in the glamorous bar.

"Y/n," Okina, your manager, calls out. "Big client in the VIP room upstairs. Think you can handle it?"

Big client? VIP room? Serving drinks at the private bar? "Fuck yeah," you answer, saluting the woman who just rolls her eyes, laughing.

"Don't drain them of all of their money, y/n," she replies and you nod, giving her a wink. You climb the stairs up to the private room and watch as servers make the wooden table nice and shiny for the guests coming. The VIP room has only been used four times in your entire seven years here, but every single time it was used for a big client who left amazing tips.

"Maybe I could use tonight's money to save up for a dog," you muse out loud, wiping down the bar and preparing your workstation carefully. The image of the Maltipoo you'd desired since childhood pops into your head, and you smile to yourself, coming up with a list of names as you work.

You're so lost in thought that you don't realize a good portion of the clientele has already come in, each one of them dressed to the nines and taking their seats.

Two snaps call you back to reality, and you look up at the man waiting for your assistance as you clean a bar glass.

"How can I help you, sir?"

The black and yellow-haired man looks at you with a bored expression, orange eyes roving over your appearance slowly. He adjusts his glasses, then states,

"Whiskey. Neat." You fulfill the request and place the drink in front of him with a napkin.

"Anything else, sir?"

"I'll be back shortly." He downs the drink all in one go, and you watch him walk off warily. The tattoos on his hands are enough to warn you that maybe this guy is bad news, but you shrug, taking the glass and putting it in the small sink against the wall. A few others come up to the bar for drinks, but the presentation and following discussion claims most of the men's attention.

Which is fine... sort of. It's really eating into your tips, to be honest.

"Another whiskey." You immediately offer it to the man in front of you, and he downs it, just like the one before.

"Anything else?" you murmur, and he crooks his finger at you. You lean a little closer, tilting your head just so and tucking your lip underneath your top row of teeth.

"You work here part-time? Full-time?"

"Full-time," you reply, fluttering your lashes. The earring in the man's ear shakes a little as he tilts his head a little, mimicking your stance.

"Do you enjoy it here? Make a lot of money?"

"Money is okay; I like working here," you answer, leaning forward to show off your cleavage as you grab his abandoned drink. He grabs your wrist, giving you a small smile before caressing your fingers.

"You know who I am, don't you, y/n?"

"No." The truth rolls off of your tongue with ease, but the man's face falls slightly as if he's disappointed that you don't know about his wealth and fame. "Should I?"

"Only if you want to." He raises a brow, blinking slowly. Did you want to? "Shuji Hanma." The man flips you a card, covered in gold foil and black, shiny cardstock. "If you're looking for some fun outside of work, you should give me a call."

_____________________________________________________________

If you're looking for some fun, you should give me a call.

You flip the card around in your hands, noting the numbers in gold foil and the lack of a name, a business, or anything else identifying. Yeah, Shuji Hanma is clearly someone who needed to be paid attention to. You consider dialing the number that night, but then you remember the lack of significant tips. Why bother with a man who wouldn't pay you for excellent service?

Even Onika thought it was odd that you hadn't received a cash flow...

You sigh, tossing the card aside and laying back on the bed, the dream of owning a Maltipoo slipping even further from your grasp.

"Curiosity killed the cat," your roommate warns day after day after day. But on the fifth day of having the card lay on your desk, you finally pick up your phone and call the number.

"And satisfaction brought it back," you muse, waiting for the line to pick up. It picks up on the second ring. "H-hello? Shuji Hanma?"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the beautiful hostess from the bar. Thought about my offer?"

"Yes," you breathe, and Shuji hums softly.

"Meet me at Ocean Prime for dinner tonight. Say, at eight?"

"Eight is good."

"Do you want me to send a car for you?"

"No," you reply. "I'll drive."

_____________________________________________________________

You're sitting across from Shuji, who is dressed in a pinstripe suit and wearing the same glasses as before.

He is handsome, you think to yourself, but it doesn't stop the way you nervously interact with him as he peruses the menu, cuts his fish, or asks you about your life.

"Y/n, have you ever thought about... quitting your job?" You shake your head immediately, thinking about all of the bills that would need to be paid and how much debt you'd rack up on credit cards. "You see, I'm looking for someone who is willing to be... somewhat of a comfort to me. You know, in the mundane things, like being there when I come home after work and allowing me to take them out on dates, or being my plus one to events where I'll be forced to interact with others."

"A girlfriend?"

"No," Shuji shakes his fork at you. "That's a level of commitment I cannot allow for myself. More like a younger, prettier beneficiary. It would come with perks, like bills being taken care of, a new wardrobe, a work-free lifestyle, travel, et cetera."

"Wait." You swallow your water with a hard gulp. "Like..." You scan the room for people who may be tuning into your conversation nervously. "Like a sugar baby?"

"Sure," Shuji answers, shrugging. "I mean, it's a lot of work - attending to my needs, that is. But I'll make sure you're well compensated."

"I..."

"Take some time to think about it. Oh, and by the way," The man slides you a thick envelope. "For tonight, as well as the tips I had to extort from the others. Go ahead and count it." You look through the money and realize that the hundred dollar bills add up to about three thousand dollars.

"Shuji, this is..."

"Fifteen hundred for your time, and fifteen hundred for your tips." You can't say anything else as you hold the envelope in your hand. However, Shuji continues to eat his meal, sipping at his water carefully. "What're you thinking?"

"Even if I say no, this money is mine?"

"Of course," he smiles. "Though it would be nice to take you home tonight."

It's only as Shuji is eating you out that you realize that you can officially quit your job. Not even with a two-week notice. You could call today and quit.

"Give me two weeks," you whisper, and Shuji hums, looking up at you and ceasing his movements.

"Two weeks for what?"

"My job."

"Oh," he chirps, smiling. "I expect nothing less from you, pretty girl." He hoists your legs up around his shoulders and dives back into your cunt, removing his glasses and slurping up your juices eagerly. You tangle your hands into his hair and moan loudly as he sends you right into your first orgasm of this little arrangement.

#hanma shuji #shuji hanma x reader #shuji hanma #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #shuji hanma smut

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izukus-sugar-baby · 3 years

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Checked out!

WARNINGS: fluff-ish, eventually will be smut, mentions of getting sick twice

word count: 2k

Heres my first writing for tumblr! Hope you all like it!

Part Two, Part Three.

"Hey Miss!!" You peered down at the smaller voice, simultaneously feeling a book slip from your hand and onto the ground. The bookshelf was at least 5 rows high, and you had been standing as far as you needed to reach the top. You were dusting off and replacing the books on the shelf, which... hadn’t been so pleasant with children running around before their daily read. Regardless, you had a job to do. It wasn't gonna stop for a ton of kids. You had been rearranging the books in alphabetical order before the kid startled you. Thank god it didn’t fall on their head.

"Are you gonna read to us today? Or is Miss Maggie?" The kid didn't look over six years old, blue eyes and long brown hair with freckles littering her face in a wonderful way. She wore a small dress full of sunflowers with bright pink shoes on her feet. She had been here before... Although, her name wasn’t ringing a bell.

"I wanted to read one of those pigeon stories you read us last time!" You let out a sigh of relief that the book didn't smack the kid on top of her head prior to climbing down to the ground and leaning down be eye-level with her.

"Pigeon stories?" You've read dozens of books about dozens of creatures and characters. What on earth would relate to a.. pigeon? Leaning down a bit farther to snatch up the book you had dropped, she pushed another book into your arms. The title read The Pigeon Needs A Bath!

"This book is pretty thin, You sure you want me to read just this one book, sweetheart?" You stood up straight, handing the girl the book back before cocking your hip to the side and placing your hand onto it.

"Me and Emmie can go find some more!" She hurried off to find her.. friend? Knowing it had been a child, it could be a stuffed animal! But she sure did leave too quickly to ask any questions about it. You sighed, climbing back up to finish your organizing. Thank goodness I’m already close to being done. You thought to yourself, dusting top to bottom and moving onto the 4th row. Their reading wasn't for another.. what? 20 minutes? You had time to knock out another shelf. Time flew by as you finished the 4th row. It was already time to read.

"I have to stop by Goodwill and get some more books. I also gotta stop at the post office and some.. other errands? You got this reading?" The owner of the store, Maggie, looked over to make sure she had gotten your attention before naming off a few things that needed done in the shop before you closed up shop.

"Yeah! What time will you be back?" You climbed down the last step of the ladder, patting off the dust from the bookcase that had gotten on your apron. It was some cutesy hello kitty apron you wore so the dust wouldn't ruin your clothing but it really just made it look like it was some mini cafe. None the less, you wore it.

"I'll be back in time for that uh, Pro hero guy. I don't know- my wife wrote him in. Ask and she'll tell you!" You weren't too involved with all that hero bullshit, the whole who can save more lives?! You get the most money AND an award. The system in itself was ass and it wouldn't make a difference in your everyday life for one of those snobby people to stop by. You walked around the shelves, watching Maggie leave as you sat down on a small rounded couch. A small chime rang through the shop as it called the children over for their reading, a few already sitting and ready to hear you.

It wasn't a big library, it seemed like a corner store had gotten torn down and then completely renovated into a library for children. The second floor had been where the owner and her wife stayed. It was a cozy little place where about 8-12 kiddos would visit for a read. There were bookshelves in the walls for more book space and 5 separate shelves more towards the middle of the place. They held less books than the ones on the wall. Only two of the five reached over 3ft. Parents would come in just to rent a few books. But more often than not, the owner would go out hunting for new books for everyone to enjoy. Along with cute little toys and those foam floor mats to sit on. All of the children in the shop had sat right in front of you, including the girl from earlier who held 4 books in her hands. A few other kids held thin picture books in their hands as well, but only having 15 minutes to read to them, it might be hard to get around to all of them.

“Alright, Who's first?" You asked, smiling down at them. Every single child raised their hand, some even raising both so your attention was on them. Of course this wasn't going to be easy. You thought to yourself as you put a hand over your eyes, pointing to some random kid. He held a small book, standing up slowly and handing it to you.

"My mom reads me this sometimes.." Poor boy was only about 5, and seemed pretty shy. You gave him a reassuring smile before he went back to his seat. You began to read and in no time at all you finished reading the few books children selected. Thank god it was a Friday, Most children would be picked up right after the reading for afternoon preschool etc. But it seemed like no one wanted to leave. Was it that hero Maggie had mentioned? You sighed, hopping up and heading to the check out desk where you saw a few children wanting to check out their books you previously read to them. You leaned down over the desk to reach for the book, scanning it and doing so for each person. The store bell jingled, as if the creak of the door didn't give away someone walking in.

"Welcome to 'Children's Magical Bookshop,' You paid the person no mind as you spoke, handing the last child their book and letting your gaze fall upon the... very tall man in front of you. Noise filled the small shop, children running up to him screaming-

"Deku!" As loud as their little lungs could. He gave a flashy smile, leaning down to hug the children that ran straight for his legs. He laughed and lifted a few of them in his.. very strong arms. Was it hot in the bookshop? Was the AC fucked up? You force your eyes from the tall man.. Was he looking at you too? Your mind screamed at you to introduce yourself, Quickly walking towards a shelf to do something. Anything bust stand there and gawk at him.

"Are you Maggie?" There were hopping children behind him, playing with his gloves and such as you turned to him.

"No- I'm y/n. Are you that.. pro? She had been talking about.?" You huffed through your nose, turning to him. He extended a hand, nodding with a cheesy grin on his face as soon as you had taken his hand into yours. It wasn’t like you never saw him on the news, but you sure did skip the channel as soon as it was some bullshit hero chart over who had been number one. He was so much hotter in person..

"Yes! I'm sorry I'm a bit early, I finished patrol sooner than I thought! I hope I'm not interrupting anything? The woman on the phone said before six, I told her I was sure I could make it around five!" His eyes traveled to your lips for a moment, listening to you speak back to him.

“You’re fine, There’s plenty of time for you to hang out and sign all of their t-shirts and such. Make yourself at home big man. You can sit in the reading area,” The kids dragged him to where you were just moments ago.. But he couldn't get you to leave his mind. You were beautiful. He needed to make you his.

The poor hero stayed until about six o’clock to talk to you, since all of the kids finally left to go do their summer homework or whatever they had to do. Deku had been leaning over the counter for almost an extra hour to make some conversation with you, he just couldn’t help himself. You cant blame him either! You had this smile that he couldn’t resist. And quite frankly, he wasn’t used to this feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He fought some shit villain every day! What's a few butterflies? Especially as pretty as you. Why wouldn't he want to stick around?

“I really didn’t think it would be so chill this week! It feels like I've done nothing but catch up on papers!” Izuku scratched his neck with his index finger, shaking his head lightly. “I guess I really am doing a good job!- Of course other pros are doing their jobs as well!” He let out a relieved chuckle, looking at you with a big, sincere, smile on his face. “How has work here been? It must be so nice working with so many children!”

You feel your eyes involuntarily roll, shaking your head and leaning against the wall behind you. “It’s nice until some kid gets sick on themselves and their mother isn’t here to help. We have extra clothing in the back because it’s happened more than once.” You groaned as your eyes trailed to the door leading to lost n found, clothes, and other things. You had an unamused look on your face talking about it. He noticed and let his eyes follow yours until feeling your eyes rest upon him once more. Maybe texting would let you come around to him a bit more? Were you bored?

“Yikes- I’ve seen adults get sick after villains show up. But I probably should head back to my agency.” He looked out of the store window before right back to those beautiful e/c eyes of yours. “Do you have a number I can text? I would love to talk to you more y/n..!” He was already prepared for rejection. It was kinda weird to be hitting on you after dealing with kids wasn’t it? Maybe he should take it back. Was he coming off as some sleazy ass hero?

Your eyes widened in the slightest- Enough for him to notice. “Sure, Let me see your phone,” You stepped closer to the counter, seeing him fumble on the pouch of his belt before unlocking and giving you his phone. You went to his contacts, making yourself one of them and handing it right back to him. He had an even bigger, cheesier, grin on his face after he took it back.

“Thank you, y/n!” He bowed his head before quickly leaving out to his agency. Finally, you could go home as well. Not that he was a problem, but that man sure could talk. It was endearing. Maybe I can put enough of those stutters in mind tonight. You joked to yourself, grabbing your keys and walking out to lock up the small bookshop. There was no doubt that you were attracted to him. Every woman in America and Japan was attracted to him in some way.

You let out a small sigh, driving home and turning your radio up until hearing your phone ding. You glanced over at the screen to see an unknown number texting. Assuming it was Deku, you waited until you were home to answer him. By the time you had texted him back, he was quick to reply. You two made plans to hang out soon and have dinner together. You talked for hours until one of you had fallen asleep. He was ecstatic. You really enjoyed his company.

taglist: @tenyaiidasslut @hi-rubi @devilsbooksworld @flamingpastapotatoes @arleneeene @blacklotussai @akam4recs @prinvilmain

a/n: I fucking hate tumblr KWJCHDH ive had to re-write this more than once because they changed the layout if the save and post. Its not my best work and was mostly edited on here instead of Google docs. Learn to edit the first version first i guess 💀 The second part will be much better!

Please Reblog!!!!

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kinsey3furry300 · 3 years

Text

So how the heck do the Avengers pay for stuff, and how rich are they?

So, in the wake of “Falcon and the Winter Soldier” There’s a lot of debate about why Sam didn’t seem to get paid well for his work in the Avengers (at least in the MCU continuity), and this has got me thinking: we’ve got no evidence that the Avengers are, financially, anything but a hot mess. So lets break it down, Avenger by Avenger, using real-world pay scales for the ones who have jobs.

Tony: a billionaire, so clearly he’s a financial genius, right? Well….. his actions say otherwise. He’s shown to be wildly irresponsible with his money. He inherited a lot of wealth form his parents which was managed by the first Jarvis, Obadiah, and Pepper for him, he buys and then gives away not just woks of art, but entire collections by major 20th century artists on a whim, destroyed his own cars and home without concern, he tanks the value of his own company in the first Iron Man with a bad press interview, gets kicked of his own bord of directors, and ultimately, in Iron Man 2, gives control of his company to Pepper. He’s insanely rich, and insanely smart, but man, he’s not smart with his money. So all the cool stuff, his suits, the Avengers tower, the facility up-state: that’s all paid for by him, but Pepper is holding the purse-stings. So, does he pay the others? We have no evidence for most of them… but we do with Spidey. Peter Parker is in the Stark Internship Program a euphemism to hide the fact he’s training and mentoring him as a super-hero, but I find the wording interesting: he refers to Spidey, his surrogate son and chosen heir, as an intern. I.E., Unpaid. I’m guessing this is Howard’s influence over him, some sort of ‘make you own way in the world, son’ attitude, but if he’s not paying Spidey, is he paying anyone else? He certainly pays for stuff super heroes suits and things, equipment, fuel, the base, but does he pay anyone a wage? No one ever mentions it. You think it would come up.

So, if he’s not paying them a wage, where do Avengers (and thier allies) get their day-to-day money from, and are they rich? Using google and https://www.federalpay.org, lets find out.

Cap: Well, before Civil war, he’s a shield operative, and he presumably still holds his military rank: he’s a US Army captain, with (well) over 40 years service, so USD$88,142.40 per year, with $237.71 drill pay (pay per drill you have to do on weekends, on leave or outside of normal service) and $175.00 per month hazard pay (which I bet is interesting) on top of that. As a WW2 veteran, he’d be eligible for a war pension if he:

Was not discharged for dishonorable reasons; and,

Served 90 days of active military duty; and,

Served at least one day during wartime ("wartime" as determined by the VA); and,

Had countable family income below a certain yearly limit; and,

Is age 65 years or older; or

Regardless of age is permanently disabled, not due to wilful misconduct.

As he’s still receiving 90k per year, he’s ineligible for a pension as his countable yearly income is above the limit. So if shield pays him in accordance with his rank and years of service, about $90, 600 per year incuding hazard pay.

After civil war, he’s a fugitive on the run, so presumably flat broke. I’d asume he gets his pension returened to him after the snap.

He’s also just gone from the 40’s to the present day, so 70 years of inflation probably makes buying things very confusing for him: everything would seem insanely expensive at first. He’d also not know what the correct prices are for anything invented after 45. You might get used to how much more expensive food and coffee is, but how much is a smart-phone worth? $200? $2000 $20000? Who knows? I bet the others have to facepalm a lot when he either refuses to pay for what he sees as clear price-gouging, and at the same time regularly pays insane amounts of money for goods and services because he doesn’t know better. He also has no known assets other than his pay: he rents an apartment making him one of the few American males in his age-group who isn’t a home-owner

Thor: Does Asgard even have currency? It’s depicted like a “Crystal spires and toga” type utopia with no poverty: even working class Asgardian’s like Scourge seem to be pretty well-off and want for nothing, so he’s from a post-scarcity society where actual magic is a thing. His “Another” coffee cup smashing and the fact he doesn’t have a computer of phone in Ragnarök might indicate that, no, he just doesn’t have, need or understand money. Splitting a bar tab with him must be a nightmare. His breakdown post snap indicates he’s got some cash, but not a huge amount, and is probably skiving of Valkyrie and the other Asgardians.

Banner: Okay, so a PhD could make you a lot of money from patents… in pharmacology or engineering. Theoretical physics? Not so good. And if Banner did have any patents, they’ve probably been seized under eminent domain by the US military. At the start of The Hulk film, he’s working a entry-level factory job at a botteling plant in Brazil. The minimum wage in Brazil is 1069.62 Real per month, that’s 12,835.44 Real per year, or around $2437.79 US per year, before everything goes wrong for him! He then runs off to India, works for Tony for a bit and then gets shot into space. Spidey may actually make more in allowance than Banner does, and Banner is a gown ass man with bills to pay: I’d imagine he loses a lot in ripped clothing.

Natasha and Barton: Pre Civil-war, both are government spooks, so how well does that pay? The salaries of CIA Intelligence Analysts based in the US range from $25,838 to $685,701 , with a median salary of $125,340, so let’s assume that Shield pays in a similar range: $685,701 per year for Director Fury, around 125,000 for Natasha and Cliff, which explains Cliff’s nice, middle-class mid-western home. Post civil war, presumably not great: we know that Natasha spends a lot of her savings running and hiding all across the world, and Cliff takes a deal and presumably lives of his savings, pension and his wife’s income.

Rhodes: Full USAF colonel with over 10 years service? $105,562.80 per year, plus $293.23 drill pay per drill and $175 per month hazard pay, and because he’s team Stark and not Team Cap in Civil War, he’d not lose any of that. He presumably also gets an injury pay-out after his accident. After T’challa and Stark, he might be the best paid avenger.

Dr Strange: spends all his money he made as a surgeon on trying to cure his hands: spends literally his last dollars heading to Nepal to train. Wong even jokes with him about their lack of worldly money when asking for a tuna-melt. But, can use illusion to make people think he has money, and his home and clothes etc. come with the job, so in the same boat as Thor in that he has no money, but needs none AKA, he’s a bastard to try and split a restaurant bill with.

Wanda and Vision: No know source of income, just sort of live in Tony’s hose and eat his food, and on top of that Wanda goes on the run after civil war… yet they can stay in fancy hotels in Edinburgh, a relatively expensive city, and Vison apparently bought them a house to retire in, so one of them has some source of money. Maybe Tony gave Vision years of back-pay form when he was still Jarvis, or maybe the vison has a day job, which is, frankly, hilarious. Could you imagine him as a barista? I can, and it makes me very happy.

Scott Lang: I’d assumed he’d be super, super broke, but apparently the average pay for a private security consultant in the Bay area is $85,430 per year. Not bad. Pity he gets sucked into the quantum realm just as his business is taking off, so presumably, flat broke again.

Bucky: no known income, and I doubt Hydra paid him for being the Winter Soldier so he probably has no savings, but he should, technically, qualify for a military pension. As a single veteran, he’d be eligible for federal tax-free pension of up to $1732 per month, or $20,784 tax free per year. Not much for someone who lives in NYC. He may also be eligible for medical benefits over the loss of his arm. Whether or not he got to see any of that money given how confused his life has been over the past 10 years is unclear, but on paper he’s eligible.

T’challa: He is, quite possibly, richer than Stark, and as an absolute monarch pays no tax and has access to his Nation’s vast wealth in vibanium. It’s good to be the king!

Captain Marvel: USAF captain, and a test pilot; the test pilot school only accepts applicants with a service length of less than 9 years 6 months (10 years six moths of helicopters) as they don’t want older applicants. With 8 years service, $79,538.40, plus drill pay and hazard. However, no know (human) pay since 1990. Flat broke.

Guardians of the Galaxy: no data, but I’m assuming “Cowboy Bebop” levels of perpetual never-ending poverty given the way they choose to live. I’d also assume Rocket has taken all their cash into some sort of Ponzi scheme of his own creation, because just look at him, of course he has.

Spidey: he’s got about $10 of his aunts’ money at any given time, so he can buy lunch… which may in fact be more than Banner or Lang, and we know it’s more that Strange or Thor.

So, here the big one: how rich or how broke is Sam?

Sam Wilson: annoyingly, we’re not directly told what rank Sam held in any MCU film. USAF pararescue “Maroon berets” are generally NCO’s (but there’ are officer-ranked pararescue) , and he’s seen working on his wings at one point, where as officers don’t generally work on or maintain airframes. He’s shown wearing a Nation Air guard grey while jogging at one point to confuse the matter further. The general consensus on redit is he’s a former USAF tech sergeant (E-6). But how long was he in the air force? With six years service (the minimum sensible time he could have served to work in pararescue based on his age), that would be $41,464.80 per year, plus drill pay and hazard. As Anthony Mackie, the actor that plays him, was 36 as of Civil War, and assuming the character is the same age, and assuming he retired from the air force that year, and he joined the USAF at 17, the youngest you can join, he’d have served 19 years, giving him a pay of $51,566.40, the maximum pay you can get at this rank before promotion to Master Sergent, but meaning he left just before he’d qualify for the 50% final salary pension you’d qualify for after 20 years. Which seems weird. So let’s assume the character is one year older than the actor that plays him and served 20 years (ages 17-37), that means Sam has a military pension of $25,783.20 per year (20,784 of it tax-free), plus any injury benefits. He councils other veterans, but doesn’t get paid for that. He also chooses Team Cap in Civil War, so would become a wanted criminal, and so lose his income between 2016 and 2018, and then gets snapped and has no income for 5 years, which would destroy his credit rating. Like the rest of Team Cap, he presumably gets his post snap pardon, and goes to work for the US government at his former pay and rank. However, given how Captain John Walker treats him as an equal, it’s possible he’s been promoted to a captain when the hired back, giving him a pay of between $54,176.40 to $88,142.40 (with 20 years experience, depending on if they take into account his prior service or not, and how much prior service he has), but either way, he’s just starting this as a new job after being legally dead for 5 years: no savings, and no credit.

Commercial fishing vessels cost about 10% of their total value per year in maintenance alone. I can’t identify what sort of boat the Wilson’s have, but some quick googling indicates that the cheapest 15m long wooden in-shore shrimp trawler costs around $140,000, so that’s $14,000 per year in maintenance costs alone, minimum. And that’s a lower estimate, assuming the rest of the business is sound, which we know it isn’t.

So, in concussion, yes, Sam is in some serious financial trouble until he can re-build his savings and credit, but the scary bit is he’s not alone in that: he’s probably better off than Lang, Banner, Danvers, Strange, Thor, Bucky, Wanda and Parker. Only Clint (if he gets a full pardon and gets his full pension), Rhodes, Stark and T’challa aren’t in some sort of potential financial problems. That asshole bank teller was right: despite the fact it seems to pay well on paper, with a few exceptions, the Avengers financials are probibaly a mess. EDIT: Rocket is running the Ponzi scheme, if that’s not clear from context. The others know they have money somewhere, but not where it’s gone. And It’s been pointed out to me that as he’s technically a POW while he’s the Winter Soldier, Bucky is owed over 70 years back-pay, equal to over 3 million dollars, details in the notes.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great.

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point.

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time.

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from.

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about.

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.”

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Sorry x Rare

A/N: I got two lyric requests for Sorry by Beyonce and Rare by Selena Gomez. They were both sort of two sides of the same coin so I wrote them together it mostly goes from rare to sorry. Thanks for the requests, fingers crossed it lives up to what you wanted! <3

Synopsis: You and Harry have been together for a long time but he’s not the same man you fell in love with anymore.

-----

I move my dinner around on my plate, my gaze on the man pacing outside the restaurant on his phone. My man. But it didn't really feel like that these days. These days, Harry was a stranger to me--late nights, phone calls interrupting dinner, waking up to find him gone and not even sure if he'd come home at all.

I watch him remove the phone from his ear in a rush, stare at it, and then shove it aggressively in his pocket. He walks back in, cheeks pink and huffing.

"Should we ask for the bill?" He sits down in a flurry. I stare at his barely-eaten meal and my own dinner mashed to bits.

"We've barely had dinner."

"Babe, we've been here for over an hour since..." he takes his phone back out to inform me of how much time exactly but something must catch his attention because his sentence dies on his lips. I stare, he was so distant lately. "I'll drop you off at home, I've got to meet the boys they decided to talk business-"

"It's 8pm on a Thursday," I state the obvious. "Can't you catch up with them la-"

"This isn't an argument Y/N," Harry finally looks at me. He was done discussing it. He lifts his hands to the waiter and a minute later dinner's been paid for. He wasn't my baby, I think as we stroll outside to his car. I don't know who this man was.

***

I wake up the next morning with the weight of Harry on the other side of the bed. I could smell him, the booze sitting in his pores.

“Ugh,” I groan, not wanting to smell that first thing in the morning. I get up and start my day before I head to work. Soon, Harry appears squinting as I stir sugar into my coffee.

“I need a coffee,” he says, his voice hoarse. It used to sound sexy but now it was just another reminder that things changed. We lived like roommates and it hurt that he never wanted to talk. Half the time, he acted like I wasn’t even there.

I watch him settle with his coffee, taking the first sip and letting out a deep breath. A memory comes to me suddenly, the first year we were dating,

“I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever had,” it was the first night Harry had stayed the whole night and I’d made him coffee in my outdated coffee maker. It came out burnt half the time but that morning’s cup was decent. We’re swaddled in my blankets--the room I rented back then had poor circulation in the winter.

“I think you’re still slightly drunk,” I lean my shoulder against his and cup the warm drink. “I’ve definitely had better coffees.”

“Maybe coffees are just better the morning after,” he says, glancing at me and I know he can see the flush on my cheeks. He knew I was shy talking about certain things in the light of day.

“We can say that,” I mumble into the cup. “It’s just nice to have a heat source.”

“Here,” he takes the cup from me and reaches over to put both on the nightstand.

“Hey I wasn’t done with that.”

“I know but if you’re cold, I know this other heat source--it even works for hypothermia.”

His statement causes a blood rush that warms me already but I don’t say no to what he has in mind. I could make us another cup later.

Harry catches me staring when he looks over and raises an eyebrow. I snap out of my thoughts and twist my lips into a smile, looking back at my own drink bitterly. Who was this man in front of me? Out loud, I ask: “How was your night? You came in late.”

“I was out with the boys.” he says in a tone that meant he didn’t want to talk about it. “It got late.”

“A text would’ve been nice,” I say, still looking at my cup.

“S’not like you were waiting up,” he turns to walk back towards the bedroom.

“Learned not to,” I mumble but I know he’s heard me with the way he pauses. But he didn’t care enough to argue, dispute it, nothing. He leaves.

***

"Guess who just made a commission that's more than I used to earn in a year?" April walks into the small office, an infectious grin on her face.

"You sold him on it?" I put away the file I'm working on and jump up to hug my friend.

"I had to flirt a little--give him a vivid picture of what he could have there, and he signed! I'm bloody brilliant."

April was my American ex-pat who I met when she was looking for a flat a few years ago. And now here she was, working for me at the small real estate office I managed with a few other people I considered friends.

"Do you know if he was single?" I tune back in to hear Janelle asking.

"No, don't give her bad advice!" I scold Janelle. “We don’t date clients.”

"I'm miserably single," April pouts. "I'll take advice even if it’s bad."

"Bad advice is to stay with your college sweetheart to the point where you're not sure he even cares about you." I say to no one in particular. It was just us in the office today, and they knew everything about my life so I didn't care much. But the pin-drop silence that follows is different. I look up to see my friends eyeing each other. "What?"

"Nothing." They stay tight lipped but I push and they crack. "Well, so...we know things are rocky between you and Harry..."

"Things aren't rocky," I clarify. "They're just...nonexistent."

"Right," April slides closer. "Soo, we saw him at the club yesterday."

I raise my eyebrow, "He told me he was meeting up with his boys."

"Oh!" They sound surprised I know, but they look at each other again so I push them. "He was...there was a girl? Sitting on his lap for most of the night? Like, nothing happened I don't think so?" She turns to look at April at the end of each sentence.

Personally, I feel gut-punched even though I suspected this. I knew he wasn't where he said he was going to be sometimes, or with who he said he was going to be with. But he cut our own dinner short last night to be with strangers yesterday? I grip the pen in my hand.

"Y/N honestly...you know we love you and support you. But, you're a special girl and you deserve better than that sod."

"Yeah," Janelle puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're a gem Y/N. There's someone else out there who's gonna see how rare you are."

"I know," I blow my cheeks out. We'd had different conversations like this before, although never this direct. I guess we'd never had direct proof of what my husband was doing until now though.

"He's an idiot not knowing you're so rare," my friends try to comfort me. I feel my eyes well up and I swipe at them. I wasn't going to cry at work but they must sense the tears because they excuse themselves, "We're going to get you a tea, and some pastries to celebrate April's sale. April?"

I keep my face buried in my hands as they leave, take a few deep breaths. "I am rare," I say to myself but even that makes me laugh bitterly. Harry and I had been together for 5 years and here I was trying to count up all the reasons we should stay together when he didn't even care. He was out with other women, and I was waiting around for him.

"I'm rare," I say again. "I'm special, I deserve better. I...deserve better."

When will u be home tonight? I text Harry before I lose my nerve.

Busy he says. That’s it. And then, Why?

What time? I ask again.

8 or so, he responds.

Okay, we need to talk then. I put my phone away, too scared what he might text back. A tear falls from my cheek onto my keyboard, landing on the letter H. It mocks me. I wipe it off, and before I can think about what I'm doing I smash the letter down with my fist. I stand up and walk to the back of the office, a window overlooks the busy street. I'd had enough, I decide. Fuck Harry.

I’m not sure how long I stand there stewing, but my friends walking in with pastries and tea ends the emotional boiling pot from overflowing.

"Thanks," I take the cup from them.

“So we were talking and...” April looks at Janelle and she nods. “You should come out with us some time. Like...tonight. Dance with us, with other people...”

“I...I’ve got something at 8,” I come up with an excuse. As angry as I was, I wanted to have this conversation. It was long overdue.

***

I check my time again, the last text Harry sent me Ok. But it was 8:25 and Harry still wasn’t home. I’d give him five more minutes, I decide. I’d already tried to ring him with no answer.

I stare at the ring on my finger, it was supposed to symbolize a promise he made to me. What a fucking joke. I should’ve never said I do in the first place.

Was it young love, I wonder. Did we do this too fast and we were just set up to fail? But I remember the good memories, the soft and sweet times between us.

“I-I’ve never done something like this before,” I tell Harry. “I hate heights.”

“Listen,” he crowds around me, blocking my view of his friends who are walking up the narrow trail like it was any old walkway. “You go in front of me, I’ll have my hand on your back the whole time. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

I look up into those gentle eyes and swallow my fear. “Okay.”

“I promise it will be so worth it,” he gushes, his excitement uncaged now that I’d agreed. “There’s no lights there so the stars are so bloody bright--I know you’re going to love it!”

I can’t help it, my lips crack into a smile at his boyish excitement. He catches it and pauses, a breath in this whirlwind of a night. What started out as a house party turned into a walk to a local beach which turned into a hike into the woods and up a precarious--and very steep--ridge to get to an isolated lookout. Only with Harry did I find myself in these situations. And I loved it. I loved him, I realise then. My expression must change because he tugs on my hand, probably worried I’d change my answer.

“Walk ahead,” he instructs and I nearly tip toe on the ridge that’s at least 30 feet across. But his steady hand on my back pushes me gently and I walk across confidently until I look down 2/3 of the way. I freeze in place but Harry’s ready. “Y/N, you’re safe here. Look at me-look...”

I crane my neck and he grounds me, oh my god how did I just realise now how in love I was with him? He squeezes my hand, asks if I was okay. I had to be, I couldn’t stay stuck in the middle.

Inch by inch we finally make it to the other side and I jump off with a yelp which sets Harry off in a burst of laughter. Pretty soon he’s lifted me over his shoulder and carries me to the lookout on the edge. My feet had been through enough, he’d said.

And he was right--it was so worth it; the view with all the stars laid out. The buildings and their light pollution below were blocked out by the outcrops and it made the stars twinkle in all their glory. It made it the perfect place to be with the person I loved.

“Isn’t it the most incredible view?” Harry whispers in awe behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“I.....I have no words apparently,” I laugh and turn in his arms. “Thanks for pushing me, this...it was worth it.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ears and gazes at me in a way that makes me want to squirm. But I hold his gaze.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks with a smile.

“Compared to the view,” I glance behind us. “I guess I’m alright.”

“No,” he guides my face back towards his. “This view over that one, any day. M’just that lucky.”

My words die on my lips as I’m overwhelmed by this feeling between us, the one I thought would keep us together like this forever.

He raises an eyebrow when I go silent and I shrug, “I’m all out of words today.”

I close my eyes as he kisses my temple. I turn back around and we spend the moment in silence, drinking in the view. His friends chatter around us but they’re background noise. My life felt like a movie right now.

Before we leave as a group, I tug Harry back. This was a good as place as any to tell him. I press my lips to his, and it takes him a second but he’s kissing me back. Before it can get carried away I push away and tell him what I’d been thinking all night, “I love you.”

He takes a step back, and then he’s grinning and pulling me back. “I love you! I love you listen, I’ve been wanting to say that for weeks!”

“Weeks?!”

“Yeah weeks! My sister said it was too soon, I might scare you off!”

I think about a few weeks ago, I was intensely shy around him even then. Maybe she was right, but the idea that he talked about me to his sister makes me flush. I wrap my arms around his waist “I just...this moment is so perfect. I never want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to.” he’d promised. “I’m yours forever Y/N.”

When 8:30 comes and goes I call April, she lets me know where they were. “We’re so happy you’re coming! Are you sure you don’t want us to meet you somewhere else?” she shouts into the phone. When I tell her I just wanted to be where they were she reminds me to text them when I was nearby.

I have to dig into the back of my closet, past the pantsuits I wore to work, the casual dresses and loungewear. I still had some of my old party clothes, just a bit tighter than they used to be. But for where I was going, it would fit in.

Before I leave, I take a pen and scrawl a note: “Great talk"

My friends spot me as I walk in. The music is instantly too loud, the lights too bright, and there are too many people. But one of my them shoves a drink in my hand and pretty soon it’s the best place on earth. It was exactly where I needed to be. I turn off my cellphone and enjoy myself.

After a certain point, I don’t even know who I’m talking to, but pressed up against a body, feeling wanted, it drives me to keep dancing all night. Eventually, I crash at April’s and don’t roll out of hers until 11 the next morning. Harry’s barely an afterthought until I’m tucked in the taxicab taking me home and turn on my phone. 8 missed calls, 2 voicemails and 13 texts.

I’m shocked at the volume, Harry hadn’t blown up my phone like this in over a year. I listen to one voicemail: “Where the hell are you? I come home an hour late and you’re bloody gone with this stupid note here. Pick up! I’ve called you a billion times.”

I stare at my phone, I hadn’t heard Harry this passionate since...well it was a long time. And all it took was going out late and not answering his calls, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It almost makes me angrier; I had to partake in this juvenile dance to get his attention, even though we’d been married nearly 2 years.

He’s on a call when I get home, talking numbers or something. I head directly to the shower, clean up, and take my sweet time. It must’ve driven him mad waiting for me because by the time I’m out he blows a gasket.

“What’s this stunt you pulled last night? Wanting to talk and leaving me a stupid sarcastic note just because I’m late? Where were you?”

“Out,” I shrug. “I didn’t know you were late. You didn’t text.”

“I didn’t tex--oh I see, now we’re being petty yeah?”

That irked me, “I’m not being petty. It’s not like I get the same courtesy when you’re out late!”

“I’m busy, I can’t always be texting you!”

Excuses, I laugh and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Busy what? Screwing other women-”

“Don’t be making shit up-”

“I’ve had people tell me that they see you with other women Harry! S’not a far stretch!”

That quiets him. Finally, he comes forward to stand inches away. “Y/N, c’mon. You and me...this is stupid. Sure I go out to party but I’m not-”

“Stop.” he was actually trying to talk his way out of this. And because I’d rather step in front of an oncoming train than cry in front of him, I head to the front door and walk out. I’d find someplace to crash today, but I wasn’t doing this.

***

“How’re you doing?” Janelle asks. I’d shown up at her doorstep and she set up her guest bed. She had plans so I spent most of my time burying myself in work, trying to get rid of all that angry energy pent up in me. Janelle had just come home.

“I’m just trying to move on. I don’t want to talk about him, I just don’t care at this point--I’m fed up!”

“As you should be,” she agrees. “Listen, I know we had a crazy night yesterday but I’m going out with some friends today and...maybe it’ll help you?”

I think about the killer headache this morning, but I also remember how good it felt to forget for a bit. I agree. Before I know it, Janelle’s found something that fits me and we’re back at a different club than the night before. Her friends are familiar faces but after a few drinks we’re all best friends. It feels great. Until I spot Harry’s face.

“That’s enough,” his face looms over mine as he pushes away the man I’m up against.

“What the fuck Harry...” I trail off as he pulls me away from the middle of the crowd. I try to pry his hand off but there’s too many people and he’s moving too quickly...and I’ve had a lot of drinks. “Let me go!” I say when we finally step away. We’re in what must be a private room. He seemed familiar with it--of course.

“So just because you heard I’m out and about some nights, you decide to come here and fuck around with random men?”

“Excuse me?” I stare at him, he was out of his mind. “I’m out having fun with my friends! I’m not here because of you.”

“Really? You come to the same place I come to all the time and dance with these strangers? And you’re drunk as fuck!”

“Since when did you care?” I ask. “Just leave me alone. You’ve been doing that perfectly fine the last few months.”

“I’m your bloody husband Y/N, you can’t just-”

“Then act like one!” I shout, and in the muffled quiet of the room with the bass thumping through it rings out. “I don’t need you! And you made it clear you don’t need me. These rings are a fucking joke, here-” I take mine off and throw it at him.

“You don’t mean it-”

“I do.” I give him a level stare, suddenly clear-headed. Maybe I’d process it later, but right now I was finally seeing what he’d become. He deserved to feel how I felt, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. I flip him with both hands, “Quite frankly Harry, you can suck my d-”

“Harry!” A shrill voice rings out from the entrance that now carries the loud beats of the dance floor, swallowing my words. “Liam told me you were here!”

I glance at the brunette in the doorway and back at him. I couldn’t even muster an eye roll; I had enough.

“Y/N!” Harry calls my name as I walk out.

“No it’s me, Becky?!” she tries to correct him. I can’t help but laugh as I make my way back to my friends with a drink in my hand, feeling free.

***

“Y/N, it’s Harry. I don’t know how it got this shite just please call me back. Just give me five minutes that’s all I n--message deleted”

“He’s moved on to the office phone then?” Janelle asks, her desk was beside mine so she’d heard him as I checked my messages. It was two weeks since that glorious night when I’d dumped Harry’s ass. Although a lot of my things were still at our house, I was just staying in a hotel right now while I figured things out. One thing I knew for sure though, I didn’t want to see him again.

“It’s pretty pathetic,” I say. It was also pathetic how long I’d stayed waiting around for us to be magically fixed. But that was something I was working on getting past.

“You’re glowing without him,” April says from where she’s getting her files together. “Haven’t you got that showing out east?”

“Yeah, oh god is that the time?” I rush to get my files in order. “I’ll catch up with you later-”

“We’re still getting drinks after?”

“Yes, drinks!” I call out as I leave the office and head down to the lobby. I don’t expect Harry there, and I barely have time for him as he comes up to keep my pace.

“Harry, I’ve got somewhere to be please leave me alone.”

“Y/N, wait just please listen to me.”

“No.”

“2 minutes!”

“Not even 1,” I spot my cab out front and head towards it. I’m about to get in but Harry holds the door. “Harry let go I’m going to be late.”

“Just let me talk to you, please!”

I finally look at him and he’s quite a sight. His hair is matted and without it’s usual bounce. He’s got a rough look and a 5 ‘o clock shadow.

“You had plenty of time to talk to me for months, you were too busy at the club. Sorry not sorry,” I tug at the door and he lets go, I don’t spare a backwards glance as we drive away.

One of the showings is successful, I manage to sell the family on the home and we set up a meeting to go over details at my office later in the week. I’ve got a bounce in my step as I return to the office. I tell the girls I’d meet them at the bar as I finalize my papers at the office. My bounce falters when I go head out after 5 to see Harry waiting outside the building.

“Y/N,” he calls out when he sees me. “I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

“That’s called stalking,” I say. A few people walking past us turn to glance at him and he notices. He moves to the inside lobby and asks me to follow. With a big sigh I do.

“I know what I did.” he begins.

“Congratulations,” I roll my eyes.

“No wait, I know what I did to you. And sorry can’t cover it. Just let me make it up to you, we have history and-”

“You don’t get it.” I stop his monologue from going any further. “I’m gonna be just fine. Without you. You didn’t care about our history until you couldn’t have me. I don’t know what happened to you Harry, but you’re not the man I fell in love with-”

“I know,” he says, tears of frustration coating his lashes. “I fucked up, I-I didn’t see what I had right in front of me and I just-”

“Let her slip away? Is that the best you can come up with?” I scoff. “You know what Harry? I’m done with this! Boy...bye.”

“Y/N just--” he grabs my arm before I can leave and pushes something cold into my palm. My wedding ring.

“I don’t want this,” I push it back in his hand.

“Please just take it--hold onto it,” he pushes it back into mine and closes my fingers over it. “I can’t...I can’t hold onto it just take it! You don’t even have to think about it-”

“Harry,” I soften my tone. He was desperate and even though some part of me thought it was about time he felt this type of way, my heart hurt a little. I didn’t want him to see that though so I just tuck the ring into the pocket of his button up and pat it. “Goodbye Harry.”

I walk away with my head held high even though he calls out to me. I walk the few blocks to where my friends are waiting and their warm smiles are enough to help me push the memory of Harry’s teary eyes, and the real history we did have once upon a time away. I was done with him, no longer thinking about him.

I just kept telling myself, I was rare like a gem and I had to see that. And maybe one day, someone else will too.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #fic #writingsfromhome #Lyrics #beyonce #selena gomez #this one went through a million round of changes #I'm about done with it now #i hope I didn't miss anythingg

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awkwards · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 5. Aphrodisiac : Pleasurable Test | Overhaul

Day 5: Aphrodisiac

Title: Pleasurable Test

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Count: 2.2k

Summary: You needed to make ends meet, and so you go to subject yourself to a testing center that will pay. Turns out, you’ve signed yourself up for way more than you expected. You should really read the fine print.

Warnings: Noncon, syringe, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yandere, sadist overhaul

Note: It’s finals week and definitely starting to hit me. Also, thanks for all of the support! If you’d like to be tagged for my kinktober fics, dm me! My inbox is open~

You snarled behind your gag at the man in the lab coat, who was currently coming at you with another needle. When he stepped close, you managed to kick the shot away.

“You can’t even handle one little girl. Pathetic.” A voice you haven’t heard before chides. A man wearing a plague mask and rather large coat with purple feathers stepped in. You could barely see him from where you’re restrained on the operating table. He snaps gloves onto his his, his eyes glaring at the subordinate. “And now that needle is filthy.”

“I’m so sorry sir!” you could see the sweat from the doctor, his face pailing. “She kicked me and it went flying!”

“Begone. I do not wish to hear your excuses.”

“Yes sir.” The guy practically runs from the room.

The man levels his gaze on you, judging.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, challengingly.

You’ve been here for a week. It was supposed to be one test, in which you got paid for. You took it because money was tight and you needed to pay rent. Little did you realize they would keep you kidnapped and subject to their devices because you were the “perfect candidate”. Your fear has practically been pushed aside by your anger. For a week they’ve been sticking you with needles, running “tests”, keeping you on the edge of functioning. All you had left was your anger and attitude.

“What a nuisance.” The man sighs. His dark eyes scan your barely clothed body.

Quicker than you can move, the man has your legs pinned down, fastened in place just like your arms and neck are. A gasp of shock careens past your lips, silenced by the gag.

“That’s better.” He moves over to the counter where the equipment lays. He turns his back towards you. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I assume you’re the one in charge of these monkeys. Do you know who I am?” You bite at him.

“I am Kai Chisaki. You will address me as Overhaul.” He turns slowly, an intense look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. “I know plenty about you. You are a quirkless individual. Your blood type is AB negative. You’re allergic to penicillin. You’ve lived in this city your whole life. I know you were adopted at the age 5. You had a kidney transplant at the age 12.”

“Your parents were brutally murdered when you were in high school by a villain attack. I know that the villain attack was actually a target for your father’s brother because he made some bad deals with the yakuza.” He grabs a needle and begins to mix a mystery pink liquid into it. You’re shaking by now. How does he know so much? “You dropped out of high school quickly after, and less than two years later sold most of your adoptive parent’s belongings, and then the house.”

Overhaul takes deliberate and slow steps towards you, tapping the air bubbles out of the needle. “You moved into a seedy little apartment in the middle of town. You work at a small bar across from the noodle shop in the bad part of town because it was the only place that would hire you. This month you couldn’t make ends meet so you showed up here.”

A gloved hand drops onto your arm, thumb soothing over the prominent vein of yours. “And most importantly, I know your name isn’t actually Nakaya Kosuke. You, Miss (y/n), have quite the extensive history.”

You jerk hard at hearing your birth name. No one should know! Only your adoptive parents, who as he stated were dead, and the lawyer that erased your identity knew.

You try to speak through the gag, your words hushed.

An amused dark chuckle falls from him. “Oh, my apologies, did you want to speak?”

You nod your head.

His eyebrows raise, as if debating it. Finally, he unties the back of your gag. You spit it out, breathing in deeply. “Careful now, say something I don’t like and I’ll put it back on. Or I’ll remove your tongue.”

“Why am I here?”

He hums. “You are special. Did you know that your blood type is extremely rare?”

You clench your teeth, glaring at this cocky son-of-a-bitch. “I did.”

“Well, fortunately for us, your blood type was exactly what we’ve been looking for in our experiment. It’s extremely hard to come by a willing participant, too.”

“I’m not willing. I signed up for a test. One.”

His chuckle is light, and his eyes are wide with sadistic mirth. “No. You actually signed up until there was one successful test. So far, none of them have been such. It would appear someone didn’t read the fine print.”

Oh. Oh god. Did you really?

“No worries. You will be fully compensated. Well-” His eyes narrow. “If you live.”

Overhaul begins to prep the vein in your arm. “See, quirks are filthy. Those heroes parading around their quirks are but vermin on this earth. Pathetic. But you - no, you’re corrupted like those who roam the streets. Your blood is pure. Your genes are clean. You and I are far more similar than you might think, y/n.“

“What are you going to do to me?” Fear is fully controlling your mouth now. You shiver as he sanitizes the area he plans on injecting you.

“I have reason to believe that your blood will be the perfect capsule to carry my new invention. It’s a device that will remove the quirks of those who come in contact with it.” The look in his eyes turned wild, excited. You shiver. “My parents were ripped away from me, too. Those heroes did nothing to save them. Yet, they parade around the world as if we, the common folk, owe them. Not for long. Now, don’t make too much of a noise; I’d rather not have to remove your tongue.”

The prepped needle’s cap comes off, and the metal slides into your skin. You whimper, looking away as Overhaul begins to press its contents into your bloodstream. As quick as it began, it ended. He wipes away the lone blood drop before pressing a bandaid against you.

“Normally I would never dream of coming so close to an individual. But you are different from the filth filling this world.” Gloved hands grab your chin, turning you to look into his eyes. “You’re pure. Perfect. And I plan on taking full advantage of that, my sweet Y/N.”

Tears burn your eyes, your lip trembling. You finally let your body relax. This time you were truly fucked. He pulls his hand away, throwing away the needle tip of the syringe. You watch him walk away, back to the counter where he removes his gloves and washes his hands and arms.

A warmth began to fill your system. You shoot a concerned look at Overhaul. It was like your body was warming up from the inside out, your blood beginning to boil. A feverish sweat was spreading over every inch of you. “Something’s wrong.” You croak out.

Overhaul turns back to glance at you, sweaty and blushed. A mild look of intrigue covers his face. “Oh?”

“It’s burning me.” You whine.

Your body is completely uncomfortable now. The warmth feels … different. Wrong even.

“Explain to me what is happening.” He dries his hands leisurely, watching you from across the room before putting on a new, clean pair of rubber gloves.

“I’m hot. It feels like my blood is boiling. I -” you whimper as the slightest movement of your head increases the feeling tenfold. “Please make it stop.”

Overhaul takes his time as he walks back over to you. He runs a finger over your pulsepoint. The single touch sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, a moan following. “How interesting.”

You’re mortified and confused. You wish you could rub your thighs together at the uncomfortable feeling between them.

“I see now. The molecular constructs of those two vials creates an aphrodisiac.”

You pinch your eyes shut as his single digit drags down your arm, over the hospital gown you have. The thin fabric is too much. It feels as if it’s weighing you down and making it that much harder to breathe.

“I suppose I should relieve you. It’ll be the only way to collect your blood at the right molecular compounds,” He muses to himself, talking out loud as if you’re not there.

Overhaul pulls off the glove on his left hand. “If I hadn’t reassembled you already, I would let you suffer until the side effects wear off. But, because of me, you really are clean. You should thank me.”

Not knowing what to say, you watch the man through your watery tears. He presses his bare hand on your stomach. If you weren’t being restrained, you would have arched into his hand, moaning loud as pleasure floods your core.

When he removes his hand, your whole body shivers as air nips your bare skin. How? “Wh-what?”

He chuckles. “My quirk.”

You watch as Overhaul steps around your pinned body, coming close to your wet sex.

“What a mess you’ve made. Disgusting.” Despite his words, he runs his gloved hand up your right leg, stopping at the stop below your belly button. You can feel your walls flutter.

A choked out “Please,” tumbles from your lips. You’re so turned on it hurts. Your brain can’t think straight anymore.

You moan loudly as a single finger strokes your dripping lips. You roll your hips as best as you can to get more friction. He lets out a proper laugh at your discomfort, sliding his single digit past your folds.

“So needy. What would you do without me? If I wasn’t here to relieve you?”

Your walls flutter around his digit as he runs his finger against your inside. The burning in your blood only seems to increase at the slight relief. “Please, Overhaul please!”

At your pitiful begging, he slides another finger in, stretching your walls. He works the two digits in a slow and methodical pace, scissoring you. You whine and cry, grinding your hips into his fingers. When he curls the two fingers and strokes the spongy spot inside you, a coil snaps, and you cum hard around him.

He doesn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you. You moan as you come down from your high.

The heat inside dims for the barest of moments before firing back up with a vengeance.

“Did that make you feel better?” He mocks, putting more force behind his motions.

You gasp as the coil of pleasure begins again. “It hurts! I need more, please!”

“Patience, little one. You’ll get your release. Soon, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

As if to prove his point, he uses his thumb to stroke your clit hard. Your walls flutter and drip around his gloved fingers as you feel yourself close to the crest again. “Oh - Oh, oh please!” You wail.

“Cum again, pet.”

You do. Your walls spasm as you tip over, shaking in your restraints as a sigh leaves you.

He doesn’t stop. The fire inside is rapidly dwindling, and you flinch at the touch.

“Oh, are you sensitive already?” He muses. “It won’t last long.”

True to your words, the fire picks up again. You sob as his touch hurts. It hurts yet is relieving you too. Tears stream down your face as you’re overstimulated, but the heat is still there.

“It's almost over. Hold on just a bit longer.”

Overhaul fingers you faster, making the coil of pleasure twist quicker and harder than the last two orgasms. You sob as you near the edge again.

“Last one. Give me one more. Cum over my fingers.”

“I can’t!” You cry out, rocking your hips into his fingers despite what you say.

“You can. And you will.” You can hear the squelching as his fingers target your g-spot, his thumb rolling your clit hard. “Cum again y/n.”

A scream rips from your throat as you’re forced over the edge of another orgasm. Your entire body tenses, and white fills your eyes. Overhaul drags his fingers out of you slowly, making you wince from the overstimulation. He tears the glove covered in cum off of his hand before sliding a new set on.

Panting hard, you come down again, body relaxing. Your blood no longer feels like you’re being boiled alive.

You flinch as a syringe is forced into your arm, and watch in sick curiosity as he draws blood from you. Even the touch of the needle makes you quiver, your entire body too sensitive for touch.

“Shh, it’ll be okay. You did so well.”

You moan, shaking as he places a bandage over your skin again. Your head swims as black dots at the edge of your vision.

You look up at him, and can tell even from behind his mask that he’s smiling. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest well, pet.”

Tag list:

@ofthedewthesunlight

#kinktober 2020 #awkwards kinktober #bnha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha overhaul #yandere overhaul #sadist overhaul #tw : noncon #tw : needles #tw : aphrodisiac #tw : overstimulation #tw : multiple orgasms #tw : yandere

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Record Mirror (July 14, 1979): 119/?

THE QUEEN BACKLASH ENDS HERE

WITHOUT DOUBT Queen are among that elite number of bands universally hated by the rock press.

The rancour is, make no mistake, mutual which is understandable. If you find yourself on the receiving end of an inveterate dislike at the outset of your career and watch it being nurtured and carefully cultivated over the next six years you’re bound to retaliate.

Queen’s hatred manifests itself by their continued habit of ignoring the music press i.e. refusing to give interviews. There is the occasional token “chat”, pointless as it is innocuous, but in the main it amounts to a blanket “No.”

One of the last interviews Freddie Mercury gave was the last nail in the perspex coffin. Under a headline which boldly asked ‘Is This Man A Prat?’ the king of the leotards was demolished by one of the old school Queen haters and Freddie obviously came to the conclusion, in its wake, that interviews in future would be both superfluous (he was popular enough) and detrimental.

The curtain, velvet naturally, closed.

Roger Taylor, a little wary, a little weary, sits stiffly in an armchair. The juggernauts rattling the Chelsea Street outside create a sonorous buzz bomb hum in the room.

You expect a member of Queen to look elegant. In fact Roger is only wearing a wine colour mohair jacket, black shirt and blue jeans.

He apologises for being a little late and explains how he went to the wrong address. Roger seems to be the only member of Queen left who is prepared, albeit rarely, to open his mouth in the presence of a hack. A question springs to mind . . . why?

“We all sat around a table before I flew over from Munich to discuss the press situation and we agreed I should be the one to represent the band. Freddie is very uncompromising and refuses to have much to do with journalists.

“Obviously, he’s had a few raw deals with them in the past,” observes Taylor.

Roger himself has a rather low view of the music press.

“Most of it is rubbish. There was something I liked recently, a piece on Malcolm McLaren, but in the main I think I’m the only one of Queen to actually read the music papers.”

Why does he think the band are systemically slagged?

“I think it’s because Queen have always come across as being a rather confident band. We seemed, to other people at least, to be very sure of ourselves. I think the press may have misconstrued the confidence, mistaking it for a form of arrogance. Hence they became wary of our motives which bred a dislike for our music.”

Now that’s what I call a neat conclusion.

At the risk of being sent to Coventry by my colleagues I’d like, if I may, to come clean. I love Queen (you’re fired, Ed).

I think it all began with a simple pre-packed but indisposable line – “Dynamite with a laser beam” and has continued uninterrupted (despite the occasional flaw) right through to ‘Queen Live Killers’.

A combination of reasons, Freddie Mercury’s lascivious lisp – the most attractive intonation known to man . . . Brian May’s reel ‘em off rococo riffs that would, in his capable hands, transform the theme music for ‘Waggoners’ Walk’ into a meisterwork . . . John Deacon’s almost stoic stance, incongruous yet integral . . . Roger Taylor’s intense power, so unexpected from one so slight . . . the ability to go over the top without failing into the trap of caricature . . . a desire to give the punters what they want without pandering . . . that cast iron confidence . . . those nine glorious winter weeks of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which kept the cold away from my soul . . .

Yes, I love Queen.

Roger explains the story behind ‘Killers’ which features just about every Queen classic which ever found its way into a silk lined memory bank.

“We always knew that one day we would make a live album. I think it was well planned. About 90 per cent of our last European tour was recorded on a mobile unit and we then spent weeks sitting through the songs in the studio.

“The result is a 100 per cent LIVE album. Nothing has been touched up in the process of selection, I think that’s pretty rare these days. Many ‘live’ albums are tampered with.”

The choice of single is unusual – ‘Love Of My Life’. “It’s not so unusual when you hear the way it came out. The song seems to have such a wide appeal. Everywhere we go the reaction to it is the same. The audience are just bursting to sing along.”

The result is Queen’s best single since ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ (that was their LAST one crawler, ED)

As I mentioned earlier the band are currently residing in Munich where they are “experimenting” in the studio.

“We are recording in a totally different way for us,” says Roger who speaks with a delicate London accent only typical of cockneys with dramatic training and David Essex.

“Every time we entered a studio in the past we had a good idea of what we were going to do. This time we started from scratch and the result is amazing. The music is nothing like anything we’ve done before, I guess you could say it’s much simpler.”

And this novel approach to their music also extends to their shows. On their next British tour – in the late Autumn – the band will be playing much smaller venues than they are accustomed to.

“In London for example we went to play to audiences of about two or three thousand in different areas. I think it’s much fairer to the fans.”

But won’t this affect their stage show which is after all a crucial factor for any powerpomp outfit?

“Not really. We will just scale down the show accordingly. Besides,” he says taking another bite out of the biscuit, “we haven’t used dry ice in years.”

The monkey on Queen’s back, as corpulent and cantankerous as ever, has been put there by those who firmly believe the band can never emulate past achievements. Roger is cognizant of its presence but refuses to unpeel its bananas.

“That all began after ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. When it stayed at number one all those weeks we were kindly informed that we would never be able to make another single to rival it both artistically and from the point of view of sales.

“Yet ‘We Are The Champions’ sold a great deal more and has since become the biggest selling single in the entire history of Elektra Asylum – our label in the States.

“We don’t do the amazingly complex things any more because we’ve moved on from that. We concentrate on the music we are doing now and we intend to do it the best we can, it’s ridiculous looking behind and and what you’ve done.

“There’s nothing like going back on the road to re-unite the bond between the four personalities and strengthening our belief in the band. We are a real working unit and, in my experience of the music business, one of the most democratic bands around today.”

A statement like that cries out to be expounded.

“People think every member of all the bands, not naming any names, are treated equally that is get the same money as their colleagues. That’s rubbish. In many bands there are a couple of guys that get all the money. The rest are on wages. Queen share the profits equally.”

And they don’t have a manager taking his cut either, John Reid departed a couple of years back and now the band themselves make all the major policy decisions. Why did they decide to dispense with the services of a manager?

“Basically because we were fed up with giving other people money. Y’know it never ceases to amaze me how naive those guys are in bands who have just had their first hit. After all this time I’ve forgotten just how naive we must have been at the beginning.

“I mean, everything seems so great when you get into the charts for the first time. You’re living on cloud nine and nothing else matters. But in truth that hit means absolutely nothing. So few people achieve any amount of financial success in this business.

“Oh, you think, you’re really living . . . for a while. Somebody gets you a flat in Chelsea and it’s all free. But one day the rent stops being paid for you and you realise you’re skint.

“Since John Reid has gone the four of us have always made a point of discussing everything together. We have various people working for us but all the important decisions are made by us alone. That way we get freedom of choice – and financial independence.”

My attention is suddenly diverted.

“FORTY-LOVE!” Wimbledon, the Persil White opiate for the hoi polloi squashed in a strawberry crush wrings out its perspiring petticoats on the TV in the next room. Roger’s girlfriend, an extremely attractive French girl called Dominique, is engrossed. The couple have lived together for two years. Crippled old marriage questions permeate the air.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” says Roger. “It’s simply a contract and the fewer contracts I enter into the better. If you get on well with someone then there isn’t any harm in living with that person – but marriage is something else again.”

They live in a six bedroomed Victorian house just outside London, which is set in 20 acres. Roger has a “tiny” town house in Barnes as well. What’s it like having a bank full of money at the age of 29?

“I don’t hide away from life. Queen have never been one of those ‘being grabbed in the street’ type bands. It may happen when the four of us are together – but when we are out alone we are seldom bothered. That gives me the opportunity to enjoy myself. I go to clubs a lot. I like having a good time. I don’t think you could describe any of the band as leading sheltered lives.

“But I have completely lost touch with how much things cost. When you find yourself living in hotels for so long you never really deal in money as such. Everything is available whenever you want it – but you never see the cash actually being handed over.

“I’ve forgotten what it was like to be penniless which Queen were for years. I guess that must happen to many successful rock bands.”

Another thing that happens to many successful rock bands – they quit the country. But not Queen it appears.

“We have always based ourselves in England and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so. We could leave at any time but we choose to stay. People believe we are tax exiles because we spend a lot of the time out of the country recording in studios all over Europe and touring.”

And what will happen when the band finally trudge wearily down the road leading to that ivory strewn elephants’ graveyard . . . ?

“I know it’s bound to happen one day. I suppose I’d take a long, long holiday . . . and then make a solo album.”

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #dominique beyrand #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #record mirror #record mirror july 1979 #queen scans

85 notes · View notes

20moonchild21 · 3 years

Text

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 1

[Pairing]

bunny!JK x human!oc, Jungkook x female!oc

[Warnings]

mention of abuse, injures, angst, fluff, mention of blood, fear

[Words]

[author]

Wow, I am so excited! Leave a like, comment, recommendation or reply under the chapter!

If you want to read a really good hybrid!Jimin story, you have to read inferiority complex by @starlightauroras-writes! She is the cutest author ever, and that story definitely deserves to be read! So don’t wonder if you will find some similar details, this chapter was inspired by her!

Stay healthy

Mꨄ

[prologue ||| chapter 2]

“All right everyone. That’s it for today. Have nice summer vacations, and don’t forget about the deadline of your term papers. The clock is ticking.” The man in the very front of the big room said into his microphone, but the chaos was already breaking out among the people sitting opposite of him.

The girl sitting in the front row slide her fingers faster over the keyboard, tipping in the last piece of information into her laptop, before she saved her notices and closed the thin computer.

She looked up. The room was filled with loud voices and cheering, as soon as the professor had laid his microphone down onto her desk. Immediately, people stormed out of the lecture hall, pens and paper balls were thrown all or some people yelled to each other from all over the room.

The girl sighed at this scenario. You wouldn’t think that were actually adult people, that would soon be representation the countries law and order.

Half of the people in here didn’t really care about studying law, or becoming a judge or lawyer in their future. The only thing they care about was to enjoy their college life as long as possible, which mostly included no stop partying and passing the exams with the minimum amount of points.

The other half, who cared about passing the final exams with as much points as possible, wanted to become either lawyer for economical right, because it was the best paid, or for political right, because such lawyer would always be needed.

And there was she, the girl in the very first row, who neither wanted to be a lawyer for economic right or political right, nor was she there to party trough the nights with her friends. No, she had another goal for her future.

“Miss Carson.” The professor said, as he walked around the table, looking amused at the small, blond haired girl, that was still, or better said already, reading in one of her law books. “Yet again, I see you reading in a book. Do you ever do anything else?”

The girl looked up from her book, a small smile was forming on her face.

“Yes, I do.” She said and closed the thick book. “But I want to get as much information as possible for my term paper. I really need it to be perfect. It needs to be proof to any loopholes, and I think am on something big this time.”

The professor’s left eyebrow cocked up in surprise. If someone had not to worry about getting not enough points to pass this last hurdle, it was her.

“Is that so?” He joked, leaning slightly against the big, brow desk, arms crossed over his chest. “You know that you always deliver the best terms. I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”

The girl, who was now occupied with pressing the big book into her backpack, stopped in her movements. She knew that she was one of the best students, and she also knew that she could pass those exams with little effort. This wasn’t the problem.

"I know.” She simply said and looked up at the old man leaning on the desk. “And thank you.”

“I am really excited for your terms. What topic do you write about this time?” He asked curiously.

The girl hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should tell him or not. Her final paper terms, the terms that would decide whether or not she would get a chance to fulfil all her goals, were about a very sensitive topic. She was a 100% aware of this.

But then, he would read them either way, so there was no point in lying to him.

Her heart raced, as she opened her mouth. She had known her professor of law for almost 4 years now, but writing about such a sensitive topic, she didn’t know what his opinion was on that.

“I – ehm…” She coughed, before turning back to her backpack, pressing the book into it with one smooth movement. She closed the flap and swung the piece of fabric over her shoulder, before turning back to the older man. It was now or never, she had to show confidence. “I write about the equality of Hybrids in our political everyday life. I think – there are cases where laws had obviously been disregarded, ignored or misused by judges and lawyers. And there are not just one or two of such cases. There are hundreds of them every day, there are hundreds of Hybrids who don’t get the right of protection and free speech. There is no point in denying and ignoring this anymore.”

To say that his face held a shocked expression would be an exaggeration. He looked more like he tried really hard to process the information and to find a fitting response to it. After a few seconds of silence, he opened his mouth, just to close it again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between the index finger and thumb.

“Hope…” He said after another few seconds. “You are aware of me being not the only one who is going to read your term papers, aren’t you?”

“I know.” The girl whispered, still staring directly into his eyes.

“I appreciate your braveness to write your final exams about such a sensitive topic, and I am not going to lie, most of the professors committee won’t share the same opinion as the one you have.” His voice was calm and factual, but the girl somehow heard a touch of sadness out if it. “Are you sure you don’t want to write about political law? Your last exam was absol…”

“My term is based on facts. I neither made anything up, nor am I going to tell lies.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “There is no way someone of the committee can reject or doubt any part of my exam. I analysed every potential loophole and I can prove any of those lacks wrong, if someone say something. I even…”

“Okay, okay. I believe you, Hope.” The professor said, as he pushed himself away from the table, slowly walking up to the smaller girl. “I just want you to carefully think about what you want to specialize in the future. Hybrid lawyers are very little paid, and almost none of them gets any appreciation. You are aware of that, aren’t you?”

“I am not doing this for money or appreciation.” She quietly said under her breath. She knew he didn’t mean to sound harsh or mean towards her, but still, those words hurt. “I just – I think that I can change something in this world. There are so many people out there, that share the same opinion as I do, but are not brave enough to stand up and do something. But if I would go public with my mission, I think – I think something could really change.”

The man was still looking at the girl. He was stunned by the passion and emotions she spread while talking. He knew that her mission, as she called it, was the right thing to do in this world and that the things she said were true, but he also has been living long enough on his world to know how reality works.

He sighed as he moved his gaze away from her. Somehow, she reminded him of himself, when he way younger. She had a big heart, and a strong urge to question the thing people tell her. That made her one of the best students of his class.

“Okay.” He simply said and turned around to leave the room, but one last time he turned around. “Just be careful, Hope. This world can be hard. It will destroy you, if you are careless.”

“I will prove you that this will be worth it.” She yelled after him, as he passed the door leading to the hallway. She knew he couldn’t hear her next words, because they came out as a whisper, a promise to herself. “I know it will worth in the end.”

The night sky above New York was clear. Not a single cloud could be seen, and the dark sky looked like it was sprinkled with thousands and millions of small, shining dots. Right in the middle, the round an bright moon.

The girl took a deep breath of the clean air. It was definitely the right choice to rent an apartment a few minutes outside of New York’s centrum, where the day never seemed to take an end. But here, there were not much car driving by and pollute the air. There weren’t many people to scream at each other, because in the city trouble you couldn’t understand a word. Just peaceful silent.

The conversation from earlier was still playing round and round in her head. Her professor wasn’t a bad person. In the past, he was nothing but helpful and cooperative when it came to sensitive themes or problems. But in the end, he was like any other human: he kept his mouth shut and saved himself a lot of trouble.

But could she mind that behaviour?

Way down deep inside of her, she felt something. She just felt that deep inside of her, there was a small flame flickering. It was waiting there to be lightened with something, and she just knew that she was meant to change something.

She felt this sparkle since she was a little child. The name ‘Hope’ was given to her by her mom. Hope was born in 2029, shortly after the first Hybrids were created. Her birth caused a lot of trouble. Being born with a heart disease, the doctor predicted her to be dead within the following hours. But she hadn’t died. She survived because she got a second chance to live.

With 9 years, she had her very first encounter with a Hybrid. Her mom, who was a doctor at the local hospital, was called late in the afternoon. She was a single mom at this time, and with no one there to take care if the small girl, she decided to take her with her to the hospital.

The hospital was a very big building right in the middle of New York. It was about 10 stories hight, with several different areas for different people. They had a special section for children, for chirurgical cases, a section for people with cancer, a section for people who were about to die and want to spend their last day in a nice surrounding , and lastly, they also had a section for injured Hybrids.

Since Hybrids were half animal, half human, you couldn’t just give them to the veterinarian. This was the reason that the politicians decided that every hospital had to create a small section for Hybrids. Always isolated from the rest of the population, because some citizens were still afraid of the new creatures, and they insisted on locking them up for safety reasons.

The small, blonde haired girl had been strolling around the large building, while her mother was needed in the operation room. She hadn’t paid any attention to where she was going. Everything in that hospital had been so interesting for this small girl, she just wanted to pull in everything she saw.

As she had passed one of the patients room, she suddenly saw a movement in the corner of her eyes. She turned around. On the other side of the glass window, stood a small boy her age.

He was just standing there, staring back at the girl with wide eyes. He had shaggy brown hair that fell smoothly over his forehead, big dark eyes and was slightly taller than the girl.

But what fascinated her the most about this boy, was the pair of white ears sitting on the top of his head. They were small, covered by thick, fluffy white fur and looked absolute adorable.

She took a step closer to the boy, who was still staring at her, the same way she was staring at him.

His ear twitched slightly to different sides, as if he was trying to hear or sense ever noise coming from around him. Behind the boy, Hope saw something waving through the air. She gasped slightly, when she recognized it to be a white, fluffy tail swinging slightly through the air.

The girl had heard stories from her friends in school, that Hybrids are dangerous. They said that they would attack people if one wouldn’t be careful. They said that Hybrids don’t have control over their animal side. They said Hybrids would turn into beasts as soon you were alone with them. But this boy didn’t look scary at all. He rather looked pretty innocent and… somehow scared.

She was fascinated by this boy. She wanted to get to know him so badly all the sudden.

The girl lifted her hand, that had limply hung by her thigh. She took a step closer and carefully laid her hand on the cold, glassy window. The boy stared at her hand. His ears had stopped twisting around, and were instead standing high in the air, his eyes were wide open.

He looked down at his hands, and was about to lift it as well, when suddenly a nurse came up behind the small girl.

“What are you doing there?” She almost screamed, as she grabbed the girl by her shoulders, pulling her away from the window. “You can’t just stroll around in this section. It’s dangerous.”

The woman was pulling the girl behind her, further and further away from the boy. When Hope turned around one last time, her heart broke. The boy’s ears were flatly pressed against his head, while he fluffy tail was tightly wrapped around his leg. His eyes showed nothing but sadness.

In this moment, the girl new that this boy was threatened wrong. Why would it be dangerous for her to be with him. She just couldn’t believe someone as cute as this boys would be able to hurt someone. He was just a child.

Hope shook her head at this memory. She was still wondering what his name was, what kind of Hybrid this little boy was and why he was in the hospital. She wondered what happened to him after she was pulled away, and if he was doing fine right now. Maybe he was thinking about the moment with the 9 year old human girl too sometimes. Maybe he –

A sound ripped her out of her thoughts. She flinched heavily but stopped in her tracks, not sure if her brain had tricked her. She turned around to both side, looking for something that could have caused such a noise. But there was nothing.

Confused, she started walking again. She was clearly overworking herself, if she was already hearing strange noises. Luckily, her apartment was just around the corner. Just one more minute. As she kept walking, she slung her arms tightly around her waist. The air of the night was suddenly much colder that a few minutes before, and with just a thin cardigan to cover her, she felt slightly cold.

Crack. Crash.

The girl shrugged when a crashing sound rang through her ears. This was obviously not an imagination from her brain. That noise came from the dark alley, that she was just about to pass. Immediately, she took a small step backwards.

If someone was hiding in there, waiting for the right moment to come out and hurt her, there would be nothing she could defend herself with. A shiver ran down her spine. She should take her feet and ran away from that scary, dark alley like her mother had always told her, but somehow she couldn’t. Something was pulling her towards that dark passage.

She gulped loudly, but decided to take the risk.

“H – Hello?” She carefully called into the darkness, hoping to not get an answer, so she could just keep walking home. But if someone was hurt in there, she had to help him or her.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She called again when she didn’t received an answer.

She carefully took another step forward, trying to make something out in the darkness. Further down the alley, she saw the faint outline of some trash dumpsters standing around, surrounded by many trash bags.

She let out a breath of relief. No one was in there. It was probably just a cat jumping onto one of the dumpsters, which caused that noise. She turned around, and started walking again, when suddenly she heard another, clearer noise.

“mmmhhh…”

This time she was sure that it was a person causing that noise. With shaking legs, Hope decided to walk a little further into the alley. If someone was lying there hurt, he probably couldn’t answer her calls. And if someone was waiting there for her…..she didn’t want to think about it further.

She took baby steps into the dark alley, still careful if someone was hiding there. When she was about 5m inside the dark passage, she was completely surrounded by darkness. She couldn’t make out a single outline of something, not even of the dumpsters.

With shaking hands and no other idea left, she grabbed for her phone inside her pocket. She pulled it out and clicked on the small flashlight symbol.

With the small source of light, she tried to make something out.

About 3 meters in front of her, she saw a red, brick stone wall climbing up into the air. A dead end.

She aimed the light into the right corner, where she saw nothing but trash bags and dust laying messily around. Some of them were ripped open by cats, giving away a heavy and disgusting stank. She wrinkled her nose. People were so wasteful these days…

She aimed the light into the other corner, where the trash dumpsters were placed. It was tight and trashed there as well. No chance someone could hide here. It was probably just the cat theory or she really got paranoid. She shook her head and was about to leave again, when something caught her eyes.

Between the wall and the last dumpster was a small crack left, a crack with bare feet sticking out. The girl tried to hold back a scream. She only saw that pair of bare feet. Nothing more. Would there be a body to those feet? If yes, which body, and if no….

“H – Hello?” She whispered/yelled again. “Who are you?”

When she aimed her light into the direction of the feet, they were pulled away with a sudden movement, now hidden by the dumpster. The girl took a deep breath, as she forced herself to take another step forward. She aimed the light once again in the direction of the crack. She saw those feet again, and this time even more. She could make out a pair of legs connected to the pair of feet, along with two arms, that were tightly wrapped around the legs.

She could tell that this someone was a boy, because his hands and feet looked much bigger than hers. Slowly, Hope bent her knees so she was on the level of his sitting body. He obviously was scared, and her standing above him, flashing him with her flash lights wouldn’t probably help him to feel less scared.

When she sat on her knees, she lifted the light again, letting it rose up his body. His feet and calves were bare, as well as his arms. Everywhere on his pale skin, she could make out smaller bruises and scratches. His feet and fingers were ripped open and bloody, and his arms and legs were almost as thin as hers.

But she was even more shocked when the light hit his face. The biggest pair of brown eyes she had ever seen were staring back at her, filled with nothing but pure fear. His plump cheeks were covered with dirt, bruises and wet stains of tears. His lips were bloody and crusty, also covered in dirt and dust. His dark, shaggy hair was covering his forehead, and on the top of his had sat a dark pair of large floppy ears.

The boy quickly seemed to snap out of his shock stare, when he realised the girl staring at him, not saying anything. He tried to push himself further backwards towards the wall. The arms around his bent knees tightened, as he let out a small whimper. His floppy ear moved forward to cover his eyes from her gaze.

It was obvious that this boy was a bunny Hybrid ,but that didn’t change the fact that Hope was shocked from the boy‘s appearance. He clearly needed help.

„Hey....boy.“ She carefully whispered into his direction, not wanting to scare him more away by a loud voice.

But despite her effort to not sound too scary, the injured boy began to slightly shake stronger.

„Hey...don’t be scared. Please, I don‘t want to hurt you. I promise.“ She felt the tears swelling up under her eyes.

The poor boy must have been through hell and back, or else he wouldn’t be reacting like that. She was pretty sure that someone had caused those injures on his body. It was ridiculous to talk about a change of minds, when the truth was, that nothing had changed at all. Human race was still as ignorant and careless and addicted to control as they have been before.

The girl took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm and focused, or else the bunny Hybrid would feel her fear. After all, his senses were animal-like, and he had probably heard her heartbeat or smelled the sweet running down her neck.

A loud, deep noise caused a yelp leaving the girl‘s and the boy‘s mouth. The sky above them had darkened with heavy clouds, and the smell of rain slowly replaced the clear night air. She turned her attention from the sky, back towards the boy who was ,once again, shaking with fear.

Hope knew what she was going to do next would be a heavy invasion of his privacy, but it was the only way, that might would help him in this situation.

She slowly let the backpack sliding down her shoulder, careful to not make too much movements. When it laid down on the floor, she pulled down the zipper of her grey cardigan.

The zipping noise that her jacked had caused, must have made the Hybrid curious, because almost unnoticeably, he lifted his right ear that was still covering his eyes. Through the small gap, he carefully peeked at the girl in front of him, watching as she pulled off the jacket, leaving her in just a thin, blue shirt.

A whimper left is mouth, ear covering his eye again, as the girl crawled closer into his direction, stopping just a few inches away from the bunny Hybrid. She leaned her body forward and placed the soft piece of fabric over the boy’s trembling shoulders. She didn’t know if the trembling had increased because she came way too close to him, or because of the sudden coldness that filled the alley way.

„No...p – please...no.“ The boy tried to pull away weakly, as his shoulders were met with the soft fabric of the jacket.

His was raspy and cracked a few times as he spoke.

„Please, don’t be afraid of me.“ The girl tried again to win a small amount of the boy’s trust, so he would at least look at her. „I am not going to hurt you. See, the jacket is warm, isn’t it?“

The boy didn’t answer. He just kept sitting on the ground, with his arm around his knees and his eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the clouds had started to let go their watery content, and small wet drops fell from the ground.

„Please, you need to come with me. It’s not safe out here at night, and a thunderstorm is raising up.“ Her voice was almost begging for him to trust her. She didn’t want to leave him here alone, injured and all by himself. „My apartment is warm, and I have food and something to drink for you. Please, trust me.“

The boy didn’t move an inch. He curled himself further together, hiding away from her. It was more than obvious that he was scared, and slowly she was losing hope that he would come with her. Plus, she couldn’t force him either.

She sighed and slowly stood up from her kneeling position.

„I will be back.“ She simply said to the boy, as she turned around to leave the alley.

Thanks god her apartment was just one minute around the corner. If he didn’t want to come with her, she would at least bring him a warm blanket for the night and something warm for his stomach. He must be freezing so much with just a pair of shorts covering his slim body.

She was about to start walking, when she heard him whimpering behind her again. The Hybrid had removed both of his ears from his eyes, which were now staring at her intensely. As if they were begging her not to leave the alley. She kneeled back down onto his height.

„You don’t want me to leave, do you?“ It was more a question to herself, but to her surprise the boy nodded almost unnoticeable. His eyes were opened wide and glassy, as his lips began to tremble slightly.

Meanwhile in his head, he was battling with himself. He was injured and cold, and this girl promised him a warm place to spend the night. She had a really soft and calming voice, that he would listen to all night of he had the chance.

But then, she wanted to leave him. Not that he was not used to that, but no one ever had talked to him in such a calming voice. For a short moment, he really believed that everything was going to be okay again.

„My apartment is just around the corner.“ The tone of her sweet voice rang through his ears again. „I won’t force you to come with me, but you are welcome to spend the night there, if you like.“

„Home, Sweet Home.“ The girl joked as she pushed open the white door leading into her apartment.

When the boy behind her didn’t show any reaction but staring at her, she eventually noticed that her joke wasn’t appropriate referring to the situation they were in. A shade of red began to spread over her cheeks, and she quickly stepped inside.

The boy meanwhile hesitate to step inside. He shoved his bare feet back and forth over the cold marbled tiles of the hallway, while his fingers fiddled the hem girl‘s jacket. His eyes were fixed on the ground.

„You can come inside, you know?“ She said with a soft voice, as she held the door open for the Hybrid boy.

When the boy took the first step inside, he immediately was surround by the most comfortable warmth he had ever felt before. Slowly, it flowed under his skin, filling every last corner of his body.

His feet didn’t touch some cold marble anymore. Instead, the wooden piles felt soft and also warm under his bare feet. He didn’t knew that the floor could feel this soft.

But the most prominent thing hitting him, was the smell filling his nose. The apartment smelled like....the girl.

The scent of a living being was something very special. The smell wasn’t something you could compare to the smell of vanilla or green apple or the smell of sweat. It was more like a kind of an aura that surrounded a human or Hybrid. An individual feature, that most human aren’t aware of, but yet, everyone has his own scent.

“Ehm…” The girl in front of him cleared her throat, and the Hybrid could smell how uncomfortable she felt.

Scared of being punished, he took a small step backwards, pressing his ears closer to his head. This gesture wasn’t unnoticed by the small girl. She took a big step back as well, carefully not to make her movements to jerky.

“I am sorry.” She quickly rambled. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just – I just don’t know what to say. I – Oh my god, you must feel so cold. I will get you some clothes. Just wait here.”

The boy watched her slim form disappear behind a door down the hallway. A few seconds later, she came back with a pile of fabric in her arms. He wondered what she wanted to do with them.

“I am sorry, but I don’t have any male clothes.” She said, as she dropped the pile onto the grey sofa, which stood in the corner of the living room. “But – but this are my largest clothes. Maybe they will fit you?”

The boy was still standing by the door, looking with wide eyes around the room, before their gazes met. He wasn’t looking in the clothes that were sprawled out for him on the sofa. Instead, he kept looking at the girl, but not as if he was studying the girl’s features, more like he was waiting for a comment.

Unsure what to do, Hope stepped a few inches away from the couch, wanting to give him more space.

“You can try them on. Just – just choose the ones you like.” She almost whispered, as she pointed her finger onto the clothes.

Though the boy nodded, his head dropped down. His hands were slightly shaking, as he made small baby steps towards the sofa. Carefully, he lifted his hand up towards his shoulder and pulled off the grey cardigan she had given him earlier. He placed it carefully onto the sofa, looking up at the girl, as if he was waiting for a permission to keep going.

It took Hope everything to not stare at the bruises and scratches that were covering his upper body. Trying not to break down in tears, she forced out a smile and nodded, showing him that it was okay to keep going.

He then he did something she hadn’t expected. Without showing any hesitation or shame, he grabbed the hem of his dirty shorts and pulled them down.

“Oh – ehm – okay. You want to change here.” She quickly turned around, not wanting to invade his privacy even more. But by the way he didn’t show any hint of hesitation, she could guess that he was not used to get any private space. “Okay keep changing, I will just go to the kitchen and make something quick to eat.”

With her head as red as a tomato, she made her way over to the kitchen. Luckily, the kitchen was connected with the living room by small hatch, so he would see her and she could watch him.

Her hands were trembling with anger. She didn’t want to think about what the poor boy had been through. She didn’t want to think about how many times he had been humiliated or showed off, just to pleasure someone’s evil mind.

In this moment, she made a promise to herself. She would fight for this boy and any other Hybrid out there. She would show him all the love and affection she carried in her heart, just to prove him that he is worth living.

But this incident wouldn’t be the last one at this day. When she was done warming up the soup from the night before, she carried the pot over to the table, that was already set. Over the whole time, the boy had watched her carefully, and every time their eyes met, he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, as if he didn’t want to pull any attention onto him.

“Come one, dinner is ready.” She said, as she carefully sat down at the table. “You need something warm in your stomach.”

The boy nodded quickly, before he slowly walked towards the table. As he was just a few inches away from her, he bent his knees and kneeled down onto the floor next to her, then he folded his hands in his lap and sunk his head down.

“I know it isn’t much, but….What are you doing?” The girl asked confused, as she watched the boy.

Scared that he might had done something wrong, he dared to look up at the girl. To his surprise, she didn’t look mad or angry at all. Her big brown eyes were wide open and her mouth was slightly parted.

“I am sorry.” The boy whispered with his raspy voice, as he closed his eyes. “I am sorry.”

“You – you don’t have to be sorry for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The girl whispered back with a shaking voice.

Seeing the boy so broken and scared in front of her, made her heart break. A big tear slipped out of her left eye, dropping onto her leggings. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she looked at the boy. She didn’t want to make him feel more insecure than he already was, so she whipped the tear away with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I am sorry. I am a little bit emotional.” She said, still drying her stained cheeks. “You don’t need to sit on the ground, you know? Please, take a seat on the chair.”

The Hybrid looked up from his kneeling position. He didn’t know whether the small girl was serious about him being allowed to sit on the chair. At the table. With a human.

He gulped. Should he take the risk and actually take a seat? What if she tricked him? What if she would punish him for sitting at the table?

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground. The girl was still smiling at him, as he pulled the chair backwards. He sat down and immediately folded his hands together in his lap, like he was supposed to do.

He watched as the girl took the plate that stood in front of him, putting some ladles of soup onto it. He felt his mouth watering as the smell hit his nose. He wanted to take a taste so badly, but he would have to control himself, not wating to make a wrong move.

“You don’t have to wait for anything. You can just eat, if you like.” Once again she showed him this gentle smile, before she lifted her spoon and began to eat her own plate.

Carefully, he lifted his own spoon towards his mouth. The soup tasted amazing and every nerve on his tongue seemed to explode because of all the different and new flavours.

He took another spoon, and another one, and another one, not caring anymore if he was doing something wrong. This was his first warm meal in days, and his first ‘human meal’ he had ever eaten. His hunger took control over him.

“You seem to like it.” The girl chuckle as she watched the boy shoving one spoon after another into his mouth.

The boy’s head shot up, nodding quickly. He shoved the last spoon full of soup into his mouth, leaving back an empty plate one the table. As he realized that he had eaten all the soup, a small shade of red spread over his cheeks, while his ears pressed themself further onto his head. Almost sad, he laid the piece of metal next to the empty plate.

“You can have another plate, if you like.” She said and his head shot up, nodding quickly once again.

They boy shoved soup after soup into his mouth, as if this was his last meal he would ever get to eat. But Hope didn’t mind. She watched him closely.

He was so absorbed in eating his dinner. His cheeks, that were so pale out in the alley, had now a slight shade of red spreading over them. His eyes didn’t show fear anymore, instead they were held a small sparkle every time he saw her refilling his empty plates. And his ear weren’t pressed against his head anymore, but they would sometimes go up and down while he was eating.

All in all, he looked absolute adorable.

“I – I never introduced myself.” The girl suddenly realized. “My name is Hope. I live here in this apartment. You don’t have to tell me your name or what happened to you, if you don’t want to. I just want you to know, that in this house, you are safe. No one is going to hurt you or force you to do anything here, and you are more than welcome to stay as long as you like.”

The boy’s movements slowed down a little bit, but he didn’t turned his attention off of his meal. He kept eating for another 5 minutes of silent, before he laid his spoon down. He folded his hands again in his lap and suddenly mumbled something under his breath.

“I am sorry, but I didn’t understand what you said.” She said softly, as his big brown eyes stared into hers.

“My name…Jungkook.”

[prolouge ||| chapter 2]

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fuckthesworld · 4 years

Text

FREEDOM TO DESIRE

CEO MITCH RAPP AU

MITCH RAPP x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and unprotected sex!

Rapp Corporation was the leading marketing firm in the world. Companies like Disney, Sony and Southwest paid millions of dollars to be associated with it. It represented actors, athletes, business moguls and small businesses. While it was in high demand it was also reasonable - sponsoring schools and nonprofit organizations around the world.

The single person driving the reigns to the crazy international kingdom that resided in London was Mitch Rapp . That’s right. He was part of a decade of strong, successful businessmen.

And he was your boss.

You had literally stumbled into the job of personal assistant. Literally. You were walking out of a coffee shop, resumes in hand when you ran into his large, hard frame. You landed on your ass and when you were able to recover, you were looking into the deepest chocolate eyes you had ever seen. His bright white teeth clashed against his tan skin, his dark locks perfectly framing his face.

Then you remembered that you had spilled coffee on one of the most powerful, young bachelors in the world.

You had also spilled coffee all over your resume and you groaned in realization, the expensive fresh pages coated in thick lakes of coffee. He had helped you pick up the lost keys to your future, taking a second to read over your resume and offered you a job. He was on the way to meet someone about being his personal assistant and you did just get your masters in public relations. You could intern while still making money and if you showed promise he promised to promote you.

Sometimes life really does work out in your favor. Sit in that for five seconds then remember that your boss is one of the sexiest, most successful young CEO’s in the world.

Not only is he attractive but he has the work ethic of an ox. And it made working for him damn hard. Probably harder than managing the clients he had. He was constantly in meetings, constantly leaving early in the morning and late in the evening. Going to galas and charity events, charming new people. He opened up smaller chains in areas in the world stricken by poverty to try to help increase job opportunities. He volunteered at schools and hospitals. He spent his Thanksgiving and Christmas and any other holiday of giving providing food for those in need. Always. He’s always been like this.

Mitch wasn’t just a CEO. Wasn’t even human.

He was a goddamn saint sent from heaven to wreak havoc on earth.

It was on such an occasion that he had asked you to attend one of his events - a large gala celebrating 50 years of business with his father and grandfather. The whole legacy under one roof. You didn’t understand why you were asked to attend. As his assistant sure you had to manage the media and who visited him. But that had been hours ago. The night was now thriving off the rich and famous drunkenly dancing and teasing each other. Mitch never drank more than two glasses of anything at events like these so you didn’t have to babysit him. But you also wanted to go home if he didn’t need you and that he refused.

You watched him as he laughed along with two of his most trusted partners, Scott Mccall and Derek Hale as they sipped expensive champagne and spoke lowly among each other. Mitch was wearing a tailored blue suit, his white button up popping against a black tie. His slight beard had grown since he shaved it these past two days and was now a short beard and all you could think about was how it would feel between your legs.

You shook your head, returning your eyes to your blackberry. You had to get it together. Everyone teased you that he had a thing for you. He never had women assistants. Preferred men to ensure that things stayed professional. Never offered people jobs on the spot either.

There was just something about you they would tease.

Well he sure as hell wasn’t making a move so until he did it would have to stay a mystery.

“You’re still working for him.”

The soft voice takes you off guard and you jump a bit, breaking from your thoughts as your eyes fall on your assailant. Standing in a dark red gown, her pale skin contrasting with her perfectly coiffed dark hair is Katrina Mendes.

Ex-girlfriend of Mitch Rapp.

She takes a seat beside you, the soft smell of Chanel wafting off her skin as she continues.

“Didn’t think a fragile little thing like you would survive a man like him.”

You knew what she was doing. Her younger sister, Annika , had warned you about this months ago. When you had accidentally ran into her at a golf tournament with Mitch. She loved him still. Despite the fact that she married someone new, moved across the world, she still loved and wanted him. Didn’t want anyone else to claim him.

You were a threat. You were beautiful, intelligent. charming and apparently upon Scott’s teasing, he spoke about you a lot. Katrina hated you. And reminded you every time she saw you.

“Surprised you’re here. Thought you’d be back in America with your husband. Oh wait, he’s in Japan with his mistress of the month.”

It was no secret her husband cheated on her. She even laughed about it but deep down you knew it killed her inside. Killed her that she chose a man like that over a man like Mitch. It made you even empathize for her…until she opened her mouth and you were reminded that karma was real.

She narrows her eyes at you before deliberately taking the large flute of champagne in her hand and slowly tilting it on your dress. On your $3,000 dress you had charged on your credit card that you had planned on returning tomorrow. You had only bought the navy blue gown to try to impress Mitch, hoping he would be charmed by the way it looked on your body.

It hadn’t and now, on top of rejection, she had ruined it and put you $3,000 in the hole.

“Have fun returning your De la Rented dress.” she smirks at you as you stand, the champagne trailing down the front of the long gown. You try to bite back tears, try not to bring too much attention to yourself as you pat at he gown down with a napkin before looking at her.

“I really hope you’re happy making other people’s life miserable Katrina. Because from what I hear, you used to be an awesome person and now, now you’re just a lonely bitch.”

You don’t notice the crowd of people who have been crowding around, watching the small scene unfold. Don’t see Mitch head toward you as you make your way down to the hallway to the family restroom. You don’t realize the tears that have been falling down your cheeks until you feel him grab your arm, turning you gently toward him.

“Y/N…” your name sounds different on his tongue and the way he’s looking at you has you sobbing harder. You try to push him away as he draws you to him, his large sculpted arms surrounding you as he whispers,

“Just let it all out.”

You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve wasted $3,000 on a dress that had made little impact in your life. Maybe its because you’ve been up since 4:30 because of him, trying to make his night perfect. You missed having a social life. Missed your mom and dad and siblings. Missed your small loft in London.

Missed all of this because of him and he didn’t even give a damn.

The thought drives your sobs deeper and his grip tightens around you as you cry harder, his large hands rubbing your back. His mouth hushes you and he rocks you before you start to calm down, your sobs tampering off and you pull away, shaking your head. You want to apologize for your unprofessionalism and you also wanted to tell him he could take his assistant job and fuck off but then his left hand is hooking under your chin as he tilts your head up to you.

“I can pay for your dress. I’m sorry she ruined it. But holy hell Y/N what did you expect when you wore something like this?”

His right hand that has never left your body tampers down your back as he pulls you closer to him.

“You’ve been driving everybody mad wearing this,” he eyes are shifting now, darkening around the pupils as he licks his lips. “It should be a condemned sin.”

His voice has dropped an octave and the deep bass draws a shiver up your spine. You give your lip a light bite and he gives a short groan, the pad of his thumb brushing over the exposed skin. His hand tightens around your waist as he whispers,

“You should be a condemned sin.”

You’re looking up at him confused, trying to register what he was saying. He watches you back, trying to get a read on you before he straightens, pulling from you.

“I hope you’re feeling better.” he croaks, backing away as he takes you in one last time before he turns on his heel. You stop him, your hand shooting for his arm. You walk around him, his hair covering his pinched eyes as you whisper,

“What do you mean by that Mitch?”

He doesn’t look at you as he manages out,

“I’ve drank too much. I shouldn’t…” he looks at you and groans. “You just, I should have asked you out and not have offered you a job.”

The words takes you off guard as he takes a deep sigh.

“You’re so goddamn sexy and smart and I felt terrible ruining your resumes,” he was referencing your encounter months ago. “That offering you a job was the best I could do. I thought you’d get burnt out and quit and then I could ask you out but you’re so damn good. So damn good at everything you do so I’ve been stuck pretending I don’t care when all I want is you.”

Your dumbstruck as he looks at you and groans, shrugging out of your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We can leave, if you want.”

He’s looking past you and you’re trying to process it all.

He really did like you.

You grab his neck, drawing him down to you, your lips pressing against his. It catches him off guard for only a second before he’s registering your actions, his hands grabbing your hips as he pushes you flush against a wall. His kisses are needy and desperate as his tongue teases your mouth open and you are consumed by him. Your hands move to his hair, his beautiful dark tresses getting tangled in your delicate fingers as he moans in your mouth, pushing his hips into your naval.

You moan feeling his erection brush against you and he pulls away, his eyes frenzied with lust.

“Not here.” his voice is hoarse and deep as he grabs you and basically drags you into the family restroom you were seeking out earlier. He shuts the door, locking it before grabbing you and slamming you against the door. He lifts you, your long gown getting lost around him as your legs hooks around his waist and his mouth is on your collarbone, sucking on the skin.

“You are so damn gorgeous,” he mumbles along your skin, his mouth nipping at your neck. “Do you know that? Do you know that you’ve been driving me fucking insane in this dress” his hands trail up your gown, his hot fingers clashing with your cool thighs and his mouth has found yours. “Drove me insane the moment I picked you up and you were wearing this.” His hands ghost over your center and you give a small yelp, as he pulls back to look you in the eye.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” he bites his lips as he glides his fingers up your wet folds and you shiver as you stumble out,

“I always run out of clean underwear and you came so early to pick me up I couldn’t go and buy a pair.”

His hands slowly traces up and down your pussy and he watches your face twist in pleasure.

“How many times have you worked with me without any panties on?”

“Honestly?” you bite down on your lip as his thumb slowly starts to tease against your clit and your hips rock against his finger. “Like most of the time. You don’t give me enough time to do my laundry.”

Your words are soft, barely coming in a whisper and he growls, sticking a finger into you as he begins his slow assault into your tight walls.

“You are so fucking wet,” he whispers as he looks at you, a wicked grin on his face. “Are you always this wet for me princess?”

You give a weak nod as he inserts another finger and you buck against him, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I thought I smelled you the other week when we were at dinner.” You knew what he was referencing. He had taken you out for dinner after a long day at the office at a trendy sushi spot. He had been talking to you as his nimble fingers gracefully picked up one sushi after the other, the raw fish placed carefully in his mouth. You don’t know why it turned you on but it did. You wanted to know what those fingers would feel like in you, his mouth over yours.

Now you knew.

“Did I smell you princess?” he whispers a grin gracing his face and you give another weak nod and he growls, inserting a third finger in you. You arch your back against him, hands stuck in his hair as his mouth attacks your neck again.

“Tell me what had you so turned on so much?”

You give a weak mewl in silence and he pulls his fingers out, causing you to whine. He looks up at you with hooded eyes shaking his head.

“You have to use your words princess.”

“I was thinking about you finger fucking me.” you manage out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush over. He smiles as he sticks his fingers back in you, watching your face contort in pleasure again. His fingers curls up and hits you in that sweet spot and you feel your body tensing, clawing for release.

“Were you?”

You give a quick nod and he chuckles, his mouth getting close to your ear. His fingers are merciless know, pumping into you faster as his thumb brushes against your clit and you can feel that tension in your stomach build up.

“Wanna hear a secret princess?” he whispers against the shell of your ear and you hum, your body starting to give in to the pleasure he was delighting you to. “I’ve jacked off to you every night since I’ve met you, cumming all over my body from the thought of my dick being filled to the rim in you.”

That was all you needed. Between his fingers and the image of him jacking off to you your screaming his name, your fingers tangled in his hair as your walls flutter around his fingers. He groans, coaxing you through your climax as he watches you before he pulls from you, inserting all three of his fingers in his mouth. He gives a low moan as he sucks your essence off and pulls his fingers out with a pop before your leaning into him for a kiss.

He shifts, carrying you to the bathroom counter and slamming placing you down. He yanks at his suit, pulling down his pants and boxers as his cock springs free.

“Tonight I’ll make love to you the way you deserve,” he promises as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I’ll have you begging my name by the time I’m done with you but right now I just need you.”

His cock is teasing your folds as you look up at him, your eyes darkening as you thrust your hips forward. He stops you, something dark flickering in his eyes.

“What do you want princess?” he whispers and you moan as your hands pull at his shoulders.

“I want you.”

“You want me to what?” a satisfied smirk sits on his face and you rub your folds against his twitching cock.

“Want you to fuck me with your big fucking cock.”

He groans as he slowly thrusts into you, grabbing your hands and intertwining them with yours as he raises them above your head. His head falls in the crook of your neck as he bottoms out in you, his hair tickling your shoulders and you both give a satisfied moan. You rock your hips against him, enjoying the way he fills you to the brim and he moans as he pulls from you, his hips rocking out of you before slamming back in.

“Goddamn you are tight..” he whispers as he lifts himself enough to look at you, then his mouth is hot on yours as his body claims you.

His hips snap into you, desperately chasing after your orgasm before he lifts your leg and you’re getting hit in that special spot that has you screaming out his name.

“That’s right princess. Want you to cum all over my big cock.” he whispers, his hips in a frenzy as he watches you unwind underneath him. His finger finds your clit and flicks the sensitive area and you’re screaming his name again, your body shaking as you find sweet release. His hips are sloppily slapping against your as your walls tighten around before there milking him his body shaking uncontrollably as your arms find your way around his body.

You wait a beat before saying,

“Soooo…I’m guessing I have to quit. This is the highest level of conflicted interest if I’ve ever known one.”

He chuckles, his face tucked in your shoulder before pulling away and kissing you.

“I don’t want you to quit.”

“Wouldn’t that be -”

“Unless you want to. You’re free to work in any of our departments. You’re way too good to be an assistant.” he’s rambling, something he does when he’s nervous and you chuckle, leaning up and kissing him. He relaxes as you pull away, his lips tugged between your teeth before you whisper.

“Let’s worry about it tomorrow. I should at least get a year under your belt before we talk about commitment.”

He chuckles, wiggling against you and there’s a soft knock on the door and you both freeze before you hear Scott’s voice.

“…….so uhhh, I don’t mean to interrupt you two but ummmm,” he clears his throat though you can hear the humour in his voice. “Your dad is looking for you Mitch. For a photo.”

Mitch groans and you laugh, giving a lock of his hair a tug.

“Give us a minute Scott. We need to….make ourselves decent.”

“Uh huh.” You know he’s smiling as he walks away and Mitch’s eyes are glinting at you mischievously.

“How long do you think he’s been standing out there hearing you scream out my name?”

“Mitch! That’s your best friend!” you say in mock surprise and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Scott’s always had a thing for you.” he nuzzles his face in your neck before muttering. “Besides I have another round in me.”

His shimmies his hips against yours and you gasp at his dick hardening in you.

You both make it out of the bathroom thirty minutes later.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp smut #mitch-tober #mitch month #american assassin #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o brien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien #mitch rapp imagine #mitchober

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stillness-in-green · 3 years

Text

Ahistorical, Absurd, and Unsustainable (Introduction and Part One)

An Examination of the Mass Arrest of the Paranormal Liberation Front

INTRODUCTION

The title states my premise here: the breezy way My Hero Academia presents and resolves the mass arrest of the Paranormal Liberation Front is ludicrous. If taken as presented and allowed to stand without being further addressed, it serves as a breaking point from which the series will be incredibly hard-pressed to recover. Why, you ask?

From a logistical standpoint, it strains credulity. From an ethical standpoint, it suggests deeply troubling problems with the state of Hero Society. From a thematic standpoint, it unravels whole portions of the narrative’s spine. I’ll be looking at each of these facets in turn to discuss the questions they raise which My Hero Academia has not yet seen fit to answer. Many in fandom don’t seem to be thinking about it too hard, so I’d like to lay out—in exhaustive detail—all the reasons I find this plot element so wildly out of touch with causal reality.

Please note that while they are discussed when relevant, this essay is not principally about the named characters in the League of Villains or the erstwhile high command of the Metahuman Liberation Army. The sorts of consequences Shigaraki Tomura or Re-Destro would and should be facing in a courtroom are orders of magnitude beyond what Random Liberation Warrior X would be, but it’s the mass numbers of Random Liberation Warrior Xs that this essay is most concerned with, as they are the ones most in danger of being swept under a rug and forgotten by the series in its current state.

Further, be advised that this essay in its full form is both very long (about 21K words excluding Sources and Further Reading) and will contain extensive discussion of real-life Japan—comparisons to historical events, minutiae of its legal and carceral systems, and general cultural views on criminality. This will include references to imprisonment, government oppression, and incidents of terrorism both real and in the context of My Hero Academia.

Being as it is about quite a recent event in the series, it will also contain heavy spoilers all the way up through the most recent chapter as of this writing, Chapter 310. It likewise contains spoilers for the spin-off series My Hero Academia: Vigilantes up through Chapter 95.

The essay will be posted in parts on tumblr and in full on AO3. For the tumblr posting, I will provide links to other tumblr posts as I reference them; however, as I would like this to actually show up in the tags, outside links containing my sources and further reading will be provided in a separate post following the conclusion of the essay.

Lastly, I spent an entire month writing this as a fan who is sympathetic to the villains in general and the MLA in particular. If your response to the very concept of this essay is anything to the tune of, “Who cares what happens to a bunch of disgusting quirk eugenicists?” know that you and I have radically different views on the MLA, and the role of the justice system in general. You are, of course, welcome to read the essay anyway, but, having said my piece about the MLA and their relationship with quirk supremacy elsewhere, I will not be engaging with arguments or gotchas on that subject here.

PART ONE: The Facts at Hand

Before we get too deep into things, let’s lay out the basic facts: how many people are actually involved in the arrest, as well as some comparisons to real-life events to contextualize that number and provide some referents for the issues the arrest raises.

Re-Destro gives the numbers of the Metahuman Liberation Army as 116,516. A lot of people go on to die in Deika, though we’re never given a solid count. The biggest batch we see killed in a single go are the press of sixty or so people Shigaraki decays, then the sixteen-ish Toga drops, though some of those might possibly have had quirks that allowed them to survive. Any number of people certainly died as well simply in the moments we didn’t see, and who even knows how many were caught in the radius of Shigaraki’s last attack.

Further, there may well have been a measure of organization bleed when the MLA became the PLF (though I imagine trying to leave was a very dangerous proposition, giving an additional reason to stick it out on top of the general cult-like mindset the MLA displays); likewise, I find it hard to believe that there wouldn’t have been some deaths at the Gunga Villa, be it from Gigantomachia’s departure, Geten cutting loose, or combatants—be they hero or comrade—overcompensating somewhat in the middle of a chaotic melee.

I suspect it’s overestimating the depletion, but for the purposes of simplicity, let us call it 115,000 remaining members at the time of the raid.[1]

We are told that, in all, 16,929 people were captured at the villa—just about 17,000. 132 escaped in the confusion; this is a fairly negligible number, save for the fact that it includes high-ranking advisors, but not Machia and those of the Front that were with him.

We are further told, and I quote, “Their bases scattered around the country were hit too, and the sympathizers rounded up.” Horikoshi did not provide any solid numbers for this,[2] but if we��re to assume that it is just the rest of the group (more on the logistics of that bit of spycraft later), “the sympathizers” would be 98,000 additional people.

However, 98,000 may be a significant underestimation. It’s based, after all, on a number Re-Destro cites to describe “warriors lying in wait, ready to rise to action.” This begs the question: is Re-Destro quoting the entire membership of the group, or only those who actually are ready to take action? In other words, does his number account for non-combatants? Is he counting young children? I tend to assume the MLA doesn't have a retirement age as such,[3] but if they do, does his number account for the elderly?

How many more people might be “sympathizers” to the PLF insomuch as they are e.g. the six-month-old infant daughter of an MLA couple? What about the ninety-year-old man in the retirement home whose only real act of war these days is tying up the phone line at City Hall to complain about repressive quirk use laws? How about the fired-up fifteen-year-old that was going to get their official code name next month, just in time to join the first wave of attacks? If he’s being literal in his usage of “warrior,” the actual count of the MLA could easily be twice as high as the number he actually gives.

But okay, maybe Re-Destro’s number does include absolutely everyone. Maybe he’s just being rhetorical—maybe, in his mind, even the six-month-old is waiting to rise to action; she’s just going to have to wait a bit longer than the rest, is all. For simplicity’s sake, let’s stick with the numbers we have: a low-end of 17,000, a high-end of 115,000, captured not merely in a single day, but allegedly in the span of a few hours.

I’m sure I don’t need to stress that that is a lot of people. But how many people is it, practically speaking? Is there a precedent? Anything we can look to for guidance on how this kind of thing would go in real life?

Comparative Analogues

The PLF is tricky to categorize for the purposes of real-life comparison, especially compared to how they’re treated in-universe. In some lights, they resemble a protest movement; in others, a terrorist group. Just looking at the way the government reacts to them—and certainly in terms of their combat capabilities—they might as well be an all-out insurrectionist uprising! Below, I’ll examine a handful of historical incidents that cover that spectrum; they will continue to provide useful reference points throughout the rest of this essay.

The March 15 Incident

In the first half of the 20th century, Japan saw a huge uptick in socialist and communist activity, much to the general dismay of the ruling powers. In response, they passed a series of laws commonly referred to as the Peace Preservation Laws, designed to better enable authorities to suppress political dissent and freedom of speech, particularly that of leftists and labor movements.

The Japanese Communist Party was founded in 1922, but outlawed in 1925. This merely drove members underground, however, from which position they pointed supporters towards the numerous other parties with more legally tolerated leftist policies that had cropped up in the wake of the JCP’s dissolution. Following the February 1928 General Election (the first in Japan held with universal male suffrage), those parties supported by the JCP saw enormous gains in representation in Japan’s National Diet. Alarmed, the Prime Minister declared the mass arrest of known communists and suspected communist sympathizers. Accordingly, on March 15, 1,600 people were arrested throughout Japan.

Over the course of twenty years, some 70,000 people would be arrested under the auspices of the Peace Preservation Laws, the majority of them in 1925 through 1936. The laws would eventually be repealed by American occupation forces after WWII, and the JCP allowed to operate openly once again.

The Rice Riots

In 1918, an inflation spiral had driven the price of rice out of control, exacerbating economic insecurity and hardship. Farmers were being paid a pittance of the market value of their crop by rice buyers and government agents, while urban consumers were being charged an exorbitant price for the staple food, as well as a great many other consumer goods, and their own rents. In response, a series of riots ripped across Japan in late July through September. Beginning with peaceful protesting in a small fishing town in Toyama Prefecture, the unrest escalated to involve riots, strikes, looting, even bombing in demonstrations that reached major cities like Tokyo and Osaka. The scope was and remains unprecedented in modern Japanese history, seeing some 25,000 people arrested.

The Sarin Gas Attacks

If you’ve heard of any of them, it’s probably this one. On March 20, 1995, members of the cult Aum Shinrikyo released sarin gas on five different Tokyo Metro trains in the middle of morning rush hour. Thirteen people were killed and over 5500 injured, about a fifth of them moderately to severely so. If not for small errors in the production of the gas and the rudimentary distribution method thereof, loss of life might easily have been catastrophically higher.

Aum Shinrikyo was a doomsday cult, but the motives for that particular attack were much baser than bringing about the Apocalypse: at the time, the organization was under police investigation for its involvement in the kidnapping of a public official. Its leader, Asahara Shoukou, hoped that the attack would divert police’s attention from a planned raid.

It did not do so; police executed raids on numerous of the cult’s compounds, arresting many of its senior members both immediately and over the course of the following months as the investigation unfolded. In all, over 200 members were arrested of an organization that counted its membership prior to the attack as numbering 11,000 people in Japan.[4]

The February 26 Incident

There have been a significant number of uprisings and violent protests in Japan’s modern history; when looking for a representative example, I focused my attention on the military coups of the 1930s and 40s, largely because they took place in what was closest to the modern Japanese legal context.[5] Of that subset, I chose the February 26 Incident for the severity of the government response. The others disintegrated before they could be properly carried out or were met with sympathy for the dissidents despite the obvious illegality of their actions. The February 26 Incident, however, was when they finally became too troublesome to dismiss, and the Emperor himself ran out of patience.

In this period, the Japanese military had become drastically factionalized into two main groups—an ultra-nationalist group, largely powered by a group of young officers, which supported the Emperor and wanted to purge Japan of Western influences, and a more moderate group mainly defined by their opposition to the above faction.[6] Occurring in 1936, the February 26 Incident involved the young officers, believing that they had tacit approval from higher-ranked officers of their own faction, launching assassination attempts against the nationalists’ most prominent enemies in the government (six assorted Ministers and former Ministers in the Emperor’s Privy Council and the Diet) and a bid to seize control of the administrative center of the capital and the Imperial Palace, after which they planned to demand the dismissal of more officers and the selection of a new Cabinet.

The seven ringleaders had convinced eighteen other officers to lend their forces to the attempted coup, a total of around 1,500 men, calling themselves the Righteous Army. Several of their assassination attempts failed, however, and while they succeeded at taking the Prime Minister’s residence and the Ministry of War, they did not manage to secure the Palace. The outraged Cabinet demanded the Emperor take a hard line with the rebels, and by the 29th, the Righteous Army was surrounded by 20,000 government troops and 22 tanks. In this hopeless situation, the officers dismissed their troops; two committed suicide (a third attempted it unsuccessfully) and the remainder were arrested by military police.

International Examples

For obvious reasons, I prefer to limit my examples to events that happened in Japan. However, I will also be briefly referring to a few international incidents of mass arrest, taking place in India, the U.S., and Egypt, respectively.

In the following parts, I'll use these facts and comparative analogues to take a closer look at what readers were told became of the Paranormal Liberation Front.

Part Two

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

Footnotes (Part One)—

[1] Over three months’ time, they likely gained some new blood also, simply in the course of their usual recruitment tactics. You don’t get an underground organization that size by sitting back and waiting for people to come to you, after all. I don’t know a practical way to calculate that, though, so just bear it in mind for when I talk about new members later.

[2] Possibly because he was aware that 17,000 people captured in one fell swoop was difficult enough to swallow without adding on more than five times that number.

[3] We do, after all, see some very aged people fighting in the streets of Deika.

[4] They were considerably more international than you may have heard. They had 50,000 members at the time, some 30,000 of them based in Russia.

[5] The Meiji Constitution was ratified in 1889; universal suffrage (for men) was granted in 1925. The modern constitution was enacted in 1947.

[6] More moderate, mind, in the context of the Imperial Japanese military. Neither of these factions had any time whatsoever for leftist movements, hence all those suppressive crackdowns.

#bnha analysis #bnha meta #paranormal liberation front #meta liberation army #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha spoilers #my writing #plf arrests #stillness has salt

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allaboutthebooz · 3 years

Text

Still Learning Pt. Three

Summary: After having everything stolen from her, the reader meets Bucky and they form a relationship, that works for the both of them. She needs money and he needs the company. There are rules that need to be followed. What will happen when the rules are broken?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, drinking

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. Just when I find a groove, it gets knocked off course. But it's finally here and I hope you all enjoy.

After getting your drinks, Bucky decides to get a little invasive. “So, how come you are here by yourself?”

Y/N lets out a small laugh. “I’m not. My friends decided they would rather dance than sit with me while I wallow.” She juts a thumb behind her, point to the small dance floor. Bucky looks past her to see a few people dancing. Most were couples dancing a little too inappropriately, but there were two women dancing together, and he assumes they’re Y/N’s friends.

Turning his gaze back to his company, he gives her a quick look over. Her jean jacket covering her upper body, but he notices her dress. The soft silk material, covered in a combination of blue, red, and orange, clinging to what curves her can see. Her hair down, but half was pulled back into a braid of some sort.

He looks at her face. Not noticing the look behind her eyes, until now. He should have been able to tell that she wasn’t happy. He’d seen the same look on his face, often when he’d look in the mirror. The mask she wore, similar to his.

“Wallow?” He asks.

She nods. “Yeah, I haven’t had the best luck lately.”

“Want to tell me about it? Maybe talking to a stranger will help.”

She shakes her head and huffs. “I doubt it. I’m in deep shit and have no clue what will happen.”

“Maybe I can help?”

She looks at Bucky, silent. He can see her debating what to say.

You’re not sure how long you spent staring at the man next to you. The man who wanted to know what kind of trouble you were in, after only knowing his name for thirty minutes. Looking down at the glass in your hand, you bring it to your lips and take a long sip from it.

“Fuck it. Why not tell it to you. Not like you’ll be able to find me again.” Looking back at Bucky, you see his jaw clench just slightly.

“You never know.” Is all he says. His voice gruff.

You open your mouth to start your story, when you feel two bodies press close to you. Looking to your right, you see Lexie and Deanna standing there. Both focused on Bucky.

“You okay?” Dee asks, her mama bear side starting to show.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” You feel Lexie grab a strand of your hair at its end. “Sorry we’ve been ignoring you.”

“No, it’s alright. I was actually thinking of heading home. I’m pretty tired.”

Both girls groan. “You’re supposed to be having fun.” Dee pushes.

You look over at Bucky, giving him a quick smile before turning back to your friends. “You know that’s impossible right now. I can’t focus on having fun when I’m about to lose my apartment. I’m gonna get home so I can get some sleep. I have to edit some photos and have them turned in tomorrow.”

Deanna opens her mouth to respond, but Lex puts a hand on her shoulder. “If that’s what you want to do, that’s fine. We know you have a lot going on right now. We just thought getting you out of the house would help.”

“And I appreciate it, but once everything if normal again, then I can start having fun.”

“Well, we can go. Let’s settle our tab.” Lexie says.

“No, you two stay. You’re actually enjoying yourselves. Don’t let me ruin your fun.”

“Are you sure?” Deanna asks. “We don’t mind.”

“Yeah, stay. I’ll get a cab.” You start to stand. Hugging the girls, they head back to the dance floor. You turn back to Bucky. “It was nice to meet you.”

You notice the panic slightly raise in his face. “Wait. I’ll go with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Back to my place? I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

“No, not there. Why don’t we just walk around for a bit. Maybe see if there are any diners open or something.” He suggests.

You find yourself staring at him again. Your eyes rake over him. His dark hair, his blue eyes. His leather jacket and Henley shirt clinging to his chest. His thick thighs clad in dark blue jeans. Were you going to let this man keep you company? Were you going to open up to him? You probably won’t see him again after tonight and he seems like a nice guy. There was something familiar about him and you weren’t sure that you were ready to say goodbye.

“Okay. But just for a little while I really should get home and edit those photos.”

Bucky smiles wide and follows you out of the bar.

“I know a place that’s open all night. They have great food.” You suggest.

“Lead the way.”

You move down the sidewalk, Bucky beside you with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“So, you’re a photographer?” He asks.

“I am. Mostly fashion right now.”

“That’s cool. Anything I might have seen?”

You laugh. “Not unless you read Vogue.”

“No, I can’t say that I have. I really haven’t had time to do a ton of reading. My work keeps me busy.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” You ask, looking him over.

He stares at you like you should know who he is and what he does. “Uh I guess you could say that I work with the military.”

“Doing what?”

“Linguistics.”

You make an impressed face. “Sounds interesting.

It’s Bucky’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, I guess it can be.”

You both walk in silence for a while. You can feel Bucky’s urge to finish your conversation that was interrupted.

“You’re still wondering why I wasn’t wanting to stay and have fun, aren’t you? I can feel your curiosity growing.” You smirk at him.

He gives you a shy smile. “Yeah, I am. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think I’m overstepping.”

You look up at the night sky. The stars barely visible beyond the city lights. Sighing you say, “A month ago, my ex-boyfriend stole every single penny I had to my name. He destroyed my credit. He opened a couple of credit cards in my name and a loan from a bank in my name and never paid them. He disappeared and I haven’t heard from him. The cops haven’t bothered to find him. So I have no money, except what little cash I managed to withdraw before it all happened.”

Bucky stops walking, making you stop too. “Are you shitting me?”

You laugh. “I wish I was.”

“Son of a bitch.” He says, before continuing his stride.”

“Yeah.” You both walk a bit further before you stop in front of a wall full of windows. “This is it.”

He opens the door, allowing you to step inside first as he follows.

After settling into a booth by the windows, you both spend the rest of the night talking. He asked a few more questions and you explained to him that you were pretty much out of a job and would soon lose your home if you didn’t make enough money to pay your rent.

Eventually, you convinced him to move onto a different subject. Before you knew it, the sun was starting to peak from behind the other buildings. When a ray of light blinds you, you squint and look out the window.

“Oh shit. We literally talked all night.”

“I guess we did. I’m sorry. I know you needed to get home.” Bucky apologizes.

“You know what? I’m not even upset. This was way more fun than sitting at my desk in an empty apartment that won’t be mine for long.”

You start to gather your things as Bucky lays a few bills on the table. You both step outside, pulling jackets on. You look at Bucky and wonder what to do next.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” You say.

“It doesn’t have to be. I’d like to see you again.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I’d like to see you again, but my life is such a mess right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I’d like to help you.”

“How can you do that? You got a ton of money laying around or something?”

“Or something. Why don’t we do this again tonight? I can explain everything then.”

“I don’t know, Bucky.”

“How about this? I’m going to come back here to have more of those delicious pancakes. You can join me and let me help you. I’ll let you decide. I’ll be here at 7. If you show, we’ll talk. If you don’t, I’ll leave you alone.”

He gently leans in and kisses your cheek.

“I hope I see you later.” He hails a cab and opens the door for you, closing it once you’re settled in the backseat and walking the opposite way down the sidewalk.

‘What the hell was that?’ You think.

The taxi dropped you off in front of your building. You hand the driver some cash, telling him to keep the change. The whole drive home, you kept thinking about what he meant by wanting to help you. Did he have a job for you? Did he want you to take some headshots for him? You didn’t know much about him, except that he worked with the military, and he didn’t seem like he was the model or actor type, so headshots were out of the question.

You walked up the stairs to your apartment still pondering why Bucky wanted to help you and how he planned to do it. You get to your floor and move down the hallway, your apartment at the very end with your door facing towards you. You’re almost in front of it when you notice an envelope taped to your door. You peel it off, curious, and stick your key in the door to unlock it.

Stepping through the entrance, you lay your purse on the counter in the kitchen, peel your jean jacket off, and then your shoes. Once you’re somewhat settled, you peel open the letter and pull the piece of paper out of its snug exterior.

‘Y/N,

I hoped you would be home when I came by. I didn't want to do this how it's been done, but I don't have a choice.

I know how tough things have been for you the last month and I've done everything to try and help. You've been a perfect resident. Always paid your rent on time. You've always been nice to everyone here. However, unless you pay your rent by the end of the week, I'm afraid that you will be forced to move out.

I've tried talking to Tom to get him to understand your situation and though he is sympathetic, he can't pay the mortgage for the building without your portion of the rent.

I'm sorry there's nothing more that I can do for you.

I would hate to see you go, but I do not have a choice.

Let me know as soon as you can, if you are able to pay your rent and we can work something out.

Again, I'm sorry.

David’

Sign you crumble the paper into a ball and let it drop onto the counter.

‘Perfect.’ You think. After having a great night, you should have known the bliss wouldn't last for long.

You wanted to cry, but suddenly felt too exhausted. You decide to get a few hours of sleep, before trying to work or do anything else.

Peeling your silky dress from your body as you move towards your bed, you unhook your bra, tossing it aside, and finally collapse onto your mattress. You barely pull the covers over your mostly naked torso before you fall asleep. Dreaming of the blue-eyed man you had just spend your evening with.

TAGS:

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Forevers- @jamielea81 @dnnwnchstr22 @also-fangirlinsweden

*If you would like to added to the tag list, please send me an ask. I am able to keep up with them better that way!

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #marvel #marvel series #marvel reader insert

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