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manjiroscum · 2 years

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COTTONTAIL

Character/s: Bonten!Manjiro Sano

Warnings: f!reader, explicit sex, mature language, hybrid au, established relationship, reader is a bunny hybrid, mentions of past kidnapping, reader is an airhead, tiny angst, cunnilingus, rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, heat cycles, unprotected sex, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

Note: commissioned by bby grey @meganemoon 💖🥺 thank you so much and hope u like it luv!

Synopsis: Mikey would do anything for his wife—even hightail out of an important meeting.

WC: 2.7k

Ginza Six, everyone's favorite mall—or so your old friends used to say for the heck of it whenever you guys passed the area after class just to seem relevant. Their snobbishness always irked you, but in a place where friendships were hard to come by, especially for hybrids, you never complained. Pretty little head too wrapped up in the thought that despite how mean they can be, they were still your friends. The building’s postmodern architecture gave off an aura of exclusivity that people will never miss, especially during the sunniest of days when the light hits the glass windows. The difference back then was you didn’t like how it was too lavish and expensive to shop there, the design reminding you of a sleek rubix cube. Finding the prices of the shops’ items to be ridiculous and quite hilarious at that time as a student. A bit envious of those who can afford it. You had no money to buy beautiful dresses that cost more than a month’s worth of groceries. Now? All you had to do was swipe on the trusty old credit card your beloved husband gifted you the first three months into the relationship two years ago. No more snobbish friends or bills to worry about. Time certainly flies fast, especially with Sano Manjiro as your lover.

To spoil his pretty baby was almost second to breathing for him. There’s nothing he can’t do.

Seemed like it was only yesterday when he freed you from a mountain of debts, whisking you away from those icky men who were illegally selling bunny hybrids in the underground city of Tokyo. It was a pity on their part when they decided to mess with the leader of Bonten in the matters of trade and scamming them, but certainly a win for you. Yet, marrying Sano Manjiro wasn’t part of your plans after being set free that involved a quiet life in the countryside after escaping such a stressful situation. Nor did you ever stop and think that maybe this was indeed fate working to reward you for going through tough times.

At the end of it all, you’re more than content with your husband and how he takes care of you.

Other than just a place to spend your free time whenever Manjiro was busy with Bonten, Ginza was the perfect place to just hang out. But unlike any other day, the number of people has significantly increased due to the new shop that opened days ago. Making a mental note not to go through the crowded areas, you almost skipped your way to the first store you wanted to check out. Perked up bunny ears slightly swaying as you went with the shopping bags on your arms that you’ve accumulated from thirty minutes spent going around. Sashaying your way into the Dior store, you politely smiled at the woman. Instantly recognizing you from the countless times you’ve visited, she was quick to assist you with a warm smile.

“Good day. What would it be today, Mrs. Sano?”

“I’ve seen pictures of a new set of leather collars that came in just this week.” Fishing out your phone from your purse, you then started to search for the screenshot you took before holding it up to the woman to see. Specifically pointing at the pink one that had a golden heart as a centerpiece. “Wanna surprise my husband since he likes these. I think it suits me, too. Don’tcha think so? Do you have it in stock?”

“Alright. Let me go and check, okay? In the meantime, feel free to sit down or have a look around.”

Left all by yourself again, you exhaled lightly and began to walk around the shop after setting down your shopping bags on one of the black cushioned seats. Eyes searching for something that might catch your attention as you waited for the sales associate to return. Eyeing a clutch, your gaze traveled from it to the streets outside where a mother and child were passing by. Huge cotton candy in the shape of a familiar cartoon character in the child’s hand, a smile on his face brighter than any of the ladies inside the same establishment as you. Contagious it was, as a smile of your own graced your features at them having a good time. Line of sight falling to the golden band on your ring finger, it slightly faltered then morphed into a pout.

Oh, Manjiro…

Quite dangerous it was for your husband to walk around in broad daylight and accompany you out. Not only were the police after his head, but numerous rivaling gangs wanted to jump on the leader of the most notorious criminal organization in Japan to make a name for themselves. Plus, he strongly implements that you and he should never be seen together in the public eye. And while there were times he brought you to restaurants, it was usually those who had connections with Bonten or you both went so close to midnight where regular citizens have gone home. Manjiro was always careful, calculating in every move in order to keep you safe. Trips to Ginza or other places wouldn’t be possible at all if he wasn’t. But as much as you were thankful, the forlorn feeling never stops seeping into your heart whenever you see couples out doing romantic stuff without care.

Would it be so selfish if you wished for the same thing even after being handed almost everything?

Whether it was the AC blowing directly on you or how the store was cold, you shivered and hugged yourself. Why the fuck is it so cold all of a sudden? You cursed at yourself for forgetting to bring one of your coats in case these things happen. Nevertheless, you quickly beamed at the sales associate now walking up to you with a grin on her face. Finally, once this is over, you could go out and seek the warmth of the sun.

“Mrs. Sano, the collar you wanted is available. Would you like to try it on first?”

Before you could even respond, another chill ran down your spine, prompting you to rub your hands together. What was even more frustrating was how your body temperature was slowly rising, a thick warm sensation blooming from your abdomen. This didn’t go unnoticed by the woman, who quickly tried to reach out and ask about your well-being. Your reaction was instant, stepping back to evade her touch in fear of aggravating the condition that has dawned upon you. Warm flesh, the pounding beat of your heart that is bound to get worse, and the slick dampening your aching pussy folds that would soon be embarrassingly obvious to anyone every time your thighs rubbed against each other. Not to mention, your ears flopping down at the realization, the skin gradually heating up.

Fuck! How could you forget about your heat?! How could you let such an important thing slip past your mind?

“M-Mrs. Sano? Are you okay?”

“Huh? U-uh, yeah!” A weak smile on your face, you then gestured at her to wrap the item. “I’ll take it, d-dear. That and another—what other color do you have? Red? Black? Well, w-whatever, just give me that and another one—doesn’t matter what, just please hurry up?” Seeing her nod and rush away after handing your credit card to her, you sighed. This wasn’t how you pictured your little shopping spree to go… How could you even forget about your upcoming heat?

Well, the telltale signs were already there… From the mood swings and the cravings.

A men’s cologne being tested was happening nearby, notes of what seemed to be spicy bergamot wafting towards you. Your hand shot up to cover your nose immediately at the enticing scent. Averting your gaze from where the sales associate disappeared, you weakly turned to the other way only to catch a familiar shade of hair paired with a different face. Heart banging on your ribcage at the images of your husband sprouting like daisies through concrete, you wished the traitorous mind filling your sight of him would halt in its silliness and leave you be. Wishful thinking never does anything and everywhere you turn, all you see are mimicking faces of Sano Manjiro that merely fueled your desire to have his cock inside your aching heat—now.

“Here you go, Mrs. S—”

“Thank you, bye!” Snatching the paper bag and the card, you mentally took note to apologize to her next time before taking off. Every step you took was like stepping in shards of glass. You did your best to avoid bumping into people as you left looking like you stole something from the looks you are receiving. Eyes darting to the cars parked, you squinted while trying to calm your hammering heart and the heat that gradually enveloped your body to a point everything was a big blur. Colors swirling into a heap almost diluted. To kiss the pavement would have been possible until your chauffeur took a hold of you, scanning your sweaty face and dazed expression. It’s even a miracle you managed to reach the car without passing out or jumping someone. Although the latter would’ve been far-fetched. Clinging to the man, you groaned.

“M-Mikey, c-call him please!”

“Mikey?”

Bored. Tired. His feet screamed to go down the path headed straight to his motorcycle to take him home and see you. Mikey hated leaving the penthouse early, knowing you tend to be needy in the morning while he kisses you goodbye. But matters in the organization wouldn’t disappear overnight, especially when he’s needed. And today was no different, sitting at the head of the table, listening to Takeomi present the sales of the latest drug Bonten was selling. At the man’s call for his attention, the platinum-haired man was about to move his slightly chapped lips from staying utterly silent the whole time found his onyx irises falling to his vibrating cellphone on top of his desk. Brows furrowed as to why your chauffeur could be calling, he quickly picked it up and stood from his seat. The rest of Bonten instantly went quiet, prompting Takeomi to stand still and be ready to resume once Mikey was finished with his call.

Except he didn’t know it was connected to you.

“Speak.”

“It’s your wife, Sir. She needs to speak to you—”

“G-give me that,” your shaky voice cut through the chauffeur’s voice, worry spiking up Manjiro’s spine at how disgruntled you sounded. Keeping his wits together, he waited for you to voice out your thoughts when you practically moaned into the receiver, causing your husband’s eyes to widen a fracture. What were you up to now? “Manjiro…” You drawling his name so seductively had his pants tightening. Manjiro could only mentally curse at the effect you have on him. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, baby—know how much you hate me callin’ if you’re busy but, fuck…”

“What’s wrong?”

“‘Jiro, my heat… it’s here. Please come home to me.”

Thirty to twenty minutes. That is the usual traveling time Mikey had gotten used to from the penthouse to Bonten’s headquarters every time his presence was needed. Yet, it merely took him five to reach the towering building and ride up the elevator to your shared home. Seconds to discard his shoes and pad to the master bedroom, trailing the clothes you wore now serving like breadcrumbs on the floor. And even before he could swing the door open to ask where you are, you flung it back and jumped him. Hot kisses stamped all over his face, lowering down to his sensitive neck where goosebumps littered while he held you in his arms to steady you. The tight squeeze of your legs around his waist almost bruising, the aching damp cunt of yours rubbing against his clothed bulge. In all his years of living a dangerous life, Mikey would’ve normally prevented anyone from surprising him after being numerously betrayed by those who seek to ruin him. How easily those principles he lived by crumble at the face of you whining for his cock to stuff you full of his cum, naked as the day you were born with your bunny ears twitching.

“‘Jiro… fuck, I need you.”

“Baby, calm down—”

His words were akin to white noise, lips still aching to kiss every inch of his skin and bury yourself underneath it until Manjiro’s scent would stay with you for days, for weeks—forever. Taking matters into your own hands, you unlatched yourself from him and pushed him down until his back hits the mattress. You looked at him from above despite lust clouding your thoughts. And all your husband could do was stare back at your hazed-up mind, swallowing a moan once you straddled him and started grinding down his leaking clothed cock.

“W-wanna ride you.” Groaning at the overwhelming scent of your lover, you figured your hands had a mind of their own and started stripping him down to match you. Your leaking cunt in full display to his dark eyes that never strayed from you. You were definitely out of it—sheathing his throbbing and oozing dick inside of your gummy walls at once, whining at the stretch and how warm it was. But Mikey begged to differ, hissing at the contact and the wet muscles clenching him tightly as you started to bounce fervently. His wife has lost all inhibition and mewled, fingers playing with your perked nipples that he wished to suck on while you rode his cock.

But he couldn’t. Not when you would furrow your brows whenever he made a move to dominate you or to pin you down on the mattress to fuck you himself. No, you wanted to take lead for once and just take. Slowing down to just feel his cock snug in your hot slick cunt, you moaned into the air.

“Missed you so much, baby… Miss this cock in me—mhm, fuck. Need you…” Biting on your lower lip that it almost broke through the skin and bled, your gaze befell onto your husband who could only stare at you in muted awe. He then nodded at your statement, sharing the same sentiments. His pale chest rose and fell at the sight of raw carnal desire unfolding in front of him. Because fuck, if he had to choose between you and Bonten, anyone can mess around with the latter and still lose. But when it comes to you, those fuckers better be prepared to pry his cold dead hands from you before he’ll ever let anything awful happen to his pretty bunny. “‘Jiro…”

“Take me, baby,” he breathed, hands holding onto your hips and waist, giving them a squeeze. “Take it all. I’m all yours.”

No one had to tell you twice, resuming on bouncing on the cock you oh so loved. Unashamed to take what was yours and screaming obscene words, knowing only Manjiro is the sole witness to it all. Holding your tits, you keened. Mouth whining at how you couldn’t go on anymore. He knew this was gonna happen, you giving up in the middle of it because you hated tiring yourself—hate doing all the work. His spoiled bunny. The encouragement of your husband came in grunts, goading you to keep going. To fuck his cock and cream around it until you could no longer keep your eyes open.

“Isn’t this what—shit, what you wanted? Take this fuckin’ cock of yours, baby. Let it breed this bunny cunt. Don’t stop now.”

Sobbing softly, you came undone at the implication. Your eyes rolled back and body quivered at how he spilled his creamy cum into you. Cunt squeezing him dry for the first time today, despite knowing full well your husband would rather shoot blanks by the end of it than stop until your heat was over. Your searing gummy walls painted exactly like his silver hair. You were close to collapsing on top of him when Manjiro held you steady. Your husband caught his breath, a tiny curl at the end of his lips was a telltale sign that this was far from over. He suddenly flipped you to have your back on the mattress. Your husband then immediately went down face to face with your pussy folds still oozing with his semen. Warm tongue darting out to lick on your clit, earning a whine from your parted mouth.

“My turn.”

#❣️pat.coms #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #mikey smut #bonten mikey smut #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano smut #sano manjiro smut #tokrev smut #tw.breeding kink #tw.unprotected sex #tw.hybrid au

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thessalian · 2 years

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Thess vs Extreme Wealth

I was a kid in the 80s. I remember that time when wanting to be rich was about status symbols and flaunting one’s wealth. And, I mean, I’m sure there are some people out there who still see it that way - who want the big house, the fancy car, the unfeasibly gaudy deco, stuff like that. The sad thing is, though, that I think most of us my age or younger, if we want to be ‘rich’ at all, only want it because it would provide us a halfway decent quality of life.

Yes, I want bespoke tailored clothes. However, the status has nothing to do with it; I just want things that actually fit me, instead of being manufactured in a way that doesn’t really fit anybody except for one very specific body type, which I am decidedly not. I also want things made of decent materials so they don’t dissolve in the wash after about a month.

Yes, I want to pay someone to clean my living space. Again, though, status has nothing to do with it; it’s all about the disability. I just want things to still be clean even if I’m having a succession of bad pain days. I also want to pay someone to drive me places (though probably just taxis rather than owning a car or chauffeur), because public transport is a nightmare and I don’t trust my ability to drive a car any distance even with power steering. Pain, fatigue, and a chance of fibro fog probably doesn’t mesh overly well with any amount of traffic.

On the subject of disability, yes, I want to be able to afford to travel first or at least business class if I want or need to travel by air. Again, nothing to do with the status. I just want a seat I can stretch out in when I need to, because I’ve spent my life travelling in coach and it was uncomfortable enough before the fibromyalgia. Now that I need to change position fairly often because getting stiff means extra mega ultra pain, I can’t imagine flying coach and being capable of anything but curling up and crying on the other end.

I don’t want a big house; it’d be hell to move around in anyway. I want a flat not dissimilar to the one I’m in now. Maybe one other room, so I could have a guest room and a study / craft room. With a bigger balcony for more plants, and hopefully not north-facing so those plants could get more light. Also a decent-sized kitchen - not huge, just not smaller than the actual bathroom. Preferably pet friendly, since I’d be able to afford pet insurance. I just don’t want it to be in this country. Politics aside, it’s damn near impossible to find a pet-friendly flat or a decent-sized kitchen in this country unless you want a house, and sometimes not even then.

I mean, when you think about it, this is more or less basic stuff. Disability accommodation, decent clothes (because almost nothing we buy off the rack comes under that definition any more), a few small quality of life bits and pieces. I want to be able to grocery shop without panic attacks. I want to be able to just get a haircut when I decide I need one, not look at it and go, “Eh, I don’t look too much like a briard yet; it’ll keep another month”. I want to be able to get my eyes tested when I notice I’m having trouble focusing on fine print again, and not panic about the cost of the glasses. (Yeah, eye tests only cost £20-25, but it’s still a cost, and the optician generally pushes you to buy glasses from them, and I’m currently working on pushing back my anxiety to tell the optician, “I’d just like the prescription, please” so I can go to one of those places where you can get your glasses online for cheaper ... which is a whole other set of anxieties but never mind; I’m just not getting my mother to pay for the damn things again.) Hell, I want spare glasses.

The worst part is that things like this only seem possible these days if you’re really wealthy. Or maybe my view of what ‘wealthy’ means has changed. Because, I mean, if I was really wealthy? Like, lottery money wealthy? I’d have all of the above. My closest friends would not have debt or mortgages. I have charity-related ideas. I sure as hell wouldn’t just sit on it, or spend money on solid gold bathroom fixtures. I’d rather buy a painting from an artist just starting out than blow millions on a painting that will only further enrich an already rich person because the artist is already dead, just because it’s some kind of status symbol to be wealthy enough to afford it.

I guess the difference is that for me, money is a thing to use and circulate, to provide for people who are providing me goods and services. It’s not a way of keeping score. So I don’t get having more money than you can personally use and tucking it away so it generates more money by sitting there, instead of using what you can’t use for yourself to help others. Then again, given that we’ve established that having enough money to have some reasonable quality of life is a pipe dream for most of us, it’s probably not a surprise that I find the concept hard to grasp.

#Thess on economics

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 2 years

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Gotta say, my interaction with the panhandler washing windshields in the grocery store parking lot threw me.

First off, he didn’t hit me up for money, but clearly saw me as a fellow “down on their luck” person at first glance. Considering I was wearing about the best clothes I have, and even had on a bit of jewelry, I thought I looked like “normal folks”.

We ended up spending a while chatting, and by the end of it this fella was sorry for ME! Seriously, he was insisting he was going to “pray” for me, that he would be glad to help me out any time, and to be sure to look for him the next time I go shopping. Yeah, I was limping, and yeah, I was honest in our chat about the tip of the iceberg of my difficulties, but the sympathy and almost pity he looked at me with wasn’t what I expected.

I didn’t think my life was THAT bad. I mean, people have it worst. Lots of people.

**sigh**

And I’d just come off a brief run in with a couple of my parents’ friends that seemed to think I should just give up on repairing the houses. “Not worth the trouble” they say. Easy for them to say in their nice, relatively new and roomy house!

Of course, this is the couple that after Pop died thought Mom and I should sell everything and move into a trailer. And the last time I talked to them they thought I should get rid of all my books, DVDs, action figures, etc so that when I die my relatives wouldn’t have to deal with it all.

Look, I told these two sure, I know a way to solve all my problems, but I am NOT interested in dying yet. I’d rather endure dilapidated houses that have been home to my family since long before I was born, and find joy in my things around me, than be effectively homeless and sacrifice my own happiness while I live for worry about someone I don’t even know after I die!

My life may suck in many ways, and panhandlers may even pity me, but I am alive, and I will continue to hold on to whatever I feel makes my life worth living as long as I can. The woods, the animals, the houses, my books, my movies, my knick knacks…. Just ’cause THEY don’t get what I value, doesn’t mean my valuing these things is wrong. Death gets us all in the end, so why not enjoy what little life is left, however you can.

It’s simple. I can’t afford to buy anything. I can’t afford to go anywhere. I have no one but Mom’s voice on the end of a phone to love me. Take away my stuff (which includes my sculpting and camera) and my home (which includes the woods) and there isn’t anything to fill the void. I won’t die just from losing them too, I suppose, but I sure wouldn’t enjoy living. And that might actually finally kill me.

So what I’m saying is, I enjoyed talking to the panhandler a LOT more than the family friends!

#my day #shopping #socializing #poverty

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hessa-and-oh · 2 years

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The Cleaning Lady Season 2 Rant and Review

Five episodes into the second season of the cleaning lady, it is clear that this season is a step down from the first. It's almost as if the first season's writers aren't the same as the second season's.

The first season's major plotline was saving Luca and exploring difficult relationships and marriages through Arman and Nadia, Marco and Thony. But, for some reason, Marco is killed off far too early, providing no long-term function in Luca or Thony's lives.

Every decision she makes involves Arman. Her life revolves around Arman, although their desire seemed to have faded in season 2, only to reappear in episode 5 as she held his hand when he confessed, he didn't know who he is anymore.

Arman cannot seem to make up his mind, he is jealous over Nadia’s involvement with other men yet he encourages Thony’s flirtations. I had thought that Arman and Nadia would come to an understand or an open marriage. This could have made the season better, having Nadia explore her potentially bisexuality.

And then there's this Kamdar guy, who isn't exactly a terrifying villain. I know the writers are attempting to give him a sex appeal, but it's not working. He isn't remarkable. He doesn't give off a menacing vibe. He is just a gnat. He is not a formidable foe for Arman. He's only one of the people Arman will kill by the conclusion of the season.

Hyatt died unexpectedly, and the case was instantly closed. How about his daughter and son, Tarik? How do they feel about Arman killing their father? Are you saying there will be no retaliation for what Arman did? None of his contacts or loyalists are out for vengeance. Arman, despite being a rat, can simply walk out of prison and onto the streets.

Then there's the hilarious moment where he and Thony are apprehended by Garrett. First and foremost, why would Arman make such a novice mistake? How could Arman acquire such a large shipment and then store it at Thony's new business? Who in the world does that? You can’t be in the drug game and not have a stash house with security. Besides, how is Bosco able to transport the drugs and not even try to hide them cleverly in case their vehicle was stopped and searched. Let's even ignore that for a minute. How can Thony bring a drug dealer to her business place and show him all her drugs. It’s not like going to the grocery store and buying what your money can afford. When you show a drug dealer your stash, you know that person will either kill you at some time or rob you either right away or later. Thony cannot defend herself.

How can Thony bring a drug dealer to her business place and show him all her drugs. It’s not like going to the grocery store and buying what your money can afford. When you show a drug dealer your stash, you know that person will either kill you at some point or rob you either right away or later. Thony cannot defend herself. That drug dealer must have a heart of gold.

The worst part is that Arman and Thony are attempting to move the pills in broad daylight. Arman seems to be the target of the writers' projection of Thony's ignorance about illegal trade.

This is something that the Arman of season 1 would never do. Arman wouldn't let himself be caught off guard; he would either recruit soldiers or prepare a backup plan. They won't have been discovered by Garrett, and they are back to serving as his informants like they did in season one.

This season better end with Arman killing Garrett.

#the cleaning lady #thony de la rosa #arman x thony #arman morales #armany #elodie yung #adan canto #sean lew #fiona de la rosa #chris de la rosa #nadia morales #robert kamdar

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privateonlinediary · 2 years

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I’ve had enough

Today I just honestly feel like giving up on life. I’ve been dealing with depression for quite some time now and while I do believe it gets better.. it’s taking a long ass time for me and I don’t know if I can last much longer like this.

I feel like I have nothing going for me. I feel incredibly lonely. I’m just really craving love, and physical affection. Not even specifically sexual, mostly just someone to cuddle with, or hold hands with. Someone that genuinely cares about me and isn’t out to use/abuse me. But I can’t seem to find someone that I am interested in, that is interested in me for me. Most of them either just don’t like me, or only like me for my body. I feel disgusted with my body. There is not a day that goes by where I don’t obsess over the way I look. Mirrors and even reflections of myself in windows or other shiny objects are just a reminder of how much I hate myself. I constantly (even when I am alone) hold in my stomach when I walk around or sit. I constantly make sure that when I am laying down, I cover my neck/chin because I fear people seeing a double chin. These insecurities are just tiring me out. I have no career or job. My depression is definitely playing a big role in this, but this doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have a job, and am currently incapable of keeping one even if I wanted to. I mean, I can barely get myself out of bed and in the shower or just do groceries. My housing situation is a mess. I don’t qualify for social renting since I haven’t been signed up long enough yet. I’m at 3.5 years now and I still only come in at 200th place when applying for houses. Private renting and buying a house are not an option because I just don’t make enough money. And now I’ve gotten word that I need to be moving out of my current anti squatting house within 1.5 months. I don’t have a new place to move to yet other than my moms house again. I’ll be living in a room of 2x3 meters, with 0 privacy as my mother cannot work due to a work related accident she had years ago so she is at home 24/7. The place is cluttered with furniture and super messy as my mom is somewhat of a hoarder. Also: My depression treatment is a LOT further away from my mothers house, and I cannot afford to be traveling up and down all the time so I would probably have to quit my treatment and be put on yet another waiting list in a different city again. I am 30 years old. At this point it just feels like I am surviving instead of living. And I am so sick and tired of this life.

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theunsuspectedmundane · 2 years

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Thoughts #16 Useless

Lately I’ve been having thoughts about how my life is turning out to be one useless spiral that’s just going downhill. I’ve been doing okay lately but it’s just now that I’ve been chased by the emotions and thoughts I’ve neglected and denied to address since last year. I did not get better that’s why I wasn’t here, I was just spacing out and pretending that life was actually good. But it is not for me.

I know being haunted by my own fault of being pushed around and doing things for others, never saying no, and just trying to fit in with everybody’s standards. I am broke, I have no sense of direction, and I am currently trying to get by. I planned on ending my life this month but opportunities arrived and I am almost done with my studies. So I will give myself a year to finish everything and continue the original plan. this is not a suicide note just me stating my plans ahead because no one seems to care.

I am useless, without my salary, without my job, without people needing information, because me just being me is nothing. My mom treats me badly when I don’t have money, my job is not paying me enough, I can’t pay my brother’s tuition, I haven’t payed our bills yet and I am basically of zero investments because all my money goes back to my parent’s expenses. I tried not giving them money but all I receive was a cold shoulder. Am I a wallet to them? I can’t keep up with this lifestyle. I can’t sneak around buying the things I want and feel guilty for having to spend something on me and not them. I hate enjoying my little things and having to think about my family and how the money I spent buying that food should’ve been given to my parents to buy groceries instead. I hate thinking that my brother doesn’t have his own room. I hate to think that my parents have zero plans on my brother so I have to think of a way on what to do about it. My mind works 24/7, even in my sleep the problems are still in my dreams and it’s bothering my everyday work. I haven’t done a single work because I have been procrastinating thinking of ways on how to solve my problems. I am planning on selling my prized posessions just to provide because I really really feel like I am being compared and whenever I can’t give a much larger sum amount of money I am disappointing my parents. I can’t move out because I can’t afford to live on my own and send money still, because once I start living on my own they’ll disown me. Maybe I should kills myself sooner than planned.

#thoughts

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jewelsunrays · 2 years

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I tried my hand at painting for the first time in… ages.

Meant to be Monet-inspired, as he’s my favourite artist, but… what the fuck is this shit man

The last few days have been uneventful. I’ll write down the most significant parts I remember, as I failed to update my diary. In no particular order:

I had a dream - or, well, a series of dreams - all involving being in a shopping centre and floods. The plot of every dream was different, yet in every dream, I went to the (exact same in every dream) shopping centre, which progressively flooded more and more. I kept going back in to buy things, narrowly avoiding the flood every time. It sounds darker than it was.

I think shopping cropped up because we’ve been having money problems and can’t afford as much food and I can’t buy things that I really want, especially as I discussed my frustrations the other day to my boyfriend (he left me on read by the way). In the dream I bought a lot of snacks without restriction, browsed an entire grocery store, and bought tons of books, which is pretty much all I want to do in real life. However according to Google it means I have to see if my wants and needs are being fulfilled and making a decision about someone or something in my life. The flood was also apparently representative of my ‘inner thoughts and feelings and emotions’ which are ‘never seen the people around you’ and is ‘associated with my overwhelming feelings towards a certain variable’. This all adds up but I hate that even my subconscious is telling me this because I’m trying to ignore it.

I decided that if I don’t make friends or get outcast in college, I won’t care. My devotion will be entirely on my studies and passing, since that’s what I need for a better future; friends would be nice but I’m not going there to get an entirely new friend group and go to parties and be a chill quiet new girl and find my soulmates. I’m there for *studying*. To learn. To pass. For my future. Not friends. If I happen to make friends, awesome, but I won’t intentionally seek them out, because that’s not my main goal. I need to remember this whenever I feel slightly anxious about people not liking me or being alone: the only thing I should be nervous about is my grades, and I shouldn’t care for the opinions of absolute strangers.

I’ve discovered that now that I have a will to live, I will be sat doing whatever the fuck completely chilled out when suddenly I am filled with a super anxious and nervous feeling ! Its crippling! Why the fuck is this happening! I won’t even be thinking of something in my life for me to just get stressed over everything and nothing. Really pisses me off. I’m not upset with it. Just annoyed. Real fucking thorn in my side.

Also regretting my decision to take art. Why did I do that. Did I think it would be easy. It won’t be. Huge mistake. Why the fuck. Anyway. Too late now

I am so hungry there is no food and we don’t have money until Thursday :(

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

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

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

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

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

-----

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You haven’t eaten?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does everything taste?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Why me.”

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

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

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

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

-----

Months pass by.

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

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

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

Life is good.

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

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

And you’re more than happy to be that.

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

Until he starts acting weird.

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

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

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

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

So you move in.

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

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

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

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

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

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

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

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

Weird.

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

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

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

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

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

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

He seemed to notice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too sweet?’

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

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

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

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

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

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

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

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone was kissing you.

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t right.

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

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

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

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

“Wait-”

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t believe your ears.

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

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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thessalian · 1 year

Text

Thess vs Helplessness

It came to me today, as I was committing yet another act of Making Things, exactly why I enjoy Making Things as much as I do: it’s not quite spite, though that’s sort of close. It’s about the only thing I have to alleviate the feelings of helplessness that just kind of ... gather en masse these days.

I mean, there’s the fibromyalgia for starters. Never knowing what shape I’m going to be in day to day. Having to be so careful about spoon expenditure. Hurting all the time, and while I can generally get some improvement, I get no real relief from any of it. It’s a horrible feeling.

Then add to that ... well, this fucking country. The Bank of England has just raised interest rates again, massively - so it’s up to 3% now. We’re looking down the barrel of the longest recession since the 1930s. Which ... we’re talking about Great Depression terms here. The cost of living is skyrocketing, wages are in no way rising to compensate, and the murmuring from the government is that there are going to be more cuts to things that can’t afford to be cut anymore, not to mention tax rises (and gods know they probably won’t be for the rich, though at least one mention has been made of abolishing the whole non-domicile tax loophole - though if Sunak lets that one go, he’s going to end up sleeping on 10 Downing Street’s sofa because that loophole is his wife’s favourite). It’s a nightmare.

They say all this like it’s just arbitrary numbers, but it isn’t. I see the difference every time I shop for groceries. It’s not even just the price of everything going up - the quality and quantity you get for your money has plummeted too. The chicken I cooked today, for example. I have to order my groceries online, for the most part, because dragging home even a week’s worth of groceries is a nightmare, never mind a month’s worth. So when I ordered a chicken I wanted to last for many days, I ordered a medium-sized one. What I got was one that was smaller than the ‘small’ chickens I was buying a couple of years ago, and it hadn’t been properly plucked - none of the poultry I’ve been getting lately has, to be honest. Also it was more bone than substance, especially in the legs, so damnit, I probably got a battery chicken (I hate that, but with prices what they are... Ugh). All of that taken into account, my ‘medium’-sized chicken is not going to last as long as I thought it would. Which pissed me off because that’s just ... I got less for more in so many ways. So I was angry, and again, I felt helpless.

And then I thought, “Fuck this. I am going to squeeze EVERY DROP OF GOOD I CAN OUT OF THIS BIRD”, and looked up how to make chicken stock. I had to do some guessing and goshing, and may have used slightly too much water, but what I also used were more fresh herbs from my windowsill-and-balcony garden. And some peppercorns. And a couple of cloves of garlic. And I just boiled them all for hours and now I have chicken stock. Which I will use in risotto, along with some of my leftover chicken. I am going to make as many meals as humanly possible out of that pitiful bird and price-gouging assholes who think more about shareholders than people can get fucked with knives.

It also helps to make sure I get all the things that I actually want, the way I want them, which is incredibly hard here. "We make our pickles super-sweet here and if you don’t like it, then tough luck”. Fuck that; I’ll make my own. “Sugar tax and price-gouging and cheaping out on ingredients in sweets, and if you don’t like it, don’t buy it”. Fuck that; I’ll make my own. “We don’t do much gluten-free so you can forget most breaded things unless you pay through the nose for it”. FUCK THAT AND FUCK YOU; I am asking for an air fryer for Christmas and, again, I will make my own. I am not as bound by what I can find - and, more to the point, what I can afford, on the supermarket shelves. Yeah, the base ingredients cost, but not as much and at least you know what you’re getting.

So that’s basically it. I make things because I am tired of feeling held hostage by price increases. I refuse to buy ‘just the bare essentials”, at least in part because even my essentials are expensive because gluten issues. But mostly, it’s just that everyone needs some goodness in their lives. And if this fucking country seeks to deny me that through an ill-thought-out Brexit, if it keeps insisting that raising wages in line with inflation will cause a ‘wage-price spiral’ because they’re more interested in inflating the bubble economy a few more inches than they are in letting people live, if it keeps telling me that I’d be a lot better off financially if I just cut out all sources of joy? Well, then, fuck them. Up the arse. With cacti. SIDEWAYS. They won’t do right by me; I’ll just do right by myself as much as I can. If that means putting some effort into growing my own herbs, making my own candy, dehydrating fruit so I can have fruit that won’t go off if I buy in bulk, and generally squeezing the maximum benefit out of every single fucking thing my budget will allow in this situation? At least I’m doing something.

We’re two years away from a general election, and we keep getting prime ministers that we never voted for making our lives worse and worse with every decision they make. They talk about the potential for running out of fuel this winter to the point where they’ve got a worst case scenario for week-long blackouts (and keep in mind that this is the same country that refused to acknowledge the worst case scenarios about Brexit and Covid, and both ended up worse than their projected scenarios, so I have the terror) ... but I look out the window and I see all the office buildings lit up like Christmas trees. Why do all the lights in those buildings need to be on if we’re worrying about upcoming fuel shortages? Wouldn’t we save a lot if they just turned off all the lights beyond the ones on the tops of those buildings that are there to warn low-flying aircraft that they want to pull up if they don’t want to crash into a building? But no; apparently it’s so much more convenient to ignore it and have the potential for people freezing this winter, and being unable to cook for days at a time, even if they can afford their electricity bills. (And what’s the bets there won’t be any reduction in the standing charge even when the power companies aren’t providing the service for periods that long?) I can do nothing about any of this, because ... well, see above. Two years away from a general election, protest all but criminalised (and will be worse if they pass that horrible bill that says that anyone who’s been in a protest that has been so much as ‘annoying’ or ‘noisy’ will have to wear a gods-damned ankle tracker). Also I couldn’t manage a protest march. There is literally nothing I can do about the root causes of any of this.

So I will do what I can to make my life as bearable as possible for as long as I’m able. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it anger me beyond all reason that I should have to do this? Sort of, but I guess I don’t have to. Nobody expects me to. That’s why I get, “That sounds like so much effort, though!” Well, I mean, yeah, but I have some control here. I can make something good happen. And if it spites Tory assholes who think that people like me should live on gruel and do nothing but work and sleep, or preferably die because I can’t work hard enough to be a sacrifice to the Great God ECONOMY ... so much the better. It’s a small thing in the grand scheme of things, I guess, but I have to do something or I’m just going to despair, and in terms of my mental health, I can’t afford that. Sure, it’s not great for my chronic pain, but it’s still better than the alternative. The alternative isn’t pretty. I can deal with physical pain way better than I can deal with a depression spiral. I speak from experience.

#Thess cooks #Thess has fibromyalgia #Thess on economics

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 1 year

Text

Right now there is more money in my bank account than usually passes through it in a year, and I can’t spend a penny of it.

It isn’t mine. Don’t worry, it’s nothing shady. My brother needs me to pay a county tax bill for Mom in person, for complicated reasons.** The money will only be there 24hrs, since I will head to the court house before then.

It’s insane though. I am so broke personally that the only reason I will have any groceries this month is because of someone’s kindness.

Thousands and thousands of dollars in my bank account and I can’t get the pickup repaired or buy a new cable to charge my ipad or replace these boots now that the seam that supports my ankles has ripped***. I’m even rationing paper towels, for crying out loud!

Yet tomorrow I am going to be writing the largest check I have ever written in my life.

It feels so weird. And depressing TBH. All that money is sort of mocking me, like “Yeah, some people have this kind of money…they can casually transfer over to your bank account, but YOU better not buy a replacement for your broken earbuds at Dollar Tree ‘cause you may need that buck for gas or something else important.”

Poverty isn’t just the things you can’t afford to fix or replace or do, it’s being reminded that for lots of people these are things they never even have to think about. I HATE thinking about money all the damn time just so I can survive!

And yet, when I write that check tomorrow, anyone watching will assume I am one of those that don’t need to worry all the time. Little do they know I’m a “every tiny choice has a sacrifice” person.****

**Reasons involving the fact my cousin owned 1/4 share of the property, and being a squirrelly ill tempered lady she left her share to the Nature Conservancy, BUT the executor of her will has attempted to steal the share for herself. It’s a thing. Thank goodness my brother has a LOT more money so he we have a lawyer on the case. But since we are talking my woods, the farm, basically my home, I am having a bit of a breakdown over it all.

***Boots aren’t fashion for me. These boots are the only thing I can get locally and afford (eventually) that support my ankles and fit my ankle braces. I no longer can wear sneakers or anything else that doesn’t lace up above the ankle. It sucks, especially considering the last time I got a pair of boots it was $80…the reason I only own one pair at a time anymore.

**** All these “ways to save money” things are bullshit. They assume you have a certain level of money to begin with. Anything that talks about gym memberships and lattes is utterly hilarious. Yeah, get poor enough you don’t have things you can cut back on!

#my day #money #poverty #tired #busy #stressed #can I have a breakdown now?

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darkmulti · 3 years

Note

(Yandere and non con warning)

Def not the only one who wants a 18th century h.c of possessive and controlling, husband!Jungkook x forced wife!reader. Jungkook gets jealous after witnessing another man asking you out and when you come back home at night, he breeds you. Please make it rough and non con. Thank you❤️‍🔥

-> you’re definitely not the only one. I can assure you that I’ve thought about this too many times😫

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, Squirting/piss play, Physically, mental and emotional abuse, spit play,

-> sorry for any mistakes

Your parents owned a local bakery store

All the recipes were from your late grandmother

You spent almost all of your time there because you were in charge of everything

The store was under your parents’ name but you were the one running it

Sometimes, you even slept there because it’d be too late to walk home

Your dedication to the bakery made it successful

Although, you were the one doing all the work, you parents took all the credit and money

They weren’t paying you because you’re their child

They don’t need to pay you

“It’s a women’s place.” Your father said

You wanted to go back to school however, your parents laughed in your face

“School aren’t for girls, Y/N. Learn how to cook and clean. That’s all you need to know. Let the men handle everything else.”

You were tired of fighting with them and eventually stopped because they threatened to set you up in an arrange marriage

Now, it was just you and the bakery

You had many loyal customers and recently, one has been coming everyday, at the same time

He’d always buy a loaf of banana bread and if he was in a good mood, a blueberry muffin as well

Then, he’d sit in the corner table and eat two - three slices before getting up and leaving

He’d always leave a tip behind and you always kept it for yourself

One day, he didn’t come and you were surprised

For a year straight, he came and bought the same two things

Now, he hasn’t visited in 4 days

Tonight, you came back home for the first time in a while

Your parents had visited the bakery to collect “their” earnings and told you that you have to go somewhere with them that evening

After closing up and cleaning up, you went home and got ready

Your parents were taking you out for dinner as a treat for all your hard work

You were really excited because they were finally acknowledging your hard work

Once you arrived at the restaurant, your parents lead you to a table that already had three people seated

You immediately recognize one of them

It’s that guy who buys your banana loaf!

You sat in front of him while your parents greeted the two other strangers

“Oh, so this is your daughter? She’s gorgeous! Come here and give me a hug.”

You awkwardly chuckled and got up to hug the middle aged women

“Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Jeon F/N, this is my husband, Jeon F/N and this is our son, Jeon Jungkook. We’re your soon to be in laws!”

You heart dropped to the floor

“I-in laws?” You asked, confused

“Yeah, honey. Is this your first time hearing about this? We’ve been talking to your parents for a while now.”

You snapped your head towards you parents and they looked emotionless

“No, no they didn’t tell me anything.”

Dinner with them was hell

Your parents were talking about your wedding arrangements right in front of you

You didn’t know what to do

You wanted to rebel but then your parents would disown you

Just like that, you’d be homeless with little money to survive

In the end, you’d be paying the heavy price

You looked at Jungkook who was staring at you the whole time

You wondered if he knew about this

Maybe, that’s why he came to the bakery everyday

“Did you know anything about this?” You said loud enough for him to hear

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“Since last year.”

You eyes widen, in shock

You were right!

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Why would I stop it when I’m the one who wants it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, in confusion

“What’re you talking about?”

“Since the first day I met you, I wanted to marry you. I told my parents and now, we’re getting married.”

Now, you were mad

You got up and stormed off, catching everyone’s attention

You walked to the bakery and locked yourself in

Here, you thought your parents were acknowledging you for first time, when they were actually setting you up for a marriage so they don’t have to take care of you

You cried yourself to sleep that night

The next couple of weeks, the bakery was closed due to your wedding

The wedding was spectacular

You would’ve love it if you weren’t being forced into a marriage

After the wedding, Jungkook took your precious virginity

He made sure to pleasure you until you passed out

He was so in love with you

Now, he was finally able to show you how much he loved you

And mark you as his

The next couple of months, he was attached to you

He took over his family’s business and you took over your family’s business

He’d visit you every day at work to check if you’re with another man

He was so paranoid about it, sometimes he’d come by 3 or 4 times to make sure you were not cheating

You thought he missed you and that’s why he kept stopping by (which is half true) however, you had no idea that he was possessive and controlling

You had to learn the hard way

Sometimes, you wouldn’t leave work until midnight

You had so much things to do like preparing for the next day, making a to-do list, making a grocery lists, and cleaning every area of the shop

It’s time consuming, so obviously you finish up pretty late

Jungkook absolutely hates that

Although you stay late in the shop once in a while, he can’t stand it

He wants you to be in his arms every night

Jungkook gets angry when you’re not

This was your fourth time staying out late in the shop and he’s had enough

He couldn’t help but feel paranoid about what you were actually doing in the shop

What if you lied and went on a date with another man?

What if you were running away from him?

Or even worse, what if you were having sex with another guy?

He raced to the bakery and banged on the door, which scared you

You saw that it was him and let him in

“W-what’s wrong?! You scared me!”

“Grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

“But I’m not done yet! I only have a couple more things to do and then I’ll come home. I told you already-”

“I don’t think you fucking heard me!” He yelled and grabbed your hair

“Grab your shit, we are leaving right now.”

He pushed you towards the counter and crossed his arms

You let your breath out in shock but scurry to get your stuff

You’ve never seen him like this and it terrified you

“I have my stuff.”

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped you lock the door and wrapped his arm around your waist

The walk home was silent

You were scared shitless

All you wanted to do was run back into your parents’ house

But he didn’t let you move an inch away from him

Once you got home, he started pushing you around and arguing some more

“Jungkook, I told you this afternoon when you came to visit! I said I have to stay late so I don’t have to stress myself out in the morning!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Who were you fucking seeing?!” He screamed, frightening you more

“No one! I swear, no one!” You whimpered

He corned you into your shared room and locked the door

“Jungkook, I swear! Nothing happened!”

He didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth

It was like you were talking to a wall

He pushed you onto the bed and stripped you naked

Jungkook pushed two fingers into your cunt and pretended to scoop out cum

“If nothing happened, why is your cunt full of cum?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t have sex with anyone!”

You weren’t very educated about sex, so Jungkook had an advantage

You began apologizing even though you didn’t have sex with anyone

You just wanted peace between you two

“I’m sorry! I didn’t cheat or anything, but I’m sorry if it hurt you! I really am!”

Jungkook slapped you and spat on your face

“Dirty slut. Telling me that you’re not cheating but still apologizing.”

“No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”

Jungkook pulled his cock out and shoved it in without warning

You were still new to sex so when he didn’t let you adjust, you automatically started screaming and crying

“Please, slower!” You cried, holding onto his biceps as he went faster and deeper

“Stop! Please!”

Jungkook loved the sound of his balls clapping against your ass

It honestly made him harder

All night, he was on top, fucking you hard

Your legs were spread apart, tears in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead

You looked like a hot mess

And he loved every second of it

“Mmh- Jungkook!”

You squirted around him and had a trembling orgasm

You couldn’t stop releasing your liquids on him and he couldn’t stop pounding you

The bed sheet was soaked by the end of it

He pushed his cock deep inside and came

After Jungkook fell asleep, you cried for while

How were you supposed to tolerate him for the rest of your life?

The next morning

You woke up in severe pain

You lower region was begging for some pain relief

But there was nothing you could do about it

Jungkook was still sleeping next to you

You decided to leave before he wakes up

After getting ready by leaning on everything, you slowly walked to town

When you arrived at the bakery, you saw a big “for sale” sign

You panicked and went inside the store, only to be greeted by your parents

“Mother, father! Why is there a “for sale” sign on the bakery?”

You parents looked at each other in disappointment

“You see, we have to explain the obvious to your daughter. Be grateful that someone willingly married your idiot daughter.” Your father said before walking out

His words did hurt but you cared about the bakery more than your father

“Why’re you selling it, mother? Can you not afford it anymore? Why-”

“Shut up, Y/N! You’re married now, you have wifely duties. You don’t have time for this bakery so the best option is to sell it.”

Your world fell apart right before your eyes

“But mother-”

“Save it. You already made your father upset. I’m warning you now, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

You cried the whole morning

After you opened the bakery, lots of people gathered in line

All breads, cakes and muffins were going on sale

After you served the people in line, you went up to the tables and took their order

After you served them, a regular customer who was sitting alone gestured you to come over

You went over to the man and asked him if he needed anything

He told you to take a seat and accompany him

Since the crowd died down, you sat down in front of him

“You look a bit stressed and sad. What’s on your mind?”

You were touched by his words

Finally, someone cared about you

You told him you were upset about the bakery closing

He understood and even offered money to help you keep it open

You were flattered but didn’t accept the money

“Money’s not a problem, my parents just don’t want to keep this shop open.”

You talked with this guy for a couple of hours

Although this was your first time talking to him, you talked to him like he was your best friend

When closing time came around, he got up and asked you out on a date

You didn’t know what to do

You were married but you really liked this guy

You were considering saying yes when someone pulled his shoulder back and punched him across the face

“Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think I didn’t see that?! I saw it all. I saw you flirting with my wife for three hours straight and then asking her out on a date!”

Jungkook beat the crap out of the guy and pushed him outside

He then came back in the store, looking at you with devil eyes

“Yesterday’s punishment clearly wasn’t enough.”

The entire way home, he was yelling at you, slapping you, spitting on you, pulling your hair, pushing you to the ground and choking you

You were crying the whole time, apologizing over and over

When you arrived home, he seriously had no mercy on you

No foreplay, no lube, no adjusting

Just a raw, thick cock being forced into you

You were begging him to let you go but tonight, nothing was going to stop him

He was moving his hips insanely fast, not giving you enough time to breathe

You were choking on your own sobs

“Jungkook, please no! I’m sorry!”

“Why did you hesitate to deny his offer? You are a married fucking women!” With each word a hard thrust followed, knocking all the air out of you

“Answer me! Is he better than me? Does he take care of you? Does he provide money for you? TELL ME!” He was yelling so loudly, it was making you cry harder

“N-no, he doesn’t. He was just the first person to care about me.” You whispered the last sentence but, Jungkook was able to make it out

“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?”

He got more aggressive and fastened his pace

“Tell me, Y/N! Do you think that I don’t care about you?!”

You couldn’t answer him because you couldn’t catch your breath

He was going too fast and you were crying so hard, you couldn’t breathe

Jungkook noticed how much you were struggling and added onto your struggle by holding your neck down

“Apologize, right now Jeon Y/N!”

You softly apologize but it wasn’t good enough for him

He lifted your legs a little, giving him better access and fucked you till you squirted

This time you sobbed your apology and begged for forgiveness

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook! It’ll never— ah! It’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry! Please for- forgive me for my dumb m-mistake. Please! I’m begging you.” You held onto the bed sheet, praying he would stop

He huskily growled and pushed his cock in deep

“For the next 9 months you’ll be swelling with my baby. Now, everyone can back off.”

He shot his hot cum right into you, filling you up to the rim

Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 3:41am 😄

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #non con #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

————————————————————————

you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

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ironhusband · 3 years

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🥺🥺 ironhusbands + your card declines and the person behind you offers to pay ??

France, I can't believe you literally read my mind, this is exactly what I wanted to write.

~~~

Tony had a bad week. Well, a bad month, really, coming up to a bad year. Maybe even a bad life. But that would be too dramatic even for him.

On the first day of Christmas, he told his dad he didn't want to make weapons when he takes over the company. On the second day of Christmas, his dad told him he was out of the will. On the third day of Christmas, his parents left. On the fourth day of Christmas, the police knocked on his door.

On the seventh day of Christmas, his card got declined at the grocery store.

"Run it through again," Tony pleaded. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, he chanted in his mind, hoping it will keep the tears at bay. Good 'ol dad, Tony thought, not even giving him a week to mourn before he completely cuts him off. If you cry now, he wins.

"Sir, I already ran it through five times," the cashier said apologetically.

Tony looked down at what he was buying. It was nothing major; shaving cream, milk, pasta. He didn't want to risk it in cause, well, this happened, but he thought he would still have some money left. That he would have something left. Apparently not.

"I..." he should leave. Beg Obie for some money maybe and come back. Get a job. Maybe he could sell DUM-E or patent JARVIS. That would take time. He never thought he'd be seriously considering dumpster diving until now.

"I got it," someone behind him said.

Tony turned around. As far as heroes go, he pretty much looked the part. Around his age, very good looking, with a charming smile, a confident stand, and warm, soft eyes. Too bad Tony didn't need a knight in shining armor.

The humiliation stung and stubbornly, Tony turned to the cashier. "No, I got it. Run it through again."

The smile vanished. "You got nothing, man," the man rolled his eyes, "just let me pay."

Tony didn't look at him, "you're not going to pay."

"Am too."

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

"Sirs," the cashier interrupted, "you're holding up the line."

Tony glanced back at the people behind him, ranging from annoyed to symaphtic. They were whispering between themselves. Maybe talking about how this crazy guy looked a lot like Tony Stark.

Tony considered his options. Letting this guy pay might hurt his pride, but it will mean he will get out of here faster than someone can recognize him. Judging by the look in the guy's eye, he managed to stand right if front of someone as headstrong as him. He wouldn't give up without a fight. And plus, oh yeah, he would eat.

"Fine," Tony grumbled.

The guy grinned winningly and turned to pay for Tony's three items. Tony took them, quickly thanking the guy, and exiting the store as soon as possible.

Luckily for him, the other guy seemed to be competing for athlete of the year, being surprisingly speedy for a man shorter than even Tony.

"Hey, do you have anywhere to stay?"

Tony jumped at the sound of the guy creeping behind him and let out a frustrated sound when he recognized him, "what, is it national pity day? I don't need your help."

"Kinda seemed like you did," asshole pointed out.

"You don't know me."

"My question seems to be a good way to get around to it."

After a beat, Tony said, if only to make that guy get off his back, "yes, I do." He wasn't kicked out of the manor. Yet.

"Where?"

"Manhattan."

The guy's eyebrows raised, "you can't afford to pay for pasta, but you can to live in Manhattan?"

Tony glared at him, "as I said, you don't know me."

The man stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. Tony didn't want to make a scene by shaking him off. "Most people are nicer to their savior."

"You do this a lot?" Tony sneered, "bet you just wait for people's cards to decline so you can be the hero. What did you even buy, anyway?"

The man offered him some gum, "want some?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "of course that's what you bought."

He shrugged, "didn't have enough cash for more than gum. And your things."

Guilt wretched in Tony's gut. He didn't want this guy to pay, and now he skipped buying his groceries. Great going, Tony. Now his patheticness was affecting others. "You shouldn't have-"

"Let me drive you home," the guy cut him off, "swear if you see my car, you won't think I'm some hero who gave up his lunch or whatever you're thinking."

Even though this was the start of a very special episode, Tony asked, "would you leave me alone, then?"

The guy nodded.

"Fine."

~~~

The guy's name was Rhodey, and apparently he did what he did because his mother was some kind of nagging moral compass in his mind. Tony tried not to think of his mom - he knew if he did he would cry in front of this stranger.

Rhodey actually wasn't as talkative as Tony expected, but he did ask question after question, until Tony eventually gave up and told him, that yes, he did graduate high school, no, he already finished college, yes, he was some kind of genius, and his name was Tony. Rhodey, apparently, also got into MIT young, graduating last year, and he was working at NASA GISS now. Tony told him he was unemployed, but he was sure it wasn't for long. That would at least relax this guy.

When Rhodey pulled up at the manor, he gaped, "you're the Stark kid."

"The one and only," Tony said bitterly. He was only ever an only child, after all. He wondered if his siblings would help them out if he had them.

"Didn't inherit the fortune?"

Tony grit his teeth and didn't answer, "thanks for the ride, Rhodey."

"No problem," he said, recovering rather quickly from the shock, "check their sock drawers. Rich people have weird ass sock drawers."

Tony snorted, shutting the door of the car behind him.

#ironhusbands #rhodeytony #james rhodes #tony stark #rhodey #James rhodey rhodes #asks #druwrites #iron husbands #tonyrhodey #howard stark's a+ parenting

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