#not gonna apologize for the length - resisting - as you did ask for all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mydaroga · 5 months

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Follow up on the Tune In ask, Thank you for your response!! And please, never apologize for the length, it was greatly insightful. I actually haven't started on the book yet but it came highly recommended to me as The definitive Beatles biography so I was looking around to see what others think of it. Most of the critical opinions I found on this site seem consistent with your criticisms especially about Lewisohn's tendency to cherry pick quotes or imposing a new context on them...

Well, that formatted weird. Sorry. Anyway, I will definitely try to give as thorough an answer as I have time for, so that may mean just a few examples. If you want a deeper dive I can recommend the Another Kind of Mind Series, Fine Tuning. I don't agree entirely with their approach, but I agree for the most part with their findings and concerns, if that makes sense. And then there's Serene's blog entry which does a more thorough examination of the way Lewisohn ... hrm, shall we say, stretches citations to mean... whatever he wants.

I don't know that I am going to be able to go into quite as much detail here as I didn't keep these good notes while reading. But I can think of a few things that stuck out to me before I listened/read these other takes. And I'm happy to keep talking about this or expand, I'm not saying I don't like doing this, just that I am not gonna ... okay I'm going to write an essay? But I won't be as meticulous as I should be.

The first thing that made me stop reading and just go track down what was actually going on was a passage in which Lewisohn is talking about teen Paul's resistance to getting a job, going against Jim. From Tune In:

Paul still hated anyone telling him what to do -- 'It just never occurred to me to listen to other people' -- but when Jim insisted, sometimes Paul did as bid... as John scathingly noted. He went down to the Labour Exchange and Renshaw Hall and landed a £10-a-week Christmas-period job with SPD Ltd, Speedy Prompt Deliveries.

Now, all on its own without context this is a great Paul McCartney quote because you go, "yeah that checks out." I plan on using it as a sort of Macca meme, you know? But it was soooo Paul I thought, "wait, in what context did he say that? Like, he doesn't listen ever? He's admitting he just doesn't listen to anyone?"

So weirdly, it's not actually footnoted, but I found the source. It's a 1980 interview with Tim Rice, which is entertaining in its own right because he tells the guy who co-wrote Jesus Christ Superstar and Evita and later The Lion King that, you know, musicals are boring. Anyway, not the point.

It took me awhile to find the actual quote, because it's really a throwaway, almost self-deprecating aside, in the context of how he's listening to people more now because he's realized too many smart people just talk and it might be good to listen some.

So okay. Paul did say that, and he's admitting there was a time he didn't take the time to listen, but he's doing it in a sort of jokey way. I guess it's fair to say, generally, sure, Paul has a tendency to be headstrong and go his own way and that certainly would have been a factor in his psychological battle with Jim Mac over going to get his teaching license or whatever. It's not like Lewisohn is bending the facts of anything. It's not really a big deal. But it was the moment that clued me in that he's not necessarily using like for like. There's plenty of quotes about how Paul felt about this time in his life without using a joke from 1980 to shore up your point about his resistance to dad, in a paragraph that implies he's saying it about his resistance to dad. And when you've decide that "it just never occurred to me to listen to other people" can mean "and that's why he didn't listen to Jim about work, except this time he did," I don't know. It leaves a funny taste in my mouth because then you could use it for anything Paul decides to do differently. If that makes sense. If it applies there, it applies to anything Paul does. And Paul obviously didn't mean that in 1980.

Also maybe this is more nuanced, but while "Paul still hated anyone telling him what to do" is a true statement in any time in his life, that quote itself? Is neither necessarily relevant to being told what to do or very revealing. It actually is entirely unnecessary. The passage would be completely benign and throw me no red flags without it.

Like any of the points I make or, frankly, I've heard others make, it's less that he's saying untrue things and more that by using these citations in ways that remove them from context and add them to a different context, he is painting a picture but passing it off as fact. In addition, he often will use a quote from John's angry, Lennon Remembers period to interpret Paul's motives in the early 60s, rather than using, oh I dunno, a quote from.... Paul? Or a nicer quote from John when he's contradicted himself again? Again it's all legit sourcing and citing! But the contextualizing creates something he's selling as free of interpretation which is anything but.

The other one I've been thinking about is laid out quite well in I think episode 3 of the AKOM pod, and it's about Paul's creative development. While John's is described as original and a free spirit and rebellious in his artistic ambitions--which he was--Paul's artistic endeavors almost always come with a weasel word or caveat. What I mean is, John is always described as inventive; Paul is a gifted mimic. This despite a lot of attention paid to how John was basically copying his favorite cartoonists and artists--he even says at some point everything he does is Just William and Lewis Carroll. But somehow when he does it, it's extraordinary. He's got his own voice, while Paul is a talented parrot. Lewisohn gives props to all of Paul's many accomplishments but there's always either some kind of adjective like that to take away from it or this thing that creeps in where everything Paul does is for show. There are numerous places in Tune In where Paul is ostentatiously reading difficult books so he can be seen reading them. Anytime he's trying something new or going to explore a new art form or theater experience, Lewisohn has to point out that he wants to be seen to be doing something clever. When he writes songs, Lewisohn points out that he's not just writing songs, he's thinking about the image of being a writer or something like that. It's never because he's artistic, or likes the thing. He needs to be seen as someone liking the thing.

Now, we do have a quote from Paul about this. He does mention thinking about the image of a poet with the pipe and the leather patches, and he does at one point get a pipe and you know, famously pretend to be French to try to pull birds. (He does this again on that little week off he takes in France, years later, reminiscing about imagining he's a novelist in a cafe.) It's not that I'm saying Paul isn't capable of being pretentious! (I still have the beret I insisted on getting for my birthday when I was 16. I'm not immune. I still look great in it.) But Paul's, again, self-deprecating description of himself as a goofy teen appears to be the only 'proof' Lewisohn has that his reading, his art, his going to shows alone no one else cares about, is a pretense.

Again. It's not a huge deal and it's not like Paul didn't factually do all of this. It's that in a text that he's insisted in the front matter is free of speculation, Lewisohn's included numerous interpretations of Paul's (and others') motives without any direct proof/citation for those interpretations. That, I'm afraid, is speculative. And that's fine for an author to engage in--but he needs to be clear about it.

For the record he does this with John, too. He interprets numerous, sometimes almost contradictory actions of John's as "evidence" of his ability to lead. Sometimes he's like, in front and sometimes he's doing nothing and Lewisohn will conclude this was John also leading.

The point of all this isn't, like I said in my original post, that I think any one of these things is that bad. Paul's kinda pretentious? Maybe sometimes he did like to be seen reading War and Peace or whatever? Maybe John sitting back and watching what his mates are going to do is leadership? The problem, for me, is that it's not presented in a way that meets the premise of Lewisohn's introduction, which promises a work free of the prejudices and unsubstantiated speculation of his forebears. And I really do think that Lewisohn has convinced himself that he's done enough research and been a keen enough "Paul watcher" that it no longer counts as interpretation. I fear he may actually believe that he's done the math.

Again, I think you should read it. I loved the attention to detail and you'll get a lot out of it. But just be aware of this tendency, which I no longer think I'm imagining. And these are just the first two things I thought of and wanted to rant about.

#oh man thank you so much for enabling me #you don't know how great it feels to get to just babble about my thoughts lol #i'm really touched that whoever you are thinks my opinion is even worthy!!#kris reads tune in #kris talks a lot #tune in anon #anon asks

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nbmudkip · 2 years

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audrey or

reigen

lucky for you this ask sent twice so im doing both. audrey time

favorite thing about them: probably how loyal and dedicated she is when she sets her mind to something. if she believes something is the best course of action, or if she believes in a certain value or a certain person or anything, she WILL fight tooth and nail to make it happen, to make others recognize it, to protect them. honestly, she’s a born protector, a champion of the people who got steered a ways off track. i really respect her stubbornness (and see a lot of myself in it)

least favorite thing about them: kind of a different side of the same coin deal. when she makes up her mind, its made up; she is going to be very poorly receptive to even the slightest bit of resistance. her mind handles doubt and dissent kind of like how the voidfish handles fragments of things that were erased, where it molds the mind into not even noticing a problem; she’ll go to lengths of truth-bending, hypocrisy, and straight up denial in order to preserve her belief that she is correct. she refuses to doubt herself, which makes it difficult for her to learn and grow until things become dangerously extreme

favorite line: “This is MY STORY! EVERYTHING THAT EXISTS is at stake! How DARE you try to take that for yourself!” its just. it perfectly exemplifies how her desperation brewed hypocrisy yknow? yeah, everything that exists is at stake, but she’s the one working to destroy it

brOTP: i have a whole thing in my head i never bothered to iron out or write where ash finds her being kind of pathetic and lonely postgame and reaches out a hand to her and they become close. hell if im gonna write it out now though sorry. i also love kiwi/miri/audrey postgame enemies to friends arc, but i think kiwi and miriam probably remain closer to each other than either of them are to her

OTP: i don’t really ship her with anyone. audriam can be cute when done right but i usually prefer kiwiam

nOTP: i don’t really like her and eyala paired together, or eyala paired with anyone, really. eyala is a divine being who’s existed for millenia, and through the way she interacts with both the game’s characters and talks about the current reality, it’s clear that she has a sort of…detachment from it all that thoroughly separates her experiences and emotional responses from that of mortals. i don’t think her being in a romantic relationship with someone who is apparently such a small insignificant blip in the eternity of her existence would be healthy for either of them

random headcanon: the sword’s lightning actually scarred her hand due to overuse. her right hand is a patchy mess. she always keeps it covered up, and they make her upset, because they remind her of a really desperate and hopeless time in her life. also, they throb terribly whenever she ends up seeing kiwi or miriam’s lightning scars

unpopular opinion: i really, truly think she was doing what she thought was best for the world, yknow? she has a one track mind and was trying to follow the path of what that one track had been convinced was the right thing to do. of course, it wasn’t the right thing to do, and of course, she has to come to that realization, apologize, and accept responsibility for what she did, or else she’ll never be able to move forward. but i really, truly don’t think she was operating out of pride and malice. i think she was operating out of a combination of desperation for approval and a need to adhere to the guidelines she set for herself

song i associate with them: under my skin by jukebox the ghost

favorite picture of them: forgive me for picking a non-canon image but it’s gotta be this one by @vulpineprince

#answered #ask #fordcrullerselfship #vera #audrey redheart

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professorrw · 3 years

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Don't Fake It

marvel masterlist

Pairing: female reader x Peter Quill

Request: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. Then after, she apologizes for faking it and it gets kinda fluffy because hes like “hey, its not good for me if you’re not having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if i’m that desperate.”

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, faking an orgasm, protected sex, rough sex

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Sleep was calling your name, digging its claws into you and dragging you into the dark depths of slumber. But there was something stopping it. That thing was Peter. He was wide awake and his sex drive was in full throttle. You weren’t feeling up to it though. The long day at work had taken a toll on you, and the only thing you wanted to do was go to sleep.

You loved Peter, everything about him. You didn’t want to deny him sex, especially when he was being so sweet about it. Your back was to him so he could cuddle you while you slept, but he started to kiss your shoulders and the part of your back that was exposed by your tank top.

“Mmm what is it baby?” you asked groggily.

“I want you,” he replied unashamedly. You could feel Quill shifting his weight behind you. He was peering over your shoulder, trying to look at you. He had missed you all day and you were finally home. What he didn’t know was that you were tired, and not in the mood.

“Oh really?” you mumbled.

“Mhm, I missed you today.” You couldn’t see him but by his sweet tone of voice you could tell that he was sticking his bottom lip out and giving you puppy dog eyes. You smiled and turned around, cupping his face in your hands.

"You know you're adorable right?" you teased.

He smiled, "I know, that's why you can't resist all of this." He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh. He was just too cute. You didn't want to tell him no.

When you stopped laughing he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss quickly elevated, his hand snaking up your tight shirt and pressing heat against your lower abdomen. While your eyes were closed, sleep called your name once more, but you ignored it.

Peter pulled back for a minute and reached over to the night stand. He grabbed a condom and pulled his boxers down and put it on, tossing the wrapper back onto the table. He switched positions and crawled on top of you. His face drew closer and he kissed you while he pulled down your sweat shorts.

He got the lube too and squirted some on his covered dick and rubbed the leftovers around near your entrance. With dick in hand he guided his length into you, easing it in as to not hurt you. He let out a long sigh when he got to moving. At least he was feeling good, you thought. Peter was making you feel good too, but you were so tired that if it weren't for the movement you would have fallen asleep.

The pleasure wasn't building like it usually did. You wanted to cum, you wanted to show Peter that he was doing a good job. But you weren't feeling it, and you knew you weren't going to cum. You didn't want to hurt Peter's feelings so as he reached his peak speed and his head lolled back you moaned extra loud, "I'm gonna cum!"

"Me too," he groaned back. His hips pounded into you and his balls slapped against you as he came in his condom. You kept on moaning a little, acting like you had actually cum too.

Peter slowed then pulled out. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to the bathroom to clean up. He went to take his condom off and realized there was no cum on the outside of it. You said you had cum, but there wasn't anything other than lube on there. Quill didn't want to assume you had faked it, but he didn't want to ask right away either.

He threw the condom away and went back to your bedroom. You were already out cold, and when Peter saw he sighed and crawled into bed, completely dejected. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t make you cum, and a little annoyed that you wouldn’t just tell him. But he let those thoughts drift away so he could fall asleep.

The next morning you woke up early for work again. Peter was still asleep so you didn’t wake him and instead went about your morning routine. Three minutes before you needed to leave you wrote a little note on the refrigerator for him, “I hope you slept well hunny, I’ve already left for work by the time you wake up but I just wanted to say I love you and I’ll see you later <3”

About an hour later Quill rolled out of bed and dragged himself into the kitchen. He wasn’t a morning person by any means. The coffee machine beeped and he pushed himself off of the counter to pour himself a cup. He set his mug down on the counter and went to the refrigerator to get milk and creamer. Your note, which he noticed just then, made him stop mid pull. He shut the refrigerator and took the note off so he could get a better look at it. A tired smile spread on his face.

Then he remembered last night. It was odd that there wasn’t anything on his condom, and you didn’t get up to clean yourself off right after he did. Now that he thought about it, you went straight to sleep. How unusual. He pushed the thought aside and decided he would bring it up later. It wasn’t making him mad, but he was a little wounded that you had faked it, or if you even did fake it.

Lucky for you, work was slow and you got off early. On the way home you picked up lunch for you and Peter. It was in a way an apology for your tiredness last night and faking your orgasm, whether he knew about it or not.

Keys jingling together you unlock the door and step in with takeout in hand. “Quill I’m home!” you shout.

He power walks out of the bedroom and just about tackles you into a bear hug. You giggle and kiss his stubbled cheek. “I missed you,” you say into his ear.

“I missed you moooore,” he replies. “How was work?”

“Better than yesterday, I’ll tell you that. Plus I got off early, so that’s even better. I get to spend more time with you.” You kiss his cheek again and he smiles before setting you back down. The food gets set on the kitchen counter and you pull out the chinese you got. You hand Peter his usual order and take out your own.

There’s only the quiet sound of eating for a few minutes before Peter says something. “Y/N I need to ask you something.”

You look over at him. He rarely calls you by your first name. That means he’s being serious. “What is it?”

He wants to ask about your orgasm but you’re right in the middle of eating and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. He can just ask later, he thinks to himself. He thinks of something else to ask and quickly thinks of, “Can you pass me some soy sauce?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but hand him a few packs and go back to eating.

Later that night, a few hours later, you were laying in bed doing nothing in particular. Thoughts of last night were filling both your heads. Peter was set on trying to ask you about it, and you were set on trying to make up for it.

The both of you were sitting up in bed and you set your phone down on your bedside table and leaned over. You set a hand on Peter’s bare chest and he instantly stopped what he was doing. His eyes shot to yours, a sly smile on your face. He could tell exactly what it was you wanted.

“Peter,” you whispered against his lips. Your mouth was an inch away from his and your eyes were drifting between his and his lips. He parted his mouth and leaned forward, capturing you before you could make a move. You were trying to take the lead, but he wasn’t letting you.

He overpowered you, flipping you around and putting you on your knees. His bulge was against your ass and he was rubbing circles against it. The intensity he was showing was like nothing before. Whatever it was that was riling him up you needed to find out. It would have to wait until later though, because your panties being dragged down your thighs was the only thing you could think of.

A condom and lube had already been taken out of the drawer, and Peter was putting them on. The room was silent other than the rustling of sheets and your heart hammering in your chest. Then there was the squirting of the lube and you knew it was about to come. The cold goo was smeared on your folds and slightly inside of them by Quill’s rough fingers.

His tip, covered by a condom, was right at your entrance in a second, and in just one more, it was inside you. Your whole body was pushed forward with the force that Peter was thrusting. You were moaning and panting, and he was smiling between his own groans. His goal was to make sure you never had to fake an orgasm again. And with the way things were going you wouldn’t need to.

“Oh- Oh my god!” The way he was slamming into you was so quick and hard the pressure inside of you was building like a balloon being blown up.

His hands were holding you and keeping you from falling over. If they weren’t you would have smacked into the headboard. You couldn’t stay on your hands any longer, you dropped to your elbows, back making a beautiful arch for Quill.

The unbearable speed was tiring Quill out, but it was also making his orgasm come even quicker. He grabbed your shoulders, giving himself even more leverage to thrust with.

Your knees were trembling, jelly below you. But you wouldn’t have to hold that position for much longer. That balloon inside you popped like too much air had been blown into it. Your walls clenched around Peter’s cock, and the cum he was searching for yesterday covered his condom. He kept his pace, legs killing him and pelvis hitting your ass.

He let out a loud groan, and cum leaked and squirted from his tip. He let go of your shoulders, seeing a red handprint there. He pulled out of you, your cum dribbling out when he did. He smiled, satisfied that he had done what he set out to do.

Your lower half ached and you all but collapsed onto your pillows. You flipped over and saw Peter above you, buttcheeks against the heels of his feet and catching his breath. You laughed just a little and he opened his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“That was something else,” you admitted with a smile.

“Good.” He crawled onto his stomach and laid next to you with his head on his arms. You scooted over closer to him, laying on your back with your hands set on your stomach.

“Y/N,” he sat up, “last night,” he started.

“I already know what you’re going to say. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was just super tired last night and I didn’t want to deny you.” You looked down at your stomach but Peter turned your face back to his with his thumb.

“It’s okay, really. I’m sorry I didn’t catch that you weren’t in the mood. If you ever don’t want to do stuff just tell me okay? I won’t be upset. Besides, it’s not good for me if you aren’t having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if I get that desperate.” He waved his right hand and grinned.

You giggled, “I promise I won’t do it again.”

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spencer-van-sunshine · 2 years

Text

Not my fault

Billy Russo x reader

Warnings: smut (18+ or I will block) the is literally just porn. Boot worship, breath play, dom! Billy, dirty talk, sir kink, kind of mirror stuff but not completely, one photo taken. Just don’t read if your not into it

Tbh, I didn’t have any intention on posting this but a couple friends on discord wanted me to do I hope y’all enjoy. Also this was inspired by this gif and this gif only @thewritingdoll

You weren’t really sure how you got to your current position. Well, you knew how, but it wasn’t your fault. If someone were to ask Billy, he’d say it’s your fault but they way you saw it, it was his. He woke up late, which means he didn’t have time to make you cum before he went to work, which he did every morning. So you happened to be horny, which led you to moaning his name with a vibrator pressed to your core. And it’s his fault he came home early. But despite who’s fault it was, here you were, on your knees with Billy’s belt tight around your throat, and shoe cleaning supplies next to you.

“God, look at you. Ya know this is supposed to be punishment, so don’t think I’m gonna give you what you want automatically,” His voice sounded the way dark whisky tasted and all it did was excite you more, “here’s how this is gonna go, you’re going to clean my boots, and maybe, just maybe I’ll let you cum on my fingers, but there ain’t no way in hell your getting my cock today.”

You had seen Billy clean his boots before, he was alway a very particularly clean man, and every part of his wardrobe needed to reflect that. As you picked up the soft bristled brush, you could see Billy smirking down at you and with a small nod of his head you got to work. With tender strokes of the brush on leather, the loose flecks on dust and dirt came off.

Next was the damp washcloth, just to get any extra dirt. At least that was Billy told you when you asked him the first time you saw him doing it. You remember clear at day, mainly because it was the morning after Billy first fucked you. The memory brought a small on your face which caused Billy to tug at the end of his belt, well the end that wasn’t wrapped around your neck. “Look at you, smiling while cleaning my boots. You seem to be enjoying this more than you should. Maybe I’ll have to add some more punishment.”

“M’sorry, sir.” You quickly apologize to Billy knowing that if he has to add more, you definitely won’t be cuming.

“No you ain’t, you’ll show me how sorry you when you finish, so hurry up baby doll.” A wicked grin was plastered on his face and you swapped the wet cloth for a dry cotton one. While opening the small can of shoe polish, you glanced up at Billy to try to figure out what he was gonna make you next but his stoic look gave nothing away. And while administering the polish in slow, circular motions, you began to see the lights reflection off the shiny leather. It was the tell tale sign that you were done.

“I’m finished sir.” you go to stand but Billy’s freshly cleaned combat pushes on your shoulder to knock you back on your knees.

“Good girl, but it’s still missing one more thing. I want you to kiss it,” He flashed his devilish grin, that one he knew you just couldn’t resist, “I want you to bend down, ass in air, and kiss my boot, show me how much you love me.”

Doing what he said, you started with the left, your lips pressed small pecks by each eyelet, and you could feel your self getting wetter with each touch of your lips. The faint smell of gasoline from the polish invaded your nose when you reach the toe of his boot. And as you pressed the last kiss to his left, you see Billy’s eyes focused behind you, and that when you remember the full length mirror he kept there.

“Look at my baby doll,” you look up to see him smiling, eyes still not on you, “I can see how wet you are, I can’t believe this is turning you on. Had I known how much you liked this I would’ve made you do this months ago.”

His words seems to only make you want to please him more. As you switched to the right boot, and start repeating the process, you see Billy take out his phone. You ignore it as it wasn’t uncommon for him to take pictures of you in situations like these. When you press the last kiss to the toe of his boot, you hear the click of Billy’s camera phone. He pulls you back to your knees with his belt and bends down close to you.

“If you ever break one of my rules agains, we’ll use your cum to shine my boots, got it?”

#billy russo #the punisher #billy russo x reader #billy russo smut #idk what other tags to use #go wild

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

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Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”

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spideykaiparker · 3 years

Text

Embarrassing Encounters

Peter Parker x fem!reader

warning(s) : slight smut, some fluff

summary : peter has a girlfriend that Tony doesn't know about, one day, when Tony was visiting peter, he found an interesting item in his room.

authors note : yeah, i don't know about this, i think this is so bad, but i like the plot so I'm gonna post this, i apologize if this is bad. i wasn't in the mood to write a full smut, so i left it at that, I'm really sorry if you're disappointed.

happy reading! ^_^

Peter was just studying in his room, because you were out with your friends, so he got bored and decided to catch up on some work, because spidey was really holding him back from his studies. his room was a mess, mainly because he was always too tired after patrolling to clean his room.

suddenly the door opened and in comes Tony Stark himself. "hey pete, can i borrow your suit for a while? i have some adjustments i need to make" he said while looking around peter's room.

"w-what? how'd you get in the apartment?

"May let me in" he answered simply, walking towards his desk

"you can't be in here, here, I'll go find the suit while you wait outside" peter was scared Tony would find something he wasn't supposed to see.

"why? what's the matter? can't i just take a look around my protégé's room?" he said, looking around with his hands behind his back.

"well y-you can, but I'd like my p-privacy" peter answered while shifting nervously.

"I'm just here for a little while anyways, so you can go find your suit, while i have a look around your room"

"fine" then he immediately moved to find his suit, wanting Tony to be out of his room as quick as possible.

while he was searching for his suit, Tony just looked around, looking at the posters he put on the walls. his room looked like a typical teenage boy's room.

"—hey pete?"

"yeah?"

"how old are you?"

"I'm 18, why?" peter answered, still searching for his suit.

"do you have a girlfriend by any chance? 'cause if you don't, then this is pretty creepy" Tony asked while picking up a red lacy bra, holding it infront of his face, looking at it with amusement evident on his face.

peter immediately stopped looking, and turned around so fast, he thought his head was going to come off. his eyes widened, looking at the item infront of tony's face, horror evident on his face.

he immediately sprinted towards tony, snatching the bra from his hands, throwing it in his closet.

"t-that's none of your business" he found his suit laying near his bed, he picked it up "here's the suit", he said handing Tony the suit, then pushing tony out of his room, face sporting a bright shade of red.

Tony didn't said anything, deciding to bring it up later on, but the amusement and disbelief was still evident on his face.

when Tony was out of his room, peter slammed the door and leaned against it, sighing, slowly sliding down, holding his face in his hands.

peter couldn't believe that just happened, that was probably the most embarrassing thing that happened in his life.

eventually peter got up, still feeling embarrassed, but pushed the feelings away, then continued on studying.

the next day, you came over to peter's apartment to have a study date, because you were also a bit behind on your studies, but unlike peter, who was behind because of spidey, you were behind because you were just a bit lazy. so you both decided to have a study date.

"u-um so, you know how you left your bra the last time you were here?" peter started nervously.

"oh yeah, i was looking for that, why? did you do anything with it?" you said while smirking.

"uh, not really, but Mr. Stark... kinda found your bra?" peter replied unsurely. you widened your eyes.

"what? what do you mean by kinda?"

"i mean he was here the other day, and was snooping around my room, then he found your bra...?"

"oh my god, why didn't you put it somewhere safe?!" you exclaimed, embarrassed by the fact that Tony Stark found your bra.

"i was going to! but he came over before i got the chance to clean my room!"

"ugh.. i can't believe this" you said while dragging your hands down your face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, please forgive me, I'll do anything, just please forgive me" he pleaded

truth is, you already forgave him, i mean, what's done is done, you can't do anything about it now. but you still want him to think you're mad at him.

"...anything?"

"yes!" he nearly jumped out of his seat, exclaiming.

"okay then, you're going watch 2 seasons of The Originals with me" you said while smirking.

"what?!" he saw you pouting at him, "okay okay, fine, anything for you" he continued, pulling you into a tight hug, his hands on the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said softly, caressing the back of your head, then kissing your forehead. "right, so now let's study"

the both of you began studying, but while studying, peter can't stop looking at your lips, how you bite your lips when there's a question that you can't solve, he can't resist it any longer, wanting to just plant his lips against yours.

eventually peter got tired of that, and deciding to just smash his lips against yours, the kiss got heated almost immediately.

both of you manuvered across the bed, while still kissing, eventually ending up with peter sitting against the headboard, and you straddling him.

the kiss was really messy, tongues intertwining, fighting for dominance, where eventually peter won, teeth clashing against each other.

your hands finding its way to his curls, tugging on it slightly, he moans softly against your mouth, while his arms wrapped around your waist, caressing your back, touching every inch of your back he could reach.

one of your hand slid down against his chest, taking off his shirt, then continuing its way to his pants, going inside of it, and taking him in your hands, your hands gently begin massaging his hard member in his underwear, slowly sliding it up and down his length. he moans against your mouth again, hips bucking up to your touch.

while you were playing with his hard member, his hands slid down to your ass, tightly gripping it through the material of your shorts. then his hands went inside, caressing your ass. now it's your turn to moan against his mouth.

you continued to stroke him in his underwear, while your other hand was buried in his hair. his hips bucking up against you, while you slightly grind against his thighs. you both moaned against each others mouths.

"a-ah Y/N that feels so good" he moaned against your mouth, too lost in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him. your hand that was in his hair slightly tilted his head to the side, to give your mouth easier access to his neck, placing kisses there, leaving marks.

"—so you do have a girlfriend" you both froze, immediately turning your heads towards the door. there, standing in all his glory, Tony Stark himself, leaning against the door, arms crossed, amusement clear on his face, with his eyebrows raised.

both of you immediately pushed away from each other, peter scrambling to find his t-shirt. peter took back the words he thought yesterday about the most embarrassing moment in his life, no, this was the most embarrassing moment in his life.

"Mr. Stark! what are you doing here?!" peter exclaimed, while you just hid behind him, too embarrassed to face Tony.

"well, i finished the adjustments on your suit, and i was going to hand it back to you myself, because coincidentally, i had some business to do around here, but i see that you're a little busy there"

"ugh! okay, whatever," he took the suit case from Tony, "you can go now" he exasperated.

"yeah okay, by the way, you have a really pretty girlfriend over there pete, don't lose her, and why didn't you told me you had a girlfriend? geez i thought we were closer than that pete" Tony said, faking a sad expression.

"because i knew you were going to be like this" peter answered, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"okay, well, I'm already late, so I'm going now," he said walking away, "oh, and don't forget to wear protection, okay?" he clicked his tongue, winking.

when he was out of sight, you hit peter on the arm, "why didn't you lock the door!?" you exclaimed.

"ouch! i thought it was locked!

"now you're gonna have to do more than just watching the originals with me!" you said, still hitting him

"okay okay! what is it?!" he replied, while trying to dodge your hits.

"hmm.. I'm going to wax your legs!"

"what?! no! anything but that!" he saw you with a look on your face that said 'are you sure about that?' "okay okay, fine" he sighed, looking down.

"again, I'm really sorry okay?" he said while looking at you with huge puppy eyes, practically begging you to forgive him.

"tch yeah yeah, but you're still gonna watch the originals with me and still going to let me wax your legs"

"okay..." he said while looking down.

"c'mon, let's continue studying now," you pulled at his arms, heading to the desk

"i have a better idea than that" you looked at him, confused, "let's continue what Mr. Stark interrupted earlier" he continued, looking at you with lust evident in his eyes.

"hmm.. i don't know.." you teased, but the truth is, you were more than willing to continue what was interrupted earlier.

"oh come here you" he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest, kissing you deeply.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Anniversary

This is written for my dear friend @just-one-ordinary-fangirl's 1000 followers challenge. Congrats on such a huge milestone! I used the prompt "Oh, honey, what on Earth were you thinking"

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - You try to cook for your future husband and fail miserably. But there are other ways you can make it up to him 👀

Warnings - 18+ only please. Explicit sexual content, daddy kink, deep throat.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 1.4k

You huffed out a breath, some flour that was stuck on your upper lip along with it, pushing the strand on your forehead behind your ear with the back of your hand, although you were pretty sure they were already completely covered in flour and what not.

You sniffled as you looked at the state of your kitchen, fighting back tears because you literally had one job and you couldn’t even get that right.

“I’m so useless...” you mumbled.

Usually Andy was the one to do the cooking and you’d just ‘help' by hugging him from behind--because it was really nice to feel his hard back and butt pressed up against you--or by snacking on whatever he was cooking or tasting his food and giving him pointers. Either that or you both would just order in.

But now you were engaged.

You had a brand new solitaire on your hand and you had to work on being a good wife. How had to gone almost thirty years without knowing how to do something so basic and essential?

Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a meal as tough as a chicken pot pie but that was Andy’s favorite and you wanted to do something special for your anniversary. Pasta or spaghetti doesn’t exactly scream effort or I love you. It’s not like you’d be very good at that either. You didn’t even know how to properly boil an egg.

Because you were too busy wallowing in your self pity, you didn’t even hear Andy come in and yell out his customary “Honey, I’m home.”

You snapped your head up at him when you heard him call out your name. Placing his bag on your marble counter he examined the mess you had made and then you.

“Oh, honey, what on earth were you thinking?” he cooed. Not angry in the slightest but rather sympathetic. Especially when he saw how watery your eyes were and how dejected you looked.

He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm after placing a tender kiss to your forehead. He never let you even touch the stove and for a very good reason. “Why is my princess so upset?” he asked. Although he had an idea why.

He pulled away, taking your hands in his to check for any injuries and make sure that you were okay.

“I wanted to do something special for you,” you mumbled, playing with a button on his shirt, “But it all went wrong and so fast. Even though I followed the darn instructions!” you whined, resisting the urge to stomp your feet.

He sighed, pecking your lips, “You take such good care of me, sweetheart.”

“No, I don’t,” you puffed your cheeks like a little chipmunk, “I’ve never cooked for you and I don’t know how to make you feel special.”

“You make me feel special and loved just by being with me,” he smiled, kissing your knuckles. “Now, how about you and me go out for dinner? Would that be an okay way to spend our anniversary?”

“Um, did you get me anything?” you asked. If he hadn’t that maybe you wouldn’t feel terribly guilty about ruining your gift to him.

“I sure did, honey. I would never forget,” he said with a stupidly handsome grin, so proud of himself. You would usually throw a fit if he hadn't but right now he was being annoying.

“Andy,” you frowned. “I put all my eggs in one basket. I didn’t get you anything! I’m such a bad girlfriend.”

“Fiancé,” he corrected. He didn’t like it when you forgot even if it was just a mistake. “This,” he said, tracing the ring on your finger, “means that you belong to me, Mrs Barber. And don’t you forget it.”

You gulped at the dominance in his voice, “Yes daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praised, cupping your cheek as you leaned into his touch. “You being mine is more than enough for me. But if you really want to make it up to me.... you know what to do,” he hummed, pushing his thumb inside your mouth.

“What?” you blinked, feigning innocence and pretending that you didn’t notice his hard length pressing into your hip.

“You can try to take my dick down your throat,” he told you, now pushing two of his fingers in your mouth to prep you.

“I’ll try,” you said but it came out a bit incoherent since your mouth was full.

It also earned you a slap to your ass, making you jump and yelp around his fingers. “You’ll have to do better than that sweetheart. You’re getting spoiled. Maybe I’ll return the present I got for you.”

“No no,” you frantically shook your head, “I’ll do it, daddy, promise,” you swore, holding out your pinky.

He was nice enough to bring you to the living room and giving you a pillow to kneel on while he sat back against the couch.

“It’s not gonna suck itself, sweetheart,” he said as you mumbled out an apology and started working in unbuckling his belt and unzipping him with shaky hands.

You had let him use your mouth plenty of times, but he was just so big. Bigger than any man you had ever been with. You could barely get half his length in your mouth. And while he encouraged you to take as much of him as you could he was understanding when you couldn’t. And mostly desperate to get his own mouth on you.

You licked your lips when you pulled out his pulsating manhood, “So big,” you wondered out loud, scared of what it’ll do to your poor throat.

“It’s okay, honey. You can take it in your pussy, so you can take it in your mouth too if you try hard enough.” His patience running thin as he pushed you towards it.

You could barely take it in your pussy. Andy would literally have to prepare you and use lube. As good as it was, it left you with a delicious ache and sometimes wobbly for days.

You sucked on his tip, moaning at the sweet and salty taste of pre ejaculate leaking out as your hands fondled his balls.

“It’s yummy,” you looking up at him, licking your lips of the cummies smeared on them.

“If you make daddy happy you’ll get even more of it,” he promised, pushing your head down his length, “Open wide,” he instructed.

And you followed like the good girl that you were, taking as much of him as you could till he hit the back of your throat, making you gag and cough around him when he tried to push you even further.

He traced a thumb over the imprint of his dick on your throat, “Try to relax your throat a bit, sweetheart. Can you do that for daddy?” He asked, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

You nodded as he pushed you even further down, and despite your coughing and sputtering you took all of him till your nose touched the soft curls at the base of his cock.

You swallowed around him, moaning which he pinched your nipple through your shirt.

“I love it when you do that,” he groaned. Almost coming then and there when you swallowed around him. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he said as he held onto the back of your head. Lifting his hips off the couch he slowly fucked up into your warm mouth, his balls tightening when he saw you drooling around him.

You made sure to swallow every last bit of daddy’s cum, heaving and taking in some much needed oxygen when he finally let you go.

“Show me, honey,” he ordered. You opened your mouth to show him that you swallowed all of it.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Where’s my gift?” you asked eagerly.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, pinching your nose.

He showed you the box of designer heels he had got for you. You had been asking him for them for weeks and he was hesitant because they were so expensive and you had more than enough shoes.

You squealed loud enough for the whole block to hear, hugging him tightly and smiling so fondly at him when he put them on your feet. As if you were Cinderella.

“You like ‘em?” he looked up at you.

“I love them. Thank you, daddy.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#joof500challenge #andy barber #chris evans x reader #andy barber x oc #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x reader #defending jacob fic #defending jacob fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Adult Swim, Part 2 of 3 {Charlie Barber x virgin!Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! happy fourth of july to everyone celebrating. here’s part two of “adult swim” :) things are heating up, y’all!

warnings: smut. some fluff. making out. nose kink oops. over-the-clothes touching & oral (f receiving). handjob. some grinding. thigh-fucking.

(possible) tw’s: age difference. infidelity/extramarital affair. semi-public smut.

table of contents pt. one pt. two * pt. three

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

(can we just take a moment of silence, dedicated to the masterpiece that is adam driver’s/charlie barber’s side profile? *drools*)

July.

You’ve come to dread Fourth of July weekend ever since you became a lifeguard. Although it’s a fun celebration, the pool stayed open much later than normal for the whole weekend, which meant that you had to work longer hours.

Sure, you liked cashing the overtime paycheck, and you always managed to get a few free meals out of the deal thanks to community members, but it was hard work.

Luckily, this year, you had Charlie to help you through the long days. You couldn’t actually see him, not properly anyway, but he did come over and chat with you a few times for a bit while Nicole watched with a suspicious glare.

Rain clouds have shrouded the sun’s warm glow and a bolt of lightening streaks across the gray sky, followed by a clap of thunder that rumbles the Earth. Everyone is forced to get out of the pool and sit under the covered patios until the rain and storm have passed over.

You’re making your way towards the lifeguard’s lounge when a large hand holds your shoulder, effectively stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to look at who the hand is connected to, you smile.

“Mr. Barber.” You say, politely.

He nods. “Coach. Do you need to, uh...check on anything in the storage area?”

The breath catches in your throat as he looks into your eyes, sending a chill down your spine. You know what that look means...

“Now that you mention it, the manager asked me to check on the cleaning supply stock...” You say, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You’re more than welcome to join me, if you’d like.”

He looks over his shoulder, happy to see that Nicole is deep in conversation with a group of other moms.

“You had me at ‘now that you mention it’, coach.”

The two of you scurry off to the back storage area, which is basically just a cage with a roof, and Charlie immediately pins you against the wall. He kisses your neck while he grinds his pelvis against your lower stomach.

You move to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, but he stops you. You look up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Wanna fuck your thighs today, coach.” He breathes against your neck. “Turn around and keep your legs together for me, alright?”

Nodding, you flip yourself around so that your front is now pressed up against the cage, making sure to keep your thighs together. You look over your shoulder as he begins untying his swim trunks.

“No peeking, Y/N. You know the rules: you’re not allowed to see me until I spread your legs and take your virginity.”

Your head turns back to its normal position and you hear him stroking himself behind you. You want nothing more than to see his cock, touch it, appreciate it; but alas, he won’t allow it.

His small grunts and groans are more erotic than they ought to be and you can feel the slick beginning to dampen your folds. He's standing at full attention, now, and he takes a step forward to press himself up against you.

Your breath hitches as his thick length slides between your thighs, earning a small breathy grunt from the large man behind you. He lets out a shaky sigh before drawing back, then snapping his hips forward again.

“O-Oh, coach.” He breathes into your ear, hands planting next to the top of your head on either side. “Thaaaaaat’s good, so good.”

His little grunts and groans are music to your ears and, mixed with the smack-smack-smack of his skin colliding with yours, it’s an erotic symphony.

“We’ve gotta h-hurry. Storm’s gonna pass over s-soon.” You whisper.

Charlie nods, increasing his thrusting rhythm two-fold. He pants into your ear, one hand sliding down from the wall to wrap around your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck your little virgin cunt so hard.” He growls, reaching down to grab your hip. “Gonna f-fuck you just like this, coach. Right after your pussy stretches out around my cock, I’m gonna fuck you nice and h-hard, make you cum.”

You moan, biting your lip. “C-Charlie...fuck.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh, Y/N, I’m c-close. Gonna cum--” His hips come to an abrupt halt and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums, a low groan muffled against your skin.

Your head tilts down just in time to see the liquid ropes erupt from between your legs and you can feel the way his length pulses before each rope shoots out.

He’s panting against your neck, planting the occasional open-mouthed kisses on your skin as he catches his breath. Once he regains control of his breathing, he tucks himself back into his swim trunks and turns you around, holding your hips.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to make you cum, coach. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No apology necessary, Charlie. I still had a good time, regardless. You know I like helping you get off.”

Charlie bends down and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, laughing softly when your face crinkles up. “You’re the best. Now, you should probably get back out there before anyone gets suspicious. I’ll hang back for a bit, have a cigarette or something.”

“See you soon, C.” You say before heading towards the door.

“You’ve never used that one before, coach.” He says, causing you to turn around.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It just sorta slipped out. Sorry.”

“No need.” His lips tug up into a smile. “I kinda like it.”

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

The union between Charlie and Nicole has been noticeably shaken and strained as of late, you’ve noticed. You wonder if she somehow found out about you and Charlie.

Ever since the first private swim lesson, you and Charlie have been rendezvousing under the starlight on a weekly basis. Sure, there’s been some swimming involved, but it usually doesn’t last very long. He can’t keep his hands off you for more than about fifteen minutes at a time when you’re together.

It’s not just the physical connection; you and Charlie have incredibly compatible personalities, too. You get along really well and there’s a lot of natural chemistry between the two of you. You find yourself counting the minutes until the pool closes on lesson days, count the seconds until Charlie walks through the gate.

Tonight, you’re already in the pool when Charlie arrives, practicing your own technique. He sets his bag down on one of the loungers and watches as you make your way back down the lane in backstroke. He can’t help but look at your breasts, he’s got the perfect angle to look down your suit...

You flip back over and pull the goggles up over your head, smiling as you swim up and pull yourself onto the side of the pool.

“Hey, C.”

He smirks, walking over and jumping into the pool, swimming up to you with just his eyes above the surface. You giggle as he grabs hold of your ankles and lifts them up, forcing your upper body to fall back against the pool deck.

“Good evening, coach.”

His lips kiss and nibble at your ankle bones before trailing up your leg. Your skin erupts in goosebumps as his kisses draw closer and closer to your clothed center, which has already begun to heat up from his actions.

Your eyes never break away from his as he sucks at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, just at the hem of your bathing suit bottoms. You suck in a sharp breath when his nose lightly drags across your crotch, and his eyebrows raise.

“What was that, coach?” He asks, grinning to himself. “Did you...like something that I did, in particular?”

You’ve always sort of had a thing for Charlie’s nose, you have no idea why you found something so not traditionally sexy attractive, but now all you’re thinking about is how lovely it’d feel to have his nose bumping against your clit as he eats you out.

“Um, w-well, I--”

His nose swipes back over your crotch, cutting you off and replacing the rest of your response with a gasp. He grins wickedly.

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” A low chuckle escapes his lips.

He does it again, and again, nose dragging against your damp crotch. You’re practically dripping by now, the feeling and sight of him rubbing against you is simultaneously too much and not enough.

“Charlie...” You breathe, chewing your lip.

His finger comes up and teases your entrance over your suit, pushing some of the fabric in before letting it snap back into place. Your legs instinctively fall open further at his movements, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth hovers over your clothed crotch.

He looks up at you, then. “You’re gonna cum just like this, coach, or you’re not gonna cum at all. Understood?”

You nod. “Y-Yes, Mr. Barber.”

The formality, the seeming innocence of that name always seems to drive him crazy and he grunts, quickly diving in. The tip of his aquiline nose swipes all around your covered folds while his lips and hot breath teases your center.

You’re embarrassingly close already, both the sights and sensations being created between your legs impossible to resist. You simply can’t bring yourself to peel your eyes away as he continues to bring you closer and closer to a soft release.

“Are you close already?” He asks with a smirk, eyes meeting yours.

Before you can respond, his finger presses up against your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and swirling around. You gasp at the feeling, hips naturally pushing down against him in an attempt to encourage him deeper inside.

“Mmm, look at that. You want to be filled so badly, don’t you, coach?” Charlie says, voice low. “You’re so fucking desperate, trying to impale your little virgin cunt further on my finger. You want someone else’s fingers shoved up your pussy, want to cum on fingers other than your own, isn’t that right?”

You nod, chewing your lip while your hips gyrate against his touch. “Y-Yeah, I want i-it.”

His finger pushes up just a little bit more, bathing suit fabric stretching as it’s shoved up inside your quivering arousal. Your back arches and your breath catches in your throat at his movement, suddenly thrust to the edge of climax.

“Charlie...” You breathe. “Please.”

He grins cockily, circling his fingertip inside you while he mouths at your clit and scrapes his teeth across the clothed bud. You cum only a few moments later, groaning shakily as your hips jerk erratically.

Once you’ve ridden it out completely, Charlie pulls away and covers your inner thighs in kisses. You sit up and run your hands through his hair, smiling down at him.

“You’re incredible.”

Charlie smiles, tugging your legs, encouraging you into the shallow water. “C’mere, let me kiss you.”

You allow yourself to slide down into the water, reaching up to wrap your arms around the back of his neck as his lips crash down onto yours. His hands grab your ass and pull you against him, a small growl rumbling through his chest when his erection rubs against your lower stomach.

“Let me touch you, C-Charlie.”

His eyebrows raise and he pulls away, looking into your eyes. “You know the rules, kid...”

“I don’t have to see you to make you feel good. I promise I won’t look, I just...I want to t-touch you. I want to make you cum.”

He inhales sharply, biting his lip as he thinks it over. He can’t pretend that he hasn’t wanted this since he first met you, but the thought of not allowing you to see or touch him until he’s ready to take your virginity is incredibly arousing...

“Alright, but you can’t pull me out of my shorts. Got it?”

You nod eagerly, pressing your lips onto his once again. He scoops you up and walks you over to the underwater bench, setting you down gently. His hand cradles the back of your head, cushioning it from the harsh pool ledge as you pull at the tie of his swim trunks.

His jaw clenches tightly and his eyebrows knit when your hand wraps around the base, a shaky breath leaving his flared nostrils. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours as you begin to stroke him slowly, breath hot on your lips.

“I-Is this okay?” You ask quietly.

He simply nods, back hunching and buttocks clenching as his hips begin to thrust forward in time with your pumps. His eyes squeeze shut, growling and mewling softly with each flick of your wrist.

“Ohhhhh god, Y/N, I...it’s b-been a while since someone’s tttttouched me like this. Your little h-hand ffffeels so nice.”

Your lips pull up into a small smile, flattered that he likes your touch so much. You reach up with your spare hand, spreading it out across the back of his head, pulling him down for another kiss.

Charlie fulfills your silent wish, moving his lips against yours. He disconnects a minute later, a line of sweat gathering at his hairline as his thrusts become more and more desperate and full of need.

“J-Jesus, I’m gonna cum s-soon, can’t last a-any longer.” He groans shakily, reaching down to grab your wrist, halting your touches. “Quick, l-lay back on the d-deck.”

You nod, hopping up out of the water and laying back, allowing enough room for him to get on top of you. His hand moves quickly on his cock as he climbs up and positions himself on top of you.

His hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up while he tugs his shorts down enough to expose his pulsing length. He begins grinding his bare cock against the fabric covering your stomach.

“Look at me, Y/N. I’m gonna--fuuuck--gonna c-cover your belly in m-my hot cum, s-stain your fuuucking b-bathing ssssuit. Are y-you ready?”

Right after you nod, his hips suddenly rut roughly against your stomach and he groans loudly, spurts of warm milky seed spreading across your torso. He snarls, grip tightening around your jaw as he cums all over you. His eyes never close or break your gaze, pupils blown wide with lust and arousal.

Seeing Charlie coming undone above you is a sight you make sure to commit to memory, not wanting to forget the way his face contorted in pleasure, the way his hips bucked against you, the sounds that fell from his pillowy lips.

You’re convinced that there are little other sights more beautiful and erotic than the one you’ve just witnessed.

He lets go of your jaw and tucks himself back into his trunks while his lips leave open-mouthed kisses all over your face and throat. You sigh softly when he pulls away and stands up, already missing his presence on top of you.

“Sorry about the stain.” His eyes dart down to the dark red stain on your suit.

You shake your head, sitting up. “No worries. The chlorine will help.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow and you chuckle, standing up in front of him.

“You heard me right, Mr. Barber. I’m swimming along with you tonight. We’ll see how you hold up against a competitor.”

He smirks, reaching around to land a playful swat on your ass. “Try to catch me, coach.”

You gasp as he quickly turns around and leaps into the water, beginning to swim towards the lanes. You laugh, following behind.

“Oh, it is so on!”

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aphroditestummyrolls · 3 years

Text

This one is the last one! For both @devouring-time and @ladybastet92 who requested Smiling and Hugging! I combined the two prompts because they worked so seamlessly together, I hope you don’t mind.

This scene (something like it, from Yusuf’s POV, like the rest of the story) was in the original cut of chapter four, and I think this one is the one that’s finally gonna break open the floodgates for this rewrite. I changed a few things here, like the setting (I just wanted to describe Yusuf in the rose pavilion) and the POV (but I’m definitely gonna add some Nicolò POV to a few chapters— it really needs thing up), but I took the dialogue and premise. I hope you love this, it made me feel oh so soft. 🌸✨🍓

“Can I see you again?”

That was what he always asked him.

He had so many questions, always posed with a strange formality that didn’t reach his glittering brown eyes. The Prince almost looked hopeful, as if he waited with bated breath on the edge of Nicolò’s reply.

Nicolò could hardly find a single word in his entire head when faced with that breathless politeness, and those deep, warm eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the yes, yes you can, whenever you like— please let me see you again on the tip of his tongue. There was something new inside him, and it clung to him like ivy, spreading over his bones and into his chest to grip his heart.

It was want— Nicolò did not often want, but he did. He wanted to see Prince Yusuf again. And the Prince wanted to see him— he asked him.

Nicolò hardly knew what to do. He’d never had such power. If he was needed, he was sought, and brought before his king. He was ordered, not requested by the elite. Was it a trap? Or had this strange foreign prince forgotten his station?

“Why do you always ask me that?”

The question caught him off guard, and he fumbled his words. “Because you have no obligation to do so, if you… if you don’t want to.”

He had only been able to nod. He had no thoughts beyond the tug in his chest of something— something that twined them together, ever tighter and harder to resist.

It was dangerous.

It was exhilarating.

So, the Prince returned to him, again and again. He asked questions, he told stories, he complimented Nicolò’s work.

Not you, he reminded himself sternly, the traitorous heat of a blush blossoming under his skin, his palms sweating a little. He only compliments the gardens.

But the look in his eyes when he said such things was enough to leave him permanently pink and flustered, his ears burning. It was too much, almost, to hold Prince Yusuf’s gaze, and yet Nicolò could not look away. He came back, again and again.

Like that day— that day at the pavilion, Yusuf had seen the roses fully in bloom for the first time. The jasmine was in it’s last days before wilting away, but it’s cloying scent still wrapped itself round the pillars, mingling with the roses’ sweetness.

Yusuf looked transcendently beautiful.

The soft white pillars of the pavilion flanked him with the climbing vines of red, white and pink buds, petals unfurling against the backdrop of green gardens and distant lavender mountains. The darkness of his curls, his closely trimmed beard, and the black silk of his tunic set a striking contrast to the riot of nature’s colors, framing him like the negative space between stars— like a constellation.

He was looking up, and the awe laid plain on his face would have been enough to make Nicolò truly arrogant, but it didn’t. Because as Prince Yusuf gazed up into the kaleidoscope of roses that weaved up and under and around the wrought iron roof above them, Nicolò was looking at the Prince, just as struck. Just as breathless.

He had a dazzling smile— that of a true diplomat. His lips were dusky pink, and his teeth were straight and gleaming. Nicolò had been stopped in his tracks by it more often than he cared to count.

But, this smile was different from all the others he’d seen from him. The tightness around his eyes had softened, gentling his features into something genuine and unguarded. He looked young, and Nicolò realized for the first time that the Prince could not be much older than himself.

“Oh Nicolò,” he breathed, the words curling and intertwining with the scents of roses and heady jasmine. Suddenly, his throat went dry— he was rendered speechless and utterly stupid, hearing his name spoken like that. “Nicolò, this is… it’s magnificent, you’re magnificent.”

He tore his gaze from the canopy of petals above them, fixed those eyes on him, and he called him that.

Nicolò was sure he’d gone redder than any flower he’d ever grown— his cheeks burned with it, and he pressed his lips tight together, willing his face to school itself into an expression tamer than the wildness that bounced up and down in his chest. He met the Prince’s gaze, and found that he couldn’t look away.

“Gr- grazie, I…” he stuttered, voice trembling with restrained emotion, lips curling into something bright and warm against his will. He couldn’t stop the smile. “Grazie mille, your Highness.”

He should leave. He couldn’t stand the emotions threatening to burst from his chest, growing between his ribs like seeds under the sun. Under the Prince’s gaze— so soft and young, so sincere— he couldn’t take those warm attentions at such strength.

He was one breath away from making a break for the chestnut groves, when the last of his resolve finally broke.

Yusuf took his hand. It was warm and strong. His fingers were long, as elegant as the rest of him, stained at the fingertips with charcoal smudges and dried ink.

“Nicolò, are you alright?” His smile was still there, but his eyes glittered with concern.

He couldn’t contain it for a single second longer, blurting out “Y-You are just so kind.”

He thought maybe the young Prince would laugh at him— and he wasn’t sure he could take that. He was overwhelmed, a lack of control threatening him in a way he’d never felt. He should run, he could burst into tears, he could lean in and kiss those pink, smiling lips—

Yusuf let go of his hand, leaving it too cold against the air, only to throw his arms around Nicolò’s shoulders.

He was holding him. He was hugging him.

It was barely a second, but it felt like a hundred years to Nicolò’s mind. He was frozen to his spot, rooted into the ground as he had been any and every time in the past when he’d had to brace himself for impact.

It had been so very long since someone had reached for him this way.

Just as quickly, Yusuf was pulling back, urgency reversing the action, and he was wide-eyed as he did. As if he’d burned poor Nicolò, the Prince started to back away, and through the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, his could hear his furtive apology.

“I should have thought, Nicolò, I should asked—”

And his arms moved without thought. “No!” he cried, and took the other man by the waist, reeling him back in.

The weight was steadying, comforting. It was as if a bubble had popped around them by feeling the reality of the Prince under his hands— he wasn’t some distant constellation, or a diplomat, or even a Prince. Yusuf was a man. He was young, and solid, and he loved Jasmine. He asked questions, and made requests.

A spell that had held Nicolò at the edge of propriety was suddenly broken, and he breathed the smell of Shea butter and coffee— Yusuf.

He had relaxed into Nicolò’s chest, deflating with relief and maybe something else— Nicolò felt almost like he’d been given whiplash, leaning into the man hugging him as he went from overwhelmed with pent up formality to the most at ease he had ever felt in the presence of another person.

The tip of Yusuf’s sweet, freckled nose brushed against the skin of his neck, and his beard was softer than it looked. Nicolò wanted to memorize the sensation of every single place they touched— he wanted to never let go.

But, they were out in the open, in broad daylight, only shaded from the world by a wall of flowers.

They had to let go.

“May I ask something of you?” Yusuf asked, just far back enough to hold his shoulders, arms length away, and Nicolò missed the way he could feel his heartbeat beside his own.

Nicolò beat him to it. “Yes, I would like to see you again.” He said, and he didn’t dare try to tighten his lips against his smile this time. The wildness of his joy could not be contained, not with his fingers bunched in the silk at Yusuf’s hips.

“Yes?” He grinned back.

“Yes.”

#the old guard #tog #tog fanfic #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #immortal husbands #kaysanova #the fairytale au #color and light intimacy prompts

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urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

Ivy

Alfie Solomons x Shelby Sister Reader where she’s betrothed by Thomas for a truce, now her and Alfie’s secret love affair is in thin line.

A/N: Here I go again, associating an Evermore track to Alfie. Sorry not sorry!

--------

The air was cold at dawn. You’ve been sitting alone in a cemetery since last night, dreading the moment the day was slowly breaking, and how it reminded you of how time of his arrival was getting nearer.

No, you weren’t there to visit a deceased loved one, but might as well have started grieving for yourself. This was the haven where you would often meet Alfie to either stay and talk in each other’s arms, or where he’d fetch you and bring you somewhere you could freely be with each other for a night.

A full year of secret meetups undetected led you both from solely enjoying each other’s company and wits, to being inseparable. Your special spot was a few feet away from the actual gravestones. It was under a huge tree nearby.

You knew from the start that your fondness with each other would never be accepted by your family. And the odds of them actually even coming close to being open on the idea of you both became slimmer every time Alfie would get power in his head and betray your family despite your friendship.

Months would pass of you ignoring his apologies and notes pleading to meet; To be only forgiven when he’s in Thomas’ good graces again. But it became increasingly difficult to be warry of him when you started feeling funny whenever he’d laugh at your jokes, or when he’d offer his coat for both of you to stay under when it starts drizzling and you both forgot to bring an umbrella.

He’s started a goddamn blaze in you.

Now how were you to tell the lone man you’ve ever loved that your brother was planning on marrying you off for a truce?

You only found out last night, leading to you throwing a fit for the very first time towards your brother who tried to calm you down and make you understand the benefit it would bring to the family – much like what he did to John. The way he told you sounded like it was a mere suggestion. But you knew better that he’s already fixed it.

In a fit of tears and frustration from not being able to give him the truth to why you refuse to concede, Polly barging in the study to intervene and ask what was going on was your take to leave and go to your room, shouting loudly that he better leaves you alone that night.

It took you the night trying to write everything down for Alfie. How you were to be married, and begging him not to intervene. Because as much as you love him, you couldn’t risk him and your family being in another war with the still unknown family you were to be part of.

Sneaking out later on, that’s how you found yourself in your favorite spot in the cemetery crying your heart out, and reminiscing all the memories you hold so dear with Alfie.

Taking a deep breath, your hand took the folded page of paper from your coat pocket. You almost crumpled it and wait for Alfie to tell him yourself. But you were a coward and just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Not when you know you wouldn’t be able to open your mouth without breaking down.

Taking a rock big enough to hold it in place, you placed your open letter under the tree and willed yourself to walk away from both your favorite place and your happiness that morning.

It’s been days and you have not uttered a word to your family. Still crying yourself to sleep every night, it became increasingly harder not to call Alfie and beg for forgiveness and ask him to take you away.

Alfie himself was sending your office missives after missives, asking you to see him at least. But all of it were left unanswered and kept in one of your desk’s drawers.

Tonight, was the celebration of your engagement and the first time you were to meet the man you were to be married to. You’ve learned from Polly that he was from a wealthy Italian family, about your age, and that he’s already seen you before and was actually the one to ask Thomas for your hand in marriage.

What a puss. You thought, He couldn’t even ask you and get rejected personally.

Well at least the dress he sent was decent. But hell were to freeze over before you would even consider wearing it.

Opening your closet, your hands skimmed through your numerous formal dresses, and finally landed on one that meant so much to you. It was beautiful, fit you perfectly, and it was a gift from Alfie.

They don’t know it’s from him, but you had to admit that wearing it in front of your family and future husband would be a satisfying last act of proclaiming your love for the King of Camden town.

The night began rather peacefully. It seemed that you were the only one miserable in the occasion thrown for you.

The man you were to marry was alright. He was polite, charming even. But he was a shy pup compared to a beast like Alfie. Sooner or later, you had to stop thinking about him.

“What’s the Jew doing here, Tommy?” you heard your aunt ask Tommy discretely.

“I invited him, Poll. All bad blood in the past, he’s a good business partner.” He explained to your aunt.

But the rest of the conversation drowned out for you. He’s here.

For the first time in the entire night of the party, you moved from the corner you were sulking on, looking for the pair of opal eyes you were wishing to see. To hell with the Italian boy.

You were turning on every corner looking for him. If he really were in here, you figured he’d be in a corner somewhere like usual.

“I knew you’d look absolutely beautiful in that dress.” A voice called out just loud enough for you to catch. Snapping to the direction it came from, your eyes met Alfie’s.

He was dressed formally as asked, his beard was trimmed, and he had his hat on.

“Alfie I-“

“I’ll take a dance, yes.” He cut you off, not wanting to make you cry in front of the guests. Taking your hands in his freezing ones, he led you to the dance floor.

“I though you hated dancing in public?” you mused at him, placing your hands by his shoulders, ignoring the lump in your throat.

“If this were to be our last one, everyone else be damned, yeah?” He answered, looking at you lovingly. You smiled. How could he still look at you so endearingly even after your cowardness?

“The wine’s shite by the way.” He commented, trying to make you laugh. He couldn’t stand looking so defeated anymore. You couldn’t resist breaking into a laugh, and bit your tongue from telling him the drinks are courtesy of your future husband.

Polly and Arthur were stood near each other, looking at the both of you dancing, when your aunt finally spoke up.

“She hasn’t cracked a smile ever since the night Thomas told her.” She told the oldest Shelby brother. “And all it took was for Solomons to dance with her.”

“Yeah, looking at ‘em makes me almost forget the bastard tried to kill me. It’s almost as if they’re…” Arthur didn’t get to finish what he was to say from the sudden realization. He knew that look. Yes, he’d never seen you look at anyone like that, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was - the color coming back to your face, almost as if it actually lit up at the presence of Camden town’s king.

Turning to Poll, she was already smirking at him. “She couldn’t tell Thomas the real reason she doesn’t to be married off for business. But you’re the eldest, Arthur, and when it’s on matters of your siblings’ personal happiness, you have to put your foot down.” Patting the back of his shoulder, she took her drink to go who knows.

“Is there somewhere we can talk, luv?” Alfie asked you quietly, sliding his hand on your shoulder, to your hand where he held it.

Looking around you, relief washed over when you saw that the guests were immersed in their own conversations and dance partners.

“Meet me in my room in a few minutes. It’s the third door at the right hall, and I’ll keep it slightly open.” You nervously told him, trying to keep your voice low.

Letting go of him, you acted natural, smiling at guests your way.

--------

In your room, you stood fidgeting with your fingers. The light from the crescent moon that peeked through your window was the only source of light.

What if he got lost and mistakenly entered Tommy’s office? Or that he decided to confront that fiancé of yours?

You were saved from the panic attack rising when your door finally creaked open bigger, and the silhouette of the man you love came in.

But before you could talk, his lips met yours desperately. Alfie hoped that his kiss would be able to tell you how much he’s missed you, how the past days felt like absolute hell, and how it led him to be willing in being a mister for you. A mister.

“Are you sure that brother of yours won’t be looking for ya? What if he found us out, pet?” He asked in between kisses to your neck.

“He’s gonna burn this house to the ground” you answered, gasping when he squeezed you in closer to him. You almost hated having to stop him. “Alfie, we came here to talk.” You weakly pushed him off you.

His eyes under the moonlight was glistening. It was only now that you realized he was crying. Taking his face in your hands, you held it gently, wiping his damp cheek.

“Alfie, I love you, okay? Everything that we had – no matter how it was only stolen moments, I’d live and die just to experience them again. But I can’t risk losing you and or anyone from my family for my personal reasons.” You tried to sound brave in front of him, knowing that the second you’d break, he’d take you with him.

He shook his head. “Now that’s just selfish of that brother of yours, pet. You know I could help settle any problem he has with ‘em Italians. He didn’t have to drag you into this.”

“And what, have him figure out why you’d go through great lengths for his sister whom you never seemed to care about?” Whenever Thomas was in the same room as you, the both of you would only resort to a formal greeting and not even try to converse. That was how you were able to keep it up so long. “It’s either I run or we dare come clean to him and see what we’ll become. He’ll find me either way, or he’ll shoot you dead.”

Alfie moved away from you, and walking by the window to take a breath and calm his nerves.

Suddenly the door to your bedroom was kicked completely open, revealing Arthur and Tommy who looked like they were ready to murder.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you immediately stood straight as if ready to block them before they could get to Alfie. But to your surprise, Arthur stayed standing by the doorway, and it was only Thomas who took a step closer.

“Alfie, you have one chance to tell me that what Arthur's saying isn’t true.” Tommy was seething, ordering him. “You of all people know my sisters are off limits.”

“It’s true, Tom.” You answered before Alfie could even open his mouth. If he were to push through marrying you off, at least leave him with the guilt for snatching your life away. “I love him.” Relief from finally being able to say it in front of your brothers washed over you.

“I am not gonna let you use my sister for whatever scheme it is that you fu-

“I was gonna ask her to marry me, you fucker!” Alfie growled from behind you, before finally reaching your side. You stood there gaping at him, having been clueless as well of his intentions.

“I went to meet her in our spot with a fucking ring in my hand, right. And what do I find? A letter from her telling me that some scum wants what’s only mine, and her cunt of a brother is allowing it!”

Arthur having been satisfied from what Alfie said, was smiling at you across the room. “And as the eldest of the family, I give you my blessing, so long as you promise to protect her.” He spoke, nodding at him. You wanted to run into your brother’s arms in gratitude, but Thomas spoke up again.

“Don’t celebrate yet, Alfie." He both looked at you with a stern expression. "There are Italians out there still thinking that there’s a marriage happening in a fortnight.”

Alfie scoffed at your brother’s statement. As if he hasn’t dealt with them before.

Taking your hand in his, he turned to your brother once more. “And what is expected to happen when I call off the marriage?” He asked him.

“I’m gonna start a war” you answered nervously.

Squeezing your hand, he turned to you. “Then it's gonna be the goddamn fight of my life, pet.”

498 notes · View notes

t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

You’re Beautiful (Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader)

Word Count: 4,784

Warnings: SMUT, slight angst, bullying, my shit writing, Kuroo being too damn hot

Summary: Despite how much you loved him, you couldn’t handle the constant bullying that came with dating one of the most sought after males at your school. The constant harassment from Kuroo’s fans ended with you breaking up with him. But when Kuroo founds out the truth... well he does everything in his power to make sure you’re taken care of.

~~~~

Anonymous said:

Hiii 🦊 Rachel here! Could I please request a scenario in which kuroo s/o has been being constantly bullied by kuroo's fangirls during months to the point in which her self confidence is almost crushed but she remain silent and decides to try yo break Up with him?. She appears the Next day at school wearing sexy clothes and make up to make them believe she Split Up with him seriosly. But kuroo notices what's happening and reassures her? Smut ending please if possible!! Thank u so much!! 😊

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Anonymous said:

Can I please request a scenario where Kuroo helps his gf relieve her stress by giving her his full attention and worshipping her? She’s also very insecure. He walks in the room to find her staring at herself in the mirror, lifting her shirt up and looking sad (insecure about her body). No need for angst though! She beams the moment he flirts with her and call her kitten. Soft!dom vibes with lots of dirty talk and praise (and maybe cockwarming?). Thank you 🥺 ily and your blog btw

~~~~

I decided to put these two requests together since they both fall into the same category! I hope you enjoy this one Rachel and anon!

Sorry it took so long for me to write! I think I do a terrible job at writing characters as a dom so I apologize in advance if it wasn’t what you guys were wanting! As always please let me know what you guys think:)

~~~~

“- I don’t understand.” Kuroo’s frown deepened, his fingers clenching and unclenching into fists at his side.

You had an audience, the soft whispers of people passing by curled around your ear like the wind.

You knew exactly what they were talking about, what they will be talking about for the next couple of weeks.

“Y/n why are you breaking up with me?” he pressed further, his tall frame taking a step closer to you.

“I told you.” Your voice sounds strained, even to your own ears, despite the mental preparation you had to do before.

Hell, there was no amount of mental preparation that could prepare you for something like this.

Kuroo’s annoyed and calculating expression shifted dramatically, hurt and confusion clouded his face, his large hand reached out towards you, causing you to take a step back, your arms wrapping around your body.

You wanted to curl into yourself, to disappear completely so you didn’t have to see Kuroo’s pained expression.

“That doesn’t… that doesn’t make sense! We were doing great! You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go out with me! So why… why all of a sudden -”

“I told you.” You stressed, cutting him off immediately. “I don’t want to be with someone who only focuses on their club activities. You never have time for me, you’re always so busy with your stupid club. I can’t do this anymore.”

Lies.

They were all lies.

But you… you had to make this work, you had to make this hurt, or else… or else you knew he would never leave you alone.

The whispering around you got louder, the large smirks from the girls amongst the crowd pierced into your heart.

But not as much as this.

Kuroo’s expression ripped your heart in two.

This hurt like hell.

“Your team is waiting for you Kuroo.” You said quietly, ignoring the ache in your chest as he visibly flinched at the use of his surname, something you never called him. “I’ll see you around.”

You turned to walk away, resisting the urge to look back at the tall male. You could feel tears stinging at your eyes as you rushed out of the school gates, it was probably a mistake to do this right after class; catching him right before he went into volleyball practice.

It honestly was all a mistake but… you didn’t have a choice.

You were suddenly yanked back, causing you to stumble about.

“That was quite the show.” a familiar voice drawled out, you flinched as you scrambled away from the group of girls that were staring you down.

The group of girls that caused this mess.

“It was smart of you to break up with him. Kuroo-san belongs to all of us, not just you. You ugly girl.” She sneered. “Who would want you anyway? Kuroo-san was just dating you out of pity, I bet he just wanted a quick lay. Since you’re that easy.”

You could feel your lower lip tremble, the tears that were already gathered in your eyes threatening to spill over.

“Well it’s done, just leave me alone now.” You mumbled, walking away.

As soon as you were a safe distance away, tears began pouring down your face.

The flood of emotions you were experiencing was something like no other. The pain that you felt deep within your chest was excruciating, and all you could see behind your lids as you wiped at your eyes was Kuroo’s hurt expression.

You were lucky enough that your mother wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be home for the next couple of days due to a business trip.

Which meant you could cry your heart out in peace.

No amount of mental preparation prepared you for this. For the hurt that you had caused the person you loved the most, for the hurt that you were experiencing from the constant cruelty of those girls.

It was all too much.

By the time you had finally finished crying it was late at night, and you found yourself in front of your bathroom mirror.

They were right, you were an ugly girl, why would Kuroo want to be with someone like you?

It was always a question that lingered in the back of your mind when Kuroo confessed to you. It was strange wasn’t it? He was quite possibly the most perfect human being you had ever met, so why would he want to be with you?

“Since you’re that easy.”

You shook your head from the comment, Kuroo was your first for everything; memories that you would cherish forever, even if you were no longer with him.

You at least knew that comment wasn’t true, Kuroo wasn’t a cruel person, there was no way he would have thought of you that way.

The person you were looking at in the mirror wasn’t someone you recognized. A stranger in your own skin, your eyes flickered to every inch of your insecurities, your body shrinking down.

You couldn’t go on like this, something had to change.

****

“W-What are you wearing Y/n-chan?” Yaku asked, face flushed, as he took in your uniform.

You were lucky enough to have arrived at school without any encounters with those girls and Kuroo. But you were unlucky in the fact that you were in the same class as Kuroo and Yaku.

“D-Does it look bad?” You asked, carefully tugging at the hem of your skirt.

“No but… you never wear anything that short… I’m just not used to seeing you like that… are you wearing makeup?” Yaku looked at you in surprise, the pink in his cheeks never fading.

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, your head ducking down in embarrassment as you nodded.

This was so uncomfortable; you were completely out of your element right now.

You had opted for the shorter uniform skirt today, something that was completely different than your usual knee length one. Your legs had never been so exposed at school before.

The makeup… well, you hardly ever wore makeup, it wasn’t like you were wearing a whole lot of it, but just enough to make you feel just a tad less insecure about yourself.

“Kuroo is gonna flip when he -” Yaku shut his mouth immediately; eyes casting away from you.

That’s right.

He had almost forgotten that you had broken up with him yesterday, and from the slight fall of your face, maybe you had forgotten too.

“You know… Kuroo was devastated when he came into practice yesterday, he made us do twice as many drills, got upset over the littlest things…” Yaku trailed off, glancing over at you briefly. “We didn’t know what had happened until Lev said something about it. News travels fast around here huh?” he joked weakly.

“Just news that involves your golden boy.” you said quietly, your eyes trained on your folded hands that rested on your desk.

Yaku turned his body completely towards you now. “Y/n-chan what happened? Why did you -” the classroom door suddenly opened, and in walked the golden boy himself.

He looked… exhausted, sad.

The tiny piece that you were able to fix in your heart shattered once again, leaving you empty and achy inside.

This was all your fault.

His exhaustion, his sadness, that was all you.

You could feel his eyes flickering over to your form, but you didn’t dare meet his gaze, you settled for pulling out one of your books from your bag; eyes focused on the page, although, you couldn’t even comprehend what it was you were reading.

His shadow loomed over you as he paused next to your desk. It was only for a couple of seconds before he sighed loudly, taking his seat behind Yaku.

Fuck today was going to be a long day.

****

The next couple of days were routine now, Yaku would attempt to make small talk with you, struggling each and every time to ask you what had happened between you and Kuroo, and each time it ended with Kuroo entering the classroom and standing near your desk before sighing loudly and leaving.

Despite the fact that it was becoming routine, it still wasn’t easy. None of it was, the only easy thing was that those pesky girls in his fan club left you alone, at least you got relief from that.

Until today.

Of course, it would be when you were walking home that they would approach you, no one in sight.

“You really think that dressing up and wearing makeup is going to make you pretty?” one of them scoffed, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. “You’re still ugly, you did Kuroo-san a favor by dumping him, who would want to be with someone as hideous as you?”

You gritted your teeth, your hands tightening around the strap of your bag as you attempted to step around them, only for them to get in your way once more.

They were cornering you now.

“I did what you asked, why do you keep bothering me?” you asked quietly, pleading almost.

“Because you took him away from us all those months ago. Kuroo-san has never and will never be yours. It honestly was such a bitchy thing for you to do Y/n. You really think that by just breaking up with him you would be let off the hook? Wrong.”

Your quiet demeanor never faltered; you were desperate to go home though. So you tried stepping around them once again, only to be shoved back into another one of the girls.

They were laughing at you as they shoved you about, but you didn’t have the strength to fight back, to stand up for yourself.

You just… you just let it happen.

You probably deserved it anyway, right?

For breaking Kuroo’s heart.

You deserved all of it, right?

“Hey!”

Everyone froze, yourself included. You knew that voice all too well, and you couldn’t help the tears that began to pool in your eyes.

Cool fingers clasped at your wrist, carefully yanking you away from the group of girls that were now cowering in front of the tall male that stood before them.

“Are you okay Y/n?” Kenma peered at you in concern, carefully releasing his grip on you. You nodded, rubbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater.

“K-Kuroo-san! We were just teaching her a lesson! She hurt you, didn’t she? We were just trying to protect you!” one of the girl’s pleaded.

You had never seen Kuroo like this. He was genuinely angry, his eyes all but turning into slits as he glared down at the group of girls who were nearly in tears at this point.

“From what I heard, you guys are the reason that Y/n broke up with me.” he said, tone deep and dark. “From what I saw… well… girls like you absolutely disgust me.” he sneered.

“K-Kuroo-san.” one of them began to cry.

“From now on stay away from me, and stay away from Y/n. If I catch you guys anywhere near her then we’re going to have some problems. Understand?” he stood incredibly tall; his arms folded across his chest as he stared down at the group of girls.

It was silent for a moment and then whimpers and loud cries began to erupt from the group, all of them running off.

As soon as they were out of sight Kuroo slumped down, sighing tiredly as his large hand ran down his face, rubbing off whatever emotions he was feeling. But then he was turning to face you, concern clouding his eyes as he walked closer.

“Are you hurt?” he murmured softly, one of his fingers gently sliding against your cheek, his eyes flickering across your face.

You shook your head, but you could feel oncoming tears beginning to pool. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into his arms at this point.

But Kuroo knew you too well, he recognized the look on your face and his hand slid down to grasp yours.

“Let’s go.” he said. “Kenma I’m going to take Y/n home. Walk home without me.” his eyes glanced over at his friend who nodded, waving goodbye to the two of you before taking his leave.

For the most part, the trip home was entirely quiet, you two hadn’t addressed anything that had happened at the school, or what had happened in the days prior. It was mostly small talk, but you felt lighter somehow.

Kuroo brought the best out of you, he was your better half; his mere presence brought a sense of calm to the raging storm inside of you.

He also had never let go of your hand.

Maybe it was because of what happened earlier, or maybe it was an unconsciousness thing, but you were grateful for it.

His hand was large and warm, his thumb rubbing gently against the back of your hand, it was entirely soothing.

But now your anxiety was through the roof as you approached your front door, pausing to retrieve the keys from your bag.

Would he go?

Would he want to come in?

Would he want answers?

Would you guys get back together?

“Y/n....” Kuroo stared down at you intensely, his face nothing but serious. “Can we talk?”

Fuck. Maybe it was all of the above.

You bit your lip, nodding before you guys stepped into your house.

“Where’s your mom?” Kuroo asked casually, slipping off his shoes.

“She’s on a business trip, she’ll be back on Saturday.” you said quietly. Kuroo said nothing back as you guys made your way to your room. Silence engulfing you completely, the air thick with tension.

“Do you really not want to be with me anymore?” Kuroo asked as soon as you guys got settled in. There was no room for small talk now, he had jumped to the point immediately.

“Or did you break up with me because of those girls?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your form.

“They’ve been… they’ve been harassing me since we got together, it got really bad recently…” you trailed off, ignoring the dark look that crossed over his face for a moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice was incredibly soft now, his expression gentle. “I would’ve done something about it.”

“I don’t know.” you whimpered out, the tears that you had been holding back since school finally spilled over. “They were your fans… you’re so amazing, I didn’t want them to think badly of you. They’re right, you know. Why would someone like you want someone like me? I’m not very pretty or smart, I’m not passionate like you are… they said I was only dragging you down. I didn’t want to hold you back anymore. So, I - I had to break up with you, had to hurt you enough so that you wouldn’t try pursuing me anymore.”

At this point you were full on sobbing, blabbering your confession. The words just leaked out, there was no point in stopping now, not like you could anyway.

“I didn’t mean what I said about the team either. I just said that to hurt your feelings. I love that you’re so dedicated to your team and volleyball, I love how hard you work towards your goals. You’re so good at what you do. I’m so sorry Kuroo. I’m so sorry.” you choked out, another sob tearing through your lips as you desperately tried wiping away the ongoing flow of tears.

Your eyes were incredibly blurry, your loud crying and hiccups were the only sound that could be heard in the room. You hadn’t even registered that Kuroo had gotten off your bed until you were being yanked into a warm chest. His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, crushing you to his body.

Warmth seeped into your being, radiated off of his chest and into yours. Your nose was filled with the scent of Kuroo, familiar and perfect as you buried your face deeper into his chest.

He caged you against his body, the strong grip he had only tightening further; his large hands rubbed up and down your back, soothing your hysteria until there were only soft hiccups and sniffles.

You weren’t sure how long Kuroo held you for, but you didn’t care. You never wanted to leave his arms.

He was solid, so strong and warm; grounding you to this moment. You could only think of him, as he was right now, and as you were right now. Right now, this moment was perfect.

Right now, you knew that you would never stop loving Kuroo Tetsurou.

“I wish you would’ve told me about those girls earlier.” he finally spoke, his voice was calm, the movement of his hands never stopping against your back. “At least you’re telling me now. But…” his hands gently pulled you away from his body. His eyes burned as they stared into your own, the intensity of his gaze took your breath away, he had never looked at you like that before.

“You’re seriously stupid if you think any of that is true. Not pretty? Not smart? Dragging me down? Holding me back? That’s not true.” He cupped your face carefully, titling your head back slightly, forcing your eyes to only stare at him.

“You’re the kindest person I know. You’re so beautiful, you have no idea how many of the guys at our school wanted to go out with you. You’re the top of our class, did you forget that you’re in the college prep class? You’re incredibly smart. You’ve never dragged me down; you’ve never held me back. You make me want to be better, you make me want to work harder. If I don’t have you by my side… then what’s the point to any of it?” his voice was deep and fierce, full of fiery passion as he stared down at you.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Of course, I love you, I never stop-” Kuroo slammed his lips against yours, kissing you fiercely and urgently.

You whimpered loudly, fingers gripping at the front of his uniform tightly as you surrendered yourself to his kiss.

Every ounce of his feelings for you were being poured into this kiss, it was searing, burning you completely as he nipped and sucked at your bottom lip, forcing his tongue into your mouth easily.

It was wet and hot as he massaged the pink muscle in your mouth with his own, and you could only take it, clinging to him desperately as you tried to keep up with his pace.

You hadn’t even realized that he was taking steps back until your world shifted, Kuroo easily pulling you down onto his lap as he sat on your bed. You held yourself up, knees pressing into the soft mattress on either side of his hips.

“You’re mine.” he breathed against your mouth, the hand that was resting on your back trailed down towards your exposed legs. His fingers curled around the back of your upper thigh, skimming against the band of the thigh highs that you wore.

“I can’t believe you started wearing these tiny little skirts to school. I hated the way other guys would look at you whenever you left the classroom… and the makeup? Who were you trying to impress?” he murmured, nipping at your bottom lip before trailing his mouth against the underside of your jaw, and down your throat.

“I - ahh - I just wanted to…” your fingers slid into his hair; eyes fluttering shut as his tongue flickered out to taste your skin. “Feel good about myself.”

He pulled away from you, his lips swollen, and pupils blown as he stared at you. “You’re gorgeous, you don’t need to make yourself up like that. I’ll make you feel good.”

Kuroo began tugging the clothes off of your guys’ body, easily tossing them to the floor until you were both bare.

His lips parted as his eyes wandered to every inch of your skin, greedily taking in all of your pretty curves. You were his, he’d never let anyone else have you, he’d never let anyone else see you like this. Sprawled out on top of the bed, face flushed a beautiful pink, your knees bent as your feet sat flat against the sheets, your core entirely exposed to him.

You were dripping, cunt glistening and begging to be touched.

“It’s embarrassing.” you whispered, face heating up as you took in the way he stared openly at your exposed lower half. You moved to clamp your legs shut, only for his large hands to grab your knees, ripping them apart easily, exposing you further.

“What’s so embarrassing about a boyfriend wanting to stare at his beautiful girlfriend?” he asked, eyebrow raising, a small smirk grazed his lips. “I’m going to make you feel so good, kitten.”

His face sank lower, the hands that were resting on your knees sliding down until they curled around the back of your upper thighs, pushing them further apart and up.

His nose brushed against your mound and then you felt his hot breath blowing against your center, causing a loud whimper to escape your lips, your fingers gripping at the sheets below.

“Thank you for the meal.” he smirked against you, eyes flickering towards you before his mouth enveloped you completely.

You cried out.

Kuroo’s mouth was like a furnace as he lapped at your cunt carefully, flattening his tongue against your soaked entrance before flicking it up towards your swollen bundle of nerves.

The pink muscle easily swirled against your clit, lazy almost, before dipping back into your slit, moving in and out of you perfectly.

Your chest was heaving at this point, your fingers reaching down to tangle into his already messy hair, urging him closer.

His grip on your thighs tightened, his tongue moving against you faster as he felt you drip onto his tongue.

“Tetsurou.” you whimpered. “I’m close, so close.” you slurred, the familiar tightness within your belly coiling rapidly.

Kuroo pulled himself away immediately, a loud whine tearing through your lips.

“N-No! Why did you stop?” You cried out, the tightness residing immediately, the dull ache of your cunt begging for more attention, for release.

Kuroo stood above you, a devilish grin stretching across his face as you whined pitifully at him. One of the hands that was gripping your thigh suddenly came down, swatting at your swollen cunt with a sharp sting.

You cried out in surprise as your body jolted with pleasure. His fingers gently running up and down your soaked folds, pressing down gently against your bundle of nerves.

“I know I said I would make you feel good, but… there needs to be some kind of punishment too. Since you tried breaking up with me, and you kept secrets from me.” he chuckled, his eyes held nothing but warmth though, filled to the brim with love and lust.

Suddenly Kuroo was hauling you up, easily pulling you back onto his lap, you could feel his hard member rubbing against the curve of your ass and then he was shifting you up once more and - another loud cry tore through your lips as he sheathed himself inside of you completely.

The stretch burned as you struggled to accommodate his size, you would never get to this stretch, to him being buried deep inside of you.

He hushed you tenderly, his lips pressing gently against your temple. His breath came out in hot, wet pants against the side of your neck.

“Look at you.” he breathed, his eyes focused on the mirror that was propped against your wall, facing your bed. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. Look at how well you take my cock kitten.”

Your eyes were screwed closed as you struggled to adjust to the new intrusion in your body. When you finally opened your eyes a loud mewl tore through your swollen lips.

Kuroo had your back pressed tightly against his chest, your legs hung over the side of his muscular thighs, his thick member buried deep in your cunt.

The scene before you was incredibly lewd. The way your pussy lips were stretched around his thick cock was on full display, your bare body covered in sweat and flushed red. The dazed look on your face and the tears gathering in your eyes; it was too much.

Kuroo had his chin resting against your shoulder, his eyes never leaving the mirror as he took in every inch of you.

“S-So embarrassing.” You whined again, attempting to turn your face away so you no longer had to stare at yourself in the mirror.

Kuroo wasn’t having any of that, his strong fingers gripped your chin easily, forcing your head back towards the front.

“Don’t look away.” he commanded into the shell of your ear. “I want you to watch.” he began moving, his hips bucking up, sliding in and out of your velvety walls. “I want you to see how absolutely perfect you are. I want you to see how well you take my cock, I want you to see yourself cum. I want you to see how good I make you feel.”

Your lips were parted, moans spilling out of your mouth as you watched the way your breasts moved with each hard thrust of his hips, the way your cunt stretched around his swollen member that continuously disappeared inside of your body.

“You make the sweetest faces. Fuck look at how wet you are for me kitten.” Kuroo groaned lowly into your ear, his tongue flickering out against the skin. His eyes never left your form, cat-like and dangerous as you took what he gave you.

“Do you hear that?” he murmured lowly. “Fuck you’re so soaked for me.” over the rustling of sheets and your moans the soft squelching noises of your soaked cunt could be heard.

“Should I make you cum?” he breathed, his hand reaching down, his fingers brushing against your parted folds that were stretched tightly around his cock. His eyes were glued to the obscene image before him, memorized with the way you engulfed him completely.

“Please.” you sobbed, overstimulated tears now rolling down your cheeks. “Tetsu, please.”

He moaned softly, fingers reaching up to rub at your clit.

It didn’t take long before you began unraveling, from the quick swipes of his fingers against your bundle of nerves, from the way that his member filled you to the brim, reaching a devastating depth within you, it was no wonder you were reaching your end so quickly.

You watched as your cunt gushed around him, trickling down his balls and staining the sheets below.

“Fuck.” he hissed, teeth sinking into your bare shoulder as you convulsed against him. You were panting, crying at the rush of pleasure still coursing through your body.

Kuroo stayed buried inside of you, waiting for you to catch your breath, your walls fluttering around him. He wouldn’t last long. But he needed you to cum again.

“Give me another one kitten, I know you can do it.” he cooed, and then his hips started jack hammering into your core, hard and fast as his fingers worked against your clit once again.

It was too much, overstimulating, sharp and biting, and you took it all.

You sobbed loudly as your end approached, faster this time, but far more devastating. Especially when you felt his release, Kuroo painted your insides a beautiful white as he spilled himself deep within your core.

You could feel your ears ringing, vaguely registering his gentle praises as he stretched you across the bed, sliding out of your puffy and swollen cunt carefully. You could feel his warmth seeping out, trailing down the length of your legs, but you were far too exhausted to care, to clean up.

He pulled the sheets over your body pulling you against his sweaty chest, his strong fingers brushing away the hair that clung to the sides of your face.

“I love you.” he breathed, a gentle smile covering his lips as he gazed down at you. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You sighed softly, a sweet smile grazing your lips as you stared back at him. “I love you Tetsu. I don’t ever want to be without you again.” you nuzzled your face into his chest, his arms wrapping around your body tightly.

“I didn’t spend all that time convincing you to go out with me for you to leave so quickly. You’re stuck with me, and my stupid club.” he grinned at you.

“That’s okay. I really missed spending time with Kenma.”

“Oi.”

975 notes · View notes

writersmorgue · 3 years

Text

Nightmare Material

15+ for graphic descriptions of violence, blood, and gore

can be read as slash or platonic

not proofread

“SHUT UP DEKU! OH MY GOD, CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?!”

The common room goes silent.

“Woah, Bakubro, he just asked if you were busy,” Kirishima chuckles nervously.

Katsuki looks over to Deku who, as expected, already has tears welling in his eyes.

“Shitty crybaby, of course I’m busy can’t you fuckin’ see? Go bother someone who cares.”

Deku sniffles like the pathetic little child that he is, and nods, “Ok Kacchan.”

“Fuckin’ annoying ass-” Katsuki mutters, ignoring the glares as he stomps out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time before slamming the door shut behind him, imagining the flinches of his classmates as he does so.

Fuck that fucking nerd, always looking down at him. Asking him for help on math of all things, when he fuckin’ knows that’s Katsuki’s worst subject. Fuck him.

The little shit shouldn’t even be here, he’s not on Katsuki’s level. Just gonna get himself killed.

After a few minutes of grumbling into his pillow, there’s a knock at Katsuki’s door, followed by a meek, “Blasty?”

He groans dramatically and flops over onto his back, propelling himself up with a few controlled explosions.

“Fuckin’ what-” He swings the door open and comes face to face with the entire idiot squad.

Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari all stand in front of him, Sero nervously wringing his hands, Kaminari avoiding eye contact, and Kirishima giving him a look.

Mina steps to the front of them, patting Kirishima’s shoulder as she does so.

“Blasty, you really gotta stop.” She stares him straight in the eyes, not backing down no matter how hard he glares.

“Stop fuckin’ what.”

Kirishima places a hand on Mina’s chest, stalling her step forward into Katsuki’s space. “You know what, Bakugo.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Oh please, like the little shit can’t handle some yelling. I’ve seen discount hot topic make his ears bleed-”

“This isn’t about Jirou. This is about you. You need to sort your shit out.” Sero’s frowning, a rare sight.

“Oh?” Katsuki quirks an eyebrow, “Or what?”

There’s a tense silence before Kaminari sniffs. “Or- or we won’t be your friends anymore!!” He stutters, bottom lip wobbling.

The rest of the group nods, one by one giving him a last glance.

Katsuki stands there for a few minutes, mainly thinking, but also fuming

How dare they treat him like that, like trash. He’s not trash, and he’s not the bad guy. He’s just trying to save Deku before it’s too late. Stupid idiot won’t last a day in the hero business, even with his new freak quirk. All it’s good for is hurting the nerd.

“Stupid Deku and his stupid protection squad, fuckin’ blind idiots.” He grumbles, slamming the door and returning to his lair.

He changes his clothes, resigning himself to finishing his weekend at the gym instead of on next week’s homework.

Bakugo stomps through the common room on the way to their practice room, a few of his classmates shoot him glares but he’s ignored for the most part. Something noticeably purposeful since he’s not exactly being quiet. Even Kirishima refuses to acknowledge his presence.

Yeah, that hurts.

He runs for two hours, lifts for one, and finishes with core for thirty minutes before his post-workout cooldown ritual. Thoroughly satiated and tired to the bone, he heads back to his dorm. Ignored this way too, he doesn’t bother saying goodnight to anyone. Not that he would usually. Not that he misses Ashido’s “Night blasty!!” on his way up the stairs.

He doesn’t give a shit.

He scrubs at his body with his last bits of energy and brushes his teeth half dead on his feet. Exhausted, he flops down on his bed and passes out almost immediately.

…

Someone’s screaming.

Katsuki lunges toward Shigaraki, whose hand barely grazes Izuku’s neck.

Izuku? When did he ever call the nerd something other than-

“DEKU!!!” Oh, he was the one screaming. He blasts himself forward and pushes Izuku out of the way, his dusted skin flaking off into the breeze as green hair skids to a stop on the ground below.

“Damn BRAT-” Shigaraki mutters, angrily scrunching his hand in mid-air before turning his attention to Katsuki. “YOU.” He points a cracked, pointed finger at Katsuki.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it old man?” He snorts, preparing his arms to blast again, he can feel the resistance from his last jump.

“You saved the little shit,” Shigaraki mutters to himself, nails dragging roughly down his neck, “must have a relationship, must be close to my enemy. Must die-”

Katsuki raises his hand, palms crackling in defiance, but he’s geared to go anyway.

Nothing happens.

“Fuck goddamnit!” His one fucking chance to get a drop on the guy and he’s out of juice? Fucking really?!

He’s so caught up in his fury he doesn’t notice the mad glint in the enemy’s eye. The way he smiles brokenly, bloody tongue barely peeking out.

“Poor little hero.” He mutters.

Katsuki jerks his head up just in time to see five fingers inches away from his face.

Well, this was fun.

“KATSUKI-” There’s pressure on his side and he falls, belatedly realizing he was pushed out of the way.

He looks hits the ground hard, hearing the reverberated snap of his ankle as it breaks.

“FALL HERO!! FALL BEFORE ME! YOUR NEW GO-”

Shigaraki falls to the ground as Todoroki whacks him over the head with a piece of rebar.

HIs normally stoic expression is frantic, he’s got fresh tears streaking down his face, and his forehead is covered in dried blood.

He tears his eyes away from the downed villain as Kirishima comes to cuff him, and screams in anguish at the sight of Izuku- Something Katsuki is still trying to wrap his head around.

A startled, almost pained sound escapes Katsuki as he half limps, half runs towards his best friend.

...best friend?

“IZUKU!”

Izuku has long since crumbled to his knees, clutching what remains of the left side of his face. Still slowly crumbling away. Blood pours down his arm and neck, making it difficult to see, but the sight of his eye frantically widening as Katsuki sits next to him is enough.

He removes his hand and sobs, throwing himself onto Katsuki.

“Eih- hgo-” He chokes, blood soaking Katsuki’s own suit as he rocks them both.

“Shh, it’s okay, Izuku.” He whispers, making eye contact with a sobbing Todoroki, who nods in approval.

“Izuku you’re gonna be fine.” The shock has yet to remove itself from Katsuki’s voice, and his words are filled with cracks and sobs, but he hopes it’s what Izuku needs.

“Aa- aah” Izuku’s broken kacchan followed by a fresh flow of blood down Katuski’s neck.

“I love you, Izuku. It’s gonna be alright.”

Izuku whimpers, clutching onto the blond’s neck for dear life.

And then he goes limp.

Katsuki’s eyes bug out, and he pulls Izuku arm’s length away. The gruesome sight that greets him is one he’ll never forget.

Izuku’s left eye hangs loosely down the side of his mangled cheekbone and jaw. Katsuki can see teeth starting to crumble as the decay works its way through his face. His nose is completely exposed, with no flesh left. No cute freckles. No scrunch when he smiles. And his other eye, possibly the worst part, stares lifelessly at Katsuki. The last remnants of tears make their way down his face.

He looks… terrified.

He died scared in the arms of his abuser. Someone who never even apologized to him. For fucking anything. Some vile part of Katsuki reminds him.

He saved me because I couldn’t do my fucking job.

He thrusts Izuku’s lifeless body into Shouto’s arms, who lets out a heartwrenching sob. Katsuki scrambles back, and can vaguely register the sound of pink cheeks vomiting behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” becoming increasingly more desperate with each utterance of the word, “FUCK!” Kirishima comes up behind him, picking him off the dust-covered ground and holding him to his chest. “This is all my fault!!!” He wails, “He fucking saved me, I couldn’t- this isn’t right no no NO-”

“Shhhh Katsuki-” Eijirou soothes him through his own tears, always the constant in Katsuki’s life. Well, after Deku.

Deku Deku Deku.

Dead Deku.

Because of you.

Katsuki takes another good look at Deku’s face where Shouto had freaked and discarded him on the ground. The unnatural bend of his arms, the bloody drool escaping his parted- if you can even call that a mouth anymore, his eyes.

And he screams.

He screams and he screams and he screams until someone shakes him so hard he wakes up.

Wait-

“BAKUGO!!! WAKE UP PLEASE-” Shitty hair screams at him, shaking his shoulders desperately as he thrashes in his sheets.

He stills, staring up at Kirishima with a shocked expression.

“Wh-”

“You were having a nightmare,” Kirishima explains, gasping for breath like he just ran a marathon.

Katsuki looks to the doorway where half of the boys in their class stand, expressions varying from worried to shocked.

He looks back at Kirishima, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat, “It- it wasn’t real?”

Katsuki looks to the door, half expecting to see Izuku there.

Missing an ear, you can see his tongue through his cheek.

Katsuki gulps, “Where’s Izuku?” He murmurs into the quiet room.

“Izuku?” Someone in the hallway mutters.

“Uh,” Kirishima catches himself before he can say something dumb, “Izu?- Uh- Midoriya is probably in his room. Didn’t think you’d want him here, but he knows. You kinda woke up the whole dorm.”

Kirishima has barely finished the sentence before he’s jumping out of bed, pajamas be damned, and sprinting toward the stairs. When he gets to Izuku’s floor he makes a hard right, Icyhot shouting something about being nice behind him.

Katsuki can yell at him later.

Running gives him time to think, and the more Katsuki thinks the more he realizes that his nightmare might as well have been a prophecy. Izuku would pull some martyr shit like that, but it was only Katsuki’s fault in the first place that he was put in that situation. He’s the only one to blame. Izuku had done everything right, and Katsuki managed to fuck it up.

Hollow socket, tendons hanging, blood turning his green suit a muddied brown.

Katsuki knocks on the door frantically, scared about what he’ll see when Izuku answers.

There’s some rustling from inside before Izuku peeks out, green curls messy from sleep.

“Wh- I thought Aoyama said you were having a nightmare.” His eyebrows furrow.

“I was,” Katsuki breathes, taking in how whole his rival is. “But it wasn’t real.”

He reaches out hesitantly and brushes an unruly lock of green out of Izuku’s left eye.

“Everything’s where it should be-” He chuckles almost in bewilderment.

He drags his fingers gently down Izuku’s cheek, tracing where the decay had rotted away skin, now whole.

A few of the classmates who followed him gasp in surprise when Katsuki clutches Izuku’s shoulders and buries his face in soft green hair. Completely breaking down as he sobs.

Izuku freezes, terrified of ruining the moment, even though he really wants to ask someone what the fuck is happening.

He gives Kirishima a questioning look as he hesitantly rubs along Katsuki’s back.

The redhead just shrugs.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

Aaaand the damn breaks.

Izuku sobs as Katsuki clutches him tighter, their friends begin to awkwardly back out of the hallway after witnessing whatever that was.

“Wh- Kacchan?” He pulls away reluctantly, but he needs to see Katsuki’s face.

The blond’s eyes are red and puffy, same as his cheeks, but he’s dead serious.

“I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, you’re a really good guy.” He heaves in a breath, “And- I know you’ll be a great hero someday.”

“Kacchan… why?”

Katsuki looks away, “I just- thought about some things,” He doesn’t mention that the thinking involved seeing his classmate’s bloodied corpse, “realized how full of myself I am. You really did just want help on that math homework, huh?” He huffs, shaking his head at his past self.

“I did. What else would I have wanted?”

Katsuki sniffs, angrily rubbing at his eyes, “I don’t know, Izuku. I’m a fucking idiot.”

Izuku smiles sadly, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be your friend, Kacchan.

The blond nods, “Yeah, I think I see that now. Can- can we still do that? Be friends?”

Izuku beams, rubbing his own tears away and pulling Katsuki into another tight hug.

“There’s nothing I want more, Katsuki.”

57 notes · View notes

demonsigh · 3 years

Text

the hunt

rating: lime/mature pairing: male vampire x gender-neutral reader features: touch starvation, safewords, biting, aftercare, cuddling warnings: blood, fear, being chased, dizziness length: 4240 words

Feeling isolated and craving physical intimacy, a college student agrees to be hunted and bitten by a vampire in exchange for a post-meal snuggling session. Based on this prompt submitted to @monsterkinkmeme by @the-color-of-sound-is-space

You were supposed to meet him at 11 PM, in the middle of Bartleby Park. Vampires were nocturnal and uncomfortable in the sun, so the hunt had to take place at night. But did it have to be this late?

It wasn’t as if you were getting tired. You were something of a nocturnal animal yourself nowadays; college tended to do that to people. But the park was pretty creepy this late at night, eerily empty and unnaturally quiet.

You checked your phone again. 11:10 already. He was late. Had he been held up? Or could he have overslept? That thought wrung a quiet chuckle from you — a sound not at all reassuring to hear in the dark silence of the park.

The “he” in question was a vampire named Roland that you’d met on the internet. You were meeting up so he could suck your blood.

For whatever reason, college towns tended to attract vampires. It probably had something to do with the vibrant nightlife, and the bars that never closed, and parties that only ended when the sun rose. Or perhaps it was the rich history of such places, in the old stone buildings and the musty library books. Or maybe it was just the students themselves: curious and open-minded, over-educated and sheltered and a little bit reckless.

In the modern age, most vampires obtained their food in the modern way: in bags, from blood banks or speciality clinics. But there were those who still swore by more natural methods. Many believed that feeding from the source provided physical and mental health benefits. For others, the desire to stalk, and chase, and bite, was simply too strong to resist indulging. Luckily for all, it was not as difficult to find a willing human victim as one might expect.

You discovered a message board that was dedicated to this macabre economy. Vampires would make posts looking for “prey” — humans willing or eager to be bitten. An arrangement would be made for a night of thrilling and dangerous roleplay, where the vampire played the part of the seductive predator, and the human, the helpless victim.

For most of the humans who posted on this forum, being prey was a kink. They enjoyed the thrill of the chase, and the pain of the bite. It was foreplay to them, and the evening inevitably led to sex after their partner’s more pressing appetites were sated.

You became a little obsessed with this message board. You didn’t think you’d mind being bitten; there was something kind of sexy about it. But you weren’t really trying to get laid. What you really wanted was some quality aftercare, a perk that was frequently offered, requested, and discussed on this forum.

College had become something of a lonely experience for you. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, and you weren’t sure where you’d gone wrong. In your freshman year you’d made an effort to be social, starting a number of casual friendships, but none of them really stuck. You were still close to your high school friends, and you talked to them online all the time, but somehow the number of people with whom you had any physical interaction had dwindled down to zero.

It made you lonely in a deep, nagging way. You wanted a hug. You wanted to hold someone’s hand. You daydreamed constantly about these things, setting up elaborate scenarios in your mind that led to someone safe and warm holding you for hours at a time. You felt like these fantasies were reaching a boiling point in your mind. And one night, after drinking several beers by yourself, you made your own post on that message board. You would let someone bite you (hunt optional), in exchange for an evening of snuggling (sex optional).

And that was how you met Roland. He wasn’t the only vampire who replied to your post, but he was the only one who lived within easy walking distance. You agreed to meet at one of the campus cafes and discuss possibilities over coffee.

You recognized him immediately, although you were pretty sure he didn’t recognize you. He was in one of your classes. You frequently spied him from across the lecture hall, tall and good-looking and unapproachable. You’d always thought there was something a little otherworldly about him, but he mostly just looked like another student. You’d had no idea that he wasn’t even human.

And it turned out he wasn’t as intimidating as he looked. He actually seemed pretty nice, even a little bit shy. He’d never fed straight from the skin before — drinking nothing but bagged blood since he was turned — and he wanted to try it at least once. He wasn’t trying to get laid either. Like you, he was much more interested in the aftercare, hoping for something like a cooldown hug once the deed was done. That suited you just fine.

The plan was this: You would meet in Bartleby Park at 11 PM. The exact location didn’t matter, he said; he would come find you. This statement gave you an unexpected thrill. Perhaps the hunting part would be more fun than you’d thought. You would run, and he would chase you. If you screamed, all the better — although this did make a safeword necessary. You chose “cardboard,” the first word that came to your mind, which made him laugh. When he finally caught you, he would bite you on the neck and drink your blood. Then he would take you up to his apartment for first aid and spooning. Simple as that.

Only he wasn’t here yet. It was 11:20 now, and you were still alone. Maybe he was having trouble finding you. Or… was he backing out? That thought stung. You suddenly realized just how much you’d been looking forward to this, and the idea of going home tired and alone made you feel more depressed than ever.

A branch snapped in the trees nearby, and your head whipped toward the sound. Your eyes scanned back and forth across the screen of dark leaves, trying and failing to uncover the culprit.

“Roland?” you whispered. You hadn’t meant to whisper, but suddenly you were having trouble finding your voice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump. It was a text message from your friend:

“How did it go?”

“He’s late, I’m still waiting,” you typed in response.

“Ok… Text me again in an hour or I’m calling the cops.”

Your friends had basically all agreed that this seemed like a bad idea. You were starting to wonder if they were right. You didn’t know Roland at all… even if you knew where he lived and where he went to school. Even if he was cute and he seemed nice.

And even if Roland was fine, Roland wasn’t here. It was late, and the park was deserted. Who knew what other weirdos were prowling around out here.

You were starting to feel genuinely anxious. Beneath the trees, the park was dark, the shadows unaffected by the dim light of the street lamps. What was the safeword again? Cardboard? That was it, right?

There was a rapid noise in the grass behind you — tff tff tff — like something rushing towards you in long leaps. That was the last straw. You launched into a flat-out run, heart hammering, breath coming in gasps.

A pair of cold, hard arms wrapped around you from behind, jerking you to a stop. You screamed at the top of your lungs, and then, almost in the same breath, shouted, “Cardboard cardboard cardboard,” all in a rush; sure that the word would mean nothing to this person; that you were about to be hurt or worse.

But cardboard was the magic word. The arms disappeared from around your chest, and in a flash he was standing in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rough, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

And of course it was only Roland, the very person you had agreed to do this with. He was staring into your face, expression distressed, hands gripping your shoulders.

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. “It was just… scarier than I expected.”

He was slowly shaking his head back and forth. He looked appalled. “Fuck, I am so sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he was apologizing like that, until you suddenly became aware of the wetness on your cheeks, and the ragged sound of your breathing. Were you crying? God, how fucking embarrassing.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing tears from your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Jesus.”

“No no,” said Roland, “don’t apologize. I think I overdid it. ...And I was pretty late, that definitely didn’t help.”

He was looking around now, frowning into the dark woods, and rubbing your shoulders absently. You were hyper-aware of his hands. They were like ice but every pass of them over your shoulders sent a rush of warmth through you. You felt extremely relieved that he was here, even though he was the reason you��d been so scared in the first place. You wished he would hug you — the desire for this was almost overwhelming — but you felt too dazed and embarrassed to ask.

His eyes met yours once again, and his hands slipped from your shoulders, finding their way into his pockets instead — the exact opposite of what you wanted.

“Uh…” he said. “Do you wanna just skip this part and go straight back to my place?”

A wobbly laugh escaped you, and you nodded weakly. “Are you still gonna suck my blood?” you asked.

“Do you still want me to?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled at that. It was a small, almost shy smile, but enough to give you a good look at his fangs. They looked shockingly white and sharp in the dark.

He started to walk in the direction of his apartment, then paused; and looking back, expression uncertain, he held his hand out towards you. You hesitated for just one second. Then you placed your hand in his, and his cold fingers closed tightly around yours.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Your heart was racing again. When was the last time you’d held someone’s hand? You never wanted him to let go.

Neither of you spoke. You wondered if he was feeling as nervous as you were. You’d thought that the scary part was over, but what about what came next? How badly would it hurt when he bit you? He’d never bitten anyone before, he said. How would he react to his first taste?

When you tried to picture it, all you could imagine were his lips pressed against your skin; and his hand cupping the back of your neck, holding you still. They were not unpleasant images. You felt your face heat up, and you were suddenly grateful for the darkness and the cold night air.

It was a fairly short walk. His apartment was a big single-room studio: TV and sofa in one corner, bed and bookcase in another. Rounded doorways branched off into a kitchen and a bathroom. There was a large white-curtained window in the west wall, and moonlight poured in through the glass, illuminating the plush carpet. It was cozy and uncluttered. Roland watched you look around, then looked around himself.

“Maybe in the kitchen?” he asked. He caught your eye, then glanced quickly away. “So we don’t get blood on the carpet.”

How practical. You followed him into the kitchen, forcing yourself to take even breaths as you went. Vampires were supposed to have excellent hearing. Could he hear how fast your heart was beating?

“Want some water?” he asked, opening a cupboard as he spoke. You peered over his shoulder, tickled to see that the only dishes he seemed to own were drinking glasses; no bowls or plates in sight. What would he need a plate for, after all?

He moved around you to fill the glass with water from the sink. He seemed to be avoiding eye-contact, and you wondered again if he was nervous. Somehow the thought made you feel more at ease. Boldly, you opened his refrigerator to examine the contents. Blood bags, and nothing else. Lots of them. Stacks upon stacks, in neat little rows. You couldn’t quite believe it, even though it was exactly what you’d expected to find.

You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but you were afraid it wasn’t good. You turned toward Roland and found him watching you, expression careful; glass of water forgotten in one hand.

“Yeah…” he said.

“Nothing for me?” you asked, grinning, attempting to break the sudden tension.

He grinned back sheepishly. Then he pulled a little juice box out of the pocket of his jacket. It was the kind of thing they gave you after donating blood. You both began to laugh, and a warm, giddy feeling spread through you.

Roland moved closer and patted one of the countertops. “Hop up here?” he asked. You obliged, although it was more of a scramble than a hop. Roland began pulling more small items from the pockets of his jacket, and setting them on the counter next to you: single-use alcohol wipes; a few band-aids; a little roll of gauze, and a roll of medical tape. It became clear to you that he really had intended to bite you in the park, and he had come prepared.

He was standing very close now, almost pressed against your bent knees. You longed to close the distance. You didn’t move. Roland’s movements also grew slower, more hesitant. Stalling.

“Are you nervous?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Why?”

He looked you right in the eye, finally. His expression was serious.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad,” you replied, although you weren’t sure whether you actually believed that.

He frowned, and his eyes travelled down to your neck. He was biting his lip, and his fangs stood out starkly against his skin.

He handed you the glass of water. You drank it. Then you took his hand and gently pulled him closer, spreading your knees wider so he could stand between them. He swallowed visibly.

“I’m nervous too,” you told him.

“I know,” he said, in a hoarse almost-whisper. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Safeword?”

“You can just tell me.”

You were both almost-whispering now, leaning in closer and closer. It felt an awful lot like you were about to share your first kiss.

With one hand, he pulled the collar of your shirt away from your neck, while his other hand slid up to cup the back of your neck. Your heart was hammering with excitement and fear, and his cold fingers felt good against your flushed skin. He lowered his face against your neck, and almost before you knew it his fangs were piercing the skin, creating thin twin wounds that ached immediately. You gasped and grasped handfuls of the fabric of his jacket. Honestly his teeth didn’t hurt much more than a needle, but somehow the reality of it stunned you. He was really going to drink your blood. In that moment, for the first time, you really believed that Roland was something other than human.

His lips closed over the wound. His mouth was wet and unexpectedly hot, and his tongue moved rhythmically against your aching skin as he sucked and swallowed your blood. He made a low sound deep in his throat — the type of contented groan that a good bite of food might inspire. You had to hold your breath to keep from responding in kind.

This was erotic. You couldn’t help thinking of it that way. Your grip on his jacket tightened, and you forced yourself not to squeeze your knees more tightly around his waist. You wondered if he felt it too. Was this exciting him at all? Or was this just a meal to him?

You couldn’t have said how long this went on — it was probably minutes, though it felt longer — but eventually he stopped drinking and pulled away. Somehow a piece of gauze was already in his hand; he pressed it to your neck, holding it firmly against the bite. You stared at each other, both breathing unevenly. His cheeks, so colorless before, were now flushed.

He cleared his throat and licked blood off his lips.

“Are you okay,” he asked, voice rough.

“I’m ok,” you said, although you actually felt a little dizzy. You felt around for the juice box. “Was that enough?”

He nodded his head and grabbed the juice box, pressing it into your reaching hand. He seemed a little dazed. He tore open one of the alcohol wipes, and while you drank your juice he disinfected the bite marks. You hissed at the stinging pain, and he grimaced in sympathy. Then he taped a fresh strip of gauze over the bite.

“It didn’t hurt that bad,” you reported between sips.

“Good,” he said. But he was starting to look unhappy again, frowning as he watched you sip your juice. Your heart sank a little in your chest. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed this as much as you had.

“Are you ok?” you asked him.

He didn’t respond at first. And then he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. You bit back a huff of surprise. He was no longer cold — drinking your blood had warmed his whole body.

“What is it?” you whispered.

He heaved an enormous sigh next to your ear. “You just looked so scared in the park,” he said. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your chest. “I feel really bad.”

You didn’t feel bad. One of his large hands was pressed against your back, warm and reassuring, and the other was cupped around the back of your head. Your chest was pressed flush against his, and he was warm and solid and worried about you. You gave up trying to resist the urge to touch him. You put your arms around him, and squeezed your knees tighter against his waist, pulling him even closer to you. You let your head fall forward to rest against his neck, but as soon as you closed your eyes, the room began to whirl around you.

“Um,” you gasped. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Oh,” he said, a little catch of surprise in his voice. He pulled away. “Um. Let me, uh...”

Carefully, he slipped his hand under your knees, and gathered you up into his arms. You threw your own arms around his neck, shamelessly clinging to him as he carried you out of the kitchen with no apparent effort. He paused in the doorway and looked down at you.

“The bed or the couch?” he asked.

“The bed,” you said against his chest, hoping that this was not too bold. He didn’t seem to think so. He carried you across the room, careful not to jostle you, and gently laid you down on top of the comforter.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

You nodded your head. You were quite cold, actually; another effect of the blood loss.

Roland stood and went over to a small closet, where he retrieved a stack of thick, warm-colored blankets. He shook them out and draped them over you in layers, and their warm weight made you feel better almost immediately.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No problem,” he replied. He stood by the side of the bed, unmoving. He seemed to be struggling for words. “Um… Do you still want to…”

“Yes,” you said emphatically, and you peeled back the blankets to make space for him.

He looked self-conscious, but he didn’t hesitate. He crawled under the blankets, and carefully pulled you into his arms, settling your head against his shoulder. His body was still warm with your blood, and you pressed into him eagerly.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“It’s perfect,” you said. You placed your hand flat on his chest, then sighed happily, which made him laugh. He laid his hand over yours, curling his fingers around it.

That was almost too much. Your chest felt fit to burst with it. You kept waiting to wake up, sure that you must have dreamt this whole thing. You still couldn’t believe he’d drunk your blood. His teeth had been inside of you. And as much as that weirded you out, it kind of turned you on too.

You suddenly remembered that you were supposed to text your friends back. You shifted around, and Roland loosed his hold on you to let you pull your phone out of your pocket.

“I’m letting my friends know you didn’t murder me,” you explained as you typed. You’d meant it as a joke, but you regretted the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you hurried to say, turning in his arms to face him, and wincing at the pain in your neck. “I didn’t really think you would…”

He shook his head before you could say anything else. “It’s ok. Biting someone…” He ran a hand through his hair as he thought. “Well, it’s an inherently violent act. Some people get carried away. Your friends weren’t wrong to be worried.”

“I feel safe with you though,” you said.

“Oh. Good.” He ducked his head, and his cheeks turned the pinkest they’d been all night. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest. He was really adorable… You hadn’t expect that, watching him from afar. You pulled closer to him, putting your arms around him and laying your head against his chest. He tucked the blankets more snugly around your shoulders.

“This is really nice,” you said.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“How did you like biting me?” You forced the words out before you could lose your nerve. You hoped you weren’t making it awkward, but you had to know.

Roland didn’t answer at first. Then he let out a breath, and slid one of his hands over his face. “Not gonna lie,” he said. “It was way better than drinking bagged blood.”

“Oh, good!” you said, laughing. “I’m glad. I was worried you didn’t like it.”

“I definitely liked it…” he said, still covering his face. “You taste amazing.”

You felt your face turn bright red. There was a double-entendre in there somewhere, although you guessed it was unintentional. I’d like to taste you next, you thought wildly, and once again, you found yourself wondering if you were the only one whose mind had wandered into the gutter tonight.

He seemed to sense your sudden discomfort, if not its source, because he uncovered his face and said, “I’m sorry, that was a super weird thing to say.”

You shook your head against his chest. “I liked it too,” you admitted. “When you bit me.” Then, still more softly: “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again sometime.”

You heard him swallow. “I’d like that.”

You lapsed into a warm silence, untroubled and comfortable, and you basked in his presence like a cat in sunlight. You were aware of every part of him that was pressed against you: his chest rising and falling beneath you, and his hands pressed against your back, and his legs tangled with yours beneath the blankets, chaste but intimate, and ripe with potential.

You definitely wanted to kiss him. You opened your mouth to float the idea, but you were overcome by an enormous yawn. You suddenly realized you had no idea what time it was. It felt really late, but maybe you were just tired out from all the excitement.

“Was I falling asleep?” you asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“I should probably get home,” you said, but then made no move to get up. You heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t wanna go yet though,” you complained, “I’m so cozy.”

“Do you wanna stay here?”

You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “Stay the night?”

“We don’t have to do anything weird,” he said, turning pink again. You stared at each other for a moment. Then he gently pushed your head back down to his chest, so that you weren’t looking at him when he said, “I don’t wanna let you go yet.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. As if you weren’t already convinced. “I won’t throw off your day? I mean your night?”

You felt him shrug. “I was just gonna do homework.”

That drew a surprised laugh out of you. You’d almost forgotten that Roland wasn’t just your weird vampire hookup. He was your classmate too.

“Do you know that we’re in the same class?” you asked, playfully accusing.

“Yeah,” he admitted, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. “I recognized you when we got coffee.”

That surprised you. “I thought I was the only one,” you said.

“I noticed you sitting in back sometimes.” His hand was still resting against the side of your head, and his fingers moved absently through strands of your hair. “I thought you looked cool.”

“Good,” you said, which made him laugh. You grinned against his chest. “I want to stay. Can I?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice soft, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around you.

#exophilia #monster romance #monster boyfriend #vampire boyfriend #monsterkinkmeme #sighs writing

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Note

Hello there! Would you please consider writing a fic where maybe Leo or a fan wears a dress or paints his nails or something else feminine and gets bullied online so the entire team then starts wearing dresses out in retaliation? I think Leo is the perfect example of flipping the V to normative gender ideals

Hi! Thank you for this ask. I hope you don't mind, but I kind of took this as inspiration and ran with it. I used Finn just because it fits my own personal headcanons that he would be the one that would be a bit more adventurous fashion wise, although I definitely agree Leo is the nail painter in that relationship! I hope you like it!

Apologies for the excessive use of italics in this fic!

CW: food mentions, some swearing, implied Instagram bullying and a child with very mild illness (hay fever).

Rating: T

Let me know if you think I missed anything or need to change the rating.

All characters in this fic are from Sweater Weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

“Are you going to take that dress off?” June asked, blowing on the undercoat she’d just applied to her nails. Finn’s eyes dropped from the TV screen to the black fabric draping over his body. He brushed his fingers over the material, enjoying the texture of the sheer polka dots that decorated the dress. From afar, they were difficult to see, but at this distance they shined. His own little secret.

“No,” Finn replied, the word slipping from his mouth felt foreign, as if he hadn’t chosen to say it. “ Is that okay?”

“It’s generally considered polite to ask before you borrow people’s clothing, but sure, why not?” A loud cheer erupted from the TV notifying Finn the score on the basketball game he had been watching had changed. He desperately wanted to check it, but he continued to hold June’s gaze. “The Knicks,” June offered and Finn breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you going to wear it out later?” She didn’t wait for his reply, proffering two bottles of polish for Finn’s perusal, a redcurrant and a mauve.

“The red,” Finn decided after a beat. “No, I think I’ll get changed before we go to the theatre.”

“Alright then,” June hummed, glancing at her cell. “Logan is trying to call you, by the way.”

“Yes, my cell, I know exactly where that is,” Finn muttered to himself, stabbing at the remote to pause the TV. It took a few minutes of searching, the device hidden between the folds of the bean bag he was lounging on, but eventually Logan’s face was filling all 6.1 inches of the screen. “Lo!”

“Hey.”

Finn loved the greeting on Logan’s tongue, one of those that he never seemed to be able to stop his accent dripping through. Finn thought perhaps the sentiment was painted on his face, Logan peering at him curiously through the lens. “Isn’t that June’s dress?”

The dress. Finn had forgotten all about it. “Yes.”

He hadn’t meant for the reply to be said with such abruptness, but it felt good, all the tension coiling in his chest being released in the word.

Logan’s expression was challenging, similar to that June had given him earlier. “I was just going to say you look better in it.”

“Oh.”

June unfurled her legs from beneath her, throwing herself into view of the screen, her left hand held awkwardly in front of her. “I’m right here, Tremblay!”

***

“Love, you need to get out of the kitchen. You’re being very distracting.”

Finn frowned at Leo’s statement. “I’m not doing anything?” And for once, he wasn’t. He wasn’t trying to guess the weight of irrelevant objects. He wasn’t playing with the stray bits of dough Leo had left aside for decoration. He wasn’t even relaying facts about his current favourite interest. Finn was just watching.

Sometimes he liked to do that. He liked seeing Leo’s long fingers curled around the handle of the knife, his movements fluid and confident, his expression soft with quiet concentration. Occasionally, he’d cock his head, humming contemplatively and Finn could take the opportunity to offer his taste buds.

“It’s not a you problem, it’s a me problem,” Leo chuckled, setting the knife down on the chopping board. “I keep looking up and you’re just -” Finn followed Leo’s gaze as it wandered down to the exposed skin between Finn’s t-shirt and his skirt. “- I’m trying to meal prep and it’s going to take all week at this rate.”

The t-shirt had belonged to Logan, an old Harvard hockey throwback that had managed to make it through several wardrobe purges, so, whilst it was wide enough for Finn, the length was awkward. He hadn’t really considered his boyfriend’s reactions as he’d cut the item to fall several inches above his belly button, the crop looking far more purposeful than it previously had.

“Oh this old thing, I just threw it on,” Finn smirked, as he pushed off the counter he'd been leaning on. He rounded the island, stealing a carrot as he passed, until he planted himself in front of Leo. "Do you want help? It'd be quicker?"

"Now we both know neither of those things are true." Leo raised a critical eyebrow, his laughter smooth and sweet. He turned to face Finn more fully, his hand reaching to pass the forest green material of Finn's skirt through his fingers. "I like this colour on you."

"It has pockets! I totally get why Lily's always shouting about them. They're very convenient." Finn shoved his hands in the well-concealed pocket, pulling his cell from its depths. "See."

"Nice," Leo said, his smile making the edges of his face crinkle. "How about you let me finish up here and then we can find Lo and get his opinion on this outfit?"

"Fine," Finn groaned, resisting the temptation to draw Leo in a hug, and perhaps something more. "I'm gonna go and look over that report the accountant sent over. Do you want me to check yours over too?"

"Please," Leo nodded, his smile growing wider. "You're the best."

"You feed me, I make sure you don't get arrested, that's what relationships are all about, right?"

"Right," Leo ran his fingers over the skirt one last time and stepped back to put some space between them. Finn turned to leave, barely getting a few paces in before Leo called him. "Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Just one kiss now would be okay."

Finn shook his head, letting Leo draw him back in with a chuckle. Leo's hands, always warm, settled on Finn's waist and he leaned down to press their lips together.

***

Finn winced as Aveline sneezed again, the forceful burst of air covering his sweater in droplets. He felt sorry for her; she was struggling with a bout of hay fever that was making her red-nosed and irritable, but the sweater was one of Finn’s favourites. A vintage, hand knitted blue thing he’d found in a thrift store in Cambridge for an absolute steal. Back then, it had been the scene of Bambi and his friends on it that had grasped Finn’s attention, however, he’d come to love it for its perfect fit and the fact it never failed to spark a conversation.

“Harzy, thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Finn tried not to let his relief show too much seeing Kris’ approach, his arms outstretched to gather his daughter. “I can’t even put her down to go to the bathroom at the moment without her screaming.”

Finn chuckled, holding a wriggling Aveline tighter to stop her launching herself before her father was close enough. “Papa!” she cried, the exclamation melded neatly into a large yawn.

“Come, mon chou,” Kris soothed, letting Aveline bury her face into the crook of his neck and playing a gentle pattern with his fingers over her back. “Let’s go and see if Vroom-vroom has any magic up his sleeve, ey? He always knows what to do.”

“Vroom-vroom?” Finn whispered the question.

“Sergei,” Kris explained with a gleeful smile despite the tiredness etched into his face. He shifted Aveline into a more comfortable position. “Thanks again for holding her.”

“Anytime.”

Finn had barely been alone in the Dumais’ second living room for a minute when Katie came crashing in. He wondered briefly if he should redirect her back to the other room where everybody was gathered, the thought quickly interrupted by Katie tugging on the hem of his skirt. “Can you spin again? Please?”

Unable to resist her large doe eyes, Finn twirled for her, his skirt swirling and billowing around him until he began to go dizzy.

“Encore! Encore!”

Finn didn’t need Logan around to translate that for him, he’d seen enough Broadway shows to understand the request.

“No more, Katie Belle. I’m going to puke,” Finn laughed, lifting Katie into his arms. “You’re growing too quickly! I swear you were only this big the last time I saw you,” he teased, spreading the thumb and index finger of his free hand a few inches apart.

“I’ll be as tall as you soon!” Katie giggled, patting Finn on his head.

“Then you can carry me,” Finn teased. He was just reaching to bop Katie on the nose when the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter closing grabbed his attention.

“Logan!” Katie gasped, struggling in Finn’s arms for a second like little Aveline had done. “Put me down.”

Finn obliged, watching Katie run toward Logan with a fond smile.

“Did you fix it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Ouais,” Logan nodded, “I gave it back to Maja.”

“Merci, merci, merci!” Katie wrapped her arms around Logan’s hips in a hug before running off, presumably to find Maja.

Finn crossed the room, opening his arms for Logan to walk into. He rested his chin on Logan’s head, breathing in the familiar smell of his shampoo. “What were you up to?”

“Just taking a photo of two of my favourite people,” Logan mumbled into Finn’s chest.

“Can I see?”

“Oui, it’s very cute. ” Logan stepped back, pulling the photo up onto the screen. It was a nice one, both Finn and Katie’s head tipped back slightly with bright laughter. Finn tracked down the photo, Katie’s legs clinging to his waist where the faux leather skirt started. He breathed in, filling his lungs with air and then expelling it quickly.

“Post it.”

Logan looked at him, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Not really, but I’m fed up with changing my clothes all the time and I’m surprised I haven’t been papped anyway. I’d rather do this on my own terms. It’s a fucking skirt, it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Tell me to do it again,” Logan reached out a hand, squeezing gently as Finn took it.

“Post it.”

***

“Stop reading,” Leo sighed, plucking Finn’s cell from his hand.

Finn matched his sigh, burying his head into his hands. He didn’t need to look at the screen anyway, the words burned into his eyes. How anybody had looked at a photo of two people, one of whom was a child, laughing and had churned out hatred was mystifying to him. Finn had been expecting that though, he’d been around long enough to know there were some assholes out there. When he’d replied to one of the nicer ones he hadn’t really considered how he would feel about that going viral. About becoming the face of something he hadn’t really asked for.

Roaringlion17: Harzy! This fit is spectacular, I love the skirt <3 I just wanted to ask if you are trans and what pronouns you would like us to use?

OfficialFOHara: @roaringlion17 Thank you! He/him pronouns are great! I’m not trans. I just think it’s dumb that boys can’t wear skirts. Or dresses for that matter. I like clothes, not boxes.

The reply had now been featured on every gossip column possible and was beginning to filter into more esteemed news too. One of them had even called him, the face of a revolution, which had made Finn cringe. He supposed it was better than the hateful slurs his PR team were battling to keep off the photo.

“Hey,” Logan took the seat next to Finn where he’d slumped himself at the dining table. “Look at me.” Finn lifted his head, meeting Logan’s eyes, the deep green something he wanted to get lost in right now. He thought Logan was going to ask for the thousandth time if Finn wanted him to delete it, but all he got was the fierce, determined gaze Logan sported on the ice. “This is going to pass. Tomorrow, somebody will cheat on somebody and you will be old news. Do you want to see something?”

Finn nodded. He didn’t know what he was consenting to, but he trusted Logan to make it something that would make him smile. Leo dragged another of the chairs around to sit on Finn’s left hand side, setting his confiscated cell in front of him, the Instagram app open to Thomas’ profile. Logan leaned forward, tapping on the latest photo.

Thomas’ smile was wide as he sat on a window sill, kicking out the long zebra print skirt cloaking his legs. The caption underneath read ‘You’re just jealous that I wear it better than you! #boyswearskirtstoo’

“That’s -”

“Wait a second,” Logan reached for the phone again, setting it down with a picture of James’ visible. He was wearing an ochre coloured corduroy skirt that clearly belonged to Lily, the fabric straining on thighs. I’m feeling myself in this, tbh. Please hold whilst I order one in my size #boys wearskirtstoo.

Finn snorted, the sound wet with the tears he was struggling to hold back.

The hashtags kept coming.

Cap and Loops in their respective jersey’s tucked into pleated skirts. These Lions know fashion is not gendered #boyswearskirtstoo

Ollie in a shimmering gold knee length piece. Shine bright! #boyswearskirtstoo

Nado, Kuny, Smitty and Kane, arms slung around one another's shoulders, all wearing varying shades of pink. On Wednesdays, we wear pink #boyswearskirtstoo. Finn would bet good money that Kuny was behind that caption.

Dumo, Sergei and their wives, alongside their troupe of children, each one of them wearing a different coloured tutu. Dumo had opted to just include the hashtag, or rather his social media team had, because the man himself most definitely did not know how to upload the photo.

Kasey and Natalie looked effortlessly cool dressed in white tennis skirts and floral bomber jackets. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about? #boyswearskirtstoo

Alex was wearing a very similar black skirt to Finn's in his photo. Who wore it better? #boyswearskirtstoo #thatsmylittlebrother

“He’s an idiot, but I love him,” Finn laughed wetly.

“There’s more,” Logan smirked as he tapped at the screen again, almost brimming with an excited energy. He placed the cell back down, leaving his hand to block the next photo a little longer. Finn grabbed the device as soon as Logan revealed the image.

It was perfect.

Leo and Logan lounged on the sofa, a little further apart than they would normally sit. Leo clutching his favourite mug and Logan with sketchpad in hand. They both looked easy in their outfits, as if the skirts were a part of them. Leo’s was long, hitting just above his ankle, a navy lining coated in a tulle that was embellished with celestial bodies. Logan was looking at the camera, his eyes just visible under the brim of his cap. His skirt was shorter, the denim flaring over his thick thighs. In this house we respect people’s right to wear whatever the fuck they want #boyswearskirtstoo

Finn stopped trying to fight the tears, letting the moisture well in his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked out, pushing himself from his chair. Leo and Logan had their arms around him before he could ask. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” He couldn’t seem to make the words stop, his body shaking with sobs, his boyfriend’s arms remaining sure around him until Finn wiped at his face and muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Leo swept his thumb over Finn’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “What can we do? What do you need?”

Finn let out a heavy breath, leaning into Logan’s hold. “I think I want to send a thank you to the group chat and then snacks and cuddles? I can deal with the world tomorrow.”

“Okay then, snacks and cuddles. We deal with the world tomorrow.”

#finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #rating: t #cw: food #cw: implied bullying #cw: swearing #cw: minor illness #sweater weather #lumosinlove

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