Tumgik
#ill post something to offend god when im up
sincerelyhannibal · 16 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
423 notes · View notes
fala-alfredo-pasta · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I accidentally deleted this ask im so sorry OTL
thank god i screenshot my asks so I can answer em during work instead of like...actually working lol
But you bring up something I always thought would need to be address between Izuru and Nagito and that's Nagito's resentment towards him. I didn't even think about how Izuru's "luck" would offend Nagito but honestly yeah I can see that because I can also see Nagito just being generally mad and envious towards Izuru's whole existence. Hear me out k, because I do enjoy the aspect of Nagito becoming overwhelmed with Hope fanboyness when he meets Izuru and we see within game (anime aside) that he can very well perceive Izuru's talents and Nagito becomes very intrigued to learn more about him. But I just can't get over how Nagito would...react so badly once he learns the truth of who Izuru was and how he became Izuru Kamukura. Just imagine learning that Hope's Peak was creating their own form of Ultimate Hope and they chose a RESERVE COURSE student over you? It could have been ANYONE. It could have been NAGITO. It would have made so much sense for it be Nagito given how
1. He has no relatives. Hell he doesn't even have friends. You only need his permission alone. And if something goes wrong? It's not like anyone's going to ask questions or care. No one will probably even notice.
2. He's more than willing to do it. He's Hope's Peak no. 1 stan. There would be no hesitation. No cold feet. Nagito would say he was blessed.
3. He's already going to die. He's terminally sick. If anything this surgery could be actually life saving for him. But if some people DO start asking questions well there's your built in alibi. "Nagito Komaeda? Unfortunately he passed due to illness. You see-"
4. His luck would increase the odds of success. This was a completely experimental surgery where so much could go wrong. But if there's something that Nagito's luck guarantees it's his survival one way or another. Wouldn't HP researchers want whatever advantages they can get?
5. He already has luck. The only talent that is virtually impossible to replicate. He'd make a closer "Ultimate Hope" given that he truly would have ALL the talents.
Nagito would make this analysis so fast after hearing the details of the Kamukura project. Then to add insult to injury this "Ultimate Hope" the school created didn't even stay loyal and quickly became one of the first members of Ultimate Despair? Really? Nagito would have done so much better! (is how Nagito would see it)
I can't help but feel that Nagi would view Izuru as a false idol and have very mixed feelings towards him as a result. Post game I believe he'd be a lot more civil towards Izuru given everything that happened in game. But before that? Nah chief, with the way Nagito reacted in chapter 5 after learning the truth I find it hard to believe he WOULDN'T act absolutely vile towards Izuru when he finds out his backstory. Do not underestimate how bitter Nagito can get as we so clearly saw in game what that resulted to. This boi takes shit really personal and I love that about him.
31 notes · View notes
Note
🦋🌈,💌
🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?
hmm i guess i worry that people will somehow be offended/upset by it? which is pretty irrational considering i write pretty tame stuff compared to a lot of td fics that are out there but im still an anxious mf. ive also gotten weird about the word count in that it HAS to end in a 0 or a 5 but 0 is ideal. but i write in the pages app and so the word count on that and ao3 is a little different so sometimes ill post a fic that i think has an even word count and then it shows up on ao3 differently and then ill panic and add/subtract a few words from the fic to make it right before anyone sees even though i am definitely the only person who cares about this. im weird about numbers
🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?
OH MY GOD hawaiian style KICKED MY ASS!!!! i literally wrote three different versions of the first chapter because i could not get it to work i stg that fic was like pulling teeth. i was also visiting my family for thanksgiving around the time i was writing it so i had no privacy and would go to the library to write it and stay there until it got dark out because i was so determined to finish that fic as slippery slopes was on something of a hiatus and i wanted to give you guys more story before the year ended. writing that fic mentally and physically exhausted me lmao
💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
im working on my courtney time travel au and we are getting closer and closer to one of the first major turning points of the fic!! im ~5 chapters away from a moment ive been excited to write for MONTHS. my goal is to get to that scene before july as by then it will have been a year since i started working on this fic!! im 20 chapters/50k words/200 pages in and only roughly a third of the way through the fic. so im definitely strapping myself in for the long haul on this one but when the time finally comes that it's complete and i start posting it i will literally be so excited to share it with you all!! and so proud of it
7 notes · View notes
joshriku · 2 years
Note
hi! I really enjoyed your last cherik fic list, you have great taste. do you have more recs about old cherik? maybe also some post dark phoenix (I mean, they were supposed to be old but they forgot lol). only when you have the time!
you're so lovely omg thank you! i do!! here u go
get out of town by firstlightofeos: i recently read this and it's so fucking good omg. i am not immune to tropes where a 3rd character has to be like 'can you guys get over yourselves and FUCK' and especially if it's old men cherik :sob: OF ALL PEOPLE. THEY NEED IT SO BADç
all you are made of by fengirl88: oghgojoOGH theres this bit:
“Two minutes to make you drop it,” Charles says, mock-outraged. “I must be losing my touch.”
“Menace,” Erik says lovingly, “stop distracting me.”
IT REALLY LIKE......FUCKS UP WITH MY MENTAL HEALTH...........LIKE SHUT UP HE LOVES HIM SO MUCH. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH. IM GOING TO DIE
tempus fugit by franzbibliotek: the character writing on this one is so fucking insane. you have to work with me here bc this is comic cherik and comics just have things happen in them. . anyway charles comes back from the dead after stealing a body that's like in it's mid 30s, jsut, your casual stuff. anyway. holy shit. charles' inner monologue on this mmmmmwah im fucking obssessed
pillow talk by pearl_o: i might have recced this already BUT IT BEGS RECCING AGAIN this is literally my favorite kind of fics where they just. lie next to each other. talk for a while. they're old and in love :(
a day when we can finally rest by pocky_slash: i am no timmune to fics where they depict how long they both have waited and waited to be together because it makes me cry ok. wow. love can thrive and continue and they jsut lvoe each other so much :( FUCK!!!!!
pity the man by franzbibliothek: this is kinda angsty i will warn you since i usually just read happy stuff but it's GOOD ok. pre dark phoenix when charles is just like on his 90th mental breakdown,. my g od. the way op writes charles. you get it.
adventures in babysitting (worried grandpa remix) by sebastian2017: literally my favorite thing about erik is that he's a grandpa. okay. it might be bc tommy is my fave character but i am just,,,,,,,,SOBSBSBS... DO U KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
one night in westchester by brotherfromanothermother: this is literally the funniest fuckign fic in the world. just. old man magneto buying condoms. it makes me cry. i lvoe it
close enemies by andraste: i might have recced this? MAYBE? but this is animated series cherik. and if i have recced it..THEN ILL DO IT AGAIN. THOSE SAVAGE LAND EPISODES WERE INSANE
habitual by xtinethepirate: i love dark phoenix cherik. i love erik in this fic. i like when fic writers write erik caring for charles but not being overly indulging like he Is willing to call him out. ESPECIALLY post dp cherik. SO GOOD.
marks by unforgotten: i love. i love. love the idea of erik 'kidnapping' charles and him being too busy grading to pay attention to him. which offends him greatly. i think magneto should always be funny and dramatic.
necessary downtime by unforgotten: AND THEYRE MARRIED. OOOH MY GOD THEY WERE MARRIED. not related to me also being a teacher but i love when it's just fics like charles being really tired from school work. he's so me. that's also me. finally realistic mcs
fossils (the something old, something new remix): AHHGHGHG I LTIERALYJL CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF FICS WHERE THEY GET TO ENJOY BEING MARRIED LIKE. ITS SO GOOD. IT MAKES ME CRY SO MUCH . MAYBE OLD MEN IN LOVE ARE MORE EFFECTIVE THAN THERAPY..? JURY IS OUT ON THIS ONE
rue de la paix by ireliss: (THROWIGN UP AND CRYING) GOODNESS. MOURNING. OLD MEN. TOUCH STARVED CHARACTERS. IT CANT GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS. post dark phoenix
everything about it is a love song: if i told you how many times i cried reading this id have to be taken out and immobilized. it's bad out here. it is really bad out here!!!!! (ITS A REALLY GOOD FIC!! I LOVE IT!!) it's probably one of my fave old men fic ever just like someplace that is green which was on my other post but its osjhfddohfdj ITS OSO OGHG OGGH OGH!!!!!!
sing me to sleep: i love dofp cherik. I do. i love them so fukcing bad i love seeing those old men reunited and helping each other and being deeply in love despite the world going to shit it is SO deeply personal to me this fi ci ss os much.
the o(l)dd couple: i love fics that involve the press and such reactions to Them. and outsider pov is always so enjoyable. i love this fic i think its one of the first few i read?? SO GOOD
into the open by clockworkrobots: i just. this fic is so good. it's like the first fic i bookmarked almost. the tag erik's gay socialist farm island cracks me up every time then ir ead this and i sob and cry again fr
hope u enjoy!!
16 notes · View notes
Text
introduction !!!
hii !!!! my name is Violet. i am a really big fan of art & whatnot (basic). i have been taking on a little bit of a personal challenge 2 listen 2 at least one new album every day & ive been working on that challenge for about 1.5 years now !!! i looove talking about art and sharing my thoughts and 4 the past year or so i have been posting all my thoughts and media analysis and whatnot onto my Instagram story, but i have always wanted 2 start posting my thoughts somewhere that is more.... permanent, i guess? bc Instagram stories expire after 24 hours yk. anyways. i finally made a Tumblr blog !!!!! i am COMPLETELY new 2 Tumblr. so i apologize in advance if my blog is like informal or not very "good" quality by Tumblr standards or whatever else i will get better !!!
here is what u can expect from this page:
i am going to post music reviews/recommendations most likely, as well as film & literature & all of that stuff. whenever i see a piece of media that interests me enough 2 want 2 talk abt it im gonna use this blog 2 share my thoughts !!!!
i also am really interested in philosophy, i am only just now formally getting into it, but i have been thinking about that sort of stuff and asking questions like that 4ever. erm. i wouldnt call myself a philosopher bc that feels pretentious but i aspire 2 be a philosopher eventually. ill probably post abt that sort of stuff as well. i am also VERY interested in sociology, psychology, anthropology, political science... pretty much anything like that. i just love learning about things in general EVERYTHING is so fascinating 2 me but especially humanity.
i am a bit interested in politics as well !!!! i dont like to use any labels 4 my political ideas bc i feel like those can be limiting & contribute 2 close-mindedness but if i had 2 describe my alignment in any way i am probably pretty far-left. although i am completely open 2 hearing everyone's ideas!
i might also post about other things as well, im not sure yet !!!
some info abt me:
i am a girl, so, she/her pronouns ig !
i am 16 years old (well im 15 but i turn 16 in two weeks)
i am a member of the LGBTQ community
my handle on most social media sites is yourdadcosplay if u want 2 follow me anywhere else !!! (i dont do cosplay or anything~ when i was 13 i heard some guy on tiktok say the phrase "your dad cosplay" and i thought that combination of words was super funny so i made it into my username on instagram and then it just kind of stuck. and i use that on everything now. only reason i didnt use it 4 my tumblr is bc i didnt want ppl 2 think my blog was a cosplay blog or something idk)
my favorite music artists r: Black Country New Road, Kimya Dawson, Death Grips, Xiu Xiu, and Car Seat Headrest !!!!
my favorite album of all time is Ants From Up There and my favorite movie of all time is Everything Everywhere All at Once, both of those pieces came out in the year 2022.
my favorite book is the manga Goodnight Punpun by Inio Asano, and its actually the book that made me fall in love with literature.
im currently working on creating my own website!!! i dont know anything about HTML though, so it will be a long process.
i dont believe in astrology rlly but i am a Gemini.
my iq is 122 or something around that i dont remember the number i just remember im in the 93rd percentile
i am an INFP
Tumblr media
boundaries:
i do try my absolute best to be open-minded and tolerant towards everyone's ideas and beliefs; even those which i disagree with. i actually encourage ppl who disagree with anything i say 2 challenge me or discuss/debate with me. that being said, if u r not willing 2 have a civil and open-minded discussion with me, and if ur only interest is arguing, then i will ask u 2 pls leave me alone. i love talking 2 ppl who have ideas different than my own, but i do not wish 2 engage in any immature internet beefs or anything of that sort.
pls, 4 the love of god, if u r the type of person who gets offended over every little thing; if u r more concerned with petty discourse & things that have no significance 2 any real-life problems; if u lack media literacy; or if u r otherwise just unintelligent, then PLEASE dont interact with my page.
i try my absolute best 2 be a good person. if i ever do anything that u find 2 be morally offensive (this is not just if i say something that makes u feel a bit of angst, but if i say something that u feel is actually problematic.) or if we r interacting directly & i make u uncomfortable, PLEASE TELL ME! i hate it when ppl have problems with me that could easily be resolved but they just dont tell me. it makes me anxious.
also, pls note:
just because i talk about a certain piece of media or art or literature on this blog does not necessarily mean that i agree with the ideas expressed in that blog or even that i like that piece. i try my best to think 4 myself and i do not take all of the ideas that r expressed 2 me as the absolute truth. just because i read any given book does not mean that i necessarily agree with its ideas; the same goes 4 all of the topics i discuss here.
as a large part of this blog is abt media discussion & whatnot, i want 2 say that i am absolutely open 2 any art. and i will not avoid any piece of media just because it is allegedly problematic.
most of this page is dedicated 2 sharing and discussing my ideas on various topics like art, philosophy, politics, and such. i dont think that im going 2 be posting or saying anything that is incredibly morally offensive or anything, and 2 be honest i dont even think my ideas r particularly radical or controversial, but, if there ever does come a time when i might have a potentially controversial idea, i wont hesitate 2 share it. im not going 2 censor myself or sugarcoat my beliefs on this blog just 2 avoid discourse.
all of that being said, this blog is not 2 be taken 100% seriously either. i will talk abt serious topics on here, but i like 2 laugh as well! u should not assume that anything i say is 100% serious or 100% satirical. that SHOULD be a given, but on my Instagram account, i have had a worrying amount of interactions with ppl who got mad at me 4 things bc they assumed i was serious when i wasnt or vice versa.
ok, that is all !!! thx 4 reading !!!
4 notes · View notes
cloud-9ine · 3 years
Text
Cable Shocks
⤷ pairing - denki kaminari x reader
⤷ fandom - bnha
⤷ warnings - slight angst, hurt/comfort, illness, exploitation
⤷ summary - you notice the other class 1-a students using denki’s quirk for their favours, and you catch him later paying the price
⤷ word count - 3.2k+
Tumblr media
Denki Kaminari was a giver.
He gave his help, he gave his laughter, he gave his love, and recently, he was beginning to give himself, too.
It started off innocently: he showed the Class 1-A students his party trick- look at that, he can charge phones! After that, the others had regularly come to him in need of their devices being charged, or electricity constantly pumped into something that only he could provide. And Denki, being a giver, well, he never said no.
It didn’t matter to him that it would make him short circuit, it didn’t matter to him that they would laugh, it didn’t even matter to him that all he could taste every evening was acid.
Denki Kaminari was a giver, and he was prepared to give his life.
Your class common room was never empty. At any given time, there was always at least two of your classmates in there- no exceptions. If you wanted to make tea in the early morning, Iida and Yaoyorozu would greet you with beaming grins unbecoming of such an unnatural time. Alternatively, if you wanted to cry at 3 AM, you would lay your eyes on Tokoyami and Jirou plunged into the darkness, leaving you to wonder whether they were just acting off or if they were summoning a demon to curse those who have wronged them.
At this moment, Denki was sat on the centre sofa, three cables stuck between his teeth. Beside him sat Mina, eagerly chatting to Kirishima who sat opposite to her on a plush chair with Sero lounged over the arm of it. The three looked content, but you couldn’t help but notice the stiffness at which Denki was disposed, concentration knotting his brows as he worked on keeping the sparks flowing through the wires.
You slipped into the room, deciding on the space on the other side of Denki. The other occupants of the room gave you a quick hello before returning to their previous conversations. With the exception of Denki, obviously, who seemingly forgot his task the moment he heard your name mentioned. His eyes sparkled once he saw you, his head turning to the side as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Hey, Kaminari, you’re dropping the wires!” Sero snickered, eyeing up the way Denki looked down in alarm.
“Only 27%? Come on, I need more than that!” Mina whined, shoving the cables back into the spooked boy’s mouth. He looked at you apologetically, attempting to convey something with wild gestures that you couldn’t begin to comprehend. You laughed, patting the top of his head to quell his struggles.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just chill, yeah?” He paused, dropping his hands to his lap and nodding. You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his before pulling your phone out. Denki squinted at the object, as if it had personally offended him. Grinning, you shook your head.
“Fully charged. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” His expression softened, cheeks glowing a slight pink at your words. You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, ending up slumped against Denki’s side, who in return leaned into you.
“And so basically, I told him he was nuts, right?” The careless ramblings of Mina was enough to get you to relax, scrolling aimlessly through your friend’s Instagram posts. Ochako had posted a weirdly aesthetic picture of mochi, Midoriya had posted a picture of Ochako, Iida was posting about cyber-bullying, the works.
Being in physical contact with Denki while he was in charging mode, you noticed, made your hair float up like static electricity. You didn’t mind this, taking to flattening down your hair every once in a while during your relaxation. It was easy to let go with your classmates- the gentle lull of the voices of the others mixed with the pleasant buzz of Denki’s skin against yours made for a comforting experience that almost made you fall asleep.
“Hey dunce face!” Denki jumped at the sound of Bakugo’s voice, his elbow jutting into your side and forcing you to tense up. He didn’t seem to notice your subtle glare, however, as his attention was focused on the other boy that had slammed open the door (not that Bakugo seemed entirely angry today, but it was just his natural disposition that made every action of his aggressive).
“H-Hey bro! What’s up?” Bakugo didn’t respond to Kirishima’s words, further ignoring the similar muffled greeting that Denki managed to let out.
“I need this charged,” he grumbled, moving to Denki and shoving a fourth wire in his mouth. You frowned, eyeing up the two boys wearily. The screens of the current phones flashed, an indication that he wasn’t putting in enough charge. He gulped as Bakugo stomped back out the room, his eyes squeezing shut as he amped up the electricity.
As if a switch had been flipped, Denki’s blonde locks frizzed up before succinctly falling back down to his head. You stared at him, eyes widened as the wires dropped to the ground.
“Wheeeee!” His body fell into you, thumbs sticking out with a goofy smile painted onto his face. A small smile pushed passed your lips as you grabbed a pillow and placed it under his head just as he fell off your shoulder and into your lap.
“Oh my god! He’s buzzed out!” Mina cackled, grabbing her phone to snap a couple of photos as the others laughed.
“I love the guy, but my god is he dumb.” You bit your lip at Sero’s grin, angling Denki’s head away from the camera and raking your hands through his hair. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling his face into your stomach as he rambled about something to do with being okay. It was hard to understand him in this state.
“Come on guys, not cool.” You mumbled, using your sleeve to wipe away a bit of drool on Denki’s chin.
“Ah, cheer up (Y/N)! He does this all the time- it doesn’t matter!” Kirishima’s words made a pit coil in your stomach, nausea prickling your throat.
“It doesn’t matter. Leave him alone.” Mina rolled her eyes.
“God, it’s not a big deal. It’s his own fault, anyway.” You couldn’t help the annoyance that fuelled the glare in your eyes, but you pushed it down with a harder bite to the inside of your cheek. There was the burst of something metallic that tinged your tongue, but you ignored it.
“Come on, Denki. Let’s go,” said boy didn’t seem to recognise your words until you propped him up so you could stand up before pulling him off the sofa. Seemingly slightly resigned by your actions, Mina dropped her phone into her lap, looking away. This didn’t stop the other two from laughing, however, the volume of their cackles only increasing as Denki fell into your back.
With a groan, you shoved your shoulder into the door to open it and letting Denki clamber through. You painstakingly led him into his dorm room, redirecting him away from every wall he tried to run into and each piece of furniture he rammed into his abdomen. Your phone was blowing up with notifications, but you elected to ignore that as you made sure he didn’t hit his head as he fell onto his bed.
You wrote him a quick note and stuck it on his door, turning around to make one last check that he wasn’t going to kill himself the moment you stepped out the door.
Come find me when you’re back to normal.
“(Y/N)…” he whined, hands reaching out for you as he rolled onto his side, eyes sparkling once he saw you. You sighed, moving to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” It didn’t seem like he quite understood what you said, but the compliant nod and shining smile was enough to convince you he would be okay.
AlienQueen: [ATTACHMENT SENT]
[TheRaven, StarMan, MyChemicalHeadphones and 10 others liked this photo]
PinkQueen: guys!! look at kami asjadoawdhd
ALiteralRock: haha! you shoulda been there
Froggi: He’s been doing that more lately
Invisibitch: Good! It’s so funny!
PinkCake: hes so cute <33
GreenCake: It’s interesting how Denki has been ‘buzzing out’ more, but I suppose if he’s been using his quirk more often outside of training he could be slowly building a resistance.
BoomBoomBoy: Shut up.
IidaTenya: I sure hope he is safe!
TapeMan: nah, (Y/N) got im
You didn’t see Denki for the rest of the day.
When you stirred from your sleep, it was still dark. You felt a warmth building below your skin that spurred you to strip of your blanket, allowing it to fall into a crumpled heap onto the floor before creeping out the room. In the dead silence of the night, each one of your footfalls sounded like a bang to a drum.
The common room was empty that night. You squinted through the darkness, feeling your way to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. You stilled in the quiet for a moment, letting the movement settle as you took a sip. There was always a sort of ringing once it got quiet enough, a small reminder that despite the fact you were alone in the dark, there was still something going on.
Click.
At the end of the hall, a light turned on, the orange glow a stark contrast from the deep shadows that plagued the area. You heard a quiet shuffling, before a muffled gagging sound rang out.
Eyes widening, you rushed as quietly as you could down the hall, nearly crashing into the door as you shoved your way into the bathroom.
Hunched over the sink, chest racking with coughs and gags was Denki, his eyes teary as they struggled to focus on you. A dark substance, almost completely black if it were not for the slightest translucency, dripped from his parted lips and into the basin, clashing against the pure white marble.
You clapped a hand to your mouth, willing down the tears that welled in your eyes.
“Denki… what?” You choked out, voice hoarse from the dryness that stung your throat. Denki attempted to push himself up, hands trembling and knuckles white as he gripped the side of the countertop.
“(Y/N)…” his voice shook as he reached up to wipe his mouth, taking a step back from you in a vain bid to pass you and leave. You quickly snapped the door shut, no longer caring whether you woke anyone up.
Click.
Denki weakly chuckled at the look on your face. The lock. He closed himself into the corner of the room, pressing his back against the wall.
“Look, I’m fine-“ He was cut off by himself, lurching back over the sink and coughing up more of the liquid.
“What is that?” You questioned, silent horror pinching your features. He turned on the tap, filling his hands with water and washing out his mouth. Darting to the toilet- and struggling to move in such closed quarters- you balled up a handful of toilet paper and wiped his mouth. He leaned into your touch, skin emanating heat and covered by a thin sheen of sweat.
“Battery acid.” You felt your knees go weak.
“What?”
“It’s battery acid. The more I overuse my quirk, the more likely this stuff is to accumulate in my throat,” he looked away from your piercing gaze, “it’s okay, really.”
“What part of this is okay?” You spat, voice wavering. Denki winced at your tone, turning to washing his mouth out with more water, “Does it hurt?” He paused, and that was all the confirmation he needed.
The two of you stood in silence for a moment, only the sound of running water interspersed the atmosphere. You reached over and turned it off, not acknowledging the shrill screech of the metal as you levelled Denki with an even stare.
“It’s from the charging.” He muttered, and your knuckles clenched.
“Of-fucking-course.” He cringed, a clammy palm feebly gripping your forearm. His eyes were desperate, frown twisting his expression into something you couldn’t bear to look at.
“Please, (Y/N), it’s okay,” he begged, a tear slipping out of his eye just at the same time you felt one trail down your cheek.
“It’s not okay, Denki. How long has this been happening?” He fell silent, and you could feel the anxiety coiling in the pit of your stomach.
“Four months.” In a split-second decision, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your body into his. He nestled his face into your neck, hands coming to rest on your hips. Seemingly unable to keep it together any long, he crumbled, chest stuttering with every breath and his tears soaking the skin that was exposed by your nightshirt.
The silence of midnight began to creep in once again, only broken by the soft whimpers and sobs of the boy practically clutching onto you. You waited as long as you needed to until Denki had caught his breath, not counting the minutes yet painfully aware of each one as it passed.
“From now on, if someone asks you to charge anything, you say no, okay?” Denki frowned, rubbing away the tears in his eyes.
“I-“
“From now on, if someone asks you to charge anything, you say no, got it?” You spat, voice much firmer and tone a lot more sharp. He gulped, resigning to nodding with a sullen expression on his face.
“Are you good to go back to sleep? Or is there anything I need to do first?”
“It’s fine. You can go back now, don’t stay up for any longer.”
“I will do what I want, thanks.” you seethed, eyes glinting. Denki looked taken aback, glancing over your expression wearily.
“Uh…” “I am not going back to sleep unless you’re coming with me. You’re such an idiot-” you paused, “-but you’re my idiot, and there’s no way I’m letting the others treat you like this,“ you cupped his face, fingers pressing into pink cheeks as you angled his face to look at you, “if they want anything else from you, they have to go through me first.” Agape, he only nodded again, allowing you to grab his hand and pull him out the room.
Once he flicked the light off, the two of you were awash in darkness once again, but this seemed not to deter you. Rather, you traipsed across the corridor with a ridiculous amount of determination, only narrowly avoiding the various obstructions in the shadows.
“Here, let me light-“ Despite the little he could see, Denki could practically feel your burning glare. Bringing his hand down, he murmured an apology, musing in your little nod of satisfaction he could feel the motions of.
It only took you a few minutes to get to your room, pushing him inside and closing the door behind you. In spite of everything, Denki could feel heat rushing to his cheeks for an entirely different reason than his fever.
“(Y/N)?” He squeaked, hearing you fumble around the room yet not finding courage to stay anything but completely frozen.
“Yeah?” You questioned, voice low but feeling remarkably pleasant to his ears.
“This isn’t my room.”
“I know.”
“So why am I here?”
“Because I’m not leaving you alone. Come on, I’ve got the spare pillow.”
Denki currently didn’t have the energy to feel shame about the sparks excitement that welled up inside of him as he rushed to the sound of you getting on your bed. You held the blanket up for him, and he all but fell down next to you. The pounding of his heart was almost enough to distract him from the acrid burning of his throat.
You were warm, almost too warm as he shifted to be closer to you. Now that his eyes were getting adjusted, he could make out the expression on your face, eyebrows knotted in concern and eyes scanning all over him, as if searching for some sort of answer that he could only long to give you.
“I’m sorry.” He said it as if it meant anything. If it counted, he truly was. Denki didn’t want to make you worry- he wasn’t worth it. But that’s what you did. He would give too much, and you would worry tenfold.
It didn’t help that his eyes were still stinging and red-rimmed, or every once in a while a dry cough would tickle his throat. It didn’t help that he would wince every time he had to swallow, or that his palms were still clammy and he had to try to subtly wipe them on his shorts. It didn’t help that the pain almost became too much to handle, and he loved you too much to even lie about it.
He loved you- of course he did. How could he not? It was you. You, who stared at him with such adoration, even though he knew you were pissed off. You, who stood up for him even to his friends. You, who worried for him the first time he was buzzed out, and a thousand times later, still stayed with him and ran your fingers through his hair when he was barely conscious.
He watched your eyes strain to stay open, to keep watching him as he was watching you. Finally, they fluttered shut, your breathing evening out as you shuffled closer to him.
You, who got up in the middle of the night to protect him from himself.
He tucked your head under his chin, wrapping his arms around you waist with a gentle sigh. Under the cover of darkness, he confessed this. His words fell on deaf ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.
You, who, unlike anyone else, was determined to make him stop giving.
He couldn’t help but fall asleep, the sound of your soft breathing and the gentle rise and fall of your chest like a lullaby willing his eyes to close, comforted by the presence of your figure cuddled to his chest.
Denki Kaminari was a giver. And if there was anyone worth giving anything, it was you.
Extra:
Bakugo was not expecting to start his day in a chokehold.
It had started off innocently, Denki was playing a game on his phone, smug grin on his face, you were napping next to him, and the other losers he called his friends were on the sofas, eyes wide and backs straight. Sure, you could say he questioned the strange way his friends were acting, but he didn’t particularly care.
“Pikabitch, I need my phone-“
Bakugo prided himself on his quick instincts, but you were quicker.
In a second, your arm was wrapped around his throat, face dark and pressure increasing through his gasps.
“Say one more fucking word and you’re dead.” You growled, Bakugo’s fingers gripping your arm in a vain attempt to release himself from your hold, “Got it?” The blonde just managed to nod, coughing out once your arm withdrew from his neck. You settled back in your place beside Denki, sending him another sharp glare before returning to your nap.
Bakugo could only stare wide eyed, not quite sure what happened. All he could gather was that Denki was now off limits, and the others seemed to realise that too, if them cringing was anything to go by. With a gulp, he stormed out the common room.
Now he had to go get his charger.
Tumblr media
289 notes · View notes
celestialrry · 3 years
Text
nerves
4.8k
HELLLLO IM WRITING THIS INTRO AND POSTING THIS WHILE FALLING ASLEEP SO ILL POST ALL THE DETAILS ADN ADD THIS TO MU MASTERLIST LATER I LOVE TOU ALL THANK YOU FOR FOLOWING AND REBLOGGIN KISSES FOT YOU ALL (this is like right after release of hs1 harry I think hope you enjoy mwah)
summary: Actress!Y/N goes onto a talk show, and the host has a surprise for her.
warnings: cursing, kinda sorta an anxiety attack?
Y/N was nervous.
This would only be the 5th talk show she’s ever gone on alone after being in the spotlight for a few years when her acting career took off. She started off with indie films and soon made her way to the red carpet, working with esteemed actors and actress’s she could only ever dream of meeting. It was pure bliss.
Of course, fame came with other struggles like hate from the media and random people on twitter, but at the end of the day she was so grateful she had the opportunity to be in the business. She loved getting into a character, finding out what makes them click, and fully emerging herself in whatever film she’s in. At the moment, she was promoting her new film, and being the lead, she had gone on a few talk show’s by herself, but they never failed to make her sick to her stomach. Having no one to turn to when it gets awkward, even not having body heat by her side in front of a live audience and a professional host made her body rack with goosebumps.
“Miss L/N?” 
Her head turned towards the door of the dressing room she had been sitting in for 15 minutes alone, trying to get her nerves down. “Yes?’ She responded flashing a forced smile to the assistant standing in the door way. “They’re ready for you.” She nodded her head and stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her long dress and tumbled a bit on her heels to follow the assistant that was already walking towards the side stage. 
They instructed her to wait until her name was called, then walk onto stage and take a seat and have the show progress. So Y/N stood there, biting her bottom lip that was coated with clear gloss and her arms crossed around her waist, her heel covered toe tapping the floor in anticipation. 
“Now welcome our very special, and gorgeous guest, Y/N L/N!” She heard Jimmy Kimmel announce and took a short breath before stepping through the automatically opening curtains. She smiled and waved at the people sitting in the audience, happy to see people supporting her, and greeted Jimmy before taking a seat on the loveseat closest to his desk.
“Y/N! Welcome, how are you feeling tonight?” He flashed a comforting smile at her. 
She chuckled a bit due to her inability to not laugh in uncomfortable situations. “I’ll be honest with you Jimmy,” She said, adjusting herself in the seat. “M’ pretty nervous.”
“Nervous?” He asked. “Now, why would 2 time Emmy Nominee Miss Y/N L/N be nervous?” Jimmy teased.
Her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks heated up before looking back at him. “Because,” She dragged out. “It’s always nerve-racking being on live TV.”
He just nodded and made a joke about feeling the same even though he does this every week.
“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked.
He smiled before resting his arms on his desk. “I’m feeling good, I have a surprise for you later, but I’m supposed to ask the questions now, will you let me?”
“Of course I will.” She smiled back.
Y/N met Jimmy the first year she really became “famous” and he had always been her favorite late-night talk show host just because he was never invasive or creepy. Her standards for hosts were quite low at this point. They continued on, promoting her new movie and such before he settled back in his seat. 
“So.” He said.
“So.” She said back, raising a brow.
“I hate to ask you this, but I honestly am curious myself,” He began, and her anxiety creeped up just a bit. “Now, we dug through your old interviews, and it seems in every single one, when asked if you had a celebrity crush, your answer was Harry Styles?”
She simply nodded, her cheeks heating up again, and a small smile creeping onto her face at his name. 
“I see that smile, Y/N.” Jimmy said, and she let out a laugh, her smile now wide.
“So, do you mind telling us why you like him so much, or should I say love him so much?” His brow raised.
Y/N laughed a bit more, just at her nerves, and took a breath. “Um, he’s always been such an inspiration for me to actually chase my career, I mean I knew him from when he was on X-Factor to be honest. Binged that show all the time when I was in middle school and to see a boy just 2 years older than me just go straight into being in one of the biggest boy-bands in the world was insane. He’s just so passionate about what he does and I admire him for that. Uh- from what I can tell he’s just very charming, sweet, funny, caring, and…” She trailed off her rant, biting her bottom lip just a tad.
“And?”
“He’s incredibly attractive.” She finished a smile on her face as she glanced at the floor again.
“Understandable. I think he’s a good looking man myself, met him a few times and got flustered,” Jimmy jokes before looking at Y/N. “What if I told you he was the surprise I had for you?”
Her brows furrow as she looks at the man sitting across from her. “What? Do you mean like a video-” She feels a tap on her shoulder. 
Y/N turns around, still massively confused, and then she sees him.
Harry standing in a simple black suit and white button up, only a few of the buttons actually buttoned and her jaw drops. “Hello.” He says, smiling at her.
Her eyes are wide and she looks like a dear in headlights before her face falls into her hands, elbows resting on her knees, her breath erratic. “No, this isn’t- no. He’s not here.” She says into her hands and the crowd laughs. Everyone laughs. 
“M’a bit offended you think I’m not really here, love.” Harry grins, and she pulls her face out of her shaking hands to see him.
She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out. 
Harry Styles, her celebrity crush since the ripe age of 14, a crush thats lasted 8 years being 22 now, and she’s only seen him on screens her entire life. “Fuck.” Was all she can say. He laughs a bit at her starstruck appearance and turns to Jimmy. “She’s not normally like this, right?”
“Right.” The host jokes, looking back at the girl on the couch, and his smile diminishes a bit. Her eyes are watering and she’s trying to keep her composure but her bottom lip is trembling and Jimmy’s now worried he’s about to have a sobbing woman on live TV.
“You okay Y/N?” Jimmy asks and her head quickly turns to him and then back to Harry. “I-fuck, I’m sorry.” She tries to laugh it off. Tries not to think about how the man she’s loved even before she knew what love truly was, was standing in front of her right now. 
“Don’t be sorry.” Harry says, slightly frowning but trying to keep a happy face. He’s standing in front of a girl he’s adored ever since he watched her first movie, for Christs sake, and she’s silently about to break down in front of him, because of him. 
Before he can even properly introduce himself, she’s standing on her heels, wobbling a bit, and looking up at him. “Can I hug you?” She mouths, not wanting her question to be picked up on the mic on the back of her dress and before her mouth even closes he’s stepping towards her, big arms wrapping around her waist. Her arms find their way around his chest and her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s mouthing “Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.” Without realizing she’s facing the audience who laugh at her inability to not fangirl. His head dips as he hugs her, reveling in her touch, and then she’s pulling away, remembering they’re on live TV and she can give him a proper hug backstage after this is over when they don’t have to worry about appearances. 
She’s still reeling when his hands slide off her waist and he sticks his hand out and says “It’s so nice to meet you.” She takes his calloused hand in hers and says “Same to you.” Blinking away unshed tears.
“Shall we sit then?” He asks and she looks at Jimmy admiring the moment before back at Harry. “You’re staying?” She blurts out before shutting her mouth abruptly. 
“If you want me too.” He grins that grin she’s always been infatuated by and she nods, maybe too quickly. “Of course I do- yes,” She coughs. “Yeah, uh, please, let’s.”
They both plant themselves on the loveseat, Y/N taking the spot in which she was before and Harry sitting on the other end, keeping a distance between the two. She recomposes herself and sits up. Harry looks at her for a moment before looking back at Jimmy. 
“How are y’Jimmy?” He asks.
“I’m doing well, proud of myself for inviting you, you’re the one person I’ve seen make Y/N go absolutely speechless here,” Jimmy jokes and Y/N groans and smiles, leaning her top half on the arm of the chair, her face in her hands before sitting back up. “How about you, Harry?”
“M’doing well, was very excited to see Y/N here and I’d hopefully say it’s the same for her.” He smiles looking at her, dimples flashing.
“Yeah!” Her voice squeaks. “You’re right. It’s the same for me. I-” She cut’s herself off from saying she’s shitting her pants at the moment. Figuratively, of course, but it’s not very appropriate. She still can’t believe this. Twitter is going to have a field day talking about how flustered Y/N was at this moment.  
“Have something you want to say, Y/N? To Harry, more specifically?” Jimmy asks.
“Um,” She begins, locking eyes with Harry. “Did you hear, what I said, um, before you walked out here?” 
The green eyed man nods. 
Her hands start shaking again and she awkwardly laughs. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She apologizes. 
“Why are you apologizing?” Harry asks her, tilting his head and Y/N was going to pass out. “I’m glad you think all those things about me, plus, it’s a nice ego booster to hear that you think I’m ‘incredibly attractive’.” He chuckles a bit, but truthfully he was happy his celebrity crush feels the same way about him.
She just laughs back and mumbles a “Thanks.” Before Jimmy starts up a conversation about whatever was going on at the moment.
Jimmy and Harry start talking about something and Y/N nods her head and laughs when it’s appropriate but she couldn’t process anything. Her hands were interlocked, shaking in her lap, and all she could feel was Harry. Harry sitting next to her, Harry breathing next to her, Harry waving his hands around while he spoke in front of her. It was all too much. 
Suddenly his knee lightly knocked against her own. She abruptly turned to look at him, but he was still looking at Jimmy. So she assumed it was a mistake, until it happened again, and this time when her eyes looked to him, his met her’s and he gently and subtly moved closer to their thighs were touching. Y/N let the leg that was crossed over her other relax and fall to the couch, only her ankles crossed, and she swore she could hear his breath stop for a moment, but it was too quiet to be sure.
A few moments after they both had gained the courage to barely revel in each others touch, Jimmy was ending the show. Y/N doesn’t remember what she said or did before the camera cut off, she vaguely remembers waving to the audience but she’s not completely sure. 
And then it’s over- just like that.
“This was so fun Jimmy, thank you for inviting me on.” Harry said, standing up (reluctantly) and going to give Jimmy a hug. Y/N on the other hand was watching the interaction and it all hit her like a wave again. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of her. The men both turn to her as she stands up and she gives a weak smile and mumbles “I forgot I needed to text my assistant, m’sorry I’ll be back.” before speed walking behind the curtain and booking it to her dressing room. She quickly flips the “Do Not Disturb” side of the sign on the door to show and closes the door behind her, her breathing accelerating. 
She barely makes it to the couch before bursting out in tears.
Y/N couldn’t really put a finger on whether or not they were tears of joy, sadness, embarrassment, or a combination of all 3. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter though. She slips her heels off and lies on the couch, her hands over her face with not so silent cries as she tries to calm herself. 
Meanwhile, both Harry and Jimmy sensed that Y/N wasn’t just going to text her assistant. “Do you think- do you think I said something maybe?” Harry quietly asks the late night host as they walk behind the curtain and into a quieter hallway backstage. Jimmy simply shakes his head before locking eyes with Harry. “Have you seen any of the videos where she talks about you, Harry?”
He shakes his head no and the older man pulls out his phone, doing a quick scroll of his email before finding video file and opening it. “A couple of interns here made this combination of all the times she talked about you in her interviews.”We were gonna play it as you were coming out but her manager said it would be too embarrassing.” Was the only preface Jimmy gave before clicking play.
Y/N stood in an elegant emerald colored gown just off the red carpet, all done up for her first big movie premiere. An interviewer stands in front of her, holding a mic that the woman was moving between herself and Y/N. “So Miss L/N, we need some juicy secrets from the “It-Girl” herself. Who’s your celebrity crush?” Y/N looks at the floor, a shy smile on her face as the quietly says “Harry Styles.” The interviewer’s eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. “I feel you honey, what do you like most about him?” Y/N purses her lips slightly before speaking again. “Um, everything? I think he has a really good heart.” The interviewer makes a joke about how she likes his eyes instead and Y/N laughs, but anyone could tell it was forced. 
The screen begins to play another clip. 
Y/N is sitting on a couch with her co-stars of a movie she did a year ago, dressed in a classy blush colored suit, and they’re all playing a game with some other talk show host. “Let’s see who knows Y/N the best now, shall we?” The host asks, and looks down at the cards in his hand. “Who is her celebrity crush?” And almost immediately all of her friends were jotting down their answers on a white board. “That was fast,” The host laughs, as does everyone else. “Okay everyone, flip it around.” ‘Harry Styles’ was written on every single board. “Oh my god.” She smiles wide out of embarrassment and puts her face in her hands. 
It reminds Harry of what she did when she first saw him.
“Y/N! Looks like you’re absolutely smitten with Harry Styles, aren’t you?” The host asks, and before she could even open her mouth, a co-star of hers was already speaking. “She’d play his songs in her trailer in the morning, full volume, and sing them as loud as she could. It was a good way to wake us all up.” He jokes, and everyone laughs at that. “Whenever he’d post a photo on instagram, or tweet something, I’d see tears in her eyes.” Another co-star speaks up. The audience laughs again and she looks to them. ‘I’m serious! Y/N absolutely adores him.” By this time Y/N’s face was out of her hands and she was sinking into the couch. “Are you embarrassed, Y/N/?” The host jokes “Of course not, well I didn’t want to get absolutely exposed, but I’m not embarrassed to be a fan, could never be embarrassed to be a fan of him, he’s… he’s amazing.”
The phone then fades into yet another clip.
This time, Y/N is sitting in a stool, doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview, and she tears off the second paper of the question, “Is Y/N L/N…” . “Is Y/N L/N,” she reads and the paper catches after the word “dating” is revealed. She looks up at the screen, a twinkle in her eyes as she shoots a close-mouthed smile at the camera. She turns back to the board and rips the paper off, struggling a bit and laughing, until it’s revealed. “Is Y/n L/N dating… Harry Styles”  She bursts out laughing, her free hand clutching her stomach.
Harry frowns a but at this, and he didn’t feel like thinking more about why.
 “Um,” She begins, “Sorry, I just- do I really talk about him, that much? S’a bit concerning.” She mumbles to herself. “Yeah, no, I’m not dating Harry Styles, he would never. Though, I like how people think it could be a possibility, thats quite funny. I’ll take the… hidden compliment, is that even the right phrase?”
The screen goes to another clip but Jimmy pauses it there and turns off his phone, turning to Harry. “You didn’t do anything Harry, it’s just you being here, she’s probably overwhelmed and-“
“Mr. Kimmel? Jones needs you.” Someone calls out to him down the hall and Jimmy slips his phone in this pocket and sighs. “Sorry, gotta handle this, thank you, for coming.”
“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, “Thanks for having me.” And at that Jimmy rushes down the hall in search of Jones, and Harry stands in the same spot
Harry knows how much he means to his fans, he’s seen them sob at concerts, break down at meet and greets, and when they tell him how much they love him when they run into him on the street. He knows this. But this felt different, for some reason. Maybe it was the burning feeling in his chest when she laughed off how he would never be with her, for what particular reason he has no clue (or just doesn’t want to address it), or how he couldn’t help but pop a dimple when he heard she loves his music. He wasn’t sure.
What he was sure of though, is that he needed to speak to her again, hug her for longer, actually get to know Y/N. So he walked into the main back room, walking down different halls until he came across the one that read “Dressing Room #4” and Y/N’s name scribbled in messy handwriting on the white board underneath. He knocked a little rhythm, and waited.
Y/N was still crying, to put it lightly. Maybe hyperventilating was the right word, because she was breathing quite fast, and there was a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. She heard the knocks and attempted to calm herself down a bit, yelling out a “One second!” Before wiping under her eyes and walking to open the door. “Eliana,” She began, ready to wave her assistant way (not that she didn’t adore her, but Y/N needed to be alone before talking about everything), “Can you come back in like 15 minutes, I’m sorry I just need to-”
Her mouth closed when she saw Harry outside of her door, his small smile quickly fading into a frown as he took in her state. “Y/N I wanted to- are you okay?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, trying not to push any boundaries. When she didn’t respond and he saw her bottom lip quiver a bit, his chest clenched. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” He gently asked, eyes running over her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and disheveled appearance. 
She nodded and he walked in, and she gently shut the door behind him. He turned around to look at her and when his eyes met her’s, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a gut-wrenching sob and her face fell in her hands as she shook her head. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” She choked out and he stepped towards her, his hand coming to rest on her elbow. “Y/N, please, don’t apologize.” And without thinking he took the last step towards her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. Her hands fell from her face and she held him back, arms wrapping tightly around his torso yet again.
As she cried into his chest, he mumbled a soft, “Breathe for me, love.”, and she tried to get her breathing to match his own deep breathes. “I’m sorry,” Y/N says for the millionth time. “I told you to stop apologizing, Y/N, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He frowns to himself, that burning feeling in his chest again. She reluctantly pulls away, and his hands remain on her arms as her own come up to wipe the tears flowing out of her eyes. 
“You didn’t sign up to be here and have to deal with a crying fan, Harry.” Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him. 
“Hey, I came because I wanted to see you, I’ve seen your movies and I think everything you’re absolutely incredible at what you do, and when Jimmy called asking if I could come to surprise you I jumped at the chance to finally meet you. I know what I signed up for.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the skin of her arms gently.
At his words she let out another sob, her shaking hands coming up to cover her face for a moment yet again. Harry’s eyes widened, he was telling the honest truth, and he didn’t think he said anything wrong. Y/N however, was seeing in person, how king he truly was, and it was just another reality check that the Harry she’s loved for so long really is the same in real life; it was too much to handle. “Thank you,” She sniffles, looking up at him again, meeting his piercing green eyes. “I just, I’ve adored you for years, still do, and I never thought I’d meet you, even after I started getting ‘known’, I always thought you were like, too perfect to be real, and now you’re here and you’re real, and y’know when you meet a celebrity who seems so sweet in interviews and all that but they turn out to be an absolute prick? It’s not like that, you’re the same person I’ve loved over a screen, I- you’ve been my inspiration for fucking years and I don’t know. It’s just a lot.” 
Now her hands were on his arms and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.
“M’not perfect, Y/N.” Harry says softly. Y/n chuckles a bit, glancing to the side before meeting his eyes yet again. “I know, I know the ‘nobody’s perfect’ crap, but if you’re insistent on it, then I think you’re the closest thing there is to perfect, Harry.”
His cheeks turn pink at her confession, and a small smile weaves its way onto his face. “Thank you,” He finally says, before bringing her into another hug, this time her arms wrapped around his neck, and he bends down a bit to hold her tighter. “For everything you said, seriously, you’ve got no idea how much it means t’me.” He admits, still reveling in her touch. She slowly pulls away, noting in her head that he never seems to be the one to let go first. “Of course, wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She smiles weakly, still drained from all the emotions flowing through her. He just smiles at that, before his hand drags down her arm and he hold her hand, wordlessly pulling her over to sit on the couch. 
He doesn’t let go of her hand as they sit quite close facing each other. “Do y’wanna hear a secret? It might make you feel better.” He suggests, cursing himself for being willing to do anything to see her smile fully. “I wish I could lie and say that it’s something I wouldn’t know, but I think I know a bit too much about you.” She says, letting out a small laugh, and he does too. “I promise you don’t know this.” He mumbles.
“Okay, go for it.” She says, holding his hand a bit tighter. 
“Well, after you bolted here, Jimmy showed me a few of your interviews, and I wanted to tell you that you’re my celebrity crush too.”
Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, a face that looks eerily similar to when she saw him for the first time just an hour prior. “You saw my interviews?” She gasps, her voice cracking at the embarrassment of him seeing her shamelessly confessing her love for him about a million times. It was safe to say she didn’t hear the rest of his confession.
“That’s what you’re focusing on here?” Harry laughs and raises a brow at Y/N.
“What else is there to focus on,” She groans, taking her hand out of his and burying her face into her hands yet again. “I can’t believe Jimmy showed you that, I’m never coming on this show again.” 
Harry grins, a dimple popping as he gently wraps his arms around her wrists, pulling her hands off her face. “Did y’hear what I said after that?” He asks softly, his eyes bring into her own. She shakes her head “no” in response and he takes a quick breath before telling her yet again. 
“I said, you’re my celebrity crush too. I’ve watched everything you’ve been in and I think y’are absolutely amazing, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re beautiful, inside and out.”
Y/N’s jaw drops for the thousandth time that night. 
 “You’re fucking with me.” She deadpans, her face blank and mind swimming with emotions.
He frowns and squeezes her hands. “M’not, swear to you.”
She shakes her head in denial. There’s no way she was Harry Style’s celebrity crush. Not in a million years would she ever think those words would be spoken, much less even thought of.
“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.
“I believe tha you’re just too nice and you feel bad for me, so that’s why you’re telling me this.” Y/N admits to him, a sad smile on her face.
“Really?” He asks, letting go of her hands and bringing one of his own to his pocket. 
“Really. I appreciate it, I do, but you don’t have to try and make me feel less humiliated, I think we’ve already passed the point of no return.” Y/N says, laughing a bit.
“Mmm, okay,” He smirks. “Well that just won’t do. May I have your number?” 
She raises a brow as he pushes his phone into her hands, already pulled up on a new contact. She types in her number and “#1 fan” in the name and hand the phone back to him. Harry laughs when he sees the contact name and saves it to his phone, then putting it back in his pocket. 
“What was that?” 
“What was what?” Harry muses, a teasing glint in his eye.
She purses her lips. “Why did you just ask for my number?”
“So I can contact you of course,” Harry smiles. “How else am I supposed to set up another date with you?”
“Another?” Y/N questions, her lips turning up.
“’m a gentleman of course, would never ask you out on a first date over the phone,” Harry calmly explains. “So would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?”
Y/n hesitates, unsure if this was still an ask out of pity. “You can meet me at my house, of course if you’re comfortable, and I’ll order us takeout to eat on my porch.” He continues, getting more exciting as he imagines how the date would go. 
“What makes you think I’d say yes?” She teases and his mouth gapes. 
“Oh fuck off.”
337 notes · View notes
beomglocks · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: there’s a cute new barista at the shop!
pairing: barista!beomgyu x reader
warnings & other : fluff, beomgyu not good at making coffee, reader whipped for cute boy, i had this is my drafts this whole time & forgot to post it lol
w/c: 694
Tumblr media
"order for...y/n?" you hear someone call. at the sound of your name you perk up and leave your lecture notes unattended at the cafe table you occupied.
when you get to the counter to pick up your coffee, you stare in awe at the boy who made your drink. his name tag reads “beomgyu” with a smiley face attached to the end. he wasn't the one who normally made your drinks but got damn was he fine as fuck. "im y/n," you say out loud.
he looks you up and down before smiling and handing you your drink. "thank you! come again," he says. "wait!" you already got your drink from him but your curiosity won't let you just end the conversation there. "where's yeonjun?" yeonjun is the barista who usually makes your drinks and it's unusual to see him not at his post.
"ah, he called in sick for the week so i had to take over. it's actually my first day on the job so please let me know how i did," he says. you nod, bringing the cup towards your lips but he stops you quickly before you're able to take the first sip. "just so you know, it probably won't be up to par with how yeonjun makes it, it being my first day and all."
of course it won't be up to par with yeonjun's, you think to yourself. yeonjun's been making my coffee for months just the way i like it with a special touch. no one could ever come close to making it like him. "it's ok, I'm sure it's not that bad!"
you subtly take a whiff of it before bringing the cup to your lips. it smells good enough. beomgyu watches you closely wanting to know if he did a good job or not in pleasing one of his first customers. you don't even take a full gulp of the coffee before a weird tingle runs up your spine and you hold back a choke.
you bring the cup down quickly. it's bad. it's not the worst coffee you've ever tasted but damn it's a close second. you don't want to offend the new barista so you hold back a gag at the taste.
"how is it?" he innocently asks. how is it?! you want to ask him if they had given him an orientation prior to putting him out into the field. you wonder if yeonjun had told him how to blend the coffee or which milks to use.
"it's..." you think for a moment about what words to say as to not make him feel bad. "it's coffee."
he smiles widely, "that's the best response I've gotten all day. i had to make coffee for our boss and the other workers before coming out here and they had the same response more or less."
he seems proud at managing to create something that's at least edible. "at least you're cute." the phrase slips from your mouth without you thinking and you stare at beomgyu's awkward expression hoping he somehow didn't catch that.
"thanks?" he isn't sure how to respond. "sorry that was random.. but thanks for the coffee," you say quickly, hoping to get out of the weird situation you put yourself in.
"wait! you're pretty cute too and you don't hate my coffee. the next time you come to the cafe let's chill during my break?" he says. his eyes are shining and his hair is messily strewn across his head, indications of the busy day of the hours prior. you can't say no. he looks too cute right now.
thank god for the see through plastic masks. you can see his boyish grin and fuck, why are you just now noticing his white dress shirt under the mandatory grey apron. the sleeves are rolled up to showcase his veiny arms and long finge-
"ill take that as a yes," he smiles confidently now. you're at a loss for words as he has now caught you staring him down. you can tell his confidence was boosted by your clear attraction towards him.
fuck him and his poorly made coffee.
395 notes · View notes
marktuansvevo · 3 years
Text
got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship
warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part
mark; being jealous
mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....
....until tonight.
you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.
but now he was only seeing red. 
you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.
mark just watched you from afar.
and his blood boiled.
chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”
you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”
“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”
mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.
bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”
mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan. 
“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist. 
“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.
“something like that. see you, chan.”
as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”
“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.
“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”
“y/n!!!”
jaebeom; wearing disguises in public
jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.
but you wanted to go to a concert with him.
and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.
“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.
“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.
“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.
“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.
“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”
“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”
okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.
“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.
“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.
“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”
“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”
“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”
“super sexy aegyo please?”
the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.
“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.
jackson; his significant other saying ily first.
it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.
he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.
he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.
you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?
“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.
“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.
“mmm?”
“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.
“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.
“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.
the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’
“j-jackson…im sorry-“
“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.
“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.
“i love you,” he whispered reverently.
“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.
“i love you, i love you….i love you..”
jinyoung; moving in together
jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.
he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.
the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.
you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.
“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”
“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.
“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.
“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”
“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”
“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”
“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”
“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.
“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”
“i love you, you sap.”
even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.
“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”
youngjae; picking up the tab
it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.
youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.
the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.
“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.
“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.
youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”
“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.
“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”
“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.
“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”
he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.
bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes
remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.
but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.
you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.
“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.
“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.
“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”
“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”
“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned. 
“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.
“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed. 
bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”
he knew exactly how to shut you up.
yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers
yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.
he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.
one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered. 
“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs. 
“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now. 
“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?” 
you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,” 
“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.
he was whipped.
377 notes · View notes
imaginesmai · 4 years
Text
Arvin Russell - The preacher’s sins (1/2)
Tumblr media
Requested by an anon, please enjoy it! It was too long, so I divided it in two parts. I’ll post the next one tomorrow!
Plot: there is nothing bigger for you than the love you feel for Arvin Russell. Not a lot of people can awaken what he does in you, with his cheeky smile and chocolate eyes. Now, a stranger threatens to break that bond, manipulating where it hurts the most.
Warnings: It’s the devil all the time, and you know the preacher. So if you’re reading this, it’s because you’re alright with what’s about to happen. Anyway, violence and manipulation.
Arvin’s car was waiting for you when your shift at the café ended. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face when you thought about the upcoming events; a whole weekend just for the two of you, in your house since your parents were away in a business travel. That meant you could sleep in the same bed, have your own space and dream about finally moving in together. As you crossed the street jogging, your bag hanging from your left shoulder, you thought you could get used to it.
He was smoking, looking ahead and lost in his thoughts. Some wild strands of hair had fallen on his face, making him look a bit more childish that usually. Arvin Russell looked as handsome as ever, and for two whole days, would be handsome only for you.
“Arv” you announced your presence when you climbed in the seat beside him, rubbing your arms in an attempt to get ride of the rain’s coldness.
“Hey, pretty girl”
Arvin dropped his denim jacket over you, and while you put it on, he threw his cigarrete through the window’s car, moving his hand around to get ride of the smoke. Once he made sure you wouldn’t choke with it, he closed the car’s windows and looked at you with a half-smile.
“I can’t believe it’s finally happening” you giggled softly, enjoying that moment of excitement and peace.
“Hope ya haven’ changed your mind” Arvin quickly pressed his lips against your cheek, before starting the car. “How was work?”
As you started talking about a cute dog which owner had let you pet, Arvin drove you to your house. He managed to listen to the story, drive safely and sneak a hand so that he could hold yours.
During most of the weeks, it was hard to see him. He was busy with his family and his part times job, taking what he could to earn a little money. Lenora took a lot of his time too, because she often got picked up by the bullies at highschool and Arvin insisted in picking her up every day. Then, he went with her to the grave yard to visit his mother, and he stayed with her until she finished. Sometimes, he would sneak for a few minutes and come visit you in the café, ordering the cheapest thing in the menu and watching you for afar.
Neither of you had a lot of free time. Your family, humble and hard-working, was also very conservative, so even if they accepted your relationship with Arvin, they didn’t like when he stayed at night. His family didn’t have a lot of free space neither, and if they had they didn’t see with good eyes sleeping together before marriage.
That week hadn’t been different. You had been working every afternoon until the sun came down, and then drove back home. The only difference was that you had been stopping briefly at the church, to talk with the new preacher. You knew Arvin didn’t like him – which was why the mood darkened on the way to your house.
“He ain’t good, Y/N” he grumbled, briefly looking at you.
“You don’t know him, it’s just – he’s new here, he needs a chance to prove himself” you defended. “I know what he did to your grandma was wrong, but we can’t judge him by one mistake!”
“It wasn’ just one mistake. He talks and talks ‘bout how everyone is a sinner but ‘im” Arvin protested.
“Arvin, please” you shifted closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be just a few minutes. He told me he needed my help with something, you don’t even have to see him.”
The preacher, indeed, had told you the previous day that he wanted to meet you in the church on Friday. You hadn’t told him your plans with Arvin, even if he was kind of interrupting your peaceful weekend with your boyfriend; probably, because you knew he wouldn’t approve you spending the night with him.
Deep inside, you knew that Arvin was probably right; he always was at the end, no matter what he was talking about. He was the one who said that the boy who Lenora’s was after wasn’t a good man, and now he had fun chasing her with a bag and awful words. There was something about the preacher that you didn’t like either, but you still didn’t know what. For now, you wanted to be on his good side.
“So? Can we stop?”
“I’d feel better if not” Arvin scoffed. “But I guess that’s a yes”
Arvin stopped on the graveyard, an empty place where the sun was setting already. It was dark and silent, and even you, who wanted to stop, were starting to reconsider the decision. You looked out the window, seeing that the church’s door was open and a dim light could be seen from the inside. Arvin exited the car without another word, and you knew he was pissed. He wasn’t too keen on sharing his feelings, even more when they weren’t of love or happiness.
You had been dating for seven months officially, and it had been ten since he asked you for a date after your shift at the café. There was no way you could make him talk about it and comfort him before the sun disappeared completely, so you decided to ignore him and walk towards the church. Still, before entering you looked back, half expecting him to be ready to leave and pick you later. But he had lighted up another smoke and was leaning against the car, looking to his feet.
Much less happier than before, you entered the church. You wanted nothing more than Arvin to be happy, and if you were up to wish anything, for him to have a better relationship with the rest of Knockemstiff; starting with the preacher.
He was sitting in the first row, reading from a small book. The faint lights you had seen came from the candles, which made the place much more scarier than usually. You didn’t think anything about it, not even when you made yourself heard by calling him and he told you to close the door. It was a cold, October day, so you guessed there was nothing wrong with it. After looking at Arvin once more, and receiving no smiles, you closed the door behind you.
“What did you want me for, preacher?”
“Come sit with me, Y/N” he patted the bench beside him, and you approached him. “You ever read the bible?”
“Um, a little. Lenora reads to me sometimes, a-and from what I hear on Sundays” you explained, not really wanting to say it out loud.
The truth was that you had never learned how to read. You had had to drop out of highschool at a young age because your mother had fallen ill, and your father couldn’t manage the family business on his own. With no money to buy books or material, your father had you help in on the shop. You were good with numbers, from years of experience, and you were starting to know what some words were written like thanks to Lenora and Arvin. But not a lot of people in Knockemstiff knew that you didn’t write the orders down in the café because you didn’t know how.
The preacher hummed, finally raising his eyes from the small book on his lap. He shifted closer to you, until you were sure you could hear his heartbeat. He showed you what he had been so focused on, and while you knew some of the letters, it all looked like garbage.
“This is my favourite part” he said, his voice soft but with a sharp edge. “Mom used to read it to me every night, too. You know it?”
“U-um, yeah” you said. Quickly, you tried to search for a word that you could understand. Lenora always read to you a passage of the bible when you went to their house, and maybe you could know what was it about. However, the preacher closed the bible before you had time to find it.
“God is merciful and benevolent, Y/N” he stretched one arm behind your shoulders, and you felt tears run to your eyes when you understood he knew it. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of – Arvin had managed to convince you it wasn’t, but you felt embarrassment crawl through your spine. “He forgives us all, all of our sins. But you know what is what he doesn’t forgive? Lies”
The back of your hair was grabbed with so much force that you emitted a low cry. If the door had been open, maybe Arvin would have heard you. But he angrily pacing around the graveyard, thinking about how he shouldn’t be so hard with you, and you were too afraid and embarrassed to scream any louder.
You were met with the preacher’s hard eyes, hateful and unforgivable. The back of your head throbbed from how hard he was gripping it, and finally a lonely tear made its way down your cheek. It seemed to offend him more, because he squeezed harder.
“You think you’re worthy of stepping into this temple?” he hissed, his hot breath making you shudder. “You think I wouldn’t find out that you can’t read? Or that you spend the nights with that boyfriend of yours?”
“Preacher –“
“Shut the fuck up!”
The nice man who you had been talking to the rest of the week disappeared in thin air, and you were thrown to the ground with a force you didn’t know the kind preacher had. A small cry of pain left your lips as your right wrist bent awkwardly against the edge of the bench, and you tried to move away. But the preacher had other ideas, because he hoisted you up until his face was inches away from you again.
You were sure he would just bash your head against the bench and Arvin would only have your cold body for the weekend when his face morphed, and that calm that always surrounded him was back. He sat on the bench again, and put his head against his hands, as if he was in deep thinking. Before you could think about running out of there screaming Arvin’s name, the preacher talked.
“Get naked”
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist
@delicately-important-trash​​
@lexxxistrips​​​​
@smilexcaptainx​​​​​
@aikaterrina​​​​​
@zalladane​​​​
@gypsystuf​​​​​ (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)
@nikkixostan​​​​
@galaxystern08​​
@justifymyfeelings​​
604 notes · View notes
crown-anon · 3 years
Text
@hearts1ck my beloved
November 1st
CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut
format: one-shot
people: GeorgeNotFound
pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut
edited 14 March 2021
anonymous asked
consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.
I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.
(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)
I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.
george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that
& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"
so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube
but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace
hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs
and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!
istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]
hearts1ck
i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –
okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in
and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,
also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD
#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD
as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!
yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.
when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??
this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo
I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗
I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.
November 1st
CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.
format: one-shot
people: GeorgeNotFound
pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate
dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.
you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.
"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.
"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.
"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"
he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"
one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.
you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"
"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."
he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"
"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"
"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.
"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.
"fuck me like you hate me."
you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.
you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.
he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"
you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."
"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"
you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.
and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.
when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…
he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.
"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.
except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.
he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.
your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."
he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.
he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.
you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.
"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."
"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."
"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."
he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"
"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.
…? you frown.
"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."
"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.
"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.
that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.
your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.
"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"
you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."
"I'm—"
"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."
he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"
"good boy," you praise. "kneel."
he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.
you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.
"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"
"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.
you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."
he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."
"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."
you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.
he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."
"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."
you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"
he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"
"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."
he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."
"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."
now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."
that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.
when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."
so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.
"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"
just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.
you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.
once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"
he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.
"one what?" you prod.
he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."
it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.
it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…
"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.
you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.
he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.
"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.
he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"
you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."
he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.
"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.
"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."
a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.
"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.
"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"
if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.
"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."
he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.
"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"
he nods.
you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.
"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"
your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"
"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."
seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.
"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"
you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"
you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."
you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.
"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.
"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"
you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.
"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"
at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"
"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"
you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.
"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.
in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.
"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.
he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.
"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"
"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"
"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"
"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.
"twenty-four…" he mumbles.
"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.
"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.
"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"
"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"
you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."
he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."
"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"
"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"
you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."
you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.
it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.
"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.
"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.
he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."
you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."
you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."
"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."
you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.
you pull back. "hey, blow me first."
"what? why?" he giggled.
"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"
he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"
you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."
"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."
"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."
"I am not!"
"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.
you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.
he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"
you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"
"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.
your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.
your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.
"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.
"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.
you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.
"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.
he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.
"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.
what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.
"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.
you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.
"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.
he swallows.
the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…
it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.
he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.
"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.
"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."
"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.
"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"
"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.
he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."
that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."
he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"
"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.
"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."
you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.
"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."
he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.
you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.
you spank him, one last time.
"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.
you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.
"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.
I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."
you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.
actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.
actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.
you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.
you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.
last night…what the fuck happened last night?
you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.
you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.
maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.
you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."
edited 14 March 2021
107 notes · View notes
noritoshiikamo · 3 years
Text
this is how you fall in love
pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy
listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels
“you’re a lifesaver.”
kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.
yup, not him.
tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.
kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”
“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”
he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.
their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.
they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.
“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”
bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.
he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.
“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.
he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.
“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”
she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”
“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.
cant come over, busy, ill tell u later
kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.
they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.
tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?
just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.
“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”
“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.
looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.
“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”
“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”
kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.
“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”
their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.
“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”
she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.
that was 3 months ago.
kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.
she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.
kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”
he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.
“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.
“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.
“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”
a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.
he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.
he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.
“for luck,” he grinned.
unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.
he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.
he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.
“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.
“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.
“that’s not fair!”
“apologize first.”
“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”
he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”
“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”
he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.
finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!
the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.
“i love you too.”
nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.
breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.
“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.
he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.
“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”
she has no objection.
133 notes · View notes
moxfirefly · 4 years
Text
Video calls and confessions
Part 2
Tumblr media
Rated Explicit (18+)
Got around to that part teo for this one shot.
Hellboy/Cam!Girl
____________________
The world going to shit wasn’t exactly how’d you planned out your Friday afternoon. This morning you had woken up with enthusiasm and a desire to treat yourself.
You’d gone out to the city, had your nails done, grabbed an obscenely priced coffee and on your way had stumbled on a museum.
A little culture never hurt nobody.
For Christ sake it was a free entry day too.
So why then, as you admired priceless art and sculptures had literal hell descended upon the evening?
Creatures. Actual monsters. The screams of the public deafening.
That had happened about half an hour ago. In your haste you had thanked you fight or flight mode to quick into flight. The shaking in your body had cause you to run into one of the exhibit rooms most cluttered with random ‘junk’ whatever this art installation had gone for it was surely not for somebody to duck behind for safety.
You checked your phone. The news was reporting the attack of the art museum. Authorities had been sent as well as the B.P.R.D...
That made you pause and clutch your phone.
If the bureau was on its way then that meant Hellboy was too.
The very notion of possibly seeing him in the flesh made your heart skip a few beats. The two of you had been communicating on and off for a while now since the private shows had started. You knew mixing work and pleasure wasn’t smart but fuck, you had it bad for this guy.
There was a sense of relief washing over you. He’d be here, he’d take care of this mess. Maybe you’d finally see him and not through a computer screen. You knew things had escalated with him although neither of you had really properly addressed it.
“Please whatever is up there, if I survive this I’m fucking telling him I’m in love with him” You whispered to yourself. This possibly couldn’t be your last day on earth.
Something screeching and something akin to a human scream startled you. You hugged your knees closer and tried not to breath loudly. Gunshots and more screams could be heard.
Then something came crashing into the installation where you were hiding. Your scream was imposible to hold in. The creature was screeching so loudly, a sound that left your ears ringing.
Adrenaline made you run out as fast as you humanly could. You heard the great strides it took to catch up to you. This was it wasn’t it? You were gonna die?
Your legs kept pushing you forward even as your muscles burned with pain. Your eyes hurt from crying and your throat felt like it was sandpaper. Something like a claw reaching for your hair made you close your eyes. There was no way you wanted to see how this ended for you.
Two shots.
Loud and so very clear, the sound coming out of left field made you trip and fall. The screening fortunately had stopped.
“Miss?! You’re safe! Hey! You gotta get out of here now!” That voice you knew all to well. You looked up and saw red and a stone hand.
“R-red...” Your voice was small, a sob catching in your throat.
“Y/N!?” He was shocked, eyes wide as he knelt in front of you.
You weren’t sure how your body moved or if he moved you but somehow you’d ended up with your arms around him sobbing into his neck. Hellboy held you tightly, whispering that you were safe, an array of cusses slipped out as he breathed heavily.
The knowledge that you were here, if he’d been a millisecond too late, all crashed down on him as he picked you up and carried you to safety.
You could’ve died, was all that ran through his head.
You’re alive, was all that ran through yours.
_______________
One helicopter ride, a medical exam and a shower later you found yourself at the home base of the B.P.R.D. A nice young woman by the name of Alice had loaned you some clothes and had taken you to Hellboy’s room to wait. A debriefing was happening and all you could do was sit tight.
You resolved to canceling all your cam shows for the week stating you had fallen terribly ill. There was no way you could work, your hands were still shaking as you typed out the post and notified your one on one shows. It felt like hours as you sat on the couch, you had looked around at his room, seeing and array of personal items that made up his personality.
Such a big part of you often dreamt about this but your nerves had you glued to your spot.
The door opened and Hellboy came barreling in like a tornado. You flinched and bit too hard on your already chewed off nail, so much for that manicure.
“I’m so sorry, I wanted to leave that stupid meeting but it’s fucking mandatory because Daimio thinks it’s necessary, asshole that guy I tell ya-“ He took in your state, the still slight tremble in your hands, the few scrapes here and there. You looked small and scared and it absolutely destroyed him.
In his silence he made his way towards the coffee table and sat in front of you. “You know I often fantasized what it be like to see you in the flesh, this wasn’t how it usually went I promise” He smiled and for the first time in this piss filled day, so did you.
“How would it go?” You asked softly.
“Some mood light, a little wine maybe some music” The two of you chuckled. Your chuckles quickly dissolved in you trying to hold back your tears.
You were almost killed tonight, the shock would take some time to subside. “Hey hey kid, it’s ok, I’ve got you. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you on my watch” Hellboy’s flesh hand rested on your knees.
You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder. “...When I read you guys were sent out, I really got excited that I’d finally see you” You felt his flesh hand stroke your hair.
“I’m in love with you” You blurted out, his hand going to still. “I said, if I’m making it out of this alive I’m telling him, so I’m telling you...” You looked up at him, e/c meeting his golden ones.
“I-Im not dancing around this no more, I’m tired of pretending that what’s been going on isn’t just some work thing that I do, fuck, I love you I really do and I think you do too” Your mouth want dry again, the scratchy sensation making you swallow.
Hellboy searched out your eyes, something in his head was going a mile a minute. Was he searching for a lie? Something disingenuous?
That all died when he lunged forward and kissed you.
A kiss that truly and utterly left no worry.
You were kissing Hellboy. You were gripping Hellboy by the scruff of his shirt. The way his lips molded against yours, the abnormal warmth to them, the softness to them, the roughness of his scruff.
Pulling back for air felt obligated but he’d insisted by pressing the stumps of his horns against your forehead. “Wow...that’s...so much better than I could’ve imagined” He was star struck in a way and it honest to god made you laugh.
The days events took a back seat for now you wanted to take in the being before you. You scanned everything you normally did while on cam with him. Your hands explored his face, running across scars and hair.
Then you remembered what lay to his right and your heart raced.
You gripped his stone hand, fascinated by the texture of stone, how he held your hand with so much regard to his strength. The patterns, the markings everything has you entranced.
“Extraordinary” Was all you could muster as you rubbed on what would be the inside f his wrist. “I’m sorry, is this weirding you out?” You looked at Hellboy only to find him grinning. “Having a beautiful girl touch me? Yes it’s completely weirding me out” He mocked and you couldn’t help but playfully shove him.
“God I need a beer, can we...?” He was leaning over toward the mini fridge next to the couch and pulling said drinks out. “Read my mind, beautiful” He offered one towards you.
This morning you were going about a normal routine, and now after a near death experience you were in the room of a man you had been falling in love with for months. The twist and turns of life.
Around round 3 you’d excused yourself to use the bathroom. As you washed your hands and saw your normal pristine face a little worn down from the stressful events you frowned.
But there you stood in Hellboy’s bathroom. Surrounded by things all him. The tips of your fingers ran through a brush of his. This was a reality right now.
You stepped out and caught him shrugging off his coat. Busying your thumbnail again at your teeth you watched his now visible arms flex with the movements.
“All good?” He smiled leaning against the dresser.
There was a pregnant pause in which the two of you merely just ogled one another from across the bed.
You moved first.
You walked over the bed and stood on it, you reached out a hand that he took without hesitation and with the extra height from the bed you met in a heated kiss face to face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you felt his around your hips.
In a wordless haste you yanked at his black T-shirt and busied yourself with taking off yours. He watched mesmerized, as always, the revealing of your skin.
The image before you though, god you wanted to scream.
Hellboy undoing his belt and swiftly yanking the whole thing out of the belt loops without breaking eye contact. Off were your pants, and on was him as he took you down on the bed.
It was a haze, breathless kisses and chants of desire. He one handed the button of your jeans and his own. The brief separation to take the offending items off had the two of you giggling almost. In record time he was back on you and you welcomed it with a ferocity to your kisses. Tongue slipping into his mouth, you swallowed a groan of his that vibrated all the way to your cunt.
He was here, you were here. Physically.
You grinned as he trailed kisses over both your covered breast. “Take-fuck-take it off please, now right now” You felt the air leave your lungs when he simply broke the bra in half and met his reward, two beautifully round breasts he had craved more than any meal. Hellboy pressed his face between them and inhaled before leaving a series of bites and marks. Each time he bit down your raised your hips in search of friction.
The heaviness in the air, the warmth of him lapping and sucking at your breast. The heated tongue wrapping around a nipple. Hellboy devoured you, and if your breast had him like this...
“Baby please, wanna touch you too” Your hands ran down his back, sharp nails leaving a path. Hellboy shuddered as he left a nipple with a loud pop. “Go on, I’m all yours” That very comment sent a gush of heat and you bit your lip to hold a moan in.
You nudged him to lay on his back and you climbed on top of him. Hands running over your body, the feeling of that stone hand gently cupping your rear was enough to make you grind down on him with purpose.
“I promised you something every time we spoke, you remember what that was?” You rubbed yourself on him as you began to trail down his body. Hellboy’s eyes were fogged with lust. “Oh, you remember” You kissed his stomach, nails scratching his sides before hooking into the waistband of his underwear.
He was going to have a stroke.
Hellboy watched you slide his underwear down. Eyes hungry and mouth engulfing his cock. He bucked up without meaning to but you caught most of the onslaught by closing up your throat. A minor choke and you were back on track.
Fuck he was big and thick, you did your best swallowing as much as possible before settling the rest with your hand to jerk. The gut punched groan that left him egging you on. He saw your head bob, the way your lips stretched around his length, the blissed out look as you sucked earnestly. “Shit shit, you look beautiful” Hellboy reached a left hand across your cheek.
Letting him go with a breathy inhale, spit on your chin you jerked him lazily.
He was putting this look away for a rainy day. You had no right looking so utterly debauched and perfect.
“C’mere and kiss me, beautiful” Hellboy whispered softly and you obeyed crawling on him to meet him in a sensual slow lip lock.
Underwear gone, or more so also ripped apart. You were now on top of him about to guide his cock into your drenched hole. The initial burn was actually delicious, that breach between pain and pleasure sending a delightful shock through your body. Once fully seated on him you reveled in stretch and burn. “God this is, fuck I-“ You moaned as you tested with a sway of your hips, he was hitting your spot perfectly. You rested your hands on his chest and he gripped your waist.
Hellboy was gone, the sight of you riding him, lost in your pleasure caused by him nevertheless. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever see. Lost to it all you fell forwards, burying your face in his neck. Your impending release had you stuttering your hips. “I got you baby, I got you” He muttered against your ear. You moaned as he held you, hips pistoning upwards to drive that orgasm out of you.
It crashed something fierce, running all over your body and coming out as a scream against his neck. You felt limp as a noodle but held onto him as he fucked his way through yours. When he came he yanked another orgasm out of you along with his.
The two of you laid there, a mess of limbs clutching at each other. Hearts racing, lungs trying to catch up.
Exhaustion won. You fell a sleep on Hellboy, still inside of you, his mouth against your temple.
There was no turning back now.
151 notes · View notes
finnythepooh · 2 years
Note
Taking this here so we don't argue pointlessly in OP's notes. We can argue pointlessly here instead! :) Don't tell us how to react to things. You don't know us. Don't act like things are universally experienced the same way for everyone. I didn't attack OP. I didn't tell them they couldn't have their opinion. Hell, I wasn't even the alter that sent the initial message but I still apologized for his outburst! So don't act all high and mighty like you're bestowing some mystical knowledge "It's just a roleplay" because how their take affects us is different from how it affects you. /mad You walk up to the person asking for their trigger to be tagged and go "It's not that big of a deal 😊💙", man how's it feel to be the best person around? /s
Tagging critical posts is a common courtesy in this fandom to protect people who just genuinely cannot mentally handle someone expressing a negative take on their comfort character. Maybe you interact differently, that's perfectly fucking fine, but you do not get to tell us how we prefer to interact. And as for your "Just don't read it" comment, we do not have the self control not to eat the poisoned apple if it is sitting amongst the oranges at this moment. We're working on it, but we will consume that which harms us if it is right out in the open, unless it's filtered through our blacklist. The temptation to look is decreased greatly and if we click it then there's nobody to blame but us.
And in the end, if OP didn't want to tag their post as critical, that's fine and dandy. It's their blog. I'd just block and move on. But don't tell us not to ask someone to tag something that triggers us just because "it's a roleplay." God, fuck off with that. /disgusted
howdy! i thought we were over with the convo, didnt even know you considered it an argument so i apologize if i sounded aggressive because that was not at all my intention D: ! i never said u couldnt ask for them to tag it, i said i didnt read that part of the reply and thought u were just mindlessly getting upset with op for having an opinion. i apologized for that already, and ill apologize again! im very sorry for misreading ur reply, didnt mean to sound rude when i was replying to you and i apologize for that as well! i am someone who definitely has more filtered tags from the normal, and understand how u feel. i only said "it's just a roleplay in the end" because u were unnecessarily being aggressive towards op, and me. only asked for u to try and be a little less rude when asking for someone to tag posts. because people forget. as someone with the worst memory in the world and can barely even remember my own age half the time, its hard trying to remember to tag posts. so a simple "hey could u please remember to tag critical posts :)!" would be alright instead of cussing them out, eatting their dog, and offending their mother haha
moral of the story, dont be unnecessarily aggressive on the internet, life's too short to get upset at every little thing. and try rereading someone's reply to fully understand it in case u misread it, i think both of us need to remember to do that :]
have a lovely day, stay safe! <3 /gen
4 notes · View notes
coquelicoq · 3 years
Note
ohhh my god.. thank you for writing a callout post about me? (I mean that genuinely!) I didn't realize it would come across like that and I hope I didn't offend you! im still trying to figure stuff out (about everything tbh.. the world is very big and I know very little and I am very anxious about this) and I don't know if i'll ever have it figured out (look I don't even know for sure how I identify...im just going with that bc it seems kinda accurate?? truly I do not know). the point is!! that was good to hear (both as a callout and as reassurance! good to know it's different for everyone) and ill try to be more mindful in the future :) thank u love ur blog have a good day ♥️
thank you for sending this very sweet and thoughtful ask, i really appreciate it. usually i forget about it immediately, but today five people in a row did the same thing and i was like hmm, this could be an opportunity to provide a perspective that some folks may not have considered before. so nobody's getting called out, it just reminded me of something that comes up from time to time! it mostly becomes a problem when it involves not just saying "i don't relate to this" but "good for me for not relating to this" or anything that implies that there is something disgusting or pitiable about experiencing sexual attraction. this is both because it can be hurtful to the people who do relate, AND because it restricts your own options! expanding your view of sexuality in general also expands your avenues to understanding your own sexuality.
wherever you're at in your own individual journey, i'm rooting for you and i hope you find something that speaks to you personally. it can be very confusing because people will have different definitions of everything, and it can feel lonely sometimes if you can't perfectly map your experience of the world onto those that seem most common (though they might not actually be most common!). you get a say in choosing the label that comes closest to encompassing your reality, and "im just going with that bc it seems kinda accurate??" is 100% a valid way to choose! and if that's not satisfying either, that's okay too. i guarantee you that wherever you're at, you're not alone.
the world is indeed very big and we all know very little and that is scary and hard. it also means that we are, all of us, creatures of potential and possibility. i wish i had known earlier that every sexuality is vast and varied and that i didn't need to be able to relate to everything that every bi person thought about bisexuality in order to be bi. it would have saved me a lot of confusion and loneliness. it would have saved me a lot of feeling like i was stuck and broken, because i didn’t know what was available to me. i don’t know if that is at all the situation you’re in. but in case it is, i guess i just want you to know that, and i hope it is helpful or comforting to you in some way. thank you again for your thoughtfulness and have a lovely night ❤️❤️❤️
6 notes · View notes
macarensesangles · 3 years
Text
im going to keep complaining actually because there’s stuff wrong with me
i just get so frustrated and disheartened sometimes at the fact that so many people in fandoms are like “I NEED to write incest/underage/rape porn!!!” and like “I NEED to be allowed to tell everyone how attracted i am to anime 14 year olds despite being an adult!!!”
like. It’s just fucking not okay, and yet this is such a common viewpoint people hide behind an innocuous label for it and act like everyone else is the fun police and EVERYONE who thinks you shouldn’t jack off to porn about kids is sending death threats 24/7 about it. it’s just so frustrating.
because like, ultimately they complain that they’re not “Normalizing Anything, They Swear!” but treating these topics is sexy and fun is considered normal in fandom. it literally is. there aren’t exclusively separate spaces specifically for this content so you stumble across it all the time, people get offended if you suggest that them posting it is irresponsible or disrespectful or cruel, people literally think they have the right to tell YOU to lighten up if you say you’re not ok with it or with people who like it.
it’s so normal that i struggle to ever look at content of things i like. it scares me to look for fanfiction and fanart and joke posts because even with filtering it shows up, and i don’t even have to look at or read that stuff closely to be upset by it, because what really upsets me is the ubiquity of this stuff.
the message every time is like, “hey, remember the events that completely destroyed your life in every way possible? like, the reason you’re mentally ill, and nearly dropped out of high school, and DID drop out of college? the reason you’ve had a drinking problem since you were 17? the reason you almost tried to kill yourself, like, multiple times? very probably also the reason you have chronic pain? literally the source of like 90% of your problems and the thing that haunts you every waking moment unless you have 12 things to focus on at once? yeah people jack off to that kind of thing, like, ALL the time, just thousands of them no matter where you go. it’s considered a normal thing to jack off to now, so you’re not allowed to get angry or upset about it or everyone will call you a prude. You can like it or you can live in a sealed crate permanently isolated from every other human being until you die.”
it’s just so like. i feel like everywhere i go there’s somebody waiting to laugh at me, who thinks what happened to me is hilarious or REALLY SEXY!!!1, and the worst is that the people who support this kind of stuff even turn THAT around to be like, “haha gotcha!! Don’t tell me I’m fetishizing your trauma, I’m not and I don’t care, you’re a stupid fucking ~anti~ who probably suicide baits children!” which is obviously paraphrased but a thing I really saw being said by another survivor. and no, the halfhearted disclaimer about “sorry ur traumatized tho ig :/“ did not help, like no you fucking aren’t or you wouldn’t say that kind of horrific shit to other people and mean it.
it just really feels like my options are “give up, accept that people will find my trauma sexy, and learn to be at peace with being used as a sex object until i die” or “have everyone hate me and want me to die and be a total pariah for the rest of my wretched life.” obviously this is a miserable way to think and feel and live.
and like, obviously i know it’s fucking fiction, obviously i know it’s not about Me Personally, i’m not an idiot. but it’s about people like me and situations like mine, so what am i SUPPOSED to feel like, exactly, when someone writes something like that? where the moral is “i LOVE beating off to when parents sexually abuse their children, this is also HILARIOUS!” am I supposed to be like “oh well thank god the OP of this fic meant whatever the fuck character and not SPECIFICALLY ME!” like. ugh. i hate it!!! i just really hate seeing things that literally happened to me in real life and that make me want to die and make me carve profanity into my own skin with a knife get used as cheap fucking wank material for some fucking disgusting morally repugnant terminally online fandom idiot. how is that NOT supposed to insult me. how am I NOT supposed to feel horrified and disgusted and violated AGAIN? like, on top of the initial pain, now i have to live in a reality where the worst events of my life are popular masturbation material? now i have to live with the fact that total strangers feel entitled to get their rocks off to scenarios identical to or WORSE THAN the absolute inconceivable hell i endured? it’s like the punchline to a bad joke, but the REALLY bad joke is my fucking life, apparently!
because this is something i have to plan for and be aware of and avoid and always have in the back of my mind forever and ever and ever now! i have to constantly keep one eye open to make sure i don’t ever end up discussing my benign interest in shit like books and movies with someone who will out of fucking NOWHERE be like “oh you know what would make this even better? INCEST! preferably as violent as possible! wow why are you upset you fucking prude 🙄🙄🙄 stop kink shaming me you fanpol bitch”
like that’s where i’m gonna be at now forever. And logging off also does not help because incest and underage and rape are also extremely popular “normie” porn categories ^-^ there is genuinely no fucking escape except hopefully one day when i die and go to hell and it won’t even matter because I’m too busy being like burnt to cinders in a lake of fire. Genuinely that would be preferable to this.
1 note · View note