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unreliablesnake · 8 months

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Bliss (Ghost x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost gives in to his feelings, putting the fact he's above you in the ranks aside, and meets you after your latest mission.

Note: Part 2 of this, but it can be read as a stand-alone. / Here's the happy ending, I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI! Afab!reader. Fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v.

A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling Ghost to break down his walls. Let’s not worry about ranks, let’s not worry about consequences. Keep it a secret, make it some fun sneaking game just for the two of you.

To his disappointment, you kept your distance after that night. Not like he could blame you after he made it clear there could be nothing between you. While he stood next to Price in the briefing room, you looked at him every once in a while, your eyes showing the kind of sadness that made it hard for him to focus. He wished he could hug you, tell you he was sorry and he made a grave mistake by pushing you away.

Because as the days passed, he became more and more sure that he should give in to his needs. He wanted to be with you, but strictly outside of work. This way he could keep a little distance, he could sell himself the idea of breaking the rules.

Soap noticed that something had changed between the two of you, but he only dropped half a sentence before changing his mind. He knew better than to dig into his superior's private life. Whether he had asked you or not, Ghost didn't know. But for his own sanity, he assumed he did not.

The night before they could finally go home, he was scrolling your Instagram profile while lying on his bed, smiling to himself every time he saw a picture of you. It was rare, mostly found among the photos you were tagged in, but he was grateful for each and every one of them.

Suddenly he felt the mattress shift as someone sat down on its edge. He turned off the phone's screen and put it down next to his head to see who it was. When his eyes landed in you, he felt a wave of guilt passing through his body.

"Why are you torturing yourself?" you asked kindly as you reached out to place a hand on his chest.

His skin burned where you touched him, making it really hard to resist the urge to put his hands on top of yours. "What are you talking about?"

You let out a sigh at this. "You liked those photos by accident, I guess. Ghost, you said we can't be together, yet you keep looking at my photos. I'm gonna ask you again. Why are you torturing yourself?"

As he propped on his elbows, Ghost thought about the answer. "I don't want to be away from you," he admitted so honestly that he surprised himself. Well, based on the look on your face, there was no turning back now. "I know I said we can't be together, but I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Why are you like this, huh? Why are you so irresistible?" he asked, his question nothing more but a barely audible whisper.

With a smile, you leaned closer and slowly moved your hand up to his neck, your fingers brushing the hem of his balaclava. "Meet me after the mission," you told him quietly, your voice carrying the sort of authority that made it impossible to say no to you.

Ghost knew he was at your mercy, there was no way he could say no to that. He wasn't strong enough. So he took your hand in his and moved closer to give you a kiss through the fabric of his mask, savoring the feeling just in case this was the first and last time he could do it.

"Come on, I know you want to meet me," you tried kindly, your eyes locked with his as you waited for his response.

"Fuck, love, how could I say no to that?" the lieutenant breathed against your lips.

And he sent you a DM to discuss the details, making sure to keep the conversation online so the others wouldn't know about it. He didn't want conflict. He didn't want tension. The tension between the two of you was more than enough on his plate.

Three days later he was standing in front of your door, this time without his usual mask, his hand raised to knock. But he hesitated, he wasn't so sure anymore about this date. No, he could do it. He shouldn't be that–

"So you're just gonna stand here without letting me know you're here?" he heard your voice all of a sudden.

When he looked up, he noticed you standing in the now open door, your arm resting against the doorframe. You looked so happy and relaxed, the total opposite of what he usually saw during missions. With your trendy clothes and light makeup, he felt like kissing you on those cherry red lips.

"God, why are you like this?" he asked from no one in particular before acting on his instincts and pulling you into a kiss.

You giggled against his lips as you pulled him inside by the front of his shirt. "And you're really handsome. Have you been told that?" you inquired with a wide grin when he kicked in the door and pushed your back against it.

He gently bit on your lower lip, happy to hear a satisfied moan escape you. "We're not gonna leave for dinner, are we?"

You shook your head in response, letting him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. And Ghost didn't need you to repeat yourself, he took the lead without hesitation, his hands moving to remove your clothes with precise and calculated moves.

Ghost's hands roamed your body as if he was trying to memorize every inch and every curve, turning it into a core memory along with everything you were about to do tonight. Because he was sure this would be a night to remember, he could feel that what you had there was truly magical.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled against your neck, enjoying the way you pushed your body against his upon hearing his request.

You gave him the directions to your bedroom, moving in perfect sync with him until the point he picked you up and gently laid you down. Ghost kneeled down next to the bed then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth.

"Prop on your elbows, sweetheart, I want to see your beautiful eyes," he ordered you sternly, making you do as he said while his tongue ran along your already wet cunt. "Look at you. I barely did anything and you're already having trouble focusing on me."

While Ghost laughed at this, you couldn't mirror his reaction. Your thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere much higher, but he didn't mind as long as your eyes were on him. He gently sucked on your clit, the mewl leaving your swollen lips sounding like music to his ears.

It wasn't a race, but he wanted to win, and winning meant drawing an orgasm out of you as fast as he could. He wanted to see how badly you wanted him, how your body reacted to his touch, and so when you tried pressing your thighs together only from feeling his tongue exploring your pussy, he pushed them wider apart, not giving you the chance to stop him.

Your eyes were hazy when he looked into them again, which drew a satisfied smirk on his shiny lips. He let go of one of your thighs and gently dipped a finger into your needy hole, slowly pumping as he returned to your puffy clit, sucking on it as if he was having his last dinner in this world.

You threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed another finger inside you, whispering his name over and over again, begging him to keep going, to make you come. "Simon, please, I can't," you whined between your moans, your hands twisting the sheets.

Ghost let out a deep growl as he put his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place. "Come on, love, come for me," he said, his eyes fixed on you, looking for the eye contact that could hopefully push you over the edge.

And the moment you looked into his amber eyes, your body began to shake, meaningless words leaving those perfect lips like a prayer as you finally reached your first high. He lapped up every drop of your flowing juices, just like he was a man starved, and he couldn't stop smiling while he watched your body slowly relax again.

He licked his fingers clean before pressing one more kiss on your cunt and getting rid of his own clothes. He signaled you to move on the bed, and you crawled up to the headboard, your hand reached out to invite him closer, legs wider apart to give him enough space. He gave you a sloppy kiss, simply loving the way his cock teased your entrance.

"Mind if I don't use a condom? I wanna feel you, baby," he asked between kisses.

You were probably still too lost in the sensation your orgasm left behind to think straight, so you agreed, and he was bad enough not to care about whether or not it was the right decision to make. He wanted it too badly to play nice this time. And if it came down to it, there was always a morning after pill to solve the problem.

So he pushed the tip in, teasing you just enough to earn your whispered pleas for more, begging him to finally fill your needy cunt. But for now he enjoyed this little game of his, only giving you the tip before pulling out, slowly turning you into a desperate mess.

"Si, please," you begged again as you reached up to grab his bicep.

"You want me to fuck you this badly?" he asked with a smirk, then leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

You returned it, hungrily devouring him while moving your hips in a futile attempt to get him to finally make a move. Ghost thought for a second, wondering if he should stop being cruel and just give you what you wanted so badly. Seeing the look in your beautiful eyes, he let out a sigh and decided not to tease you any longer.

At first he went slow, pushing his cock into your cunt slowly, giving you the time to get used to his size. Your tight pussy felt like heaven, and he didn't think he could last long if you didn't relax soon. "Love, try to relax," he told you quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"It's hard to relax when you're filling me up so well," you whined before pulling his head down into another kiss.

He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, feeling ecstatic from hearing your sweet mewls and moans, feeling you press your body close to his as you arched your back from pleasure. He felt your cunt clench around his cock, keeping him deep between your velvety walls, and sending him closer to the edge.

He sped up, going a little harder maybe, but not hard enough to hurt you. He paid attention to your reactions, making sure you enjoyed every second of your time together. When your breathing and the noises you made changed, he knew it wouldn't take much for you to have your next orgasm.

So he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, earning a pathetic whine from you in return, but he didn't stop, it only made him more determined to give you what you deserved. "Come on, baby, I know you're close," he told you before kissing your neck.

And soon enough you finally came around his cock, causing him to reach his high as well not long after that, but he was still focused, he still wanted to fuck you through it. You were overstimulated, completely lost in the sensation, and he simply couldn't get enough of this sight.

He raised his body to kneel between your legs after he pulled out, pushing his leaking cum back into your cunt as he proudly smiled to himself. There you were, a broken mess despite him not even going that hard on you. This was intimate and caring sex, not the rough stress relief he usually experienced with other women.

You were special, the light in his dark life, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he became that he didn't want to let you go. He crawled back next to you, pulling you against his chest before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Mind if I stick around for a few more days? I could use more of your perfect little pussy," he suggested cheekily.

You let out a quiet chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. "I wanted to ask you to stay, so we were thinking the same thing."

Ghost wasn't used to this, but he loved this feeling. He loved how calm and happy he was around you, how easily you could make him forget about his crappy life.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #smut

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librathefangirl · 7 months

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actually scratch the list i need to know EVERYTHING

Well, let me tell you about a few more then. Let's talk about these:

The Loss in Victory (Emptiness)

Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)

Mel with tiny horns and wings

As the Night Falls

Pirate Melban AU

The Loss in Victory (Emptiness)

This is the Zeldris angst fic I was talking about back in... September, I think it was? It's supposed to be for Day 31 of Whumptober, and the prompt "Emptiness". (So the actual fic title is just "The Loss in Victory"). It's a hurt/no comfort fic taking place during the First Holy War. Basically, Zeldris struggles with the news that Meliodas is dead, and also struggles with the fact that it is actually hitting him that hard because:

He should be happy about this, yet all he felt was like someone had taken a big chunk of him out, leaving an empty nothingness where his hearts were supposed to be.

And here is a longer sneak peek:

As Zeldris made his way down the hallways, they parted before him. Anyone standing in his way quickly moved out of the way, letting him pass without any hesitation. If anything, it seemed people kept their distance from him more now than ever. Perhaps it was due to the urgency of his walk, or the tension in his posture, or maybe it was whatever showed across his face. Zeldris couldn’t tell. It was all a blur to him, nothing but the insistent need to get away, get away, get away! He was desperately holding onto the last shred of his composure like a lifeline. He was exposed out here, feeling the gazes of everybody he passed. He had to get away, to his own room. There, at least, nobody was watching, granting him the small piece of privacy he needed right now.

Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)

And here we have another demon bros angst fic. Also focused on the effect of the war/them being on different sides/Meliodas' curse. This time with focus on Meliodas. You can actually thank @hihopelessromantics for binging my attention to a post about Meliodas and Ludociel having scars from training their brothers, which is what inspired this fic. I saw that post and mind immediately went "oh I can make angst out of this".

So, as for the fic, it focuses on this idea of Meliodas having these scars that Zeldris gave him. Scars that he treasure a lot. They remind him of moments he got to have with Zel as kids, of training together or sneaking off from the castle together or even just finding a chance to goof of together. Big or small, they are moments he got to have with his little brother, where he got to be a brother to Zeldris. They mean a lot to him but - uh oh! - the DK and his assholery enters the scene. With the curse, Meliodas body is healed every time he is resurrected, including the scars from Zeldris. Meliodas struggles with losing the scars Zeldris gave him, feeling like he is losing those good memories of them together, and losing Zeldris in a way.

(Unfortunately, no sneak peek available for this one).

Mel with tiny horns and wings

Now onto happier - oh wait, this one is actually angstier than I originally planned... Anyway! This one is inspired by a conversation I had with @zorria about Meliodas with horns and wings. I wanted to write about that, but also make it really tiny and adorable.

Meliodas has an impressive set of wings and horns, but, given the whole hiding he is a demon thing, he needs to hide them. Problem is, he can't actually make them go away. All he can do is shrink them (think the sizes of a baby goat or tiny fairies). Normally, his hair and clothes are enough to hide them, but the Sins discover them anyway. And here the angst comes!

Actually, this was supposed to be a silly little fic about Mel having some adorable demon features with a side of angst in the form of his fear of them rejecting him. But then Meliodas fell in a lake! Okay, the falling in the lake was always going to be a part of the fic because I needed to get him wet, but the amount of angst that came with it was unplanned. As was my mind deciding that what if in this au Meliodas can't swim...

Sneak peek time! I've actually already shared a snippet from this one (here), so here's another one:

Which was the real problem that sunny late afternoon, wasn’t it? Meliodas couldn’t swim. If you have ever been in a situation where you are faced with the possibility that you could die right then and there, you know the feeling. The pure panic that overtakes your body. The way you fight with everything you have; frantically, desperately, without control. Meliodas had been there too many times. He’d also gone one step further, been faced with the inevitable realization that he was going to die. The moment where there was no fight left, the resigned acceptance. Maybe that had gotten worse with the years. If Meliodas died, he wouldn’t really die. Even if he accepted it, even if he actually welcomed it. There was no end to this life.

As the Night Falls

This is another fic inspired by Zorria. It's about Meliodas struggling with his nightmares (because we all know that man's gotta have nightmares after his 3,000+ years of hell), featuring a worried Elizabeth and a sleeping Tristan.

Not sure I have much more to say about this one, so here's a sneak peek:

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, we’re okay. I promise, we’re okay.” Elizabeth’s voice was a light to a dark cave, wrapping around him like a blanket and zapping away all the tension. Meliodas slumped back against the leg of the bed, head thumping lightly against the wall. Gods, it felt like he hadn’t slept all night – but clearly he had. His eyes finally decided to focus, giving him a close-up of Elizabeth’s worried frown as she crouched before him.

Actually I couldn't decide on which sneak peek to share, so here's another:

Meliodas tried to not react to the mild accusation, but she saw right through him anyway. Elizabeth always seemed to know what was going through his head. After all this time, he couldn’t hide. She sighed softly, sitting down on the floor beside him. “I worry about you, you know,” she mumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “We all do.” Meliodas grimaced at that; he had thought he’d hidden it better than that. Clearly he’d lost his touch. He supposed sleep deprivation did that to you.

Pirate Melban AU

Now I know you know a bit what this one's about. But I don't think I've actually talked about specific plot, just the general concept of Pirate!Ban and Merman!Meliodas. So, let me tell you a little about the start of our story. We meet Ban, a young pirate with a foul mouth and a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, who is (once again) finding himself without a ship to call home. While running from the consequences of his actions (literally), Ban ends up taking shelter in a cave. He's not the only one though, because further into the cave he comes across a wounded merman. Ban has grown up hearing (horror) stories of the merfolk living deep in the sea, so what if he ends up a little too curious about the stranger - he can't help it, especially after discovering the he has an attitude to match Ban's own.

A new little sneak peek (previous one can be found here):

How the fuck did he keep getting himself into these situations? Not that his one was his fault. Nope. The captain was the one who'd decided to cut his losses - meaning Ban - once they got into port. Ungrateful son of a bitch! Ban had given years to the Raven and now he was going to be left with nothing – just like that? Fuck no! So, Ban had helped himself to a little – okay maybe not so little – of their loot. So what? He'd helped get that, he deserved his cut.

Actually, since it's probably gonna be a long while until this fic is finished (I'm not the best at focusing on long multichapter fics lol), here's another sneak peek too:

With the first roar of thunder sounding, Ban surveyed his safe haven for the night. It really was an ugly cave. Cracks ran over the walls, splitting the brownish-gray color. From the outside, the cave had looked unstable, but inside it seemed sturdy and strong. Well, at least he wouldn't get crushed to death. Ban pushed off from the wall, walking further into the cave. It wasn't that big, narrowing off into a smaller tunnel the further he walked. A section of the ceiling suddenly dipped down, causing Ban to smack his head right into it. "AH fuck! Shit, that hurt."

WIP Tag/Ask Game!

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denthusiastj · 1 year

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The Flight From Conversation

By SHERRY TURKLE

April 21, 2012

WE live in a technological universe in which we are always communicating. And yet we have sacrificed conversation for mere connection.

At home, families sit together, texting and reading e-mail. At work executives text during board meetings. We text (and shop and go on Facebook) during classes and when we’re on dates. My students tell me about an important new skill: it involves maintaining eye contact with someone while you text someone else; it’s hard, but it can be done.

Over the past 15 years, I’ve studied technologies of mobile connection and talked to hundreds of people of all ages and circumstances about their plugged-in lives. I’ve learned that the little devices most of us carry around are so powerful that they change not only what we do, but also who we are.

We’ve become accustomed to a new way of being “alone together.” Technology-enabled, we are able to be with one another, and also elsewhere, connected to wherever we want to be. We want to customize our lives. We want to move in and out of where we are because the thing we value most is control over where we focus our attention. We have gotten used to the idea of being in a tribe of one, loyal to our own party.

Our colleagues want to go to that board meeting but pay attention only to what interests them. To some this seems like a good idea, but we can end up hiding from one another, even as we are constantly connected to one another.

A businessman laments that he no longer has colleagues at work. He doesn’t stop by to talk; he doesn’t call. He says that he doesn’t want to interrupt them. He says they’re “too busy on their e-mail.” But then he pauses and corrects himself. “I’m not telling the truth. I’m the one who doesn’t want to be interrupted. I think I should. But I’d rather just do things on my BlackBerry.”

A 16-year-old boy who relies on texting for almost everything says almost wistfully, “Someday, someday, but certainly not now, I’d like to learn how to have a conversation.”

In today’s workplace, young people who have grown up fearing conversation show up on the job wearing earphones. Walking through a college library or the campus of a high-tech start-up, one sees the same thing: we are together, but each of us is in our own

bubble, furiously connected to keyboards and tiny touch screens. A senior partner at a Boston law firm describes a scene in his office. Young associates lay out their suite of technologies: laptops, iPods and multiple phones. And then they put their earphones on. “Big ones. Like pilots. They turn their desks into cockpits.” With the young lawyers in their cockpits, the office is quiet, a quiet that does not ask to be broken.

In the silence of connection, people are comforted by being in touch with a lot of people — carefully kept at bay. We can’t get enough of one another if we can use technology to keep one another at distances we can control: not too close, not too far, just right. I think of it as a Goldilocks effect.

Texting and e-mail and posting let us present the self we want to be. This means we can edit. And if we wish to, we can delete. Or retouch: the voice, the flesh, the face, the body. Not too much, not too little — just right.

Human relationships are rich; they’re messy and demanding. We have learned the habit of cleaning them up with technology. And the move from conversation to connection is part of this. But it’s a process in which we shortchange ourselves. Worse, it seems that over time we stop caring, we forget that there is a difference.

We are tempted to think that our little “sips” of online connection add up to a big gulp of real conversation. But they don’t. E-mail, Twitter, Facebook, all of these have their places — in politics, commerce, romance and friendship. But no matter how valuable, they do not substitute for conversation.

Connecting in sips may work for gathering discrete bits of information or for saying, “I am thinking about you.” Or even for saying, “I love you.” But connecting in sips doesn’t work as well when it comes to understanding and knowing one another. In conversation we tend to one another. (The word itself is kinetic; it’s derived from words that mean to move, together.) We can attend to tone and nuance. In conversation, we are called upon to see things from another’s point of view.

FACE-TO-FACE conversation unfolds slowly. It teaches patience. When we communicate on our digital devices, we learn different habits. As we ramp up the volume and velocity of online connections, we start to expect faster answers. To get these, we ask one another simpler questions; we dumb down our communications, even on the most important matters. It is as though we have all put ourselves on cable news. Shakespeare might have said, “We are consum’d with that which we were nourish’d by.”

And we use conversation with others to learn to converse with ourselves. So our flight from conversation can mean diminished chances to learn skills of self-reflection. These days, social media continually asks us what’s “on our mind,” but we have little

motivation to say something truly self-reflective. Self-reflection in conversation requires trust. It’s hard to do anything with 3,000 Facebook friends except connect.

As we get used to being shortchanged on conversation and to getting by with less, we seem almost willing to dispense with people altogether. Serious people muse about the future of computer programs as psychiatrists. A high school sophomore confides to me that he wishes he could talk to an artificial intelligence program instead of his dad about dating; he says the A.I. would have so much more in its database. Indeed, many people tell me they hope that as Siri, the digital assistant on Apple’s iPhone, becomes more advanced, “she” will be more and more like a best friend — one who will listen when others won’t.

During the years I have spent researching people and their relationships with technology, I have often heard the sentiment “No one is listening to me.” I believe this feeling helps explain why it is so appealing to have a Facebook page or a Twitter feed — each provides so many automatic listeners. And it helps explain why — against all reason — so many of us are willing to talk to machines that seem to care about us. Researchers around the world are busy inventing sociable robots, designed to be companions to the elderly, to children, to all of us.

One of the most haunting experiences during my research came when I brought one of these robots, designed in the shape of a baby seal, to an elder-care facility, and an older woman began to talk to it about the loss of her child. The robot seemed to be looking into her eyes. It seemed to be following the conversation. The woman was comforted.

And so many people found this amazing. Like the sophomore who wants advice about dating from artificial intelligence and those who look forward to computer psychiatry, this enthusiasm speaks to how much we have confused conversation with connection and collectively seem to have embraced a new kind of delusion that accepts the simulation of compassion as sufficient unto the day. And why would we want to talk about love and loss with a machine that has no experience of the arc of human life? Have we so lost confidence that we will be there for one another?

WE expect more from technology and less from one another and seem increasingly drawn to technologies that provide the illusion of companionship without the demands of relationship. Always-on/always-on-you devices provide three powerful fantasies: that we will always be heard; that we can put our attention wherever we want it to be; and that we never have to be alone. Indeed our new devices have turned being alone into a problem that can be solved.

When people are alone, even for a few moments, they fidget and reach for a device. Here connection works like a symptom, not a cure, and our constant, reflexive impulse to connect shapes a new way of being.

Think of it as “I share, therefore I am.” We use technology to define ourselves by sharing our thoughts and feelings as we’re having them. We used to think, “I have a feeling; I want to make a call.” Now our impulse is, “I want to have a feeling; I need to send a text.”

So, in order to feel more, and to feel more like ourselves, we connect. But in our rush to connect, we flee from solitude, our ability to be separate and gather ourselves. Lacking the capacity for solitude, we turn to other people but don’t experience them as they are. It is as though we use them, need them as spare parts to support our increasingly fragile selves.

We think constant connection will make us feel less lonely. The opposite is true. If we are unable to be alone, we are far more likely to be lonely. If we don’t teach our children to be alone, they will know only how to be lonely.

I am a partisan for conversation. To make room for it, I see some first, deliberate steps. At home, we can create sacred spaces: the kitchen, the dining room. We can make our cars “device-free zones.” We can demonstrate the value of conversation to our children. And we can do the same thing at work. There we are so busy communicating that we often don’t have time to talk to one another about what really matters. Employees asked for casual Fridays; perhaps managers should introduce conversational Thursdays. Most of all, we need to remember — in between texts and e-mails and Facebook posts — to listen to one another, even to the boring bits, because it is often in unedited moments, moments in which we hesitate and stutter and go silent, that we reveal ourselves to one another.

I spend the summers at a cottage on Cape Cod, and for decades I walked the same dunes that Thoreau once walked. Not too long ago, people walked with their heads up, looking at the water, the sky, the sand and at one another, talking. Now they often walk with their heads down, typing. Even when they are with friends, partners, children, everyone is on their own devices.

So I say, look up, look at one another, and let’s start the conversation.

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adamsart · 1 year

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Because of Walter Livingston I had great adventures as a young man that no one else around me had. Usually we kept the fact I was only 13-15 years old to ourselves usually telling people that I was 19 which no one questioned because there’s no way any normal 13-15 year old had the knowledge I had already. I could not only carry a conversation with older people I fit right in. I know others may have a unfavorable opinion about my streetdad and the fact he was ok smoking drinking and getting high with a 13 year old boy but I would give anything to have him back in my life he was one of the best people I’ve ever known he provided a safe environment where I was free from peoples hate and constant attacks. He took a lot of heat for allowing me to be his friend from all of the neighborhood haters or the local ward I should say. Being called a pedofile by that congregation was truly a pot calling the kettle black. Walter was definitely misunderstood by the Mormons just like I was. He always called me BadMan never Adam it was always BadMan get me a whiskey or BadMan check that chick out. It’s the only street name I have ever gained and I still miss hearing him saying it to this day. Rest in peace. So let’s try to get back on track where was I going with this? My backstory that’s right. I’m sorry this is the condensed version believe me. So after 2 years in the alternative school from hell and 2 years of Utah paper, getting locked up, running away, and a relationship with a 25 year old blond nymphomaniac named Megan, which I’m torn weather was good or bad I mean at the time I sure felt pretty special all my friends dads were all living vicariously thru me and my sex life as a young teen. However I don’t know how healthy it was having 8 hour freaky fuck sessions nightly doing things that I didn’t even see watching porn a lot of biteing choking really rough sex it was her goal to make me hold my cum as long as possible but to get me as close as possible before she did something like biting my neck hard enough to draw blood or scratch me so hard the nail marks didn’t heal for weeks. I often looked like I had gone the distance with mike Tyson the morning after with my hickys bite marks and bruises visible for the world to see. This was the first time I got to experience the joys of being cheated on. She wrote me everyday I was locked up even sent me pussy juices and LSD on her letters and I left her the first day out after I smelled her and how fishy it was. I knew she was a nympho however I didn’t think she was going to dick somewhere else when her 14 year old boyfriend was locked up. Man I was green. So in a nut shell I was a 15 year old that was more like a 30 year old based on life experience. That’s when I was forced to leave Utah by the courts. My only other option was to keep me locked up until 21. Interstate probation to Easton Pennsylvania in the PJs south side. White bread Utah to a school that was 65% black and a neighborhood that was 85% black fuck I was scared to death lol. Coming from Utah where people ostersized me and being most hated I had learned to live as a loner. I tried to be the loaner but it didn’t last two seconds in Easton. People wanted to get to know the new kid. I had a new black friend before I even got on the bus at my neighborhood stop. I was uncomfortable with the attention for sure. I all the sudden had lots of girls that were interested and more than once I was the token white guy at party’s of 60-80 kids lol. I don’t dance but was not allowed to sit down between dances. My guy friends tried to throw shade but only cause they wanted to be me lol. So total culture shock had to learn a new language cause I couldn’t understand anyone the slang back East is way different from the west coast language I was used to. This was probably the first time I felt loved by my family. My aunt melody was a saint she made sure to focus on the important things like my school and getting good grades and being safe about what I was doing. It was ok to smoke weed in Mel’s eyes

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kdipshit · 1 year

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Co-dependancy ;

April 4

I have the faith that what’s best for me will ultimately manifest. I can be honest and say I’m codependent in relationships, I usually focus so much on the person I’m with and the life we have together rather than myself and my own life with ME lol. I feel bad and uncomfortable and almost like I cheat on myself when I drink, which is driving me to stay sober. I received ‘The big book’ in the mail today free, provided by a lovely AA Group over in the state I attended via zoom, so I’ve been extremely grateful in my moments of reading. My relationship with sobriety is at peaceful and positive as I can possibly make it, sometimes I’m worried if I’m hiding everything with a positive attitude or if I’m truely positive about my experience, I really don’t know what I’m saying or how anything is coming out because I feel so…. Idk, like I’m facing the wrong way. I kept super busy today, because I feel guilt. I did my morning routine with guilt in the back on my head, I’m writing this now with guilt plastered all over it. Am I an enabler? Because I enabled myself to get drunk… how long do I feel guilt for. Guilt stems for the abandoned emotion on the emotion wheel I’m looking at, and if this is a sign to get into my abandonment issues well I guess its time to roll up the sleeves, I feel sad and a little defeated. Must I acknowledge in order to go forward? What needs to be done here?

My fear of abandonment seems to take over my body and pierce into my soul, over the years it has stopped me from getting close to someone all together, and distance myself from those inevitably close to me. I feel ashamed when I over share, in fear of someone I love leaving, I hold and hide things in, because thats what seems to push people away the most. I’m like a child hiding things away from their parent. Idk why that analogy came but fuck it, when my parents would drink, they would get into some nasty fights, and when I was a child I remember my mum kicking my dad out on multiple occasions and me and my brother crying, holding and begging for him to stay. He stayed most times, other times he wasn’t far, and would always come back. My dad never truely left, but he wasn’t always there. When I felt the shift of my parents with me, when I was 13-14, I felt abandoned, and angry. I felt like no one knew me because they didn’t want to, I felt like there was something wrong with me, I felt extremely alone… in a house full of family. I wondered what was wrong with me for so many years, because I couldn’t understand or comprehend it, there was nothing wrong with me. Maybe there was lol, I don’t know, I know that I felt normal until my parents stopped talking to me.

I don’t feel good or confident in my writings right now, but ill keep writing. My parents are judges, like not real ones, like the kind of people who judge others a lot, ridicule them for their mistakes. I was judged so hard I let them win and started judging myself the way they did me… my dad decided to throw in a little ‘the gym is not a fashion show just so you know’ after I expressed wanting to go to the gym with him, and the rest of my family lol. I said ‘I don’t go to the gym like it’s a fashion show why would you say that’ and then he said ‘I just know what girls are like’ ????? I said well don’t you know me? And he told me to shut up and he walked away, lol. My parents always shut down the conversation by telling us to either shut up, for fuck off. I’ve always wanted the conversation, the hard ones, the meaningful ones, the ones where we learn and where we dig, something not so surface lev. Is it just me? Who needs to know wtf is going on in order to understand it? I haven’t had a fucking conversation in decades

If my issue with substance abuse is that once I have 1 taste I need to have another, what I’m saying is I take it too far, every time with every substance, I just gotta get high. I have to feel the feeling, and once I feel It, I just wanna feel it more, thats my issue. And I forgot what I was gonna say about that because I was interrupted while writing lol. I would never ever want my parents to see the potentially mean light I see them under, but its the truth, but I would never want to hurt their feelings, yet they hurt mine so many times. I was a good kid, I was happy I was joyful I was playful I was loud I was TALKATIVE I as a good well mannered fkn kid. And then I was abandoned. I’m a different kinda fucked up mannnnn, I was LEFT, while under the same roof, I was done to them. Because they didn’t couldn’t let down what ever bullshit wall they had up, I was determined to know my parents, but they weren’t all that keen on me. I guess thats how I feel in every relationship I’m in, scared they’re gonna drop me, ill have no one, but ill be forced to be respectful when I was continuously disrespected, negated and left behind. And yanno, I wasn’t exactly friends with my siblings because I never came out of my room…. It was an unsafe place for me to be, outside my room. I was friends with my brother outside of my room bc we used to go to school together, we always went late coz mum & dad were already at work, I used to write our late notes, anyways idk, its just all making me now realise how grateful and happy I am with life at the moment, Im really starting to see a future for myself, which is crazy, I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I’m such a positive attitude bitch!!!!!! Honestly I can turn any thought into a positive one, and I unconsciously prove this to myself everyday, all my thoughts are positive, lol. Thoughts are just thoughts, but when they become overwhelming, at least make expositive, you have the power, its just forgetfulness that betrays us.

Im a cuddly and super a friendly person I like to give and show love when I love someone, it can be a bit intense sometimes lol, I don’t show this kind of love often, only to a very special few. I have a maternal kind of love, I just want to take care of you. Blah blah blah, I don’t think I can feel that kind of love again, I don’t know why, well, idk why I say shit like that because maybe I do know and maybe saying idk is a response you give when you don’t want to dig deeper, its like your personal ‘shut up’ you hear from your parents in your ear hahahahahaha. Idk Mann, I’m pretty blazed, so I feel good, its hot though, its also 8pm so my meds have kicked in and I’m teeeee ruuuurrddd.. BOUND2

I am the space between everything i can see. I am space. I could never really figure out what was wrong with me but I remember everyone being so pissed at me for doing some of my own business type shit, like I was extremely hyper active Sexually I was drunk like every day lol, so was everyone else in my house tho???? So what the fuck is wrong with ME. I’m doing the same shit y’all fkn do y’all mad. Okay that sounded a lot like old K, and I’m trying to be better.

#blogging #new blog #mental health #actually bipolar #actually borderline #mental instability #actually bpd #original post #original writing #original words

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trashyocstash · 2 years

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i have some aran/cadhla fics to share so here's one, their first meeting

Today, Cadhla was leaving her hometown of Westford for Dublin. It was going to be a big change, but her parents thought it would be perfect for her. Her father had connections with the WVBA, and was able to get her a job at its Ireland building, plus she had an apartment to stay at too and a phone to talk to her friends and family, so at least it wouldn't be too bad..plus the distance between Westford and Dublin was three and a half hours, so if she ever wanted to go back, it wouldn't take too long.

When she arrived at the WVBA building, she felt nervous and uncertain, hoping everything would go okay but feeling unsure if it would.

Soon, an employee walked up to her. "You Cadhla Devlin?" He asked.

She nodded. "That's..me.."

"Good. I was told you'd be here…anyways our main boxer Aran Ryan has a match coming up, and you need to make the poster for it. Got it?"

"I got it."

"Alright, you'll be making it on your computer here.." The employee sat her down at it. "Now then, I'll be seeing you."

He walked off and Cadhla stared at the computer. She took a deep breath and got started.

When she saw the provided picture of Aran, she couldn't help but stare. She'd seen his matches before, he was pretty popular but she suspected it was simply because he represented Ireland in the WVBA. After all, Aran was a notorious cheater with violent tendencies and was considered "mad". She had to admit, despite how he was, it did make her feel bad for him.

Speak of the devil, Aran Ryan arrived and saw her. He had no idea who she was, but he couldn't help but stare, she looked very pretty to him.

Cadhla noticed Aran and blushed. "Oh! It's…it's you.."

He smirked. "Yeah, it's me..whatcha doing?" Aran glanced at the poster she was making. "Ah that's right..I gotta fight that eejit Soda Popinski.."

She gave him a smile. "I'm sure you'll do great."

Aran blushed but tried to shake it off. "Of course I will, I always find a way to win."

He gave her a grin she found unsettling, but still..oddly attractive. Getting this close to him was interesting, she could get a better look of his striking blue eyes…and those strong hardened muscles, it didn't help that he was in a skin tight shirt.

"Well..I have to finish this poster..but I'm sure I'll see you again." She assured him.

Something in Aran felt disappointed she ended the conversation but tried to ignore it. He gave her a wink. "Feel free to come watch me work out whenever you'd like." Then he walked off.

Cadhla blushed at his flirting, but tried to focus on the poster, which was kind of hard as she kept staring at the picture of Aran. Eventually, she managed to finish, let the employee know and made her way out.

She suddenly felt intimidated, Dublin was huge, unlike anything she was used to and she didn't know her way around at all.

Soon, Aran walked out and spotted her looking nervous. "Need some help?" He chuckled.

Cadhla whipped her head around in surprise. "Aran?"

"I finished my business here," He explained with a grin. "And as for you..it seems you're lost."

She nodded. "I just moved here from Westford, I don't know my way around."

Aran laughed. "Westford eh? I could tell by your silly accent."

"It's not silly.." Cadhla blushed in embarrassment and looked away.

"I'm just teasing," He chuckled. "And..I was born here. I could help you out."

"You would? Oh thank you! I need help getting to my apartment."

"Just tell me the address and I'll lead the way."

And so she did, and soon enough they arrived at Cadhla's apartment. "Thank you so much! I don't know what I would've done without you!"

"Well I couldn't just leave you there." Aran smirked. He'd never admit it, but he really wanted to help her as a result of him taking a liking to her.

She hugged him and he blushed in surprise. "Would you show me around Dublin sometime?" Cadhla asked.

He nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah..sure.."

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

Irish slang:

Eejit means someone who is foolish/doing something silly

#cadhla #aran/cadhla

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readingsrantsrambles · 2 years

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Mary Gaitskill Has Come Online

The writer on the limits of sympathy, the pleasures and perils of the Internet, and the ethics of using someone else’s story.

By Alexandra Schwartz

August 14, 2022

Illustration by Magali Cazo

Mary Gaitskill is a novelist, essayist, and short-story writer celebrated by readers and critics (this one included) for her uncompromising acuity and clear-eyed vivisection of our mottled human nature. Now she is something else, too: a blogger. In June, Gaitskill, who is sixty-seven, began writing a column on Substack called “Out of It.” Gaitskill has long kept her distance from social media; no one was more astonished to find her dipping a toe into the waters of the Web than she was herself. “A surprised hello!” was how she greeted the readers of her first post.

In practically no time, though, Gaitskill found her online rhythm. In “Out of It,” she has considered literary topics like the difficulties of writing political fiction and the “intimate consciousness” that creates a writer’s style. She’s written about current events and social trends—incels, the Amber Heard–Johnny Depp trial, the meanness of people, the destabilizing effects of life on the Internet—and has posted videos that bring her joy. This is freeform Gaitskill, riffing, thinking out loud, liberated from the comparative formality of the printed word. She’s having fun. A few weeks ago, I spoke with Gaitskill over Zoom. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

You just dropped a new post on me, mere minutes ago!

I’ve been nightmarishly prolific.

Why nightmarishly?

Well, I just think, Who has time to read this shit? When friends of mine say, “I haven’t been reading your Substack,” I’m, like, “That’s fine. I wouldn’t read it.” I couldn’t deal with that much stuff in my mailbox. So if people just dip in and out, I think that’s fantastic.

People have also said, “You’re writing so much. Did you write some of these ahead of time?” And I actually did write the first few ahead of time, because I wanted to be sure they were good. But a lot of it was really off the cuff. Like the thing about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. I didn’t intend to do that. The memory of the therapist telling me, “People are just horrible, and the sooner you realize that, the happier you’re going to be.” I just repeated that to somebody, and she was, like, “You should put that on your Substack,” and I was, like, Yeah!

It seems like questionable advice at best, coming from a therapist.

Oh, I think it’s great advice.

You do?

I think it’s among the best advice I’ve ever had from a therapist. I haven’t been able to follow it. But there was a certain whimsy to it. It wasn’t like he was saying [harsh voice], “People are shit, and the more deeply you accept that, the better off you’re going to be.” It was, like [whimsical voice], “People are horrible and stupid, and they’re mean. And the sooner you can accept that, the more you can really start to enjoy yourself.” You see the difference?

Yes. It actually reminds me of something that you wrote in your first post. You were summarizing your work, which I think is a really hard thing for any writer to do. And you said that your work has “a blunt but morally ambiguous (read: realistic) point of view, with emphasis on the strange and granular emotional nature of human experience”—which, to me, sounds a lot like what this therapist is saying. As soon as you embrace a realistic view of humans, you can engage more fully with them.

Yeah, I don’t know. What you just read of my definition of my work was the best I could do.

I think it’s pretty good.

I do think it’s morally ambiguous, usually. And I do focus on the fine-grained emotional experience of people’s lives. That’s certainly realistic. Realism really can encompass so many things. There’s hardly anything that isn’t realistic that a human being can come up with.

But, going back, why do you think the advice from the therapist wasn’t good?

Well, now that you’ve explained it, I hear it how you hear it. But there seemed something almost dismissive about other people that might alienate you from them instead of connect you with them—which, to me, is one thing that therapy is supposed to equip you to do.

Dismissive of what?

Other people.

I think he was taking other people very seriously. He was saying they were a force to be reckoned with and it’s not going to be on your terms, necessarily.

It occurs to me that “other people” are really at the heart of what you’re doing right now. I know you were nervous about writing publicly in this way, which makes sense, because writing for the Internet is really different from writing first for yourself, then for an editor, and then for an audience who is not going to be actively responding to you at the bottom of the text. Can you tell me a little bit about why you were ambivalent about this project, what persuaded you to do it, and how it’s been?

Well, I was ambivalent because I’m uncomfortable relating to large numbers of people. I’ve been kind of wary of it. I didn’t want to tweet, although I thought about it when Twitter first appeared, because I could see how powerful and engaging it was. But I was just, like, What do I have to say to that many people that fast? And I could just picture myself tweeting something incredibly stupid, or drunken, or you know. . . .

I think the strange thing about Internet communication is that people don’t—it’s almost unreal. They forget what they say. It’s almost like they’re talking to themselves: you’re sitting in a room and there’s no one in front of you. Like when you write a book, it’s not as direct, the communication. You’re telling a story that you know people can read, or you’re laying out an argument that you know people will read, but it’s not just talking off the top of your head. And there’s something about that off-the-cuffness. You’re revealing your psyche. Unless you’re very clever, you’re revealing your psyche to vast numbers of people [snaps] like that.

And I just didn’t like that. The combination of the distance and intimacy was very disturbing to me. But, at the same time, here’s this huge thing that’s very important in people’s lives and I’m not having anything to do with it. It just felt odd. I was uncomfortable with that, too.

So, when this came along, it seemed like an interesting way to be part of that without having to expose myself so fast. At first, I didn’t let people comment, because it’s hard for me not to respond to people. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t go on Twitter. I thought, If I say something and fifty people answer me, I’m going to go crazy, either trying to answer them all or trying to ignore them all. I finally decided to do the comments, and I’ve gotten some really interesting ones. Horrible comments don’t really come in much. The most hostile one was somebody who was very, very angry about a grammatical mistake I made.

What was the mistake?

Instead of saying “Lillian and I talk about it,” I said, “me and Lillian.” And her head exploded. She was just so upset. There was some back-and-forth about it, even.

Did you participate in the back-and-forth?

Well, I replied, “Oh for goodness’ sake!!!!” I said that, to me, this is a conversational form. I don’t watch my grammar the way I would if I was publishing a formal essay. And she pounced on that and chewed on it.

It’s interesting that that created more controversy than you writing about incels, for instance.

She probably didn’t read that. She probably just realized this was a horrible blog and she wanted nothing to do with it!

Anyway, I realized that this could be a place where I could communicate in a less formal way because I’ve been kind of stymied by events in the last few years.

Political events, you mean?

Yes. Political events, social events. They’ve been so crazy that I haven’t really known what to say. Like, for example, incels. I wouldn’t have tried to write a formal essay on them, because I don’t really know much about them. If I’m going to write an article about incels for *The New Yorker *or any place else, really, I’m going to feel like I have to have more knowledge. I’m going to have to go find their sites, which I tried. I couldn’t locate any incel sites.

A lot have been blocked.

Or they fix it. They change the sites, they change the way you can get to them so it’s hard to find. So, if I was wanting to make this a more formal essay, I would have felt the need to interview some, or at least look at the sites. And to write something on Substack I did not feel I had to have that kind of formal knowledge.

I thought I was helped by having access to this woman Naama Kates [the creator of the podcast “Incel”] and being able to interview her. Because she’s somebody who does have a lot of knowledge of this group of people.

You wanted to think out loud about the topic, or to learn your own thoughts about it by expressing them in writing.

Yes, because I think a lot of people are kind of in that place. They don’t really know what they think about this. I’m not anti-media. I hope you realize that. I’m part of the media, in a way.

But in media, sometimes—and I don’t just mean mainstream or left or right, I mean media, generally—it’s necessary to define things rather quickly. They tend to define groups, whether it’s incels or trans people or anybody, in a way that can be pretty limited. And I think most people, on some level, are wondering, Is this really what these people are like? Are they really all crazy people who want to kill women, or is it something else? Or trans people. Are they all people who are going to, you know, scream at you if you say the wrong pronoun? I don’t think so.

So I think people want to have a more exploratory, and, frankly, uncertain way of looking at these subjects because they’re so confusing.

What drew you to the subject of incels in particular? It allows you to go to a place that, as a reader, I think you go to a lot, which is the question of sympathy: Who deserves it? What does it mean to give sympathy? What that looks like in writing can be different than in life.

There’s a number of reasons. I think that the idea of this whole group of people that everybody thinks it’s O.K. to mock—right away, that arouses sympathy. I mean, I can’t imagine what it’s like to be twenty-five years old and feel like no one’s ever going to want to have sex with you. That is awful. I don’t blame them for being mad. I don’t think they should be acting it out; I’m sure there have always been people in this situation. But it just seems massive now. Why?

And then another reason, which is more personal, is that I have an almost overattentiveness or responsiveness toward people who are considered losers. And, frankly—I can say this because my parents aren’t alive—it’s because of my family. I think they perceived themselves that way. And were that way, actually. They could not fit into society. They did not know how to behave. They desperately tried. They could pass. They could seem normal. And I think there’s a lot more people like that than is acknowledged.

But because of experiencing it very early in life, and very intimately, and finding it extremely confusing, if I see anything that looks like that, I just start vibrating. Which is, in a way, good, but in a way bad, because it can make me sympathetic to people who may actually be really bad. Even if I think they should be locked up or put to death. I’m not sure I think the death penalty is always inappropriate. If I heard that Derek Chauvin was killed in prison the way he killed George Floyd, honestly, I’d think he deserved it. I realize it’s not my place to say who deserves that—

But that’s how you’d feel.

Yeah. He’s somebody who would be very difficult for me to feel sympathy with. But there are people who’ve done things that are as bad who I would have sympathy for. I’ve known people who act horrible. And, when people do that, it’s because that’s what they learned. They really think this is how they need to be to get through life. It’s a terrible mistake, but it’s a complicated thing.

Acting horrible is an adaptive strategy, to some degree.

Yeah. Like, Donald Trump is not somebody I have sympathy for. But, probably from a very young age, behaving the way he does worked. It got him what he wanted, it made women go out with him. He’s a particularly heinous example, but I think, on a much smaller scale, untold numbers of people do that.

So, it’s hard for me to put that aside. And I think fiction, for me, is a place where you can not only explore but expose that, show that, live it in a way that you otherwise would not. Humbert Humbert is a guy that absolutely deserves to be in jail for the rest of his life. But I like to read an empathic portrayal of him, because it leads you into a deep understanding of not only that kind of person but all people, I think.

Is there a character of yours who similarly seems repulsive, or morally repellent, but whom you were able to inhabit with sympathy or compassion?

That bad? No. I don’t think I’ve ever written . . . can you think of anybody?

I’m trying!

I don’t think I’ve ever written anybody that loathsome. I think child rape—

It’s definitely at the heavy end of the scale.

Yeah. I’ve certainly written about a lot of unpleasant people. Like the guy in “This is Pleasure.”

I was thinking about “This is Pleasure” in connection to the idea of bad behavior as an adaptive strategy that “works” in a person’s favor. The story involves Quin, a male book editor who’s accused of sexual harassment by multiple younger women whom he’s known and worked with for years. To the reader, his behavior seems icky and violative. But he claims that these women enjoyed it, and flirted back, until the culture suddenly shifted. During MeToo, strategies like Quin’s stopped working because the rules changed. And they changed so swiftly, and so publicly, that everybody was left spinning. Is that what you were trying to address?

Yeah, that’s part of it. For that guy—and I think for most people who have strategies like this—when I say “work,” I don’t just mean it helped them get what they want. It seemed to make people like them. It seemed to be a quality that got them affection and love. So, yeah, that’s very confusing when it’s suddenly revealed that actually a lot of people hate you.

I’m thinking about something you wrote, in a 1994 Harper’s essay, about rules: about the rules of society, and how you felt from an early age that you knew what those rules were, especially around something like sex. You don’t have sex until you’re married, because that’s the rule. And you decided that those rules were dumb and that you were going to dispose of them.

But what comes in to replace the rules? One thing that’s interesting to me about incels is that they feel imprisoned by rules about what is and isn’t attractive but they’ve created the most rigid set of social rules possible: here’s how you should look, here’s how women should look, here’s what your body-mass index should be, here’s how you approach someone. It’s fascinating to me that rules replace rules.

Yeah. I just said to my husband today—we’re having an experience with a person who’s behaving strangely in our neighborhood—and I said to him, “This is why conformity has come about. Society needs to protect itself from the weird!”

And I think part of why the MeToo thing happened is what you were going back to. For people of my generation, the rules were very clear. You could break them, and people broke them all the time. But it was clear what they were, especially for women.

And then suddenly it was, like, Fuck this shit. A portion of society decided that, no, this doesn’t work for us. We want freedom. Except there were always unspoken rules, and a lot of that was if you were a certain kind of person, you were supposed to be really free sexually. And you were a dud if you weren’t.

You’re talking about your own youth. The sixties and seventies.

Yeah. Someone at a reading recently asked me, “Was there slut-shaming then?” And I was like, “Well, it depended on who you hung out with.” People I hung out with, no. They might secretly think it, but nobody would have even said that word. Whereas, in other groups, I’m sure that still existed. And then in the nineties, that sort of super-sexualized, super-“free” environment became mainstream, but still with a lot of unacknowledged prejudice against women or certain kinds of sexuality.

And I think, for young people now, it’s become kind of repulsive to see people so floridly acting out. Like when Donald Trump said “grab them by the pussy,” I felt like the reason so many people accepted it is because in that milieu he was in, in the nineties, people did behave that way. And it wasn’t judged as fiercely as it would be now. And so I think the MeToo thing was just a kind of an outraged “No! Stop! This is not O.K. with me.” It was an attempt to create boundaries. I think it was something that many people, especially women, were feeling.

And I’m speaking as somebody who’s more comfortable with that kind of fluidity—or was, anyway. When I was in my thirties and forties, I was not so uncomfortable. I didn’t like people grabbing me on the street or being really rude, but I felt like I could defend myself against it.

Like Margot, the female narrator in “This is Pleasure,” who puts out her hand, when Quin tries to touch her between her legs, and says, “NO!”

Yeah. I remember somebody doing something—he was just getting too close or something, and I grabbed one of his pierced earrings and just pulled. Meaning: I will pull this thing out of your ear if you keep doing this. He backed off very quickly.

But I understand. Not everybody wants to even have to negotiate that terrain. I’m getting a little far afield from your question. What was it?

Well, it’s leading me back to something I wanted to ask you about your Harper’s essay about rules.

But, wait, before we go further, I do remember where I was going.

O.K. Go ahead.

About incels and their crazy rules. That I can understand, in a weird way. It’s not as extreme, but I remember, in the nineties, that there was this explosion of attention to fashion models. Fashion models had always been around, people had always thought they were beautiful. But in the nineties it just became this thing. It was the ultimate that any female person could want to be. More than being an actress, more than being a singer. And it was kind of destabilizing.

I suddenly became critical of my own appearance in a way that I’d never been. I began to be obsessed with it, to look at people and at myself in terms of, This is what’s beautiful, this isn’t. My legs are not long enough. My face is wrong, my lips aren’t big enough. Even though I thought it was sort of crazy, I began to be part of it. I think it’s a strange kind of adaptive thing—that, if you feel like something is so big and overwhelming that you cannot fight it, you join it.

And I feel that that’s what incels are doing. They’re somehow thinking that this is how they’re going to survive in this world, by completely going over to the other side. It’s the wrong idea, but I get it. It took me years to stop doing that.

How did you stop?

I think I just got sick of it. It happened when I was living in Marin County and spending a lot of time by myself. I didn’t see that many people on a day-to-day basis. I was socially pretty isolated.

And when I moved into San Francisco and started spending more time around actual people, it just demonstrated that people didn’t give a shit about that. I mean, they may admire beauty, but it was a much different way of being than this awful thing I was ingesting on MTV.

The real world versus the simulacrum of the real world.

Yeah.

I want to go back to your family. You were saying that they never fit in. Can you describe the way in which that was the case?

It’s hard to describe, actually, except that there was always this incredible awkwardness. They had very few friends. The few times they would invite the neighbors over, I could see this strange inability to talk in a normal way. I remember once—I actually put this in a novel—my father really loved music, and he put on some music for men he was friendly with at work. He got drunk very quickly and put on opera and was almost ranting at them about the greatness of this music. And he meant it in a friendly way. It wasn’t at all angry, but he was almost yelling at them, and they were just, like, “Uh-huh. Yeah. Interesting.” I remember so clearly, because it was one of the first times that I really could see the difference between him and other people, and I just found it puzzling.

Where were you in the family order?

I was the first child.

Did that put you in the role of having to interpret the parents for your siblings?

No, I wouldn’t say that. We all understood each other in some basic ways, but I think when I was teen-ager I became aware that there was a real gap between the world of my family and the world outside the family. They tried to say what they thought you were supposed to say. They really wanted to fit in.

Again, it’s this idea of the simulacrum, what you have to say to appear a certain way when you can’t be that way.

It’s interesting that you say you can speak more frankly about this now that they’re gone. Has your writing changed as a result of that? Have you been able to admit them into your writing differently?

Not at this point. My mother died just in 2017. They would say I was never considerate with my writing!

I’m thinking of this in part because of your recent book “The Devil’s Treasure,” in which you revisited your novels and collaged pieces of them together with a work of memoir that deals, among other things, with your family. What was it like to revisit your novels?

It was strange. I hadn’t reread them for years. And the feeling I got from them, actually, was that, if I read them as a stranger, I would think, This person doesn’t know anything about human society.

That’s what you thought from rereading them?

I was horrified! I thought, This person seems to know absolutely nothing about human society, but she’s throwing everything she has at it, stylistically, to hide this terrible fact! That’s what I felt. It was really unnerving.

Was it because you thought that you weren’t capturing the way people are? What was not accurate about society?

Isn’t it obvious to you? I mean, you’ve read them.

What you’re saying is blowing my mind!

Why?

Because my reaction to your books is not to say that this person doesn’t understand society. I know that, for you, the idea of the individual is paramount: how an individual behaves and reacts within the confines of society. You’ve written about this explicitly, and you’ve written about it on Substack. Did you not feel that that was something you had done?

Well, particularly, like in “Two Girls” [“Two Girls, Fat and Thin,” Gaitskill’s first novel, from 1991], the way I have people talking—I think some of the dialogue is pretty real. But in other cases I just don’t feel it’s representative. It’s not that, word by word, it’s inaccurate or unbelievable, but there’s such a strange artificiality about it.

And I think I can get away with it in that book, because it’s through the point of view of a person who likes to make things very theatrical, and who forms her way of thinking quite baroquely. But I do think it’s compensating. There’s this lack of energetic ease between characters that isn’t realistic. When people are with each other, they’re not like that.

I do think of “Two Girls” as your most stylized book. It has that heightened theatrical quality. One of the characters wants a larger-than-life experience, while the reality of her life is—

Smaller than life.

Yeah. It’s interesting to contrast that book with one like “The Mare.” That novel is about a Dominican girl from Brooklyn, Velvet, who forms a close relationship with a white couple who live in upstate New York. The novel is told from multiple points of view, all written in the first person. You’re trying to capture a lot of different voices.

Yes. I think a lot of people might say that’s more of a failure. But I think I captured Velvet’s voice pretty well, actually. At least, her speaking voice is different from her internal voice. I do think that very young people know much more than they can say, and so I don’t think it’s unrealistic to have her have a very wide-ranging and abstract point of view in her own mind.

But I think the portrayals of her in her home and her neighborhood were a little stilted by my point of view.

In “The Devil’s Treasure,” you write about feeling concerned—especially with the character of Velvet’s mother, Silvia—that you weren’t going to get the voice right. Silvia is a Dominican woman who doesn’t speak English. You say that you were “afraid of suddenly exploiting hardship that I could understand in my head, and then foolishly defining that hardship in a way that real people, if they read it, might find weirdly unrecognizable.”

Is that what you’re talking about now? Do you consider it not to be a success?

Well, what I was talking about was being able to adequately render the flavor of life on the ground where she lived. What you’re talking about is a little deeper.

I don’t know! It’s definitely something that I was concerned about even when I was writing it, because the reality of the deprivation that Velvet would be experiencing was far deeper than I put in the book. It was almost like I was trying to counter reality, or challenge reality, with that book. You know the phrase that I quoted from Nabokov: “the lovely and lovable world which quietly persists?”

Yes.

I wanted to portray the reality of that in a person like Velvet, or even in her mother. That it’s there, even in such deprived circumstances. I mean, they don’t live in the most horrible circumstances imaginable, but they’re very deprived, and very scorned. But it was there, still. It’s this real beauty and love, the lovely and lovable.

I wanted to convey that, and I felt I had a way to do that that another person wouldn’t. So, to me, that was worth the risk of doing the other thing—like, falling short of understanding the forces against the lovely and lovable world, because I would use the wrong language. And I think I did fall short. But I still think some of it comes through.

I want to argue with you. It’s funny to be talking to the author and wanting to defend the book against the author.

If I read it ten years from now, I might feel something different. But right now that’s how I feel.

It’s interesting what you’re talking about, softening the characters’ reality a little. I wonder if that’s partly because Velvet and her brother are based on real kids, a brother and a sister, whom you loved and fostered, which is also something that you’ve written about. Was it on their behalf that you softened reality?

Yes. And it’s also because I know them still that I feel like it’s inadequate. I’m more in touch with her than with him. I still don’t know what she thinks of the book.

Do you think she read it?

I think she’s probably looked at it. When it was published I gave her and her brother copies and I asked her later if she read it. She said, “I started to, and I felt too many things, too many feelings, and I stopped.

I think parts of it would really irritate her and parts of it she might be moved by.

Did you worry that you might alienate her by basing some of the character on her?

Yes, although I didn’t think it would. I told her I was doing it. I thought she might be more bothered by the way the mother was portrayed.

This is a subject that’s come up a lot in contemporary fiction. I’m thinking in part of the French writer Emmanuel Carrère. I don’t know if you followed that case, but his ex-wife, in their divorce agreement, said that he could no longer write about her without her permission. And, when he tried to include her in his latest book, the text had to be changed.

But you really defend your right to write characters based on people you know. You say that it’s your story, too. Where, for you, are the boundaries between what you’re allowed to take and what you shouldn’t touch?

I do have some. If a person feels that even a handful of people are going to know that it’s them, and that they’re going to be harshly judged in a way that might affect their personal life, that’s something I would really hesitate to use. Part of me thinks even that should be usable because it’s art, and art is more important than anything. But another part of me is going, Argh! Really, is it worth it to inflict that kind of pain on another person?

By the way, people have written things about me that I was very upset about, even though most people wouldn’t know it was me.

Did you confront the writer in that case?

Oh, yeah. I did!

And what happened?

He apologized. He thought it was actually very sympathetic. I think most people think that when they write those things.

I think so, too.

If I can identify it as something that I would find painful, that’s when I feel like I should keep my hands off, even though I’m slavering like a beast to do it.

Did you follow that whole thing with the kidney-donation story?

I did. That was so weird.

That’s something that I could see you writing about on Substack.

Let’s refresh our memory on that. There was someone who was posting things on Facebook . . .

Yes. Two people who knew each other in the context of a writing group. And one felt very strongly that she wanted to donate a kidney and was vocal about it.

And she did donate, didn’t she?

She did. She posted quite a lot about it, and then this person who knew her, and who had access to the Facebook posts, based a humiliating character in a story on her. And there was an enormous amount of to-do around this, including lawsuits. What was fascinating to me, though, was that the writer first said that she hadn’t closely based the character on the donor, even though it was so obvious that she had. My feeling was: you can steal it, but you have to accept the consequences.

Was it fiction she wrote? It was fiction, right?

Yes.

But people knew.

Yeah, people could easily identify the inspiration.

At the start of it, I was more sympathetic to the writer, because I could just see how irresistible it was. But then I read things that she had said about the kidney person that were so malicious, and I began to lose my sympathy for her. I mean, it was a weird thing because neither of them looked good. The kidney donor did seem very annoying. But the writer was not at all careful enough about hiding the person’s identity. It just seemed that there were multiple places where she could have protected the subject more, and that she didn’t bother because she didn’t care, and it began to seem like she wanted her to be an object of ridicule. And that’s when I kind of went, Unh-unh. She did actually do something wrong.

It goes back to your beast comparison. You’re slavering over the details, and you can take them, but you have to accept the risks.

I mean, didn’t she actually quote from her at a certain point?

She quoted from Facebook posts. I followed a similar trajectory to the one you’re describing, in terms of sympathy.

I mean, that’s just bizarrely lazy. Yes, they were great quotes. But I’m sure she could have come up with something better herself.

But it’s hard. Again, this is part of the problem with social media. You can just see it all hanging out there. In a way that’s good, that people can see this and things get exposed. But, on the other hand, it just makes you feel gross when you read it.

It brings me back to something that you wrote about on Substack, which is the idea of embodiment, and how being disembodied creates different sets of reality. You talked about it in terms of social media, but also in terms of fiction. I really like your example of telling writing students to create a character who’s looking out the window. Situate them in a world.

For much of my writing life, that is where I would draw a sense of inspiration. I don’t do it as much anymore, because I’m not that different from how other people are with their phones.

I was just thinking about the idea of responsibility toward other people, and how being embodied or disembodied changes our sense of it.

My husband was actually saying something a few days ago about how, without relating in an embodied way, you have no empathy. Because we all have bodies, and that’s the heart of empathy, that we recognize each other as these creatures with bodies that can be hurt even if we’re very strong.

And I think there’s really something to that. I think that people probably type things on Twitter that, if they were thinking in a more considered way, they wouldn’t mean at all.

That’s definitely the case.

I mean, it’s not that I’m against the Internet. Without the Internet, the pandemic would have been a lot worse. Because of Zoom and things, you can at least see images of people and hear their voices. It made everything better. But it does come with a price.

You were saying before that you didn’t want to expose your psyche on Twitter. The other thing that Twitter does is change how your psyche works. There are genre clichés that everyone gets stuck in. There’s a way of expressing outrage, a way of expressing skepticism. These are almost literary clichés, but they enter your mind when you use just about any social-media platform.

Having a Twitter mob come after you is a lot better than having people marching down the street with a pitchfork, coming to your house, setting your lawn on fire. I’d much prefer a Twitter mob to that. But, yeah, this kind of disembodied rage is really disturbing because you don’t know how seriously to take it.

You wrote about that with the case of Amber Heard. You were really affected by going on YouTube and stumbling upon all these videos made by her detractors.

It began to make me sick. I was, like, Who is this person? Why has she suddenly become this target for all this crazy hate? I think there are a lot of reasons that happened, but, still, it was just so disgusting.

You wrote that you don’t think anyone deserves that kind of public shaming.

I don’t!

We’ve been talking about sympathy. What you’re describing with the mob is the utter absence of sympathy, a moral judgment that refuses compassion. I’m wondering if you distinguish between sympathy and pity, and what you think of pity as a quality, both morally and in fiction.

People have asked me this because I used “pity” a lot in “Veronica” [Gaitskill’s 2005 novel] in a non-pejorative way, and people really have an aversion to the concept of pity. I don’t, but it depends. I think of pity as something more raw and powerful than sympathy.

It can be really odious when somebody sees you as an object of pity because they don’t think you can do anything. And that’s the only feeling they have about you—a creature to be pitied. I don’t think anyone would like that.

But, to me, it’s more of a visceral feeling. It doesn’t automatically come with contempt. I’ve pitied people without it having a negative connotation. War victims. That child in Syria whose home was bombed. He was in a state of shock. “Sympathy” isn’t the right word for what one might feel for him.

I see what you’re saying, and I also see why people would resist it, in a way. Because the case you’re describing emphasizes a quality of pity that sympathy doesn’t have, which is a power differential. You’re safe and not subject to war, and so extending sympathy to someone who is in that situation feels inadequate. Pity may be the feeling of the strong for the weak.

It doesn’t feel that way for me. It feels more horrible than that. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m sitting here going, I’m safe and he’s not. It’s just—that can happen to anybody.

Yeah.

It’s unlikely to happen to us, but not impossible. I mean, if a massive hurricane or something hit us, it wouldn’t be as bad, but we could find ourselves in a place like that. I don’t feel powerful when I look at that situation. Maybe I secretly do and I don’t acknowledge it. I’m not sure. I just know I don’t feel good.

Going back to Substack, do you have any plans to stop writing, or will you just keep going for now and see how you feel?

I’m not sure yet. Something that has been a little nerve-racking about it—and maybe why I ultimately can’t keep doing it—is that, because the response is so quick, it’s kind of jangling. I sometimes wake up thinking about it. You’re aware of all the psychic attention on you. It’s exciting, in a way, but it’s disturbing.

That’s what I mean about social media changing the psyche. It does.

People have said things like “How could Ta-Nehisi Coates have walked away from his million-plus Twitter followers?” I can definitely see why he would. It’s just crazy to have all these people in your force field.

But I definitely have some posts planned. I’m writing about a Chekhov story either next week or the week after.

Which story? Can you tell?

“Gusev.” It’s one of my favorite stories. I love it. ♦

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frogtanii · 3 years

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warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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A Little Voice Told Me - Pt.2

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE ***Good Golly!! Y'all really like the angst, huh? Here you guys go. Cry your hearts out and enjoy! - B*** Beelzebub woke up the rest of his brothers early the next morning. While most of them attempted to flip him off or threaten him at the initial disturbance, all it took was him saying that they needed to talk about you for them to shoot out of bed. In a matter of minutes, all of them, except Levi, were seated around the breakfast table. "If we're talking about MC, why aren't they here?" Satan asked while poking at a piece of fruit. "I don't know about you, but I personally don't feel right talking about them behind their back." Belphie scoffed and laid his head in his arms. "It's not like we're gossiping about them or anything. They were acting off last night, and Beel thought we should discuss what we're gonna do about it." Beel nodded, "They pulled into themself halfway through the night, and was upset but kept brushing me off whenever I tried to talk to them about it." Mammon huffed and crossed his arms. "Maybe they just didn't feel like they could talk to ya about it," he rose to his feet and began to walk towards the door. "I'm the first! I'm sure I can get it out of them, easy peasy! I'll just head in there and-" "Mammon, sit down!" Lucifer hissed. Mammon grumbled under his breath but did as told. Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've talked about this. Stop bringing up the whole 'first man' thing. MC is in a relationship with all of us. Not just you." The second-born pouted and stabbed an egg with his fork.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and looked back at Beel. "Something clearly happened during the date. Do you have any ideas at all at what it could've been?" Asmodeus stirred a swirly straw around in his drink. "I mean, I would be pretty upset if I spent three hours of my evening at a barbaric sporting event too," Asmo chuckled and smirked. "The only good thing about sports is that you get to see all those rippling muscles of the athletes in action." Beel scowled at his brother took a bite out of the omelet that was on his plate. "It wasn't because of the game. MC loves coming to my Fangol games and was having a blast with me until halftime. Something had to have happened while I was gone." Asmodeus opened his mouth to counter the statement when Leviathan came rushing into the room carrying his laptop. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the sight, "What have I told you about devices at the table?" Leviathan shot him an annoyed look as he plopped down in one of the chairs. "This isn't about table etiquette. This is about MC," he looked over at Beel and Belphie. "I think I have an idea on what may have caused them to start distancing themselves." Everyone perked up in interest at the news; each one of them eager to know what was distressing their loved one so much that they felt like they couldn't talk to them. "Well are you going to tell us, or are you just going to sit there?" Satan quipped, his anger beginning to get the better of him as he sat on the edge of his seat. Levi gave him a flat look before he typed a few things on his keyboard. "I was doing a raid last night trying to keep my mind off of what might've happened with MC and decided to ask my party members about it," Leviathan's expression darkened as he began to explain. It was clear to everyone that whatever was said, wasn't taken lightly by the otaku. Rather than reading the conversation out loud, he turned his laptop screen for all his brothers to see. Leviachan: Gaaah! I just can't focus on the game tonight. My partner came back from a date tonight and has been acting kind of sus. There's definitely something bothering them, but they refuse to tell anyone. Ruri-Chans-Husbando: Dude, you're talking about that stupid human right? Why are you even with them? You shouldn't give a Normie like them the time of day. Waifu-Addict: Exactly! Listen, we've all been talking and you need to drop that whore. They're totally just using you and your brothers for your titles and power. The demons read in horror and rage as the chat room filled with messages from the members of Leviathan's party all saying similar garbage about you and degrading you in every way they could think of. Satan stood up and began to pace near the table as he used every inch of his self-control to keep himself from lashing out. "I want names, Levi. Who are they and why do they seem to think it's okay to talk about MC like- like that?!" Satan snarled as he curled his hands into fists. Levi tsked and crossed his arms, as Lucifer took the laptop to look more closely at the messages. "You say that as if I haven't already used my 'title and power' as Grand Admiral to have my men collect and imprison them. They're at the navy base waiting for us to get our hands on them as soon as we sort this whole mess out." Belphie growled, now sitting up and wide awake. "Get our hands on them is right. No one gets away with this shit," Asmodeus glared at the computer as though it had just dyed all of his clothing brown. "Rotten brats. They're all just jealous of stunning MC. Ugh, Diavolo, haters are the worst." Beel pushed his plate away from himself as he frowned deeply. "As disgusting and horrible as this is, what does it have to do with MC getting all quiet during our date?" A low rumble came from Lucifer as he handed the laptop back to Levi. A fiery hatred was burning brightly in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. "If a bunch of anti-social shut-ins are going around talking about our dearest MC like this, I believe Leviathan's point is that others probably are."

"Ouch. I wasn't going to say it l-like that, but yes," Levi winced and continued, "MC probably overheard people saying something about them. I mean, if people said that crap about me I'd probably hide in my room and not come out for months!" Mammon, who had been surprisingly quiet during all of this, had a very serious expression on his face. "Right, and we don't want MC to go through that. For Diavolo's sake, they've left alone to overthink this enough," Mammon stood up and headed towards the door again, Satan hot on his trail. "I'm going up to there to talk with them. Ya'll are welcome to come with, but you ain't stoppin' me." "Actually, Mammon, you're not. We should wait until MC comes to us," Lucifer interrupted. An animalistic snarl tore its way from Satan's throat as what little self-control he had snapped. Wrath incarnate lunged himself at Lucifer, grabbing his older brother by the collar of his cloak. "Are you serious, Lucifer?! You're seriously putting your stupid pride first, now?!? MC needs us!" Lucifer growled and pushed Satan off of him as he stood to size him up. "No. What they need is to not feel pressured to open up when they aren't ready! We can't make them feel like they can't come to us!" Mammon scoffed from where he stood in the back. "Oh, cause that's perfect logic! News flash, oh wise one, They ain't gonna come to us if they're thinkin' they're a burden! But you wouldn't know anything about that would you?!" Lucifer's eyes widen and he took a step back in shock at the statement. "What is that supposed to mean?" Mammon and Satan both opened their mouths to put Lucifer in his place when Beel all of sudden cleared his throat loudly. All three of the angry demons turned to snap at him but froze as they saw you standing in the room behind them. They instantly straightened themselves up gave you their full attention. The air seemed to lay still between you as everyone waited for the other to make the first move. As with almost every situation, it was Mammon who broke the silence. He took a step towards you. "MC, I was just coming to get you actually. There's somethin' we all wanna talk to you about." They could hear your breath catch in your throat as you took a step back. Panic filled your eyes the moment the words left his mouth. "O-Oh. I, um, I was actually just going to grab an apple and then head off to RAD for class. M-Maybe we can talk afterwards?" Satan frowned as you walked past him towards the fruit bowl. "MC, it's the weekend." You stopped mid-step. An uncomfortable tension filled the room as the obvious excuse was exposed. The brothers waited for you to move, to speak, to do something to give them any sort of sign for what you wanted them to do, but you just stood there, still like a statue except for the tremors in your hand. "Come on, Darling," Asmodeus spoke softly. His face clearly showed the hurt and concern that was coursing through him. "Everything's alright, I promise. We just need to talk about a few things." The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. ***Apparently this is now going to be a three-part series. This part was interesting to write. I fully believe that if the brothers were in a poly relationship with the MC they would definitely bicker and argue about

who knows MC best and who had the better date whenever MC isn't around. Honestly, they probably have a score chart 😅 I hope you guys liked part 2! Keep an eye out for part 3, where MC finally opens up to the boys and we have some hurt/comfort times \uwu/ ***

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peachycoreroo · 3 years

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angel | kuroo tetsurou

summary: the only thing that came to mind when you heard the word angel, was your crushes ex girlfriend. so what do you do when suddenly you’re the angel or how a book can bring two people together

pairing: college!kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

genre: smut, a lotta plot tho, basically pwp

word count: 7.9k

warnings: dom!kuroo, fingering, oral fem! receiving, praise, both being extremly needy, it’s not really kinky, slight breeding kink tho, a few spanks, vaginal penetration

authors note: pls don’t even ask about the book thing, this entire thing is based of one of my dreams and i had no idea why the book appeared, but it did and i didn’t wanna leave it out soooo, ye<3 here’s a link to my masterlist

you sighed, as you continued typing your essay. maybe coming to the coffee shop was not the best idea you had, since it was friday and apparently every college student on campus decided it was coffee time after their lecture, but you didn’t expect it to be so overflown with people.

sitting at the far back, you realized that you were not going to get any work done with how loud everyone around you was being, so you just sat back and observed the people around you, while drinking the cheap coffee you ordered earlier. observing and analyzing the behavior of those around you always came natural to you. some guy watching his girlfriend as she was deciding what to order, even though she was taking way too long, with love. a friend group of a few pretty girls walking past a table full of sexist pigs who thought the only way to get their attention was by whistling after them as if they were dogs. and your crush looking at you.

wait.

huh?

quickly averting your eyes back to your laptop, you could feel your heart rate pick up to an unnatural speed. pretending to suddenly be terribly busy with drinking coffee, a million thoughts ran through your head. you were quite positive that you’ve seen his girlfriend sitting right next to him, so why was he staring so intensely at you?

it’s not as if you never talked. kuroo tetsurou was easily the most interesting person you have ever had the pleasure of having intellectual conversations with. you were taking some business classes in your third semester, since you thought they would be of value for your future. that’s where you met him. kuroo sat next to you since the first day of the lecture but you were way too intimidated by his attractiveness to start the first real conversation beyond greetings, so when the opportunity had arisen, you snatched it right away.

after one of the lectures, he left his phone on the desk and since he was already gone, you took it and hurried after him. just as he was leaving through the huge main doors of your university, you caught up to him and grabbed his arm. embarrassingly, not being the most athletic made you look like a creep as kuroo directed his confused stare at your form, hunched over, breathing hard but still latching onto his arm.

“uh, hi? y/n, right?”, the tall boys’ confusion lightly seeped into his questioning tone as his eyes moved between you and the hand you used to hold him back from walking further.

taking one last deep breath, you forced yourself to stand up right and look into his eyes, but oh, what mistake that was. funnily enough, you never actually looked directly into his eyes, so you didn’t expect to suddenly have to divert all your focus on trying to keep the gasp, you wanted to let out, in your throat. in your memories, from the milliseconds you had the courage to look into his eyes when he greeted you, his eyes were brown but all at once you were confronted with the most beautiful hazel eyes you have ever seen.

as a consequence of having to put all your mental capacity on not gasping out loud or even worse, admitting how attractive he was, the words that came out of your mouth only furthered your embarrassment.

“you. phone. lecture. forgot”, you stumbled over your words as if that were your first attempt at communicating.

feeling your already hot face burn brighter as tetsurous confusion further solidified on his handsome face, you only hoped he thought the running was responsible for you looking like a sweaty mess.

you forced yourself to let out a short laugh as you broke eye contact to gain back your composure. “sorry, I didn’t expect the running to get to me that bad. maybe lev is right, I should try some aerobics with him”, starting to mumble towards the end, you shook your head. “anyway, you forgot your phone on the table in our lecture just now. i didn’t want to hold onto it till thursday and didn’t know where else to find you, so i ran after you. m’ sorry if I kinda freaked you out”, you quickly added while holding out his phone to him.

as you never really talked to the tall man before, your head snapped up to look at him when you heard his deep chuckle. was there something that’s not attractive about this man?

taking the phone from your hands, you were finally able to experience the first full sentence kuroo tetsurou ever directed at you. “well, thanks. i definitely didn’t wanna be without a phone two whole days, so i appreciate you running after me with such determination”, he remarked, as he observed how out of breath you still were, grinning.

“oh god, you know, never doing anything nice for you ever again sounds good right about now”, you groaned, lifting a hand in front of your face to stop him from studying your slightly damp face.

nothing on this green-blue-brown floating rock in space that is also known as the earth, could have prepared you for what you were witnessing next. with your mouth slightly ajar, you looked at tetsurou as he leaned over, clutching his stomach, while letting out the funniest laugh you have ever heard in your life.

in your mind, you saw a quick flash of a scene from ‘the lion king’, in which one of the hyenas was laughing exactly like that. you briefly wondered whether kuroo was influenced by that scene as a kid before you couldn’t keep your laugh in anymore after the initial shock subdued.

“my apologies, the situation was just way too perfect for me to not tease you. i’d be honored if you’d grace me with your kindness again, my highness”, he slightly bowed while, once again, flashing you that sly smirk that made you wanna punch and make out with him at the same time.

you tried to match his energy as best as you could with your head jumbled from the proximity to the man you have been sitting next to every tuesday and thursday from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., but looking back at the interaction, you couldn’t wrap your head around tetsurou wanting to continue talking to you after that conversation.

“i’ll consider it, peasant.”

after that, you and your smart seatmate talked a lot more. you found out that he was majoring in sports management and minoring in chemistry even though it was so different from management, just because he liked it. lev, your best friend at college since the first day when he didn’t see you from his 6’5” point of view and knocked you over as you were looking at the menu in the very coffee shop you were currently sitting in, turned out to be one of kuroo’s old friends from high school. which let you to find out the most unfortunate information about kuroo tetsurou thus far.

as you were walking to your next lecture with the dark-haired man, lev joined in with a tall, blonde, and gorgeous woman by his side. you immediately recognized alisa, lev’s sister. even though the silver-haired boy was ginormous, he couldn’t hold his liquor very well, which resulted in you having to drag the giraffe of a human home after a party quite a few times. there, you met alisa.

wanting to go in for a hug with the beautiful blonde, you froze at once as you tried to process what you were seeing. tetsurou had an arm wrapped around her petite waist, the other one placed on her sharp jaw, as he softly pecked her lips.

lev excitedly started telling you about a new side job he got as a model and while you supported him with your whole heart and were genuinely proud of him for landing that job, you could only zero in on the sight in front of you. your eyes hyper focused on the way his large hands were gently grabbing her waist, your ears on the soft ‘how was your day?’ and flirty ‘better, now that you’re here’ exchanged.

putting on your best poker face and directing your attention to the excited titan beside you, your own reaction startled you. even more surprising was who you were jealous of. you did have a small crush on alisa at the start, who wouldn’t? she’s tall, beautiful, fun, loving, caring, alas she was way too similar to lev to develop a full-on crush on her. then, it dawned on you, that the one you were jealous of, was not tetsurou, but in fact, alisa.

of course, you thought your seatmate was attractive from the first moment you saw him, but how you managed to develop a crush on him without even realizing it, was beyond you. ugly, jealous thoughts made their way into your head about one of the most loveable people you met. those disgusting thoughts slithered their hands around your throat, trying to suffocate you and so you buried that small crush in the back of your mind.

after that encounter you kept your distance to the handsome male. it was better for you, your sanity and everyone involved. in no way were you ever going to go between a loving relationship because of your own selfish feelings.

for crying out loud, you didn’t even know kuroo that well while alisa was like a sister to you. however, you weren’t able to tune out the insecure voices in your head. of course, he liked tall, model-like women who resembled angels not only physically but also with their personality. who were you to compare yourself to her? not even you yourself liked who you were, so why would one of the most attractive guys you ever saw?

you deserved someone good, but alisa deserved the world, so you just wished that tetsurou was the best for her.

and while kuroo tetsurou was a lot of things, he wasn’t ignorant, so when you decided to sit down in another seat in the lecture a few times or made up some excuses as to why he couldn’t walk with you to your next seminar, he knew something was wrong.

which brings you back to right now, with you staring at your laptop, hoping that the boy you’ve been trying to avoid wouldn’t come over to check on you. alas, your luck was apparently all spent, because you could see a tall, dark figure drop themselves on the bench in front of you.

“y/n.”

at the low tone of his voice calling your name, you lifted your gaze from your laptop to look at the boy you were trying to stay clear of.

“hmm? oh, hey tetsurou. didn’t see you there.” bullshit, he thought.

“yeah, ’m here with alisa. just a quick break before she has her next lecture.” while saying that, kuroo focused on your expression, trying to gauge your emotions and maybe get a hint on why you were actively keeping him at arm’s length.

after taking a swift look in the direction the happy couple was sitting just a few minutes ago, you nodded and kept your eyes on your coffee.

“that’s nice, you should probably go back now though. don’t want you to waste precious date time”, you said cheerfully, but weren’t able to keep out the slightly bitter tone out of your voice. that’s exactly why you were trying to stay away from him. the sight of the merry couple only fueled your toxic thoughts about two people you cherished and even though you wished for them to be happy together, the insecurities deep inside you wouldn’t let you.

seeing the slight change in your voice and expression, kuroo cocked his head to the side. did he say the wrong thing?

“she’s already leaving, so i decided to catch up with you for a bit.”

fantastic.

“well,” you remarked while closing your laptop and starting to pack your things, “I also need to get going, was nice seeing you though.”

“i’ll walk you”, was in fact not what you wanted to hear. but the universe hated you for some reason. you looked back at him and waved your hand dismissingly, trying to speedily think of a reason why he couldn’t accompany you: “uh, you see, i, uh... i’m visiting my parents this weekend, so i’ll just take the train. ’m not going back to the dorms.”

even if kuroo would have been stupid and oblivious, which he was not, your hurried attempt at getting rid of him just confirmed all his suspicions. but the ex-captain wasn’t going to let you run away from him so easily.

“no problem, i’ll walk you to the train station. the field i practice volleyball in with lev and a few others is nearby. ‘was gonna head there anyway, let’s go.” this time, he didn’t let you enough time to object, so you were stuck grabbing your things and following him, regardless of what you wanted.

to your surprise, kuroo didn’t say a thing on the way to the train station. you expected him to force you into a whole debate about whether pluto was a planet or not, but he just stayed silent. was that a bit of your luck shining through, or was he angry?

not wanting to push your luck any longer, you stayed silent as well, as you waited for your train at the designated platform. guess you had to make a surprise visit to your hometown because of your little lie, but maybe that was exactly what you needed. some time away to clear your head.

but just as you got excited for the spontaneous trip, kuroo finally dropped what has been on his mind the whole walk or rather, the whole three weeks you’ve been running away from him as if he was on fire and you couldn’t wait to get away from him as far as possible.

“y/n. why are you avoiding me?”, he questioned, looking at the rails ahead, instead of you.

“w-what? i’m not, why would you think that?”, you quickly sputtered out, hardly able to convince yourself of your own lies.

tetsurou gave you a look of complete skepticism, quickly shutting down your protests. “don’t play dumb with me, ’m not stupid. i know you’re not sitting down way further in the back or running out of the lecture on accident. you’re doing this on purpose. even just a moment ago you didn’t want me to escort you. tell me why.”

luckily, the train arrived just on time, so you quickly hoped on with a fleeting 'see you next week' and hoped he would just assume you didn’t quite catch what he said because of the train.

he didn’t though. he knew that you heard him.

the short spontaneous weekend trip turned into you staying for almost two whole weeks because of a cold, so your mom wouldn’t let you return without someone taking care of you, not knowing you had some big news waiting for you once you got back.

“we broke up.”

wou were currently in the library after returning to campus, trying to catch up on some lectures you missed, when alisa entered. together, you were walking around the english literature section, catching up when she dropped the bomb.

“wait, what? how? when? why? huh? what did he do?”, you asked dumbfounded, feeling bad about your two friends, who were so clearly in love, breaking up. but even more than that, you could feel disgust creep up your spine because deep down you knew you were sickly happy about the fact that kuroo was now single. what a shit fucking friend you were.

“relax”, alisa chuckled. “he didn’t do anything, we just kinda came to the agreement that we don’t love each other the same anymore. i felt like he was always distracted the last weeks we were together, always deep in thought, and i decided to concentrate on my graduation and career as a model. it was a great college relationship and i still care for him, we just… we broke up about a week ago.”

“well, as long as you’re both happy with the decision”, you sighed while picking ‘pride and prejudice’ by jane austen from a bookshelf, not feeling like such a piece of shit for being lowkey happy about it anymore, but you still knew you two would never work. even if the breakup was mutually decided, tetsurou was still her ex.

hearing alisa giggle, you turned your gaze from the book in your hand and wondered: “huh? why are you laughing?” the tall blonde only grinned and continued her way down the aisle. completely confused, you followed her with the book still in hand.

“what the fuck? kinda acting sus not gonna lie.”

“wow, I thought you had better jokes than that y/n”, she teased, sitting down at a nearby table.

breathing out some air out of your nose in mock anger, you sat down beside her, tipping your non-existent fedora. “sorry i’m not up to your comedy standards, m’lady.”

alisa laughed loudly before noticing the book you were still holding, her laughter turning into a knowing grin. once again, you shot her a confused look: “what is it with you today? your mood swings are confusing the shit outta me.”

“you know, that’s like one of tetsu’s favorite books.”

“what? 'pride and prejudice'?”, you inquired, puzzled. why was she telling you this? “are you like, having some post-breakup nostalgia or?”

she laughed once again, waving her manicured hand dismissingly and shaking her head: “it just kinda popped into my head. i never read it, but he once wanted to read it to me. it did not end well; i couldn’t take it seriously and had to laugh the whole time. he just gave up and sulked for the rest of the evening.”

“yep, definitely pbn”. the girl shoved your shoulder slightly while snickering before taking out her laptop and working on something, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.

as fate would have it, you didn’t really talk to kuroo for the last two weeks of lectures. finals were catching up and you had a lot of exams, leaving you with no time to catch up with the tall boy. plus, you were still trying to avoid him. you weren’t about to give into temptation and try your luck with alisa’s ex, which was much easier if said temptation didn’t walk around looking fine directly in front of you.

but with the weekend starting, you agreed to go to a party with the haiba siblings to treat yourself to a break from typing essay after essay. it was obvious that kuroo would also be there and this time, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him. the running had finally caught up to you.

before the party, you decided to go to the library to work on one of your essays, but with how much work there was left, you simply forgot the time. at 10 p.m., your phone rang.

“hello?”

“girl? why aren’t you here yet? and why aren’t you answering our messages? we texted you like a million times”, levs’ questioning voice echoed through the speaker.

quickly checking the time and number of messages you got, you gasped: “oh god, so sorry! i was at the library working on my shitty marketing essay! ’m gonna be right there!”

ending the phone call, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to your dorms. stripping on the way to the bathroom in your one room apartment, you hopped into the shower, feeling as if you were trying to break the world record for the fastest shower known to men.

as you were stepping out of the shower a few minutes later, someone knocked at your door, startling you. did the haiba siblings come to pick you up? with a hasty ‘’m coming’, you hurried to the door in only a towel.

“hey, I just got out of the shower, I just need…” faltering in your sentence, you gripped your towel tighter, trying not to freak out. because there were no alisa and lev in sight. just kuroo tetsurou. while you were standing there. with only a towel on. fuck. “that’s uh… you’re not alisa and lev.”

“er… n-no, no i’m not”, kuroo stuttered out, at least having the decency to avert his eyes to the ceiling, realizing what you had or rather had not on after checking you out. collecting your composure, you shot him a tight-lipped smile and stepped aside to let him in.

“come in, I just need to get dressed and do my makeup. you can wait inside.”

walking past you, the dark-haired man pretended to scratch his head to hide his red ears and quickly surveyed your room. “that’s…”, breaking off his sentence instantly when his voice cracked, he cleared his throat before trying again. “nice room.”

while kuroo tried not to have a mental breakdown and remember what he came here for, you picked up your disregarded clothes from earlier of the floor, being mindful of not to flash the man, and made your way to your wardrobe, chucking in your dirty laundry and scanning your variety of clothes to pick out the most flattering outfit for the party. “uh, yeah, thanks. so, uh, what did you want? ee would’ve seen each other at the party later anyway.”

but there was no answer, making you frown. just as you wanted to turn around, calling his name in confusion, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist loosely, causing you to choke out his name.

kuroo leaned his head down towards your neck, slowly inhaling the scent of your strawberry bodywash before sighing contently. his soft, plump lips slowly trailed up to your ear, creating goosebumps on their way, before lowly murmuring: “you smell delicious. i could eat you up.”

you could feel yourself shiver at the low timbre of his voice and the indication of his words, as your heart rate picked up to the point you had the feeling as though you were going to die right then and there. how did his demeanor change so suddenly? it seemed as if you were in a room with a completely different person.

the ex-captain smugly grinned as he felt your breath quicken and chest heave without him even doing much, tightening one arm around your waist, while his large hand on the other arm splayed itself on your stomach, slowly sliding down towards where you wanted him. “hm? can I do that baby?”

just as quickly as the thoughts of ‘stop, this is so wrong. what about alisa?’ appeared in your mind, they immediately disappeared with the sweet melody of kuroo calling you baby.

not being able to keep a little whine from slipping out at the pet name, you nodded, your cheeks unbearably hot. but that wasn’t enough for him. tetsurou wanted your verbal consent, even if his half-hard cock already slightly twitched at the small noise you let out without him even touching you properly, screaming at him to finally fuck you.

avoiding the area, you wanted him to touch the most, his hand grabbed your thigh, causing you to squeeze your legs together in search of relief. he tsked at your lack of words and lightly spanked your thigh before tightening his grip around the fat, earning him a surprised squeak from you. “no, use your big girl words baby. i want to hear it.”

the instant tetsurou startled you with the spank, you hurriedly grabbed onto his forearms, lightly digging your nails into the muscles. already, everything was getting too much. his smooth voice seducing you, his dominant touch jumbling up your brain, his urgent need to hear your consent, his pleasant scent of a mix of his cologne, mint and husk surrounding you. him, him, him. you wanted more. you needed more. the slick between your legs grew embarrassingly fast, smearing on the inside of your thighs, showing off kuroo’s effect on you evidently.

“please… please touch me tetsu', I need it”, you whimpered out impatiently, making him close his eyes to stop himself from cumming already, your needy voice going straight to his dick standing at full attention. and even though the menace in him wanted to tease you and hear you beg more; he knew that he didn’t have the willpower to deny himself of having you any longer.

as you felt the tall male finally place his hand underneath your towel and cup your pussy, your head rolled back onto his shoulder, giving him full access to your neck. while dragging his middle and index finger through your folds leisurely, his lips and tongue placed hungry kisses on your neck.

“fuck, angel, you’re soaking wet. Is that all because of me, hmm?”, he lowly murmured against your neck, while his fingers simultaneously slowly circled your clit. you couldn’t stop your eyes from lolling to the back of your head or the small whimper that left you, even though the ‘angel’ left a bitter taste in your mouth. as much as the pet name made your stomach all tingly, you always compared alisa to an angel, so it didn’t quite sit well to be called that by her own ex.

but as you felt his middle finger enter you, all thoughts flew out of your head. The only thing on your mind were the raspy praises against your neck and his finger moving at a torturous pace inside you.

“please tetsu', more, I need more”, you complained whiny, because as much as it was all overwhelming, it also wasn’t enough. kuroo could only grin at your eagerness, but couldn’t blame you, since his own patience was speedily wearing thin.

with an uttered ‘everything for you angel’, he added his index finger into the mix, curling the two digits and, not wasting a moment, pumping them into you at a rapid pace, eliciting a quiet moan out of you. the ex-captain noted that you weren’t much of a moaner and mentally made it a challenge to have you crying for him by the end of the night. so, without much warning, his long, thick fingers started hammering against your g-spot while his thumb circled your clit at the same time, making you squeeze your eyes shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream, your hands searching for stability on the closet in front of you.

“c’mon, y/n, baby, i know you want it, fucking give it to me. ‘been fantasizing about this so long, just wanna make you feel good and fall apart for me. show me how much of a good girl you are.” his smooth voice flowed into your ear, seducing you to fully give into him. you felt as if you were being lured by satan himself and you were just a weak little human, not nearly strong enough to resist the whisper of the devil.

with a series of soft, high-pitched moans, you came on his fingers without any warning, your legs giving out at the intensity of it all. tetsurou only tightened his arm around your waist, picking you up without any trouble, making you clench around nothing at his display of effortless strength as he withdrew his fingers from your dripping hole. you thought you heard a small ‘good girl’, but you couldn’t tell for sure with the way you were still floating on cloud nine after he brought you to your orgasm that quickly.

panting and shivering at the goosebumps erupting, you lifted your gaze up at him as he placed you on your bed, only to find him already staring at you with low lids and completely black eyes, the beautiful hazel color of his eyes lost in all the lust and desire that took over his expression.

refusing to break eye-contact, kuroo lifted his with your essence-soaked fingers to his plush lips, wrapping them around the digits and sucking lewdly at them. once again, you felt yourself clench around nothing, rubbing your thighs against each other to get some relief, when you saw his eyes roll back as he tasted you.

the next thing you knew, your back hit the bed with the broad man lying between your spread legs, making you yelp. you could feel the atmosphere around tetsurou change once again. he was a lot more feral than he was before, as if his patience were running out.

his biceps wrapped around your plush thighs, holding you in place since the feeling of his breath against your cunt made your hips twitch up at their own accord, exposing the strong want you had for the man between your legs.

“’m gonna fucking wreck you angel”, he growled against your slit, before diving right in, licking and sucking messily at your clit, your pussy lips, everywhere he could reach. and as much as it shouldn’t feel pleasurable with him being as aggressive as he was, it felt fucking heavenly. you couldn’t help but arch your back, hands flying down to tangle in his messy rooster hair and tugging at the surprisingly soft strands, causing him to moan hoarsely against your sensitive pussy, the vibrations only egging you on. something about kuroo tetsurou losing his usual provocative, teasing demeanor as he ate you out felt so raw and animalistic, that it made your head spin and toes curl.

his large hand crept up your torso and he finally removed the towel that barely hid your breasts from him before palming one, drawing a content sigh out of you at the attention. but as much as he enjoyed listening to you whine and sigh because of the pleasure he was causing you, he wanted, no, needed to hear how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him.

“tell me how it feels angel, tell me how good it feels. ‘wanna hear your pretty voice, baby”, he huskily mumbled against your clit, making you arch your back at the delicious vibrations echoing through your core. but as much as you enjoyed hearing his dirty talk, you felt insecure about yours not turning him on.

preparing yourself mentally as good as you managed with the way he ate you out like a man starved, you allowed yourself a glance down only to see him expectantly observing you. the erotic sight only coaxed another high-pitched whine out of you, your head lolling back against your pillow.

at the next harsh suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips thrusted up against his skilled tongue and you finally gave in to your desire of wanting to tell him how good he was making you feel. only him.

“fuck, tetsu', d-don’t stop. feels so good, you feel so good, only you, please, please, please”, you needily moaned while grinding your hips up, simultaneously pushing his head deeper into your pussy and if kuroo had any self-control left, it was definitely gone now.

his toned biceps tightened around your thighs. his large hands squeezed your breast and hip harshly, leaving bruises for you to discover tomorrow. his able tongue messily switched between being shoved deep inside you and swirling your clit and you could feel the bed shake with how forceful he was humping the bed just from eating you out and hearing you talk like that. every little thing contributed to your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. you were fairly sure you even blacked out for a few seconds because the next time you focused your attention back on tetsurou, he was frantically unbuttoning his jeans, with his shirt already off, whipping out his cock.

you felt your eyes widen as well as your pussy clench, you couldn’t remember the last time you were this horny, but you also weren’t sure how the fuck you were supposed to fit a cock this big and girthy inside you. meanwhile kuroo took off his boxers and contently sighed as he finally started stroking himself, giving himself some relief but it wasn’t enough. not by a long shot.

zoning in on your face once again - sweaty, low lidded eyes, blown out pupils- the impatient boy leaned down and kissed you for the first time that evening. after everything that just transpired between you two, the kiss definitely felt the most intimate, but it was also what you were craving the most from tetsurou for months now.

you didn’t know how to possibly express all the emotions you were currently overwhelmed with, so you tried to translate it all through the kiss. kissing back harder, all teeth and tongue, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, pressing your thighs against his hips, hoping it was enough to convey what you wanted to say.

apparently, it was, because you could hear kuroo lowly growl against your lips before starting to dig his fingers into your hips and grind against you, finally letting you feel him where you needed him the most.

“n-not enough, tetsu'”, you eagerly whined, raising your hips, hoping it was enough to convince him to finally fuck you like you craved him to. but as thin as his patience was at the moment, kuroo tetsurou would not be kuroo tetsurou without his teasing antics.

he slyly grinned, pressing feather-light kisses down from your lips to your throat, making his way to your breasts, where he teasingly kitten-licked your nipples a few times, letting you think you were finally getting what you wanted before he raised his head and stared you down with his almost pitch-black eyes. “mmm, I know you can do better than that kitten”, he gruffly remarked while continuing to grind against you slowly, making you jerk and mewl every time you felt the head of his cock bump against your clit. “what do you want me to do, baby?”

how he still had it in him to tease and deny you, was beyond you, because you were on the edge of breaking down from how bad you wanted him. “’want you to fuck me, tetsu'”, you confidently said while gazing into his eyes, or at least, you tried to sound confident, but you were only able to whine and moan at this point.

kuroo closed his eyes and felt himself twitch against your pussy. you were going to be the death of him. sitting back up on his knees, he grabbed his cock and lined it up with your entrance, making you spread your legs automatically wider at the sight.

with one sharp snap of his hips, you both groaned simultaneously, your groan high-pitched, his low and guttural, at the feeling you’ve both been craving for. “fuck, you’re on birth control, right?”, he asked, straining himself as to not just start pounding you into oblivion or cum right on the spot.

“yes, shit”, you breathlessly answered, putting your hands against his toned abdomen as to let him know to wait, which only made him clench his abs at the feeling of your soft hands on his exposed skin. “j-just give me a sec, need a moment”, you murmured avoiding eye contact, suddenly shy at the fact that you were just lying there with kuroo balls deep inside you.

sensing your mood shift, the tall male grinned his cheshire-grin at you and teasingly remarked: “why? am i too big for you, huh?”, hoping it’d make you laugh and relax a bit, soon realizing that the idea completely back-fired on him.

as you started to laugh at his arrogant remark, hitting his abs slightly and telling him to shut up, your core clenched in-sync with your laughter, making you freeze at the sudden loud, almost pornographic moan escaping tetsurou’s lips.

looking up at him, you finally realized how much he was holding back as to not hurt you or make you uncomfortable. the handsome boys’ wild hair was already sticking to the sweat forming on his forehead, his jaw clenched painfully, nostrils flaring, eyebrows furrowed, biceps bulging with how hard he was gripping the sheets beside your hips to restrain himself. the thought of him wanting to fuck you so bad but holding back for your pleasure and well-being, was enough to make you clench down on him again, rolling your hips up against his and declaring: “’m ready, tetsu'. please, f-fuck me”.

with your words and the grinding of your hips, kuroo really couldn’t hold back the little stutter his hips did against yours but fuck, was he embarrassed by it. he felt like a teenager, touching real boobs for the first time all over again, knowing he wouldn’t last long. not with how long he had fantasized about this and with how you reacted to his every move and touch, squeezing him so tight, he felt like he wouldn’t even be able to move.

“’m gonna break you”, and with those final words, his large, veiny hands gripped your hips in a bruising, vice grip, pulling out so only his tip was inside your messy, drooling cunt, before snapping right back in, making you choke on your breath at the impact.

as much as kuroo wanted to bust inside you right then and there, the strong urge to see you lose yourself on his cock while he ruined every other man for you was much more prominent. so, the ex-captain rutted in your pussy like his life depended on it, wanting your moans and mewls and whines to never stop. there was so much that was running through his head while being empty at the same time. the only thought was to bring you both to earth-shattering orgasms, but he also wanted to spit in your mouth, choke you, spank your thighs and ass till you wouldn’t be able to sit tomorrow. he wanted to come on your thighs, your tits, face, but he also wanted to breed you.

you two were definitely way too young for children but he couldn’t get the mental image of you, stuffed with his cum with it running down your legs out of his mind, only making it harder for him not to cum immediately.

but you weren’t doing better either. the pace that kuroo was fucking you at, had you seeing stars, riding you up higher on the bed with every thrust and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. you gripped the sheets, his hands, his forearms, your breasts, anything, to try to stabilize yourself as you approached your high embarrassingly fast without your clit even being touched.

just as the thought crossed your mind, you felt tetsus’ calloused fingertips, from years of playing volleyball, circle your clit, causing you to throw your head back with your lips open in a silent scream.

“fuck, you’re so fucking tight kitten, so much better than i ever imagined. cum for me, wanna feel you cream on my fat cock, wanna see you lose your mind baby, give it to me”. at this point, he basically started rambling on about how hot and tight you were, how he wanted you to cum around his cock so badly, how you were gonna make him cum so hard, how you were making such a mess for him, what a good girl you were.

just as you felt yourself almost falling over the edge at the added stimulus to your clit and the filthy praises that were coming out of his mouth, you yanked the boy down by his arm, wrapping your arms around him firmly and kissing him so hard, you were sure you both would have bruised lips later.

with the new position and the intimacy of being pressed up against each other, one more thrust, and you were gone. cumming around his cock so hard, you couldn’t remember the last time someone made you cum that hard, if ever.

the pornographic moans of his name along with some ‘fuck’s and ‘so good’s, the jerking of your body against his and the vice-grip of your pussy on his dick as you came. it was all too much for the poor boy who didn’t even cum once the whole time, while you already had three orgasms under your belt. the last straw was your quiet, little ‘cum inside tetsu', want you to fill me up’ and so, a few short, sloppy thrusts later, kuroo buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly as he came inside, spurting hot, white cum against your abused walls.

the feeling of being filled up to the hilt by kuroo tetsurou was intoxicating. you whined, wrapping your legs around his hips, caging him in so he couldn’t pull out, not wanting the moment to end.

you both lied there, trying to catch your breath. as he pulled out after a few moments and got up to go grab a towel to clean you up, your hand caught his. “don’t go, where are you going?”, you whined needily, wanting to cuddle, to worn-out to care about the mess gushing out of your hole onto the bed sheets.

chuckling, the tall boy leaned down, kissing your forehead: “’m not going anywhere angel, I’m just gonna grab a towel and clean you up”. with that he retreated to the bathroom in search of a towel to use.

you, on the other hand, suddenly sobered up from your drunk-on-lust high at the pet name, making you realize what you just did. fuck, you just banged alisa’s ex-boyfriend. they weren’t even broken off for that long and you already betrayed her.

feeling like a bad friend and complete whore, you didn’t even register said ex-boyfriend was back, making you flinch at the sudden contact of your sensitive pussy with the wet, rough towel.

“relax baby, it’s just me”, he teasingly chuckled, while cleaning you up. when he didn’t hear you chuckle or bite back at his teasing, his expression morphed into a frown, lifting his gaze from your core to your face. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, thanks.” but of course, you were lying. the panic that slowly settled in your chest was threatening to suffocate you. hell, you weren’t even able to look at him properly.

you felt kuroo grab your chin with his fingers gently, turning your head so you had to look at him. tetsurou was completely serious, he only hoped you weren’t regretting what just transpired between you two, as he repeated: “what’s. wrong?”, emphasizing those two words so you knew there was no point in lying.

feeling your eyes water up, you cursed yourself for showing weakness, since you weren’t one to cry often, especially in front of other people. “what are we going to tell alisa?”

that caught him off guard. “alisa?”, he repeated questioningly, as if he didn’t know what you meant. how could he not know? was he that stupid?

you sat up, rubbing at your eyes frantically with the rising anger inside your chest. “yeah, alisa. your ex. the one that’s like a sister to me. how am I supposed to look her in the eyes after what we just did?”

kuroo wasn’t stupid. you could vouch for that any day. you saw him in your lecture, and you had studied a lot with him, but right now, you were sure he was the dumbest person you ever knew, even beating lev. because even after explaining, he still only looked at you with a confused gaze, saying: “i don’t quite follow?”

groaning, you ran your hands through your hair in frustration, declaring: “you’re really smart, but you’re being so fucking dumb right now. how the fuck am I supposed to talk to one of my closest friends after I fucked her ex-boyfriend, who she loved by the way, not even that long after they broke up?”

finally, it clicked in kuroo’s brain. but the last thing you expected, was to hear him laugh. your head snapped up at the sound, glaring at him you almost growled: “what the fuck’s so funny, you fucking bedhead?”

“oh wow, throwing in the insults huh?”, he said between chuckles. “it’s funny because alisa was the one who encouraged me to come here tonight, though I don’t think she wanted us to outright fuck but, you know.”

what now?

“what do you mean she encouraged you to come here?”, you interrogated perplexed. suddenly he was acting all shy and sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with his big hand, avoiding your eyes.

“well… we’re still friends, so we were talking about our lectures a week ago and she suddenly mentioned how you also were a fan of 'pride and rejudice'. i just… got kinda excited at that, since alisa wasn’t really interested in things like that, so i started asking her about it. she then called me out on my crush on you, saying she already knows why i was so distracted the weeks leading up to our break-up, thinking about you.”

while listening, your anger slowly morphed into nervousness at kuroo openly admitting he also had a crush on you, but you wanted him to finish his story before addressing the elephant in the room.

“i apologized immediately, thinking she was angry at me, but you know her. she was so sweet, saying she would only be happier if it worked out between us. after, she tried to set us up to talk to each other, but you avoided me like the plague, so she told me to come here before the party since you were running late, to confront you and settle it once and for all but uh…”, he sheepishly smiled, “i kinda got distracted when you opened the door in only a towel, so… that didn’t go as planned.”

sitting with your mouth agape in a ‘o’, your brain tried to process all the information, not knowing what to say to his confession and explanation.

“soooo… she’s not gonna hate me and cancel our friendship?”, you carefully pressed, just to be sure. “no, I don’t think she will”, he chortled.

“oh.”

with that, the room was suddenly extremely silent, making you and kuroo even more nervous. clearing his throat, he couldn’t take the silence anymore. “are you gonna give me an answer to my confession, or am I like, totally embarrassing myself right now?”

“uh, no, yeah”, you softly giggled at his obvious anxiousness. taking his face between your hands, you looked right into his hazel eyes in the dim lighting, before gently smiling at him.

“i like you too, nerd.”

bonus:

the next morning, you woke up to your phone aggressively vibrating on your nightstand beside your bed. you blindly reached out, picking up the call without even opening your eyes, clearly still half-asleep.

“hello?”, you groggily asked your caller, wondering who the fuck was calling you this early, when lev’s voice filled your ear. “y/n? hey, we we’re worried about you yesterday. why didn’t you show up? it was so much fun”, the big, over-grown baby whined.

looking down at the reason you weren’t able to attend the party sleeping soundly with his head on your chest, you smiled, carding your fingers softly through his raven-black hair.

“just… reasons”.

747 notes · View notes

dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #tony stark & reader #steve rogers angst #angst #implied cheating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Note

so... could you write some more adrien/chat salt? your fics and posts salting on him are always so good 🥺

Thank you! And of course~

—————

Ladybug had considered what to say multiple times over the day she'd had to think about it. She'd thought about all the different ways she could've said it, and what would've been the most effective when who she was talking to was taken into account.

However, sitting there on the rooftops with Chat Noir, there was a point where she just had to say it, no matter how it came out.

"Give me your miraculous."

Chat jerked his head over to her, jarred from the silence and eyes wide as his brain seemed to process the statement. Ladybug, meanwhile, stared ahead at the night sky, as if she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary.

After a few more seconds, she got a reply in the form of laughter, Chat buckling over with a hand on his stomach. "That's quite the Hawk Moth impression, Bugaboo!" he exclaimed, though calming himself enough to give her a half-lidded gaze and add, "But you don't have to do that to impress me, you know."

She didn't reply, only turning to look at him with her expression entirely flat, not showing any reaction to the mixture of teasing and flirting.

He was still grinning for a while, but as the silence dragged on, he began to falter. "...Ah—" He shook his head, leaning towards her and trying to force a smirk. "—if you want a wish that badly, all you need to do is say the word, m'lady! I can grant all your wishes."

She remained stoic, maintaining eye contact with him but not encouraging his banter. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as it became clear to him that she was very much not joking.

One of Chat's ears twitched in confusion. He leaned back to his normal distance from her, seeming at a loss for what to say now that the atmosphere was finally registering with him.

Ladybug took a breath, noting that she had his attention. She straightened and looked back over Paris, saying, "I can't do this anymore."

He followed her gaze, squinting as if the answer would be written out there in bold letters for him. "Being a hero?"

"No, us. Us being partners." While he gaped at her, she stared down at her lap, her hands clutching her thighs as if that would give her some sense of stability. "...Chat, do you think this is a game?"

Chat shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not having expected the conversation to go here. It was hard to tell whether he was trying to keep things light or if it was just his genuine reply when he responded, "W-well, I'm definitely in it to win if that's what you mean—"

"I talked to Xavier Ramier today."

She watched his expression carefully, his hand leaving his neck and hovering awkwardly in the air as he looked at her. He seemed puzzled, not knowing what this had to do with the conversation, though his brows rose briefly like he'd remembered something.

She continued, trying not to show too much in her reaction as she explained, "Since I'm not as busy right now, I thought I'd check in on some of the people who got akumatized but I didn't have time for earlier. He was one of them." Idly, she pulled out her yoyo, almost mindlessly tapping away at it as she navigated through the various menus. "He said you came by to check on him a while ago; said that you were sitting there, just enjoying the day with him. He told me that you asked him if he missed being Mister Pigeon, or if he was feeling any negative emotions."

"I—" Chat tried to interject.

She didn't hear him, too focused on telling the story. "Then I asked him when you showed up, and he didn't know exactly when, but..." She showed him her yoyo, the messages Chat had sent clearly being timestamped for reference. "I figured out from what his rough guess and asking around that it was when you were supposed to be on patrol."

"I was on patrol!" Chat protested. "I was just checking up on him."

"You were relaxing on a bench," Ladybug reminded him., her tone remaining consistently flat. Snapping her yoyo shut and returning it to her hip, she added, "I even asked around and people told me they saw you go into the Grand Paris Hotel. I heard from one of the butlers there that you were sulking, and got excited when you saw Chloe and Sabrina fighting."

He opened his mouth to explain himself, but she could tell that he was struggling to come up with an excuse; he honestly believed that she'd never find out about any of this.

"I trusted you, Chat. I trusted you to cover for me when I'm not there, no matter what." She needed to swallow back her emotions for that one. "Why would you do that? Why would you hope for akuma to happen? Why would you lie to me?"

"I didn't!" Chat insisted, waving his arms frantically. "I—see... it was an off day! I was just—you know I can always do my best around you, and I did patrol! I just... made a few stops along the way! I wouldn't lie to you!"

"So you don't lie to me," she stated cautiously, "and you've never lied against me."

"Of course not!" he assured.

She paused for effect, just long enough for him to grow uneasy, then said, "Theo Barbot waved me down a while back."

Chat visibly cringed, and she could hear a hissing sound as he sucked in a breath.

"He wanted to congratulate me. He saw the picture of us kissing on the Ladyblog and said that he was glad we could finally go public about our relationship." Her gaze sharpened even as she stared at nothing in particular. "I asked what he meant, and he told me that you said that we were a thing. He said that that's what got him akumatized."

"It wasn't..." He averted his gaze. "...a lie exactly."

In response, Ladybug stood, throwing her arms outwards as emotion began to seep into her voice. "This is about more than lies, Chat; it's about everything! If you can only do your best around me, then what happens if an akuma gets me?" She didn't need him to answer. "You'll lose it. I need someone who I know will take care of things even if I'm captured."

"I would!" Chat retorted he stood up, the nervousness now showing on his face. "I would do everything to get you back, I—"

"Party Crasher," she cut in without missing a beat.

He recoiled like she'd physically struck him.

"And it's not just that I can't rely on you if I'm taken out; I can't rely on you not to take yourself out," she said pointedly, turning away from him and taking a few steps away to distance herself. "You're always throwing yourself in front of me and sacrificing yourself, sometimes when you don't even have to and always without just talking to me about it! Do you have any idea how that feels? You tell me all the time that you'll listen to me and how I'm the planner here, and then you go and make plans without me."

She heard Chat's hurried footsteps from behind her as he tried to match her pace and argue, "It's not like that! It's just—it's because..."

She turned just as he reached her, her stern gaze making him stop. "Because my anger is so irresistible?" she asked. "I'm just so adorable when I'm mad that you won't listen to me?" She advanced on him, forcing him back. "Thanks, Chat, that makes me feel so much better that you can't take me seriously because you just love me that much," she said sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant!" he argued, though at that point it seemed like all he could do was weakly protest that he didn't mean anything that way. "I'm only teasing, Bugaboo!"

"Then what do you really mean?" She clenched her fists at her side. "I've told you to stop calling me Bugaboo and you never do! You're too busy bantering and talking about our relationship to focus on the fight, and when that kiss happened - the one that happened because you got shot by Oblivio and I had to save you - you laughed at me for being upset and you didn't care. I'm tired of having to deal with all of that; I'm dealing with enough as guardian!" Reminded of her own status, she steeled herself up and held a hand out to him, managing to calm down enough to say, "Now, revoke your miraculous. I'll give it to someone else."

Chat retreated, his hand moving to cover his ring protectively. The nervousness had partially faded away into him being generally upset, though he also didn't try to defend his actions anymore. "You... if you give the ring to someone else, you'll know their identity!"

"I've already got a plan for that," Ladybug stated, holding her hand out more insistently.

Because of course she did. She wouldn't have been doing any of this if she hadn't given it a lot of thought first. There were pros and cons to bringing in a new cat, and when she really weighed it all together, this was the only way forward. Chat wouldn't learn, and she'd been stuck in a limbo of shouting at him, being ignored, and having to push down her feelings in the future or risk damaging their teamwork. She'd devalued herself - devalued her emotions - in order to believe that she could make it work because she needed him.

Except, she didn't. She needed a cat; someone to use the more active miraculous to balance out the lack of firepower that the ladybug miraculous had. It wasn't that it could be just anyone, but it certainly didn't have to be Chat. While she deeply regretted going back on one of Master Fu's decisions when he couldn't even have a say in it anymore, the fact of the matter was that she was the guardian and she made the rules.

Chat backed away a few more steps, his eyes darting around as he sought a way out of the situation. Then, facing Ladybug, a mixture of upset and offended, he argued, "We're a team! We still come out fine no matter what happened! You don't even know my identity, I've kept it a secret just like you wanted!"

He was reaching, and they both knew it. That had always been the reason for revoking someone's miraculous: someone else knowing their identity. However, there were reasons beyond that, and them "coming out fine" from a battle was hardly a high bar for someone getting to keep theirs. Ladybug knew that well enough after having dealt with Miracle Queen; even if Chloe's identity hadn't been revealed, she was still a bad person who felt entitled to a miraculous.

But Ladybug also understood the game Chat was playing at: that it wouldn't be right to take his miraculous when he's protected his identity. The logic was flawed, but she nonetheless crossed her arms and gave him a blank look, staring into his green cat eyes and starting to fit pieces of a metaphorical puzzle together.

Kung Food, Horrificator, and Startrain: those at minimum were times where Chat's civilian form had to have been inside at the time the akuma happened. Chat had also mistaken Francoise Dupont for an elementary school after they'd defeated Kwamibuster, but she mentally acknowledged that he could've been lying. He had to have been, if they were trapped in that building together with Horrificator. It narrowed things down significantly, and she knew that he had to have been a teenager like her due to the timer on his miraculous.

And while she was aware that Chat's green eyes meant nothing considering that she got green eyes as Lady Noire, there were little coincidences sprinkled throughout their history together that didn't add up unless she came to one final conclusion.

Chat showing up at the museum even though he'd have no way of knowing that an akuma could've been there. Chat knowing that Volpina's illusion was fake. Chat's mysterious loss of his miraculous when Style Queen was attacking.

The feather allergy.

Then, Ladybug glanced at the hand he was covering; the one she knew had the cat miraculous on his right ring finger. She almost felt like congratulating herself for constantly resisting the temptation, because when she actually thought about it, it was so obvious.

She knew that hand, as she'd seen it so many times. She had pictures of it plastered all over her wall and the realization made her feel sick, her heart dropping as opposed to skipping a beat.

"...Adrien Agreste," she said finally. "You're Adrien Agreste."

He blinked, his expression blank at first before dread started to take its place. His mouth slowly fell open, words trying to escape but there weren't any to be found.

She let the moment drag, stepping forward to close the distance between them. Adrien's face flashed over Chat Noir's for a moment and she swallowed, summoning all of her confidence to address him properly.

"Tell me, Adrien. Tell me that this hasn't been a game for you. Tell me that you wanted to protect Paris all this time. Tell me that this hasn't all been about you."

She waited, not expecting or hoping for any answer in particular, because it no longer mattered; the conclusion would the same regardless.

Ultimately, she got no reply, and within the next ten minutes, the cat miraculous was in her hands and Adrien was promptly taken home.

—————

Marinette took a breath of the cool night air, having chosen to walk home rather than get there as Ladybug. She needed time to think, and walking helped her clear her head from the rush of everything that'd happened.

Her purse rustled, Tikki popping out and leaning off the side to look up at her. "Is everything okay, Marinette?"

"Yeah." She nodded her head, just to reassure Tikki further. "It was for the best. It's a lot, but... I wanted to do it; for me, and for Paris."

Regardless of how many emotions she had to deal with, she was glad she knew. She supposed that she could've taken Chat's miraculous without seeing his identity - though it would've been complicated - but it helped her sort through so many thoughts in her mind.

She let out half of a chuckle, idly thinking that she dodged a bullet. If dating Adrien would've turned him into any level of Chat Noir - or, honestly, just knowing that he was Chat Noir - then it was definitely for the best that she figured out his identity. She wasn't sure how she'd behave around him the following days, but just the idea of things being any semblance of "normal" in the face of "the famous model Adrien Agreste," with no stutters or freak-outs...

It was nice, making everything feel a little brighter. Maybe Alya would even stop claiming that she's just "jealous" of Lila, the girls would stop teasing her so much, and she could put all that time she used to spend thinking about Adrien into something more productive. There hadn't seemed to be a downside in sight, actually.

As Marinette kept thinking on the subject, her gaze wandered off to the side, taking in the sights around her, and she paused when she noticed that she was right next to the Seine. The revelation didn't surprise her - she knew she'd have to pass by it to get home - but it did inevitably remind her of Luka, especially since they'd broken up only a day ago.

The metaphorical wound was still fresh, not helped by the fact that Lies had come right afterward as if to remind her of why she had to break up with him; she couldn't have a normal life, and she certainly couldn't have a boyfriend. It didn't matter if she loved Luka and he loved her back, because she would always have to leave their dates at the first sign of an akuma.

Yet, nevertheless, there was some form of comfort in staring out at the river, and she found herself traveling down the nearest set of stairs to walk right next to the Seine instead of so far above it, her eyes trailing along the surface of the water to search for the Liberty.

It took a few minutes of walking, almost making her wonder if she'd passed it without realizing, but then she saw the ship resting in the water, right where it always was. She approached, taking in the various colors and the silly rainbow weathervane, her body automatically relaxing at the memories of those two weeks of crafting kittycorn-themed costumes from paper mache.

Curiously, she noticed that the gangplank was up, as someone presumably had forgotten to pull it back before going to bed that night. Marinette walked over, crouching down and wondering idly if it was possible that it had been put up but had just fallen over at some point, yet it was clearly set perfectly in place.

Mentally trashing the thought, she placed her hands on her knees and started getting up. As she straightened her back, her eyes involuntarily scanned over the deck of the ship, a familiar color palette of blues, blacks, and whites registering in her mind before she fully recognized what—who it was. Her eyes locked onto the figure, and she had to slap a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from letting out a yelp.

It was Luka, sitting down on an instrument case with his guitar in his lap, though Marinette noted after a moment that he was actually asleep. Concern furrowed her brows as she took in his posture, one of his arms resting on the case while the other was perched on the guitar's base. His back was arched against the taffrail of the ship and his head was tilted back to the point where his hair was falling into his face.

There was no way that was comfortable.

Marinette hesitated, feeling almost like she was trespassing, then gave Tikki a look to hide inside the purse while she walked across the gangplank Any footsteps against the deck of the ship seemed unusually loud due to the otherwise quiet night, but Marinette tried to ignore it, approaching Luka cautiously so as not to startle him.

He was frowning, and she involuntarily copied the expression onto her own face. Outside of the bumps in their dates and the break-up itself, it was rare to see him as anything but calm or happy, and she got the distinct feeling that it wasn't just because he was asleep that he was making that face.

She reached up, lightly fixing his hair in case to try and keep it out of his eyes when he woke up, then lowered her hand to his shoulder. She gave him a light shake, then another with a little more effort when the first failed to stir him. When that failed as well, she leaned close, looking side to side like she was afraid someone would see her and think she was doing something strange. However, no one else was around, allowing her to safely whisper his name to him.

"Luka."

She stiffened when she got an immediate response to that, Luka letting out a low humming noise as he shifted. She jolted back, trying to give him space and blushing at the thought that shaking hadn't woken him in the slightest but her voice had immediately.

Luka's eyes opened halfway, staring blankly up at the sky. Brows lowering in confusion, he tried to move, though a whine escaped him when his body protested at the uncomfortable position he'd gotten himself into. He winced, but eased forward and leaned on his guitar for support, only then looking forward and meeting her gaze.

She shifted in place, feeling awkward but knowing that it was too late to back out now.

"...Mmmarinette?" he asked, squinting like he wasn't really sure she was there. He blinked a few times, his eyes widening a fraction when he confirmed that she was real. "Marinette?"

"Ah—hi," she replied, waving awkwardly. "Um, sorry, it was just—I was walking, and I saw you, and you were sleeping weird—not that you sleeping is weird or you look weird when you sleep!—but you seemed really uncomfortable so I just..." She gestured vaguely at his current state of awareness.

He let out a tired sound that may've been an "oh," then ran his fingers into his hair and rustled it, like he was attempting to shake the tiredness out of himself. That done, he managed a small smile at her that didn't stretch anywhere near the amount it usually would. "Thank you. I'm glad you care about me that much."

"Of course I do!" she blurted out, a little offended at the idea that she wouldn't. She realized belatedly how loud she'd been and rubbed an arm in embarrassment, but didn't take anything back either.

Deep down, she knew where he was coming from. It must've been hard for him to watch her ditch him and then deal with her ending their relationship with next to no explanation. Even with the confidence he constantly radiated, not having any information on the 'how's or 'why's must've been difficult, and she hated keeping secrets from him.

Even Chat got better than that...

Luka tilted his head at her, the anxiety probably written all across her face. Concerned, he began to ask, "...Is everything—"

"Luka," she called suddenly, straightening to face him fully. "I—" She swallowed, needing a few seconds to compose herself. "I know this is a bad time, because I'm not really supposed to be here, and you can say 'no,' but... can we talk? About what happened?"

She bit her lip nervously as he sat up, his body noticeably more awake than before. She felt like he deserved to know more about the whole situation, but he also had every right to refuse her for waiting - even if it wasn't that long ago - so the possibilities were nerve-wracking.

Thankfully though, Luka relaxed after a moment, lifting his guitar out of his lap to set it aside, the bottom of the body resting on the deck of the Liberty while the neck was supported by the taffrail. Settling his hands in his lap, he then gave her his full attention, even offering a soft look of reassurance.

Her shoulders eased; he was going to hear her out. Part of her almost felt bad, wondering if maybe he was forcing himself, but she also knew it was important for him to get closure on the matter.

"Okay..." She breathed, acknowledging to herself that she hadn't planned this is the slightest. After some internal debate, she sat down on the deck of the Liberty in lieu of a proper seat, earning a look from Luka but no further comment otherwise. Running her hands along her capris, she stared up at him and finally began, "It—it wasn't you."

He raised a brow, silently encouraging her to go on.

"I mean, maybe you weren't worried about that, but I just... I needed you to know that." She shrugged half-heartedly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Luka - you're amazing - and if it wasn't for me always having to leave and rush off and make you feel bad, I would've stayed with you."

"...Really?"

She blinked at his tone, the corners of her lips quirking up as he covered his mouth, clearly not having intended to blurt that out. She simply nodded at him, falling back into her serious state as she continued, "You deserve someone who can be dedicated to you, and I just—I can't, and I can't tell you why either." She slumped, ashamed at the secret she was forced to keep. "I wish I could. I do trust you, but it's not about that. It's—" She pursed her lips, struggling to find the right words. "—it's not really something I can say?"

She dropped her gaze to her lap, but didn't miss the flicker of understanding in his eyes. It was important to her, for him to know that she believed in him and that he'd done everything right in their relationship.

"...Are—" Luka paused, voice laced with worry. "Marinette, are you being blackmailed or something?"

She almost laughed at that. His deduction wasn't entirely wrong, as "go defend Paris from a supervillain and tell no one about it, and if you do then they might be in danger," certainly did sound like blackmail. Still, she shook her head, reassuring, "It's nothing like that. I'm sorry. I really want to tell you, a-and even be with you, but I can't do either." She clutched at her knees in an attempt to ground herself, glancing back up at him with a mixture of sorrow and guilt. "I don't know what you see in me, Luka, but I feel so lucky that you like me so much, and then unlucky because—" She choked briefly, her cheeks heating up as she realized that she'd never said the exact words to him before. "—because I like you too and I want it to be that simple but it's not. You want the truth and the truth is that I can't tell you no matter how much I want to. I know I forget things and had to skip out on dates because I was so stressed out, but you made everything fun and not stressful and I loved every date we went on until... you know." She gestured wildly to imply 'unsaid things happening.'

He was quiet, not showing any particular reaction, though she'd spent enough time with him to know that he was glad that she was talking more openly about it and clearing some things up that he might've been wondering about. His expression seemed blank on the surface but he was relieved to know something even if her words were pulling his emotions in every direction.

Mentally preparing herself for the next step, Marinette pushed herself up and walked over to him, finding it hard to meet Luka's gaze even as she hunched over and boldly placed her hands on top of his. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see his eyes searching her face, not knowing what to expect next.

"...I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know I apologized already but I'm sorry. I should've known things would end up like this but I wanted to date you anyway. I can't even tell you when this is all going to end so I can't ask you to wait for me either because it's not fair. You deserve a relationship that isn't so complicated... that doesn't involve me."

She flinched at the emotional punch to the gut she'd just given herself. She'd already known that dating would be near-impossible so long as she was Ladybug, but it was a completely different feeling to face Luka and say it to his face. She wasn't sure if she'd been his first crush, but the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth that it'd all gone so wrong and there was no hope of getting it back.

She took another breath to calm herself, slowly raising her hands away from his. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say," she murmured, still not making eye contact with him. "Thanks for trying to show me a good time, Luka, but... maybe you should fall in love with someone else."

She turned away before her emotions could get the better of her, about to walk off when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist and jerked her back. She squeaked in surprise, glancing behind her to see that Luka was on the edge of the instrument case, arm stretched out like he'd impulsively hurried to stop her. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he spoke first.

"Why?"

"W...why?" she echoed.

"Why should I fall for someone else?" he asked, his tone somewhere between hurt and serious.

"Ah." She tilted her head, confused and with no idea of what he was getting at. "Because of everything I said?"

"That you enjoyed our dates? That it wasn't us who cut the song short?" His other hand reached up, holding her hand as well while he looked at her tenderly. His voice grew quiet, like he couldn't believe what he was saying. "That you like me?"

Marinette blushed, but found it hard to look away from him this time. "I...I do like you. Um—only you, but—Luka, the dates..."

Luka slowly stood up, gently squeezing her hand in a show of support. "I didn't even think that I'd be taking up too much of your time, Marinette. I wanted to be together with you, but I didn't want it to be hard either." He offered her a lopsided smile, adding, "And I'm glad you told me, because I don't think you being busy means we can't be together."

"...What?" Marinette gaped at him in disbelief. "I thought you said that you wanted the truth, and—"

"You gave it to me," he reminded her. "You said you can't tell me and I believe you."

She waved her free hand wildly. "Y-yeah, and I'll have to run off and we'll never know when!"

"Then we don't have to date, or we don't have to date as much." He'd said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, and maybe it was. "Why should we be playing sad solos when we can play a happy duet instead?"

She went to retort, but he'd so swiftly shot down her arguments that she was left speechless. She hadn't even considered that - trying to compromise with him on their dates - because she thought she wouldn't be worth it for him, yet here he was, offering himself to her again now that everything had been laid out for him. It seemed too good to be true, but...

He was her Second Chance, and every moment she spent with him just reaffirmed why she'd adored being given that chance in the first place.

She made a small noise as she tried to hold back emotion, her hand shaking in his. "You want me that much?"

His smile grew wider and more genuine, clearly recognizing that she was about to accept him. "Yeah. Do you want me too?"

Afraid her voice might crack and ruin the moment, she nodded and turned fully towards him. She held out her other hand for him and he took it happily, both of them able to enjoy each other's company once more.

Once things had properly settled down, she held back a shy giggle and asked, "S-so, do we just... pick up where we left off? Or just—before everything started going wrong?"

He hummed, seeming to honestly think about it. "I guess so. What verse do you want to start from?"

She retraced all of the bad dates in her mind, like she were rewinding a movie. One moment in particular stuck out to her, and she tried not to grin too much as she suggested, "The cinema? After I gave you the necklace?"

She didn't have to clarify any further, his eyes lighting up in remembrance. He grinned and leaned down to be closer to her level, her getting up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway in a kiss, thus finishing what they'd started from what felt like forever ago. She could feel Luka's hands caressing hers, as if to reassure that everything was alright and he was happy.

She waited until the kiss broke apart, then looked at him to ask teasingly, "Better than setting up a whole date to do that?"

He pressed his forehead to hers, sighing happily. "Definitely."

She beamed at him, almost tempted to kiss him again before she remembered what time it was. She gasped, inadvertently surprising him with the sound, then recoiled and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, sitting him back down on the instrument case.

"You need to sleep!" she told him, then corrected a second later, "But—not here! Not right here anyway! It needs to be in a bed! Your bed!"

He laughed at the abrupt shift in tone, but nodded obediently at her, resting his fingers along her wrists. "I will. You'll sleep too, right?"

She nodded back, her heart skipping a beat at his care for her. "Yeah, I promise."

Her hands lingered on him, as did his with her as she pulled away from him. As much as she would've liked to stay with him, it was late and she still had a lot to take care of.

Rushing across the gangplank, she waited until she was safely on the other side so she wouldn't risk tripping as she turned to face him, walking backward and waving excitedly. "Bye, Luka!"

He suppressed a chuckle at the happiness-induced loudness of her voice, then waved back at her. It was only when he got up to take his guitar inside that she finally turned around and started officially heading home.

—————

When the last of the Adrien photos had been shoved into her trash bin - even the ones on her corkboard - Marinette allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief and collapse into her chair. It'd taken a little longer than she'd thought, but she was still satisfied with the change. The walk home and conversation with Luka had brought all of her thoughts together and made her feel optimistic about how the day had gone.

"Marinette?" Tikki looked up from the chocolate chip she'd been nibbling on, her being the only kwami awake at that hour. Voicing the inevitable, she asked, "What are you going to do about the cat miraculous?"

Marinette turned, acknowledging her, then reached into her purse to pull out the ring in question, turning it a few times in her hands. It was weird having it in her possession while she still had the ladybug earrings on, but it wouldn't stick around for long anyway, so she wasn't concerned.

Tikki continued, an urgency in her voice, "You're Ladybug, and you're not supposed to know anyone's identities, but you're also the guardian now, so you're supposed to give out miraculouses and know everyone's identities!"

Marinette, much to Tikki's apparent surprise, flashed her a smile and held the ring up confidently. "That's exactly why you're going to pick the next cat, Tikki."

Tikki blanked, dropping the chocolate chip in shock. "Wh—me?" Her voice squeaked. "Why me?"

Marinette would be lying if she said that she didn't find some amusement in Tikki's befuddlement. With a bit of effort, she pushed herself up from her seat, setting the ring down on the table and walking towards the sink at the other side of the room. "Because you've been with every ladybug who's ever existed, which means that you've known every ladybug and cat duo that's ever existed." Giving Tikki an expectant look, she added, "If anyone knows what kind of cat I'd need as a partner, it's you."

"But—" Tikki floundered, the thought clearly having never occurred to her. "It's the guardian who has to hand out miraculouses!"

"I won't know the new cat's identity this way," Marinette reminded her, idly tracing her fingertips along the sink's edge. "Sure, it'll be someone we both know, but if I didn't figure out that Adrien is Chat Noir until I tried, then I won't figure out this one either."

Her eyes scanned over the various drawers in her reach and she pulled open one in particular, a small box jerking forward from the momentum. It was the same box that held her ladybug earrings all those months ago, and now it would be the box for the new cat as well.

Holding the box to her chest and silently wishing luck upon it, Marinette returned to her table to see Tikki staring quietly at the ring in thought, apparently still processing what she'd been told. Marinette paid her no mind for the moment, setting the box down and searching various other drawers for a white cloth big enough for the box to be wrapped in. Then, once she'd successfully found one, she laid it out neatly on the table and opened the box to place the ring inside.

The moving of the ring snapped Tikki out of whatever trance she'd been in. She flew up, clinging to Marinette's hand and begging, "Wait! At least tell me what you'd want in a cat!"

Marinette supposed that was a win, since Tikki wasn't outright rejecting the idea and had little argument against it. She dropped the ring inside the box and smiled at the gentle 'click' it made when she closed it, then turned to address Tikki. The nervousness on display made a modicum of sense when considering that kwami were supposed to obey the guardian, so being told to do what they wanted was probably a little strange.

Marinette just took it in stride. She leaned against her chair as she considered her ideal cat, having been so used to Chat Noir that she needed a minute to imagine someone who really matched her.

"Thoughtful," she answered, nearly blurting the word out when it finally came to her. "Someone who thinks the way I do so I'm not doing everything myself. They can be selfless, but they have to have limits, and with good instincts so they won't throw themselves in front of me." Her expression growing fond at the idea of such a partner, she took the cloth and wrapped the box in it, sealing it with a strong knot as she added, "And... they have to be understanding, where I can cover for them and they can cover for me and we'll just—click."

She snapped her fingers for effect, watching as Tikki flew over to the wrapped-up box and tested it to ensure it was safe to carry. While she was tugging at the knot to confirm it was tight enough, Marinette stood and headed up the stairs to her bed, opening the way to her balcony so Tikki had a way out.

By the time Marinette peeked over the bed to check on Tikki, Tikki had already taken hold of the cloth and flew up to be eye level with her, the box being a noticeable yet manageable weight. Marinette moved to the side, allowing the straight-faced Tikki to go past her and go up to the balcony.

Thinking that Tikki had already gone, Marinette was about to close the trapdoor when she heard a soft, "Marinette?"

Her head turned to see Tikki, hovering above the little table with the box still held in her paws. She seemed conflicted, like she was struggling to find words, but eventually settled on, "You're a great guardian."

And with that, she left, Marinette blinking in surprise for a moment before a smile formed on her face. She closed the way to her balcony, then slipped back down the stairs to start getting ready for bed.

At the same time she'd be settling in to sleep that night, her tiny Miracle Box would be set down delicately in the Liberty, specifically on Luka Couffaine’s amp.

#((And some Lukanette obviously because I have no self control.))#MC's Writing #writing: story #category: salt #salt: chat noir #episode: Lies #other: ml spoilers #relationship: Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain Cheng

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laurfilijames · 3 years

Text

Desired Effect

———

Pairing: Fili x female reader

Words: 2,718

Warnings: rated E. M/F unprotected intercourse. Fili is a cheeky bastard

Summary: Fili buys you a scandalous dress to wear to an event, and effectively teases you until you can’t take it any more, dragging him home for some fun.

Requested by @lilith15000, I hope this is everything you were hoping for, love! It was a pleasure to write for you, thank you for always supporting my work. Enjoy!

Weaving through the corridors on your way back to your chambers, you took in the decor around you. Tapestries hung from the ceiling, many more than normal, and all the dwarrow around you were bustling about more than usual. You smiled to yourself, excited for the reason for all of this commotion; a party.

It wasn’t going to be anything huge and extravagant, but you always looked forward to an event like this, an excuse to dress up, to have Fili standing proudly beside you the whole night with his arm locked around yours, his attention always focused on you.

Thinking about what gown you would wear as you walked through your chambers to the bathing room to run a bath, something on your bed caught your eye, making you pause and turn to look.

To your surprise, a stunning gown was laid out on the bed before you. Deep red in colour with gold details adorning it, a perfect match to Fili’s red robes he wore often to events such as tonight’s.

The closer you got to it, the more you realized it looked more like a nightgown as opposed to a formal dress. It couldn’t be for tonight, you thought, the material was thin and silky, and surely would reveal every part of you, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Fili must have intended for you to wear it around your chambers, in the comfort of your husband's company alone. You held it up in front of you and turned to look in the mirror. The neckline plunged extremely deep and there were even cut outs along the sides, acting as windows to display your skin.

You placed the dress back on the bed and began to remove your current outfit, curious to see how it would look on your body.

The feel of it against your bare skin made you feel like a Queen as soon as the hem hit the floor, the material floating over your features and accentuating every curve of you.

You tucked your lip in your teeth as you admired your reflection, thinking how Fili would no doubt have this torn off of you in an instant.

“I see you found my gift…” Fili’s voice appeared suddenly, causing you to turn in his direction to see him leaning casually against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as he admired you.

“Fili, it’s beautiful! Thank you! I’ll wear it while I get ready for tonight.” You twisted your body back to face the mirror, a smile unable to be erased from your lips due to his sweet gesture.

“No, amralime,” he said with a playful tone, taking a step toward you. “You’ll be wearing it all night.”

You turned to him again, shocked at his statement. Barely stringing the words together, you gawked at him, “There’s no way! It’s hardly containing me!”

Now his hands were on your hips, gliding over your sides where the dress left you exposed and you heard him hum in satisfaction.

Fili gave you that look; the one where his eyes darkened, his eyebrows rose higher on his head and his lips pulled into a sly smirk, the very one that made fire pull deep within you.

“That’s exactly the point. I want everyone to see you. To see that you’re mine. You’re too beautiful to keep hidden.”

“But Fili—” you began to protest but he stopped you, his index finger landing on your lips to stop your words.

“Trust me.”

A sigh left your lungs, and suddenly you didn’t feel the need to argue anymore. Fili removed his finger from your lips and replaced it with his, his tongue demanding entrance to your mouth that you easily allowed. Trust was something you always had with Fili, so why should this be any different? Only it was the mischievous look that lingered on his face that told you he might have something else up his sleeve.

The night had been wonderful so far and it wasn’t near being over. You felt excited and exhilarated, but it wasn’t the party that had you feeling this way.

As usual, Fili couldn’t keep his hands off of you, always clutching your own or wrapping his arm around your waist while in conversation with someone, his heavy hand resting on your thigh when you were at your place at the table. Although this was a normal occurrence for the two of you, everything between you felt more charged than it typically was. It probably had everything to do with the things Fili kept whispering in your ear, or sometimes even out loud, but quiet and subtle enough that only you were able to hear. Those around you were likely thinking you were having nothing other than a warm exchange between lovers based on the smile that crossed your lips and the way Fili chuckled at your reactions.

Little did they know Fili was quickly placing you under a spell with every word that passed his lips. Things like; “See everyone watching you? They’re all thinking about the things they want to do to you. Too bad for them I’m the only one who gets to.”

Or he would discreetly trail his fingers up your thigh where your dress parted in a high cut slit, briefly touching you at the apex of your legs, his eyes dark with lust as they bore into you, saying in a low voice, “The best part about seeing you in this dress is knowing I’ll get to see you out of it soon.”

Every one of these promises made you shiver, finding yourself pressing your thighs together in an attempt to restrain yourself from spreading them apart for him right there.

You were a mess.

You even went so far as to avoid your own husband, putting distance between you any time he came near again, but it was no use. Even from across the room he knew how to make you squirm, looking you up and down like he would take you in front of everyone in the room.

It took everything in you to focus on the conversations around you, but Fili was unrelenting, determined and persistent in making you break.

Nodding along to a story you wouldn’t be able to recall the subject of even if you tried, told to you by a dwarf whose name you had long forgotten, you felt Fili brush his hand over the opening on your waist, the action making you swallow harshly and close your eyes. Curse him!

The dwarf before you continued his story, and thankfully there was a group surrounding you so he didn’t take notice of your rude behaviour.

“Did you have some dessert, amralime?” Fili asked beside you, having set his plate down on the table nearest to where you both stood before placing his hand on his hip and looking at you curiously.

“No, Fili, I did not. I’ve been slightly distracted…” you said with a playful warning.

He chuckled and his tongue darted out to lick his lips, you watching it happen like it was in slow motion.

“That’s too bad, it was delicious,” his lips turned upwards and his dimples made a more prominent appearance, making you weak once more. Choosing to ignore the effect he had on you, you turned back toward the story-teller, vowing not to succumb to the hunger that lingered in your stomach that wasn’t because you wanted dessert.

Fili leaned closer to you, his mouth beside your ear, his breath hot and sweet like the berries he’d just consumed and goosebumps erupted on your skin instantly. “It was good, but you’re going to taste better…”

That was your breaking point. You politely excused yourself from the group and gripped Fili’s arm with your hand, turning him to follow you and practically dragging him through the crowd to the doors. The cheeky dwarf dared to laugh as he struggled to keep up with you which only fueled your fire. You were going to wipe that smug grin off of his face.

As soon as you were both through the doors you moved to press him against the wall, hastily attaching your lips to his, your mouths immediately opening in your breathlessness to allow your tongues to tangle together. His hand flew up to hold your cheek, moving off the wall to replace his body with yours, your back slamming against the stone with a thud. His knee drove between your legs to part them, his hands moving down your sides tantalizingly slow. He took your hands in his and reached them up over your head at the same time he ground his hard bulge against your mound, the material gliding over the wet that had accumulated in your folds.

He pulled away from you slightly, watching your chest heave, his eyes dancing over every area of your body that the dress revealed.

“Mahal, you are a sight to behold,” Fili praised you. “This dress was the best money I’ve ever spent,” he continued, laughing before diving down to kiss your throat, pulling a drawn out moan from you.

“Although I can’t decide if I want to take you while you’re still wearing it, or rip it off of you.” His words mumbled against your skin as he explored you further, making you forget you weren’t yet in the privacy of your chambers. Then he stopped, his hands now braced on either side of your head, his pupils completely dilated as he looked at you menacingly.

“Probably both.”

You gasped when he latched onto your taught nipple through the thin fabric of the dress and quite frankly you didn’t care what happened to the dress, you simply needed him to end this ceaseless torture he’d put you through all night.

“Fìli!” you pleaded, “Take me home this instant, I’ve suffered enough!”

He grinned at you again, clearly amused by your frustrations and pulled you from the wall, making his way down the corridor toward your chambers with your hand in his.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

“This is exactly what you wanted to happen, wasn’t it?” you accused him as you realized his intention for buying you such a scandalous gown, your mouth hanging open, mockingly aghast.

“I had to make it so it was your idea to leave! I didn’t want to go in the first place.”

“You’re terrible, Fili.”

Giving you a sideways glance, you all but combusted on the spot when you heard his next words.

“I’m about to show you how terrible I can be.”

Fili’s robes were being torn off and discarded on the floor, the hem of your dress hiked up to your hips even before your door was unlatched, both of you frantic to access the other. As soon as you were completely through the threshold Fili kicked the door shut with his boot, managing to push it off his foot in the process.

Buttons fell to the floor as you tore open his tunic, revealing his bare torso to you.

“Easy, now, my love. We can’t go ruining all of our best clothes.” He dared to laugh again but it was cut off, changing to a hiss when you reached forward and pulled at the laces on his trousers, his cock hanging out heavily in the cool air.

“I’m not letting you ruin this dress, Fili. I quite like the effect it had on you.” You watched him melt to your touch as you stroked his length, his head tipping back in ecstasy. His head returned to its normal position and his eyes opened to look at you when you suddenly stopped touching him, moving away to sit on the small desk that occupied the space beside the door.

Fili strode over to you, closing the short distance quickly with a ferocity that worried you slightly. His hands roughly covered your knees and pushed them apart, making room for him to stand between your legs. He pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers now roaming up the backs of your thighs to cue you to wrap your legs around his thick waist.

“I’ll do my best to refrain from ruining the gown, amralime,” he whispered in a husky voice, his lips brushing yours. He lifted it further up your body, the silky skirt pooling at your hips, exposing your abundant arousal to him. “I can’t make the same promise for you though.” The tips of his fingers grazed over you and Fili growled at how ready you were, and before he could waste another moment gripped his throbbing cock and lined it up to push through your tight entrance.

You both cried out at finally getting what you both had desired all night, your hips pushing forward to meet his already intense thrusts.

The sound of the desk banging against the wall echoed throughout your chambers, the feral tempo you worked to set revealed with every clap of wood on stone.

Teeth crashed together with every desperate kiss, nothing of what your hands and mouths were doing made any sense other than that it was as if you were trying to grasp onto each other for dear life with every touch. Curses spilled from Fili’s wet lips, making you question whether it was to prolong this session and prevent his nearing climax, when all it was doing was spurring yours on. He roared in your ear as you began your ascent, your walls closing around him, squeezing and coaxing out all he had to offer you. In your blind passion you sensed his hands grip your side, groping and clawing at you in his own frantic pursuit. His fingers slipped through one of the cutouts on the side of your gown, the sound of material ripping registering on you just as you shouted through your high.

There was no time to care, still focused on riding out the shuddering bliss that rattled through you while Fili pounded into you in search of his own. His mouth covered yours, sloppy and clumsy, and with a growl that reverberated through you, you felt him coat your insides with his hot spend.

After a few moments of panting and kissing, Fili pulled out of you and took a step back, running his fingers through his sweaty hair that you’d efficiently messed up during your activities. He stumbled slightly, moving his hands from his hair to run over his beard like he was trying to catch his bearings again. His body was coated in a layer of sweat from his exertion, and despite your very small annoyance that your dress was ruined you couldn’t help but admire the masterpiece that was your husband standing before you in all his glory.

You cleared your throat to regain his attention, fiddling with the tattered piece of dress between your fingers to draw his gaze there.

A sigh left him and he placed his hands on his hips, shrugging slightly as a sated smile pulled at his dimples. “I’m sorry, I truly didn’t mean to ruin it,” he said vaguely, his attempt at an apology weak.

Unconvinced, you gave him a pointed look but then squirmed where you remained when he took a step toward you again, gathering the edge of your dress in his hands, his expression hungry once more.

“Seeing as it is now torn,” he looked from your exposed midsection up to your eyes with renewed spirit, “I’m going to have to take it off of you and take you for a second time without any part of you hidden from me.”

A yelp escaped you when Fili gripped your bottom and slid you off the desk, dragging you down to the floor with him. Both of you erupted in laughter, the thin and scratchy rug not softening the landing whatsoever, but your discomfort was soon forgotten when you were slowly guided to lay on your back, your dress slipped up and over your head, the silky garment now used as your blanket.

Fili settled himself between your legs, slowly kissing you while gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek, an indication that this next round would be unhurried and measured, a stark contrast to the rush you both found yourselves in earlier.

———

Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea

Fili: @shethereadinghobbit

#fili #fili smut #fili smut request #fili oneshot #the hobbit fili #fili x reader #fili x female reader #smut #the hobbit #fili durin

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Text

“i want you to have me...all of me”

pairing: hitoshi shinso x female reader

cw: virgin!reader fluff, porn with a plot, nsfw (MINORS DNI! loss of virginity, corruption kink, dacryphilia, kissing, fingering, spit kink, oral fixiation, creampie, consensual sex, protected sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, jaw grabbing, praise kink, degradation, bondage by capturing weapon, biting and marking, hair pulling, cunt slap)

word count: 5300+

a/n: i haven’t posted in a week cause of revising but yeah this is for a collab and i have one more collab event going on so yeah from now to the 21st they’ll only be this fic and another fic coming out, enjoy.

other information: corrupt a virgin collab by @seita

summary: in which shinso finally takes the next step with his sidekick after being unable to confess he finally works up the courage finding out your own secret as you both decide to take the next step in your newfound relationship

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

He couldn’t help but stare at you, stare at how pretty you looked on his arm, you were more than just your looks though. The way you silenced a room with your quirk, the way you were able to easily fit into any conversation and the way you always eagerly spoke to the pro hero.

It had been a long night of mingling at the event for pro heroes that Shinso almost forgot the real purpose of it. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, you were his sidekick and that was it, you had a powerful quirk that would get you far in the hero society. But most of all you were so damn innocent.

Your lingering eyes on his form as he entered the agency, the way you’d give him those tender looks whenever he explained the day's tasks. He couldn’t help but stare at you from a distance, the way you spoke calmly to the other side kicks. He had brought you along to the event more for his own benefit than what he had told you the day prior. Words of getting you to talk to other pro heroes when in reality he had just wanted you on his arm for the night.

The stupid purple dress that clinged to your body had made him unable to resist the temptation. You looked too good to be left alone, so as he remained at your side, introducing you to other pro heroes, Midoriya and Todoroki both smiling happily at you. You seemed to easily converse with the two pro heroes even speaking to the rowdy Bakugo as he arrived with drinks for the three of them. Midoriya offered his to you which you had happily taken, Shinso didn’t need to worry, of course he didn’t.

But another feeling had taken over him as he watched you converse, watched you happily take the drink. Fingers brushing against Midoriya’s fingers, a feeling of an unknown jealousy that made him begin the walk towards the four of you.

His arm moved to your back as you gave a sweet disgusting smile at him, “haven’t been getting into any trouble, have you?”

“No…of course not,” you stifled as he smirked looking down at you.

“We should get going,” he led you away as his hand remained on your back, he turned to meet the three men who watched you leave. A sickly smirk on his face as he couldn’t help but feel a burst of energy hit him as he talked to you.

You were too perfect for him to not resist, for him to not touch. “it’s so early though Shinso.” You whined as he didn’t meet your gaze, you were nothing more than his sidekick, you have no feelings for him, he could tell from the way your gaze lingered back at the hall. “We sh…”

“We have an early morning,” he interrupted as you closed your mouth, your proposition to spend more time with him seemed to have gone over his head as he began stepping down the steps towards the car park.

You hated how cold he could get in a matter of seconds, how every time you’d see him smile and it would turn into a scowl once he realised what he was doing. On many occasions your friends at work had told you about the many occasions of when Shinso would get pissed off and the whole agency would become annoyed as well.

Shinso watched as you hadn’t followed him as you looked up at the night sky, thinking – most likely about how much you wanted to be nowhere near the man. His dull eyes focused on you as he saw you take the steps towards him cautiously. You were too pure, too vulnerable for him to ever have, and as he kept you at an arm’s length he knew tomorrow was already doomed to be an uneasy day.

Shinso had dropped you off to your apartment without a world, he watched you enter the complex before leaving. He was about to drive off when he banged his hand against the steering wheel, if only he had confessed, the event was supposed to be the alone time he had wanted with you. But his insecurities and nerves had gotten in the way, as he banged his head against the wheel he couldn’t help but feel almost pathetic.

He had gotten over the torment of his quirk being villainous years ago but now with someone so filled with a painting vitality that was unknown to him he couldn’t handle it. What was even worse was the way you banged your head against the door. You could’ve said something more, reassured him, asked to spend more time. But you had remained frozen even in the car ride, your gaze on the wisps of black and everlasting speckles of white shine through the mist.

Both of you remained tormented by your overthinking as neither realised the feeling that was ready to explode tomorrow.

You walked into the agency bright and early as you were met with one of your friends, Mai grabbed your hand as soon as she saw you. Taking you to where some of the offices were and most of all where Shinso’s own office sat, the glass separating everybody from him. As you looked through the transparent material, “what’s happening?”

“He’s been in his office just staring outside of the window for the past two hours,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Okay and why doesn’t someone just go and ask if he’s okay?” You questioned as you were about to step forward and go yourself.

That’s when the feeling of multiple arms stopped you in your tracks, “listen newbie, there’s one rule you have to follow here and that is to never go into his office without him asking.”

You chuckled at how stupid they were all being, “what’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“You don’t want to know?” One of the sidekicks said as he shivered.

You raised an eyebrow giving an unamused look as you barged past the hands, they looked at you hesitantly but didn’t stop you, “newbies gonna learn the hard way.” One of the sidekicks said as Mai elbowed them watching what was to occur.

You knocked on the glass as you didn’t hear a response but still walked in, “Shin…”

Half way through your speech you felt his capturing weapon wrap around your body as he turned the chair, his eyes widened as he saw you caught in it. He let go in a matter of seconds, but eyes remained still as he looked at how you still gave a toothy smile. “I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I got warned so it's my fault…” you trailed off as he began to unwrap the cloth off of you. The image ingrained of you wrapped in it as he was able to fuck into you, shaking his head as he put it back around his neck. “…is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Shinso looked outside seeing how people seemed to be doing everything but their jobs. He stepped past you going to the glass as he opened the door, “don’t you all have patrols to go too?”

His eyes flashes into a haze as everybody seems to scurry to grab their things for patrols as they leave the building. “Come on…” he murmured as he began walking out of the building, if he was going to go on a patrol he was going with you,

He had spent too long of a time without you that if he wasn’t going to confess today then he’d forget about you. He was giving himself today, he had to do it, he was a Pro Hero, he had everything he had wanted. His dream was a success but your arrival had made him want you and now with you so close in his grasp he had to try at least.

His eyes flashed to the way you walked beside him, you seemed tense, quiet even. Your hero costume ordaining you perfectly, the whites and lilacs making the pure vessel you had ready to be tainted. He licked his lips as he fingers went through his hair, the Artificial Voice Cord around his mouth.

You always loved the way it worked, having heard Shinso speak about it when you had first arrived. It was interesting and the start of what you would call a friendship when you had asked to see how it worked. “Your staring Y/n,” he said, “focus on the civilians.”

You nodded as you looked back to the surrounding areas, it seemed like villain attacks were on a low at the time, even with petty crime it was easily handled by the both of you. You wanted to speak about last night, how he seemed to want to confess of something but instead the silence and awkwardness that occurred instead.

“Shinso…is something wrong?” You murmured as you both walked passed an alleyway.

He looked down at your face, the way your hero costume clinged to every part of your body. He had no idea how you didn’t get cold from wearing it especially when winter occurred. But your question made him think instead, he was only irritated this morning due to not confessing to you.

But his liking of you stemmed from more than just wanting to ruin the purity you had, he liked how you spoke to others, how you easily became friends with the other sidekicks, how you looked was an added bonus. But most of all he liked that stupid goddamn smile you’d have whenever you saw something you liked. And at that moment Shinso was seeing that stupid smile, the way your eyes crinkled, and lines formed as your lips were full and cheeks pushed to show even more of your smile.

He stared at you, the way you continued to look up and smile at him he was silent, and you didn’t care because he finally looked at peace. The startling noise of an ice cream van to the side had made you focus away from him, the way you stared at the kids holding their ice cream as it dripped to the side of their fingers. “Come on, I’ll get us one,” Shinso didn’t let you answer, instead taking your sleeve as you both went towards the truck.

He was avoiding the matter at hand, he hated how he couldn’t be his normal blunt self, he was able to talk to people. He knew he was that’s how he had made friends when he had finally joined the hero course. But as he looked over at you, the way you looked at the different ice creams before pointing at the one you wanted…you were someone who wouldn’t glance at him twice.

As he passed the ice cream to you, you took a lick of it as you looked at him take his own. He didn’t even know if you knew what you were doing, licking at the sides as he watched your tongue. He shook his hair trying not to stare but as you both continued the patrol of a less crime filled area. The ice cream dripped to the side of your hand and finger.

There was a silence as you both ate in silence, as you both turned to see the agency. Your fingers with the white dairy as you sucked on it, he couldn’t help but watch as each finger came out of your mouth with saliva sticking to it.

It was Denki who had got him out of the trance, stopping the both of you as he came from his own patrol, “Shinso,” the man looked at his friend as he gave a tired look.

“Oh Kaminari, what are you doing here?” He questioned as he watched his blond friend look down at you.

Denki already knew of you, having seen you last night but not spoken to you. He had seen Shinso’s lingered looks and had often heard the man speak fondly about you, “just passing by you must be the Y/n I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard about me,” you smile out, it wasn’t the same one you had given to Shinso but Shinso was able to witness you converse with his friend. How much he loved that about you, how whatever situation you were put in your ease to become friends with another pro hero.

Denki nodded as he looked back at Shinso, “all good things, you were right she is very pretty Shinso.”

Shinso glared at his friend as Denki chuckled, “I better leave before I get punched by lover boy.”

“Kaminari,” Shinso murmured as he just wanted his friend to leave. Denki left with a wave as you gave a confused look tilting your head to the side to look at Shinso.

“Pretty…”

“I…I…” Shinso knew it was now or never to confess. Knowing that the rest of his day would end up becoming busy with other sidekicks and scheduled meetings he had. He stopped you in your tracks as he looked down at you, your soft gaze staring up at him lightly.

“You are…You’re pretty…”

“Oh thanks, I don’t really see it, but I guess the quirk makes me look more pre…”

Shinso interrupted quickly, “No…no it’s not that. Fuck…” his hand went to the back of his neck as he didn’t dare look into your eyes, “I like you, okay? I don’t want to ruin anything though and you probably don’t like someone like me because of my quirk and…”

Your hand went to his cheek as you stopped his rambling, “you’re such an idiot.”

“If you’re going to reject me you could be n…”

You interrupted him once again, “I’m not, I like you too…you’re the first person I’ve ever…ever liked and I guess I’m not very good and showing my feelings…but I do like you too.”

He met your gaze as your hand remained on his cheek, he looked at you, how small you seemed. Your eyes flashed to his lips as he looked at you softly, “we can take things slow, whatever you want.”

Before you both could lean into one another, the sound of sidekicks coming through the corner made you both move apart from one another. An unnerving silence between the two as Mai came towards you, “let’s get some lunch Y/n.”

“Okay,” Shinso had been taken by some of his other sidekicks over an issue that occurred as you and Mai left on your break.

Giving one last look behind you as you looked at the man, he had a new glistening to him as he licked his lips. He was finally accomplished as he couldn’t wait to finally have you be his.

The day continued with Shinso being busy with the issue that occurred, you had barely seen him as you and Mai went on another patrol, both speaking about the events of the weekend. You spoke about the pro hero event you had been to and how nice the number one pro hero had been. A shocking surprise for Mai who seemed to feel intimidated by the green haired man. “I’m telling you he was so nice, like he offered me his drink.”

“Ugh I wish Shinso had invited me now, I want to meet him so badly,” you chuckled lightly as you both watched the sun begin to set. You could understand why he had invited you of all people last night now, how his stuttering of how pretty you had looked in the dress you wore for the event. It had all connected and all you could think about was the man.

When you both arrived back at the agency, an uneasy emptiness had settled, Shinso was missing alongside other sidekicks. You and Mai didn’t question it as you both grabbed your stuff to leave, just as you both stepped outside the doors, you saw Shinso pulling at his hair as he seemed angry about something, taking aggressive steps as he walked towards his office. You would have gone to see him if the pull of Mai didn’t stop you, instead taking the long walk back to your apartment instead.

Shinso had become pissed as soon as his sidekicks spoke of what occurred, having to spend the whole day sorting out their mess. He had finally come back to the agency after hours of running around the city. His mind had been on you and with you having already left and unfinished business occurring.

His mind was focused on just you, wanting to only see you, wanting to only have you. As he took his car keys, leaving the agency as quickly as he could, a few goodbyes here and there. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was you, corrupting you.

You had finally felt free after the confession this morning, lying on the sofa as you flicked through some shows. Shinso had been your first crush ever since you had first seen him when he was starting out. But for him to like you back, you felt like a kid. A worry settled through you, you were inexperienced, not even having had your first kiss let alone slept with someone.

Under the guise you had of wanting to seem pure, an unsettling urge to have Shinso in you had taken over you. The way his hero costume clung to his frame, his hands moving through the capturing weapon. The said capturing weapon wrapped around your wrists as he fucked your mouth, you couldn’t lie and say that even if Shinso had spoken of taking things slow all you wanted was him.

The sound of the door being knocked at made you jolt as you opened the door to see the man in question. He was still wearing his hero costume as he looked at you with a fiery lust, “I can’t wait,” he murmured.

His hands went to your neck as his finger brushed against your cheek, lips smashing against one another. You didn’t know what you were doing, instead hands moved to his hair as you followed his movement with your own. His tongue gliding through your mouth as it skimmed against your tongue, he heard your low moan as his other hand moved to your back making you arch into the kiss.

He let go as your faces stayed close to one another, the fury remained not subsiding. He looked at you with lust as his mouth moved to your neck, “I need you Y/n…please.”

A soft kiss placed against the crook of your neck as you leant your head backwards to allow him more access. You had been thinking of this for too long, wanting him but his edge as his fingers played with your shirt. Slipping under as his hand gripped your sides, feeling your skin under him.

“Shinso…” you whispered as his mouth continued to kiss at your neck, he looked up at you. A realisation flashed through him as he let go of you.

“I’m sorry Y/n…I shouldn’t have…I said we should take things slow and I…I…forgive me today has just been…” he had begun pacing around, as he went to close the door.

You didn’t know how to react, you wanted this, wanted to help him and as you interrupted him, your own lust took over, “I want you.”

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at your form eyeing you up and down as he moved towards you once again, “are you sure?”

“Yeah…” you looked down as you didn’t want to admit the truth.

“Y/n…” his hand moved to cup your face, forcing you to stare up at him as his lips were close enough for you to touch, to feel once again, “tell me properly that you want this.”

“I want this…it’s just…” he waited for the response giving you a tender look as you looked at him with a soft glow “…I’m a virgin.”

He always thought the persona you put on was a façade that someone capable of fighting any villain and talking to anyone would have had one-night stands. Especially with how pretty you were, everything about you was pretty from the way your hair sat to the way you spoke. Shinso’s quirk relied on people talking but whenever you spoke he felt more enchanted than any of the people influenced by the brainwashing.

“That means I can ruin you…myself.” He felt even more turned on as he watched you stare up at him, he pushed you back on the arm rest of the sofa. You sat on it as one of his legs spread your legs open, hands gripping your face, his thumb skimmed against your lips as he pushed it inside watching as you sucked at it. “You gonna let me ruin this pretty…” his thumb moved out of your mouth as he skimmed your saliva across your mouth and cheeks, watching the spit fall down.

“Yes…” you were breathing heavy as he smirked seeing how dazed you looked. Your face tainted in a matter of seconds, gripping your jaw with one hand as his other went under your shirt. He went under your bra as his finger moved to flick against your nipple.

The instant you moaned, mouth agape, the build of spit he had in his mouth was spat right into your tongue. You moaned as his finger continued to pinch at your nipple, the spit mixing with your own as Shinso was able to see the strings of saliva against your tongue and mouth. “You’re already doing good baby.”

The praise sent a flutter through your body as he noticed how your eyes glossed, “let's finish this in your room.” He gripped your thighs bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms moved to his neck.

You kissed him as he could taste his own saliva and your spit mix between both of you, as he kicked the door open, seeing how your room reflected you perfectly. He put you on the bed as your mouths remained connected. Spit on the sides of your mouths as he saw how much you craved him, your hands moving to grab onto his capturing weapon.

He closed the bedroom door as he knelt on the bed, one knee between your own as he wanted to feel how wet you were. Taking the capturing weapon off of his neck, he watched as your eyes lingered onto it, putting it to the side where he could easily grab it. He kissed you softly, leaning down as your back hit the duvet.

“You sure you want to do this?” He whispered as his hand lingered across your shirt, his hand waiting to hear your response.

You nodded as he waited to hear you verbally say it, “I want you to have me...all of me.”

It was all he needed for his hand to lift your shirt above your head, the way your breasts sat in your bra, hard nipples from his fingers already having flicked against them. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby…make you scream for me.”

You moaned as his mouth sucked at your nipple, his fingers flicking against your other one, as his other hand moved to your joggers. Hand about to divulge into your underwear, your hand had moved to pull at Shinso’s hair as he continued to suck and nibble at your tit.

“Hi…Toshi”, at the sound of his name, his hand went into your underwear, feeling how wet you had gotten. His fingers beginning to play with your clit, feeling the nub between his fingers as your moans intoxicated the room. “M…more…please..” you arched your hips to feel his fingers against your slick filled clit.

The movement made Shinso stop sucking at you, he looked at you, how slutty you had become to feel even more of him. He took his hand out of your underwear as you whined to feel more of him, his fingers filled with your slick, “already wet…isn’t that slutty of you…” He watched as you tried to get passed his legs to feel some more but he put his fingers across your lips instead, “you want to taste yourself…open up.”

He was too close to your lips as just as you opened your mouth, he moved his fingers and sucked on them himself, “you took too long.” He teased as he sucked each finger forcing you to watch as your hands tried to get to his trousers, but his other hand had restrained both. “If you keep moving I’ll have to tie you up…or is that what you want?”

You both looked to the side where the capturing weapon was, he leant against you, the imprint of his cock through his trousers pressing against your clothed cunt. You rutted against him, he gave a groan at the movement against his cock as he took the capturing weapon, the carbon coil flicking between his hands as he grabbed your hands. His cock skimming past your cunt once more, as he put your hands above your head, using the cloth as it wrapped against your wrists, tightening it at each movement you made against him.

“You want to be tied up for me…if you’re going to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” He watched how your chest became full and raised as you arched to feel more of him, he took his shirt off as he was left shirtless.

Your eyes filled with a hunger as he went down to kiss you, “reply to me or I won’t fuck you baby.”

“I…I want to be tied up…” you whispered acknowledging how turned on you had become just from his action.

“Good…” his hand moved to your underwear, going past it as his hand patted your cunt, “…girl”

Both his hands moved to pull your joggers down your form, pulling your underwear down simultaneously. He watched how flushed you had become from being exposed, “pretty virgin cunt baby.”

“Take it…” you murmured as your hands ruffled against the material.

He undid his belt as he looked at you softly, “I intend too,” fingers moving past your clit as two fingers divulged into your cunt. The feeling of your walls pushing against his fingers, “you touched yourself baby.”

“I…I…” as his fingers moved inside of your cunt, you moaned as he went further into you, “Y…yes…”

“Naughty girl aren’t you,” he watched you squirm, your legs twitching at the feeling of his thick fingers pumping back and forth into your wet cunt. “Want to cum? Want to cum on my fingers baby?”

“To…Toshi, ple…please let me…cum…” your mouth had widened, drool coming from the corners as you felt a coil in your stomach.

He pumped into you continuously, his fingers moving into the back of your cervix as he watched you twitch even more, “cum for me baby.”

“Toshi…” your loud scream of his name as the coil snapped the gush of cum being pushed back into you as his fingers continued to move past your first orgasm. “Wan…want your…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence, already knowing what you wanted as he watched his fingers were soaked in your cum. Stepping out of his trousers as he took his own boxers off, the imprint of cock made you lick your lips. He went into his pocket finding a condom as he looked down at you.

Cum dripping onto the bed sheets as your cunt looked plump and swollen, ready for him to take something no one else had even seen. Rolling the condom onto his cock, his fingers moved to your mouth, letting you have a taste of any cum that was left on his fingers. “You ready for this baby,” he whispered as his arms trapped your frame, he leant down to kiss you as you moaned a yes. “This is gonna hurt a little bit…”

His indigo hair damp as it rested against the back of his neck, he watched your hands squirm wanting to touch his hair as he moved one hand to unravel the capturing weapon. As soon as your wrists were free your hands went into his hair, pushing him to kiss you more, his cock moving past your clit and first orgasm.

“I want you…” you whispered as your faces were only a mere inch away from one another, he looked down at you as your eyes were filled with a different feeling. Not of a lust that you both had experienced, but a passion to finally become one.

His cock moved past your clit, he pressed into you slowly as he watched you moan, eyes watering. Wiping the tears with one hand, “you’re doing amazing baby, just a little bit more.”

His cock was half way into you as he began to thrust back out of you before going back in, your eyes watered even more at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your cunt out. “To…Toshi, I can…can take m…more,” he nodded as he pushed into you, his base finally meeting the entrance of your cunt as you moaned his name.

He began to thrust back and forth into you, going deeper into you at each thrust, your legs wrapped around his waist as his knelt feeling his cock go into your even more. His mouth went down to kiss you softly as saliva missed between one another once again, the feeling of his spit sticking to the corners of your mouth were prevalent as he continued to fuck into you. “Yo…you’re so fucking pretty baby,” he whispered as you he moaned into your ear.

The sounds of him groaning and moans of your name making you want to feel him forever, “To…Toshi please more….” His thrusts became quicker as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hands limp around his neck as even your legs seemed to have fallen due to the impact of each thrust.

As you gained your high, eyes opening as you saw his form, the way his hair fell across his face, his perfect body and cock, but most of all the look of love he had for you as he met your eyes. “I want to...be with you,” you whispered into his ear, his form changed as his thrusts became even more sloppier, “Hitoshi…I…I love you…”

“I love you too Y/n…” the sound of his voice making the coil snap in your stomach, feeling the white gush out of you. Each sloppy thrust becoming even sloppier as you moaned his name at the feeling of your release. The use of your cum being used to help him get even more into you, “I fuckin…love you baby.”

His words repeated as he felt his own high, groaning your name out loud as the cum gushed into the condom. Sliding out of your cunt collapsed beside you, sweat across both your forms as you gave a tired look at him, the night sky reflecting from outside, the small lamp to the side illuminating the room as he turned to see. The way your chest rose, cum dripped down onto the bed and hands moved to move his hair away from his face, “I do love you Toshi.”

He took the condom off as he tied it letting it drop as he watched you move to rest against his chest, fingers against his lower abdomen. He smiled watching how your eyes became tired and began dropping down slowly, the feeling of his body against you remained.

Kissing the top of your head, he pulled the covers on top of you both as he watched you snuggle closer into him. Almost wrapping your body against him as he looked up at the sky seeing the wisps of new stars and new colours, looking down at your sleeping form and the new relationship that had formed.

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