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itsbeaconhillsbaby · 3 years ago

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(cruel) summer || tom holland x reader

a/n: well...this took me a lot longer than I expected. I can only apologise for how long this has taken, especially since the absolutely wonderful @glahmouur requested it so many months ago. I hope you’re still excited to read, and that I’ve done it justice for you. clinging onto the last of these summer vibes before my favourite time of year - and hopefully plenty more writing to come over the next couple of weeks! I’ve missed you all so very much. enjoy x word count: 3735 (oops) warning: swearing, gross paparazzi, little bit of angst summary: it’s the summer of your dreams with your favourite people, something was always going to try and ruin it

The trip had been booked for months.

Tom, Harrison, Harry, Tuwaine and yourself. Mexico.

Two whole weeks.

No interruptions. No work. Just pure bliss.

And, it was shaping up to be the most perfect break.

The first couple of days since you had landed included a lot of amazing food, sightseeing around the quaint picturesque villages and cultural landmarks, tackling hiking trails and joining in on the sports activities set up for you and the boys on the crystal white beaches.

Your favourite part however, was the amount of quality time you got to spend with Tom. Both of you were considered workaholics, and you loved your jobs, but it meant that for the majority of the year you were in separate locations working on your own individual projects.

You both deserved, and needed, this break.

The timing couldn’t have been better, as across the two weeks you would be celebrating your 23rd birthday. Birthdays weren’t always something you and Tom could share together in person, but you would always make it work with FaceTime calls and the promise of a do-over when you were together again.

“Hey!”

You tore yourself away from the soft paperback that was resting warmly against your thighs.

“Hm?”

You look up at your boyfriend, strong arms hauling himself up against the hot paved edging of the pool. He shook his wet curls out of his hair, droplets springing from the tips. Tanned, freckled shoulders peeked out from beneath the water. The sun, strong and intense, commandeered the bright blue skies. A far cry from the cold, rainy weather you’d left back home in the UK. You were unwilling to make your way back to your hotel room in the sticky heat for your forgotten sunglasses, and were instead using your hand as a shield from the glaring rays.

“The water looks good on you,” you flirt, smiling across at him from your position on the reclined sun-bed.

He grins back at you, cheekily.

“It’ll look better on you. Aren’t you coming in?”

You pointed to the book nestled between your legs, “I’m reading, plus the water is freezing.” You teased him, training your eyes back onto the page. You heard brief splashing alongside the laughter of the boys as they continued to play their water basketball game.

A shadow blocks out your sun, dripping water onto the hot concrete.

“Yeah, no. Sorry, but that’s just not going to cut it birthday girl.”

Before you had a chance to take in his words, Tom had scooped you up from your position on the sun-bed. The light droplets from his wet, messy hair chilling your tanned skin.

“Tom! No! Put me down! What are you doing?” You laughed, lightly kicking your legs, “Wait, at least let me put my book down first.”

You felt the grumbled laugh against your body, as you gently tossed your book onto the lounger.

“Okay, go ahead.”

He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on your mouth - your hand knotted in the back of his wet, tangled hair as you pushed for more.

“Love you.” He said, before dropping you into the pool with a splash.

“You suck, Holland!” You shouted back to him, once you’d come back up for air, shaking water out of your ears and trying to scoop your tangled web of hair out of your eyes as he laughed, eyes twinkling. ****

You continued to watch from your perch on the side-lines, legs tracing patterns in the water whilst the sun beat down across your back and shoulder blades. The boys continued to mess around in the water. Your book had been long since abandoned on your sun lounger, pages now curling with the heat. You couldn’t contain your laughter when Tuwaine jumped on Tom’s back, Harry on Harrison’s so the two teams could race from one end of the pool to the other, legs peddling in what seemed like slow motion under the water; raucous fits of laughter emanating from both parties as your cheered on your boyfriend.

You couldn’t help but be automatically drawn to Tom, his smile so wide and eyes creased with laughter as Tuwaine casually slung his arms over his shoulders. His hair was completely dishevelled from the water’s attempts to flatten it entirely. You could see a smattering of freckles breaking out across his nose, complete with a small shock of pink on his cheeks as he was officially branded by the sun.

“Hey, pretty girl – forgive me yet?” Tom whined, swimming up to the edge to meet you. He gently pulled your legs further into the water, sliding himself between them, wrapping his arms around your waist as your legs wrapped themselves around his.

You laughed, pushing against his broad shoulders.

“Not sure yet. I’m thinking about it.”

He gave a toothy grin before peppering a small cluster of kisses against your lips, “You look so good.” He mumbled quietly against your mouth.

You rolled your eyes at him, before returning the kisses.

“Oi, get a room you two!” You laugh as Tom covers the front of you, ultimately taking the hit of water from Harry.

He gives you a light squeeze round the waist, and a soft kiss on the cheek whispering a quick, “Hop on.”

Wrapping your arms across his warm shoulders, you eased yourself fully into the water, feeling the immediate chill up your sides before wrapping your legs around Tom’s waist. Leaning forward against his back, he held onto the backs of your thighs – propelling you both through the water.

As you arrive next to the boys, you lightly floated away from Tom and were pulled into a one-armed hug by Tuwaine. As Harry held up a fist for you to bump against, you flicked your wrist just under the surface of the water – splashing him as payback.

Tom tread water with the cheesiest grin on his face as all the boys’ eyes immediately trained on you.

“Come on then, what’s this ‘mermaids’ game you were talking about – and how do we play?” ****

The air con hummed lowly, wispy curtains gently blowing in the cool breeze from the open balcony doors. The ocean twinkled in the late afternoon sunshine. You were sprawled out on the large king-sized bed wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffiest white towels, legs dancing in the air behind you. Lounging on your front, wet curls drying in the cool air you could hear the faint sound of spraying water from the en-suite shower. It soothed you as you continued to follow the written words on the pages of your, now slightly wrinkled and rough to the touch, paperback.

Your phone vibrated from the opposite side of the room, plugged in and charging atop the rustic, vintage vanity table where your new camera, battery pack and Tom’s wallet had all been left.

The camera had been a special gift from Tom which he’d surprised you with on your birthday, celebrated only the other evening. He’d been so giddy the morning of. The carefully, yet haphazardly, wrapped parcel had protruded just slightly from under the bed in the hotel room you shared, where he’d attempted to hide it. You pretended you hadn’t noticed. Puppy dog eyes shone as he eventually handed it across to you, surprising you in bed as the sun was going down, casting golden specks across your bodies, as he whispered a soft ‘happy birthday’ against your lips. Beaming at you once he saw your sheer shock and joy at his thoughtful gift, he had kept the first photo you’d taken in his wallet from that evening. Just the two of you - both sleepy shadows, full from all the sweet lemon sponge cake that has been especially ordered up to your room - cuddled together, legs entangled as you fell into each other’s embrace.

You’d all taken a boat to one of the smaller islands for a special celebratory dinner the next evening; where Harry had surprised you with the battery pack, his smart quick-thinking leaving Tom with a pink blush upon his cheeks. You thanked him with a smile, the rest of the crew spoiling you rotten with drinks and food. As the boys parted ways, you and Tom had waited around for the sunset, high off the sparkling, sweet tasting wine you’d both consumed all evening – bewitched by each other’s titillating company. A small wrap was knotted around your waist, as you had all stayed in your beachwear, black bikini top on show as a server snapped a picture of you both with your new camera per Tom’s polite request. The sun burned low behind you both, it’s vibrant orange glow glistening across the water towards the cove.

Posting the photo in your wine induced haze, you captioned it with a simple 23 and a golden heart before tagging Tom in the blurry, sepia quality polaroid.

You knew the vibrating would be your phone going into overload. A common occurrence that happened anytime you posted a photo with your boyfriend, the hordes of fans coming in full throttle to interact in some way.

Leaving it to buzz in the background, you turned your attention to the bathroom door opening. Tom stepping out as he shook his wet hair, towelling it dry as it stuck up in multiple directions haphazardly.

“Come here.”

You sat yourself up, legs crossed beneath you as he walked over to you – that soft smile high on his lips.

He sat on the end of the bed as you brushed through his temperamental curls, “Please leave it curly,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his tanned shoulder blades, running your hands through the brown locks.

“We’ll match.” He said, turning to you as your hands fell back into your lap.

“Would it be too much?” You asked, as he gently tucked a rogue drying curl behind your own ear.

“Oh definitely. But I love it.”

With that, he pushed forward. Noses brushed as you both relaxed into each other’s embrace, mouths eagerly seeking out each other, the sweet smells of lotion and ocean spray engulfing you both.

****

“Right, it’s my round! Get your orders in!”

The whole group hollered at Tom, who pressed a firm kiss onto your forehead as you tilted it upwards towards him, his two hands cradling either side of your head. Your eyes closed involuntary at the warmth before you turned to watch him leave the table and join the small crowd up at the bar. Dressed in a tropical patterned shirt, unbuttoned and billowing just slightly due to the aircon, you took a minute to admire him from afar. He worked hard to look the way he did, muscles contracting and relaxing again with each breath.

You pulled the thin material of your summery dress down further, eager to cover up some of the bare skin you had on show after seeing Tom’s. You paled in comparison to the web-slinging actor, and sometimes if you focussed on it too much you couldn’t understand why such a gorgeous man would be interested in you.

“Hello. Anyone in there?”

A hand waved in front of your eyeline. Shaking your head, you returned your attention back to the table where the boys were trying to mask their laughter.

“She can’t take her eyes off him for two minutes. Outrageous.”

“What? I’m on holiday, leave me alone!”

Tuwaine smirked slightly, as Harrison patted your arm reassuringly.

“Why did we agree to have a couple on this trip again?” Harry complained cheekily, grinning his cheesy grin at you. You reached an arm across the table and pushed a hand against his forehead, playfully shoving him back.

“Shut up, you love me.”

As Tom came back with the tray; a colourful array of cocktails, shots and ciders, the group continued to laugh and joke around, cheers-ing to your recent birthday and to the remainder of their holiday under the heat of the Mexican sun.

**** “Uh oh, incoming Tom.”

Everyone was rosy cheeked as they tumbled out of the restaurant, laughing and giggling as the sun cast its low golden glow over the glistening blue waters. Waves gently caressed the edge of the shore as you revelled in the drunken clinginess of your boyfriend, and the support and love of your friends.

You walked with Tom - the pair of you in your own little bubble, as he tucked you into his side, his arm slung casually across your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist. You could hear the thumps of his beating heart beneath the now buttoned up fabric of his shirt.

As the words spilled from Harry’s mouth, catching you all off guard mid conversation, Tom whipped his head round; immediately sobering up as his arm tightened around your shoulders. You peeked over his.

Behind a cluster of people, the striking black camera was obvious as the paparazzi pushed forwards, eager to catch a glimpse of the web-slinger himself.

You felt a brush of cold air sweep over your body, the hairs on your arms rising like tiny pinpricks as little goose bumps littered your skin. You straightened up, unwrapping yourself from Tom’s side.

“You okay?” He murmured into your ear, eyes hardening as he focussed on the path ahead of him whilst navigating the drunken, bustling crowds.

You nod.

“How did they even find us?”

You could sense Tom’s frustration and anger at the situation, resting a comforting hand on his arm. You knew what this meant, if the paparazzi had caught wind of where you all were, it wouldn’t be long before they figured out where it was you were staying and you couldn’t imagine that they’d leave Tom alone for the rest of his trip.

“I posted a photo the other night. Someone could’ve recognised the restaurant.”

It was during your worried ramble that the shouting started, camera-wielding men desperate to get a photo of Tom.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, okay? Let’s just head back.”

Your heart was racing as you were led through the dimly lit cobbled streets of the small village, losing Tom’s hand you were flanked by Tuwaine and Harrison – Harry hurrying up ahead with Tom. The camera shutters were getting louder and louder, the constant clicking ricocheting off the stone walls surrounding you as you attempted to block out the shouting and the grabbing hands of the people around you. The once happy, bustling streets now felt claustrophobic.

It was so easy to forget who Tom was in regards to his public image and celebrity status when you were together. Forcing you to recall that he wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was suddenly an A-list celebrity, ‘Spider-Man’ himself. Back home you could easily be together in public without too much attention – only having to accommodate for the occasional fan photo or dinner interruption. Premiere’s and special events weren’t so bad because the press was supposed to be there, and whilst extremely intimidating, you understood it was part of the job.

You noticed Tom and Harry slip down a small alleyway to the right, a blink and you’ll miss it move – as you and the boys continued up the cobbled paths to the main street. It was a distraction technique discussed every time the five of you went out together and had to deal with any irritating situation.

“They said they’re getting a car, and they’ll meet us back at the hotel.”

As Harrison organised your transport, you reached the main road – twinkling lights from the city and the roaring of cars sweeping past you. The paparazzi slowed behind you, their shouts less desperate now that it was obvious Tom was no longer with the group. Their frustration was obvious as they all grouped together, scanning through the photos that they had managed to sneakily take.

Then there was a stupid comment.

As the paps brushed past you all, one leaned in far closer than you had anticipated, stabbing a pointed finger straight into your chest and leaning in close.

“Think you’re so special. Girl like you. So many other beautiful girls out there.”

Whilst the language was slightly broken, you pieced enough together before Tuwaine stepped in front of you both.

“What the hell man! Fuck off, you’re just a bully, why don’t you just leave her alone, yeah? Pick on someone your own size!”

You grabbed at Tuwaine’s arm, shaking your head in silent surrender.

“Just leave it. It’s okay. It’s not worth it.”

“I just hate them so much. Never let anyone have a bit of privacy. Constantly looking to bring people down, and start fights - assholes!” He shouted down the road at the small cluster of men as they continued on their way, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I’m fine. They’re just mad they didn’t get their picture. Let’s just get out of here. Should probably make sure that they don’t follow us back to the hotel.”

Harrison came jogging over, hand beckoning to follow him to a sleek black car parked just around the corner.

“Car’s here,” He paused for a minute. Noticing your smaller stature and Tuwaine’s puffed out chest and frown, he tilted his head, “We all okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Let’s go.”

Smiling a small, grateful smile you gave Harrison’s arm a comforting squeeze before sliding onto the black leather seats.

***** “Can’t even give us a couple weeks off. I love this job. But I would pack it all in if it meant that paparazzi just fucking left us alone.”

“Tom. Think we should call it a night.”

Harrison nodded over at you. Whilst your body was curled into Tom’s frame, your eyes unfocussed, having found a spot on the wall to gaze into as the boys all had a drink in the private hotel lounge.

You didn’t want to admit that the photographer’s words had any impact. And you really didn’t want to bring down the light-hearted, fun energy that your vacation had been full of. You were usually so good at brushing off any unwarranted comments, which were usually inevitable seeing as your boyfriend had such a large fanbase. There was no way everyone was going to like you, and you could cope with that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing so for ages now. But whether it was the alcohol you’d already consumed, or something else – you just couldn’t stop thinking about what the man had spat at you.

Tom’s body shifts beneath you, holding out a hand for you to take as you both rise from the luxurious chaise. Shaking your head out of your daze, you smile softly as you grasp his hand and haul yourself up.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow okay. Thanks for tonight boys, and sorry for ruining it.”

“Tom, you didn’t-” Tom waved them off with a shrug, before sliding his arms across your shoulder and entwining your fingers at the other side.

“Night guys.” It came out as more of a whisper, as you processed to walk with Tom up to your floor, your head nestling gently into his collarbone.

****

The hotel room was suffocating.

You lay on your side, facing the firmly locked balcony doors. The room was cold. The air conditioning incessant with its obnoxious whirring. There was a rustle. The thin cotton sheets slide across your body as Tom hops in next to you.

“I’m sorry.”

His soft words caused your entire tension-filled body to exhale.

“Tom.”

You turned to face him. His eyes were closed, tiny creases etched into the space between his eyebrows. Tom didn’t like being vulnerable, you knew he was staving off his true feelings – the striking anger that was coursing through his body. Gently smoothing the creases out with your fingers, he leaned ever so slightly into your touch.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

You pressed a soft kiss on his brow bone before settling in next to him, bodies warm to the touch.

“I love you. You know that, right? Whatever they’re all saying, it’s rubbish.”

The lump in your throat that you had been impressively swallowing down all evening came back to the surface, the pressure building.

“How did you know?”

He shrugged.

“I saw some of the comments.”

The pictures had been released pretty quickly. By the time you had all arrived back to the hotel they were already circulating across the internet, which people took as the perfect opportunity to hurl insults at your social media pages.

He shifts his head to the left to look at you, eyes softening.

“Hey. You can let it out. It’s just me. C’mon.”

You curl further into him, as his lips caress your forehead.

“People suck.” You mumble into his chest as he wraps himself around you, lightly trailing his fingers up and down your arm, the skin bursting with tiny goose bumps. You revelled in the soothing comfort.

“Sometimes I just forget. I forget that there are thousands – maybe even tens of thousands - of people out there who just don’t like me,” Tom squeezes you that little bit tighter, “And it’s okay. I don’t mind, really. I just wish they didn’t have to be so vocal about it – about how I look, how I act, how I dress. About whether I’m good enough.”

“You are good enough. You’re more than good enough. You’re amazing.”

Your lips pull up into a small smile as you look into those concerned brown eyes.

“You’re biased.”

He let out a small huff, chest vibrating beneath you, “Am not.” He sighed, those fluffy brows saying a thousand words, “I’m supposed to make all that crap better, not make you feel worse because of some so-called fans on the internet, and those stupid idiot paps; I’m so sorry.”

“Maybe if you just…weren’t so damn attractive. That would help.”

You both laughed.

“Oh, really?”

You nodded, as he pulled you in, peppering more soft kisses along your temple until he made his way down to your mouth.

“You’re ridiculous. And beautiful.”

Another kiss.

“And smart.”

Another kiss.

“And kind.”

Another kiss. “And I am so in love with absolutely everything about you. You’re enough. You’re everything.”

You felt your eyes glossing over. Scrunching your nose to avoid an onslaught of overdue tears, you felt Tom move beneath the covers – his arms wrapping around your torso, his curly messy hair resting on your stomach.

“I love you too.”

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #harry holland #harrison osterfield #tuwaine barrett #lisa writes #lisa takes 10000 years to write more like

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xthecaptainssaviorx · 2 years ago

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Okay, so I said I’ll try to put my thoughts on the tv series down when I have time and after reading the first book again before I watched the series and spent the day after reading the other two books again too, I feel like I can try and do this now. Be warned though, this will be very long.

Overall, I liked the tv series a lot. To a certain point, I was convinced it was pretty much perfect but then some of the changes got too messy for my taste.

Up until episode three, I was really in love with this adaptation. I can say, there are changes they made that I loved, some that I liked, and some that I didn’t like and perhaps even found myself being disappointed with.

I really adore the cast. I think the casting of our main characters is top-notch. While I was hesitant when the casting of our main boys was announced, I’m positively surprised with both Gavin and Christopher because they are perfect as Jeremiah and Conrad and did a really great job with bringing the boys to life.

Personally I never really minded that Belly and Steven were changed to Asian characters and I don’t think I was ever worried or disappointed about Lola as Belly because she just always had the right vibe to me. I can’t really explain it but with the boys’ casting, I was like, eh I need to see them in action to decide if I like them or not but I never had that with Lola. When she was announced as Belly, she just fit.

I am SO glad, they decided to keep Steven around and give him a bigger role in the tv show. We never really had that in the books and I’m glad they changed it.

I’m unsure how I feel about them changing the back flashes from the book to the current timeline in the show. I mean I get why that would be easier but it felt off to me sometimes. Too much of the years-long pining was put into the same summer. Maybe that’s what it is.

I equally love and hate how petty and immature Belly is at some points, especially when it comes to Conrad. Hate because while reading it often made me cringe, Love because they kept it accurate to the books

I especially loved the moments that were true to the book. Like, those were my favorite moments

While the soundtrack is incredible, no doubt, I often felt as though the popular songs playing for important scenes took away from the actual scene. It took the spotlight. So I wish they would have dialed that down a bit.

I am MAD and so disappointed that they already explained the infinity necklace meaning. And that Belly already has it now. It’s such a huge, important thing in all of the books and in the Conrad/Belly relationship that I am genuinely mad they didn’t wait. And the fact that Belly was drunk during that scene made it even worse. Them using that scene now took away the whole build-up and emotional drama. It’s such a huge deal, with such big meaning and I can't believe they just washed over like that in the show. I can't even get over it.

So with them changing and already using so many things from book two, I am a bit worried about how the second season will continue if I’m being honest.

Junior Mint! I wish they would have explained his meaning. I really do. They should have explained this situation rather than ruining the necklace situation.

I thought it was so odd that Belly basically had three different boys in the tv show, pretty much at the same time.

I hate the fact that they made her hook up with Jeremiah and suddenly made her have feelings for him. Because in the book that came much slower. Jere confessed his feelings, knowing that she was very much in love with his brother and when that was confirmed by Belly he backed off. More out of hurt but yeah I wish they would have kept it that way.

The whole Jeremiah/Belly thing was so unnecessarily rushed in season one and I really wish they would have waited and given it more time to develop in season two instead. Because for me that just made it super unbelievable. How will they change their relationship now?

#tsitp tv series #tsitp spoilers #the summer i turned pretty spoilers #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp season 1

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

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BTS Tarot Reading ➝ What Kind Of Porn Do They Watch? (18+)

↳ NOTE - due to several requests, a steamy and detailed one. ☕️ we’re asking the cards about the erotica they fancy in a wider sense.

warning ⚠️ 18+ // bdsm mentions, worship, kinks left and right. we’re going graphic in all types o’ ways, lads.

♡ DISCLAIMER // tarot is speculative, there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are fictive and for entertainment purposes only.

SPREAD #1:

yoongi

⌈ THE WORLD ⇁ Jesus... Someone’s obsessed with girls in the nude. That card has a stark naked woman wrapped in very little satin on it so you know what our funky little guy is up to. Luscious aesthetic fotos might be just around his corner. Big duh, he’s a photography major. These folks are all about body appreciation. He’s also on a personal vendetta against lingerie 😂 Yoongi won’t get hard looking at even the most HD panty and bra ads. Only the skin in its full splendor will do, no editing. He loves pictures of nipples peaking through shirt fabric, it’s all over his phone. Yoongi likes his gals without underwear 24/7 just like he dislikes underwear himself. If we’re talking porn, the woman on the card is holding two very long rods so may I connect the dots: Threesomes, handjobs, blowbangs, spitroasting. Friction, friction, and more friction. To Yoongi’s brain, handjobs are a great um new version of holding hands. Sex standing up also, keeping it vertical. Yoongi doesn’t care about girth, inches count. Nice and elongated with a perfect plunge, something to hold onto. Yep, he’s pretty deliberate when searching that up. Yes, he loves the look of it. However, and you’ll be surprised: Even if he likes poly porn, it’s still nothing too extreme. This card is more about pleasure than pain. If a guy likes rough and degrading sex, you get swords and wands in his spread. THE WORLD is more about perfected skills and success. So, he likes the more accomplished porn stars. With a preference for curly blondes and redheads, that’s sort of the hair color on the card. Natural B or C cup. Medium height, not too curvy. Oversized booty not needed. In terms of nationality: We have three representative animals on the card. Eagle, lion and bull, plus a light blonde man’s head. So, anything that America/Germany/Albania/Mexico/Namibia (and so on, lot of countries with eagles as their national bird my dude), England, Spain and Scandinavia have to offer. Honey sugar is going international, baby.

hoseok

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS ⇁ Did I just mention that guys who like rough sex in porn get wand cards in their readings in Yoongi’s segment? Well, there we have our candidate, with a very obvious card since it’s a court figure. Now, the thing is, this is not the guy being rough. The QUEEN OF WANDS is as notoriously femdom as can be. The very fiery and raw and fun version. So, with a degree of lightheartedness, but still being very fit — even buff — and hands-on with the sub. If you get the QUEEN OF SWORDS, that’s the more cool and calculated domme who signs you up for torture and humiliation, and she really looks like a domme. She’s all over the internet because she has the grit. Now wands combined with a tarot queen... it’s more about the stamina and she is approachable. Hobi does not like watching cruel girls, he likes challenging ones. Upbeat porn stars who can take a lot but most importantly dole it out assertively like pros are Hobi’s schtick. He’s unapologetic about that. With him it’s like, please not the local newcomers that turned legal a month ago. The queen cards are all about mature women. Mommy kink, hint hint. The kind of mommy who’s gonna whip out the spreader bar or cane (= wands again) and give a playful type of punishment. See how desert-like that imagery is, Hobi wants to sweat big time when he gets off to this. Now since wands also make for a damn good pole to dance on, go figure. This whole card has me wondering if, well alright, he is a Cardi B hard stan 😅 If Hobi blasts Money to get in the mood, I’d not be surprised. Anyway. Back to pole stuff: If you go through his youtube search history, you will find astounding things. I think he watches the more professional and athletic performers in competition though. High production value is key. Finally, an interesting card detail: There’s a sunflower on it. This is definitely his kind of tarot imagery.

jimin

⌈ KING OF COINS ⇁ This card always looks like a scene from a medieval movie so you might have an erotic film enthusiast here. The more chaste type of genre, pentacles are very grounded and not hypersexualized. The intimacy is slow and more about security and pleasure. It’s graphic and detailed, but gives you a sense of relaxation. With a bit of romance in the plot, that might absolutely be Jimin’s thing. Castles and wine and nobility. Interesting type of erotica. Historical and classy. As expected of a prince, mind you. He might enjoy books of that genre also. And we know Jimin is an avid reader, right up there with Namjoon. Now, even with more risque and contemporary stuff that he googles up, we have similar dynamics going down on screen. With Hobi we had femdom because it’s a queen card, now with Jimin we get the classic male dom type of porn because that’s how the King usually rolls, unless it’s the KING OF CUPS who’s touchy-feely and subby. Meanwhile, the KING OF COINS is your local sugar daddy. Leaning towards being a soft dom, he’s not aggressive. And Jimin surely has a little crush on that concept. Ye know, if all the other members have female cards and Jimin gets the sugar daddy, we might be dealing with mxm action. Because if this card was a porn star, he’d be a really, really rich producer and a bear who’s done this since the frickin’ 90s. He’s treating his subs very gently and lets them sit on their lap, the imagery is sort of like that because the King is balancing a pentacle on his left thigh. Sex and comfort all in one are life for Jimin. A sexy detail I only noticed at a second glance, the King also has a shortened golden staff with him, which has a rounded tip. If that’s not a butt plug… whenever I see props like that in tarot, I interpret it as a sex toy. So, good vibes in here. And a bunch of aphrodisiacs, the KING OF COINS is a foodie. Which you know, might just be a food porn type of reference. Jimin’s taste in sexy things is quite something else.

jungkook

⌈ THE EMPRESS ⇁ If there’s one thing I like, it’s the Tarot giving me the important archetypes during readings of that kind. The Queens, the Kings, the Major arcana (see Yoongi’s and Jin’s segment). You can really draw a lot of hints out of it. Now with the EMPRESS you have a similar case to Hobi’s, just a lot more softcore. Jungkook has a refined and pretty vast taste in erotica, if not the most refined in Bangtan next to Jimin who likes that kind of dignified touch to it as well as we saw. Jungkook knows his stuff when it comes to searching things up, he is a first class netizen in that regard. In terms of genre: The EMPRESS is your highkey feminist and wholesomeness legend, so — you won’t find any super creepy things in some hidden file on his PC, and things by female producers instead. No slut-shaming or name-calling here, everyone gets their pleasure in their own right. Thanks to online sex ed, Jungkook has a map to the clit and he’s not afraid to use it. He’s the type to watch solo videos ad nauseam. He’s fascinated. Masturbation until it gets all messy with the juices flowing, and you bet he wants to see the girls buzzing themselves off lying on their back. Maybe even outdoors in a field. Cum play is a must, cunnilingus is a must, he loves unprotected sex and creampies, he loves breast massages. And yes. Anything that involves sex with pregnant and chubby women. Similar to Taehyung, it’s all about the focus on the girl, he doesn’t bother much with the guy performers. And given Yoongi’s reading on top of that, we have three members in BTS who are all about worshipping the female body right here, breasts over ass, and he likes blondes, too. The EMPRESS card is like… the entire porn industry who does the MILF and BBW genre is financed by Jeon Jungkook’s website subscriptions. Cue GOT7, with Jungkook it’s girls, girls, girls. The thirst is going strong, and he’s unashamed times ten, sex is sex.

➝ we also have members who don’t really bother with erotica or have a complicated relationship with it.

SPREAD #2

taehyung

⌈ ACE OF WANDS reversed ⇁ He’s not about beating off until the world ends. Taehyung gets bored by porn or heated literature and doesn’t feel very motivated to search it up. He would rather come up with his own ideas to write but doesn’t have the energy. Sex drive: On hold, even if he tries to look something up it doesn’t feel very fulfilling to him. Most of it fails to turn him on, it’s not his kind of taste. He gets frustrated when he masturbates and would rather rest, dream, and doze. The only thing I can see him watch somewhat frequently — hold your horses — is lesbian porn. I’ll explain. The ACE OF WANDS is pretty much your most glaring handjob symbolism card. A hand gripping a stick. Yoongi’s THE WORLD card has very similar imagery, I mean even two wands and a girl, bisexual explosion much. He would be a big fan of the upright ACE OF WANDS card lmao! But the reversal is like, um no silly guys jerking off in here, pls. Keep your cum to yourself. That means: Zero dicks in Taehyung’s zone, girl-on-girl stuff is his very last resort for quality that he is desperate for but cannot find. And not the stuff where the producers just replace the guys with heavy arsenal sex toys, double-ended dildos, fucking machines, endless strap-on action without any clit stimulation on either side and whatnot. Taehyung is like ugh, cherie, why, give me the juicy stuff, give me the basics. What he wants is just pure scissoring, fingering, oral, little gentle bites, a lot of caresses and kisses. And slow, slow sex. Probably the amateur kind. He hates how brutal and exaggerated most things online are. Tae is looking for softness, a lot of lesbian action is what delivers in that regard so he takes all he gets. And it goes further than that, Taehyung knows the finest yuri recommendations, I’m telling you.

seokjin

⌈ THE STAR reverse ⇁ The opposite of Yoongi: not keeping it very naked in here. The upright card shows a nude woman pouring water from two cups. Hence a strong connection to the card of sexuality, TWO OF CUPS. Everything is very gentle and positive in that scenery. But then, the reversed card rather shows us that Jin doesn’t feel too thrilled watching other people film or write or photograph sex. Like in Tae’s case, he becomes bored, it’s all the same to him. Nothing’s ever new to him in porn. He feels negative and guilty rather than refreshed or entertained. He also doesn’t like a lot of kinks that very literally connect to, well, the pouring water. Squirting, cum play, watersports, sex in the pool or showers, lube overuse, creampies, bukkake, fake cum — Jin is rolling his eyes at that, he thinks it’s a circus. He’s surely given it a try, but ended up feeling worse and even more pent-up or dissatisfied. At best, you will find him on unknown websites looking for the most amateur videos there are. Because: THE STAR quite unequivocally hints at porn stars. If you reverse the card, it becomes someone not very well-known. He roots for the underdog. Accordingly, Jin’s reaction to mainstream videos goes this way: ‚Pipe down, you non-artists!’ 😆 Cause maybe, he does do it better aye, without the awkward angles anyway. He doesn’t want the body cult, like, put that airbrush and silicone out of my face bro. Not because he’s against surgery, but the idea behind sexual extremes and the shady high standards. It’s too polished for him to get turned on. And robotic/staged. Likely because he’s had an IRL sexual experience (gasp!) that set a different ideal to him, so the more glossy porn feels off. Home video has all he needs instead. I think it’s especially because you get so see more body hair there. The woman on the THE STAR card is all sleek, so the reversed card is the opposite, Jin wants that unshaved goodness.

namjoon

⌈ EIGHT OF CUPS ⇁ Now you’d think — and I thought, kinda — we’d get the master of erotica right here. And he’s had one hell of a reputation for that. Think of the ever-infamous Yaman TV interview where BTS were super upfront and revealing about their taste and what they watch privately. With especially Namjoon having the lion’s share. But this card says otherwise if his current state is concerned. The EIGHT OF CUPS shows a man wandering off into the night, leaving eight cups behind him. I think what that means is, he’s moved on. Namjoon’s cravings aren’t as strong as they used to be, nor does he have the time. He knows it won’t fix his loneliness or answer the questions of life. He might be on the search for different things to fulfill him, or ignore much of his hormones in favor for his career. Not that he didn’t dabble in it, he sure did, but that chapter is slowly closing and what’s next he doesn’t really know yet. He thinks about family and being a father, so the smaller and more risque pleasures become less significant. Desire, too. Ye olde soul syndrome is kicking in. The card is also centered around introspection, a quest for self, all these higher topics that aren’t the most grounded and don’t leave much space for being horny. Joon is simply to preoccupied and on the move. He sees porn as a distraction from his real self at this point, and he’s not the type to feel satiated after masturbating to something, similar to Jin and Taehyung. Instead, I think he carries that energy elsewhere, hence the wanderer going from A to B onto a mountain. In short, Namjoon naturally grew out of it by becoming more, well: Namjoon. He’s left a lot behind, he’s choosing self-development over temporary fun, and he will ponder a lot on the topic, the hows and whys and whats more often than not. So, he’s passed the baton to Yoongi and Jungkook if you will, and keeps a low profile as of now.

tarot mlist | ko-fi

----

for anon:

#bts tarot #bts #bangtan #bts smut #bts tarot reading #tarot #long post

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themagicalmysticalboy · 3 years ago

Note

PLEASE do that bob&george oneshot there's barely any content for them I love your stuff!!! :D

a/n: in which George and Bob Dylan are v e r y high on acid. this is technically closer to what a shroom high is like as opposed to an acid high but who cares abt semantics, right?

You've Really Got A Hold On Me

The flower pattern on the wall was doubling and tripling into a never-ending spiral, budding and blossoming in the blink of an eye. John joking and making the intimate circle of people laugh brought the wallpaper’s movements to a slow end. George took in a deep breath, grounding himself. Brian was to his right with his knees to his chest. Cynthia fell to his left, cuddled up against John. Leaving George directly in front of his friend.

They all sat around on the floor as the party around them went on. George wasn’t quite sure what John said but the flame of Cynthia’s lighter dancing strangely as she lit a spliff was enough to have him giggling. A wave-like sensation followed and tumbled through his body pleasantly. His fingers were a retreating tide, stretching impossibly long as he fiddled with a tune on the guitar only to come back to normal. He curled and uncurled his toes, feeling them roll like a carpet being put into storage. His whole body could be a rolled-up carpet for all he knew. Wouldn’t that be nice? But then again, carpets can’t hear and George was quite enjoying the music at the moment. Someone was playing a familiar song on the piano but the name of it couldn’t be placed.

Before he really understood his thought process, he was standing and his guitar was propped against a chair.

“Where you off to?” John was looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and a far-away smile.

“Duh know.” George laughed at the realization and let his feet guide him away.

Enough acid, alcohol, and weed had gone around that the party was nearing its peak. Whose party? At whose house? For what occasion? No clue. The important thing was that it felt warm. And not in an uncomfortable way. More like an excited hug from a long-unseen friend. Vibrantly dressed people filled the room and lined the walls. Some melted into the floor while others didn’t even touch it. Music was still going and Paul’s voice belted lyrics with the tune of the piano. He wasn’t visible in the crowd of people but he sure could be heard.

Swiping a drink from a serving table, George strode through the crowd and ascended a set of wildly painted stairs. Two birds sat together, painting a step with a bottle of sparkling nail polish. They didn’t look up as people passed. They only saw each other as they practically sat in one another’s lap. George rather liked when people did that- got lost in each other. He excused himself to pass and moved along.

At the top of the stairs, a couple rushed into a room in a fit of laughter and kissing. The door slammed behind them as George went by. The sound hit every inch of his body like a brick wall and suddenly the fringed lamps were giving off the worst lighting possible. When he tried to breathe he found that the warm hug had turned into a stranglehold. With the chug of his drink, George took swift strides down the hall. Tension rose in his muscles and tendons with each movement and the lights only got brighter and brighter, threatening to blind him. Finally, he opened the very last door at the very end of the hallway.

New energy from the space calmed him almost immediately. The glow of the lights somehow tasted much kinder in there and no one else was occupying the space, save for a tabby cat.

“You mind the intrusion?” He addressed the cat. It responded with a short meow and settled on the couch, unbothered. “Ta.”

The door clicked closed, sealing in the soft vibes. The art studio he found himself in was covered with finished and half-finished work. One piece still sat at the easel with nothing but a messy black background. Paint and drop cloths cluttered the space around the easel and couch. The floor was a beautiful and giant daisy, splattered with freckles of stray paint. George laid himself down on a delicate white pedal and took in the energy of the room. He felt yellow and orange bursting in his chest and behind his eyes.

There was a rhythmic knocking at the door. It echoed and bounced until it was all George could hear. The muffled chatter and music from the party fell away to the knockknock, knockknock, knock. The orange in his chest fell way to blue which melted into yellow seamlessly. He wasn’t very sure how to respond to the knocking, so he didn’t.

The door creaked open, regardless, and George slowly sat up to find a mess of curly hair on top of a small frame. “Bobby,” He greeted with a toothy grin. “You’ve got to ask the cat if you can stay.”

“Oh, man. Really?” Bob smiled, awkwardly removing the cigarette from between his lips though both hands already held drinks. “Well,” he asked the starring tabby, glancing to George as they both tried not to laugh.

The cat hopped from its resting spot and rubbed against Bob’s trousers. He looked to George to see if he had passed.

“Oi, well, now you have to leave. They like you more than me.”

“Apologies to your ego,” He stated as he sat in the center of the daisy and placed one cup in front of George before taking a sip of his own.

“I’ve got a drink, actually.”

“I’m sure yours isn’t water.”

The green vibrations romped around George and he took up the water appreciatively. “I feel romanced.” And he kind of meant it though his tone made it seem more of a jest.

Bob only hummed, placing his cigarette back between his lips. He leaned back on both hands to stare at the ceiling, casting his features into the soft yellow lighting. Both his legs were laid out flat, one foot on either side of George. “It’s loud down there. I couldn’t feel - see - anything right, you know? The noise was a cloud over my eyes.” Smoke poured from between his lips, delicately floating into the air.

“Mmm, suffocating like.” As Bob rose his head up George realized he hadn’t been seeing right either. A radius of color encapsulated him, dancing softly above his skin. It shimmered around him in an impossible display of greens and yellows. He saw nothing like it when he was downstairs. “Blinding too, yeah.”

“You Beatles are hard to find. You, Ringo, and John, at least. If anything, Paul’s hard to lose.”

George rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. God. He really hadn’t seen anything before this very moment. “Paul’s good for company ‘til he finds a bird to fly off with or gets bored,” he answered listlessly, lost in the explosion of color and energy before him. “Do you see all the colors?” He had to ask, even if it sounded a little silly out loud. “You’re as good as a rainbow.”

Bob gave a youthful grin and tilted his head. New shades of blue and green and yellow spun out from around him. “Yeah. You look like the sun just as it’s rising.”

The flow of energy between them felt magnetic, compelling George to move closer. Once they both occupied the bright yellow center of the daisy- George’s legs overtop of Bob’s thighs- the pull finally settled.

“You think it’s our auras,” he asked as he rested his hands above Bob’s hips.

“All I know is that I can see all of you.” He said as his eyes flicked between George’s eyes and mouth. “I could taste your favorite song on your lips.”

Though he fought to keep a straight face, his lips defied him and curled into a smile. He bit down on his bottom lip in a vain attempt to gain control but quickly gave up. “You think so?”

Bob nodded ever so slightly and cupped the side of George's face. His calloused fingertip gently rubbed his cheekbone. “Can I…?”

They were almost nose to nose already. It took so little effort to close the gap that George barely registered that he had done it at all until their lips grazed and a bolt of lightning struck through his veins, illuminating the room so brightly that George could see the pale yellow through his closed eyes. His fingers curled into the fabric of Bob’s shirt as he pressed into the kiss.

When they parted Bob’s head fell onto his shoulder, his hands circling George to clasp behind his back. “Hold me, please. Hold me, squeeze, hold me, hold me,” He sang softly, his usual folksy vocals nowhere to be found. “You really got a hold on me. I said you really got a hold on me.”

George gave a breathy chuckle and did as the song called for, holding Bob tighter in his arms. “The Miracles. Can never go wrong there.”

Bob raised his head and they kissed again before George repositioned. He tugged Bob along with him until they were both flat on their backs, laying on the same flower pedal, hand in hand.

After a while, Bob pressed his head into George’s. “How long do the colors last?”

“Probably another hour.”

Bob rolled on his side and George turned his head so they could meet eyes. “What even is an hour?”

With a quizzical glance at his own fringe, he surmised, “Somewhere between five seconds and an infinity.”

“Perfect. We’ll lay here ‘til then.”

#i’ve never written bob before so i don’t really like his voice in this but hopefully i’ll write him more and get better #george harrison #john lennon #cynthia lennon #brian epstein #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles one shot

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headoverhiddles · 5 years ago

Text

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store.

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want.

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil?

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk.

"She was looking at you."

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs.

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says.

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.”

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs.

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them.

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?”

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest.

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?”

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?”

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.”

He laughs as he follows you to your locker.

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.”

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again.

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little.

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear.

“Brian... Bri, make me c--”

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?"

"What, you thought I was a virgin?”

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me."

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell.

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it."

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles.

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.”

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--"

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.”

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!”

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

Text

DMs

Pairing: Ben Hardy x F!Reader

Summery: You run a nsfw snapchat account. Ben's horny.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), partially written as chat text, video chat sex, masturbation, fingering, sex toys, nipple play, voyeurism I guess, fuckboy ben

Words: 3774

A/N: Inspired by something El posted. I love Ben but he’s got them fuckboy/lad vibes and im positive he’d get down on some sc porn

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely

@veriloquently

Your phone buzzed, the familiar noise distracting you from your book. Considering you’d just posted a new photo, partially hidden by emojis, to Instagram and updated your snapchat story with the uncensored version, it was hardly surprising you were getting messages.

YourNewDaddy: Mmm baby let me pound you

You clicked through to his profile. Absolutely nothing. The profile picture was some abs that could belong to anyone. No recent snaps, nothing. For a few seconds you considered replying with your payment details but decided against it. He wasn’t worth your time.

The whole NSFW account thing had started a while ago on Tumblr and then Instagram. A way to kill time and get some attention that you weren’t receiving in the real world. But then the porn ban had happened which severely limited what you could post, so you’d mostly moved to Snapchat, using everything else to advertise. A few months after the move you started getting guys offering to pay you to do specific things. One had wanted an audio recording of you calling him Daddy and begging for his cock with a few moans thrown in. Another had wanted a video of you and a dildo, though he’d had to pay more. Since then you’d used your accounts to pick up a bit of extra cash here and there. Nowhere near enough to live off of, but it came in handy.

You clicked back out of the app, put down your phone and went back to your book, hoping someone entertaining would at least comment on the photo soon. Barely half a page later another ding pulled you away. This time Instagram.

Benhardy: Just came over you

Quick and to the point. Fuckboy energy. You clicked onto his profile half expecting another faceless timewaster. No description or links to other sites but he had a profile picture. And some fifty odd photos. Not many posts considering his million followers but at least you knew he was a real person. You scrolled through his feed trying to put gather what info you could before you responded. Lots of photos of himself sometimes with friends. A few that were clearly modelling jobs or, more likely considering the movie trailers and saved story called Oscars 2019, promotional photoshoots for magazines. And he was a proud dog dad. Definitely attractive. You wondered briefly why someone so handsome was getting off to half dressed girls on Instagram but put it out of your mind as you opened his conversation up again. Who cared why as long as he was talking to you? After all, he was hot and willingly giving you attention. Plus, if he was an actor or whatever he probably wouldn’t mind paying for something special, once you’d given him a taste. The only question left was how to approach the conversation.

You: Really? That’s so flattering!

You: Kind of wish you’d cum over me for real tho, bit bored

Benhardy: dirty girl

Benhardy: could probably think of some way to keep you busy

Benhardy: you’re fit

You: haha aww thank you! I post more often on snap if you wanna follow. don’t have to hide behind swimwear and emojis there. easier to chat too, unless you prefer kik or something

He didn’t reply. You frowned at your phone wondering if you’d shown your hand too soon. Perhaps you should have kept up the flattered damsel act a little longer, waited before mentioning Snapchat. Maybe he wasn’t looking for a chat, just genuinely wanted to compliment you, even if it was in a gross slightly derogatory way. Or maybe he just got cold feet. You sighed as you swiped back to check what other people had been sending you. A few more ignorable accounts, a couple messages you didn’t like enough to respond to straight away. And then another Snapchat notification.

Ben Jones: had to create an account but I’m here

You: oh! you’ve changed your name

Ben Jones: Hardy’s the stage name lol

You: hmmm hardy… little bit of a pornstar name

You: or could be if you changed the ben part.

Ben Jones: that’s my backup plan in case actual acting doesn’t work out lol

Ben Jones: not too out of place right now tho

You: haha that because of me?

Ben Jones: maybe. loved the photos in your story you’ve got great tits

Ben Jones: kinda wanna see you pinch and pull on them

And so it began. You leaned forward to pull your shirt off and then settled back against the pillows, running your fingers around your nipple until it was hard. Angling the camera towards your chest you pinched your nipple between your thumb and forefinger, rolling it between them. The camera clicked as you took a photo and then clicked again as you tugged your nipple away from your body, hissing a little at the pain.

You: Like this?

Ben Jones: perfect

Ben Jones: really are lovely tits.

You: surprisingly don’t hear that much irl so ty

Ben Jones: u don’t? criminal

You: lmao yeah but that’s what I have you for

Ben Jones: happy to help

Ben Jones: What are you wearing?

You: Just a pair of knickers now

Ben Jones: sexy

Ben Jones: can I see?

You: just the knickers or the whole look?

Ben Jones: whole look first

Ben Jones: then just the knickers so I can see the wet spot you’re making

You wriggled against the pillows, shuffling further down the bed. Long ago you’d learnt which angles were the easiest to take photos in and which were the best to show off your body. A full body shot was easiest when you leaned your phone up against a stack of books or something at the foot of the bed and used the timer on the camera to get a few shots of you kneeling. It left your hands fee to squeeze your tits if that seemed appropriate or slip into your underwear, or to put behind your back in a pose that seemed innocent but actually pushed your hips and chest forward. For Ben though you felt something that appeared a little more casual would be appropriate. You lay back, head raised slightly on your pillows, feel flat against the mattress so your knees were in the air and pressed together. Carefully you positioned the camera, wrist twisted a little to get the angle just right. You brought your free hand up to your breasts, pulling your nipple again since Ben seemed to like it, and snapped a photo. The shot of your underwear was easier, legs spread, pushing your hips up slightly to get a clear shot of the wet patch that had been slowly growing since the start of the conversation, though a little added saliva to make it more obvious didn’t hurt. He wouldn’t be able to tell.

Ben Jones: hot

Ben Jones: like got me so hard again hot

You: does that mean I get a picture in return?

Ben Jones: Only if you take your knickers off for me

Ben Jones: wouldn’t be fair otherwise since im not wearing underwear😉

You took your time sending him a new photo and got one back almost straight away. You would have scoffed at his eagerness to show himself off but, with a body like his you couldn’t really blame him. You zoomed into the photo, trailing your eyes over every inch of it. Messy blonde hair, though whether it was intentionally messy or just like that from him grabbing it while he jerked off over your photo you weren’t sure. Gorgeous eyes, heavy lidded and a little fucked out. One arm behind his head as he lay on his bed. It looked carefree and spontaneous, like someone else had taken the photo at the very moment he looked at the camera, but it showed off the muscles in his arms too well to be coincidence. And speaking of muscles. The boy was a fucking Adonis. You were instantly struck by the desire to drag your nails down his chest and leave a trail of hickeys and bite marks all the way down to his toned stomach and tight waist. You clenched your thighs together at the thought as you slowly revealed the bottom half of the photo. He had his legs outstretched though one was more bent than the other, knee jutting out to the side. Almost too casual to be casual, especially with the way he had his hand wrapped around his cock, like the photo was taken mid stroke. You couldn’t help linger over that particular part of the photo. It was a lovely hand, big with noticeable veins, exactly the sort that could make you weak in the knees. And the same could be said for the dick it was holding. You wondered briefly where this Ben guy had come from and what you could possibly have done to catch his attention.

Ben Jones: is that silence because you’re so impressed

The message made you roll your eyes. Hot he might be, but he was still just another desperate fuckboy looking for a naked girl to drool over and a quick orgasm.

You: well I’m not not impressed

Ben Jones: no need to be shy. just say you’re imagining riding me and I'd understand

You: wasn’t before. Am now.

Ben Jones: what were you picturing before?

You: doggy

Ben Jones: be happy to let you try both and compare.

You: let me film it and watch the tapes back to study your game?

Ben Jones: wait this is dumb.

Your frowned at your phone. For such typical guy, the sort you’d dealt with so many times before, Ben sure was hard to pin down.

You: what?

Ben Jones: you comfortable doing live chat?

Ohhhh

You: umm sure thing

Ben Jones: you don’t have to

You: i know that. you couldn’t force me to even if you wanted, beauty of doing this online. i just don’t do live very often. or I charge for it.

Ben Jones: that desperate for me?

You: you caught me in a good mood

You let the call ring for a bit, wanting to make sure Ben understood how in control you were and how much more he needed it than you. But eventually you picked up, settling back against your pillows. Ben seemed to be in a similar position, leaning against his headboard, the screen showing you his face and bare shoulders. “Hi,” “Hi,” his voice was deeper than you’d expected, thrown by how soft and, dare you say, feminine his features were, and yet it suited him perfectly. You could only imagine how that voice would sound growling out sexually charged complements, the thought appealing enough to have you pressing your thighs together. There was a moment of silence as you took each other in, not quite sure how to continue now that you’d switched from text. “So you going to show me how wet you are?” Once again his demeanour had you wanting to roll your eyes though you refrained, “No.” “No?” His confusion was entertaining to say the least. So many of the men who contacted you assumed you were going to be outright submissive and meek, taking whatever photos they demanded and doing everything they told you to with a smile and a yes sir. So proving them wrong, defying them, taking control, that was fun. Almost an aphrodisiac in its own right. Sometimes you’d eventually submit, play the brat and then let them win, and if they were paying it was a different story. But Ben struck you as the kind of guy who could use a little more pushback. Probably used to getting his way, having his pick of the litter. Lord knows had he hit on you in real life you probably would have agreed to whatever he wanted just to feel his hands on you. But here, on your profile, you had the power. Plus, in the back of your mind you suspected that being a little more assertive might just make him more interested in seeing you submit and maybe a little more willing to pay for the pleasure. “Not yet.” “Bit of a bold move considering I could just go find someone else to look at. There’re these things called porn sites, yeah?” “But they’re so impersonal. Isn’t this more fun?” He paused, eyeing you, and then let out a breath, “You got me there.” “Figured, since the video chat was your idea and all.” “Just got sick of typing one handed.” “Mmhmm, sure.” “So are you going to show me your cunt then?” “Eventually. But what’s the rush?” you stood up, making sure to let the camera dip just a little so Ben got a quick flash of your chest. “How about I’m hard as hell and want to get off?” “You’re not the only one who wants to get off so just hold your horses for a second while I get my toys.” “There are toys now?” You could see Ben’s shoulder move as he started to stroke himself again. “Told you to hold your horses. Stop touching yourself.” Ben’s arm stopped its movement though he seemed a little taken aback by his own obedience. “Good boy,” you watched for Ben’s reaction, not disappointed as he swallowed hard, his cheeks going pinker than they already were. That was interesting. “Yes there are toys, you wanna see?” “Do I get to pick which ones you use?” “Maybe,” “Go on, show me then,” You flipped the camera around as you opened your chest of draws. There wasn’t much in there, a couple different dildos and vibrators, a set of nipple suckers, mostly things you’d bought to fulfil requests guys were paying you for. You picked up the nipple suckers and held them up to the camera. “I assume you’d like to see me in these since you liked watching me play with my nipples.” “Mmhmm, absolutely. Also want to see you with a dildo. You got one with a suction base? Might tell you to ride it the way you’d ride me,” he seemed to be doubling down on the pull for control after you’d seen his reaction to being told what to do, determined to put you in your place or whatever. “Unfortunately, no. But this one will do,” you took hold of a silicon dildo, pulling it from the draw, “Don’t think it's as big as you but it does vibrate and that’s guaranteed to work.” “I’ll allow it, though I think we both know I’d be better.” “I’m going to ignore that,” you said as you turned the camera back towards you and headed back to your bed, settling against the pillows again. You propped the camera up against a pillow so Ben could watch as you placed the suckers over your nipples, whimpering at the sudden taught feeling. You picked the phone back up, giving Ben a closer view of your boobs. “They suit you. And you can ignore it all you like but when you start doing what I say and I let you fuck yourself into your third orgasm I’ll remind you. Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you where you can meet me in real life and show you exactly how good I am.” “You’re a cocky one, aren’t you?” “In every sense. If I remember correctly you were speechless at the sight.” “You’ve got a bad memory, Benny boy.” Slowly you let your fingers trail down to your pussy. You didn’t believe he was as good as he thought he was – you’d dealt with too many overconfident wankers, both in real life and online, to believe another one – but the game you’d fallen into, the back and forth teasing, not entirely sure who was in control at any one time, was arousing to say the least. It was certainly one of the less predictable conversations you’d had recently. “If not speechless then certainly wet. Show me your pussy, wanna see you touching yourself.”” “Who said I’m touching myself?” you slipped a finger into your entrance, trying to keep your breathing even.” “You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are. So show me.” “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Ben gave you a fleeting look, eyebrow raised, before his camera flipped and you were once again looking at his hand wrapped around his cock, red and leaking precum. You turned your camera too, making sure he had a good view. “Add a second finger for me.” You did as he asked, “You been a good boy and not touched? Or do I have to tell you off for misbehaving?” “I didn’t but it wasn’t because of anything you said. Just didn’t want things to finish before I heard you beg me to cum.” He began to stroke himself, keeping in time with the slow pace you’d set as you pumped your fingers in and out of your pussy. “Sure,” you panted, adding a third finger, “so if I told you to stop now,” His hand halted. “Well aren’t you just so obedient,” You removed your fingers from yourself, reaching to grab the dildo, “you wanna see me fuck myself properly? Watch me cum all over this toy, pretend it’s your cock making me moan?” “God yes,” his voice cracked a little, fingers twitching against himself as he briefly let the cocky, controlling persona fall away. It didn’t last long, “Show me how deep you can take that cock. C’mon, I know what a fucking slut you are, getting off on people watching you.” You didn’t bother arguing, sliding the dildo along your dripping folds before pressing it into yourself with a whine. “Wait, hang on a sec.” The was the sound of shuffling and the screen went black as Ben moved around but, eventually, he flipped the camera again and settled back on the bed. He’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of himself, letting you see every inch of him from his face to his hard, leaking cock, “better?” “Oh much, hang on I’ll do the same," you carefully pulled the dildo from yourself and sat up, leaning your phone against a stack of books on your bedside table and then adjusting your pillows in front of it, “we good?” “Yeah, take the nipple things off though, wanna see your tits properly.” You did as he asked, letting out a soft moan at the sensation. Ben chuckled, “God I can’t wait to hear how loud you moan imaging how hard I’d fuck you.” You slid the dildo back into your entrance, slowly pumping it in and out of yourself as you brought your other hand up to squeeze your breast, “mmm, you look so pretty when you’re all needy Benny.” It wasn’t a lie, between his lust blown eyes, flushed cheeks and soft pout, Ben looked incredible and it only turned you on more, “Want to show me how needy you can get? Want me make you beg?” “Faster. Harder,” he ignored your questions in favour of giving you another order but you were sure you’d heard his voice crack just a little. You sped up, whining with each thrust, Ben’s hand matching your pace as his slid his thumb over the tip and spread the precum over his length. “Fuck your wet, I can hear it. That all because of me?” “Maybe a-a bit. Also just like, fuck, being watched,” “Turn on the vibrator and rub your clit,” Ben’s voice was husky, impossibly deep and rough, “don’t stop until I say.” You moaned as the vibrations started, angling the dildo to rub against your g-spot on every pass. “There you go, being a good little slut. Gonna cum how I tell you to.” “On-only if you cum how I tell you to.” You almost let the dildo fall from your grasp, so shocked were you by the whine Ben let out, “Like that idea? Want me to tell you what to do? If I told you to stop and watch me would you?” “No,” he said, steadfastly sticking to the game although his hand faltered and his voice had mostly lost the controlling edge he’d had before, all desperate, whiny need. “N-not sure I beli-eve you.” “Please don’t stop. Wanna cum so bad,” “I know y-ou do Benny.” “You close?” “Yes, fuck Ben, so close.” “Cum for me, come on, be a good slut and cum,” “Not. Yet. Play with your balls Benny, wanna see you cum first.” His gasped turned into a strangled cry as he ran his fingers over his testicles before lightly squeezing them “T-turn the vibrator higher,” Neither one of you were in control anymore, too caught up in getting yourselves and each other off, though you were both determinedly looking at the screen, watching each other. Ben’s lip was caught between his teeth, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he let out some of the prettiest moans you’d ever heard. It only served to push you closer to the edge, your own moans escaping as you bucked your hips rhythmically in time with the dildo moving in and out of your cunt. Ben finished a split second before you did, your eyes glued to the white now painting his stomach as you held the dildo in place, its vibrations making your toes curl.

The was a moment of quiet as you both collected yourselves, the only sounds his panted breaths and your soft whine as you removed the dildo from yourself, and then Ben spoke. “Fuck that was hot.” “Yup,” “I thought your tits were good enough to wank over but Christ. That’s gonna keep me going for a bit.” You laughed, relaxing as your heart gradually fell back to its normal rhythm, “Well not too long I hope. You’re fun and I’d be happy to chat again sometime.” “Did I see in your bio that you take commissions?” “Yuuup,” “Huh, well, I’ll keep that in mind then.” “I look forward to it,” “Well, I should be off then, gotta clean up,” he gestured to the mess drying on his stomach. “Yeah, me too, maybe have a nap. That really was fun though so next time you’re bored or whatever hit me up. If you’re lucky I’ll let you boss me around. If you’re luckier I’ll do the bossing,” “I’d like to see you try,” “That whine you made says you’d enjoy it quite a lot,” “My whine? What about yours? Needy little brat.” Guess you’ll have to come back and settle this then.” “Guess I will. See you later.”

#my writing #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #hope ya'll like this #hope i made him enough of a fuckboy #and that it makes sense and everything #i wrote the first half real quick like last month #and then took a break from it to write curtains 5 #and then found it kinda hard to get back into it #but i think im happy with it #anyway #gonna be more benny content coming soon #im so very deep in my feels because of all this 6u content

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g-perla · 4 years ago

Text

The ACOTAR Series is a Romantic/Gothic Horror Stage and Only Nesta Got the Memo

Not even SJM knows what’s going on.

Ok, this is going to seem off the rails but bear with me.

So I'm a big fan of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (top 5 books and all that jazz) and I was thinking about it because it deals with themes of the Other and the supernatural, Nature as Character, the overlap of the animalistic and human, blurring of established binaries...fun, Romantic shit like that. Interestingly, this overlaps with how SJM illustrates her world and characters a lot of the time, hence why I was considering it while working on my Nesta project. I’ve mentioned before that Nesta really gives me Byronic heroine vibes and that’s a character construct of precisely this literary tradition.

I started thinking about Heathcliff and Cathy and how they're ridiculously extra and just feel the most intense emotions towards each other but also towards literally everything (nothing half-assed ever, this is a Romantic novel after all). I then remembered how so many people ship them, but like in earnest, in a totally aspirational way. It's not a #cursed ship to them at all. It's...romantic to them not Romantic. I even read often that people quote it at their weddings, specifically the infamous "two souls" quote.

Then I had an epiphany. I was like "wait, what if SJM is one of those people?? What if she has the energy of a Cathy/Heathcliff earnest shipper and that's why all her ships are messy??" Because if that is the case, my friends, oh boy oh boy would it explain so much. I will post some sections from Wuthering Heights:

Doesn’t the acotar series seem like a 1/50 dilution of that energy?? And that is barely a taste of all the spiciness this book has to offer. To illustrate further: SJM gave us the F/eysand suicide pact and the near-death battlefield Nessian scene. One is certainly more outlandish than the other, but both are the result of intense emotions. To that Emily Brontë raises the following: Heathcliff asking the sexton to dig up Cathy’s grave to see what’s up because her ghost has been haunting him since he personally dug up her grave 18 years prior and she has been haunting him ever since. He later demands to be buried in the same exact grave when he dies so they can decompose together. They both married other people though which only adds to the mess. (I am not lying to you the Romantic tradition really gave us these gems lmao. As an aside, Mary Shelley was also a writer of the Romantic tradition and she confessed her love to husband Percy Bysshe Shelley on her mother’s grave. Her mother was liberal feminist icon Mary Wollstonecraft by the way which only makes this even more amazing. Additionally, biographers believe that the Shelleys also had sex there. Talk about Romantic 😉.)

Then I had ANOTHER thought! (Dangerous)

If we read the series from the point of view of just another YA high fantasy things might get a bit boring because the world-building is honestly lazy and the magic system is pretty soft, which isn’t a pre-requisite in high fantasy (The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system) but it's not the norm and it doesn't pay off in this series. Not to mention that the plot is pretty lackluster and derivative. To add to that the romantic and sexual relationships are questionable in their healthiness and consequently are the source of much argument in the fandom.

But, dear reader, if we think about the ACOTAR series as being a sort of thematic and ideological 21st century YA homage to the Romantic tradition of the 19th century (within which Gothic Horror also lives), things get REALLY, REALLY SPICY.

No longer do we just have a romance fantasy with messy, hyper-emotional, animalistic characters who constantly partake in morally grey situations rife with dubious dynamics. No longer does plot really matter. No longer do we require quasi-scientific descriptions of the world and the magical system. No! All that matters now are the characters and the mood. Now we have potential! Add a lot of Nature ambiance: expanses of dark woods, great mountains, the unknowable and sublime energy of the ocean, a violent rainstorm/hurricane/tsunami, an impending snowstorm whose intensity reflects the growing emotional intensity of the characters as the story goes along (I’m looking at you impending snowstorm in acofas that curiously matches the growing complexity of Nesta’s emotional state). Blur the lines between any imaginable category: life and death, human and animal, known and unknown, Self and Other, beautiful and monstrous, good and evil, masculine and feminine, the list goes on. Most importantly make your readers uncomfortable by frustrating their desires to sort things into easy binary categories and don’t apologise for making them question their assumptions about the world, morality, gender, and any other kind of previously constructed Order.

Basically write the story with Dionysus-in-a-Greek-tragedy energy and bring to us mere mortals artful Chaos.

Once that is done we can have a literal Romantic/Gothic Horror story. The Acotar series could have been this unapologetically, with the added element of being told through the eyes of the "Cathy" character instead of through the lens of a third person getting second-hand accounts about what went on. This whole series is honestly enough of a chaotic mess of Byronic-like heroes and heroines and cursed familial relationships that it could have been that. That alone is peak entertainment. The problem, however, and the main reason why I can’t really say that this series truly delivered this wackiness is that SJM committed the act of not fully committing to the bit (very un-Romantic of her, I know). Now, I am not saying that SJM actually intended this. I’m just saying it really could have accidentally been this genius with some tweaks. Unfortunately, she made the crucial mistake of trying to justify too much, trying to make things too neat, too tidy, too sensical (in other words: the reason we really can’t have nice things).

I could end this here, lamenting the potential of what SJM had set-up for us were it not for one element, one gift:

Nesta

OHOHOHO DO THINGS GET GOOD HERE SO BUCKLE UP

Most of the characters refuse to fully commit to the bit in their desire to satisfy modern sensibilities, by which I of course mean they want ridiculous things like political power, to conquer lands, to be a Girl Boss, to get married, have kids, celebrate holidays, converse about mundane things, be relatable, etc. You know, pretty pedestrian stuff that only requires a bit of genetic luck, a sprinkle of energy, and the right circumstances within the world of Acotar. I would like to reiterate the beginning of this paragraph: most of the characters.

Let’s say you’re stubborn and you decide to still read the series through the lens of the Romantic/Gothic tradition, what happens then?

The most hilarious thing (for the Nesta stans that is. The antis would probably hate this)

Nesta, based on what we know about her through Feyre and the limited amount of other scenes, is the only character who really takes the performance seriously. She's the only one that SJM hasn't managed to confine through justification. Nesta just shows up and simply refuses to make sense (her POWER what a queen 👑). She is endlessly fascinating because she just exists in her world on her terms, established categories be damned, and in this manner she frustrates not only the sensibilities of the characters in the stories but those of the reader as well. This double duty is, I suggest, the result of the other characters not fully inhabiting the nebulous world of Romantic characters and thus being a little too plausible and understandable even if they are not justifiable.

Ok, you may say, but I relate so much to Nesta. I do understand her. I don’t justify all of her actions, but I understand where she is coming from. (You’re not alone, friend. I like to think these things too. Alas, we are but plebs).

To that I reply; Nesta does things, certainly, and we can spend hours trying to explain through extrapolation, educated guesses, and personal experience why she did those things, but the fact is we really don't know why. We are never explicitly told. Our insight into who she is and her motivations comes predominantly from the understanding of her youngest sister and from our own interpretation of the actions she takes. I must make clear that our own interpretations are rooted in pre-established assumptions about what is sensical and orderly in our own world and in our own lives. We cannot interpret with the tools available to us that which may be, by definition, unfathomable. It is simply paradoxical. Nesta, as we currently know her, is a construct derived from a limited number of scenes and our interpretations and projections of these scenes. Even the scenes where we get third person narration don’t explicitly tell us her motivations and her logic. For all we know there really is no comprehensible reason for her actions and that is endlessly amusing to me in how utterly Romantic it is. Acosf may and likely will change this of course, but as it stands, Nesta is a whole Romantic character. Her divisiveness in fandom and in the narrative could be due in part to her refusal to fit the discrete categories available in her world and ours.

Isn’t that wonderful?

To illustrate this a bit more I will share some details SJM gives us about her/ elements she sets up that fit in with the characteristics of the Romantic tradition (these are not exhaustive by any means):

The absolute pettiness (and extra-ness) of being so angry at her father’s inaction that she is willing to starve to death to see if he does something.

How in Acowae she is described as shifting between emotions as if she were changing clothes and feeling everything too strongly (probably to the point of destruction)

She is constantly being compared to animals, even when she is still human. Granted, SJM compares everyone to animals, but that strengthens the blurring of lines between usually discrete categories. It is still most powerful when used as a comparison when she is human because it dehumanises Nesta.

Often, SJM describes her characters as forces. Forces of nature, for example. Acofas is full of details like this in relation to Nesta. There is a storm brewing leading up to the solstice party and it is in full swing when she arrives at the townhouse. The language used there suggests that Nesta herself may be the storm (against the onslaught of Nesta). It really adds to the Maleficent energy tbh.

She is often associated with death post her transformation

She is Other even to Others. She was Made like Elain, Feyre, and Amren in a sense, but the process of her specific transformation differentiates her greatly from the others. As it is, she doesn’t fit in anywhere

Her intense attachment to her femininity and its expression are at odds with the ideas and assumptions about the performance of womanhood and a woman’s role in her world and even in ours. She is unapologetically feminine in her physical presentation, but her character, her thoughts, and possibly even desires transgress the unwritten rules of acceptable femininity (unfortunately there still are abject expressions of femininity in our ‘”progressive” mileux

She displays in many of her actions a disrespect towards authority and to the status quo. This is particularly notable when her intensely polarised sense of right and wrong is aggravated.

Her self-destructiveness. This is referred to most strongly in Acofas, but I would say she was remarkably blasé about self-preservation in Acowar as well

She is described as intelligent, cunning, ruthless, attractive, and prone to debilitating extremes of emotionality. All of these are characteristics of Byronic heroes, a subtype of the Romantic hero

Here are a bunch of quotes that touch on many of the elements that I have discussed above:

“I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory...Who had shrouded the loss of our Mother, then our downfall, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared--beneath it she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.”

--Acotar, emphasis mine, note the strong emotions. This is a recurring element for Nesta.

“Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe...Only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.”

--Acomaf, animal comparison

“Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield--like the ones Rhys has in his mind.” “Against what?” “Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything--sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”

--Acomaf, emphasis mine

“I knew that she was different [...] Nesta was different [...] as if the Cauldron in making her...had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking the Cauldron with her.”

--Acomaf, Nesta had her own plans for the Cauldron what a queen

“Something great and terrible.”

--Acowar, referring to her eyes. Oooh, spooky Nesta 👻

“The day she was changed, she...I felt something different with her [...] like looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.”

--Acowar, a two in one here: difference + animal comparison. Boy does SJM really go heavy when establishing Nesta as Other.

“‘Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones...’ Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. ‘But...I see the kernel, girl.’ Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. ‘You did not fit--the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed.’ A little nod. ‘I know--what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’“

--Acowar, show don’t tell gets thrown out the window here, but it is useful for the present purposes

“What if I tell you that the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something--something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?

What came out was not what went in [...] How lovely she is, new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter’s sunrise.”

--Acowar, who knew rocks, darkness, and the sea were such gossips, but look how many connections to nature! To be compared to the sea, a significant example of the sublime, is peak Romanticism. If any of you have read Moby Dick, think about what the ocean and the white whale might have represented there and how that might relate to Nesta.

“I think the power is death--death made flesh.”

--Acowar, Feyre referring to the possible nature of Nesta’s power. Alluding to her powers possibly being related to death is quite significant because that is something most of us cannot comprehend, nor can most of the characters. For Nesta, a “reborn” but very much living character to have death associated with her is a strong blurring of the lines. The case of her being labelled a witch is similarly significant as it solidifies the elements of the supernatural while simultaneously comparing her to pretty much the only exclusively female-coded monster in western pop culture. I will touch more on this when I do my study of Nesta through the framework of Barbara Creed’s Monstrous Feminine.

“I am not like the others.”

--Acowar, we love a self-aware queen.

“Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian’s eyes, and angled her head.

The movement was not human.

Not fae.

Purely animal.

Purely predator.”

--Acowar

There are a lot more details and quotes that support this interpretation, but I didn’t write them all down in my archived notes. This post is obscenely long, however, so even though there is more to be said, I’ll leave it for another day. If you made it this far you really are an MVP and probably love Nesta to a concerning degree like me. Please rest your eyes if you’re actually reading this 😂

I’d love to read about any other takes and thoughts that might have come to your minds after reading this monstrosity,

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

huevos rancheros

pairing: chef!bucky x plus!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity

word count: 1778

Description: chef!au; bucky makes breakfast.

just a taste masterlist

Sunday mornings had been especially good lately. The sunlight filtering through the curtains, the apartment quiet, the sounds of the neighbors not stirring, a couple of honking cars on the street below seemed muffled by the arm around your waist. The body at your back protects you from the sun’s rays. His soft snores the only sound you could really focus on. Hair tickling your cheek from where it fell from the bun he’d put it in to sleep.

In your stretch, legs uncurling and muscles moving for the first time in about nine blissful hours you could hear his snoring stop, fingers curling in your t-shirt as he breathed heavily, burying his face back into your neck and pulling you closer to him, wrapping his other arm across your shoulder.

“G’mornin.” His voice raspy and well slept. Lips soft and pouted with sleep pressed gently against the skin of your neck.

“Hi.” His blue eyes half-lidded met yours. His lips softly pressing against yours.

He’d been spending a lot of time at your apartment lately. It was a little nicer than his, a little less of a bachelor pad and more of an adult living space. He had a drawer. His toiletries sat next to yours in the shower, on the shelf next to the sink. His toothbrush, his electric shaver, a jar of hair pomade and so many discarded elastics. He had a couple pairs of shoes next to your door. Two of his jackets hung in your hall closet. Next to your bed, on the nightstand sat the book he was currently reading. It sat on top of his iPad that he used to look at new recipes and shoot off emails before bed.

It happened slowly before you’d even realized it had happened.

But you didn’t mind at all.

“You want coffee?” He whispered against your cheek, pressing a kiss to the skin there before pressing a kiss to your jaw. You hummed in response, he squeezed you to him tightly for a moment more before slipping from bed, your door left open you could hear him pad to the bathroom first. You spread across the bed, starfishing out stretching the last bit of sleep from your body before following him out. The tv was soft and rambling. The news showing the weather.

“What did you want to do today?” You asked, taking the coffee from his hands and taking a seat at the kitchen island. The scars on his left arm extended partially onto his torso. The skin rippled underneath the florals, his shoulder and back darkened purple, blue, and gold with constellations. He shrugged,

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.” Your coffee was made exactly how you like it, he took a sip of his own before continuing, “Or we could go to the Village, Wanda runs a niche little bookshop there, she’s been asking about you.” You’d met the redhead in passing once, the sweet vibrant, boho woman was Sam’s wife. Which seemed a little crazy seeing as he was a little straight laced from the military, he did a lot of VA work, ran the food truck. But once you saw the two of them together, they meshed so well.

He stands between your legs, fingers brushing back a well slept mess hair out of your face, “Or we could stay in,” His lips tasted like the bitter black brew he’d been drinking, “Watch a couple movies,” Another soft kiss, “Maybe take a nap.”

“Either one would be good.” Fingers laced, he rested his forehead on yours. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, enjoying it, not fully awake. Still sleepy and wanting touch.

“How about breakfast first?”

You’d teased him multiple times about it. How elitist he was about food. Bucky was a very, “I’ll make it from scratch,” Kinda guy. There were a box of mason jars in your pantry that he kept for when he wanted to make something, rosemary salt, compound butters, and what he’d made a couple days ago that he wanted to get rid of. A deliciously spicy and well flavored salsa. The jar is about half full. The two of you having used the other half a couple days ago when you’d had a dip night.

It had been a night where he’d been trying out a couple recipes for dips that they wanted to offer on the menu. Some spicy cajun flavors melded with crab, spinach, a vegan artichoke, something with roasted red peppers and a load of garlic. The two of you had put on the Bachelor and dug into the various pots with tortillas, chips, baguette, and naan. This salsa he’d made for fun, just to have. Something simple and delicious.

He used it now with breakfast.

Black beans, a whole chopped jalapeno thrown in with onion and red and green peppers. Soft and bubbling. He’d cracked two eggs into a pan, basting the top with butter to get the white fully cooked but the yolk soft and runny. Corn tortillas toasted on the open flame of the gas burner, turned deftly with fingers he didn’t have much feeling left in. Put on a plate, tortilla, beans, the veggie mix, eggs laid on top. Leftover queso fresco from tacos he’d made last week, and a large spoon of the salsa.

Coffee was switched out for orange juice. A couple of spare tortillas on a plate between you just in case you needed them. He brought your leg into his lap, hand left on your thigh as you ate your breakfast, idly chatting about the new space they’d found that they think is the one. The one for their restaurant.

“It’s gorgeous,” He told you, “A real industrial space, two floors so we could probably do the resturant and the kitchen downstairs and maybe just have an upstairs bar for tapas.” They had a plan, Sam and Bucky. Their vision synced for what they wanted for the restaurant. All it came down to was pinning down the menu.

“Sam is from New Orleans,” Bucky's fingers entwined with yours while you walked to the subway. “And I’ve always loved Cajun food and that’s why we did the Connect NOLA food truck.” You stood against his chest, arms around his waist while he held onto the bar taking the train into Manhattan.

They were going to bring Connect NOLA into this restaurant. The themed truck, they were looking for an interior designer to bring in the green, gold, and purple—tastefully— into the industrial restaurant.

Fingers intertwined you walked hand in hand down two blocks to a new age looking shop with books in the window. The decor was witchy and gorgeous. The dark distressed wood shelves, the colorful intricate carpet. It was messy, but in an organized way. Herbs and flowers hung dry behind the register, a glass case with crystals and stones. There were comfy well worn chairs spread throughout the store. A small stand with a keurig that seemed the most modern thing in here. Other than the tablet with the card reader plugged into it on the front desk.

You marveled at the sight of her. Wanda was gorgeous. Her red hair was currently piled on top of her head, she wore a dress with a long skirt, the strap of the loose cotton dress half slipped off of her shoulder. Of course she would be a woman who could forego a bra and be fine. A brush of jealousy as she grinned at Bucky, unfounded jealousy. But she was wafish, thin, gorgeous, and married to his best friend. You knew you were being ridiculous. So you shoved that feeling aside.

She bypassed Bucky coming to you, “Oh it’s so good to see you.” She wrapped you in her arms, pulling you in tight. The faint smell of incense and patchouli on her.

“You too.” You couldn’t help but smile back. She was so genuine. She gave off such a pleasant and welcoming vibe you felt foolish for the jealousy just a minute before.

“I’ve been telling Bucky to bring you around for weeks.” She took your hand, pulling you over towards the counter, “He said you want to be a writer?” You felt your cheeks flush, looking back over at your boyfriend who rested his arms on the counter, looking at you innocently.

“I’m not great,” You shake your head, “It’s just a hobby.” You laugh nervously, brushing Bucky’s hand off your arm as he tried to soothe you from the little embarrassment he knew you were feeling.

“She’s good.” Bucky nods, grinning, “I’ve read some of her stuff.”

“When?” You turn to him in a glare. “When did you read anything?” He shrugs, playing with the little cloth bookmarks on the counter, avoiding your eyes.

“You left it open the other night.” He looks at you impishly, “I couldn’t help myself.” The little bit of anger you’d felt in your chest dissolved when he took your hand, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin there. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for.” You roll your eyes lovingly, looking back at Wanda who was smirking.

“I’m okay.” You say, “I’m not a bestseller.”

“Yet.” She grins, “Not yet.”

You’d left with a couple of books at a steep discount, well worn and scribbled in the margins as used books usually are. Bucky held the fabric tote in his left hand while you were tucked under his arm, waiting for the take out you’d ordered, the small shop barely fitting the two of you and the group that had just walked in.

“You’re a great writer.” He whispered into your hair. “I really liked it.” You hummed, turning your face to his.

“You’re not embarrassed that I’m writing a Lord of The Rings style romance?” He laughed, kissing you softly.

“Nah, I kinda liked it.” His fingers wiggled against your side, tickling you. “And it’s a cross between fantasy, romance, and drama.” Another kiss against your forehead this time. “I’m excited for the sex scene that seemed to be coming up.” You scoff, acting offended trying to push away from him which makes him hold you tighter,

“I’m not putting a sex scene in my book.” You laugh, he wiggles his eyebrows, smirking at you.

“Just for me then?” You roll your eyes, he pulls you tightly into his chest, wrapping both arms around you, “Write it just for me?” A slow languid kiss you felt all the way down to your core. And then another. Your order number was called, your half lidded eyes meeting his, pupils blown wide.

“Maybe.”

taglist // @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil @tinmunky @gifsbysimplysonia @alwaysbenhardysgirl @albinotigerpython @93generation

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #chef!bucky #plus!reader #sam wilson #wanda maximoff

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btsunniemoonie · 5 years ago

Text

Enchanted under the Snow (M)

⤳ author: Admin Sunnie

⤳ pairing: Teacher!Min Yoongi x Virgin!Reader

⤳ rating: 18+

⤳ warnings: dirty talk, a little dry humping, virgin kink if you squint (mention of blood because Y/N’s a virgin), cock warming, Yoongi has a giant cock

⤳ genre: smut, fluff, 90s AU

⤳ songs i’ve listened to while writing: richard hawley - darlin’, urge overkill/neil diamond - girl, you’ll be a woman soon

You never really had something for events like this. It was only a way to gather some students together, the popular students having fun like always and the ones who weren't as lucky as them had to sit around the tables, awkwardly sipping on the non-alcoholic beverage, looking around with curious eyes.

You were neither of them.

You had your little group of friends which consisted of three boys, all in the same age as you and in your class, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin. They all stood around you and in a tiny corner of the big gym, sipping on their punch and talking about how the popular people danced together, here and there dropping a joke and making all of you laugh.

Their company was the reason why you even were there – that was what you tried to talk yourself into, but you knew better.

You knew exactly why you were here and that exact reason stood a few meters away from you, clad in a dark blue suit, fitting to the motto of this year's winter ball, Enchanted under the Snow.

His dark hair fell messy into his face, his pretty nose was up high as he tipped down the deep red beverage that was in his cup, his lips slightly red due to the liquid, but not that you minded that at all. His face was sharp, just as his eyes, which skimmed around the whole gym, trying to make out if anyone was breaking the rules or if something happened that shouldn't happen. He had a strong presence, he always had and he always oozed an authoritarian vibe which often made you tremble in your seat when he talked about the story of Dorian Grey.

It made him look all the more delicious, the way he talked about something that fascinated him. It ignited a spark in his students, but most importantly, he sparked something in you, something that you never felt before. It was an addicting feeling and such a forbidden one too – you found yourself fantasizing about his plush lips often, especially on lonely nights, imagining how wonderful his lips must feel on around your throbbing cli-

“Hey, ___, you're drooling.”, Jimin suddenly snapped you out of your unholy thoughts and you grumbled a little, trying to tear your gaze away from the beauty and sipping on your cup, making Jimin laugh gleefully.

“You're still into the literature professor?”, Jungkook asked you surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as he sent the aforementioned one an obvious look, causing you to grab his arm and yank him back so he was looking at you again.

“Could you maybe shut up?! I don't want everyone to find out, geez, what's going on with the two of you?! I am not crushing on him!”, you tried to defend yourself, your cheeks flaming up and your words coming out way too fast, your face betraying yourself completely.

The three guys in front of you only shared a look and then grinned mischievously.

“She's still totally into him”, Taehyung declared, the other two boys nodding in agreement. “And she isn't even subtle about it. C'mon, ___, you can do better than that. I watch you every time we have him and I know your I would fuck you look way too well.”, Jungkook suddenly said, making you look up at him, puffing your cheeks out.

“And why do you think you know how that look looks? We're both virgins, how could you even know that, huh?”, you tried to sound ignorant, but your tiny grin betrayed you – you already knew that Jungkook knew you better than that, you two almost grew up together as you were neighbours.

“It's the same look you give Johnny Depp when we watch 21 Jump Street and it's the same look I throw to Kim Namjoon.”, he stated quite bluntly, making you and the other two boys gasp at Jungkooks statement. You knew of Jungkooks crush on Namjoon, but did he really have to call you out on Johnny Depp? That was just mean.

“Are you crazy?! What if anyone hears you?!”, Jimin tried to scold the younger one, but he was way too distracted by the football star of the college, who was currently dancing with the head cheerleader.

“Let a bitch dream”, Jungkook sighed, his lips slightly pouted before he looked to the side, the sight of his crush dancing with someone else making his chest ache.

“But anyways, who wouldn't look at Johnny Depp like that? He's a fucking feast and you know that”, you quickly pulled the conversation back into another direction, not wanting your best friend to mourn over the college's jock.

Taehyung agreed, tipping his chin a little bit, “I have to agree. I can't say anything about Johnny. He's just hot.” Jimin shrugged but then nodded too, “Definitely. I don't think anyone could turn him down.”

“See Jungkook! It isn't only me who gives him that look!”, you grinned triumphantly, you eyes sparkling a little bit as you thought you had him now.

“Still doesn't change the fact that you look like that at Mr. Min too.”, he quickly destroyed your tiny win, making you all tiny once again and looking to the side.

“He's right. Just admit it. We all know you want him to pop your cherry.”, Jimin now said, his lips around the rim of his cup, looking to the side and trying to not look into your eyes – not to challenge the beast in you you inhabited sometimes.

At Jimin's audacious statement you gasped angrily, your cheeks already red by now but at that moment you didn't know if it was because of anger or embarrassment or both.

“Y'know, I don't need to listen about the three of you accusing me of something that isn't true. I'll go get myself something new to drink, maybe you'll decide on another topic than the non-existent interest I have in my professor!”, you huffed angrily, throwing your head back and sending the three a bitchy and mean glare before you walked to the self-made bar, taking the ladle of the big bowl and putting yourself in some of the punch.

“Stupid fucks”, you muttered to yourself, watching the three from safe distance grinning at you stupidly. Why were they grinning like that either way? They should feel ashamed! Teasing a girl like that wasn't a sign of chivalry, it was a sign of ignorance and being an asshole or, them just being your best friends.

Because despite them teasing you to no end, you did the same to them too and you loved them for that, all three of you knew how to handle each other and they knew you didn't mean it truly – although you maybe meant it 5%.

When you peeked to the three again, they still didn't look away from you with their stupid grins all plastered across their faces. What was going on? Did you have something on your dress? Was there a stain? You looked down at yourself, not seeing anything on the light blue fabric, frowning to yourself. What the hell did they want from you?

You huffed once again and turned around, wanting to take the ladle again and just when you took it your eyes fell onto it – seeing the lithe fingers already curled around the ladle, your fingerpads touching the soft hand of the one and only man that occupied your thoughts since he started to teach at this college.

“Oh, Miss ___, you wanted to drink something too?”, his dark voice caressed your eardrums, the music in the background suddenly not feeling so obnoxiously loud anymore, everything sounded dull compared to his voice.

“Eh-eh yeah b-but y-you were there first-so d-drink please, Mr. Min!”, you stammered and cussed at yourself mentally. Were you totally dense? Were you a little middle college girl who wasn't able to talk to someone she found pretty?

But Mr. Min wasn't someone you only thought was pretty. Sure, he was pretty, beyond that, he was absolutely ethereal with his coal eyes and pitch-black hair, his marble-like skin, and his virile features, but there was more to him. He was so intelligent, so well-spoken and just overall perfect that you couldn't help yourself, you really were head over heels falling for him, although he was your professor and several years older than you.

He chuckled darkly at your little stutter, shaking his head softly and pouring some punch into his cup and then into yours, making you nod thankfully while sporting a slight blush. He stepped next to you, sipping on his cup and looking around, pushing one of his hands into his front pocket, your eyes scanning him from bottom to top.

“I really thought anyone would try to get some alcohol in here.”, Mr. Min suddenly started, his eyes straying to the sports jocks, “Are they that good at hiding it or am I getting older?”, he asked you now, chuckling a little bit at your flustered and shy behaviour, especially as you gently shook your head at him.

“No, you aren't. The kids who drink alcohol are probably outside at the nearby park, laughing about us students who are here and dance.”, you commented and Mr. Min hummed slightly, “Ah, is that so? So you aren't one to drink?”

His question caught you off guard and you looked up at him with big eyes, shaking your head a little. “Never was the one to. I once tried it put I really didn't like the taste. I stick to my juice boxes.”, you admitted, now way more relaxed in front of him, as something in his voice always was able to settle you down. You just got caught off-guard when he suddenly touched you. You still felt the slight buzzing feeling on your fingertips and you had to admit that you liked it more than you should.

Mr. Min laughed at that, this laugh was different than the chuckle before however. This one was genuine and a little gleeful too, obviously very amused by your words, his eyes crinkling the slightest bit, “That's good, you shouldn't start to drink as early as I did. My liver never thanked me for that.” The way he laughed made your chest all warm and your cheeks too, the butterflies starting to fly in your stomach and your head starting to get a little dazed, dazed by his damned charming self.

Now you were the one who giggled a little bit, your hand coming up to cover your mouth a little bit in a scandalous manner, “Don't tell me you were the one to party, Mr. Min!”

You sounded more flirting than you wanted to and you were surprised yourself, but the way his eyes sparkled for the fraction of a second as he heard your words, obviously getting the flirtatious tone and not being opposed to it, your heart hammered uncomfortably fast against your chest.

“You wouldn't believe it, but yes, I was. My roommate Seokjin and I were known for making the best drinks on campus and as everyone knew, we always got invited to parties.”, he gave you a tiny look into his college life and you listened to him attentively, not even caring that the three boys still looked at the two of you more than obviously.

“So you always had fun, huh?”

There was an obvious suggestive tone in your voice and you didn't know why you were so daring, did anyone put something into the punch or where was this new confidence coming from? Or was the need to have your cherry popped by the one and only Mr. Min so big that you threw all your morals away? Was he worth that?

When you looked into his eyes you already knew that he was, because he held your gaze relentlessly, the tension between the two of you palpable and without missing a beat he huskily replied, leaning a little down to you, “A lot of fun in every way you can imagine.”

He was so close you were able to make out the tiny moles on his flawless skin, his voice making you visibly shiver and your lips parting the slightest bit, “O-oh”, you stammered quite intelligently again, looking away all flustered and red-cheeked, your heart beating fast against your chest. All the newfound confidence was gone and that just because he leaned down to you and looked into your eyes? How weak were you? You truly hoped the guys didn't see you and when you looked up, you noticed that they indeed were gone, just as most of the guests of tonight's college dance.

It was already after 11 pm and you and the guys promised to meet outside to go to your homes again and although you truly didn't want to go and leave Mr. Min like that, you knew that you had to, unless you wanted all three of them to bitch about it until the end of college.

“I-Uhm, have to leave.”, you broke off the tension and the moment you shared with him, “The guys will be waiting for me I am sure, we wanted to go home together.”, you apologized to Mr. Min and he nodded at you, his eyes staying on your form as you walked out of the gym and on the college's parking lot, your eyes scanning the whole place.

As you didn't see any of your friends, panic bubbled up in you. Did they just leave without you? You couldn't make out the Hyundai Stellar of Jimin's and just then it dawned on you. Did they leave you there because they thought you wouldn't come home with them? Were you and Mr. Min that flirting that obviously?

You tried to fight the blush down your neck, gnawing on your bottom lip and asking yourself what to do now. The ride home was usually a ten-minute ride, but when you'd walk it could easily evolve into a thirty-minute walk, especially when you wouldn't take the short ways and you wouldn't walk through the parks. But was it was this late, you didn't want to go home alone, an uncomfortable feeling creeping up on your shoulders and the cold feeling too. You truly had to leave your coat in Jimins car, right?

Just when you were about to cry you heard a familiar voice calling out for you and you turned around, Mr. Min standing in front of you, clad in his big coat, his Mercedes keys in his right hand.

“Did they leave without you?”, he asked you, a soft tone to his voice and you nodded pitifully, his face softening as he took in your shaking and tiny form.

“I can give you a ride home.”, he offered you and walked up to you, taking off his coat and putting it around your shoulder, engulfing you in his delicious scent, your thoughts getting hazy and dazed again. “I would love that.”, you smiled a little at him, the tip of your nose a little red due the cold, the leaves around you still falling to the ground although there wasn't even a breeze. You followed him to his dark Mercedes and he held up the door for you. Ever the gentleman, you thought as you entered the car, smelling something that was undoubtedly him, making you oddly excited and realize that this was going to happen.

You just got into Mr. Mins car and he was about to drive you home. For ten minutes you'd be totally alone with him and in such a small space too. The thought alone made you absolutely excited and you couldn't really hide it. Too often you dreamed about how it'd be if you'd ever have the luck of being completely alone with him and now that you truly were, you found yourself drowned in unholy thoughts. How nice it would be to be squished against him in such a small room, how nice it would be to feel his skin against yours, how nice it would be to hear his dark voice muttering the dirtiest words there were. It didn't take long and you started to rub your thighs together in an attempt to ease the tingle that started between your legs.

“We have to wait until the motor gets warm”, Mr. Min suddenly said, the low noises of the radio slowly merging into the background. You looked up at him with big eyes, almost feeling like he caught you doing something that you weren't allowed to. But you only saw his fingers curled around the steering wheel, his knuckles slightly white due to the force of it. Why was he grasping the wheel this hard?

Yoongi asked himself if you truly thought he didn't notice the way you eyed him down and how you rubbed your thighs together or if you did it on purpose, wanting to drive him mad because you knew exactly that he wasn't allowed to act on the obvious attraction he had for you. He often had to reprimand himself when he looked at you too intensely when you were working or when he rutted himself to sleep to the thought of you.

He knew it wasn't right and he knew that it wasn't legal too – it was frowned upon, even if you were in the legal age to have sex with him. Those thoughts weren't good and Yoongi knew but still, he couldn't help himself when you looked so delectable right next to him.

You two were flirting earlier and you both knew. It was obvious, very much at that and he thought the tension back in the gym hall was quite big but now, now that he was in the car with you and in such a small space, he almost choked at the tension and you did too.

“Mr. Min”, you murmured quietly, your voice nothing more than a whisper but loud enough for Yoongi to hear, so he looked to you, his eyebrow raising the slightest bit, “Hmm?”

“Did you put on the air conditioner? It's getting so warm here..”, you mumbled, sliding off Yoongis coat and sighing as soon as the air hit your bare skin, slightly fanning some air to yourself, very glad that you chose an off-shoulder dress for this occasion.

“You were freezing earlier, I had to-”, he started and wanted to turn it off, but you stopped him, your fingertips touching his once again, a slight buzz going through both of your hands, “Don't put it off. It's okay. I like it warm.”, you smiled a little bit and let your fingerpads wander over his hand, making Yoongi shiver for a moment, your eyes meeting for what felt like an eternity. It was at this moment that both of you knew that something was going to happen tonight and both of you wanted it too.

“___... What are you doing, hm?”, he asked you when you started to touch the collar of his button-down, his eyes focused on you, especially as you started to touch his throat all curiously and carefully, “I am touching you, Mr. Min.”, you said innocently, tilting your head a little bit, “Am I not allowed, Mr.Min?~”

He keened a little into your touch, letting you touch his throat to your heart's content until he felt your fingers fiddling with his deep blue tie. Within seconds he grabbed your wrist, looking deeply into your eyes while leaning closer to you. He knew what you wanted and he knew that he wanted it too, the temptation of the forbidden fruit so close to him, driving him almost insane, but he also knew just how wrong it was.

There was a tiny thread that held him to his morals, that screamed at him to just bring you home and stay away from you, but there was a bigger part of him that wanted it. That wanted you, in the rawest form he could have you. You weren't just a body he wanted to own, you were a soul he wanted to mingle with, to get one with. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, only to open them again and look into yours, his eyes searching for any tiny evidence of doubt in yours.

But there was none.

“Do you want this?”, he asked you, his hand reaching out for you and engulfing your cheek, softly rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, watching your face which was illuminated by the street lamp in front of his car, your big and sparkling eyes looking into his relentlessly.

“I never wanted anything more than this, Mr. Min.”, you breathed out, leaning your face into his touch just the way you always wanted to.

Suddenly, he came closer to you, leaning over the gear lever, careful not to touch anything as he brushed his lips against yours, a tiny gasp leaving your lips. Was this how your first kiss was going to be? With your literature professor?

You smiled at the thought, your eyes fluttering shut as you closed the distance between the two of you, stealing a kiss from him and making it official.

You never thought that lips could taste and feel this good. This plush, this soft and this undoubtedly delicious, but maybe that was just because those lips belonged to Mr. Min. It was like a firework igniting between the two of you, your lips moving against each other, one of your hands finally being able to untie his tie, throwing it haphazardly onto the backseats.

Your fingers fiddled with the first buttons of his button-down, opening them and touching a man's chest for the first time, your other hand carding through his hair, making it even messier than before. His own hand came up to your hair, grabbing you by the base and pulling you closer to him, his other hand placed on your thigh and grabbing it firmly.

It felt marvellous, the way his hands felt on you and how you felt him up. His skin was absolutely perfect, it was soft and you were able to make out with a few touches that he kept his body in shape, his chest being a little harder. A tiny gasp fell from Mr. Mins lips as soon as you brushed his nipple, pulling away from your lips and looking into your eyes.

His cheeks were flushed, his eyes hazy and his lips were kissed red. You bit down on your bottom lip, letting your eyes wander over his messed up hair and his opened button-down, rubbing your thighs against each other once again, the sight alone making your pussy throb with want.

You looked equally as out of it and Yoongi couldn't hold himself back, not when his pants got uncomfortably tight.

He undid his seatbelt, suddenly standing up and climbing into the back of the car, sitting down and finally putting off the jacket of his suit. He opened all the buttons of his button-down and spread his legs widely, giving you a perfect look on his hard-on. You salivated at the sight, how the hell was it even allowed to be this sensual?

“Come to your professor and let him take care of you”, he rasped into the air, making you jump into action and sitting on his lap, your the hem of your dress revealing more and more of your thighs.

You situated yourself perfectly on his boner, your clit throbbing against his pants, making you moan into his hold. Without hesitation he curled his arms around you, guiding you against his cock and causing the both of you to moan although you both still were completely dressed, your lips locked in a heated kiss, him intruding your hot cavern and starting to twirl his tongue around yours.

“Please”, you whined into the kiss, totally overwhelmed by the onslaught of feelings, the tingle between your legs only growing and growing, the grinding only making you hornier than more.

“Please Mr. Min. I want you.”, you whispered sensually, curling your arms around his neck, accentuating your statement as you ground especially hard against him, making him moan against your lips.

“I need to prepare you”, he hushed you, “Sit up.”

You did as ordered, sitting up a little bit and steadying yourself at the backrest of the seats just right next to his head while tilting your head to the side questioningly.

“Preparing me? Why do you need to prepa...-”, you wanted to ask him but got cut off as you felt his index and middle finger running up and down your already soaked panties, circling your clit and your entrance too.

“Mr. Min!”, you moaned into his touch, loving the way his fingers felt on your pussy and wishing nothing more than to rip your panties off so you could feel his fingers unfiltered, “Please! Put them away, my panties please!”

“It's my utmost pleasure”, he groaned and peeled your panties off your soaked cunt, grabbing the fabric that just hugged your pussy and ripping it away. Before you could even comprehend it or complain about it, he already had his fingers on your bare pussy now, causing you to let out a long and loud moan.

“Fuck, yes! Yes, Mr. Min, it feels so good please don't stop”, you begged, moving your hips against his fingers, him watching you absolutely endeared while he licked his lips.

“Do you like that, little dove?”, he asked you and you nodded frantically, embarrassingly close to your climax already.

“Yes yes, I love it! Please don't stop with it, I'm gonna-I'm gonna-”, you started to chant, your hips starting to move more erratically, coming undone underneath his fingers. You fell onto him completely, your face nestled against his neck.

You grabbed the fabric of the backrests violently and you threw your head back while Yoongi rode out your orgasm with his fingers, suddenly slipping two of them into you with elegant ease.

The feeling of your first orgasm slowly ebbed away and just then you felt it.

A slight stretch, a stretch that was so delicious that you immediately yearned for more.

“Mhhh Mr. Min”, you cried against his neck, softly kissing and licking at his skin, starting to hear the faint noises of the radio mixed with the squelching noises that undeniably came from your pussy, “Your fingers are in me.”

He nodded at you, starting to finger your squelching cunt, “Does it feel good?”

“It feels foreign”, you stuttered out, trying to accustom to the feeling how having something in you for the first time.

“You're a virgin, huh?”, he asked you, the tone of his voice not mocking, if anything, he sounded oddly turned on, “Never had fingers in that tiny pussy of yours, huh?” You moaned at his lewd words, nodding and fucking yourself on his fingers as the initial weird feeling transformed into a feeling of hot pleasure.

“Never had fingers in me, Mr. Min. Never had a cock in me, Mr. Min. Yours is going to be the first”, you mewled and he moaned at your words, scissoring you open, your juices staining his back seats but he couldn't care less. Not when you were this exposed in front of him.

“You're a naughty one, huh? Don't think I wouldn't notice how you gush on my fingers when I talk so dirty to you”, he teased you, a dark chuckle leaving his lips at your whine, his fingers suddenly reaching a point that made your jaw go slack and your sight to blackout for a tiny second.

The sound that left your lips was something that was foreign to your own ears and you grasped Yoongis shoulder to remind yourself that you were here, here with him.

“Fuck!”, you cried out, “What's-what's that?! Mr. Min, please touch it again, it's so good, so so so good!”, you babbled and Yoongis dick twitched in his pants, complying to your wish and rubbing at your g-spot while he opened his zipper with one hand, getting his cock out of the confines of his underwear, finally freeing it.

“It's your g-spot, little dove. And call me Yoongi.”, he demanded from you, but you only moaned around his fingers, not being able to make out anything else than a fire that ignited between your legs.

As Yoongi felt you clench around his fingers especially hard, he stopped, slipping his fingers out of you completely and smearing your juices all over his cock. You looked down and between his legs, watching him doing such a lewd thing, your eyes growing incredibly big.

“Your cock is so big.”, you gasped, looking up into his eyes again, “How is your cock going to fit?”

Yoongi couldn't help the dark chuckle that left his lips at your cute but yet so dirty words, “I prepared you for a reason, little one. Now lay down.”

With trembling legs you complied to his wish, laying down on the seats and spreading your legs willingly for him, even holding your dress up to reveal your dripping cunt to his hungry eyes.

“You look so innocent”, he murmured, tracing his fingers that were still slightly damp from your arousal over your cheek, suddenly grabbing the fabric that shielded your chest and yanking it down to reveal you bare in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight.

“No bra?”

“Very uncomfortable in such a dress”, you shyly said, your hands coming up to hide yourself but he stopped you with one look only.

“Don't hide when you just revealed your dripping pussy a few seconds ago.”, he commanded and you nodded at him, your hands reaching for him and making grabby hands at him.

He looked at you, enjoying the view of you so exposed and sprawled out for his hungry eyes only. It was a delightful sight and he truly never wanted to forget it, he wanted to see you like that over and over again. He wanted to make you moan and cry out, again and again, he wanted nothing more than to be with you fully.

“Please, make me yours Yoongi.”, you whispered and broke him out of his thoughts, slowly leaning over you and grabbing his cock to rub his head against your bare pussy.

You let out a moan, your cheeks all red and warm due to the onslaught of feelings you felt, throwing your head back and watching the fog collect on the windows of his car.

You were glad about that, this way no one was able to see what was going on inside of the car.

“Are you ready?”, he asked you and you looked back at him, nodding, “More than ready.”

He chuckled at that, slowly sheathing himself inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut at the stinging pain, your chest rising and falling rapidly as quick huffs and puffs left your lips.

Just when you thought it got a little better, the inched more into you and you let out a cry, arching your back into his hold, silently whimpering. At that, he slowly let his fingertips trail over the inner of your thighs, making your muscles relax more and more.

“Relax, little dove. I am here. Mr. Min is here and he'll take care of you.”, he whispered, slowly leaning more to you and talking against your lips. He waited for you to accustom more to his girth, himself having to control himself and not to fuck into your tight virgin pussy like he wanted to.

“Can I?”, he asked you hurriedly and you hummed in affirmation, taking a deep breath and taking in the last inches of him.

You never thought the feeling of being full felt this fucking good. It was like all you wished for, you felt complete, stretched to a painfully pleasurable point.

Yoongi gulped above you, his hands right next to your head to steady himself, waiting for you to give him a sign so he was able to continue.

After a while, the pain fully transformed into pleasure and you looked up at him, your hands on his chest, softly touching his nubs, “Please, move.”

And so he did.

He pulled out completely only to slap his hips right back into you, the squelching sounds now even louder than before, as both of your arousals and your blood made it more easy for him to move inside of you.

You moaned loudly and he did too, thrusting into you at a nice and steady pace, not too fast and not too slow, the whole car starting to move. He didn't want to go rampage on you on your first night, no, that was saved for other nights.

“Fuck, would you look at that”, he hissed, looking between the two of you and watching your pussy swallow his thick cock, “Your greedy virgin pussy is taking my thick cock so well, how can this be hm? How can such a tight virgin pussy swallow my dick so well?”

He felt you clench around his cock and his movements stuttered for a moment, “Such a whore for dirty talk, aren't you?”

You nodded frantically, curling your hands underneath his button-down and around his torso.

“Yes Yoongi, so much! My pussy is taking your cock so well because I was made for you, made for your cock, made for you to fuck!”, you cried out especially loud as he reached your g-spot again and you knew, you knew you wouldn't last long anymore.

He got goosebumps at your words, slamming his hips into you with more fervour now, always rubbing the tip of his cock against your most sensitive spot, “Mhhhm that's right. Your little pussy is made to take my big cock, right? Your pussy just wants my big cock, hm?”

You couldn't stop moaning, the feeling of him hitting your most delicious spots over and over again, the drool already dripping down the corners of your mouth. You suddenly felt how the knot in your tummy started to get tighter and tighter, tingles rising all over your body, the pleasure fogging your mind and consuming your eyesight too.

Yoongi felt how you suddenly clenched around him and held his cock firmly nestled in you and he bit down on his lip, “Are you coming?”, he gritted through his teeth, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge the more your walls sucked his cock in.

“Yes! Yes I am about to cum, please, please cum with me, Mr. Min!”, you broke out in incoherent moans, Yoongi keeping his pace up, the tip of his cock bluntly assaulting your g-spot and that was the last thing that you needed to cum undone once again, crying out his name.

For one moment Yoongi thought you'd cut his blood circulation as you tightened yourself around him that hard, he thought he was going to lose his mind, drilling into your dripping cunt and releasing himself in you in hot spurts, all the tension between the two of you finally exploding into the first and most mind-blowing orgasm you ever had.

The both of you tried to calm your breathing down, silent gasps and deep intakes of air being heard.

He fell on you and you sighed contently, liking the way of feeling his weight on you. A small formed on your lips, which quickly faded as soon as he intended to pull out, thinking that you might feel uncomfortable stuffed to the brim like that.

“No!”, you quickly stopped him, your hands finding his hair once again, carding your fingers through it, “Please, stay in me.”

He looked up at you in wonder, his head slightly tilted to the side, “Isn't it uncomfortable?”

You shook your head at him, your cheeks slightly getting red because of the embarrassment and he smiled warmly at you.

“Like being stuffed, huh?”, he asked you with an amused glint in his eyes, making you giggle shyly.

“I like being stuffed by you.”, you gave back and curled your arms around him, pulling him closer so you felt all of him on you.

Both of you stayed like that, calming yourselves down and just being with each other, enjoying the presence of each other.

“Mr. Min?”

“I said you can call me Yoongi”, he chuckled a little bit and nestled his face in the crook of your neck, softly kissing you and making you blush, obviously not getting the worried tone of your voice.

“Was this more for you than a mere fuck?”, you broke out, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as he heaved himself up to look into your eyes, seeing how much you struggled with keeping eye contact.

His heart felt heavy just when he looked at your stressed-out form, it painfully wrenched inside of his chest and he bit the inner of his cheek.

He already knew the answer, he already knew it the second he walked into the class.

You were more than a student.

More than a mere fuck.

“It was”, he honestly said, wiping a strand of hair from your face, a gentle smile on his lips, “It was way more than that.”

He softly leaned down and caught your lips in a kiss, feeling how a tear rolled down your cheek, his own getting slightly wet because of it. You weren't able to hold yourself together, too happy with the outcome of this night, not even wanting to think about how you didn't even want to go in the first place.

“Don't you cry”, he thumbed your tear away, a soft and gentle spark in his eyes, “I am here for you now. I am here and I am not planning on leaving.”

You smiled at him, pecking his lips, love and adoration bubbling up in your chest.

“Will you always be there for me?”, you asked him, obviously meaning that he'll still be there when you would graduate.

“I'll always be.”, he said without hesitation, meaning every word and locking lips with you once more and you believed him. You believed him with every fiber of your being and at that moment you knew. You just knew you both would stay together.

“I like you, Yoongi.”, you quietly murmured and you thought your heart would stop beating in your chest when you were met with silence.

But that didn't last long. Yoongi slowly kissed up your neck, looking deeply into your eyes and smiling lovingly.

“Even though not everyone will be able to understand what we have and share, we will be together. We will be in our own little world and no one will be able to intervene in it. It will be our own world. Our own little safe haven. I have the same feelings you have for you, ___.”

Your heart swelled in your chest at his words, feeling euphoric at the fact that he shared what you felt for him and you pulled him into another kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips and letting yourself fall into it.

Until a thought suddenly crossed your mind and your eyes grew wide, pulling your lips away from his and looking into his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck.

“What is going on?”

“... I am not on the pill.”

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upthehillask · 5 years ago

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i’d love to hear your cursed child opinions!

Oh boy, well now you’ve unleashed me :D lol I don’t know if you’re interested more in what I loved or in what I’d critique, so I’ll go for both I guess? And you can read whichever you like :) But tbh you won’t hear anything new from me that you haven’t heard other fans talk about. Anyways, here are my thoughts on the actual play: [Spoiler alert I guess!]

Things I loved:

- THE MAGIC!!! The effects were EVERYTHING. The time warp, the telephone booth, the floo, the underwater, the dementors, the writings on the walls, and so much more… Really cool!!! And I loved the whole vibe and aesthetic of the play too, it felt authentic and fitting! THE SWISHY CLOAKS!! I want them!!

- The scenes I especially enjoyed were Harry’s nightmares, glimpses into his past and scenes from the books in general. I think they executed those quite well, made me really soft! Especially the scenes of little Harry in his cupboard and also him in the graveyard. Gripped my heart. Oh, I also loved that they finally showed Cedric in the end, he was so perfect!!

- Draco. Yes yes yes to dad Draco. Still bitchy, pretentious, and petty, trying so hard to play cool and tough, but a pained softie deep inside—we STAN. The relationship between him and his son I CRI EVRITIEM!!! Draco in the alternative timeline letting Scorpius do what he believes in, Draco in the real timeline hugging his son, I LIVE. And oh my god that scene where Draco walked in to Harry crying.. GOD. Yes emotions, yes vulnerability, yes bonding, yes yes yes. (Though I still can’t get over the ponytail. Would’ve been more than fine if Lucius hadn’t been portrayed with long hair lol)

- I loved Albus!! He’s a good Slytherin boy! That’s all I have to say. He’s a good friend and son who tries his best. I liked him a lot, more so now after watching the play. He really did remind me of Harry in a lot of ways. (Also, unpopular opinion, but I always loved Albus Severus’ name and I always will, fight me.)

- And just all the dad-son relationships, parenthood themes, friendship between the boys, related conflicts… Loved all of them. Touching, inspiring, couldn’t get enough!

- McGonagall was fcking ON POINT. Fcking QUEEN. Get it girl. Show em how to understand and respect children 👏👏👏

- I really loved Snape too! It was nice to finally see him being his self that only Dumbledore got to see in the books. I loved his demeanor too. I know actors change, but the one I saw portrayed Snape in a way that felt more canon. As much as I love Alan Rickman, he was a bit too graceful and sophisticated for canon Snape. In the play, however, Snape was kind of more rough, more rash, less pulled together in a way that he spoke and moved. It’s subtle but I lived for that. Also he was finally short. Yes.

- I feel like I have to mention Harry too. I actually quite liked him, so I’m gonna put him under this list as well. Yeah, that one scene where he threatened McGonagall into strict surveillance of his son is a bit much, errr 😅😅😅 But overall, I like the idea of him struggling as a father, making mistakes and learning from them. He’s a good egg.

- Ron and Hermione, my babies!! I had issues with Ron’s characterization, but I did mostly enjoy the portrayal of their relationship. I liked that their roles within the play were mostly to be together or to find their ways to each other. Since so many fans are against their ship, I was really excited to see them. And I just loved Hermione in general. They got her characterization almost on-point too, I think. I just love her 🥰

- In general, I enjoyed a lot of the dialogue. I liked all those strong, emotional one-liners that make you gasp. Harry saying things, Albus saying things, Scorpius, Draco, Ginny, others… There were good examples of lines they’d say that perfectly articulated everything that they embodied or felt or were dealing with. Well done there.

Okayyy I’m sure there’s more I could think of, definitely, but I’ll stop here since this is already a lot 😁

Things I questioned:

- So the one single biggest thing that I am the most critical of has to do with the plot itself, and it’s about Cedric turning into a Death Eater. I’m sorry but I just can’t. I could write a whole essay on how this makes no canonical sense (and I probably will if you ask me lmaoo), but to sum it up, Cedric eventually turning bitter and evil because he was publicly humiliated directly contradicts his canon character development. Cedric’s humility, kindness, and fairness are the core qualities around which Cedric’s personality was developed in the books. He almost explicitly places popularity, glory, and reputation second, and that’s critical, because if failure and humiliation were to affect him so drastically, his primary core values needed to be broken down and changed beforehand, but they never weren’t. So presenting the Triwizard incident as the turning point for him does not make any sense, and as a result the rest of the narrative falls apart. This is a plot hole and hasty writing.

- Yeah, Bellatrix having a child is still kinda weird 🙃🙃 I just hate that because in the books Bellatrix played the archetype of this anti-mother, the antithesis of motherhood and motherly love. I feel like having her voluntarily bring a child into this world destroys that symbolism. It makes me unsatisfied.

- I had some issues with the very beginning and the whole “montage” of events leading up to the fourth year. I found it overwhelming and disorienting, even though I’ve already read the script and knew what’s going on. Still, I felt like I was hit by a train, watching all the fast-paced scenes, cliché chaotic small talk going on, years going by… It felt messy for some reason. I feel like I need to watch it again in order to fully catch up and process everything I saw, and that’s not a good sign. But I didn’t hate it, I just wish we were more eased into the story.

- Scorpius. Now listen. When I read the script, Scorpius was my favorite character. I LOVED him, this awkward nerd who loves his dad and best friend with all his heart. The way I grew to imagine him was quite not how he was portrayed in the play. I know the dialogue and everything’s all the same, but idk, Scorpius in the play was way more hyper, bolder than I pictured, and worst of all, he was going out of his way to be this wannabe player. He seemed so all over the place, even acting a bit arrogant sometimes, celebrating moments of over-confidence, chasing after girls, trying to be everything BUT himself. But that honestly might just be my takeaway alone. There’s nothing actually wrong with his character, I just found myself slightly disappointed with him in the play specifically. I wish I could see the play again to actually analyze things more thoroughly to explain why I feel this way, but I can’t. I still like Scorpius, but a different version of him. (tho damn did I love those skinny pants on him lmao 👌👌)

- Moaning Myrtle. Like, I laughed, it was funny, but it just wasn’t very tasteful lol and I was left feeling a bit uncomfortable from the idea of this young murdered girl writhing and thirsting over literally everyone. The play really blew that out of proportion and idk it’s kinda awkward when I think about it 😅 And in general, there was just so much thirsting… with Rose, Polly Chapman, Delphi… Not to mention Albus kissing his AUNT… Like damn chill JK please 😂 Weird cliches and teenage hormones aren’t the only source of comedy okay?? 😂😂😂 Also, speaking of Myrtle, I kinda wish there was something mentioned about Draco having had been friends with her in sixth year. Idk it would’ve been nice to see that relationship somehow reminisced since we didn’t really get to see it :)

- Craig Bowker Jr... If he was supposed to be a parallel to Cedric, both being the spare, why did he get literally zero attention?? We don’t really know who he is, we don’t see anyone hurting because of his death, he’s killed with such apathy. We don’t even see his parent grieving, like we saw Amos (who also happen to be an integral part to the plot of CC!). The whole parallel is so incomplete. Poor Craig and his unsymbolic death..

- Ok I am obviously elaborating way too much so let me just quickly summarize the rest of things I don’t actually hate but might wanna rant about: RON IS NOT A JOKSTER—GEORGE IS. RON IS A FIGHTER. HE IS ALSO HARRY’S BEST FRIEND, NOT HERMIONE, BUT HE WAS MADE USELESS AND UNNEEDED, WHICH IS HIS ACTUAL WORST FEAR, SO WHO THE FUCK DARED. ROSE IS MORE THAN A BITCHY ROMANTIC INTEREST AND A BAD FRIEND. WHERE THE HELL IS HUGO. GINNY’S EVEN COOLER THAN SHE WAS PORTRAYED, I PROMISE. THE SURPRISE SECOND TIME TURNER ERRRR LOUSY PLOT DEVICE I’M SORRY. LACKLUSTER PLOT IN GENERAL, THE ONLY ACTUAL TWIST IS DELPHI’S REVEAL—NOT ENOUGH, JKR KNOWS BETTER THAN THIS, THE BOOKS WERE FULL OF TWISTS AND TURNS (but that’s kinda okay with me because the relationships between characters in CC really made the whole story worth it).

Alright enough :’D I’m not actually upset, just exaggerating haha Because overall, I liked the play. I wanna see it again. And I wanna analyze it more, too. I’m so excited I finally got to watch it. It’s far from flawless, but I’m still happy with it overall and want to approach it positively! Sure, I’ll rant when it’s ranting time, but I do love it (:

#the cursed child #cursed child spoilers #Q&A #Anonymous #upthehillask

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suits-of-woe · 5 years ago

Note

For the OTP asks... f!Edmund & Goneril >:3

1. If you had to change the pairing’s very first meeting, how would you change it?Well their first meeting was presumably years before the play started so idk. For this AU in particular though, maybe not the first meeting, but I’m picturing a young Edmund walking around court with a chip on her shoulder but secretly kind of desperate to find anyone she can who can relate to her and accept her in terms of her sexuality and everything she’s facing and Goneril like…knowing that but knowing that associating with her is only going to make it harder for both of them. So she probably tries to get the interactions with Edmund over with quickly but then the next time Gloucester comes to court Edmund’s been sent away and Goneril regrets not being able to do more.

 2. What song fits your pairing the most?I’m notoriously bad at finding songs but I still LOVE “The Tower” by Vienna Teng that you suggested for Edmund in this AU.

3. What is your favorite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?This AU for sure, f!Edmund is so great and I didn’t know I needed that until we started discussing it. I love talking about them so much :) I’m also just a sucker for any AU where they both live and so does Regan and they can actually have a talk and sort out some of their insecurities and mayhaps be emotionally vulnerable.

4. Do you prefer canon ideas or do you have your own headcanons for them?I love canon in all its sexy disastrous glory, but when I’m in the mood for them actually being soft and finding love and comfort with each other, it’s gotta be headcanons. Besides the set-up of the girl AU most of my hcs about their relationship are either post-canon or things they were thinking during canon, but as far as their canon scenes together I don’t really change much.

5. Favorite canon moment of them?I think you said this was your fave too but it’s gotta be 4.2. “Ere long you are like to hear, if you dare venture in your own behalf, a mistress’ command” is just SO MUCH. Dom!Goneril and sub!Edmund is the stupid hill I will die on. That whole scene is just brimming with Power Dynamics and Goneril finally deciding to just let loose and take what she wants, actually embrace her sexuality without fear for the first time. And Edmund just feeling so desired and also actually having someone go after her for once and getting very swept up in the whole thing. That scene is incredibly good.

6. Least favorite canon moment of them?The duel. Which is weird cause I love that scene character-wise for both of them individually, but in terms of their relationship I find it devastating. Goneril having to watch Edmund get mortally wounded and realising this whole relationship that made her give up everything, made her kill her sister, is just crumbling before her eyes and she really is going to be all alone again. And then in realising that she leaves Edmund alone! Edmund who’s spent the whole play desperate for love and affection is just totally without it in her last moments! Fuck!!! Shakespeare why did you do this to me?

7. Favorite headcanon trope/idea? (Your own or someone else’s)Ok I joke but I am actually so into the idea of Goneril being the one who initiates the relationship/is more dominant/forward in general because I think it swaps so many of the expectations they’ve both had to face in such a good way. Goneril’s always had to present herself as this object of desire and reproduction for men, that was how her value was measured as a princess and a wife, and her own desire has always been taboo and tamped down, ESPECIALLY because it’s for women. Whereas Edmund’s considered a perverse bastard, of course her tastes are wrong and vulgar, but she’s supposed to be like her mother, not the real object of anyone’s affection for longer than it takes for them to sleep with her and be done. So Goneril getting to WANT and Edmund getting to FEEL WANTED is my favourite thing.

8. Least favorite headcanon trope/idea? I hate interpretations where Edmund is just using her and Regan for power and doesn’t actually have any emotional connection to them at all. I find it so weird cause if she just wanted to marry a princess Regan is right there! It’s clearly not just about that! It doesn’t have to be True Love or anything but the idea that they have zero feelings for each other is ridiculous. And on a less blatantly wrong note: portrayals where Edmund is the one doing all the seducing. Have y’all read 4.2?

9. Favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics?The mutual loneliness…the mutual rejection they’ve faced from their parents and the world…the mutual realisation that maybe they ARE worthy of love and happiness and can find it with each other….yeah.

10. Least favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics? (Can be headcanon)Edmund buddy you gotta STOP sleeping with two sisters at the same time. I know it’s about her feeling the need to hoard all the love she can get but it’s so bad hon, you’re hurting everyone involved. If you could just NOT do that you could actually maybe have a happy monogamous relationship??

11. If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?I mean they’re kind of canon but them having a functional monogamous relationship is definitely NOT so. My go-to “fix-it” (by which I mean fixing the sad feelings of me, a villain-stanning dumbass) scenario is basically Gloucester escapes with Lear, so Cornwall never blinds him and never dies and Regan has no reason to go for Edmund. The sisters win the war but Albany’s conscience gets to him so he helps Lear and Cordelia get away and goes with them (and also Edgar and Gloucester probs) back to France. Cue a very messy divorce, but at the end of it Goneril’s in full “fuck everyone, I do what I want” mode and Regan’s 100% there for her, so Edmund gets to be her closest advisor and not-so-secret lover, and now that they’re not surrounded by people who treat them as second-class all the time they can actually like…feel secure and be in love.

12. If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?Hmm I suppose another play where they could be a badass power couple with less interference and tragedy. Antonio and Sebastian from the Tempest have some vibes so you could genderswap them. Could TOTALLY see Edmund like “hey you know how I usurped my sibling? I’ll help you usurp your sibling, and then maybe we can also bang”

13. How hard is it write/draw your pairing? Scale of 1-10.I’ve only kind of tried once (and that was with m!Edmund anyway) so idk…6 or 7 maybe? I like writing Goneril but I find Edmund’s voice very hard to get right, plus I’m always trying to find a good middle ground between Shakespearean English and totally modern language.

14. Is there a pairing that you think rivals them?I mean in-universe it’s Regan/Edmund but I don’t like them nearly as much (and I don’t think they like each other all that much either). If Regan weren’t so grief-stricken and Edmund weren’t so obsessed with holding onto any bit of affection I don’t think they ever would have gotten together.

15. Which character of the pairing do you like more? (Would you ever pair yourself with them?)I’m for sure an Edmund person — as much as I love Goneril, she’s not top 3 characters in the canon level of fave. And I think my crush on Edmund is well-documented (although less f!Edmund since I’m straight) but that relationship would probably end in my death tbh

16. Which character of your pairing would be the one to break up with the other? Why?I guess Edmund, since she’s the one who cheats, and even though Goneril seems to know about it she doesn’t end things. But realistically I don’t think Edmund would actually break up with her even if she probably should, she’d be more likely to keep hanging on because Affection™ even if things were a wreck. Honestly given how things are in the canon I think both of them would stick around long after it stopped being a good idea.

17. Are they relatable as characters or as a pairing?I relate to Goneril somewhat because Womanhood™ and oldest daughter feelings and especially in this AU having a bad and traumatic relationship with a man that makes you hate him even if it’s not really his fault :/ I don’t really relate to Edmund though, and I’ve never had a relationship similar to their dynamic

18. Did you once/ever dislike one/both of them?Regan was the first sister I loved and I still adore her but for a while that made me think of Goneril as the boring evil crazy sister who was just getting in everyone’s way. Edmund I loved from the start, although at first it was just in the “villain is cool and sexy haha” way, and it wasn’t until I got really into that character that I started loving Goneril too and thinking about how much they have in common and are SUCH victims of their parents and society in general.

19. On an estimate, how many posts have you made about them?Less than 5 I think, this is definitely a niche ship as far as people’s interest on here and tbh I didn’t start fully shipping it until recently. It’s definitely a guilty pleasure ship because their relationship is DISASTROUS but it also makes me feel…a lot of things.

20. What made you decide to ship them?I got really upset thinking about how Edmund canonically died alone and rewrote his death scene so Goneril was there they both kind of…realised how lonely they both were and got to have a genuinely tender moment right at the end. And then it occurred to me how sad their mutual love-starvation is and how much I want them to be there for each other. And THEN you helped me flesh out my ideas for f!Edmund and that just intensified both of their feelings of rejection by the world and Edmund getting to embody Goneril’s sexual liberation and both of them experiencing love in a way they never have before and that just made it even more compelling.

21. Favorite genre for them? (Angst, fluff, etc.)I’ve barely written them but honestly fluff because the main appeal of this ship is giving them both companionship and someone to understand what they’re going through. So yeah, I want them to be sweet and talk about their feelings and work through their issues enough to be a functional couple. Will this ever happen? Unlikely, but I can imagine it.

#ahhh thank you!#love getting to talk more about Them #this went from ironic ship to guilty pleasure ship to full on ship so fast and i'm obsessed with this AU #edmund #goneril #king lear #mine #asks #otp: yours in the ranks of death

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spiltscribbles · 6 years ago

Note

43 for pynch please?

~Notes: Hey fam! Thanks so so much for the prompt! I wasn’t sure which list you intended by let me know if it wasn’t the right prompt love

Send Me A Prompt

Ronan flies out to Cambridge on a Thursday afternoon.

It’s the middle of October, first semester of university, the place where Adam’s fighting and sweating and succeeding as always in Harvard. proving wrong some invisible force that continues to envelop him whole in ways Cabeswater could’ve only dreamed of. (Sometimes, when Ronan can’t sleep, and he’s watching the ever rigid tension seemingly woven into Adam’s shoulders, he wants to ask if that invisible force has the shape of Robert Parrish, and if Adam could ever escape that particular demon. But Ronan never asks and Adam never leads on and that’s enough most of the time.)

Stepping out onto the terminal, Ronan checks his watch— a fancy, leather banded thing with an Italian name. The exact replica he’d once seen Niall dawn. It’s just turned a quarter after three, Adam’s stuck in his lecture till at least half past four, so instead of waiting Ronan waves down a cab and gives the address to the campus.

It’s a miserably rainy New England autumn day, chilly and pouring and all the things Ronan hates.

Fuck.

It’s not even a school break or anything like that. The only reason why Ronan’s even here, and why Adam agreed to take a voluntary day off is because last week— during one of their insanely frequent Skype sessions where Adam would work on his assignments and Ronan would dick around the farm, punctured by their occasional conversations— Adam had stated, in that measured, stripped down way of his, that they were nearly reaching their one year mark.

“Fuck out here?” Ronan had balked, which in Ronan terms means he snorted with a considerably less snarl. “Who would’ve bet on that?”

“I would have,” Adam says, and fuck, Ronan fucking hates shitty technology because now instead of it just being their stupid voices Adam can see the way those simple little words have elicited an insanely embarrassing response from Ronan. Cheeks and ears infused red and pale eyes darting anywhere but at the screen, thinking that it would probably reck him if he got to see the look on Adam’s face and not be able to kiss him right then.

“Me too,” he softly confesses.

“You know Lynch,” Adam had begun with that customary, shit eating charm Ronan was much more comfortable with at this particular moment. “Most normal couples celebrate that kind of shit.”

“You saying we’re not normal Parrish? Because I take that as a fucking offense.”

“I dunno,” Adam levels him with a look through the laptop monitor, low voice transforming to a husky, Henrietta drawl. “You wanna celebrate or not?”

That had been what spurred Ronan on to buying a ticket that night, and what brought him to this hellish fortress of highfalutin academics and the bratty kids of senators and ambassadors and millionaires who think of university as merely a downtime until they can get that pretty little superlative to smack on some inconsequential resume.

Except no, this isn’t the ninth circle of hell because Adam’s here, and that makes everything pretty alright.

~*~

Adam meets Ronan at a coffee shop cusping the campus’s borders and nearly topples over his drink when he crashes his lips against Ronan’s as soon as the laws of physics would allow it— a cacophony of lips and teeth and spit that makes Ronan’s toes curl.

“Fucking settle the fuck down Parrish,” Ronan scolds with no actual heat, as if he weren’t meeting every peck with the same amount of fervency, as if his hands weren’t patting up and down his face and locking in his hair, this edge of desperate.

“Embarrassing ya?” Adam teases, nudging their noses together.

“Sorry to break it to ya lover boy, but You’re always fucking embarrassing me.”

Adam only leers, carding an appreciative hand through Ronan’s grown out locks. “Lover boy? Hah, i like that. Imma gonna have to use that.”

“I fucking dare you.”

Adam tips back his head with laughter, and Ronan decidedly stays quiet, pretends that the sound isn’t all the golden and splendid and wonderful things he’s ever known strung together, like the most beautiful instrument.

Sometimes Ronan reminds himself that no, he did not in fact dream Adam.

~*~

They do not fucking hold hands all the way to Adam’s dorm because that is totally lame and wimpy and for fucking dorky little bitches.

But if their pinkies are hooked into one another’s… Well then, who the fuck is even asking?

~*~

“I swear to God Ronan!” Adam reprimands, face set in a scowl and swatting Ronan’s hand away from where it was cupping his ass while Adam was trying to gather the last of his things to throw in his duffle.

“Hey, don’t swear to your creator prick.”

Adam just waggles his tongue at him and Ronan dips down to bite it, which then leads to Adam giving a curious tug onto Ronan’s hair, making the dreamer moan and Adam get this sharp, instinctive gleam to his eyes that always means trouble in the most spectacular of ways.

Half an hour later Ronan’s lounging lazily on Adam’s twin sized bed while the aforementioned boy is zipping up the last of his necessary belongings and cursing at him to “Get the fuck up already.”

“Alright, alright madonna, don’t put your fucking panties in a twist.”

“Pretty misogynistic smack for a dude who just had my dick up his ass like ten minutes ago.”

“Yo, I like what I like, doesn’t mean I can’t still pound the face of any fuck that tries getting at me,” Ronan sniffs, mock indignant.

Adam only snorted, letting out a dry breath that tells Ronan that he’s reluctantly amused.

“Fine whatever, you’re an enigma rapped in a contradiction,” Adam waves him off in a universally recognized shooing away motion, making Ronan role his eyes while slipping back on his boxers and jeans. “my point still holds, if you can’t say it in front of Blue, reckon you can’t say it at all.”

“What a peachy bit of advice honey dumplin,” Ronan says in a falsetto, putting on his best imitation of Adam’s accent he can.

“You. Are. A. Piece. Of. Shit.” Adam tells him between sugar cloaked kisses that taste like coffee and blueberries and the splendor of The Barns at dawn.

Collecting their things and locking up his dorm, the pair don’t make it down the hall before being accosted by another student. An objectively pretty student with long curly hair wrapped into a messy topknot, and warm dark skin, with even darker eyes that have this impossible glittering to them.

Ronan hates her right on sight.

“Adam! Oh thank God!” She crows, and Ronan most certainly does not appreciate the way it’s like she can’t help but run her eyes up and down his person before settling on his face, features going soft as she spoke to him.

“Hey Kat,” Adam greets, and Ronan is savagely proud that it’s with distinctly less enthusiasm. “whats going on?”

“Professor Gomez! I completely and totally lost the paper where i wrote all the junk he wanted for our presentations! And I’m totally wigging out because it’s too late to email him now and I haven’t started! And I don’t even remember what he even kinda wanted! Like fuck! I know he’s old but learn how to put shit online right? And I’m just such a mess and—“

Adam rises up a hand, lips quirked in an amused half smile. “Aren’t you presenting tomorrow?”

“You see my dilemma then!” She presses, big, caff like eyes pleading with him.

“I don’t know how you put yourself through so much pressure the night of.”

“We’re all not geniuses like you Parrish,” she says in what Ronan bets was meant to be a scoff, but instead came out fond and self deprecating.

“Thankfully not,” Adam winked.”Let me grab my notebook from my room, I don’t need it anymore anyhow.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She almost gushed.

“Course,” Adam says before turning slightly so that he’s only looking at Ronan, one eyed quirked in silent command for him to stay put. Ronan’s answering twist of the lips— telling him that he’s not his fucking keeper— must’ve not had the same bite behind it as intended because Adam only chuckles before elbow checking him and pivoting around back to his room.

Just as soon as he’s out of ear shot the inevitable, exceedingly awkward, silence basically collapses between Ronan and this new girl who’s distinctly apart of Adam’s life that Ronan is separated from.

Again, Ronan decidedly does not like her.

“So, ah, I’m Kat,” she tries to introduce, as if Ronan gave one singular fuck. “And you must be Adam’s boyfriend… Ronan?”

Something warm and content coils deep in Ronan’s gut at the idea that Adam’s spoken about him to his college friends, to this girl in particular. That they know of him and could probably rattle off a few superficial facts about him that Adam’s told them. It makes him feel relevant, thought about. Makes him feel like Adam misses him nearly as much Ronan does him.

But this intruder doesn’t need to see the pleasure that causes.

“No shit,” he says with venom. “What gave it away? The just got fucked hair he’s sporting or the fact his jeans are sagging enough so you can see him wearing my Calvin boxers.”

In an instant, something passes through the girl’s, Kat’s, eyes, her mouth set in a straight line and posture stiff.

“No actually, I just got a distinct, woe with me, tragic white boy with a past vibe from the little bit of descriptions Adam’s managed out, and well, you seem to fit that quite nicely.”

Ronan doesn’t mean for the huff of laughter to spill out his lips, but it does, and he may or may not hate her just a little less.

“Sorry,” she says with a grimace, falling back to a more relaxed stance. “That was rude.”

“What the fuck ever,” Ronan shrugs, snide.

“Right,” she nods, worrying on her bottom lip. “Well, ah… Adam’s doing great here.”

“Did I ask for your assessment on how’s Adam doing?”

“The way you were smiling at him before I interrupted and how you stared after his ass when he left was question enough,” Kat sniffs, and no never mind. Ronan definitely does not like her, not even slightly.

“Fuck off.”

“He’s like flourishing,” she continues, as if completely impervious to Ronan’s nasty attitude. And fuck, he’s actually worried that Sargent’s taunting might’ve been right and love has made him soft. Or maybe this chick is just made out of some hard stuff, which then of course leads to the subsequent question of how is it that Adam seems to attract the impossible to him like he’s some sort of ley line all his own.

“Pardon me if I think you saying he’s flourishing is a load of bull shit considering you’ve known’m for like a hand full of weeks. And I own a fucking farm, I know what bull shit looks like.”

She pulls a face but charges on anyways, only ducking her head ever so slightly. Ronan supposes that’s as much of a concession as he’s ever gonna get from her.

“Okay, point, that’s reasonable. But still, he’s changed, even just from that distant, aloof boy from my orientation group back in August… He’s like open up to some people in like certain ways… I mean like sure yeah it’s all really basic rudimentary stuff about’m, but like at least he’s letting people in? Yah know?”

Ronan does know, he knows probably better than anybody— even Gansey and Blue— that the one thing Adam hates is talking about himself, that he prefers the cold exterior to ever letting someone all the way in. They’re working on it, Ronan’s not exactly a walk in the fucking park either…

Ronan nods to her, nods and ignores the all too familiar gleam to her eyes and touch of color to her cheeks. He looks at her and pretends he doesn’t remember that expression looking back at him in the mirror for sophomore and junior and a good chunk of senior year too, until he realized he might’ve had a chance.

“Yeah,” he tells her, watches as she darts her gaze anywhere but at him. “I know.”

She lets loose some of the static in the air with a little cough, and Ronan is thankful for it.

“But yeah,” she continues on as if nothing had passed. “He’s a life saver, this Spanish class is way harder than they let on. I mean I know he says his Ma didn’t speak much of it at home but like you must’ve heard considering you guys went to school together. Like some of the dialect is just innate, I swear. I mean I think the ability to role your Rs is an abomination, and I’m like so jealous.”

She continues on with her nervous chatter, but Ronan doesn’t take any of it in, he’s still stuck on the bit where she made it seem as if Adam had some natural inclination to the language at hand…. As if his mother spoke it or something. And well, Ronan was never made privy to that, like ever, and he doesn’t know how he should feel about that. The fact that she, this random college friend, knew something Ronan definitely did not about the boy he’s suppose to be in relationship with.

She trails off and Ronan doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s because Adam’s finally returned.

“Stuff highlighted in yellow are the requirements, orange’s the supplemental readings that should help, and green’s extra credit.”

“Oh God! Thank you Adam!” She squawks, full of glee when she leaps into his arms. “I could totally kiss you right now, ya know if your totally ripped, completely cross boyfriend weren’t standing right here… Hah, ah that was a joke, if it wasn’t clear…” She directs that part to Ronan and he just bares his teeth at her. “Oh, okay then.

With another round of thank yous, Kat waves goodbye. “See you in class tomorrow for my inevitably amazing presentation!”

“Oh, ah actually I won’t be there. Me and Ronan are going out to the city tonight for a long weekend,” he jostles his duffle as if to prove a point and Kat instantly smiles.

“Are you telling me that Adam Parrish is taking an actual day off? Under his own free will?”

“I am,” he laughs.

“I’ll make sure to take you worthy notes then.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Can we get the fuck going before we completely miss our train?” Ronan interjects, only partially meaning it.

“You got yourself a real peach Parrish,” she harrumphs before walking off.

Adam glowers a total of three and a half minutes before dissolving into peals of laughter at a face Ronan makes at him.

“Dork.”

“Dumbass.”

The hotel suite is nice, nicer than the pictures on line lead on, and nicer than Adam would’ve ever allowed if he had any say, but Ronan’s trying to be fucking romantic or what the fuck ever, so he paid for it without telling him and he told Parrish to shove a dick down his throat when he started chiding at him for being so lavish— so not Frugal, so not him— with his money… And well.

“You taste like dick,” Ronan snarks, as cheeky as a snake can get, and Adam just throws him the bird when he leads down for another kiss.

“I’ll tell Gansey you don’t like his flavor,” Adam goads.

“Hey! What the fuck did I say about bringing up Gansey or any of them when our dicks are touching?”

“Huh, I dunno?” Adam blinks, faux owlish. God, Ronan’s in love with such a sarcastic asshole.

“I hate you and this is over.” Ronan tells him, matter of fact.

“Sounds reasonable,” Adam says, unimpressed while he gets up. The dim light of the room caresses the soft lines and flat planes of his beautiful face, skirts across the dips and valleys of his shoulders and stomach muscles and brings out the specs of gold in his hair. Ronan thinks back to earlier that day when Adam had teasingly called him an enigma, and silently laughs to himself, because Adam knows him. Adam knows the gears and slings that operate in his body and the staples of his life that sing in his soul. The memory of his parents, Matthew— reluctantly Declan too— The Barns, Adam himself.

Adam knows all the intimate bits that string Ronan together but sometimes Ronan wonders if it’ll ever be a mutual trade.

Adam’s always been beautiful to him, like a favorite piece of art that you can’t quite make out behind all the shadows, but now Ronan thinks that he’s also just as riddling as some of those posh paintings that hang up in places like The Whitney, the ones that Niall always pointed out in wonderment when he took his boys during their frequent family trips to New York City. Yes, Ronan thinks Niall would’ve been very much intrigued by Adam if they had ever met.

Swallowing down a lump he can feel start to form, Ronan breathes in before speaking, afraid that his voice might crack like some fucking ballerina.

“That Kat chick is fucking annoying.” Is what he decides to blurt out.

“She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” Adam admonishes, redressing into a pair of Ronan’s slightly too long sweats. “She’s ambitious though, already the secretary to the Black Student Union and is running for a senate seat for student government.”

“well la-di-da,” Ronan snarls, derisive.

“Someone’s sour after a phenomenal BJ, if I do say so myself,” Adam counters, picking up the clicker and flipping on CNN to the muted tv.

There’s a thousand thoughts warring inside of Ronan’s head right now. Cursing at Adam and just moving on with the conversation and their weekend. Cursing at Adam and staying in his admittedly foul mood. Asking Adam just how many of these impossibly pretty, impossibly bright college kids are flirting with him while he stays oblivious. Asking him if he regrets having a ball and chain back in Henrietta. But what eventually clammers out his throat in a burning fury and pours from his lips is something that’s been nagging at him all fucking night long.

“I didn’t know your mom spoke Spanish?”

Adam turns around to him, lips pinched and brows furrowed, probably trying to parse out why Ronan sounds so peeved off.

“Ah yeah, I mean like her whole family’s from Mexico, she grew up speaking it.”

“Didn’t know she was Mexican either,” Ronan very nearly barks, hates how this suddenly feels like a betrayal. “So what you’re half Mexican and half…”

Adam’s face goes blank, and Ronan knows he’s annoyed him, truly, now.

“I dunno what the fuck Robert was, a bunch of different white trash shit. Why do you care?”

“You know my fucking heritage.”

“Niall’s a hundred percent Irish, and your ma is hundred percent dream, it isn’t that hard to explain.”

“And yet you couldn’t explain that your mom was Mexican.”

“You couldn’t guess from a name like Claudia Flores?”

“So what, her fucking name is hispanic, how am I suppose to pick out from which exact country or if she actually spoke it.” Ronan doesn’t know how to be any more clear about this.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad? What is the big deal here?”

“You’re fucking college girlfriend knew and I didn’t?” Ronan finally says, feels the piercing in his chest begin to dissipate at the light of understanding starting to come over Adam’s face.

“You are such a fucking idiot.” He tells him, astonished.

“Real nice prick,” Ronan scrambles off the bed, hates how vulnerable he is just lying there. “Just go fuck off.”

But before Ronan could storm into the bathroom he feels Adam’s hand— long fingers and rough edges— circling around his wrist, gentle, like a question.

“Ronan you’re an idiot because you seem not to understand just how much I fucking love you.”

Ronan stays facing the door, refuses to show Adam what kind of an effect he has on him, how his face goes blotchy and throat feels like it’s constricting.

“Fuck off Parrish,” Ronan repeats, though it’s in a much quieter tone.

“I don’t know how to convince you to the truth,” Adam continues to speak as if Ronan hadn’t interrupted, tugging on him so he turns around and they’re face to face, blue eyes boring into blue. “I’m in love with you, I think I was in love with you before I knew even I could actually feel it…. That I wasn’t my father and that I actually got to have you. You’re amazing Ronan, you’re everything.”

Adam breathes out, like he’s marveling at him, and Ronan can barely handle the wonderment in his eyes, the way he’s holding and gazing at Ronan like he’s something fragile, something precious. Something he’s in love with.

“Whatever,” Ronan finally huffs out before snaking his arms around Adam’s still naked torso and kissing him to an inch of his life.

“I love you too,” Ronan eventually says once they’re back in bed, and his head is propped on Adam’s chest where he can hear the fluttering of his heartbeat, and Adam’s tracing small circles on his back.

He doesn’t think either of them really understands how much the other feels in it’s entirety, but he’s ready to spend an eon to try.

#Adam Parrish #Ronan Lynch #Pynch #The raven cycle #Spilled ink #there's a Hamilton reference begs of course there is #first to notice gets a cookie #SPILT INK

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

Text

paris in the rain (when i'm with you) (Branjie) - ohhthereuare

AN: Rainy days and comfy clothes. Brooke and Vanessa just being happy and soft.

Inspired by the song “Paris In The Rain” by Lauv which became my official branjie song

This is me getting emotional over B looking soft in her comfy clothes and the fact that V liked the tweet when I sent her this song and said it made me think about branjie. If there’s any possibility that she listened to it and thought about them as well then I am a dead woman Here’s the link, listen to it and feel the vibe https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZELmUooBlY Leave a comment, cry with me if you’d like because these two dumbasses literally own my dumb, drunk heart now Jenna I’m dedicating this thing to you bc you make me so happy and I can’t wait to actually cry and yell into your face in person

AO3

The rain was tapping gently against the windows of the van as the contestants were halfway to the studio for yet another day of stressful challenges. The clouded sky cast a grey glow onto the city, everything seemed to be a little bit more mellow and sleepier than usual. Even the queens were not as chatty, be it stress, unresolved drama or the weather. Vanessa and Brooke occupied their usual spot at the very end of the van, limbs impossibly tangled so no one could really tell when one ended and the other one began. The taller queen had her arms wrapped around Vanessa from the back and was looking out of the window, absently drawing circles with her thumb on her boyfriend’s small palm and placing soft kisses to her temple from time to time. Neither said a word, listening to the comforting murmur of conversation around them and each other’s calm breathing. Vanessa felt so warm and safe, tucked in the crook of Brooke Lynn’s neck, she would have easily said no to the whole show for the day if it meant being able to spend a few more private moments with her man. Especially since Brooke was wearing Vanjie’s favorite outfit- the white hoodie, that always smelled like aired out cigarettes smoke, Brooke’s cologne and a laundry detergent, and her worn-out grey beanie. As lovely as seeing her in tight-fitting pieces was, all put together and so gorgeous it took Vanessa’s breath away sometimes, she liked her best like this. She knew now it was mostly a dancer thing for Brooke, staying slightly uncomfortable and always professional on stage, only to change into comfortable and loose clothing as soon as she was done. She was always so soft like that, all grey and white cotton, sleeves a little too long so she held them in place with her fingers, too much material to show off her toned body but just enough to keep her warm and relaxed. It somehow made Vanessa feel like she knew and understood her better, who she really was as a person behind all the makeup and perfect composure. It made her love her even more.

“You’ve been staring, boo.”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, for the past ten minutes. You’re not as sneaky as you’d like to believe.”

“Maybe I’m just admiring the view” Vanessa shifted a little to place a small kiss to the spot where Brooke’s jawline dipped towards her neck. She stopped for a moment to press her nose closer, relishing in the smell of her boyfriend being the strongest there. A sweet blooming feeling spilled like hot ginger tea down from her chest and into her bones. She could melt right then and there. “Especially since the view’s all mine to admire.”

A slight pink blush painted Brooke’s cheeks like a summer sunset and she smiled before she reached her hand to adjust her beanie. Vanessa beat her to it, pulling the grey material down her face to cover her eyes. Brooke’s lips briefly parted in surprise and Vanessa captured them in a kiss. She tasted like menthol cigarettes, maple syrup that she had for breakfast with her pancakes, and toothpaste.

“As soon as this shit’s over, and we send both of your asses packing, we’re getting you a room!” A’keria shouted from the front of the van. Shuga and Nina laughed but they were both smiling kindly, excited for their friends’ happiness, even if it was making them nauseous at times.

Maybe on another day they would have shouted something back, a joke or a bit of harmless shade, but today they didn’t care about anybody’s opinions. Vanessa snuggled in closer, her back pressed against the taller queen’s chest, shielded safely by her arms. She noticed absentmindedly how well Brooke’s look went with the weather; looking like rain on the concrete, sipping on coffee with whipped cream, listening to chill indie music, feeling so at peace and like the raindrops separated you from the rest of the world. Vanessa could swear being with Brooke was like sitting in their own bubble with everything else soaking in an icy spring drizzle. Or maybe these feelings were turning her into a sappy piece of ass. Not like she cared much to be honest.

The blurry streets behind the window changed into a well-known by now parking lot. The rain showed no signs of stopping. Brooke sighed heavily, her mouth right next to the shorter queen’s ear so the puff of breath sent chills down the other one’s spine.

“I wish we could just stay like this” One last kiss on the cheek, lingering this time, leaving a ghost of a touch, a squeeze to their intertwined fingers, before she started untangling herself to get up “Too bad I have a crown to win.”

“Oh hoe, feeling confident today, aren’t we, Miss Brooke?” Vanessa laughed, her voice changing from quiet, low and relaxed to her regular rough self. She missed the feel of Brooke’s body instantly but the warmth where they had been touching remained. They started getting out of the van and into the unforgiving weather, Brooke walking first but reaching her hand behind her for Vanjie to grab. It was not much but it was somehow enough.

Brooke was already on her second cigarette in the span of ten minutes, hanging by the balcony’s doors and listening rather than watching the ongoing rain put Los Angeles to sleep. They had an hour left before the PAs made their round around the building making sure all the queens were respectfully in their own beds, like children during summer camp. Vanessa walked into the room silently without knocking, her flip-flops slapping wetly and bare chest pulling Brooke’s attention for a second. She made her way to Brooke’s bed and grabbed the white hoodie that was thrown into a bundle of other clothes before putting in on. The sleeves were way too long but she didn’t bother with rolling them up, instead letting them hang over her wrists and reaching the tips of her fingers. The overall length was too much on her tiny body as well, ending somewhere mid-thigh. She looked exhausted, moves too slow for her usual frantic energy, back hunched and eyelids heavy. Brooke thought she had never looked more beautiful.

The Canadian queen finished her cigarette, putting it down in a small glass of water she kept outside and joined Vanessa on the bed. She left the balcony doors ajar so they could still hear the raindrops swishing calmingly outside.

“I like you in my clothes, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

There was a teasing note in Vanessa’s voice, a promising growl that would normally ignite a fire in both of their bodies if they weren’t this tired.

“Yeah but I like you in everything so…”

They both snickered at how lame that sounded, but neither cared. Brooke was glad she had someone like Vanjie, someone who didn’t make her worry whether she said the right thing or not. She could be herself in her presence and after so many hours of anxiety, keeping yourself in check and watching your every move, it felt like more rewarding than anything she could win. Vanessa laid on her back and Brooke was there beside her propped on her elbow. After a moment she started tracing light patterns over Vanessa’s arms, shoulders, jawline, lips, nose, and closed eyelids. She watched her fluttering, dark eyelashes and how her lips parted with a huff when Brooke brushed her finger against the shell of her ear.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Papi. The PAs will have to kick your ass out of my bed if they find you here like this.“

“Mmm, yeah, whatever. Now shut up and cuddle me, bitch.”

Brooke laughed but obliged, wrapping herself all over Vanessa’s sleepy frame, arm thrown across her stomach and legs tangled together. She smelled like her own shower gel and Brooke’s hoodie, which was strangely arousing. The shorter queen turned her head and placed a messy, off-center kiss somewhere to the corner of Brooke’s lips. It still amazed her how just simply being with Vanessa made her so happy. It didn’t really matter what they did nor where they were as long as they were together.

“I think it’s time for you to go, you know.” Her heart squeezed painfully when she said it and she hoped Vanessa could hear that in her voice. There was nothing she wanted more than for them to stay like this forever. Maybe only a crown and scepter at their feet would be a nice bonus.

Vanessa sighed heavily before she opened her eyes and rolled onto her side. Brooke only had a moment to register the new fire shining in her eyes before Vanjie put her hand on the taller queen’s jawline and pulled her in for a goodbye kiss. This time her lips were already parted and hungrily possessive, making Brooke keep up with their pace, her fingers tingling with the sudden urge to explore and touch. Their quickened breaths and quiet whimpers mixed up with the sound of raindrops falling outside.

“Miss ya already.”

“You’re literally still in my bed.” Brooke huffed out a laugh but all she wanted to do was to get back to whatever was just happening between them.

“So?”

Vanessa sat up on the bed, still wearing the hoodie and apparently leaving with no intention of giving it back now, took Brooke’s hand for the last time and brushed her lips against the other queen’s knuckles lovingly. The look of pure love in her eyes was almost too much for Brooke to handle. She hoped her own eyes conveyed the same emotion for Vanessa to see before either one of them dared to put it into words.

“Sweet dreams, boo.”

“See you in the morning.”

They never wished for the clouds to clear out and for the sun to rise faster.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #fluff #ohhthereuare #submission

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