#these jeans are so fucking comfy you would not believe i love mens pants
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epaily · 1 year ago
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test tomorrow sleeping in jeans sleeping in socks no shower studied for 5 hours not super confident only ate real meal cause ilive with parents want to study more dont know how to study wears same clothes for a week wish i drank coffee yeeeeeeeeeeeehaw im a college student baybeeeeeee
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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago
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Survey #454
“last thing i remember, i was running for the door  /  i had to find the passage back to the place i was before”
Last thing you bought online? Did you like it? I have no clue. Could you date someone who didn’t drive (and didn’t show an interest in ever getting their license, either)? I don't know. Public transportation isn't a big thing here at all, and even whenever I get my license, my partner needing to get somewhere while I'm needed elsewhere could be problematic. I think it would also depend on why they don't want their license. Like if they had a traumatic wreck, I couldn't blame them. How would you react if your artwork became famous? That'd be fucking amazing. Would you get your nipples pierced? I've briefly considered it. I ultimately wouldn't, though. How many people know your birthday? Without the assistance of Facebook, a few, I guess. My immediate family, Sara, uhhhh... Has anyone ever tried to ruin a relationship you were in? Yes, and it worked. For the better, though. He had a bad reputation. Have you ever watched a whole hour long infomercial? Ha, yes, this one time with Girt. It was a vacuum infomercial. We were just really bored at my place and... okay, I have no justification for watching that whole thing lmao. What is your current MySpace song? I still remember it was "Pocketful of Sunshine" by Natasha Beddingfield lmaooo. What is your favorite kind of meat to put on your sandwich? Ham. Which one of your exes do you feel like you have the most chemistry with? Sara or Jason, idk. How do you feel about people who make Facebook profiles for their pets? I don't care. Have you ever personally known a pair of conjoined twins? No. What was the most disturbing thing you have ever heard your mother say? Mom and my older sister got in a fight once and Mom yelled that she was a slut. I don't know why, but... it never left me, and I GUARANTEE it never left Ashley (who is not a "slut," by the way). This was when she was a teenager, so it's been many years and I can absolutely promise you Mom regrets it, big time. I don't even have to ask. Is there something in particular you like to look at photos of? What is it? Mark and meerkats, ha ha. Chewy chocolate-chip cookies: like or dislike? Chewy is the way to GO. If your boyfriend/girlfriend wanted to dress only in the opposite sex’s clothing, would you support that? If not, would you leave them? I wouldn't care. I'm pansexual, anyway. Anyone can be attractive to either gender's clothes to me. I think assigning clothes to a specific gender is dumb, anyway. Do you think your grandmother is/was beautiful? I only remember how my maternal grandmother looked, and yeah, she was a pretty lady. Which of your fields of interest are you a total expert on? Mark, ha ha. I know way too much on a person I've never met. When was the last time you got all dolled up? Not since last October when I did a witchy Halloween shoot with friends. Do you ever name objects? (i.e. mp3 players, guitars, cars, etc.) No. Do you have a criminal record? No. Last person you took a nap with? Sara, years ago. Well, unless you count my cat. He always comes running when he hears me getting comfy in bed, ha ha. Does seeing your mother cry automatically make you feel sad as well? Yes, and angry because I want to stop whatever it is making her cry, but I usually can't. Do you think someone likes the same person you like? I have no idea. Do you want your life to stay the way it is right now forever? God no. Have you ever been to craigslist.com? Yes; I've adopted and rehomed pets from there. What about eBay? Mom's bought stuff from there. Have you ever used Nair? Yes, on my legs. It's just as exhausting as shaving with how thick my hair is. Are you medicated? I think I'm on too much medication, personally. I want to try weaning off my OCD prescription, because I haven't had problems in a long time, but my psychiatrist doesn't want to? Which is odd to me because when I came to him, he was stunned by how many different meds I was on. He's concerned that the symptoms will just re-emerge, but like... I've beaten OCD before, for many years. I can do it again. I trust him with my life though, because he saved it, so I just go with what he says, honestly. Do you shape/fill in your eyebrows? No. Have you ever stolen/borrowed clothes from an ex? I've worn Jason's pajama pants before because I found men's pj pants more comfortable, and besides, sometimes I spent the night when I didn't plan to and needed something more comfortable than jeans. Could you make a statement about anything political? Texas' new "heartbeat bill" is fucking bullshit and is going to get so many women killed from DIY abortions. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates, but I do believe I met the person I loved more than I could ever possibly love somebody else again. Do you get the feeling something good will happen in your life soon? Fuck if I know. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? Yes. Have you been to McDonald’s in the past month? Yes. Have you ever slept over at your best friend’s house? I have. How often do you go bowling? Very, very rarely. I haven't been since I was on a date at the end of 2017, I wanna say??? Or was it '18??? Last time you were in an apartment? Not since Colleen still lived in one and I was visiting her. Have you ever seen a live seahorse? Yeah, in aquariums. Would you like to have your own yacht? I mean I wouldn't say no if you offered it to me for free, but I'm not exactly interested in one. I'd probably just give it to my dad. He'd be on Cloud 9. Winnie the Pooh or Tigger? Pooh! :^) What’s the unhealthiest thing you’ve eaten today? A brownie with caramel drizzle. Mom bought a box of them to split between Ash and her family and us, so I had one. :x Thankfully though she gave more to Ash, because I don't like having treats in the house for my weight's sake, but a little something sweet occasionally keeps you sane when you're trying to lose weight. Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? Ew, no. What is something you’d be happy to receive as a gift, that doesn’t cost a lot? I'd really appreciate something hand-made, like a drawing or something. What kind of music does your significant other/crush like to listen to? He likes mostly the same stuff as me, but also more indie-ish stuff than me. Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were? Jason. His eyes are brown. Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? Supernatural. It's inevitable that I'll sing, ha ha. Do you eat dessert after dinner? Very, very rarely. Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behavior the next day? No. When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? I don't go out drinking, but if I was to order a drink right now, I'd go for a sangria. That sounds soooo good rn. What was the last animal that you saw? My cat. Venus is in her hide as I'm answering this, so I can't see her. What was the last thing that you said to one of your siblings? I told Nicole bye when she was leaving the other day. What is the most expensive thing that you’ve purchased that you paid for: My snake. What is your favorite messaging program? Discord, nowadays. Do you eat fast food more than 5 times a week? Yikes, no. Have you ever almost drowned? No. Have you ever learned something shocking about someone through Facebook? It wasn't shocking in a bad way, just very unexpected. One of my friends has been an egg donor twice, I wanna say? What’s the scariest living animal that you’ve petted? I have no clue. Nothing that dangerous. Well wait, I shared the story of holding a tarantula before, and I was still kinda nervous to do so when I did. She was a total sweetie, though. Do you remember the first conversation you ever had with the person you currently have feelings for? I actually don't. Other than he got my attention with "lip ring girl," lmao. Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why? No, because they're all the same to me. If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it? I add a bit of sugar. What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep? *shrug* Choose one - Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Milky Way, 100%. Do you use Mozilla Firefox? No, I use Chrome. Who is your favorite person to hug? Sara. Have you ever had to have a mug shot? No. What was the last thing you carried to your room? Water. When was the last time you had a late night phone call? Damn dude, I couldn't possibly tell ya.
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miyaniacs · 4 years ago
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hello! i just wanted to say that i'm really proud of you for making it so far and it's honestly really inspiring to me. i've struggled with my appearence so much and i saw your requests are open, could you possibly do kuroo, kenma, and bokuto with a s/o who's insecure about being thin hc? thank you sm im advance and i hope things ease up soon 💖
Thank you baby 🥺❤️
And ok so first of all - I think people forget that in today’s society everyone feels insecure about their body even thin people- especially now I feel like thin women feel insecure about not having this ig curvy body - women are pressured so badly for having to have the perfect body - but the perfect body for women is on that is most likely not achievable without getting surgery. Also I feel like every week there is another unrealistic trend that media creates for us to have. And also men are pressured for having to be muscular if not they are not really considered manly.
Ok to the request :
Warnings : me ranting about fashion in bokutos lol
Masterlist
HC s/o who’s insecure about being thin
Kuroo
Soo when he realized how insecure you are for being thin he was confused
Like isn’t this what everyone wants to be rn?
So he asked you about it
When you’re female : you explain that you feel extremely uncomfortable for not having those curves and that you probably also don’t feel like a “women” since - “real women have curves” all those pictures you see on social media make you feel insecure for not having those ‘thick thighs’ and amazing boobs
When you’re male : you explain that you feel insecure that you’re not strong enough, that you look like a stick ( I do know more than one males that are really insecure about not having much muscle )
For both ways : you explain that you feel bad for not having anything for him to grab on while cuddling or having sex, that all your clothes don’t seem to properly fit and when you’re wearing shorts or a bikini people would think your anorexic ( actually what a girl I known struggles with - she’s just thin but people assume she has an eating disorder)
He will listen not saying anything until you’re finished
He will hold your hands and tell you that he never thought any of those things. He loves your body - you make him feel more buff haha
He also asked if there’s a reason why you don’t gain weight - like some medical condition
Also he would ask you if you want to work out with him. Since you’re thin you will easily see results soon - and you will feel more comfortable when you’re able to see those abs or the definition on your legs - and even doing sports will make you feel better because you do something
He will also help you set up a meal plan - so you will get the right amount of proteins, fats, carbs etc.
He will also make sure to show you how much he loves your body using words as : god your so beautiful / hot / jaw dropping etc.
Buys you cute lingerie too
AND right after you first talked about this he asks you to give him your phone - he goes straight on social media and unfollows all those accounts and follows ones that have a body type similar to yours.
Kenma
He loves the fact that you’re thin
He’s not the tallest and buffets gut himself so he likes the fact that he still feels able to protect you ( not that you need this but just for his ego )
You two were playing video games when the comment : god I wish I’d had this body - left your mouth while looking at one of those characters
He immediately stoppes the game and looks at you
“That’s what bothers you?” You blinks still not believing what he just heard you say
You nod and tell him sincerely that you think that you are too thin
“I love your body - and i don’t mind the fact that you’re thin? You know how much I love yo run my fingers over your rib cage ( you know this dum,dumm dummm - you say in your head when you run your fingers over some bumbs? If so that’s what he always does )
He will switch your gaming plans to cuddle time and makes sure to tell you all those little things he loves about your body - He lets you tell what you hate about it and then tells you his opinion about it
He loves the fact that HE can easily gives you piggyback rides or spins you around when you run to him and jump in his arms
The next day he will ask kuroo for some advice tho and gets some more games where the characters aren’t that unrealistically built
Bokuto
After some time even our baby owl realizes that you wear clothes that hide your BEAUTIFUL BODY??
“Babe, isn’t this shirt a bit too big?”
He finally asks and you tell him that you don’t like how you look in tight clothing
He doesn’t get why so you have to explain it to him
Female : you don’t like that you’re not curvy and that you have rather small breast - so you try to hide it in clothes that you drown in
Male : you don’t like how you your bones stick out, that your legs look like sticks and have no shape in it
So this beautiful baby - right after pulling you in his arms and kissing you - walks to your closet and gets trough you clothes
“ babe. OBVIOUSLY you don’t like your body when you don’t have anything that makes your beautiful features POP !! Get dressed we’ll go shopping now.”
Sooo at the mall he chooses all of the outfits for you and makes you put them on ( yes I belive that he has a nice and modern sense in fashion)
female :
Highwaisted dress pants, bralett and a blazer - CHECK
Oversized T-shirt dress and some combat boots / chunky sneakers to make your LEGS LOOK like they are 2m long - CHECK
Wide leg pants and some oversized T-shirt tugged in to give you some shape - CHECK
Those cute slip dresses - HELL YES
baby t-shirts & tennis skirks with HIS windbreaker- YES
Those cute square neck shirts with puffy sleeves YES !!!
He loves you in his hoodies too
With some tights OR with some wide jeans too
If you’re also on the shorter side - PLATFORM shoes. Yes there aren’t too chunky for you ( for example the puma ones with the Rihanna collab - they are like tennis shoes and actually soo comfy)
Those cute cardigans as a shirt - YES
Hny you need to live out the advantages of not needing to wear a bra !!
Obviously accessories to the MAX
Male
Oversize and layering is the KEY
Also those sweatshirts with a more stiff fabrics
Those wide light blue jeans and a simple slightly oversized t-shirt tugged in with a nice belt - YES
Wide trousers and a tighter shirt AND a loose Oversized shirt
Soo After coming home with a whole new wardrobe you look like a model.
And HE SHOWS YOU OFF SO BADLY & HYPES YOU THE FUCK UP
Calls akaashi over to make you model all your new clothes
You don’t have a choice but your ego goes up a little
Also like kuroo will but you cute lingerie
Bonus for female: will ask you non stop if you want to pierce your nippels because it looks so hot on smaller breast ( on all sizes but in my opinion esp on smaller ones )
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spine-buster · 5 years ago
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the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | 2
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A/N: The first chapter was my first ever chapter of anything to break 200 notes.  I cannot believe how much you guys are already loving this story!  I LOVE YOU ALL!
“You found her?” Bee’s eyes went wide at Fred’s confession.  He’d asked her out for coffee while he knew Morgan would be at the gym (he should be at the gym too, really, but he needed to talk to Bee about this), and naturally she agreed to go.  And naturally, she picked a cute and quaint but private coffee shop, somewhere along Queen Street West, as the meeting destination.  He didn’t care where they ended up – they could have gone to a Starbucks for all her cared – he just needed to speak to her.  She was the one woman he wanted to talk to about this.  
“I found her,” Fred nodded his head.  “The night of your birthday, she ended up getting into my Uber.”
“What?!”
“And then Auston and I went out to Louix Louis, and she was there too.  So we left together and we went over to her place to talk.”
Bee had a physical reaction to the news, holding her arms up like she was asking him to stop, shaking her head and body as she pretended to fall off her chair.  “Hold the phone,” she said.  “Okay, start from the beginning.  And tell me everything.  Don’t leave out any details.”
So he did.  He told her everything – every action, every word said, everything he knew about her: who her parents were and who she was; how she embarrassed the girls at the bar and how he followed her home; her big speech (it was engrained in his memory, practically word for word, and every time he thought about it he remembered something different about it).  And Bee listened to every word.  Her eyebrows got higher and higher with every revelation Fred told her, every new bit of information she learned.  She even whipped out her phone to look her up, and saw the same pictures as Fred did when he did the same.  She agreed that she was stunning, beautiful, that it was unfair how good she looked.
“Have you spoken to her since then?” she asked.
Fred shrugged his shoulders.  “We’ve been texting.  She gave me her number.  But it’s always been pretty elusive.  She thinks…well, I think she thinks she needs to put up a front, or like, a persona of who people thinks she is.  Like she has this image in her mind of what people think her to be and then she acts on that.  But I don’t…that’s not the real her.  At least not to me.  I can see right through it, even though she doesn’t want me to.”
Bee nodded her head.  “What she said to you about people looking at her but not really seeing her – that’s really profound, Fred.  She’s clearly going through a lot – has been going through a lot.”
“But I don’t get it,” Fred continued.
“Looking and seeing are two completely different things.  And people can not be seen in different ways, Fred,” Bee explained.  “Have you ever seen the movie The Breakfast Club?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember Andrew and Allison?  The jock and the basket case?”
“Yeah…”
“Do you remember that scene they had together, where Allison confesses that her problems at home are really bad, and when Andrew asks ‘What’d they do to you?’ she responds, ‘They ignore me’?  And Andrew understands, he completely understands one hundred percent, and he’s visibly emotional and nodding his head and it looks like he’s about to cry?”  Fred waited for Bee to continue.  “Both of their parents didn’t see them – that’s why they were able to sympathize with each other.  That’s why Andrew was on the verge of tears.  Because they saw themselves in the other.  Allison’s parents didn’t see her because they ignored her.  But Andrew – Andrew’s parents were so involved in his life that they completely saw over him.  And that’s ignoring him too.  They were too focused and too invested in his life and didn’t see him for who he was as an individual – they just saw him as an extension of them.  They didn’t allow him to make decisions on his own.  That’s just as bad.”
This was the reason he needed to talk to Bee, because she’d make his head explode with the profoundness yet simplicity of her logic.  He loved her because of it.  He absolutely fucking loved her.  Her life experience gave her the best insight into every situation – at least for him.  Morgan was lucky to have her, but Morgan knew that; he kissed the ground she walked on.  “Yeah…yeah, I get it.”
“Even Morgan,” she continued.  “He didn’t tell me at first he was a player for the Leafs – you know that.  That night I found out, he told me he liked how I didn’t talk to him like he was Toronto Maple Leaf Morgan Rielly.  He liked that I saw him as just some guy. He had never been seen like that up until that point.  I’m sure you’re in a similar boat.”
“I am,” Fred nodded his head.  
“It’s hard when people only see you one way, and don’t see you as this complex person capable of like, different identities.  I bet she feels the same way,” Bee lamented.  “I bet she’s the furthest thing from a cannibal – or if she ever is, she has good reason.”
Fred nodded his head again.  He leaned forward, clutching the coffee cup in his giant hands.  “Listen.  Will you meet her?”
He could see the slight shock in Bee’s eyes at the request, but it soon turned.  “Yeah.  Yeah, of course.  I mean, if she wants to.  Don’t force her or anything.  When?”
“I don’t know.  She’s so hot and cold, I don’t think she’d be cool with showing up at a Leafs event or a game.  But you’ll meet her?  You and Mo?”
“Absolutely.”
***
Aleida didn’t know why she was speaking to Fred.  She didn’t know why she kept speaking to Fred.  She didn’t know why she answered his texts again and again.  And again.  And again.
But just as he was drawn to her so much that he practically scoured every soul in the city for a semblance of just her name after one chance encounter in the middle of the night, she was draw to him, too.  His silence, which juxtaposed her noise.  His introspectiveness, which juxtaposed her emptiness.  His gentility, which juxtaposed her rigidity.  
She didn’t know why he wanted anything to do with her.  She didn’t know what was wrong with him.
She wasn’t the best at making new friends, and that was an understatement.  Perhaps it was because she was a bit brash, definitely arrogant, certainly had an attitude.  She knew what she was like.  She didn’t need anybody telling her.  Maybe she rubbed people the wrong way (she definitely rubbed people the wrong way) – at least some people.  She had friends.  She had people who genuinely liked her, who were loyal to her, who stuck with her through thick and thin.
Fred seemed to be sticking.
Again, she didn’t know why.  She wasn’t the nicest person to Serena and the other girls – whatever their names were – when she saw them with Auston.  She rejected him when he asked to see her perform live.  She was abrasive – lightly abrasive – during their encounters.  But he kept texting.  And texting.  And texting.  It was like he didn’t care.  Maybe he didn’t.  Maybe he was somehow so mesmerized by her he completely looked over it.  
When he knocked on her townhouse door that night, she let him in with ease.  She poured two glasses of wine and sat down on the couch with him and took in how truly big his frame was.  And Fred, for what it was worth, took in her frame too; her tight black turtleneck tucked into her fitted jeans showing off her ample breasts and just about every other asset she had – her entire body, really.  Her asset was her entire body.  She was made known of that.
“Do you wear clothes like that all the time?  Aren’t you uncomfortable?” he asked as he gave her an up-down.
It was only then she noticed his clothes – a comfy looking hoodie and trackpants.  God, they looked like tailored dress pants.  What in the world was he doing?  She knew he was big but surely he could shop in one of those big and tall stores instead of getting custom tailored trackpants to fit him.  “I’m fine.”
“Do you dress like that all the time?”
“Pretty much.  Why does it matter?”
Fred shrugged his shoulders.  “Just seems uncomfortable.”
“Well, that is generally how I make people feel, right?” she tried to joke as she took her first sip of her wine.
“You don’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Fred said.  “Far from it, actually.”
She arched her brow.  “Really?”
Fred nodded his head.  “I don’t know why you think you would.  I have to deal with greasy eBay men wanting my autograph every time I walk out a door.”
Aleida couldn’t help but snort.  A real genuine laugh escaped her.  She couldn’t believe she did that.  “Not to mention girls who are barely eighteen trying to hook up with you.”
“Don’t even get me started,” he shook his head, a wry smile on his face.  “Come on.  Tell me more about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“You’re Cuban?”
Aleida nodded her head.  He was going right for it, and there was nowhere for her to hide.  “Yeah.  Wasn’t born there though – but I kinda grew up between here and Havana before I went to school.  Both of my parents are from there.  It’s their home, so I get why they wanted to raise my sister and I between here and there.”
“Are you fluent?”
“Yeah.  Fluent in Spanish and French, actually.”
Fred wiggled his brows.  “Cultured.  Seems like your family still has a lot of connections there still.”
“I was named after Che Guevara’s wife, so you tell me.”
“Is that true or do you just say that to scare people?”
Aleida was taken aback.  He caught her.  “I…”
“Stop trying to play your act around me.  I’m not buying it.”  His tone wasn’t playful or flirty; it wasn’t trying to joke as a means to get her to open up more.  It was curt and direct.  A cut the bullshit that she didn’t know if she could do.  She had been doing it for so long that sometimes, when she thought about it – when she really thought about it when she was at low points – she sometimes forgot where the act stopped and the real her began.  When she was with people she knew, people she trusted, she was more confident about the real her.  But sitting on the couch with Fred didn’t make her…confident in that anymore.  Even though it was clear he could see right through her guise.  
“I’m not trying to put up an act,” she tried to defend herself meekly.  
“Then what is it?”
A defence mechanism she wanted to say, but couldn’t.  She shook her head slightly and wondered how she could turn the conversation back around.  He beat her to it, knowing she wouldn’t be able to answer.  Knowing she’d just make some excuse or another deflection.  “You know when you were crying in the Shopper’s Drug Mart?”
“Yes…”
“What would you have done if I didn’t bother you?”
Aleida thought about it.  She supposed it really was an interesting sight to see a girl like herself crying in a drug store.  “I don’t know.  Probably would have come back here and cried some more.”
“What were you doing there, anyway?”
Aleida hesitated.  “I don’t even know.  I think I was just blindly walking through the city trying to feel and find something besides grief and loss.  But I didn’t.”
“What about now?”
She shook her head.  
“What are you trying to find?” he asked again.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you were walking through the city trying to feel and find something.  Like, what are you trying to find in this world?  From acting the way that you do.  From being how you are.”
Aleida paused.  “Myself.”
***
Aleida was taken aback by the offer.  “I want you to meet one of my really good friends, Bee McTavish.”  She was apparently the girlfriend of one of his teammates Morgan; a girl he trusted completely, who he respected and who he thought she would like as a person.  “She isn’t like any of the other wives or girlfriends, especially of the younger guys,” Fred said, and Aleida didn’t know if that was misogynistic or the truth.  “She’s just been through so much shit but she doesn’t let it get to her and I admire her for it.”
Aleida was even more taken aback that she agreed to it.  Or that Bee agreed to do it.  She figured Bee and Fred must be incredibly close for him to want Aleida to meet her so…soon.  Fred promised it would be quiet.  That they’d go out for dinner or drinks or something low-key – maybe even something at his place – and that it wouldn’t be this big thing.  
So when she finally met Bee, at Buca Yorkville near the back of the restaurant where nobody would bother them, she realized why Fred wanted this.  
In a city full of wannabes, of girls desperate to get into bars and desperate to get into clubs and desperate to look good and desperate to pose and desperate to take photos and desperate to get likes and desperate to get attention and desperate to make a name for themselves and desperate to be gossiped about and desperate to be seen and desperate about everything, Bee was a breath of fresh air.  There wasn’t a hint of desperation anywhere on her, following her, preceding her – nothing.  And Aleida could tell.  She had a nose for it.  
And when she spoke, Aleida listened.  She hardly did that with anybody that spoke to her, but she did with Bee.  And as she listened, she saw Morgan.  She saw how Morgan looked at Bee like she was the only girl at the table, the only girl at the restaurant, the only girl in the city of Toronto, the province of Ontario, the country of Canada, the continent of North America, the world, the solar system, the Milky Way Galaxy, the universe.  He saw his girlfriend.  He saw her.
She so desperately wanted that.
“You should come to a game one of these days,” Bee smiled at her as the boys drifted off into their own conversation momentarily.  Her offer was so sincere and so warm.  “We can grab a drink one night after I get off work and then head over.”
How could Aleida say no?
***
@aleidacasillas (known Toronto socialite) is dating Freddie Andersen.  Saw them together with Morgan Rielly and Bee McTavish at Buca Yorkville when I was on a date with my boyfriend.  They were sitting near the back.
Yup.  Ally Casillas and Freddie Andersen are def a thing.  I served them.  Seemed like just fuckbuddies tho.  They didn’t give off the couple vibe.  Wouldn’t be surprised, tbh, since Ally is known to be a MASSIVE bitch.  I have no clue what Fred sees in her.
If the rumours are true that Freddie A and Aleida Casillas are seeing each other, Fred’s gonna get his heart ripped out of his chest.  Girl is a fucking cannibal.  She ruins careers.
Aleida Casillas is the most vapid, most self-obsessed, most bitchy woman I’ve ever met.  She’s a known Toronto socialite who rules the social scene.  If it’s true, I have no hope for him anymore.  Can’t believe he’s hanging out with someone so downright mean.
***
Aleida showed up to Scotiabank Arena in head to toe Yves Saint Laurent.  She knew she’d be overdressed, but she didn’t really care.  And the looks she got from the wives and girlfriends just fueled her; she wished she had dressed in something with even more flair to shove the message down their throats.  What was the message?  She wasn’t even sure.  She just knew she was making one. 
She uploaded a story to Instagram.
She watched the game; watched as the wives and girlfriends shuffled through and flashed their designer bags; listened as Bee spoke and struck up good conversation with her.  There was wine and there were snacks and during intermission, Bee told her how she probably wasn’t supposed to say this, but Fred had looked for her, looked for her for a long time, and she was glad that the universe conspired to bring them together the night of her birthday in that Uber.  
When Bee went to the washroom, Aleida met Stephanie Lachance and Madisyn Dunne and Keltie Auerbach and Julia Fitzsimmons – girls.  From Western.  Aleida wanted to spit over her shoulder every time she said that school’s name.  She could tell Steph knew who she was by the way she acted – how her eyes went wide as Bee introduced them before escaping to the washroom and by the way Steph straightened out her back and pushed her Chanel purse forward with her free hand that wasn’t holding a glass of wine.  Aleida couldn’t get over how seriously these girls took a hockey game as a social event.  They would be laughed out of Soho House.
“You’re here with Fred tonight?” Steph asked, taking a sip of her wine.
“I’m here with Bee, actually,” Aleida corrected her.  “She’s the one who invited me.”  She knew Steph only wanted the gossip.
“So Bee’s the one dating Morgan, right?” Keltie whispered, continuing what Aleida assumed to be the conversation the girls were having from before Aleida was introduced.  She loved how Keltie was so overt with her reason to be at the game.  Aleida wondered if Steph would be as open as to admit the reason she brought her friend was to hook her up with a Leaf.  
Steph nodded her head.  “They’ve been going steady for a year now.”
“Bee’s the one with the thank you note, remember?” Julia chuckled.
“Thank you note?” Aleida butt in.
“She wrote a thank you note to Masai Ujiri for getting the Leafs tickets to one of the Raptors playoff games against Golden State,” Julia explained.
Aleida furrowed her eyebrows and visibly grimaced at Julia’s tone and the way the words escaped her mouth.  “What’s wrong with a thank you note?  It’s the polite thing to do.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little – I don’t know, try hard?” Steph asked.  “Like, we’re the Maple Leafs.  We’re all under the same MLSE umbrella.  Did she really have to write him a thank you note?”
“You’re not the Maple Leafs, your boyfriend is,” Aleida clarified for her, probably too harshly.  “Even then – he’s one Maple Leaf.  Don’t people in hockey get traded all the time?”
Steph looked at Aleida like there was a demon emerging from her skull.  “He just signed a seven-year contract.  His AAV is 10.8 million but he’s earning fifteen this year,” Steph clarified for her, as if that explained everything and put Aleida in her place.  
Aleida tried not to visibly scoff at the numbers Steph proclaimed, but she found it hard.  She added an eye roll for dramatic effect.  “Okay, so is ten million or fifteen million the threshold for you thinking you’re too good to write a thank you note?  Or you thinking you’re better than everybody else?” she shot back.  “Manners go a long way.  Don’t be mad that Bee has them and you don’t – develop some of your own instead of talking behind her back and maybe you’ll get the attention you so desperately want.”
Steph’s jaw dropped to the floor.  “I’m fine, thank you very much.  There’s no reason for you to be so blatantly rude to me.”
“There is, actually,” Aleida rolled her eyes again, a small smirk playing on her face, “and if you don’t see why then you need to grow up.  I know Western girls aren’t the classiest but you should work to repair that reputation before your friends here leech you dry for all the clout you’re worth to them.”
And with that, Aleida walked away.
When Bee returned from the washroom – taking a little longer than usual, no doubt because Steph stopped her to explain what happened – she sat beside Aleida, the smallest smirk playing on her face.  “So what happened there?” Bee asked.
“You wrote a thank you note to Masai Ujiri?  For a playoff game or something?” Aleida asked, not looking at her, instead choosing to focus on the team spilling out onto the ice again.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Bee smile.  “I feel like that thank you note is going to follow me for the rest of my life,” she commented.
Aleida finally looked at Bee.  She didn’t even care if Steph told her the truth or not.  Aleida knew Steph probably didn’t, because that meant that Steph would have had to admit she and her friends were talking behind Bee’s back.  “Fred’s been asking to see me perform live, so if you and Morgan ever want to tag along with him, you’re more than welcome – and no-one else,” she offered, choosing not to address it.  Bee, for her part, got the hint.  Thinking that Aleida was going to leave it at that, she settled into her seat comfortably.  It was then that Aleida added her caveat.  “I want you to know you’re the classiest girl in this whole damn arena, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”  
***
“We have an issue,” Mitch approached Fred a few days later, in the middle of some hallway in Scotiabank Arena.  
Fred wasn’t really doing anything, truthfully, but he still wasn’t too keen on the intrusion.  He was well aware of the reputation goalies were known for, and he fit into that pretty well.  He liked to think he was less weird than others, but his teammates probably didn’t think that was the case.  “What?”
“Are you going out with that girl?  Al-ay-da?” Mitch over pronounced her name.
“Aleida?” Fred corrected him.
“Whatever.  Sure.”
“No.  Why?”  He had been wondering when Mitch was going to approach him about this.
“It’s just that…well…when she came to the game the other night, she said some stuff to Steph – some really rude stuff,” Mitch began.  “And Steph told me about it.”
“What did she say?”
Mitch got awkward.  “Apparently Aleida told Steph she was a classless Western girl with no manners who was desperate for attention and thought she was better than everybody.”
“Oh right, that,” Fred said, signifying for the first time his knowledge of the situation.  The way he was so calm about it surprised Mitch.  “Did Steph tell you why Aleida made the comment?”
“N…No…”
“Steph insinuated Bee a try-hard for writing that thank you note to Masai Ujiri,” Fred informed Mitch, who cowered at the bit of information Steph so obviously didn’t tell him.  Mitch even broke eye contact, probably ashamed now that he had even approached Fred about it.  “Aleida probably thought it was a bit warranted.”
“Right…alright,” Mitch said awkwardly, his hands going to his hips as he looked down at the floor and turned on the balls of his feet to walk away.
“See you later.”
***
Fred was mesmerized.  
Aleida stood on stage at the Jazz Bistro, her band supporting her on the piano as her sultry voice filling the room, and Fred couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  He was transfixed.  The sight of her all done up, her long hair in loose Hollywood waves tousled over one shoulder, the shine of her dress, her bold red lip and flawless complexion shining underneath the stage lights…Fred was transfixed.  He didn’t think he took his eyes off her once the second she stepped on stage.  
And her voice.
It went from ethereal to velvet, from rockstar to classical, from jazz to showgirl, and he couldn’t keep up.  She could sing ballads.  She could belt out Elton John.  She could croon in sultry jazz.  She could hold a high note like Adele.  The talent encapsulated within her amazed him.  She could do it all.  She could sound like anything she wanted.  She could play the piano and transform herself into something else – something she wasn’t…or something that she was, that Fred just didn’t know about yet.
But fuck, did he want to find out.  
This is what he missed the night of the event – when he first met her – when he didn’t listen to her.  When he didn’t even realize she was in the room.  It was awful to think that he hadn’t noticed her, her voice and her look and the way she played the piano.  That he had ignored her in a room full of people.  It made him sick to his stomach.  And then he thought about the grief that she was going through that night, and the fact that she had still decided to perform, to go through with the event – and how much pain she had been in that night – and he felt even more sick that he hadn’t noticed.  That nobody had noticed.  What did she sound like that night?  Was her voice full of pain?  Unhappiness?  Sorrow?  Misery?  He’d never know, yet he was so desperate to know.  
Morgan and Bee were there too, but Fred practically forgot about them.  They were quiet as they all listened, smiles on their faces as they watched Aleida perform with her band, but Fred was too busy to focus on them and the fun they were having listening to her.  He was busy thinking about Aleida on stage, what they’d do after, what he’d say to her and she to him.  A million things were running through his mind.  
When the band finished their first set and took their break after a raucous round of applause from the audience, Fred practically leaped out of his seat.  It took him a while to manoeuvre through all the tables and chairs and selfish people not moving for him, but eventually, he reached the back hallway and door where he figured the band was taking their break – where Aleida would be.  He knocked impatiently.  
The drummer answered the door, taking in Fred’s giant frame one foot at a time through the small crack.  “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice confident.  
“Can I see Aleida please?”
“No.”
“No – I’m – I’m her friend,” Fred said, trying to peer into the room and get a glimpse of her.  It wasn’t hard, considering how tall he was and how short the guy was, but he didn’t want to impede or intimidate him.  
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” the guy rolled his eyes.
“No no – I’m her friend, an actual friend,” Fred stressed.
“Listen.  Aleida’s not coming out, alright?  We’re back on stage in fifteen minutes – go sit back down at your table.  If we let Aleida see everyone who claimed to know her she’d never get a break.”
He shut the door in Fred’s face.
It was at that moment that Fred realized Aleida didn’t tell anybody about him.  That he was disconnected with her, that he was nothing more than just some guy wanting to see her.  And there were, apparently, a lot of people wanting to see her.  
His chest tightened.  
He walked back to the table and downed the rest of his whisky sour.  
After the second set, and when the show was over, Fred returned back to the back corridor, this time with Morgan and Bee in tow.  They had been ready to go – Bee explicitly told him “We’re going to leave you alone with her now” – but wanted to be polite and say goodbye first.  It was Bee who decided to knock on the door this time, and it swung open instead of just being cracked open like it had been for him.  Bee charmed the drummer, and within five minutes, Aleida was out.  She gave Bee and Morgan hugs after they gushed about her performance, and they went on their merry way.
Aleida turned towards Fred.  “Did you like it?” she asked.
“You were phenomenal,” he said earnestly, meaning every word.  “But…”
“But what?”
“I tried to come during your break but your drummer wouldn’t let me see you,” he said.  He knew he sounded like a spoiled brat mixed with a wounded puppy but at this point he didn’t care.  “You haven’t…you haven’t told anybody about me,” he said.  He wasn’t here to sulk about it.  He just wanted her to know he knew.
“I don’t want anybody to ruin you,” she said, wrapping her coat around her body.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
Aleida gave him a look.  “Nevermind.  Now are we gonna go or what?”
***
This time, they went back to Fred’s condo.
It was a typical bachelor pad, furniture that looked comfortable enough but that Aleida knew came with the apartment.  Professional athletes weren’t exactly known for their interior decorating skills.  She knew Fred had a couple of drinks at Jazz Bistro, but he opened up his wine fridge and pulled out a white.  He poured them glasses.  They sat on his couch.  Close.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.  
“What are you talking about?”
“You asked me what I was looking for – what I was trying to find by being the way that I am and acting the way I do.  But you never said your answer to that,” she explained.
Their conversations always happened in the dark, and they always had to continue them, apparently.  It was in the darkness where they shed light on themselves.  Fred sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide either.  “Balance.”
“Balance?”
“Balance,” he repeated.  “An eternal search for balance.”
“Why balance?”
Fred shrugged his shoulders, trying to find the right words so that he made sense and didn’t misconstrue himself.  “If there’s no balance, everything else falls too.”
Aleida couldn’t help but smile.  His sentence was so simple but so loaded at the same time.  He was so honest right off the bat.  She had no choice but to respect him for that.  There was no persona like there was with her – no ‘other side’ he put up when he was with her.  She couldn’t say the same for herself, unfortunately.  “That’s profound, Fred.”
He thought back to the profoundness of Bee’s statements on seeing when he told her about Aleida.  Perhaps everybody was profound in their own way, and Fred had yet to realize that.  It had taken him thirty years of his life, but he finally came to the realization.  “It’s not, really – it’s what I need.”
“You need it?”
Fred nodded his head again.  “It’s not a metaphor or anything like that.  When I was a kid, even when I was a teenager, I’d get really competitive and I’d get really angry.  Like, really angry.  I’d erupt like a volcano.  It was bad.  I’ve learned how to compartmentalize it now, through a balance.  And the more balance I find – in my emotions and in my workload and in all things, really – the more things turn out okay.  The more I don’t erupt.”
It was perhaps the most he’d ever spoken in one sitting.  He wasn’t exactly known as a man of many words, but Aleida apparently brought them out of him.  And when she smiled again, he couldn’t help but blush.  He hadn’t opened up like that in a while.  
“What about what you want?” Aleida asked again.  “You’re looking for balance but there must be something you want with that balance.”
Fred shook his head.  It was tough to answer that honestly.  He couldn’t do it without opening up what felt like his entire soul to her.  But all he had to do was take one look at her to make the decision that he would.  “It going to sound…whatever…but I want what Morgan and Bee have,” Fred whispered.
“You’re going to have to explain a bit more.  They were lovely but I’m not sure what you mean,” Aleida said.
“They’re just…it’s hard to explain,” Fred sighed, feeling foolish that he was even saying this out loud.  “They made me believe in the concept of soulmates.  Like, Morgan’s only ever got his eyes on Bee.  She could be talking, or cooking, or doing whatever, and he’s just…always looking at her.  It’s the simplest thing.  But he doesn’t have eyes for anybody else.  His eyes don’t even see anybody else.  The room could be burning and he’d be looking at Bee.”
Aleida thought back to when she met Morgan and Bee, and how much love and respect there was between them; how much Morgan doted on her and how much Bee cared about him.  And she thought about Bee at the game; her distinct persona and the air and grace around her.  “What do you mean ‘the room could be burning’?”
“You know,” Fred began, his tone denoting like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Things could be shit around them, but they’ve got each other.  Morgan could be injured, or playing bad, or Bee could be super-stressed at work or – like, earlier this year, in January, her mother passed away, and she went through a really hard time.  And then a while ago these awful girls began spreading the news that her mom was an alcoholic around town as gossip, and she was really affected by it.  But through all that, they still had each other.  They knew the other would always be there.  So like, the world could be burning, but they know they have each other.”
As Aleida listened to Fred’s words, he could visibly see her face and demeanour change.  She visibly…relaxed.  She realized, right then and there, that she didn’t need to put up any type of front anymore whatsoever.  There was no need for a façade.  Fred was willing to show her a vulnerable side of him; she realized he deserved the same from her.  
“Fred?” her voice was small as she shifted uncomfortably.  
“Hmm?”
She looked at him.  Her mouth draped open slightly in hesitation.  His eyes were so…“I don’t know who I am,” she whispered.  “All my life I’ve been defined by my parents and their jobs.  Nobody ever saw me for me.”
“But your piano teacher did.”
Aleida nodded her head, a single tear falling down her cheek.  “I’m still…grieving about that, you know.  I don’t think anybody will ever truly know how much she meant to me.  How much she helped me.”
“So why aren’t you finding yourself?” Fred asked.  “Why are you letting others define you?”
Aleida shook her head.  “I don’t know.  I don’t…I don’t know.”
Fred looked concerned.  “You know Aleida, you lost somebody who saw you, but the second you did, you gained another.”
She nodded her head.  She knew.  And she could have cried right then and there, but she didn’t.  Instead, she stared into Fred’s eyes, and he stared into hers, and they bonded.  They knew.  No more prefaces.  No more facades.  No more airs and graces.  Just honesty.  
He moved closer to her on the couch, and all she did was watch.  For the first time since he had known her, he acted on his intrinsic need to touch her.  
So he did.  He reached out to touch her.  To lay his hand down on her thigh.
Except when he did, she almost violently flinched back.  
“What –”
“I’m sorry—”
“Are you—”
“I’m f—”
“Is everyth—”
“I’m fine, I’m sorry—”
Fred looked horrified.  His mind was running a mile a minute thinking about the possibilities of why she had flinched at his touch.  His eyes were wide and his body was stiff and he looked like he had just inadvertently broken an entire cabinet of fine china.  “I—”
“Don’t,” she said sternly.  “Nothing’s happened.”
“I don’t know if I believe y—”
“Well, believe me,” she said.  “Others have just been less…soft.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it fucking means,” she said.  “Not everybody who has touched my body has been a nice guy like you, Fred.”  The horrified look didn’t exactly go away at her awful explanation.  “I don’t mean it like th – no, no,” she stressed.  “Nothing has happened.  But people have felt entitled to my body since the second I turned eighteen.  I’m not comfortable with my body.”
It was at that point that Fred’s eyebrows furrowed.  For somebody so visually stunning, who had the perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect everything, he couldn’t believe those words escaped her mouth.  “But y…you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Like I haven’t heard that before.”
“But I actually mean it.”
“I know you do.  So has everyone else.  I own a mirror.”
Fred’s jaw moved in confusion.  “What do you mean when you say people have felt entitled to your body since you turned eighteen?”
“It means my mother and sister are plastic surgeons and they’ve never seen a face or body they didn’t think they could perfect, and I’ve been reminded of that since my mom told me I could get lip injections if I wanted to.”
Fred realized what she was telling him.  It punched him right in the gut.  It took away the breath in his lungs and left his stomach in knots.  He knew that girls always saw flaws in their bodies – he wasn’t stupid – but Aleida?  This was a girl who so blatantly called out plastic surgery and lip fillers in others because she knew her mother did the procedures.  Why would she do such a thing if she herself was self-conscious about it all?  She was more complex than he thought, apparently.  A Dr. Jekyll / Mr. Hyde.  
“Aleida…” Fred said softly, after a long silence so they could both digest the words in their own way.  “I want to touch you.”
“Okay,” she nodded her head.  
He extended his arm again.  This time, when he touched her, she didn’t flinch.  She moved closer towards him until her entire body was touching his.  Their wine glasses forgotten on the coffee table, Fred and Aleida moved until he could wrap his arms around her fully, pulling her down with him to lie down on the couch.  His arms were so big, and his chest was so big, and everything about him, physically, was just so big and warm and Aleida felt completely and utterly repulsed with how she carried herself in comparison to him and how he carried himself.  In every way she could think of, they were nothing alike.  Yet here they were, wrapped into each other on a couch.
“You can’t tell anybody how vulnerable I am,” she whispered, cradling his face in her hand.  Everything about him was so soft and everything about her was so rough, and she didn’t know how they came together.
He nodded his head.  
246 notes · View notes
gra-sonas · 5 years ago
Text
Sweatpants Dick
Pairing: Malex, Alex Manes/Michael Guerin, Isobel Evans/Maria DeLuca (implied)
Additional Tags: Isobel and Alex are besties, Buffy Manes is a very good girl
Words: 3.2K | Rating: T | On AO3
"Please, for the love of everyone, woo him with your dick and get back together?” 
Or the one where Isobel makes Alex buy a pair of gray sweatpants to woo Michael with his dick.
For
@cosmiceverafter, @i-never-look-away and @saadiestuff ♥♥♥
Cosmopolitan Magazine once suggested
Tell your guy to buy light-colored sweatpants. The silhouette of his boner through thick gray cotton is nothing short of art. You deserve this.
This spoke to me as a prompt and I had to write it. There's a lot of talk about dicks/boners/cocks in here, but nothing too explicit actually happens. Uhm... sorry?
~*~
“Black or blue?”
Alex held up two pairs of sweatpants, one black, one a dark blue.
“If you have to buy one of these atrocious looking pants, buy at least a gray one.”
Alex raised one eyebrow in question.
“They may be atrocious looking, but they’re comfy. I only wear them at home anyway. Why gray though?”
Isobel sighed in faux exasperation.
“Did you never read Cosmo, Cap?”
Alex’s eyebrow climbed a little higher on his forehead.
“I'm friends with Maria and Liz, of course I read Cosmo. When we were teenagers.”
“Well, seems like you learned nothing, honey.”
She changed her posture to a somewhat dramatic pose.
“The silhouette of his boner through thick gray cotton is nothing short of art,” she declaimed.
Alex’s eyes were in severe danger of bugging out of his head. He blinked.
“Say what now?”
“Come on, Alex. Have you never seen a man sporting a boner in gray sweatpants? If so, I’m feeling very sorry for you.”
“Uhm.”
Alex struggled not to blush, but damn, Isobel talking so bluntly about boners was giving him a hard time (not literally, thank god).
“You can’t tell me you were in the Air Force for over a decade and you never saw anyone with a semi or full hard-on in sweatpants?”
“Believe it or not, Isobel, people tend to be very private with their boners around the gay guy. Wouldn’t want to tempt him.”
Isobel looked offended.
“Ugh, these people would’ve been so lucky for you to pay attention to their inferior dicks in the first place.”
She grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants from the table, checked the label and looked over her shoulder at Alex.
“Come on, Cap, this is your size, and I’m ready to commit murder for a coffee. Go get the other bags and meet me at the exit.”
With that Isobel left Alex standing in the middle of the shop and went to pay for the gray sweatpants. Alex sighed. He quickly re-folded the black and blue pants he was still holding and put them neatly back where he’d found them. Then he picked up the bags from their earlier shopping spree and followed Isobel.
When they sat at their usual table at the Crashdown half an hour later, Alex had had enough time to get his composure back.
“So, Evans, what do you know about boners in gray sweatpants?”
Alex smirked when Isobel almost choked on the sip of coffee in her mouth. Alex handed her a napkin. She grabbed it and dabbed at a spill of coffee on her chin.  
“I grew up with a brother.”
Alex’s face twisted in disgust.
“Ew, Isobel, please don’t ever give me the mental image of your brother with a boner.”
Now it was Isobel’s turn to smirk.
“Well, I know for a fact that you’re only opposed to the mental image of one of my brothers’ boner.”
Alex hung his head and was ready to just die on the spot.
“I can’t believe that we’re having this conversation at three in the afternoon.”
“What, do you only talk about dicks at night?”
“If you don’t mind, I would prefer not to talk about dicks with you at any time of the day.”
Isobel reached across the table and pinched Alex’s cheek.
“Don’t be a prude, honey. You’re just worried I’m going to mention my brother’s boner again.”
Alex scrunched his face in disgust.
“Could you please stop mentioning Max, and especially his dick?”
Isobel’s smile turned almost diabolical.
“Who says I was talking about Max this time? If it makes you feel more comfortable, we can talk about Michael’s dick.”
“What do I have to do to make you stop talking about dicks in general, and your brothers’ dicks in particular?”
“Wear those gray sweatpants the next time Michael comes over to fix something at the cabin and show off your goods.”
“My dick is also off limits as a talking point.”
Isobel schooled her expression and looked at Alex earnestly.
“Alex, I’ll stop talking about dicks, but please, consider this at least? I know you two have been dancing around each other for a while now, building a friendship and all that. But the pining’s reaching unbearable levels. On both sides. Please, for the love of everyone, woo him with your dick and get back together?”
Alex took a deep, steadying breath.
“I love him, and he loves me. I know that. He knows that. We’re just both afraid we’ll fuck it up again. That’s why we’re so hesitant.”
Isobel took Alex’s hand in hers.
“I know. But you two? You are ready. Have been ready for a while. Woo him with your dick, or just talk to him. You’re not teenagers anymore, neither are you the very broken men you were a year ago. You’ve worked so hard on both yourselves individually, and on your friendship. You won’t fuck it up, I promise.”
Alex nodded slowly.
“I guess you’re right. I don’t really feel like wooing him with my dick, but I’ll try to be brave and talk to him next time we see each other.”
“That’s my boy! I’m so proud of you. You’ll make each other so happy.”
Isobel pulled Alex’s hand up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.
“Go get him, tiger!”
Alex laughed.  
“Alright, alright. I’ll go and on my drive home I’ll think of a reason to ask him to come over tonight.”
He gave her a stern look.
“And no, I won’t be wearing those sweatpants.”
Isobel pouted.
“You’re no fun, Manes.”
“If you’re so fond of gray sweatpants, why have I never seen you wearing them around Maria?”
Isobel gave him a wink.
“I know you’re gay and probably not familiar with the female physique, but did you skip sex ed? I’m missing a prominent detail in my nether regions to show off in said pants. I’ve invested in some sheer blouses and nice underwear instead. Which seems to do the trick. I’ve seen her check out my cleavage more than once whenever I spent time at the Pony.”
Alex smiled at her warmly.
“Maybe you should also make a move then?”
Isobel gave his hand another squeeze.
“You know what, that’s probably a good idea. Let’s both go home, dress nicely and get what we want.”
They grabbed their bags, put enough cash to cover their coffees and a generous tip on the table, waved goodbye to Arturo and left the Crashdown. When they reached Alex’s car, Isobel pulled him into a one-armed hug.
“Good luck, Cap. Text me later.”
Alex inhaled her perfume and let the flowery smell comfort him. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.
“Good luck to you, too, Iz. I have a feeling you might get lucky tonight.”
He opened the door of his car and placed the shopping bags on the passenger seat before he climbed in, waved at Isobel one final time, and drove off.
The closer he got to his cabin, the more nervous he felt. He knew that Isobel was right. They were ready. As ready as two people could be after everything they’d been through. The thought of having that talk with Michael was still terrifying and made his palms feel sweaty.
Buffy greeted him with an excited ‘woof��� when he opened the door to the cabin. She dropped to the floor and showed off her belly the second the door fell shut behind him, a not so subtle prompt for him to give her belly rubs. He dropped the bags where he stood and kneeled carefully to play and snuggle with his good girl for a while.  
When his knees started hurting, she got up and gave him a soft head butt, as if to tell him to take care of himself. Then she waddled off to plop down on her dog bed for a nap. Alex pulled a nearby chair close enough to support himself standing up. He turned around in search of the shopping bags. They were still near the door. One had toppled over, and the pair of gray sweatpants had fallen out.
“I can’t believe Isobel Evans talked me into buying gray sweatpants to show off my dick,” he murmured to himself. What exactly was so special about a hard dick in those? He grabbed the pants and the bags and slowly walked over to his bedroom. He checked on Buffy once more. She’d grabbed her favorite plush toy (a little green alien Michael had given to her; she’d covered him in wet dog kisses in her excitement about the gift) and had fallen asleep curled around it. He smiled, then turned back around and closed the door behind him.
He went over to his bed and took everything he’d bought out of the bags. He laid the items out on the comforter to assess where everything should go in his closet – most prominently the pair of gray sweatpants. On a whim, he took off his boots, wriggled out of his jeans and rolled down his socks and flicked them in the direction of the hamper. Then he reached for the sweatpants and stepped into them. He bent down, adjusted the hem around his prosthetic leg, and slowly pulled them up. They felt nice and were very comfy but there was absolutely nothing special about them. Apart from the color, they were like any other pair of sweatpants he’d ever owned.  
He stepped in front of the large mirror near the window and looked at himself. His hair was tousled, the dark red Henley clung to his torso and showed off his lean waist, toned arms and broad shoulders nicely. As a kid, he’d been small and gangly. Even as a teenager who went skateboarding every day, he’d never been overly broad or muscular.
A decade in the Air Force had given him the body of a man, though. A soldier, ready and able to attack and stand his ground in combat. Even after losing his leg, he'd worked hard to keep in shape. He was rigorous about his PT exercises to ensure he was as agile and strong as his prosthetic would allow him.  
He looked down at himself in the mirror. At his bare feet. One human, one artificial. The sight no longer made him flinch, and he was grateful. There had been times when he couldn’t stand looking at his feet, a constant reminder of war and his loss.
Finally, he looked at the part of his body his newest piece of clothing was supposed to make look outstanding. Alex frowned. His dick wasn’t exactly on the small side, but there was no outline visible. He sighed.
“She said ‘silhouette of a boner’, didn’t she?”  
He grabbed his junk through the thick fabric and gave it a tug. His dick did not react. Of course not, it had no reason to react to a random tug. Alex considered his options for a second. He didn’t look himself in the eyes through the mirror, instead his eyes followed his hands as they slowly pulled down the waistband of the pants, followed by the waistband of his black boxer briefs.
He pulled his dick out, adjusted his balls, and started stroking. It felt weirdly intimate to look at himself masturbating in the mirror. His dick slowly started hardening under his experienced strokes. He wasn’t actually horny, but soon enough his dick had filled out completely and was hard enough to try and see whether Cosmo had been right.
He adjusted his dick in his boxer briefs before he pulled up the sweatpants.
Mhm, not much to see through the folds of the fabric, but what if he bent his cock slightly to the left so it would rest against the curve of his hipbone? He did just that and when he looked in the mirror again, the outline of his hard dick was clearly visible.
“Niiiice,” he said to himself and smirked.
Before he got a chance to consider whether to follow through with what he’d started, he heard a noise coming from the porch. Then Buffy let out a small bark in the living room, and Alex forgot about his boner instantly.
He opened the door of his bedroom and walked to the front door in long strides. He wrenched the door open, Buffy at his heels, when he saw a familiar face under the brim of a black cowboy hat looking at him with wide eyes.
“Shit, Alex, you startled me.”
Alex let out a loud sigh of relief.
“Michael, I didn’t expect you. Neither did I hear your truck. What are you doing here?”
“Isobel called and told me you mentioned a broken porch light when you were at the Crashdown with her. I finished early and thought I’d come over to fix it.”
Michael’s eyes slowly wandered down Alex’s figure to take in the sight of the man he loved. He liked the maroon Henley Alex was wearing a lot. He’d never seen Alex wear those sweatpants before. They were gray and hung low on his hips and... Michael blinked. He looked again, then blushed furiously.
Unless Alex hid some kind of tool (or toy, Michael’s brain provided, completely unhelpful) or a banana in his pants, the outline of Alex’s hard cock was clearly visible underneath the soft looking fabric. Michael gulped.
“Uhm. Sorry, I... I'll just change the light bulb and be out of your hair in a second.”
Alex frowned. Why was Michael acting so weird, and why would he want to leave so fast?
“Thanks, but don’t you want to come in before you leave? There’s beer in the fridge, and I’m sure Buffy would love a thorough belly rub from you.”
Alex tried to think of other incentives to make Michael stay.
“Oh yeah, Buffy. Uhm, I could take her for a walk or something? Give you some privacy?”
Michael’s face was beet red, and he tried desperately not to look at the silhouette of Alex’s dick.
“Privacy? What for?”
Alex didn’t understand.
Michael blushed harder, if that was even possible. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he nodded in the general direction of Alex’s dick.
“To take care of that? Looks like you were in the middle of something when I disturbed you. Poor timing on my end, I’m sorry.”
Alex made a noncommittal noise, then it was his turn to blush.
“Oh my god, no. I mean, it looks like I was in the middle of something, but I only wanted to see if Cosmo was right.”
Michael looked confused.
“Cosmo? Never heard of him. Some new guy you met at the conference last week?”
Michael tried his best to keep any kind of jealousy and judgement out of his voice, but it was hard. Shit, they’d been so close to getting back together recently, and now there was a new guy on the horizon? When Alex let out a breathless laugh, Michael looked up.
“Cosmo as in Cosmopolitan, Michael. The magazine?”
Michael’s face turned into a giant question mark.
Alex sighed.
“This is all your sister’s fault. She bought these sweatpants for me to woo you with my dick.”
“Isobel did what to make you what?”
Alex dropped his head to hide his blushing cheeks. When he heard Michael step closer, he froze. Michael was really close suddenly, and Alex’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest any second.
“You know how much I love your dick. I just don’t quite understand what these pants have to do with any of it?”
Alex looked up.
“The silhouette of his boner through thick gray cotton is nothing short of art,” he repeated what Isobel had told him earlier this afternoon. Then he smirked and looked at Michael, a challenge in his eyes.
“Well, whoever said that, clearly knows what they’re talking about. Not that your dick isn’t always a work of art, but I must admit, it looks particularly mouth-watering through thick gray cotton.”
Alex’s grin almost split his face. Then he flung himself across the short distance between them, right into Michael’s arms. Michael caught him with ease and wrapped him in a tight hug. Michael’s soft curls tickled Alex’s nose when he whispered into his ear.
“I take it the sweatpants wooing worked?”
“Darlin’, you’ve been wooing me with your everything since we were seventeen, and your dick in these pants is a glorious boner... I mean bonus. Any chance I could take a closer look?”
Alex leaned back in Michael’s embrace until he could look him in the eyes.
“I’d love that. You know that this is it, though, right? It’s only going be my dick from here on out.”
Michael looked at Alex earnestly.
“Alex, that’s all I ever wanted. I want you. I want us. I want your dick. Exclusively. Forever.”
Michael took a deep breath, and there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes.
“I love you, Alex.”
Alex didn’t hesitate and closed the gap between their mouths to kiss Michael long and thorough. He put everything into the kiss. The longing, the hunger, the love for the man in front of him. When he was finished having his fill (for the moment at least), he leant back again to look at Michael. He made sure his hard dick pressed into Michael’s crotch, where it bumped into Michael’s growing hard-on. Alex let out a happy laugh.
“I want that, too, Michael. You. Us. My dick being yours, your dick being mine. I love you so much and I’ll never let you go.”
He undulated his hips suggestively, rubbing his hard dick against Michaels.
“Let’s take this inside, cowboy, I wanna show off my dick in these pants some more.”
He took Michael’s hand and led him inside the cabin. Buffy had returned to her dog bed while they'd been talking, and when they entered the living room, she opened one eye and blinked at them as if to check whether they were okay. She seemed to be satisfied with what she saw, pulled her little alien plushie close, and went back to sleep.
--
Later that night, Isobel’s phone buzzed on the nightstand to her left. She dropped a kiss to the top of Maria’s head where it was lying on her chest and carefully picked up the phone, eager not to wake her sleeping lover. When she opened Alex’s message, she just about managed to suppress a delighted squeal.
He’d sent her a photo. A pair of gray sweatpants dropped in a heap on the wooden floor of his bedroom, a familiar black cowboy hat sitting on top of it. His message read. “My thanks to Cosmo (and you!) Coffee at the Crashdown tomorrow at 3pm. My treat.”
Isobel smiled, then she took a photo of her and Maria’s hand, lovingly entwined. She sent it to Alex, adding “It’s a (coffee) date, Cap! <3 We have a lot to celebrate.”
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warmbeebosoftbeebo · 5 years ago
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Truth or Dare? 1/3 probably
much of the details about him in this fic is from things b has said in interviews, on periscope, twitch, twitter... see if you can guess what is true vs details/things i made up. other things, like most of his friends being girls (at least as a kid and teen) i don't think he's ever stated outright but i consider so damn obvious as you learn about him eg the bullying, his best friend in 8th grade was a girl. hopefully, all the things i remember him saying he's actually said and i didn't dream it/imagine it haha. also i love this fic so fucking much if i may say so. one of my faves, to be a braggart. in this universe, he never got introduced to spence or ryan, hence no mentions of them or panic! and him going off to arizona for cosmetology
tag list @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams [just message me to be added or taken off the tag list]
----
You're watching Aladdin with Brendon, after Alice in Wonderland but before Bambi because you don't want to wind up crying yet. He's totally like Flower and Bambi. Loves flowers, flirty and doe-eyed, for starters. He's an Aladdin too, and is singing along with you as you're cuddled up on your bed with him, him absentmindedly playing with, brushing your hair. He stopped styling it a while ago, but you love having your hair played with, scalp massaged, neck too, as much as he does... Even that has arousal spreading, tickling over you.
You don't have class tomorrow, but he has a cosmetology one in the morning. He's still excited about not having someone telling him to get to bed though, and you're too relaxed, and uh... you like how you feel around him too much, how simple things, touches kind of turn you on, to suggest he get to sleep or leave your room. Besides, your roommate went home for the weekend. And these blankets and pajamas are comfy. You wind up getting into A Whole New World though: dramatic actions and singing, batting lashes at each other, giggling, pretending the bed is a magic carpet like the dorks you two are...
You offer your lap for his head to get pets in once the song ends... You love touching his hair. Watching his lashes, eyes, lips in the television light. Hearing his breathing deepening, his sighs, a couple mmms when you stroke the nape of his neck, tug his hair, scritch his scalp. You've only known him a couple months, but... whoo boy. Too bad he's gayer than the day is long. And kind of has a boyfriend from his program, George. Well, a friend with benefits.
“Truth or dare, B?” you ask when the movie ends, but neither of you move.
“'M sleepy from all those pets, y/n, so for once, I'm going with truth.”
“Were you like this as a kid? Was it musicals and wanting to do cosmetology and stuff back then too? Like not being... being... different. From how boys were supposed to be.”
He chuckles. “Pretty much. Did skateboarding for years, and some soccer, but that was pretty much the extent of the manly shit. Well, the heavy metal too. And lots of people did pot. But mostly the kind of things people thought boys shouldn't do. Most of my friends were girls. Still are. Liked making people laugh, entertaining them. Gymnastics, dance; just messing around not pro. Did sets for the drama kids in high school. I fit in with some guys, mostly chill stoner or art types, guys who weren't straight, but not many. Sometimes I had to fake it to get by with guys, if it even worked. But mostly stuff like the dress up box.”
“What'd you dress up as?”
“Different musical roles, like Maria and Cosette, Jean Valjean. I remember being about five and wrapping curtains around myself like a dress and singing Sound of Music. Cheerleader with the miniskirt and all from my older sister Kara. Uh... pirate, cowboy, or cowgirl. Elvis, Carly Simon, Gwen. Wanted to sound like her so bad. Beyonce. David Bowie in Labyrinth, without a proper wig though. And a few of the personas he had different eras too. Jareth was mixed up in a crush on him. Like I wasn't sure how much I wanted to play that role versus liked David... At twelve, with Jessica Alba, that was a lot clearer. Make up too, some wigs. Lots of my mom's clothes. I'm sure you can tell on that last one.” He still wears women's jeans now. And hoodies, shirts, a couple pairs of sneakers...
“Oh, a weird flower boy version of Rambo,” he laughs. “Like the headband, but my mom's blouse and jeans, a bouquet of flowers, heels, dad's sunglasses... Still have a picture of that one. And we have lots of home movies of stuff. Me being a lounge singer with a feather boa and gold dress... seducing my mom. Oh, shit, can't believe I just admitted that aloud. Anyway, there was firefighter, seamstress, servant, scuba diver, vet... Vampire, fairy, witch. Playing a mom or sister in plays, like sometimes one of my sisters would be the dad, I'd be the mom, or we'd be three sisters. Or they'd be the mom and dad and I'd be their baby. I remember one where I was pregnant—pillow and doll baby, haha—and Kyla was the pirate doctor helping me deliver on the ship. Or the damsel in distress being rescued by them. Or kidnapped by them. Or we had to save our mom, the queen, from a dragon or evil king.”
They were imaginative too! You're picturing them, little Brendon in these outfits, roles. So cute, and silly, and did you say cute? He must've been adorable, playful and an entertainer back then, too. He's done an open mic a few times and sings and plays at parties with friends. You've seen him do it last Saturday, nervous but eager to sing and play guitar, or keyboard. He said that music was his favourite hobby, that he loves doing it, especially for people, but you had no idea how deep it went.
“Me in my sister's gymnastic leotard, but over my shorts because she didn't want it so close to my crotch.”
The crotch part makes you think of it: if he wears... uh, panties too? The thought makes you flush and feel embarrassed. You haven't seen him in a dress or skirt either, but he used to wear those. You wonder if he still does and you just haven't seen it. You think they'd suit him for some reason. The lavender hoodie, the pink sneakers, plus a miniskirt? Denim, or black. God, you bet that he'd look even better, draw you to him more.
“Wish we had dress up stuff to play with here, B. Bet it was fun. And I bet you looked so cute.”
He gets up, but it's to turn on the lamp; the tv had gone dark. He bats his lashes. “Oh, I did.”
You both laugh as you throw a pillow at him. “Goofball. Don't ever let me tell you you still look cute, then. And that I actually would want to see you with a dress up box.”
“Truth or dare?” he asks. You'd forgotten how this started.
“Truth?” Neither is a safe bet, so you just go with what he went with to even it out.
“Would you want to see me dressed up? Like... in things here... of yours?”
Your breath catches. Are you that obvious? You nod, asking “Truth or dare?”
He grins. “Whattaya think, y/n? Dare.”
“M-maybe... uh... a skirt? On you, I mean?”
“That can be arranged.” He practically bounces over to your closet, sorts through, deciding on a long soft blue and lilac hippieish flowery one that goes to your ankles, a purple plaid one that comes to your knees but would be two to three inches shorter on him, and your denim one that's so short it would be a mini on him. You wear it with black tights or other pants it's so short. Really, he picked most of them; you only have two others. He holds them out one by one, then places them over his hips: “Which one would fit me best?”
You get flustered, because you want to see the denim one most, but worry it would be too short for him. The plaid one? It gives “naughty schoolgirl” vibes to boys and men, older pervs included, so you don't wear it much, even though it reminds you of a newly formed coven of witches stuck at a Catholic school for some reason (you blame The Craft). You wonder what'd look like on him. You bet he's worn skirt school uniforms before, and that he'd get cheesy with it, calling you Miss and asking hammily but flirtatiously about extra credit, asking you to teach him, maybe bending over... which not going to lie, you do want if it got sexily funny, but you know it couldn't mean anything.
He grins. "Warning ya, my legs are really hairy, so you might wanna go with the longest one. What can I say, I've got Jewish legs."
You snort. "Guess I've got Jewish legs too: my hair is a light brown, but there's lots of it below my knees. I stopped shaving now that it's November." You can't help wondering if he's dressed up for Hallowe'en in a girl's costume, or in drag, and what he'd look like; even some guys who are kind of sexist and homophobic do that for Hallowe'en, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary even outside of the gay bar you and he were let into a few times, because George knew the bouncer. Both of your first one, bar or gay bar.
"Oh, I bet I've got more than you," he jokes, and slides his pant leg up a bit, doing a "banananana" strip tease music thing, shaking his leg, making you both giggle.
"Go with the shortest one, B. Bet you'd look super sexy," you reply, hammily winking.
"No peeking!" he admonishes teasingly, hiding behind your closet door, but he pops his booty out and sways it before hiding again. His jeans quickly get flung towards you to him laughing, "Hey, you ever see that British film The Full Monty?"
"It's kinda tight on my ass, but loose on my hips. What can I say? I bring the booty. But your hips are more womanly than mine, alas," he sighs dramatically. “And your thighs are damn. Um. At least it covers my underwear. Pretty much.” He peeks out, excited. "Ready? I just wanna make sure you're prepared for my hairy ass legs, oh and my stunningly gorgeous ass."
"Pshaw, I know that that booty brings all the boys to your yard, you tramp." He's really a tease at that bar. Both guys his age and kind of older, but only one creep. He always drinks for free, gets you drinks too, and you alternately keep close and watch from afar and let him do his thing with said boys. He only talks with most, often dances, but if he likes the guy, the dancing goes beyond pg territory, kissing too, and he even went home with one of them.
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katurrade · 6 years ago
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Secrets and Sins 10
This is not your normal TRR story. This is a complete AU. A mobster AU. Hopefully you enjoy this, it’s dark and twisted, but should be a fun ride. It’s also written in a reader format, not a MC format. (Y/N = Your Name. Y/L/N = Your Last Name) Enjoy!
Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye. Catch up HERE.
Word Count: 3,730 ish.
Pairing: Mobster!Liam x Reader.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Possible NSFW content in later chapters. Flashbacks of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse. Possible triggering thoughts and feelings. Probably more warnings to come.
A/N: *throws canon out the damn window* YEET.
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You woke up to the bright light coming in through the window. You were still wrapped up like a human taco in the blankets, in the exact same place you had fallen asleep in. Making you instantly realize you’d obviously slept so well, so deeply, that you hadn’t even moved a damn muscle all night. You reached your arms up above your head to stretch, while your toes pointed in the other direction. The motion causing the blankets to shift which sent a waft of a very familiar scene up at you. You breathed in deeply and sighed out contently as the smell of Liam took over your senses. You hadn’t noticed in your tired state the night before, just how much the shirt smelt like him.
You pulled the neck hem up to your nose and took another deep breath, the smell calmed you even more. He had such a unique scene, it was manly, yet refined with a hint of musky undertones. Whatever his cologne was, it suited him perfectly.
You felt wonderful this morning. Well rested and refreshed. However, your stretching had made you instantly away of your need for a bathroom. You wondered what time it was so you lifted your head up to look for your purse, realizing you have left it downstairs with your phone in it. Shit. Okay, game plan time. First you’d need to find a bathroom, then you’d need to go get your purse.
You rubbed your eyes then pulled yourself out of the plush bed and finally took in the room around you.
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Of course it was just as stunning as the rest of the house. Why wouldn’t it be? You laughed softly to yourself as you pictured your still really empty apartment and your air mattress for a bed.
You padded across the floor to the door and opened it slowly to peer out. Liams door was still closed and you didn’t hear any voices from around the house. Or at least within ear shot, because this place was fucking huge. You opened the door fully then tiptoed out and to the top of the stairs.
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You leaned over the edge to scope things out and still didn’t hear or see anyone. But you did notice the open door to the right of the front door. You could see a sink through it and figured that must be a pounder room. You quietly made your way down the stairs, still extra vigilant for noises around you. You got to the powder room and slipped in, flicking on the lights and closing the door softly behind you. Once you were done you entered back out into the foyer, as you once again didn’t hear any noises.
At this point you figured you were probably either the only one up or the only one home. You made your way back towards the kitchen again, entering it to see your purse on the counter still. You walked over to grab it and pulled out your phone. You had a new message from Hana saying ‘Hey girly, how was your day off? You free later?’. You snorted and chuckled lightly at that. Your day off had started great then went to complete shit, only to then end up okay again. You shook your head. You still couldn’t believe you had spend the night in the King of New Yorks massive ass house. Plot twist. Oh how quickly things can change in a matter of hours. You fired off a reply to her ‘It was interesting. I’ll tell you about it another time. As for if I’m free, I honestly don’t know, I’ll get back to you on that!’
You were about to make your way out of the kitchen when you heard the front door open and a few voices talking loudly. Shit. You froze and instantly started looking for places to hide. You hadn’t gotten a full tour of the house so you weren’t sure what doors led to where. You spun around a couple times looking for an escape, but then stopped looking when you realized the voices were now close. So close that they were probably standing right behind you, in the kitchen doorway.
You slowly turned around and were met with 3 sets of eyes, all staring silently at you. There eyes low on your body. You looked down to see what they were looking at and instantly remembered you didn’t have pants on. Fuck. You grabbed on to the bottom of Liams shirt and tugged it down your legs as far as you could before awkwardly looking up again.
A woman, the same one from the night before, spun around and swatted the two guys “Okay, shows over. Fuck off now.” She said as she continued to swat them away. Both men jokingly flinching like she was hitting them hard, but then they both turned and walked away. Once they were out of sight she turned back to you with a sweet smile on her face “Y/N, I’m Mara, it’s a pleasure to actually meet you.” She walked towards you with her hand extended out.
Mara. Right, the one Liam assigned to watch me. You shook her hand “It’s nice to meet you too,” you looked down at your clothes, or lack there of, again “I wish I’d have been wearing pants for this moment though.” You laughed awkwardly.
“It’s okay, nothing I haven’t seen before.” She froze, eyes widening “I don’t mean you, I haven’t seen you like this befor—“
You laughed loudly and waved a dismissive hand “It’s okay, I totally know what you meant.”
She smiled “Okay, good! And sorry about the guys, I swear they are all really good dudes, they just clearly don’t see half naked woman often.”
Just as you were about to open your mouth to respond you heard someone clear their throat behind Mara and looked up to see Liam now standing in the doorway, frozen, with Drake right behind him. What is this a damn house party now? Of course you’d be the only one at the ‘party’ with no damn pants on. You groaned softly as Mara turned to see what you were looking at. Then she laughed wildly “Okay, let’s go get you some pants before the whole house turns into a gawking mess.”
You bit your pip to keep from laughing as you nodded your response. Not missing Liams eyes travelling down your body, as he took in your near nakedness in front of him. Subtle he was not. But you then noticed that Drake had done a 180 and now had his back to you. Clearly trying his hardest to not be apart of this whole awkward interaction.
Mara went to lead you out of the kitchen, which meant you would have to walk directly passed Liam and Drake. Who had now both backed up into the hall to let you pass. Drake still facing away from you. Liam still staring at you, something in his eye made your heart flutter. And part of you was sure if there hadn’t been anyone else around he would have pick you up, thrown you over his shoulder and carried your ass up stairs to show you just what he thought of you, half naked, in his shirt. The thought sent a pleasant chill down your spin.
You slowly walked passed him in the hall “Morning.” You said with a smirk. Figuring to just own this awkward situation as best you could.
He cleared his throat and you swore you saw a blush on his face as he spoke “Morning.” He paired it with an awkward head nod. You made a mental note that you could, in fact, fluster him in return. Vowing to use that intel at a later date. And often.
You chuckled as you continued on your way to your room. Knowing full well that his eyes were still on you. You could damn near feel them on your back. So you played up your walk a bit, wiggling your hips just a little as you went. Might as well give him something to look at. Well, besides you in just his shirt.
Once you got into the foyer, Mara picked up a few bags and followed you up the stairs to your room. You both entered it and she began to speak “Liam asked me to go collect your clothes from your apartment this morning.” She put the bags down on the bed “I hope you don’t mind that I did, it just isn’t safe for you to return home yet.”
You looked at her “Ah, thank you. It’s fine, I needed them.” You waved a hand dismissively then looked at the bags “So, when do you think I’ll be able to return home?” You asked.
“That I don’t know. You’d have to ask Liam. But I’ll leave you to get changed, I’ll be down stairs when your finished.” She smiled.
But just as she went to turn away “Mara wait,” you said. She stopped and turned back to you. “I just, wanted to say thank you for last night.” You paused and played with the hem of Liams shirt again “Ah, actually, I guess for more then just last night.” You finished and looked back up at her.
She shook her head “No thank you needed, it’s my job.”
“I know, but still, thank you. For everything.” You gestured around the room with both hands, before abruptly dropping them to your side when you realized the action lifted the shirt higher up your thighs.
A part of you had wanted to ask her what they did with the shit brick house, from last night. But another part of you didn’t really want, nor care, to know what they had done with him. All you did know was that you’d probably never see him again, and that’s all that mattered really.
She smile and nodded then exited the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. You opened the bags to look for an outfit to wear. You put on a pair of black leggings, a white tank top and a light grey oversized sweater. Today was your second, and last, day off work and you were not down with tight jeans today. You just wanted to be comfy.
Now dressed your next mission was coffee, and stat. You headed back down stairs and to the kitchen once again. Finding Mara there making a pot of coffee.
“Ooh thank god.” You sighed happily as you went to sit on a bar stool. Hearing Mara chuckle over her shoulder at your excited reaction.
“I’m guessing you’re a coffee drinker?”
“More like a coffee addict.” You laughed.
She laughed to “Then you’ll fit right in here.”
Just as you were about to speak again, a loud group of men came wandering into the kitchen. You recognized Drake first, then the guy from last night, the one that was helping Mara with your attacker, and then the two guys from earlier, that Mara shoo’d away, however, the last one you had never seen before.
Drake came over and leaned his elbows on the counter in front of you “Morning, glad to see you found some pants.” He joked.
You burst out laughing then replied “In my defence, I didn’t think anyone was home.”
“Suuuuuure.” He mock rolled his eyes then smirked. “That’s what they all say.”
You halted entirely and looked down at your hands clasped together on the counter as your brows furrowed together at his comment. ‘What they all say’? What was that supposed to mean? You’d be silly to think you were the first woman Liam had ever brought home. Durp. Of course there had been others. But at the same time, was that all you were to him, just another woman in the endless parade of women? Were you just working your way up to being another notch in his belt? If that was the case then you weren’t interested in that. You refused to just be a random number in a mans life. Regardless of who that man was. Fuck no, not you thing.
“Good job, Walker. You already managed to piss her off and it’s not even 10 am yet.”
Your eyes snapped up to look at the man now talking. He slapped Drake upside the head as he walked passed him and around the kitchen island to you, extending his hand once he got close enough. “Hey Doll, I’m Bastien. My friends call me Bash.”
You reached out and shook his hand “Y/N. My friends call me Y/N.” you smiled, cheekily.
He laughed then looked over to Drake “I like this one.” Then he turned back to you “And I know your name, I’ve heard lots about you.” He said with a smirk. “Let me introduce the guys. Drake you already know, so just ignore him, like the rest of us do.” He chuckled and winked at you as Drake instantly feigned offence. “That cut’s deep, Bash.”
He rolled his eyes then pointed to the guy from last night “That’s Rashad.”
He smiled at you and you smiled back “Thank you for last night.”
He shrugged “No worries, it’s my job.”
Then Bash pointed to one of the two guys from earlier “That’s Sam.” He then pointed to the other “And James.”
You waved awkwardly at them both then Mara pipped up “Coffees ready,” she glared and pointed at the men “but ladies first.” She scolded.
A couple of the guys groaned and you giggled at that as you got up off your chair and went to go make a cup of coffee. Once you had it made you went to sit back down to enjoy the freshly brewed cup of heaven.
All the men made their coffees then trickled out of the room, one by one. Leaving just you and Mara, after a few minutes. You took a sip of your coffee then held it with both hands in front of you, smelling the sweet aroma of it as Mara joined you at the counter, sitting on a bar stool to your right.
“Is it always this crazy around here?” You asked.
“Yeah, for the most part.” She shrugged “This place is sort of like a club house. All of us spend our free time here, a few of us even live here.”
“Oh,” you turned to looked at her “Other people live here besides Liam?”
“Yeah. Drake has a room down the hall, by Liams office. Regina stays in the suite above the garage. Rashad has a room upstairs. Bash and myself have rooms downstairs. We’re like a family, and it’s safer if we all stay together.”
You gapped at her for a moment “Jesus. How many rooms does this place have?”
“Ah,” she thought about it for a moment “10.” She nodded
“Holy, this place is huge.” You whispered.
“Yeah.” She laughed “and each bedroom has its own bathroom.”
You froze then burst out laughing “Does every room actually have a bathroom?”
She looked confused and you quickly added “I didn’t realize my room had one this morning, that is sort of why I ended up in the kitchen without pants on.”
“Oh,” she dragged out the word the. laughed “it all makes so much more sense now.”
Just then Liam came walking into the kitchen, phone to his ear. He paused in the doorway for a moment and smiled at you then wandered over to the coffee maker and started to prepare a cup. You and Mara both just remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt his call. He would reply here and there with the odd ‘Yup’ or ‘uh huh’. Clearly who ever he was talking to liked the sound of their own voice.
But then he spun around to look at you and covered the phones mic with his hand before pulling the phone away from his ear to whispered “What size dress to you wear?”
He furrowed your brows then replied with your dress size. Being super confused as to why he was asking. He took his hand away from the mic and returned the phone to his ear then said your dress size into it before he turned picked up his coffee and left the room. With no explanation as to why he just told some rando your dress size.
Brows still furrowed to turned to look at Mara “The fuck?” You asked but all she did was shrug and chuckle as she continued to sip her coffee. You shook your head then did the same, both of you falling into an oddly comfortable silence.
After you both finished you coffees Mara offered to show you around the place. Turns out it was way bigger then you had originally thought. It had a putting green on the roof, multiple living rooms and dining rooms, a huge laundry room, the two kitchens, a pool out back, a bowling alley down stairs as well as a games room, a movie theatre and a gym.
The only parts of the home you didn’t get to see were the other bedrooms, Liams office though she showed you where it was, and the suite about the garage where some woman named Regina lived.
“Mara,” you asked as you made your way back upstairs, she hummed for you to continue “Who is Regina?”
“She is Liams step mother. When Connie died and Liam took over, she moved into the suite so Liam could take over the house.”
“Really, he let her stay?” You asked quietly.
“Yeah, she may not have been Liams mom, but Connie loved her and she was always good to Liam. So he wanted her to stay here where she was safe and could live out her days comfortably. You’ll get a chance to meet her at some point.”
You nodded in response as you both neared the top of the stairs into the foyer. Once you were both in the foyer the front door opened and two woman walked in. One was older, grey hair, wearing a pretty plush and metallic dress. The other was younger, around your age, with white blonde hair, wearing a teal dress and a wicked resting bitch face. Which was currently directed at you.
“Oh Mara,” the younger one said in such a mock sweet voice, that even you could tell it was fake but then she quickly changed her tone to sneer “Who’s your little friend.” as she looked you up and down then smiled, but you could tell it was in disapproval.
You looked at Mara who just rolled her eyes, which almost made you burst out laughing “A guest of Liams.” She responded coolly. The younger woman huffed then crossed her arms. Just as you saw her opened her mouth to speak, the older woman beat her to it. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” she said as she walked towards you “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Regina, Liams step mother.” She said warmly, which was a polar opposite response then the other woman’s. She reached out her hand to shake yours. You smiled politely then shook her hand “It’s nice to meet you as well, Regina.”
“And this is Madeleine, my niece.” She said as she turned to gesture to the still clearly irritated younger woman.
Before you could say anything more you heard footsteps coming down the hall and you turned just as Liam came around the corner. He froze instantly and looked at you before his eyes flicked over to the other two woman standing behind you. “Oh Liam, darling. There you are,” you heard Madeleine purr as her footsteps came up behind you now “We just had the pleasure of meeting your friend.” she said and you could hear the disdain in her voice. The stab of her words ‘your friend’ like a knife in your back.
Liam sighed “What are you doing here Madeleine?” He asked irritatedly.
“I came to see you, we have to prepare for the fundraiser gala tomorrow night.” She said as she went to take his arm, but he pulled away to glare at her, making her freeze in place “What’s wrong, daring?”
Just then Mara quietly excused herself then headed back downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at her, as if begging her to take you with her, but she just smirked and shook her head then disappeared down the stairs. Traitor.
You pressed your lips into a thin line as you spun on your heel and said “On that note.” As you beelined for the stairs and up to your room. Wanting to get as far away from what ever the fuck that was, as fast as you could. You reached your room and shut the door softly behind you before moving the bags off your bed and flopping down on your stomach.
Who the fuck was that woman? And why the fuck did seeing her try to touch him piss you off so much? Hearing her talk to him like that? You groaned into the bed then rolled over to stare at the ceiling. Why the fuck am I even here? Then your mind drifted back to what Drake had said earlier. Were you just another potential notch? Did he have lots of woman in his life? Were you stupid to believe that he just wanted you, just you? He is the King of New York for crying out loud. There’s no way he’s be happy with just one woman. With just you. He probably had multiple girlfriends, ones that would most likely always be around. Fuck that. You weren’t down to be a damn sister-wife. You laughed bitterly. Why do I even fucking care so much? You shook your head then pulled out your phone, opening the text window with Hana. Quickly typing ‘Han’s, where are you right now?’
Your phone pinged ‘Just leaving my dads shop, you home?’
‘No, I’m gonna call yo— Just as you were typing out your message there was a knock on your door.
You froze for a second, contemplating if you should answer or not, then they knocked again more urgently. You quickly backspaced your text and typed ‘No, I’ll call you in a bit, kay?’ then hit send. You huffed and climbed off the bed, hearing the phone ping again as you reached the door. You opened it to see Liam standing on the other side, one hand rubbing the back of his neck the other by his side. “Can I come in?” He asked quietly as his blue eyes locked on yours.
Chapter 11 HERE.
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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years ago
Text
hopping into puddles [Ch. 5]
Pairing: Tsukishima Kei/Kuroo Tetsurou
Summary: Tsukishima Kei has bad luck when it comes to a lot of things, mainly when it comes to love. In fact, if it were up to him, he wouldn’t be looking in the first place. But because of a curse brought upon him by his idiotic ancestors, his only hope for a normal life is to find someone who accepts him and his…particularly abnormal nose. Not that it’ll ever happen…
Or at least, that’s what he’s accepted.
Then Kuroo Tetsurou shows up.
Rating: E (for this chapter only)
Warnings: None
Note: Alright so yes...this is a smut chapter ah ha...but for those of you who want to follow this story and aren't comfy w that stuff, the scene starts at "I need to run to the convenience store" and ends at "even so, minutes later, he was out like a light." I hope you all enjoy! 
ALSO if you are interested in participating in a kurotsuki fic exchange, please check out this post! 
AO3 Version
The room was small, but warm, the standard heater buzzing in the corner of the room loudly. It was cozy honestly, the perfect calming atmosphere, with the complimentary candle making the room smell like vanilla and spice after he'd lit it. The comforter of the large bed was a cheap floral pattern, but the material was plush and smelled like detergent, clean and soft. There was a television in the middle of the room too, and a mini bar, but he hadn't paid mind to either.
He hadn't paid mind to anything, but the rapid beating of his heart.
No, because as cozy and relaxing as the room was, Kuroo was a wreck. He fisted his hands in the fabric of the comforter, staring down at the freshly vacuumed carpet, and traced the patterns he saw. It was all he could do to distract himself from the sound of Kei in the bathroom as he toweled off, the blond's coat and sweater lying in a drenched heap by the bed along with Kuroo's...
"Do you not need the bathroom?" Kei's voice caused him to raise his head, and he swallowed, his throat too scratchy to respond right away. Kei was standing there, a black tank top being the only layer left after he'd shed his sweater, the tips of his hair dripping with rainwater. The blond had removed his scarf, thankfully, and Kuroo could see every nervous or uncomfortable scrunch of his nose, every nibble at his lips. He glowed, always did, with or without the artificial bathroom lights behind him, like the moon in the night sky. His jeans were obviously soaked, but he'd yet to shed them, the drenched material clinging to his very grope-able thighs and--stop it right there.
Kuroo cleared his throat, shaking his head as he brought his hands to sit on top of his legs. "Uh, no, I'm okay," he said, though his own hair and pants were damp. Like hell was he stripping in front of Kei, not yet anyways, not without talking first...
Boundaries Tetsurou, boundaries.
He tilted his head, beckoning the blond over, and chuckling at the way his boyfriend jumped, the flush blooming over his fair skin and down to his collar bones. Well, at least he wasn't the only one feeling this way.
Kei made his way over to the bed slowly, obviously shivering from his wet clothes, and Kuroo encircled his arms around the other like it was second nature. It probably was.
"Anyways," he said teasingly, managing to scoot Kei into his lap despite the scowl he received for it. The white towel around the blond's shoulders was damp, and he took it gently, beginning to rub down the length of his boyfriend's shoulders, watching the goosebumps form along his arms. "Kuroo you say? What happened to Tetsurou?"
"Shut up," Kei muttered, the malice of the words missing the usual bite. Kuroo was delighted in the shiver he got, and he abandoned the towel in favor of his exploration, pressing his fingers into the paths of the stretch marks along Kei's skin, evidence of what had no doubt been impressive growth spurts. Kei's breath hitched when Kuroo reached the back of his hands, locking their fingers together, more for himself than anything else. He was having a hard time keeping control, and part of him wondered why he felt the need to hold back at all. They both wanted it yes, and there was a small convenience store just downstairs...but maybe tonight was too soon, maybe Kei wasn't ready. The other was big on plans after all, spontaneous situations put him on edge, and Kuroo had to respect that. But he could ask, at the very least.
He paused his exploration, his thumbs pressing into the cold, soft skin of Kei’s sides. He had to do this right he thought, he didn’t want to pressure Kei into anything just because they were finally alone. The blond would understand, Kuroo knew he would. However, he never got the chance to ask his question.
“Tetsu,” the blond whispered, catching Kuroo completely off guard. Damn, he really did love it when Kei said his name. “I want…do you want to do it tonight? With me, I mean. Uh, obviously.”
The blond sounded unsure, his fingers clenched at his sides, and Kuroo knew it had taken a lot for Kei to speak up. He hated it, initiating conversations, asking for things outright, but he’d done it for their sake. He’d done it because doing this the right way was as important to him as it was to Kuroo. It made him melt practically, his affection surging in a way he didn’t know how to contain. He tightened his grip on Kei, grinning stupidly to himself.
Kei wanted to do it with him, tonight. They were going to be connected. Kuroo was going to get the chance to make Kei see stars. He was ecstatic, his want threatening to bubble over, but Kei stopped him, grounded him.
"Tetsurou?" Kei's voice was abnormally small, less sure, without the usual snark or impatience. Just...fearful, awaiting Kuroo's rejection as if that were the only possibility. Because that's what Kei believed right? Deep down, no matter how much trust they'd built or how comfortable he was around Kuroo, Kei thought his own appearance was hideous. Why would Kuroo want to sleep with a monster? That's probably what he was thinking, Kuroo could see it in those tortured honey brown eyes, how Kei was picking apart the silence, wondering if Kuroo was suddenly having second thoughts.
Kuroo thought of himself as a pretty easy going guy, seeing the positive side of things and trying to find alternative solutions to every problem. Living and interacting with people was his forte, embracing what the world threw at him was his way, and yet, he hated the world right then. All the men and people who shunned Kei, who took advantage of his hope and openness. Those who had the privilege of seeing him, and turned away. They're the ones who made him like this, thinking he was anything less than amazing.
Kuroo loved him. He did, with everything he had. The realization settled in him easily, since he already knew it deep down. How could he not, with how happy being around Kei made him. Though he knew it already it was still a shock which momentarily froze him, stalling his breath and rushing through his veins.
Holy shit, he loved Kei, and he wanted to scream it to the world, to all the people who had missed out. First though, he should probably tell Kei himself, but that was a whole different ballpark than what they were dealing with now. Yeah, one thing at a time.
He looked up at the boy in his lap, no doubt grinning like an absolute idiot, and watched as the doubt and terror slowly drained out of Kei's expression. Much better.
"I need to run to the convenience store."
--
The first thing he noticed about Kei's skin, was that it marked up easily. And no, not from Kuroo's intense urge to cover him in hickeys, evidence of their relationship (though he'd do that too). No, it was every hard press, any slight pressure on his smooth thighs. Kuroo squeezed the plump flesh, watching as his hands left soft red prints in their wake, and he marveled at the feeling of Kei in his hands, of being so fortunate to hold him.
"Shit...baby, your legs are incredible..." He breathed shakily, bending down to kiss and lick up the trail of faint stretch marks, to tease the skin right before the blond's entrance, thumbs massaging the skin in slow circles until his boyfriend's legs were spreading themselves more and more with a desperate sigh.
Kei was below him, naked and panting, his searching gaze following Kuroo's every movement, every observation. His face was flushed, eyes dark with want and shamelessness, like he'd do anything to get Kuroo to touch him more. He'd surely have to take advantage of that the next time they did this, but for now...
Kuroo's left hand left Kei's thigh, touching the top of his chest and running down until he was close to the head of his cock, smearing the precum lewdly on the blond's stomach. Kei's cock stood stiff and leaking on his abdomen, twitching in impatience as Kuroo's hands roamed over every inch of pale skin. He'd gotten pretty distracted, being still clad in only his unbuttoned jeans. It was impossible though, to not undress Kei completely, to not drink in the contours and lean muscle. Kei's legs or arms would twitch occasionally, like his body wanted to turn in on itself, to hide. But the blond was offering himself up, letting Kuroo see him, no matter how exposed it felt, and Kuroo wanted to kiss him over and over.
So he did.
He picked Kei up by the waist, allowing him to sit up, half in Kuroo's lap as their lips connected, slow, then lustful in the blink of an eye. The heat of Kei's mouth was all consuming, their tongues gliding and exploring sloppily, without care for the drool or obscene noises it created. Their noses bumped, and Kuroo laughed into his boyfriend's mouth, taking the moment to suck on his bottom lip. The whine he got out of it had his dick aching in his pants, his mind screaming at him to just pin the blond down and take him, fuck him in a way he'd never forget until he was incoherent. But that would come later he reasoned, he wanted to have his fun first, bring Kei right to the brink before giving them what they both wanted.
And it seemed the blond wanted to do the same to him anyways.
When he pulled back, he brought his finger up to trace the blond's reddened, swollen lips as the bottom one jutted out in a (seriously unfair) pout. Fuck, too good. Way too good. It was then that Kei placed his hands on the tops of Kuroo's shoulders, before he began to make his way down at an agonizing pace. His fingers slid over his collar bones and pecs, applying slight pressure at random places to see what reactions it would get him.
"Ah," Kuroo moaned when Kei rubbed at his nipples, a devious twinkle in his boyfriend's eye as he flicked and pinched at the sensitive buds. Kuroo's hips ground up against the cleft of the blond's ass, watching in delight as Kei's mouth opened in a silent moan, eyes fluttering closed from the pleasure the friction had offered. Kei ground back, an imitation of fucking himself right on Kuroo's cock; it was the most unabashed he'd seen him, movements hurried and craving for release. Kei's hands continued their journey all the while, dipping into the grooves of Kuroo's abs, scraping his nails against the tanned skin, and Kuroo couldn't take his eyes off him.
Each kiss and grind was an explosion of color behind his eyes, and it was almost overwhelming, not knowing where to touch or kiss next, because he wanted all of the blond. Kuroo growled as Kei's mouth landed on his skin, the frenzied but uncertain movements nearly too much for him to handle. But he braced his hands in a vice grip on the other's waist, letting Kei do as he pleased. Kei was kissing down Kuroo's neck with determination, tongue darting out to taste the salt, sucking his own love bites where he could, uncaring of who could see. Not that Kuroo much cared either, not with Kei in his lap like this, driving him mad.
Eventually the blond pulled away, his eyes glassy and lost as he wiped a trail of spit away from the corner of his mouth. Long, delicate fingers tugged at Kuroo's waistband, snapping it as they both whimpered from the strain of holding back. "Tetsu...can we..."
It was the light hiccup which accompanied the request--or maybe it was watching Kei bring a hand up to stroke himself, the slickness echoing into the room, which had Kuroo snapping.
"Fuck yes," he groans, throwing Kei back onto the bed. So much for being gentle, but this was partly Kei's fault anyways, giving him a face like that...being so damn alluring...
How much more desperation could Kuroo pull out of him?
Kei picked his head off of the pillow, about to complain no doubt, when Kuroo slid his hands under his smooth ass, hoisting him up in one quick, harsh motion.
Kei gasped, hands automatically going behind his bed to grip the headboard for balance, face a beautiful red from the exposed position. There he was, looking up at Kuroo's predatory gaze as the blond's ass was pushed up, basically in his boyfriend's face, his thighs quivering in the other's strong hold. "H-hey, what are you--"
"Can I eat you out?" Kuroo's gaze was piercing, he knew it, his voice scratchy as he licked his lips, and it seemed to send a lightning strike through Kei's body, his dick twitching from the stimulus alone. Kei was getting turned on by Kuroo wanting him, and god, it made him feel ravenous.
Kei blinked prettily, biting his abused bottom lip as he found his words. "Wha--yeah but...I don't know if I'll like it?"
Kuroo couldn't help it, honestly couldn't, when the smirk broke out on his face, feeling Kei's thighs quake in his grip as a response. "Want to see?"
The little nod he got in response was all he needed, and he licked a slow stripe over the tightened skin of Kei's entrance, and yeah, he thought Kei would definitely like this. The blond's body arched, his abdomen tightening as his eyes widened from the jolt of pleasure.
"W-wha--"
Kuroo repeated the same motion before he was pushing past the ring of muscle, letting Kei's noises spur on his enthusiasm, and he had a lot of it.
"O-oh...oh my--" Kei's moans quickly turned into pleas as Kuroo's tongue worked him open, slotting his tongue into the blond's heat until his jaw was sore, and even then he didn't stop, allowing Kei to keep pushing back on the pressure. The blond's hips wiggled insatiably, body trying to lift itself off the bed in an effort to have more, and Kuroo took it like a goddamn champ. "M-more! Shit...ha..."
Kei was leaking all over himself, and Kuroo's face was no doubt a mess of saliva, but it was worth it to see the blond come undone. Just a bit more...
Kuroo grabbed Kei's cock, giving a few deliberate pumps, and he got the desired reaction. Kei's feet arched, his toes curling as his body tensed up, his breathing ragged while his moans bounced off the walls of the hotel room. Other patrons be damned, Kuroo couldn't let those sounds go to waste. All the signs were there now, Kei was at the brink, and Kuroo seriously debated on pushing his boyfriend through an orgasm just to watch him come undone. Kei was young and healthy, no doubt, he could give Kuroo two or three...
But, he wasn't the only one making the decisions.
"W-wait, Tetsu stop I'm, I don't want--" It was like a snap back to reality, and it did the trick. Kuroo froze, taking his hands off his boyfriend and stopping all his ministrations, watching as the blond fell back onto the soft sheets, clawing at his own thighs as small bursts of pleasure continued to wrack him. It was mesmerizing, watching Kei's body come back from the edge of an orgasm, so sensitive...
But exploiting that fully could wait...probably. Ugh, seriously? Why is this so hard to resist? Kuroo shook his head, laughing at himself. Because it was Kei, that was the obvious answer. But it also gave him the power to calm down, a double edged sword. He wanted to make this the best experience he could for Kei, but more than anything, he wanted to do what Kei wanted. All the kinky shit, the multiple rounds and roughness his brain was imagining, they could do that later. This was their first time, and he could take it slow.
Kei's chest was heaving, and he looked perfect laid out on the sheets like that. A surge of affection overcame him, and Kuroo leaned over, kissing his boyfriend's forehead and making his way down over his cheeks, his closed eyelids...
The blond flinched when Kuroo reached his nose, kissing each individual ridge, and Kei's body quivered, probably not from excitement anymore. But Kuroo wanted to make this point, even in bed, no matter where they were or how many times he looked and touched, Kei was beautiful. Every part of him, even his nose, the thing he saw as a curse on his life.
Kuroo pulled away, chuckling awkwardly as Kei's eyes, still glazed over, stared up at him. "Uh...sorry, I got carried away." He gave his best sheepish grin, his pants still painfully tight from arousal, and he tried not to look down at Kei's body, covered in purple blotches and pre cum.
His boyfriend shook his head softly, the flush from earlier returning. "No, that was...wow," Kei sighed, slowly bringing himself up to his elbows and reaching forward to tug at Kuroo's pants. "But...I want this inside me before I come." 
Maybe it was the little smirk which accompanied the words, or maybe it was the thought of fingering Kei to the brink of another orgasm, but Kuroo had never taken off his pants faster. His cock was painfully hard, slapping against Kei's inner thigh as Kuroo fumbled for the lube. He knew his fantasies wouldn't compare to the real thing, of having Kei beneath him, being spread open, and he was eager to see, to feel Kei clench tightly around his fingers.
He was so consumed with his task that, when he finally did uncap the damn bottle and look back to his blond, he was almost sent to an early, blissful grave from the image. Kei was practically drooling from the sight of Kuroo's cock, giving his own a few quick strokes, breathing heavy and mixed in with whimpers which Kuroo was determined to commit to memory.
"Kei..." He barely managed to get the words out, his voice taking on a hoarse quality, and the blond's movements halted with a shaky breath, honey eyes blazing something furious as he flopped back onto the bed.
"In me, now."
Kuroo wasn't going to fight an order like that.
His first finger prodded at Kei's entrance, as if asking for permission, the lube dripping off it excessively. Kuroo watched the drops slip down Kei's skin, a shudder running through him. Focus. Kei nodded, wincing while the digit slowly sank into him.
Don't worry, I'll make it feel good soon...
"You alright?" Kuroo kept his gaze trained on his boyfriend, the blond too intoxicating for him to get enough of. Kei's hand was fisted in the sheets, but he didn't look pained per se.
"Mm, keep going," the blond whispered, his lips coming up in a small, sex drunk smile which had Kuroo tightening the reins on his own self-control. Kei would be the end of him, that much he knew. He pushed in another finger, making Kei's body squirm in mild discomfort, and Kuroo let him adjust for several moments, trying not to faint from how tight Kei was, even as the blond was trying to relax. It was hot, and Kei's walls clenched around Kuroo's fingers like it wasn't enough, and god Kuroo was going to collapse from the thought of how good his dick would feel inside his boyfriend. But, first things first...
Slowly, Kuroo began to scissor his fingers, stretching the blond out as much as he could, and with patience he admired given how gorgeous his boyfriend looked. His fingers squelched with every careful movement as he picked up the pace, and soon Kei's whimpers of discomfort were replaced by ones of pleasure, his heavy breathing filling the room.
The blond was subtly moving back on his fingers, willing them deeper, and Kuroo smirked, his predacious nature rearing its head as he dug his fingers in as deep as he could.
Alright, time to do what I promised.
He curled his fingers upwards, searching for the spot which would give him the desired reaction, and man, did it ever. As soon as he brushed it, Kei cried out, his body twisting deliciously in the sheets as he babbled for Kuroo to do it again, and of course he obliged.
Kuroo massaged his boyfriend's prostate as long as he could, never taking his eyes off Kei. The blond's pupils were blown wide, his mouth no longer filtering his screams and moans as his muscles worked in ways they never had before. Kuroo's dick was painful at this point, aching for attention, but he would prioritize Kei as long as possible. He'd always been a pleaser.
It was only when Kei began to clamp down on his fingers, his moans growing shorter and shorter as he approached orgasm, that Kuroo withdrew his fingers. He drank up the whine he got in return.
Quickly, Kuroo slipped on a condom and lubed himself up, and pressed the head of his cock against Kei's slick entrance. "Kei, can I--"
"Yes, hurry up," his boyfriend said, and it came out like he was pleading, and Kuroo's self-control finally flew out the window.
"Fuck yes," he breathed, pushing inside his boyfriend as carefully as he could manage, but the heat was dizzying, and the feeling of Kei sucking him in made him groan embarrassingly loud. He waited until his balls met the cleft of Kei's ass before speaking, his thoughts an indecipherable mess apart from how amazing Kei felt, and how much he adored the blond beneath him. "You're...you're so good baby, so good."
Kei moaned in response, and it was all it took. Kuroo pulled out until only the head of his cock remained inside Kei, before thrusting forward, the intensity of the feeling nearly making his vision blank out. Kei was pushing back against him, wanting more, and Kuroo gave it to him, thrusting in earnest until he'd built up a consistent pace.
Sometimes, because he couldn't resist teasing, he’d switch between long, slow thrusts which hit Kei in all the deepest spots, making the blond's back arch beautifully. It was like Kuroo was a conductor and the way Kei's body moved was a symphony, arching and rolling in all the perfect ways. Sometimes he'd do quick, shallow thrusts which had Kei glaring at him, his honey brown eyes glowing with ferocity which Kuroo couldn't help but satisfy.
He was beyond turned on, if it was actually possible, watching his dick slip in and out of Kei's stretched rim. At some point, he must've hit Kei's prostate, because the blond looked as if he forgot how to breathe, his eyes rolling back as his curses turned into a garbled mess, and Kuroo took to abusing the spot quite gleefully.
Kuroo was lost, and as embarrassing as it was, he knew he couldn't last long. Not with it feeling this right, and Kei looking like he did. Not to mention the damn sounds, bouncing off the room walls without care. Kei didn't seem like he could remember anything except curses and Kuroo's name, interrupted only by praises which did nothing but stroke Kuroo's ego and increase the pace of his thrusts.
"Fuck Kei...are you close?" Kuroo was teetering on the edge of pure bliss, but like hell would he come first. He wanted to watch Kei come undone, wanted to see his pretty face as he came right on Kuroo's dick.
Kei only nodded frantically, his hands gripping the headboard so tight his knuckles turned white, and Kuroo groaned, reaching forward to give Kei a few firm strokes. The blond's cock was flushed red, leaking obscenely, and with one last pump, the blond was coming. Thick white stripes painted his boyfriend's chest, splashing a bit high onto his collarbone.
"F-fuck...fuck!" Kei cried out, his body tensing up, and Kuroo was done. He came a moment later, pushing into Kei with thrusts strong enough to push the blond up further onto the bed, milking his orgasm for what it was worth until they were both shuddering from over stimulation.
Kuroo slumped down onto the bed beside him, sweaty and fucked out as all hell, his bones like jelly as his mind struggled to catch up. Eventually, he did manage to drag himself out of bed and toss the condom, bringing two towels from the bathroom to wipe them both down.
It was then he noticed Kei covering his nose with his arm, and Kuroo reached forward, leading it away so he could kiss Kei's nose, and then his mouth. Kei hummed in a sleepy, but obviously pleased way, and Kuroo felt his heart would burst right then and there.
How had he actually gotten this lucky? The fact Kei didn’t see it that way still bothered him to no end, but it was an issue he hoped would improve with time. And hey, even if it didn’t, Kuroo would continue showering Kei in all the adoration he deserved until the end of the world.
"You alright?" he whispered, stroking the blond’s face, and Kei smiled, eyelids drooping more and more by the second.
"Perfect."
Kuroo wondered if Kei would admit to being this honest in the morning, but either way, it would be good teasing material in the future. For now, Kuroo drank up the praise, letting his heart swell. They still needed to shower, Kuroo thought, but as out of it as he was, he reasoned that they could take a little breather.
Even so, minutes later, he was out like a light.
--
When Kuroo had walked Kei home the next day, it felt like something had settled inside him, some anxiety he wasn’t aware of. It was as if slowly, Kuroo was knocking down every single wall Kei had built, not just for others, but for himself too.
Kei could deny his happiness all he wanted to the world, but deep down he knew how much it was consuming him. He smiled more, excitedly checked his phone, and felt overall content, which he'd initially found suspicious as hell. But, after being with Kuroo for a while, he came to realize it was probably that stupid thing called love, and dropped it. It wasn't worth the expense of energy to hate something he had no control over, especially when it made him feel this calm and accepted.
Sometimes with Kuroo, it was as if he forgot about the curse altogether. On more than a few occasions, he almost forgot to tie on his scarf when he left the house. Months before, he never would've dreamed of forgetting the thing, but now, he almost didn't care. Kuroo acted the same to him with or without it, looked him in the eyes with adoration and treated Kei well, told him he loved him an annoying amount of times, and wasn't put off by Kei's natural snarkiness. When they had sex, which they did frequently now, Kei felt truly desired, and he wanted Kuroo too. That kind of mutual affection...it was strange and...pleasing all at once. It was too good to be true really, but Kei didn't believe in dreams this vivid.
And since Kuroo was a giant dork, he proposed the idea of celebrating a six month anniversary, which Kei thought was complete crap.
"Why don't we just wait for a year?" He had asked, not wanting to voice his fear that even now, after all this time, Kuroo may not be around that long. He quickly shook it away though, with Kuroo's dumbass response.
"Maybe it's just another excuse to spend time with you," his boyfriend said with a wink, leaning against the door to Kei's room.
"You...you see me almost every other day now," Kei supplied. Kuroo would often spend the night too, though with no inappropriate activities. At least, not loud ones.
Kuroo pouted, the drama and false hurt so practiced it made Kei squint. "Keiiiii, you're supposed to say something cute back to me."
Kei opened the door, and Kuroo fell. 
Now of course, Kei actually found him indulging Kuroo's whims, and was taking a taxi into town to meet with Yamaguchi, to shop for a present for his boyfriend. Honestly, he had to get better at not falling into Kuroo's plans. Even as he thought this, he couldn't help but smile.
As if summoned, his phone buzzed in his lap, Kuroo's ID, accompanied by a picture of the two of them at a street fair taken by his boyfriend (who had also made it Kei's wallpaper, the bastard), flashing on the screen. Kei answered it after two rings, cursing himself for the rush he got just from seeing Kuroo's name. He pulled up his scarf, fitting his phone underneath it awkwardly.
"Yes?" He glanced out the window as he spoke, watching as shops whizzed by. He was almost to the center of the shopping district...
He hoped Kuroo wouldn't pry about where he was, Kei had been lucky enough to get out of the house while Kuroo was working, he didn't need the surprise ruined completely.
"Hello moonshine, light of my life, star of--"
"What do you want?" Kei choked against his will on the last syllable, and he glared at the cheap upholstery of the seat in front of him. Kuroo chuckled on the other side of the call, and damn, he'd heard it. The other took pride in getting Kei flustered, and Kei mentally reminded himself to seek revenge later.
"I only wanted to check in, I'm on my break. What are you up to?" In the background, Kei could hear the glasses of a bar clinking together, a tell tale sign Kuroo was sitting at the stools, waiting to start his next stage performance. Kei had heard Kuroo sing before, and he could say with no bias, he had a beautiful voice.
Kei smiled into the receiver, humming softly. "I'm going to meet Yamaguchi for lunch, I can meet you at your apartment after....if you want," he added the last bit, voice small and barely there.
"Of course I do," Kuroo said, giving one of those sighs he tended to do around Kei, much to the blond's confusion. It was like something out of the movies, dreamy and content. "Just let me know when you're on the way. I gotta get back to work now babe."
Kei was about to respond, when the words 'I love you' got caught in his throat. What? No way, he thought, no way he could say it. Not that he didn't feel it, as much as it made him feel strange to admit, he couldn't fight it. It felt so natural, and he itched to say the words, to put it out into the world, and go against his closed off nature. He knew it was true, even with how vulnerable it made him, but he'd never said it aloud before. Neither had Kuroo, they had taken their time with it. Sure, Kuroo showed his love in other ways, or at least, Kei hoped the feeling was returned. Was now really the best time to admit it? Surely Kuroo already knew, but was doing it over a phone call for the first time too sloppy?
"U-uh," he muttered unintelligibly, something out of character which Kuroo would surely pick up on....But no, Kei could do this. Kei could say it without prodding, because it was true. What happened to all his brutal honesty and bluntness huh? What a joke. He swallowed, the saliva thick in his throat, and took a deep breath. "Tetsu...I--"
And then the car jolted, veering off to the side of the road in a flash, glass shattering around him. He heard a crash when the car hit something on the curb, the airbags deploying in slow motion.
"Kei! Kei what's--" He heard Kuroo's voice as he saw his phone fall from his hand, saw the shards of windshield fall into the front seat, along with the slumped over driver. There was a screech of traffic behind him, and flashing lights, before he knocked out, his head banging against the roof of the car.
The rest came in faded moments of awareness where he dipped in and out of consciousness. He could hear police sirens, could feel the door of the car being opened, arms around him as he was pulled out...
His scarf being removed as he was boarded on the ambulance. He didn't stay awake long enough to hear the gasps and shrieks of surprise of the medics, and they didn't matter anyways. No matter how hard he tried to speak, to ask for his phone, no words would come out, his mind already slipping into the realm of sleep.
No...Tetsurou...I have to let him know I'm okay...
But he didn't get the chance, and the world faded to black with the sound of the ambulance rolling away.
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avaelf-blog · 7 years ago
Text
14
I was 14 and I was partying with my friend shawna all the time. Drinking. Smoking. Cigs and weed. Constantly high and drunk. Only way I could cope for years with my depression. Honestly, I didn't stop drinking until I got pregnant with freyja. I use to hang out with shawna and go over to this house, I don't remember the guy's name, but it was the party house. I wasn't really interested in the guys there. Of course I was more in the females. Then shawna started dating a guy named dean and his cousin Jason coming around.
Jason was perfect. Black hair, green eyes, black rimmed glasses. Smart. You could ask anything. He knew the answer.  Or find it out. He worked on cars. Which was perfect cause I love working on cars. He was a geek. He gamed. Totally my type. He had a full time job. It didn't really matter that he older because my parents didn't really pay attention anyhow, so I raised myself, I raised my brother and my cousin. I went to high school, college and had a full time job so I was older for my age.
It was like as soon as I saw him I stopped having sex with chicks and started going after him. Which is weird for me. He was sweet at first. Until you did something he didnt you to do, and wasn't dating. Like if you walked away from him. He would get mad. I hang around with him for about a week.
I will never forget this night. Every detail. Its burned in brain. It was a saturday. I left my house at about 5pm. It was a november night so it was cold. I wore a black hoodie, a t-shirt under the hoodie. Jeans. Mens boxer briefs. (I love them, they are comfy). Chucks for shoes. I always loved chucks. I still wear chucks. I wore my hair down because it was so cold. My cousin was going to a different party and begged me to go and I would have went and should have because always went with her to party to watch her but fucking jason. He picked me at down the road at Shawna's. And we went. Nothing about my outfit was sluty.
When we got there it was still raining. And everyone rushed inside and the music loud. Heavy metal. Some random guy practicing their little boy band. We drank and we smoked. Shawna and Dean went and probably had sex alot cause they gone all night. It got dark and Jason and I was just making out. Just kissing. That's all I wanted to do. Believe it or not. I was a virgin with guys when i was 14. I haven't actually went all the way. And I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to try and work with Jason. Not be easy. Apparently when you have a rep with mine with ladies everyone hears it. You are a slut. Well, on the back porch of the  house in the shadow, where I just wanted to kiss. Pass midnight? Had to be. I was drunk. I was high. Kissing him. And he started trying to pull off my clothes and I told him “No, just kiss me” and he was said “Why, if I can kiss you all over?” So I said “Just on the mouth just on the mouth just there” and he was still pulling off my clothes and I start pull them back into place and say “no” more clearly or as clearly as you can drunk and he said “I heard about you. why not me? You need a man.” And I push and I try to scream and I try say no but the music is loud and he grabbed my wrist with one hand held them above my head against the panels of the wall and lifted my hoodie and shirt and bra above my head and unbuttoned my pants and he was strong. I don't know how long it lasted. I know it was cold. I could see my breath shout and i kept telling myself "dont scream that's what he wants" but you can't help but scream. And no one hear you no matter how many times you scream no. And when it finally ended. He whispered. He whispered in my ear. "I fixed you" not I am sorry. I fixed you. And he dropped me like I was a doll into the mud and walked away.
I didn't know what to do. I had mud on my knees. Blood running down my legs. I was exposed to the cold. I just lost my virginity. I was drunk. I was high. Apparently, I am broken and I was just fucking fixed. I didn't know what to do. I had crying. Tears just kept coming. I don't know what it was. It was my voice in my head, but it was like a voice of logic, "first, stand" "now cover up, pull down bra, shirt hoodie. Pull up underwear, pants, button" so I followed it. What was I supposed to do? Follow him? The guy who "fixed" me. I kept crying and crying. I walked away. Down road. I called my "friends" for a ride, all busy doing something. I looked my phone and it was 2am. So sunday. I walked home. It long walk. In the rain. In the cold. It was painful. And limped all the way. I took a long shower. And laid in bed for days. Not that my parents noticed. Jason didn't break me. I was broken before him. He added to it. He didn’t fix me either. I got out of bed because my cousin told me that I needed to go to a party for her. (I got kicked out of my house that night and that's a different story) I figured out I was pregnant 2 weeks later and I got an abortion because I could not stop thinking about that night every time I thought of that child. This is one of the reason’s I hate myself.
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