#ANYWAYS F U VINCENT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greenorangevioletgrass · 3 years

Text

crash course (t.h.)

masterlist | ko-fi?

pairing: tom holland x bi!musician!reader

summary: fresh out of a breakup, tom moves in with his childhood best friend. she teaches him a thing or two about moving on.

word count: 6.8k (phew)

warnings: best friends to lovers, flatmates au, sexual tension, reader is a fuckgirl/chaotic bi, tom is an idiot, language, drinking, weed, fluff, minor angst, smut!, fingering, oral (m/f), protected sex, dirty talk, bro talk lol

song inspo: hozier - moment's silence / john mayer - in your atmosphere / harry styles - woman / lianne la havas - courage / billie eilish - when the party's over

notes: soooo it was based on this ask but it turned into... a monster lmao. i absolutely love y/n here; she's like a combination of harry styles, st. vincent, hozier, and john mayer and i hope you enjoy it!

***

After a rigorous nine-month long shoot and a tough breakup after a two-year relationship, Tom feels like he’s due for a fresh start. He’s had enough of wallowing in his parents’ house, taking Tessa on long quiet walks at the park, and taking the piss out of his brothers at home. No more of that. He needs to be somewhere different. New.

Hence why he’s taken his car and his stuff to this newish apartment complex in Battersea. (And yes, he’s aware that it’s only a half-hour ride from his family home. But it’s more of a… mental distance more than anything else.)

And there she is, like the most constant thing in his life, standing at the curb in her old grey hoodie and ratty sneakers, with a smile she’s always sported for as long as he’s known her. For a moment, he doesn’t feel all that nervous about this impulsive move.

“Tommy Shelby!” Y/N exclaims as he gets out of the car.

“Not my name,” he deadpans, but hugs her anyway.

She pats him squarely on the back and gives him a brief kiss on the cheek. “I know it’s not. How are you, man?”

“Honestly? Meh.” he pulls away, grimacing. “But I’ll live. Come on, help me get my stuff up.”

She follows him to the boot of his car, surprised and confused by what’s in it. Two suitcases, a duffel bag, and two boxes. All this for a whole-ass international movie star in a multibillion dollar franchise.

“This it? What are you, a student?”

“Are you kidding? I got my golf clubs, too. Do you think I was raised in a barn?” Tom shoots her a funny look as he takes out the suitcases and slings the duffel bag across his shoulder. “You take these, I’ll get the boxes.”

That’s how their relationship has always been. They met back in BRIT School, right around the age where girls and boys can’t be seen together without the rest of the class thinking they’re together, so they established a very 'bro-y' friendship. Funny quips and borderline mean insults to veil just how much they care about each other. First as friends, and then--

Life takes them into different directions. Tom's movies take him all around the world, and Y/N is busy making her own name in the music industry, as a singer/songwriter and producer. Their daily exchanges turn into semi-regular catch-ups and occasional run-ins at events. So, when they bumped into each other at a Tesco three weeks ago and Tom moaned about living at home, it was a no-brainer for Y/N to offer her spare bedroom for him.

Nevermind the fact that her childhood crush is resurfacing and she needs to find a way to get over it.

“You sure you can still see what’s in front of you? What with this… tall stack you’re carrying?” she grins, knocking the top of the box playfully, leading him out of the elevator.

He scoffs at her dramatically, following her into the hallway. “Shut up, I’mma kick you in the shin.”

“Alright, little soldier boy. Here it is!” she welcomes him into the flat, throwing her key into the bowl on the console table.

He drops the boxes next to where Y/N leaves his luggage, by the door. The light blue sofa faces the TV, flanked by a mint green armchair and a red round ottoman. Her digital piano sits on one corner, her guitars adorning the wall, while the other side opens up to a kitchen/dining area with a balcony. The shelves are sparsely filled with books and picture frames and awards, and Tom feels less like he’s intruding on someone else’s living space.

"Mi casa es su casa. Literally,” Y/N says with an easy smile.

He stands in the middle of the bedroom-- his new bedroom. The sun streams in from a floor-to-ceiling window, and he’s thankful for the view of the nearby park. The double bed is flanked by built-in wardrobes and a desk, with two rows of bookshelves over it. The room is sparsely decorated, save for a few tasteful black-and-white photos of tulips and calla lilies on the wall. She leaves him alone to unpack, saying something about a welcoming party as she walks out.

The welcoming ‘party,’ as it turns out, is attended by them and them alone, sitting on the living room couch with pizza, beer, and a joint. It’s a remnant of simpler times, of all-night movie marathons and video games. And a stark reminder of growing up, given how comfortably drunk and high they are.

It’s one hell of a nice evening.

"You seem a lot more comfortable under the influence than I remember." she observes him take a puff, struggling to stop staring at his delicate lips over the haze.

"I've gotten a lot more accustomed to it over the years," he brings it back up to his lips one more time. "'m not that kid who freaked out about one puff for a whole hour anymore.”

“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs, her head laid on the seat of the couch, near his broad shoulder. “You were a bigger pain in the ass high than you were sober back then. How is that even possible?”

And with that, he laughs wryly. “I think I’m an even bigger pain now, moping about for a whole month after my girlfriend dumped me-- thanks for taking me in, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” she brushes him off. “I’m pretty happy to have you… slummin’ it here with me.”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘slumming’, really.” he looks around at the sleek light fixtures, fancy TV, feeling the soft, fluffy fabric of the sofa underneath his hand… stopping just an inch from her back. "You seem to be doing alright for yourself."

"Well…" she shrugs somewhat sheepishly. Truth be told, she has been doing pretty well. A sleeper hit album, a successful tour across Europe...

"Aren't you?" he looks deep into her eyes. For a moment, the humor fades out; there's just soft, genuine concern in his features. She can feel his arm around her shoulders, solid and reassuring.

And God, it melts her like hot knife on fucking butter.

"It's just…" she takes the joint from him and takes a deep drag. "It can get a bit lonely sometimes. I mean, I'm sure you know how it feels."

"Oh, yeah. All too well."

"Mm. One minute, you're in a hall so crowded, you can barely hear yourself think. And then you come back to your hotel room or your flat and then it's just… dead silence. It's nice to have some company." she smiles softly.

"Well, say no more. You got company right here.” he rests his head on her shoulder, all snug and comfy.

She leans back into him and sighs, the animal documentary playing on TV feels fuzzy and distant. The weed grows faint, the beer tepid. And the company… she just hopes the company doesn’t drift away as quickly.

***

They fall into an easy routine in no time. Tom wakes up early, goes on a morning run or a round of golf, and whips up some breakfast-- sometimes a fancy French toast, and other times just… jam on toast. Y/N usually rolls out of bed from the sweet smell, and Tom is always more than happy to make enough for both of them.

"Ugh, can you just be my malewife forever, please?" she mutters one morning, half-asleep as she takes a bite of Tom's homemade raspberry waffles. "You can quit acting and just… do this."

He hums into his tea. "I don't think you can afford me as a trophy husband."

She pauses, as if making budget calculations in her head. "Yeah, you're right. I can never compete with that Marvel money."

"Sorry, love.” Tom smiles, looking not sorry at all.

"Shame. Would’ve loved to see you rockin’ aprons and… hoovering around the house all day.” she hums into her coffee this time.

During the day, they would do their own thing. Y/N would write music on her piano, mix tracks in her little workspace in her room, or occasionally go out to a proper recording studio to work. And Tom would… he would do whatever new hobby he decided to pick up. Meditate, journal, read a book (as much as his attention span allows him anyway), paint, watch a movie, puzzle, woodwork...

Y/N comes home one afternoon to Tom sitting on their balcony floor, the sound of sandpaper against wood filling the air. The back of his plain white t-shirt is stained with sweat, and she wonders how long he’s been at this.

"Honey, I’m home! Make me a sandwich!” she hollers into the flat in a saccharine sweet voice.

Tom didn’t even look up; he just replies knowingly, “Kindly fuck a duck.”

She leans against the glass door, curiously eyeing the planks of wood of various sizes spread all around him. (That's a lie, she's completely eyeing the ripples of Tom's back muscles doing manual labor.)

Of course, he’s much too focused to provide any further explanations, so she prods on, "Whatcha up to, you sexy lumberjack?"

“Making a little shelf for your...” he gestures at the array of pots and terrariums on the other corner of the balcony, “...green babies.”

“Aww, cool! Thanks, man. Just don’t forget to clean up all the grit, yeah?”

“You got it, boss lady.”

It must be a strange sight to see him transform into a basic bitch, he’s sure of it, but he’s grateful that she doesn’t say anything. Truth be told, she seems to be unfazed in whatever weird shit he does in the slightest.

That's not to say that she isn't supportive-- she is, just not through coddling words of encouragement. What she does do is treat him as normal as one would, as if he’s always done this-- and occasionally join him. Casually helps out with his puzzles when she’s taking a break from her work. Buys new essential oils for the diffuser and meditates with him. Park herself next to him on the couch with some beer or crisps and watch (or heckle) the movie, especially if it’s something obscure and artsy. And truth be told, it is refreshing as fuck.

“So…” Y/N speaks up, not even three minutes into Paterson. “Is this movie basically just… Adam Driver living up to his name?”

“Huh?”

“Because he’s-- you know... a driver.” she motions at the screen, which shows his character driving a bus, fighting back a dumb grin.

Tom groaned. “Are you for real?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. The guy’s…” she tilts her head to the side as she studies the man on the screen. “...strangely hot. He looks like he’s into some freaky shit.”

“I don’t need to know that,” he shudders.

“You’re just jealous that I’m thinking of boning--”

“Shh! Shut up, you’re making me miss what they’re saying!” he puts his whole palm over her laughing face, shoving her away while she snuggles closer into him.

And in the evenings, they would have dinner. Tom cooks mostly; he has the time now, and it gives him a chance to experiment on new recipes. It doesn't always work (like that one time when his chicken noodle soup tastes like seawater), but when that happens, they're always happy to get takeouts and a few beers.

And occasionally, Y/N would drag him to the pub or whatever venue she's playing in. Just to get some fresh air. Interact with the outside world.

Maybe meet someone.

He tries to convince her it’s not necessary. He’s more than happy to sit back, nurse his pint, and enjoy her set. The melody she sings is soulful, but the guitar riffs she plays matches the heart beyond what words can convey. And her band follows her lead; the steady rhythmic guitar, the thumping bass, the banging drums-- a gritty, bluesy sound against the absolutely ethereal backing vocals. It’s a bit hard to believe that she’s singing a song about oral sex, so riddled with religious allegories, but the way she plays it… he can’t imagine it being anything else.

“Like a heathen clung to its homily, let the reason come on the common tongue of your loving me. So summon on the pearl rosary. Let the reason come on the common tongue of your loving me…”

It comes to no surprise at all that she has all kinds of girls and boys chatting her up after her set. And she’s so fucking good at that, too.

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” Y/N beams at this petite blonde who came up to her at the bar. “I’m absolutely hopeless at all that. But my friend Tom here... hey, Tom!”

Tom turns toward the girls with a friendly wave.

“Tom does absolutely everything-- gymnastics, aerial, martial arts… you name it,” Y/N smoothly segues the conversation into a three-way. “Tom, this is Bailey. Bailey, Tom.”

“It’s not as impressive as it sounds. I’m not an Olympian or anything,” Tom bashfully smiles as he shakes her hand.

“I somehow don’t believe that,” she quirks an eyebrow playfully, like she recognized him but doesn’t wanna make it weird. “I think you’re being very modest.”

He laughs, catching how Bailey sizes him up. And he sizes her back up, too. Her greenish eyes and her little black dress and her pastel nail art… and in the background, Y/N subtly raising her glass and nodding in approval, slowly pulling back from the conversation so they could get to know each other better.

She might just be the most perfect flatmate he's ever had.

Well.

Almost perfect.

***

The first time it happened, he thought it was an honest mistake. She hasn't had any flatmates since she moved into this place, so she probably didn't know just how well sound travels through these apparently thin walls. She just carries on having loud sex with the girl she brought home that night.

And he's not even annoyed by her. If anything, he’s impressed because it sounds like Y/N is rocking the absolute socks off this girl. He could hear her whimpers rising up and winding down, over and over again. Over his friend’s warm laughters that turned into velvety moans. Coming together in an erratic duet of euphoric cries of release. Tom would be lying if he wasn't the slightest bit turned on.

"Oh, my God, Y/N, please give it to me, I can’t take it anymore!"

The girl in question said something indiscernible through the walls, followed by a sharp SMACK!

And Tom simply teases Y/N in the morning with a knowing smirk. “Hot date?”

Y/N, as freakishly rowdy and obscene she is in bed, didn’t kiss and tell.

The second time it happened, Tom began to suspect that’s simply how she fucks. His electric drill was whirring into planks of wood as he installed new shelves, but even that couldn't drown out Y/N's signature airy moans and the deep growls of her partner-- some guy she’d met in Amsterdam last year. At first he thought they were taking advantage of the mechanical noise. But he stopped, and he swore they started fucking even louder.

And he gets it. There's something inherently alluring about her. It's not just her music. Even in a crop top and jeans, she oozes sex appeal. The spotlight hits her smooth skin, beads of sweat rolling down her neck like crystals. Fingers expertly working the strings, glossy lips hovering over her mic almost like she’s making out with it… one can't help but imagine how good she is with her hands and mouth.

Tom would take this to the grave, but he totally retreated into the shower and jerked off to the fantasy of her mouth on his cock, like the song she sings about. He wonders if she could elicit those sounds from him, too.

He aimed his orgasm at the wall and just stood there under the shower, letting the droplets ricochet on his back with the ultimate realization.

This is fucked up, Tom. You’re in a weird funk and jacking off to your flatmate fucking some random guy in the other room. You need to get laid.

The next time they went out, less than a week later, he’s determined not to end up alone at the end of the night. Halfway through his third pint, a girl sat next to him and discreetly leaned his way.

“Don’t freak out, but… people are staring at you. And don’t worry, I checked; you don’t have toilet paper stuck on your trousers.”

“Thanks for looking out for me,” he chuckled, partly in relief, looking up at the girl in question.

“I'm Brooke, by the way." she offered her hand.

She's pretty cute, with wavy blonde hair down to her shoulders and dark brown eyes that seem kind. She didn't seem to recognize him either --or if she did, she wasn't very affected by it. And for that, he's willing to see how this goes.

"I'm Tom." he shook on it. "Can I buy you a drink, Brooke?"

“That’d be… really nice.”

She turned out to be nice, too. A nurse who works long shifts and has no time to catch up to the hype of the MCU, for which Tom is insanely grateful-- it's much easier to flirt when the other person didn't have any preconceived notions about him. Loves Richard Curtis movies and comedy panel shows. Has the sense of humor to show for it, too.

Somewhere along the way, he caught Y/N’s gaze from across the room as she performed her solo acoustic set. He subtly tilted his head towards Brooke, who had her back turned towards the bar, flashing a hopeful smile towards his friend.

“I’m gonna steer clear, or burn up in your atmosphere. I’m gonna steer clear, ‘cause I’d die if I saw you, I’d die if I didn’t see you...” she crooned, soft and wistful, in lieu of her usual witty smirk.

They locked eyes for a split second, he felt like she was singing straight to him. The pub suddenly cleared out, the distance closed between them, and she might as well be a breath away from him. And he didn’t know what to make of it. What the hell was she trying to say? That she wanted him but she couldn’t?

The moment was gone as quickly as it started, and Y/N looked out to the audience. It’s incredibly subtle, but Tom could see her switch back into performing mode.

“Think I’m gonna stay, gonna stay in the gray.” she looked out into the distance. “All the streetlights say never mind, never mind. And the canyon lights say never mind. Sunset says we see this all the time. Never mind, never you mind.”

The crowd’s cheers and applause were like a fresh slap in Tom’s face, awaking him from his thoughts. He’s imagining things, he’s sure of it. Y/N has been nothing but a good friend through this ordeal and he’s reading too much into the smallest things she does. That’s not fair. Brooke was right there with him and she deserved his undivided attention. So he turned to her and said,

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

They were enjoying themselves. She was pretty vanilla, all tender kisses and quiet sighs, which Tom didn’t mind at all. He kind of liked it that way. No fancy stuff, no adventurous kinks that pose a lot of risks, no pretense that this is anything more than it looks like… it was just that.

Nice.

Well.

Up until they were done, but the couple in the next room… wasn't. It was a uniquely awkward thing to lie there with ragged breaths and inadvertently listen to more intense, ragged breaths through the wall. And frankly, it made Tom second guess just how much Brooke really enjoyed herself.

He sighed, annoyed. "I'm really sorry. My flatmate is... I swear to God--"

"It's okay," she waved him off, sitting up from Tom’s arm. "I think I should go, though."

"Oh." his eyes followed her around the room, gathering her discarded clothes. Putting her shoes back on. Shuffling around to find her purse.

Tom kissed her goodnight at the front door, and then simply threw himself back into bed, deflated. Blindly reaching for his AirPods to keep out all the commotion --he’s been telling himself he’s not annoyed, but maybe now he is.

Just a little.

Partly at his roommate, for ruining a perfectly nice evening with a perfectly nice girl. And maybe, just maybe, at himself for briefly thinking Y/N was giving him time of day like that.

And he is fully planning to set things straight first thing in the morning.

***

Y/N wakes up cranky.

She’s had one too many drinks after her little solo set-- partly from the rush of testing out new unreleased songs, partly from annoyance that Tom bailed on her mid-performance. But mostly from that split second she may have revealed too much to Tom.

Oh, the scene plays out so clearly even amidst her persistent hangover. The harsh jet of water from the shower does nothing to obscure the memory of his dumb smile, fading away as he caught her in a moment of brutal honesty. I’d die if I saw you, I’d die if I didn’t see you. He saw it, and dipped. With that pretty blonde, no less.

She shuffles into the kitchen, hoping to get her coffee without bumping into him. But, of course, Tom's already beat her to it and hands over a fresh brew in her favorite 'let’s keep the dumbfuckery to a minimum' cup.

"You are godsend. I love you so much," she murmurs, her voice low and raspy in the morning.

"You talkin' to me or the coffee?"

"The coffee," she answers immediately, still managing to maintain the facade. "But you're alright too."

"Gee, thanks."

She sips her coffee in silence. "How'd it go with, um… the blonde girl last night?"

He stretches his arm, muscles flexing right before her eyes. "Brooke? It was good. Didn't stay the night, though. Figured it was a bit too loud too--"

Before Tom could finish giving her shade, he stops at the sound of approaching footsteps from her room. Y/N turns, finding a girl walking this way. Her yellow dress and warm smile are bright against her stunning dark skin. She remembers how wonderful she was last night --sweet and eager and right in more ways than one. But now her presence just feels… out of place.

"I had a great time last night." she leans down to give Y/N a long, hard kiss, and Tom makes it a point to mind his own fucking business and not make any eye contact, busying himself with his tea.

Y/N pulls away, gently tucks a few strands of the girl’s box braids behind her ear. "Alright, darling. I'll see you around?"

"See you." she steps back with a wave, but then stops in her tracks when her eyes catch Tom’s.

Oh, no. Tom knows that look. She clocked him. And the last thing he wants is to get recognized in his own home by his flatmate's hookup at 8 in the fucking morning.

"Hey, aren't you--"

"Tom Holland? Yeah, he gets that a lot," Y/N smoothly intercepts. "This is Nick Miller...ton. My friend Nick Millerton. Nicky, this is Lana."

"What’s the craic, darling?" Tom greets her in an Irish accent, taking a whole two seconds to realize how dumb he must have sounded, and how much it's killing Y/N to stay cool.

"Sorry, I thought…" she responds from her spot, somewhat embarrassed by her 'mistake.' "Anyway. Bye, guys."

They smile and wave until the door shuts behind her. Click, and then their heads whip toward each other.

"Nick Millerton? You've been watching too much New Girl," he scoffs at her.

"Oh, and giving yourself an Irish accent is a good idea?" she retorts. "You sound like a walking stereotype!"

"Well, jokes on you because I've been sitting down this whole time!"

Y/N burst out laughing, and just like that, the tension between them has died down. It’s that easy.

And as quickly as it crashes in, as quickly it fades away, and soon enough, they’re left with a heavy silence.

Tom puts his mug down, trying to play it off casually. "So... I suppose things went well with Lana?"

She mutters behind her coffee cup, "You can say that."

"Oh, come on! We both know that's an understatement." Tom cries impatiently, then pauses thoughtfully. "How do you even make 'em sound like that?"

"It's really just about… paying attention. Figure out what works, and work it. You're an actor, you get it." You’ve played pretend and pleased an audience, she thinks.

"I mean, I like to think I'm alright, but those girls… shit. What are you, a pussy whisperer or something?"

She chuckles, absentmindedly opening her Twitter. "I can teach you if you want."

And just like that, a hush falls over the room. Tom just stares at her. Trying to process what she really just offered him. He's not even sure what she offered. And somehow, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is,

"I… didn't even know you liked me like that."

And Y/N softens. Quiets down. And there he caught her again. One of those moments of brutal honesty. And Y/N figures if she plays it cool and nonchalant, he would drop it.

"You walk around the house half-naked, sweaty, looking like that, painting and woodworking and shit… 'course I'm attracted to you.” she shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

But Tom knows her too well. He sees right through her and presses on. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were getting over a relationship! I didn’t wanna make things more complicated for you.”

“So you just… keep bringing all these random people to shag?”

“I gotta channel all that energy somewhere, right?”

There’s no denying, no charming her way into an excuse anymore. Not only has she been pining over her long-time best friend, she also has a batshit way of coping with it. She can see the gears turning in his head, and once it clicks, it’s over for her.

No more company. No more friend, probably.

Tom slowly leans back into his chair, choosing his words carefully as he speaks his mind, "I've... always been into you, too. Like, since school, if you can believe it.”

“What?”

“Why’d you think I freaked out so much when I got high the first time? I was worried I might… slip and say that I’m head over balls in love with you,” he admits, his eyes stubbornly glued to his clasped hands.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she echoes his exact question not even five minutes ago.

He shakes his head, staring far out the window. “I don’t know. We’re friends… I just thought-- I don’t wanna make things complicated between us.”

It’s fucking hilarious to hear it back, and Y/N can’t help but laugh. Her whole face lights up and there’s no way Tom could go another second without being infected by her mirth. Their eyes meet again --voluntarily honest, for the first time. The warmth of their friendship somewhat cloaks them, but not quite. There’s an air of… newness over them.

“Oh God…” Y/N rubs the bridge of her nose. “So what now?”

The boy is quiet for a moment, giving it a good thought. “I mean, we can finish our breakfast or… we can, you know, go back to bed. Together.”

The cocky glint in his eyes is back, and she stares for a moment, wondering how much he meant it. “Would you like to?” she tilts her head to the side inquisitively.

"Well… yeah,” he admits in earnest.

She puts down her cup, making a soft thunk against the table. "Let's go, then."

Y/N truly brings out the best and the worst of him. Tom’s nervousness is now overshadowed by the strong desire to prove her wrong. Wrong about what, he’s not entirely sure.

He squares up and looks her in the eye. "My room or yours?"

"Up to you."

"I got fresh sheets?" he offers.

"Deal.” Y/N smiles. Then, she leans in over the table as if going for a kiss, making Tom’s heart leap out of his chest, and stops a breath away. “Race you to your room.”

She may be quick in her banters, but Tom is quicker in his movement. Within a few strides, he manages to wrap his arms around her waist, giggling like a maniac as he turns her around. They’re already breathless from laughing, the warmth emanating from each other akin to a part of their own. And when their lips finally touch, it takes an extra three seconds for it to really sink in.

He tastes sweet and earthy. Of black tea and honey. His lips are as soft as she imagined him to be, although he kisses a little rougher than he looks, mouth hungrily chasing hers. And how could he not? This unbelievable, impossible girl is melting into his kiss, all too glad to let him take her into bed.

He pushes her into bed, stares at her sprawled up on the mattress as he takes off his ratty t-shirt, climbing on top of her with a newfound gusto.

But when he closes in on her, she smiles. “I win.”

“Huh?”

“Told you I’d race you to your bed, right?”

“Maybe I let you win. Make it fair.” he nuzzles her nose, nipping at her lower lip.

"Why, because you're gonna lose?" she’s quick to capture his lip between her teeth.

He rolls his eyes. "Exactly, so just let me have this, alright?”

“Ugh, fine,” she dramatically groans, throwing herself back into bed.

He swerves down to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses down the side. His finger tread the line where her bare skin meets the fluffy bathrobe, following its path to the knot on her torso. With one tug, he unveils her bare body like a newly minted sculpture.

“Holy fuck." his big brown eyes impossibly darken at the sight of your tits. "I waited ten years to make a move on you?”

She humphs. “You and me both, bro.”

“Don’t call me ‘bro’ in bed.”

“Gotcha.” Y/N nods along, pulling him in for another kiss.

He loves how filthy her kisses are. Tongue laving into his mouth, nose clashing into his, teeth biting at his lower lip. Tom is both scared and horny for what comes next.

He pulls away, brows furrowed in curiosity. “I do mean it, though. How do you make ‘em sound like that?”

“Why? You got more girls to bang after this?” Y/N smirks playfully.

“No, there’s just this one girl… heard she’s pretty good in bed, so I wanna show her a good time," he pouts, playing up his boyish charms as he draws patterns on her hip.

“Nice.” she grins at him, not so much flattered as she is amused by his efforts.

“Thank you, I try.”

“Well, I told you it’s all about figuring out what she likes.” she toys with his curls, twirling it around her fingers. “So… why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

And with that, off he roams all over her chest. Marking his trail with kisses all the way to the swell of her breast. The hitch in her breath doesn't go amiss when he sucks a pert nipple, nor does the little moan when he pinches the other. He nips at the hardened, dusky brown thing and she moans. Crystal clear on his ear, as opposed to distant echoes through the walls.

"Ooh, you like it rough, don't you?" His face lights up like a fucking naughty boy with a new toy.

She smiles blissfully, giving his hair a firm tug. Sure enough, his eyes close and mouth opens in pleasure.

"Apparently, so do you," she retorts, not missing a beat, feeling his erection with her thigh. "Go on, off you pop."

He feigns annoyance, pushing her thigh aside and pinning it down with his own so she's spread wide open. His hand glides down between her legs and nearly slips from the wetness.

Their eyes meet --openly, deliberately- and he watches her eyelids grow heavy as he massages her swollen clit. Her sharp, keen eyes glaze over as he rubs faster. Presses harder. He watches her jaw drop as he slides a long, thick finger inside of her.

"Fuck!" she rolls her hips as he pumps into her, one finger and then another. Shamelessly showing how much pleasure she gets from his massive hand.

And through it all, she watches him, too. She watches the frown between his eyebrows as he concentrates on finding the right rhythm, right vibe for her. The dirty glint in his eyes when he makes her twist and turn. The half-lidded, slack-jawed look he's sporting as she arches into his scissoring hand with no shame.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop…" she rambles on feverishly, eyes rolling back as her orgasm looms near.

And he doesn't. With his thumb on her clit and two fingers pumping in and out of her pussy, he watches her come undone --twisting and turning and moaning, all from this. From him.

And he doesn't stop. Not until she's literally jolting from the touch and squirming away from him.

"Jesus Christ, you're pretty as fuck," Tom pulls away, eyes glazed with wonder as he licks his wet, sticky fingers clean.

Y/N will have to get used to these compliments, because right now, she could feel the warmth creeping up on her cheeks. "Stop it."

He blushes, growing hot himself. "So how'd I do?" he sidles up next to her and gathers her into his chest.

"Not bad…" she can't resist the temptation to fuck with him. "I'll give you a B plus."

"B plus?!" he gasps, tickling your side until you're absolutely wheezing and crying for mercy.

"Alright, fine!" Y/N swats his hand away. "A minus. Because you're insufferable."

"Sure, you don't look like you're enjoying yourself much…" he rolls his eyes, a lighthearted smile tugs on a corner of his lips and she can't resist kissing him then.

"Want me to show you how it's done?" she quirks an eyebrow.

"Do you worst." He's all too happy to let her get on top, watching her shrug off the bathrobe.

Gosh, what a sight is she to behold. Perched on his lap with wild tousled hair and kiss-worn lips like some forest fae. Ready to enchant him. Or curse him.

Either way, he'd die a happy man.

Her mouth is everywhere. She takes the time experimenting how she kisses, licks, and bites him. Slow and thorough. It drives him mad, really.

"Fuckin' hell, Y/N…"

"Hmm?" she mouths at his earlobe, her voice seems to surge right into his dick, all light and airy and deceivingly innocent.

He groans, unable to voice what he wants. He's not even sure what it is he wants. He just wants… more.

She rubs him through his sweatpants and he couldn't buck into her touch fast enough.

"Is this where you want me?" she murmurs into his neck.

But her mouth latches onto his skin, warm and soft with an edge at the same time, and he couldn't shake off the idea of it on his hard length.

"Fucking suck me off," he mutters, "Please."

She pulls away, and he's not sure if she's gonna indulge him right away or mess with him some more. "Well. Since you asked so nicely…"

Y/N tugs his pants down and bites back a grin when his dick slaps onto his stomach, eager to get out of its restraints.

Tom's heartbeat echoes right on his eardrums. His clothes and bedsheets might as well rustle like foil wraps to him as reality sets in. She straddles his thigh and puts a steady hand on the base of his cock. This is really happening.

A moment's silence as she puts her mouth on him.

She is every bit as sensual as she is with her kisses. Slobbering along his shaft with the underside of her tongue, tasting the leaking pre-cum on his tip, taking his whole length down her throat… His surroundings fade to black; in that moment, there's no thin walls, no decorum, no fucking pretense anymore.

"Holy fuck, Y/N, feels so fucking good--" he groans as she pulls back and sinks back in around him.

"So fucking mouthy," she chuckles lazily.

The vibrations from her voice make him thrust into her mouth, one two three times before she gags. But instead of pushing away from him, she grabs his ass, nail digging into his skin as she controls his movement.

She's so good, so warm, so… tight around him that his brain short-circuits. For a hot second, the only thing on his mind is coming inside her, before he realizes he hasn't even been inside her.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Tom slurs, tugging her hair back, her mouth emptied of his cock with a pop. "Don't-- wanna be inside you when I come."

"You were inside me."

"No, not your mouth," he all but whines, "Your, uh…"

"My what?" she challenges, catching the way he blushes. "Say it."

"Your cunt." There’s a bite to how he says it and it’s truthfully hot as fuck.

Y/N smirks, smug and devilish, as she crawls over to his bedside drawer for a condom. Behind her, Tom greedily nips at her hip, hand trailing up her inner thigh to find her soaking cleft once more.

"Where the fuck is your-- oh!" she gasps, feeling his mouth on her pussy, gripping the edge of his drawer at the shock.

The search for the condom is halted as Tom shifts the focus on her cunt. He grabs her hips and eats her out from behind, tracing out new patterns on her clit and her slit as she bends down on all fours. She’s absolutely dripping out of her core, and he can’t get enough. She tastes so good, and she sounds even better, trembling through her second orgasm.

“Check under my Advil and sleeping mask.” He bites at the swell of her butt cheek and lets her off.

She turns toward him with a surprised and dirty look. "Aren't you a surprise."

"Still think I'm a B plus?"

"A minus," she corrected. "And we'll see how your dick game goes first, bro."

He catches the condom she throws his way. "Stop calling me bro, it's such a boner killer."

"I don't think it is, bro." she grins as she straddles his hips, feeling his very much persistent boner between their stomachs.

Tom smacks her thigh in response.

"Alright, alright. Take it easy, buddy."

"Buddy?! Fuck y--" his words are cut off with a moan as Y/N sinks down on his cock with absolutely zero warning.

She revels in the pleasant burn of his cock stretching her walls. He fills her up so well-- no amount of toys or fingers or imagination could ever compare. It just feels different. It feels… like Tom.

"You were saying?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Shut the fuck up." He grabs the back of her head and gives her a bruising kiss as she starts to bounce on his beautiful, curving length.

She laughs, which makes her clench around him tighter. He throws his head back and pulls her closer, moaning in her ear. Mouth crassly seeking her tits. Finding himself lost in her catch and release.

God, what bliss.

He matches the motion of her hips with every thrust. Hitting the deepest parts of her even she never knew before. And the words cease. No quips. No banter. Their mouths are too occupied with more pressing-- more carnal matters. Just unrestrained, unapologetic cries of pleasure, released into the still, morning air. Heat building up as their pace grows more erratic.

Y/N grabs a handful of his hair as Tom hits her sweet spot and rubs her swollen little nub. Again and again and again until they're completely shrouded in waves of pleasure coursing through their veins. Cock and cunt pulsating in unison.

"Holy fuck." Tom's the first to speak up, arms still wrapped around Y/N, who's currently flopped on top of him. "No wonder those people you brought home would go screaming their tits off."

She smiles lazily, looking up at him. "I think we both got game."

He matches her dopey grin and gives her a crisp high-five and a hearty kiss. Things will be just fine between them.

***

please reblog, send me asks, talk to me if you enjoy my work! thank you so much for reading 💗💗💗

#tom holland #lord pls let the tags work #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x musician!reader #tom holland x flatmate!reader #ava writes

1K notes · View notes

slasherwife · 3 years

Note

I have a mighty need for more Vincent Sinclair, may I request Vincent with a tiny pregnant s/o? All cute with a huge tummy and they waddle everywhere later in the pregnancy. Very wholesome and full of love.

Omg yes u can😣💕💕💕 i took a v long break but hiiii 😊

Vincent w a small!pregnant!S/o

Some smutty themes :3

When you first tell Vincent you are pregnant, he is f r a z z l e d.

He may leave you to let it sink in for him, since he’s been hidden to all the good things in life for so long🖤

Or he may wrap himself around you for hours, to contemplate his eternity with you, and the pure love he’s nestled inside of you.💗

He becomes feral. You’re so sweet that everyone wants a piece of you, and because of that he’s shadowing you everywhere you go❣️

He’s smothering you in his scent, forcing you to wear his cardigans because you’re fucking adorable in them💖😭 It looks like a giant robe on you and it gets him super horny😤💞

His heart screams when he sees you waddle into the room in a sundress, and smile at him🥺 he’s got half a mind to take you there and then

You’re just a small, adorable flower to him and he’d rather die than see you get even a scratch😭💓

If hormones get to you, he won’t bother reacting if you yell at him in frustration or get annoyed with him. It doesn’t bother him anyway💞plus he understands

If you start crying tho..... he will cry with you. “Why are you crying my love *SOBS HARDER*”💓💞

So much touching, especially in front of his brothers 🌼 he sees it as claiming you in front of them, he gets extremely feral and protective of you, which is not like him at all!

He doesn’t tolerate them touching you at all, he will snarl at them if they brush against you at all❣️He’s hovering behind you at all times if you leave the bedroom

He even scares Bo, and at a certain point Vincent is the new dominant person in the house and Bo knows better than to even look at you the wrong way💞💓💕

Also✨Funky time✨ doesn’t stop. Vincent will handle you like a porcelain doll, and he’s very generous with what he has in this time period💓he surprises you multiple times a week by going down on you in the morning/midday

He sleeps with his manhood inside you sometimes, which sometimes you wake up to gentle thrusting and him humming in his sleep💓he sees it as him taking care of you and keeping you satisfied

#slashers #slashers x reader #i made a thing #vincent #Vincent x reader #Vincent sinclair #Vincent sinclair x reader #Vincent sinclair headcanons #Vincent sinclair headcanon #slasher headcanons #vincent sinclair x you #slashers x you

375 notes · View notes

dreamscapesin1582 · 4 years

Text

Vampires + Model MC

SCENARIO:

MC used to model for the ads of their travel agency. It escalated there and somewhat she received a few offers of modelling for catalogs and women’s magazines.

For some reason, she had a few of those with her when she got teleported to 19th century France and she fell in love and blahblahblah.

One day, she was shopping for groceries when her lover entered her room and found some interesting books peeking out of her purse.

Let’s say it’s the summer edition… aka swimsuits :))))

IKESEN VERSION: Oda Forces || Uesugi-Takeda Alliance

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE

*eyes emoji*

“oh shit”

what did i just stumble upon

he backs away, then thinks that it must be a future thing

“so we’re good” then he takes it again

“she never told me she used to model”

browses through every page with a furrow in his brow

like yall really be telling me that ppl see this for free?

where was this when i was cold and alone in my throne

the future is w i l d,,,

he’s not that fond of books but he will definitely keep this one

f o r s u r e

when mc gets back, napo will def ask her abt it

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART

“all these years in solitude and i still get blessed by the world”

why do i even go outside, i wonder

anyways mozart tries to put it back

mozart really tried to put it back

narrator: mozart could not put it back

makes sure no one is around before opening it again

“will this be the reason why jean will finally disown me”

nah lets just call it…….. m o t i v a t i o n

whenever he is in the music room, there are two (2) things in front of him

sheet music and the magazine

conclusion: he has no shame

“ITS FOR THE GLORY OF MY MUSIC MC”

LEONARDO DA VINCI

this one is up for any adventure amirite

so when he saw the magazines?

he just found the fucking treasure

yeah thats right im talking bout u

love yourself my hoes

a n y w a y s

after all those centuries, leonardo da vinci has never been this interested in anything

i mean being dead inside and all

he will examine the shit out of that magazine

the p e r f e c t i o n

he would admire how accurate the pictures are,,,,, and how s e x y

smirksmirksmirksmirk

ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

…………..what do u even expect lmao

jk guess what

contrary to common belief, the moment arthur witnessed the sheer power that is your body dressed in full glory

is the moment all his blood evacuated to his face

and ejected itself through the orifice that is his nose

b o l l o c k s

bless the gods that created the female sex

bless your mother

“oh fuck it bless everyone”

and he meant it

he blessed everyone with the collection of your pictures

imagine theo snapping his neck once it reached vincent lol

VINCENT VAN GOGH

he was just innocently killing time in your room, waiting for u

and then the devil inside him presented itself through a magazine

just poppin out of nowhere like “sURpRiSE moThERfUcKEr”

anyways he was like “oh!”

oh my go od ne s s g ra cio u s

anyone can see the sun in sunshine boi

considering how hot his face feels

it doesnt help that the pictures were clear and pretty

accurately taking every curve–

“broer i was wondering if that next painting is done—BROER?!”

that’s theo finding him passed out with the evidence lmao

ISAAC NEWTON

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA he’s gone bro

the brain of the genius is now dysfunctional

“iS tHiS LegAL???????”

he looks at the pictures with both horror and sexual frustration lol

nervously takes it away

for science part 2

cue mc coming back later in the day

“isaac have you seen the magazine in my purse?”

spits tea

“huh w-what magazine no i didnt see a magazine idk any magazine what is a magazine even”

mc is partly amused at how he said that in a second

“god pls take me away”

here it is,,,, i couldnt help myself since i keep seeing my model mc hcs blowing up my notifs lolololol

620 notes · View notes

fae-leaves · 3 years

Text

SFW Headcanon Alphabet (Louis Vincent Chauveau)

I made this a while ago without the intention of posting it, so I forgot who I stole the template from... whoops.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s very affectionate! Will praise you until your ego is bigger than the sun.

If you’re shorter than him he’d give you lots of gentle head pats.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You would most likely meet at either a party or browsing the wine selection at a store.

He’s a very loyal friend and will always be there for you whenever you need him.

If you’re ever sad and need some cheering up, he’s definitely the one to turn to.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddling

Curling up on the couch with a blanket and a warm drink, staring at the fire or a cheesy romance movie? Absolutely.

Loves cuddling with the cats, too. Any cats, really. It doesn’t matter.

If he sees you snuggled up on the bed with one of the cats, he melts and joins in as quick as he can without disturbing you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He doesn’t mind not being in a committed relationship, he travels a lot and meets tons of new people all the time anyway.

He’s a really clean person. If he’s left alone for too long with nothing to do, the house will be absolutely spotless.

He’s banned from the kitchen. Period. Full stop. End of story.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d ask to meet with you somewhere, preferably where you could have some privacy.

Louis would be super gentle about it and wouldn’t yell or scream, even if you were yelling at him.

He’d probably still want to be friends, but would obviously understand if you didn’t want that.

He’d give you space and be patient with you, and if you ever wanted to talk about it more he’d be open for that.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Due to his past, Louis has a hard time with committed relationships. On one hand, he’s too afraid that he’d hurt you or worse, but on the other he gets attached to people quickly and doesn’t want to leave you.

In the end, he’s fine either way. He just wouldn’t want to be with someone he isn’t 100% sure he’s in love with.

He wouldn’t want to get married/ propose quickly. He’s heard far too many stories about couples getting engaged/ married too quick and then realizing too late that their partner wasn’t exactly what they thought. Give it a few years.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he’s pretty darn gentle. After years and years of softly petting animals and playing piano in his free time, he’s trained himself to be as gentle as possible.H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Surprisingly, even though he tends to be a bit handsy, he’s not really one for hugs unless he knows the person.

When he does hug someone it's usually quick, unless he’s close with them.

If he’s close with you then get ready cuz he might not let you go for a while.

Hugs from Louis are warm and make you feel safe, and the scent of his expensive cologne, fine wine, and dark chocolate make it that much better.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him a while to say it, due to his past.

He’s scared that if he says it too soon, you’ll leave him or he’ll jinx it and the relationship will turn out bad…

You would end up saying it first, and after a while he’d feel ready to confidently say it back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Louis doesn’t get jealous very often. He understands that you have your own life and separate relationships.

If you were in a committed relationship, though, and someone was getting a bit too close to you for his liking, he’d stand right next to you and wrap his arms around you, give you gentle kisses, and mutter sweet nothings to you, all while staring the other person dead in the eye.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He’s a great kisser. He’s had lots of practice, after all~

His favorite places to kiss you (other than your lips, of course) would be your eyes and your forehead.

His favorite place to be kissed is his neck (kinky little f*ck)

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He wouldn’t really want any kids of his own, they’re too messy…

But he does love kids, and kids seem to love him, too!

He’d be great at telling dramatic stories to entertain them, and could always find a way to cheer up a sad little kiddo.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

That really depends on the events of the previous night…

If he’s hungover, you’d probably have to comfort him as he transformed into a blanket burrito and tried to sleep off his pounding headache.

Normally, though, Louis would hold you close and give you gentle kisses, rubbing your back and speaking softly.

He tends to wake up early, so he’d probably watch you sleep for a while.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Louis are always amazing.

He’d love to lay out in the garden with a bottle of wine (or perhaps two) and stargaze.

If you wanted something more fast pace, he probably knows of a party or club the two of you could go to.

If you wanted something more calm and loving, cuddles on the couch or a “sleepover” on the livingroom floor while watching all sorts of movies.

If you were looking for something… spicy… Louis would be happy to provide there, too ;)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Some things he’d be open about, but others it would take a long time with lots of trust for him to reveal.

He would definitely open up slowly, too scared that certain events from his life would put you off.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

That depends on the person and the subject, but usually he’s pretty chill.

The only thing that would definitely piss him off 100% of the time is cockatoos.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He tries his best to remember every little detail about you, and usually succeeds.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It’s hard for him to choose!

The moment you met, your first kiss, when you both said “I love you” for the first time, spending quiet nights in the dark with you, dinner by candlelight…

And if you decide to get married and/ or have (a) kid(s)?

He loves everything about you, so it’s impossible for him to pick just one moment to be his favorite.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

If Louis thinks you can take care of yourself, he likely won’t bother you by being overly protective.

If there’s ever a situation, however, where he feels you need saving, he won’t hesitate to step in and get you out of the situation.

Since he tends to deprive himself of blood like an idiot, he’ll make sure to stay away from everyone and completely isolate himself until he gets himself back under control.

He’d trust that you’d keep any secrets he tells you, and that you not tell a soul that he’s a vampire.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Oh boy

This man has more money than he knows what to do with, so obviously he’d spend it all on you! (And wine and fancy clothes and cleaning supplies and chocolate and cat stuff, but we don’t talk about that)

He’d go all out on dates. A fancy restaurant, roses, fine wine, stargazing, anything you could want!

He probably wouldn’t buy you too many gifts on his own, but if you asked for something there’s a pretty darn good chance you’ll get it.

If you thought a date with Louis was great, wait for your anniversary…

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Louis worries a lot… like… a lot.

He’s scared that if he does even the littlest thing wrong, you’ll leave him

He’s also worried that he’ll hurt you, physically and/ or emotionally, without intending to

Because of this, he can sometimes forget to care for himself, only focussing on you

He doesn’t sleep as much as he should, which leaves him tired and drained. It doesn’t help that he’s good at covering it up, either.

Possibly the worst of all his bad habits is the fact that he doesn’t drink enough blood.

He absolutely hates that he has to potentially harm others just to survive, and even though the blood he gets is collected in a completely safe and harmless way, he still has a hard time getting it down.

Not getting enough blood makes him irritable, cranky, and tired, not to mention the physical toll it has on him.

He bottles up his feelings a lot, not wanting to be a burden on others

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

You will never, EVER, see Louis NOT looking fabulous.

He takes every chance he gets to glance at his reflection in the mirror, just to make sure he still looks flawless.

Yes, he does take over an hour to get ready every morning, thank you for asking.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If he was truly in love with you, then yes, absolutely.

However, Louis has felt enough rejection and loss in his long life to be able to get over things much quicker than you’d expect.

If it was just a matter of not seeing you for a few days or even a few hours, then yes. No questioning it.

If you have to be separated for an extended period of time, you better be ready for at least a phone call a day, just so he can hear your voice, and a few texts every hour, just to check in on you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Louis hates cockatoos. He was once cursed out by one of the little devils unprovoked, and everyone around laughed at him. He was humiliated by a bird, and here he was thinking his love for our feathery friends was mutual…

His two favorite animals are birds and cats.

Louis doesn’t really like playing piano, but he was forced to learn growing up, and it’s a way to pass the time and possibly impress his partner, sooo…

He hates that since he was born a full blooded vampire, he can’t be cured and has to drink the blood of others just to stay alive.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like super sweet tasting things.

Cockatoos, but we’ve already been over this.

He doesn’t like people who act they’re better than everyone else. Even though he cares a lot about his appearance and social class, he’s aware that not many are fortunate enough to have a good life, and wouldn’t ever judge someone based on their appearance/ social status. Most of the time he ends up finding the less fortunate in life a lot more interesting than those who’ve had everything handed to them on a silver platter.

He also hates other vampires that intentionally harm humans or just others in general to get blood, especially if they can be cured of their vampirism.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleep? Who’s she?

He really doesn’t get enough sleep… usually it’s only 4-5 hours, not consecutive.

When is asleep though, he’s sprawled out over the whole bed, softly snoring, laying on his stomach with his face in the pillows.

He looks incredibly calm and at rest when he’s asleep.

He’s unfortunately a very light sleeper, but loves to pretend to be sleeping if he wakes up to you petting his hair or snuggling against him~

#oc #original character #my oc #my original character #vampire oc #vampire original character #oc headcanons #headcanon alphabet #i have no idea what i'm doing

19 notes · View notes

abybweisse · 3 years

Note

I've seen a thread on ig about how Undertaker was probably never Claudia's lover, and I know you kinda ship them or at least are a believer of the UT=Cedric theory, I kinda am too and I tried not to be bias while reading that post but I feel like their points were rlly weak. Here are some points that tried to debunk UTxClaudia: 1. Cedric canonly has a birth and a death date which means he is human (lol).

2.Because UT was already a shinigami when he met Clau, we need to ask ourselves some questions: Why should a shinigami be able to have children? Since the shinigami duty is a punishment for those who commited suicide. Being able to live a nice life, have kids and interfere with human affairs and lives does not respect those facts.

3. Isn't it weird for him to fall in love with someone that was born 24 yrs after he came to the human world?

4. UT expressed strong feelings toward all the other mourning lockets and Vincent especially. Why would Claudia be more important than the rest of them?

Idk but when I read this I went ??? a bit cause I dont think it rlly debunks anything :/.. or maybe I cant see it that way cause I'm a fan of the theory/ship. However I wanted to see the side of a theorist/ an analytical pov, so what do u think?

Thanks for thinking of me! 😊

Only two things boggle my mind, here:

How that person thought their arguments debunked anything in the world, and

How you managed to send such a long ask in one message....

Anyway, I’ve received asks like this before, but it’s usually from people who think more like that thread on ig. You can try searching my blog with some of the tags on this post, like #cedric k. ros—, etc. But let me see if I can pull up something that gets to the heart of this ask....

....Um, it’s really spread out over way too many posts for me to grab that many links. Anyway, a search for “cedric k ros” brought up a ton of posts generally on this topic.

Also, my beliefs have changed somewhat over the years. I wonder how old that ig thread is, since we’ve learned a lot more canon information on Undertaker and the Phantomhive family since I first joined the discussion of Undertaker’s true identity. So, I’ll address each part of your ask here and now.

Cedric has a canon birthdate and death date, so he must be human. Well, it means he must have once been human, but it doesn’t mean he’s a mere human now. Besides, the years of his birth and death are rather conveniently covered up by a speech bubble. The rest of his last name, too. Go check out all my #cedric of rotherwood posts. Cedric might have lived and died centuries ago, might have become a reaper long ago, too.

Shinigami having kids breaks the rules. Reapers being able to have children could actually be part of their punishment... if my theory is correct that reapers are reborn as a form of karmic reincarnation. That would mean reapers are born to biologically female reapers, who definitely do exist; there just don’t appear to be as many of them, which fits suicide statistics. A reaper having children with a human goes against reaper rules, since they are not supposed to meddle in human affairs... just collect souls. Technically, they don’t even judge the souls, they just follow a protocol to verify it’s that person’s time to die. This doesn’t mean it’s impossible; it just does, in fact, mean Undertaker is breaking reaper rules. But he’s obviously doing that anyway. Why not break all of them? 🤨 Edit: There’s a good reason for him to want to have children with human females (not even necessarily just one), for the very reason that it skirts around this punishment of making more reapers with reaper females. Reapers like Undertaker, who might be mating with humans, can cause the reaper organization to become even more understaffed over time. That’s something else I have mentioned before in my theory about them being reborn. There could even be a backlog of souls from suicide victims that are waiting around for new reaper bodies to be placed into. And the way Ronald flirts with females both in the reaper realm and the human realm suggests that Undertaker isn’t the only one who might be spreading around his reaper genes... changing the very nature of humanity over the generations.

It’s weird that Undertaker would fall in love with a human within however many years of deserting his post. Not weird at all, plus we don’t know whether love is the only thing that might have brought them together. Also, 24 years is merely a guess... and not a very good one. 136649 tried to destroy reaper HQ ~70years before 1889, so around 1819. The year these three things historically happened: 1. Queen Victoria was born, 2. Prince Albert was born, and 3. (Sir) Walter Scott introduced the world to Cedric of Rotherwood in Ivanhoe. He even invented that name, Cedric. Undertaker says he hadn’t been called a reaper in about 50years. That suggests two things: 1. He not only failed to destroy the HQ, but he also might have been captured, punished, and returned to his work as a reaper until he finally deserted about 20years later, and 2. If he didn’t actually manage to escape until around 1839 or thereabouts, then Cloudia/Claudia was just a kid at the time. Undertaker might have become involved in the Phantomhive family’s “work” before she became watchdog; he might have been an informant to her father, for example.

Why should he care more about Cloudia/Claudia than the other people on the lockets or Vincent? If he loved her, and if she bore his children, then it would explain this quite easily. Who wouldn’t cry over the death of their child? These other six people represented by the other lockets must also have been particularly dear to him, for various possible reasons. But he seems to focus the most on her locket. It’s also placed directly in the center of the chain; they are not in order of death dates. (In fact, their last initials create a pretty cool set of notes, with Phantomhive becoming an F or an F# [F sharp]. Please see #lockets’ melody and #leitmotif posts that date as far back as 2016). And more recently, her locket (and her locket alone) has become a symbol of Undertaker in series merchandise. Them having been lovers would explain it pretty well, I should think! And, if I’m right that “136649” means he became the 49th registered reaper of 1366, then Cloudia/Claudia died (was killed) not just on a Friday the 13th... but also 500 years after Undertaker was registered as a reaper.

Thanks for this ask, and please check out the tags below for more information.

32 notes · View notes

teatimemols · 3 years

Note

Idk if request are open if there not feel free to reject this request how about ikemen vampire mc/Theo where they have a newborn baby and Theo takes care of it for a day weird image in my mind? I’m weird I’m so sorry anxiety umm if it’s to hard u can always reject this lmao I don’t mind don’t kill me Lol

Relax, baby, I don’t mind, and I wrote it. ^^ I saw that you asked more than one person but it’s alright lol we can fucking fill this fandom with family fic lol And I mean it, no need to feel anxious about it. :P

It isn’t exactly the whole day ‘cause I thought a whole day would be too much for a baby to not be with his mom but it’s him only, at least the second half.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless ^^

Summary: Theo takes care of his newborn baby for his turn.

Genres/Themes: Family Fluff

Warning: I read only 8 chapters of his route (so some stuff may not be accurate?), and a mention to pregnancy, of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little One

She was exhausted.

Why did she have to get pregnant again? She groaned, trying to fall back asleep after getting up for the sixth time that night to feed the little mons-no, poor thing. She whined against her pillow. She could never call her baby like that. He had no fault. Babies were like that. They needed food and to be soothed from cramps, and they needed to get changed.

Oh, no, she was going to dream about changing diapers and wake up in a startle. She groaned and turned around to her side, folding her hands under her head, and blinked her bleary eyes.

She was surprised to find Theo's wonderful blue eyes staring back at her. She blinked again, trying to focus just she could be sure it wasn't a dream.

"Y/N," he said softly under his breath, raising a hand to her and stroking her arm affectionately, "I'm gonna see the baby next time, alright?"

There was a teary, broken tone in the word "baby." She imagined he didn't believe in it, not totally - not just yet. Theo was probably still feeling like he was dreaming the whole ordeal over. How could he have a son after all this time? She could imagine him thinking.

Either way, she was too tired to argue so she just nodded tiredly, blinking for a longer time than normal. She was so, so tired that she would let Theo do whatever he wanted, whatever he chose - and thank Goodness, he was reliable. Deep down, he was as caring as his brother.

He smiled a little at her.

"I will take care of our baby, Hondje," he whispered.

----

2 hours later.

The baby was crying again. His son. Theo swallowed. How could he...? It was just so hard for him to believe it all was real. It had been months of this prospect and still, he wasn't ready to accept it, that he was indeed a dad with a kid, that he deserved to be a dad at all.

He raised from the bed slowly, but without stopping. Theo couldn't let Y/N wake up from the child's cries once more - not if he could let her rest for a little longer. Theo had told her he would do it this time, so that's what he was gonna do.

He walked to his child's room and pushed the ajar door opened. His kid was crying his lungs out in the far crib, closer but still a little away from the wide window on the other side. Theo had wanted the kid to be able to bathe in the sunlight but without letting him suffer any consequence of a chill wind or a too-hot day.

Theo smiled, rolling his eyes. That kid made him feel so sentimental.

Theo strode to the crib and held up the little baby in his arms. He was so tiny and yet so loud and willful. Theo smirked, lulling the kid in his arms slowly, soothingly.

"Promise me it isn't hunger and you will let your poor mother sleep, little one," he murmured, softly and indulgent, poking gently on the kid’s so small nose. Theo would never let his patience run out on his kid. His son. At least not until he started acting like a brat much like himself. He snorted.

This kid, his son, fruit of his love with Y/N. He felt so lightly gleeful for the existence of this little child, with barely any of his honey hair, a loud potent voice, and a real, instinctive understanding of his own wishes.

Theo snorted again.

What could this little thing want more than to be satisfied, to not feel pain? Why would he care about talent and be jealous or felt insecure about himself?

Theo leaned down and gave a soft, tender kiss at the kid’s warm little head. The child seemed to be on the path to stop crying and start sleeping again. That was good.

Theo started humming a song Vincent used to sing to him. Vincent had taken care of him in a way too, it wasn't just the other way around; although Theo seemed to have some kind of "talent" to care for others, or at least for Vincent.

He hoped he was able to take good care of his son, too. Even better if he could so. Theo had always thought it hadn’t been enough, what he had done when he needed to take care of his brother. Vincent had shut down anyway.

Theo sighed, taking himself closer to the window while the kid seemed to prepare himself to sleep, a small thumb prodding his as small little lips. The sky was not as beautiful in the modern times, but sometimes it looked much better than normal - it seemed like the stars would have won the battle that night, against pollution and decay.

He sighed again. He was still happy nevertheless.

Then, he heard a rustle and watched a shadow walking down the hall.

"Oh, no," Theo slowly made his way to the crib and lay his little treasure inside, paying attention to not let his son's head fall fast on the bedding and walked to the door.

Theo looked back at the kid, sleeping now.

He was fine, wasn't he? Ah, the anxiety of being a real parent, with a real toddler making you feel like everything can be too much, even happiness.

Theo sighed one more time before waiting for Y/N behind the toilet's door.

Y/N got out not long after and she raised a weary eyebrow at him.

"What?" she asked.

Theo crossed his arms. And after what looked like a staring contest which they both knew she couldn't win, he opened his mouth:

"I told you to rest."

Y/N shook her head in disbelief.

"But I needed to use the restroom."

"I don't care," was his response.

Until they started laughing together at the ridiculousness of that.

"Let me take you back, then, hondje," he said, this time softer and with a small smile and a glint in his eyes.

Y/N accepted her husband's arm and they walked together to their bedroom. Just making a small pause to sneak a look at the kid's bedroom and smile to themselves. Their hands finding each other's and squeezing the other simultaneously. It was worth it. Despite everything. Every bad night. They, Theo, she, and their little son, they were worth it.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp theo #theo x mc #my writing #ikevamp fic #ikemen fic #Anonymous

44 notes · View notes

shibiichi · 4 years

Text

Baby boy baby & evil. Did these quick ass doodles in class yesterday-

Fantasy AU Vincent & Jeffery! Vincent doesn’t change that much tbh since he’s already a giant ass snake bitch in his *true* form but yeah- fantasy AU has him being a slightly smaller snake bitch with less arms/eyes and more subtle galaxy themes. Jeffery is a lil deer and I FUCK UP HIS DRAWING BELOW BECAUSE I COULDNT SEE SHIT DUE TO MY F U C K I N G LIGHT. Anyways they cute.

You wanna ask question about them then sure go ahead✨

#ocs #art #original character #naga #naga oc #villain characters #oc #shibiichi #shibiichi vincent #shibiichi jeffery

19 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

A-Z NSFW With Vincent Vega

Vincent Vega x reader

Warnings:smut obviously

Requested: by anon, Hi! Hope you have a wonderful day! I would love to request some SFW and NSFW dating headcanons with Vincent Vega! Thanks! I love your blog! 💖

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Author’s Note: Me writing? Who would have thought!

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He likes to have a smoke or something. He’ll sit at the edge of the bed if you let him or he’ll go out in the backyard if you want him to.

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your fingertips. When they dance across his skin it feels blissful, comforting.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Vincent isn’t really picky about cuming. If he’s high he’s extra clumsy about it.

D: Dirty Secret

Sex with him is usually pretty mellow. That’s the whole secret. He tells Jules that it ain’t but he is usually pretty chill about it but you wouldn’t tell anyone that and ruin the little street cred he has

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Experience is just such a grand word, like he’s had plenty of sex but if he remembers it is the real question there. In short, he knows what he’s doing usually

F: Favorite Position

The traditional, him between your legs at the end of the bed as you lay there.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He can be really funny. A lot of the time its you laughing at him stumbling around trying to get his clothes off but he will humor himself as well

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I: Intimate (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can actually be really intimate. He’s had a lot of meaningless sex in his life but if you talk about the fact he’s been with you for a while now you gotta think about how much he likes you to stick around. Although you are his girl, easy, and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Oh yeah you know this boy jacks off whenever he gets the chance. Especially if his job requires he take a hotel room where he isn't with you

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Your legs (is that a kink? Is now.) Just them being over his shoulders, touching them and watching your face as he drags your panties down them

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He’s quite traditional with the bed but if you get going on your couch there ain’t no stopping you.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice. The way you can use it to turn him on never ceases to amaze him

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn’t be into anything that you didn’t like, stuff you weren’t into

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving typically, he can sit there while you suck him off for the whole day

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the day to be honest and the mood. But typically it’s pretty fast but sensual

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He is never against a good quickie

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He wouldn’t be into that much, sex with him was pretty vanillia while you’re still getting started in your realtionship but he’d probably find it hot that you would even ask him to do anything risky

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last, etc.)

Not that good, usually he’s out after one round

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s too traditional for them

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

In public he’ll tease you to no end. If he knows that the two of you are going to get at it later he will spend the whole day whispering stuff in your ear as you go shopping and shit

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Vincents pretty loud, he definitely doesn’t hold anything back

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

Vincent has had sex with you in his car and the day after the fact when he was driving around with Jules, Jules knew somehow. Vince was pretty sure he was acting weird anyway.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

It’s pretty average

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, he thinks about it a lot anyway, the trouble is finding you at times you wanted to do it.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Out like a light.

#Vincent vega x reader #Vincent vega imagines

79 notes · View notes

fics-not-tragedies · 4 years

Text

April song prompts: #9 Masseduction

Today’s prompt was requested by myself, since no one asked for it.

SONG: Masseduction - St. Vincent ft. Santino D’Antonio; Words: 1900 (drabbles, I said 🤡); Warnings: smut;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch–twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge; @boopdedoop; @jardani-jovonovich-bitch; @ladyreapermc; @wifeofdarklordsworld; @mysticfluffyness; @zombiepandajfish; @kollover24; @greenmanalishi; @marytvirgin;

“I wanted to show you, Santi, after I could wear them better. I’m still getting used to them…”

Santino let out a considering sort of mumble. His eyes drop to the plunging neckline of your dress, a deep V that expose too much of your chest.

“I understand. It’s important to feel comfortable in what you’re wearing, bella” his hands were warm where they rested on your back, one thumb stroking in distracting circles over the purple embroidery of the fabric, “But, you, you look definitely stunning like this. If you don’t mind my saying so, principessa.”

Even without the compliment, the low, almost suggestive timbre of Santino’s voice is enough to bring you enough confidence, so you could look up at him. You lifted your gaze from the floor to Santino’s face. You were so stuck in your own head that you’d completely missed the way Santino had been looking at you. He appeared to be holding onto his usual reserved poise only barely, eyes dark and hungry.

“Really?”

“Sì” Santino’s hands skated down your back softly, slowly, to rest at your hips.

And then he’s too close for you to focus on anymore.

Then… a kiss. Santino’s lips on yours, Santino’s tongue in your mouth, Santino’s hand sliding down to rest on your ass, pulling you both flush together and making your knees go weak.

“Santi” you managed when they separate. His mouth is wet, his voice a shaky nightmare.

“Bella” Santino purred. It reverberated through your entire body, “I would very much like to touch you.”

You aren’t sure whether Santino was referring to you getting caught dressing up like this or to how the rest of his family was still in the apartment, too, and would surely notice Santino slipping away to your bedroom for such an extensive amount of time, would surely guess what you were getting up to. You bit back a groan. Embarrassment and desire swirled inside you in equal measure, feeding into each other.

Santino, in his infinite kindness and consideration, always treated you with so much care and restraint, but right now it’s unnecessary; Santino’s hands were electric where they rested against your body, and you wanted to feel them all over.

“We should lock the door…” you breathed.

Santino nodded, kissing your forehead before letting go of your body. There’s much less distance between you, as you realized, since the heels gave you couple more inches of height.

“Of course, I’ll take care of it. Please sit down, bella. I don’t want you to break your ankles in those killer heels.”

And you did, perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed, trying to get your breathing under control. Santino secured the door with a smart click.

You expected him to sit down as well, but instead Santino arranged himself on the carpeted floor in front of your feet, folding his legs underneath himself and drawing his hair away from his eyes.

“Santi?” You asked, thinking of getting up and joining Santino on the floor, too.

“No, no, bella… stay on the bed” Santino requested mildly. You watched, speechless, as Santino lifted one of your feet and placed it carefully in his lap, “They really do suit you, bella” he continued, stroking a hand down your stocking-clad shin until he reaches the T-strap of the black heel.

“I-… Thank you” you mumbled weakly.

Santino undid the strap, eased the shoe off your foot, and dropped it to the floor. Smooth. Methodical. He ran his hand over the top of your foot just like he’d done with your leg.

“Santi…”

“Is this alright, bella?” Santino murmured. He’s moving your leg, urging you to lift it so that he can rest your foot on his shoulder. You were rewarded with a single soft kiss against your ankle when you obliged.

You weren’t able to give a proper answer to Santino’s question. You couldn’t find the words to express how wet you were just from this: Santino sitting between your spread legs and showering you with gentle touches, your fringed skirt bunched up high enough that it conceals absolutely nothing.

“Yes” you breathed. And then: “I didn’t know that you were into this sort of play, Santi.”

Santino appeared to consider your statement as he set your foot back down and moved to take off your other shoe.

“It’s obvious that seeing you like that feels really… new. You don’t realize how lovely you look right now, bella.”

You can feel your face beginning to burn again, but thankfully you’re spared from responding by Santino leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your knee, to the inside of your bare thigh. He kissed all the way up to your underwear. The scrap of black lace wasn’t covering much at all, at this point; you felt the tickling puffs of Santino’s breath against you for a second before Santino mouthed at you through the fabric, then pulled away only long enough to tug the garment down your legs and off, crumpling them and tossing them to the floor.

Then Santino’s tongue is lavishing your folds, sucking at your clit, before he pressed his whole face between your legs receiving a loud moan from you as a response.

Some of Santino’s hair fell into his face and you reached out to helpfully tuck them behind his ear, which quickly turns into sliding your hand into Santino’s hair and curling fingers into the base of his scalp. You felt the urge to force Santino forward and thrust your hips into his mouth, riding his face, but you resisted, satisfying yourself with twisting your other hand in the sheets. It’s all you could do to not come just from having Santino mouth nibbling, licking and teasing all over your clit. Soon, biting down on the tip of your own tongue wasn’t enough to stave off your swiftly oncoming orgasm.

“Stop” he gasped. “If you keep going, I’ll- I don’t want to-”

Santino pulled off, a thin thread of saliva stretching from his mouth to your clit. He licked it away.

“You can’t resist coming like this?” There’s the trace of a smirk around Santino’s swollen lips, “I must admit, I’ve found myself curious about how much you could endure if I were to ask you to hold back, bella.”

You bit your lip, “Maybe you should try and find out” you mumbled, “but not now. I won’t last Santi… that was… too much.”

“No, not now” Santino agreed, casually leaning back on one hand, “So, bella, where would you like me instead?”

You knew Santino doesn’t meant it the way you were interpreting, but it almost sounded like Santino was asking for an order. The thought had you avoiding Santino’s gaze again, flustered.

“Everywhere” you gasped.

Your dress was short enough for Santino to put his hands up it, easily, so he did when you stood up, beginning a slow, leisurely exploration of the globes of your ass, the backs of your thighs. He seemed preoccupied by the soft black fabric of the stockings, running his fingers along the tops of them again and again.

“You can lean on me more, bella.”

“Are you sure Santi?” You asked, breathless. You didn’t want to topple both of you over. Santino’s only answer was to trace a fingertip along your ass, then your thighs, until he stopped it at your entrance and you bit back a whimper, wrapping your arms around Santino’s neck. Santino continued circling your entrance without dipping his finger in - a light, maddening pressure.

“Santi, please…”

“As much as I love this” Santino smoothed his other hand over the skirt spread over the tops of your thighs, “it’s probably best that you take it off.”

“I needed Ares’ help with the zipper” you mumbled, licking your tongue over dry lips, getting up off of Santino’s lap and turning around, “Do you mind…?”

Santino eased it down. The dress fell open, exposing your back. When you stepped out of it you were left in nothing but the stockings. It’s funny. Santino has undressed you before, a good number of times at this point, but somehow having the stockings on made you feel more vulnerable than if you were completely naked.

You were pulled back into Santino’s lap, Santino kissing along your neck and chest, roaming freely so now there’s nothing in his way. You caught Santino’s mouth with yours again, sliding further into his lap. This time when his hand disappeared underneath you, he pushed his index finger inside, you letting him in with barely any resistance. Santino checks in with you anyway, kissing the lobe of one ear as you groan loudly.

“Is that good?”

“No” you muttered, impatience making you bold, “Give me more. Please Santi.”

Santino huffed another laugh, pressed a kiss to your cheek. Pushing a second finger inside, then a third he made you moan even louder.

Then his hands were gentle on your hips as he guided you onto his cock, gentle until you weren’t, nails digging sharp into his skin. You let out a shaky exhale as he filled you up inch by inch.

You lifted himself up, sinking back down. Too rough, too fast, but it’s worth it to hear Santino’s breath hitch and feel his grip got tighter. You kissed him again, driving yourself back against Santino’s cock. Santino seemed content to let you set the pace, holding onto him but making no move to force you down or otherwise control your movements. You had never ridden him before, but one look at Santino’s face when he pulled back from your kiss told you it’s something that needed to be done more often. Santino’s expression is desperate, all barely contained lust. He actually licked his lips when he looked at you, like you were a delicious pastry he’s in the middle of devouring.

“Bella…” Santino’s head snaps up after you raised up off from his cock completely, before sinking down to take it inside your body again. He sounded like more of a wreck than you had ever heard. He calls your name once again, in warning, and you moaned when you felt it - Santino twitching inside you, the rush of warmth as he filed your tight cunt. You reveled in the sensation, but it wasn’t enough to make you come; you were stuck, riding the very edge of orgasm without being able to plunge over.

“Santi, I can’t, I need more-”

Santino reversed your positions so that you were the one lying on your back on the bed and Santino was looming over you. And then he’s fitting his long, gorgeous fingers inside you again, stroking at where your most sensitive spot was until your eyes were filling with tears. You pulled Santino into another hungry kiss, grinding up against his hand. It only took another stroke of Santino’s fingers against your G-spot and you’re coming around his fingers, fireworks going off behind your eyelids.

Santino continued kissing you, continued moving his fingers inside you softly until you had to groan from the over-sensitivity pushing his hand away.

This might be even better than the sex itself; this brief moment of nothing. Brains fucked out, head empty of worry, body boneless and relaxed. There’s a dopey smile on your face, you thought, but Santino was smiling too when he leaned over your limp form to kiss you.

#April song prompts #April prompts #santino d'antonio #santino d'antonio fanfiction #santino d'antonio fanfic #santino d'antonio fic #santino d'antonio imagine #santino d'antonio drabble #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #imagine #drabble #santino d'antonio x reader #santino d'antonio/reader #santino x reader #santino/reader #rs:drabble

38 notes · View notes