Re: never ballpoints [68/?]
anonymous
August 17 2010, 01:28:47 UTC
Poor poor Arthur, this is his first time, and being such a closed-off peroson, after this, will have a very hard recovery. This hurts so good, anon and it's shamefully sexy as well =V.V=
never ballpoints [69/?]
anonymous
August 23 2010, 23:51:59 UTC
Alfred comes first. He tells himself, when you want something for so long and have your hand as the only company, it's to be expected. He stays, buried in Arthur to the hilt and breathing through his nose.
His chin is at his collar, face hidden by long shadows and chest strewn with scores of white-purple. Alfred, absently, pushes a strand of hair behind his ear and kisses his forehead.
A beat passes. They breathe each other's air.
Alfred curls his fingers around Arthur, squeezes, and get a strangled, cut off curse. He ducks his head lower, shoulders shaking.
"You like it, don't you," says Alfred, and it's more to convince himself. "It feels good."
It's not a question, but Arthur's head shakes anyway, imperceptible in the dark. Alfred pulls out and lets him drop-feels his legs, turned to jelly-and stables Arthur with a hand on his thigh.
"This'll be even better," he reassures, and kisses a wet, pink trail to Arthur's bellybutton. On his knees, he mouths at Arthur's cock
( ... )
never ballpoints [70/?]
anonymous
August 23 2010, 23:53:13 UTC
It's five sixteen and thirty-two seconds. Thirty-three. Arthur is throwing his tie around the starched collar of his shirt, and leaves it undone. His thighs are shaking, and there's a tremor to his shoulders; Alfred wants to steady it and say-so many things.
(Maybe that's the problem.)
Alfred watches him, instead. When Arthur starts to pull on his jacket, he turns to the window, opens the blinds, and winces at the blaze of milky sunlight.
never ballpoints [73/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 00:00:37 UTC
Alfred's stomach does an abrupt back-flip, and settles somewhere in his ears. The obviousness of the situation hits him: why else would Francis be here, asking for help? The boy with more eyes and fingers than Alfred ever liked. The boy who looked too hard for things he didn't know were there, and actually were, once you scratched the gilt away.
Francis.
"What about Arthur?" asks Alfred, playing it easy by habit. The concerned panic is even easier to dredge up. "Has something happened to him
( ... )
never ballpoints [74/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 00:04:28 UTC
The first thing he thinks is: did Arthur tell Francis anything? Alfred heard him tell Francis the limping was from soccer-but Francis would follow any loose thread, wouldn't he? No matter how long, or how knotted, or how far it went down the rabbit hole. Trust Francis.
Arthur told him, once, about Francis. A boy with parents too rich to know what to do; Parisians always on business trips and an only child seen as a burden. Good at inviting people in, better at keeping them and, as Arthur had put it, all sighs and disdain: very touchy-feely.
(Intelligent, too. Alfred has seen his grades all-round and he's certainly clever. There's an element of weasel, too, but maybe it's the hair. Maybe it's Alfred's jealousy.)
He thinks these over, rolling them through till the week comes to an end; a Sunday spent fighting pixel aliens and a bag of chips and does Francis know but how could he.
Alfred dies too quickly, and groans into the heel of his hand.
never ballpoints [75/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 00:05:50 UTC
Alfred falls asleep on the couch and wakes up, neck stiff and a head like a car crash. The television bleeps, little neon drips in the background. He jerks up as realisation hits, head spinning and mouth still stuck in yesterday's air.
"God damn," says Alfred, massaging the sorespots of his temples. He's teaching, today-fuck, the time the time it's-
-it's six in the morning. It's six in the morning and the sun is glaring through his window with a vengeance. Alfred slumps, jolts his aching neck, and curses into his sleeve. He can't handle this.
Two hours later, Alfred is brushed and dressed to his graph-patterned tie. With sleep-drunk fingers, he packs anything he can recognise and slinks out.
-
Alfred arrives in record time. Meaning: he isn't late, a first in the years he's worked here. Matt would be proud. He drops his bag and his head to the desk, and moans through his teeth.
Half an hour passes like this, until the shuttering of crowds starts at the door. Alfred pulls himself up, along with his smile, and starts to teach.
never ballpoints [76/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 00:08:05 UTC
The pleasure's gone. Alfred only notices when he sees himself in a bathroom mirror, and everything starts to free-fall.
He isn't happy.
He isn't-he works to teach kids why he loves numbers-equations-the simple beauty and the beautiful simplicity of math.
And he doesn't like it anymore.
(He knows, now; all he waits for is Friday and that one, sacrosanct hour. That one black moment. One boy who twisted the world's gravity the wrong way and left it stuck. Who twisted in Alfred's mind and left it filthy.)
Alfred puts his hands to his eyelids and lets the dark swallow everything.
-
HEY GUYS WHAT UP I want to write some bits from Arthur's POV -- however! I don't know where to start, so if you could throw some requests at me etc, I'll do my best to churn 'em out.
I might not get them done right away, but it should help give my writer's block a push.
Love every single one of you, and I hope you're all still enjoying this ♥
Re: never ballpoints [76/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 01:04:01 UTC
Oh Alfred, way to ruin both your life and Arthur's. >:|
I would be very interested to read some of Arthur's POV from the first time Alfred sexually assaulted him. I really want to know how much he suspected that it would happen, how he felt about that awful blackmailing tactic, and his coming despite his lack of consent, etc.
And anything with Arthur and Francis interaction would be amazing, too! Admittedly, I just can't get enough of Francis in this fill. He's wonderful, looking out for Arthur afjalsfjl ;____;
Re: never ballpoints [76/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 01:18:54 UTC
This fic! THIS FIC! Every time you update I think 'Oh god no, oh god, oh god...' from first notice to beginning to end & it stays there all day. It should be a crime something so awful is written so beautifully, so many of the lines take my breath away it's practically real and I love and hate it and can't look away. You are a genius anon. My heart is broken but I'm certainly enjoying this somehow. Agh, there was something else I wanted to say but it's vanished. This is what this story does to me.
I hope you conquer your block soon, & keep up the amazing work! God I'm afraid to see inside Arthur's head, but am looking forward to it too ;_;
Re: never ballpoints [76/?]
anonymous
August 24 2010, 01:57:36 UTC
Authoranon, this is just so good words cant describe it. And I love that Al is starting to realize that maybe he regrets doing this?
Asor an Arthur POV, I think if you wanted to backtrack a little seeing inside Arthur's head after the first time Al kisses/fondles him would be interesting, and then have it progress up until he actually rapes him. And maybe some conflict of "Should I tell Francis or not?". Any way yo do it, I'm sure its going to be awesome.
parts 1 - 56: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/15068.html?thread=45877212#t45877212
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You are a good writer, though. I cannot stop reading this. But I feel just a bit sick...
Reply
His chin is at his collar, face hidden by long shadows and chest strewn with scores of white-purple. Alfred, absently, pushes a strand of hair behind his ear and kisses his forehead.
A beat passes. They breathe each other's air.
Alfred curls his fingers around Arthur, squeezes, and get a strangled, cut off curse. He ducks his head lower, shoulders shaking.
"You like it, don't you," says Alfred, and it's more to convince himself. "It feels good."
It's not a question, but Arthur's head shakes anyway, imperceptible in the dark. Alfred pulls out and lets him drop-feels his legs, turned to jelly-and stables Arthur with a hand on his thigh.
"This'll be even better," he reassures, and kisses a wet, pink trail to Arthur's bellybutton. On his knees, he mouths at Arthur's cock ( ... )
Reply
(Maybe that's the problem.)
Alfred watches him, instead. When Arthur starts to pull on his jacket, he turns to the window, opens the blinds, and winces at the blaze of milky sunlight.
Alfred doesn't turn around till the door creaks.
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(Matthew complains about all the kids around and Alfred wishes he still was one.)
And it's Wednesday, and he's just falling back into the routine of late-nights-late-mornings when a knocking brings him from a lie-in.
"Alright, alright," he says, yawning through his fingers, as the knocking borders on an attempt to break the door down ( ... )
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Francis.
"What about Arthur?" asks Alfred, playing it easy by habit. The concerned panic is even easier to dredge up. "Has something happened to him ( ... )
Reply
Arthur told him, once, about Francis. A boy with parents too rich to know what to do; Parisians always on business trips and an only child seen as a burden. Good at inviting people in, better at keeping them and, as Arthur had put it, all sighs and disdain: very touchy-feely.
(Intelligent, too. Alfred has seen his grades all-round and he's certainly clever. There's an element of weasel, too, but maybe it's the hair. Maybe it's Alfred's jealousy.)
He thinks these over, rolling them through till the week comes to an end; a Sunday spent fighting pixel aliens and a bag of chips and does Francis know but how could he.
Alfred dies too quickly, and groans into the heel of his hand.
Reply
"God damn," says Alfred, massaging the sorespots of his temples. He's teaching, today-fuck, the time the time it's-
-it's six in the morning. It's six in the morning and the sun is glaring through his window with a vengeance. Alfred slumps, jolts his aching neck, and curses into his sleeve. He can't handle this.
Two hours later, Alfred is brushed and dressed to his graph-patterned tie. With sleep-drunk fingers, he packs anything he can recognise and slinks out.
-
Alfred arrives in record time. Meaning: he isn't late, a first in the years he's worked here. Matt would be proud. He drops his bag and his head to the desk, and moans through his teeth.
Half an hour passes like this, until the shuttering of crowds starts at the door. Alfred pulls himself up, along with his smile, and starts to teach.
Reply
He isn't happy.
He isn't-he works to teach kids why he loves numbers-equations-the simple beauty and the beautiful simplicity of math.
And he doesn't like it anymore.
(He knows, now; all he waits for is Friday and that one, sacrosanct hour. That one black moment. One boy who twisted the world's gravity the wrong way and left it stuck. Who twisted in Alfred's mind and left it filthy.)
Alfred puts his hands to his eyelids and lets the dark swallow everything.
-
HEY GUYS WHAT UP I want to write some bits from Arthur's POV -- however! I don't know where to start, so if you could throw some requests at me etc, I'll do my best to churn 'em out.
I might not get them done right away, but it should help give my writer's block a push.
Love every single one of you, and I hope you're all still enjoying this ♥
Reply
I love your Francis and his perceptiveness and persistence. T_T
Reply
I would be very interested to read some of Arthur's POV from the first time Alfred sexually assaulted him. I really want to know how much he suspected that it would happen, how he felt about that awful blackmailing tactic, and his coming despite his lack of consent, etc.
And anything with Arthur and Francis interaction would be amazing, too! Admittedly, I just can't get enough of Francis in this fill. He's wonderful, looking out for Arthur afjalsfjl ;____;
Reply
I hope you conquer your block soon, & keep up the amazing work! God I'm afraid to see inside Arthur's head, but am looking forward to it too ;_;
Reply
And that's why I keep reading -_-
Good job!!! and sorry that I don't give too many praises but me is depress now =(
Reply
Asor an Arthur POV, I think if you wanted to backtrack a little seeing inside Arthur's head after the first time Al kisses/fondles him would be interesting, and then have it progress up until he actually rapes him. And maybe some conflict of "Should I tell Francis or not?". Any way yo do it, I'm sure its going to be awesome.
Reply
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