#feel like there's way more people around lately and all of them are obnoxious assholes

[sachermorte]

absolute parody of myself, painfully irritable because there were too many people on the bus, listening to mendelssohn so I don't throw a little hissy fit juggling an armful of dishwashing liquid and noodles in the freezer section of the grocery store. ohhhh felix we're really in it now

[blank468]

One of things that fans bring up when talking about Bakugo’s development is that Bakugo knows Deku well than anyone else far beyond his bullying. He’s supposedly feels sorry/guilty for Deku for not only bullying him but for the fact that he’s going through a downward spiral since the minute he was given OFA. While at the same time he hates himself for his behavior and realizes how he acts is not the traits of a hero and is probably why All Might didn’t choose him as his successor.

Let’s say Bakugo has always felt this way post Kamino, specifically after his rematch with Deku, what does he do to fix this issue, while knowing the problems Deku is facing ?

Jack s**t.

Bakugo’s actions and behavior barely differ than before. Most of his presence after Kamino is honestly pointless and shallow because he has no real contribution to the story. Him being shoved along with Deku and Shoto to do the internship with Endeavor doesn’t do any thing but give us more annoying moments with him. He acts incredibly aggressive and inappropriate when he’s with the Todoroki family. He’s only in that arc so he can have power progression. His involvement with OFA doesn’t amount to anything other than mindless yelling, guilt tripping and him being incredibly obnoxious. While at the same time he insults the deaths of the previous users and All Might doesn’t see this as an issue. Bakugo and Deku don’t even have any interactions that’s not about heroism, OFA or about them trying to surpass each other. Having these two interact about some general stuff would give them a chance to improve their relationship. I honestly wished there was a conversation between these two after Deku returns to UA where Deku talks about their relationship and how he truly felt.

But of course this doesn’t happen and we get the exact same slop as before and Bakugo continues to projects his anger towards Deku thinking that’s it’s his victims fault for him bullying him.

Granted he has been shown to have some regret for how he treated Deku but he barely does anything to fix behavior towards him and only waited at the last minute to give his half assed apology.

You can say that him training with Deku when he unlocked Blackwhip is proof that he is helping, but this doesn’t mean anything because Bakugo instantly gives up all because him constantly trying to injure Deku isn’t working. It’s only later in chapter 336 we see these two training together along with Class 1A, but it’s late in the story and what was given was too little too late. We’re just supposed to believe that they have been training and understanding each other together on a positive level off screen.

This series can go on all it wants about how their favorite wonder boy has changed as a character and how he now has the traits of a true hero. But nothing about what he does and how he interacts with others ever conveys that claim in a way that looks believable. The story has shown us that Bakugo’s villainous behavior makes things worse for himself and around other like Class 1A, and he never once felt guilt

Bakugo has never had a real reason and any saying for his actions towards his so called best friend and towards everyone in general. His reasonings for being an asshole and to why he hates Deku either doesn’t do anything or just make him look even more petty and also come across as if he is emotionally manipulating everyone around him.(EX. The moment when Deku tells Bakugo that he got his quirk from someone happened because Bakugo made him feel guilty about hiding his quirk to him during the Ground Battle Trial.)

I seen people say that Bakugo’s line “I’m sorry Izuku for everything” means that he’s always felt haunted by his constant guilt for what he did and the long term affects of it, but he’s also sorry that things ended up the way they did.

The thing is; Bakugo I would think would have the curtsy to put some effort into how he treats Deku before and after his apology.

I think it’s fair to say that Deku’s self destructive behavior is because of Bakugo’s bullying and him treating Deku like a failure. And I know this is also because of All Might’s heroism and how Deku viewed him, but if you remember in his rematch with Bakugo, he made it clear that while he was inspired by All Might it was Bakugo that he looked up to the most.

Instead of having it where he realizes that action are petty and taking accountability during Villain Hunt, he’s chooses to not only puts the blame his victim but also puts all the blame on Deku’s destructive behavior and his issues of self worth on All Might. Meanwhile he has the nerve to say he’s the only one that knows Deku more than everyone else and people like All Might, Endeavor, Aizawa, Uraraka, Iida and even Shoto can just piss off.

Bakugo is supposed to have changed as a better person; he supposedly now has a better understanding of Deku is now caring to him and yet he’s still acts the same as he did before and continues to antagonize others to satisfy his ego. Meanwhile fans continue to excuse this as a subversion of our expectations. Granted the way he treats everyone is not as awful as he was Pre- Kamino, but that still doesn’t excuse his behavior and how lazy his development is. And no, him telling a child not to look down on others otherwise you won’t recognize your own weakness doesn’t work because he himself can’t even take his own words to heart.

This is just the creator’s attempt at trying to paint his favorite character in a good light without doing anything with him to have him earn it. I can care very little about him feeling guilty about All Might’s retirement. I personally don’t think it’s Bakugo’s fault for his retirement; I blame him for starting the rescue mission and making things worse during the Forset Camp Training Arc. I probably would have cared about Bakugo’s dynamic with All Might if most of their interactions weren’t him being incredibly selfish and down right being a prick to his idol for no reason.

[munsonomenon]

⛧☾༺’Casual’༻☽⛧

Chapter 111: Bite the hand that feeds

⛧ pairing: rockstar! eddie x alt! fem reader, steve x alt! fem reader

⛧ contains: ANGSTTT, love triangle, fluff, fwb, use of alcohol, smoking, pining, pet names, implied friends to lovers, slow burn, asshole! eddie

⛧ word count: 5.4k+

⛧ previous chapter: here

⛧ warnings: allusions to smut ! mdni !

The beams of a blood-orange sunset illuminate your black-rimmed eyes as you reach over to change the current station playing on your car’s stereo, making it almost impossible to read the numbers over the hazy screen. You hear the faint tune of the end of a metal song playing from a station you don’t often frequent and decide to let it play out instead of squinting to find the numbers for the right station. Before the next song can begin to play you hear the raspy voice of a radio host going on about some deal a local business paid to be advertised. You let out a small groan, knowing you can only hear a few songs on your short drive. Leaning over to switch stations again, you are frozen in place by what you hear.

“Tonight, back for the first time since the local groups first ever North American tour, Corroded Coffin live from Hawkins, the very place the band’s success was founded- The Hideout. Our next caller will be the lucky winner of two tickets for tonight’s sold-out concert!”. You’ll never get used to this you think to yourself. Eddie and the band had been gone for six weeks, playing 20 sold-out shows at small venues around both coasts, bringing even more new attention their way. Everything was planned perfectly for their hometown return tonight, at the Hideouts Halloween bash.

Pulling around to the backside of the bar you find the familiar parking space next to eddies van. He’s standing by the back door with one foot resting on the wall, lighting up a cigarette and laughing obnoxiously loud with Gareth. You pull one of your mirrors down and triple-check that your hair and makeup look perfect before hopping out and joining them. You grab your bag and close your car door with the slam of your hip, the sound gaining their attention.

“Hey! Look at that, our biggest fan is here!” Gareth shouts while raising his arms in excitement. “Hey! Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” you say into his shoulder going in for a hug. “Where’s Jeff? Not here yet?” you say as you hug Eddie. “Yeah, he’s late.” Gareth sighs looking toward the pavement scrunching his face with worry. “Again.” Eddie scoffs, chiming in from the side. “I thought he got caught up in something with his girl, but he would’ve answered me by now, not sure.” Eddie snuffs his cigarette out on the brick siding of the bar.

“Wanna head inside? It’s cold as balls out here, and you have barely any clothes on.” he shivers. you giggle in response “I have clothes on you asshole! You know it gets hot in there.” you shout at him jokingly, you can feel his laugh against your ear as he holds the door open for you, sliding his hand over your back as you move inside.

Hot stuffy air and the clacking of pool balls greet you as soon as you enter the bar. It’s mostly empty except for the few people setting up equipment on the stage and the ’frequent flyers’. The name Eddie dubbed the drunks the bar let in early every night, they were only ever here for the booze and left before the band could even begin. With the size of the crowds they have started picking up lately, the owner has fans wait in line outside of the venue before every one of their gigs so the guys can have some space to set up and rehearse without all of the commotion.

Corroded Coffin’s success is something you still can’t wrap your mind around, it was almost overnight. Eddie had no idea until during one of your many nights in the back of his van down in an old campsite at Lovers Lake. Eddies lips were moving fervently against the soft perfumed skin on your neck and his hand tangled deep in the back of your hair. Whimpers coming from your throat with his every move. His other hand was in between the two of you, rubbing small circles teasingly along your panties. “I’ve waited all night to get you like this doll, couldn’t wait to get you alone.” he purrs into your ear.

You are absorbed in a wave of bliss before he promptly parts his lips from your skin and pauses in place. You let out a desperate moan, “Why’d you stop?” you can sense something is bothering him. “That’s me?” he whispers softly, voice full of confusion. “On the goddamn radio!” he shouts this time, raising his voice. He swiftly slides you off of his lap onto the mattress he has just for occasions like these. You let out another pathetic moan in the vacancy of his touch. “What- what are you talking about, come back.” you wine. He huffs as he shuffles his way in between the two front seats just enough to crank up the volume knob. “Holy shit Ed’s! That is you!” you laugh out in disbelief.

Gareth and Jeff had secretly spent the last month begging the local college station the play the ep they had practically conned Eddie into recording. He didn’t think they were ready, he was his worst critic and they both knew that if it was up to him their music would never see the light of day outside of local shows. Weeks of pleading and a twenty-dollar bill later, his voice was blaring from the speakers in his van.

Eddie was so enraged by their little stunt he didn’t talk to either of them for the next two weeks, which was when people started coming up to him in the bar to ask about his music, people he had never even met. You could never forget the grin he had on his face after he walked back over to the booth you always shared just to tell you that Corroded Coffin had their first real fan.

Not long after they had picked up an interview at the same station that debuted their songs to your town, and it continued to snowball from there. The media was fascinated by how a small-town metal band’s music captivated such a broad spectrum of people. The attention became overwhelming, Eddie didn’t have a choice in all of this happening to him and as elated as he was to be living out his lifelong dreams he didn’t know how to handle it.

He decided that the best thing for whatever it was that you two were, was to just stay ‘casual’, and slow things down. He swears it’s to protect you from the chaos his life is consumed in now, but nothing he could’ve done would’ve shattered you like that did. You were already too far gone and he knew it too, he was afraid of hurting you while he was on a path that wasn’t fully under his control. Robin spent that whole night by your side, laying with you in your bed surrounded by tissues.

She was convinced it was only an excuse for him to be able to sleep around with all of the girls flocking after him now that he had the attention of more than just the girl he flirted with in high school, and you knew she was probably right. You had no reason to be the only other girl he chased after now that it feels like half of the country wants him too.

You follow closely behind Eddie, his hand hovering over your wrist with a loose grip as he guides you to the bartop. “Hey uh- can I get a Budweiser and a vodka Redbull? thanks, man.” He says as he slides his cash to the other side of the sticky wooden surface. You take a seat at the nearest bar stool. Eddie scoots closer to you, sticking his hand in the back pocket of your black denim shorts, and rubbing small circles over the fabric. “You excited for tonight?” his eyes gleaming down into yours. “Playing that song I told you I would. Finally got the fucking solo down, it was driving me batshit. Barely even slept last night, wanted to get it right for you.” he smiles running his thumb along the seam of your pocket. Your heart skips a beat with every word he says.

It had been months since you two had been closer than a stray phone call. He leans in and pushes your hair behind your ear, eyes never parting yours for even a second. “I missed you, you know that?” his voice laced with seduction. You couldn’t resist melting under his touch. It was like electricity being shot down your spine. As much as you wish you didn’t, you craved his touch almost every night since the last you felt it. “I bet you did.” you mock quietly turning your face away from his. You feel the warmth of his skin as he places his hand on your flushed cheek pulling you back around to him.

“Hey! They don’t make girls like you out in California!” his laughter fills the air around you as the bartender interrupts, sliding both of your drinks across the bartop. “Thanks again, man!” he shouts to the bartender who’s already moved on to his next order. “Oh yeah, you’re right. I forgot they’re all smoking hot models and pornstars” you say with a smirk slipping the straw from your drink into your mouth. Eddies face lights up with a playful glow, “I know what game you’re playing, doll.”. You play innocent shrugging your shoulders and continuing to sip on your drink. “I’m just being honest,” you say flatly. You can only imagine all of the girls chasing Eddie down while he was away, you knew better than to dream he was out there wanting you while he was with them. His thumb moves down from your cheek to swipe over your lips and you’re lost for words, in a spout of silence, taking each other in fully.

Before either of you can speak another word the doorman shouts over in your direction. “Hey, Eddie! Sorry to do this to you man but the boss wants us to start letting people in early, running a drink special tonight trying to make a few extra bucks. You wanna head back or are you ready for us to open up shop?”. Eddie’s hands instantly drop from your side, and you look up to him in confusion but aren’t surprised by his adjustment. He looks down with a look of ‘can we not do this right now’ written all over his face before grabbing both of your drinks and turning to face the door. “Shit uh- you’re good man! We can just take these to the back. Ready when you are!” he shouts back. He motions to you to follow him backstage.

As soon as the both of you turn the hallways corner you can hear the sound of fans piling through the doors. Eddie abruptly stops in front of you while walking, excitedly turning on his heel. “Oh shit, almost forgot to tell you! I bought some shitty face paint and some fake blood if you wanna do the honors of making me look all scary and hot for tonight. I’ll probably fuck it up if I do it.” his voice trails off as he keeps walking. “Awe did big scary Munson forget his fangs this year!” you cross your arms teasing him for his default yearly Halloween costume.

He immediately stops in his place again handing you your drink to free his hand before digging around in his pocket, pulling out the coveted fake fangs he’s had for years now. He holds them in between his pointer finger and thumb displaying them proudly. “Come on, do you even know me at all?” he smirks.

You’re halfway through painting eddies face white when Gareth inevitably stumbles into the back room. “Holy fuck dude, that’s sick!” he chuckles when he catches sight of Eddie sitting next to me with his hair in a loose ponytail and the corners of his black-rimmed eyes crinkling with his words. “I didn’t know we were doing this!” he turns to you, “You gotta do mine!”. You look into Eddie’s eyes and giggle. “Let me get finished up with the princess I’ve already got in my chair and I’ll get to you.” Eddie lightly smacks the back of the shoulder you have turned to him and raises his voice “Hey! I am not a princess.” he scoffs playfully. “Whatever you say, beautiful.” You say lightly as you continue to blend the makeup down his cheeks.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Eddie’s eyes were studying your lips with you two being so close together. His hand rests on your hips as you’re leaning into his face. You’re desperately hoping he doesn’t notice all of the small adjustments you make in your seat every time one of his hands slips as he’s talking to Gareth on the other side of the room. You’re taking full advantage of this moment, further memorizing every inch of him in front of you. “Doll? Are you even listening or are you just staring at my face?” he smirks after catching on to the lack of attention you’ve been paying to their conversation.

As you get closer to being done with the vampire face of Eddies dreams you insist on waiting to put the rest on until right before he goes on stage because you know he’s gonna end up smearing it all over his face. He tries to convince you he would be careful but you know him too well for that to work. “Don’t you pout at me, Munson. You are the clumsiest person I know.” you mock his fake sad face. “But the bloods the best part, you’re just teasing me now!” his grip on your waist tightened pleadingly with his words. Your thighs tighten with his grasp on you.

“Not yet! I still need to do Gareths too.” you say composing yourself, he pouts again. You roll your eyes in defeat. You turn to grab the vile of fake blood before you can hear Gareth yell “Hey, you heard the lady! My turn, move your ass!” as he runs up to the chair Eddie had been occupying, halfway jumping down on his lap in a way to force him to get up. “Okay, okay!” Eddie screeches dramatically with his voice high, raising his hands in protest giving his seat to him.

Eddie walks over to the countertop on the far side of the room before grabbing a beer for each of you out of the mini-fridge underneath. “It’s fucking loud out there already!” Eddie says over the sound of the speakers playing the intro to the opening band’s set, handing you both the cold bottles.“I know dude! I’m fucking pumped, it’s insane” Gareth chuckles as if he is in disbelief that any of this is real yet. “I can’t believe it either, honestly.” you reassure Gareth.

“Eddie, can you check my phone? See if Jeff ever answered me. We gotta go on soon.” Gareth mumbles trying not to disturb the brush you have pressed to his skin. “Sure thing.” Eddie drawls out and takes a long swig of his beer before grabbing his friend’s phone off of the shared counter space. His long fingers put the code in without question, showing you this was a trust they shared often. You continue blending the black circles Gareth had requested around his eyes not hearing a peep out of Eddie for a bit longer than usual. Turning your cheek up to face him, seeing him branding a suspicious smirk over his lips. “What’s so funny over there?” you pester gaining Gareth���s attention as he remembers the question he asked Eddie a few moments ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this Rachel chick man?” Eddie chuckles turning the screen with his eyes wide to show a half nude selfie in Gareth’s texts. He immediately lunges up from the space of his chair and passes your knees, reaching for his phone out of Eddie’s hands which are now well above his head as he keeps scrolling. “Hey! Put my sweet Rachel down!” he protests loudly still grasping for the device. Eddie’s loud cackles echo off the walls in the room while he’s balancing on his tippy toes fighting off his friend while they take turns screaming at each other.

Your attention is brought to the other direction of the room when you feel a sudden breeze accompanied by the loudly increasing screams of fans out in the crowd and a bang that knocks dust off of the shelves in the room. “Jeff! Where the fuck have you been!” the other two boys say almost in unison as their bickering immediately comes to an end, still in each other’s arms from their attempts to push the other away. Jeff’s face sours in a confused fashion directly after their question. He doesn’t speak a word as he raises a finger pointing in their direction, looking to you for answers on the way he found his bandmates. “Oh, that. Yeah, I was trying to make them all ’scary and hot’ as Eddie called it, and now they’re all over each other. It’s a turn-on I guess.” you purposefully deceive with your words.

They both immediately jump to their defense before Jeff speaks over them. “If it wasn’t Halloween I definitely would’ve bought that.’ clearly used to their antics. “Uh, hello?” Eddie’s voice says flatly waving a hand in Jeff’s direction, “Where the fuck have you been, dude?” he scoffs. “I’ve been blowing you up all day!” Gareth chimes in from the side, turning his head up to look at the clock on the wall “Look at the time. We need to be on stage within the next ten minutes!” his arms dramatically flailing toward the clock. “Okay! Okay! I get it, listen I’ll explain everything when we’re done, finish getting ready, and let’s take a shot or something! Relax!” he pleads, acknowledging his mistake.

“Doll face! Can you finish me up now? Lipstick, blood, all that shit!” Eddie mutters lowly, wiping away the drop of liquor on his bottom lip with his thumb. “Yeah, one sec.” you gag from the bitter taste slamming your glass down onto the coffee table. He grabs your now free hand to guide you off of the couch to the table and chairs his makeup was set out on while the other boys run through the stage door to grab their instruments. Gareth yells back towards Eddie, his body hanging halfway out of the door frame “Just come out on your mark.” Eddie gives him a thumbs up putting his earpiece in as you grab the burgundy lipstick shade he handpicked for tonight. “Was going for the ‘Rocky Horror” look.” he snickers as you apply the dark color to his plump lips. You bite your lip in response trying to remain focused on your task and now his eyes stare directly into yours. As you’re turning to set the lipstick tube down and pick up the vile of fake blood your focus is completely drained as you feel his hands on your waist, this time even tighter than the last.

“Why’d you go all shy on me now, doll?” his voice low, knowing exactly what he was doing as you turned to him dabbing droplets of the red blood down his lips and chin. “I’m just- uh, focused.” you spill out as his hands meet the sides of your cheeks, leaning in closer. He stays still for a moment, your breaths mixing before he lightly grazes his lips against yours. As he pulls away you’re pulled like a magnet following his motions, desperately seeking more of his touch. “Uh uh, careful now doll. Don’t wanna smudge anything, remember?” he utters smugly as some form of payback, dropping his grasp on you and walking towards the stage doors sending you a wink before fully exiting the room.

You take in a deep breath trying to suffocate the rosy flush given to you from the rush of the liquor and eddies mouth on yours. You grab your face powder and a fluffy brush from your bag to try and conceal the pink in your cheeks before stepping out to join the rest of the crowd. You take your cardigan off of your arms and drape it over the back of the dressing room couch and grab your bag to make your way to the bar before the show begins. The end of the hallway puts you out to a view of the most people you’ve ever seen in the room at once, forcing you to squeeze through the tightly enclosed rows of bodies, now desperate for another drink. Glancing between the gaps in the lines of people who all had the same idea as you, you spot a face you never would have thought you’d see in the crowd of a metal show. “‘Scuse me! sorry-“ you squeak out making your way over to give him a tap on the back.

“Hey! What are you doing out this late in a place like this?” you giggle sarcastically. His face is glazed over in confusion as he turns his head your way before lighting up brightly with shock. “Damn, you caught me.” he laughs off with his hands up. “I just came to see what all the fuss was about. You believe this shit? I’m paying a door fee to get into a show for the kid who used to wear fangs to school.” he scoffs and your lips immediately part with a chuckle. “Oh, just you wait Stevie. Just you wait…” you drag out knowing the trick Eddie, very literally had in his pocket. His face drops as your words hit his ears “Still?” he says almost disapointedly. “I’m not one to spoil surprises!” you say in Eddie’s defense.

The lights in the bar go low and the crowd reacts loudly. “What are you havin’? I’m buying.” Steve yells in your ear over the eruption in the crowd. “Vodka Redbull!” you reply loudly before he repeats your order to the bartender. Your head turns as you hear the loud banging of drums from the speakers on the stage signaling the beginning of the band’s set making your heart pound with every beat. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this from the crowds of one of his shows. As each of them makes their way through the clouds of smoke puddling onto the stage floor the voices roar with anticipation. You push your face in close to Steve’s neck so he can hear you. “I’m gonna head over, just come find me when our drinks are ready!” not wanting to miss a second of Eddie’s performance. Steve nods his head and mumbles a few words you can’t quite make out as the first song of the night starts kicking up.

You shove your way up closer to the stage just in time to see Eddie’s figure appear through the lights, brandishing his signature red crackled guitar. His ring-littered fingers grasp the mic as his eyes scan the sea of people before him. His face is low, submerged in his dark curls, “Hawkins, Indiana…” he whispers seductively with a lopsided smirk over his dark-painted lips, laughing away some of his nerves with the chanting screams. “You have no clue how happy it makes me to see you tonight.” his eyes spotting yours from across the room with a soft smile. The rest of the band playing out a slowly building melody behind him. His eyes still stare daggers directly into yours before blaring out the first chord of their opening song. Eddie thrashes his head as he begins to play, moving all of his hair out of his face to fully display his ghostly skin and sharp teeth to the crowd for the first time causing them to become even louder.

He moves slightly to face you as if the wild screams erupting were all for you, licking the edges of the sharp fangs as he spots you, still playing every chord seamlessly like his life depended on it. It wasn’t until this moment looking to the nearly sinful scene before you, that you noticed how worked up he had gotten you tonight. Watching his fingers flicking over the strings and the bouncing of his hair with every head bang, your knees fall weak. Drips of his sweat glowing under the stage lights bring you flashbacks of his body panting over top of yours. His loosely fitting, white button-up is just transparent enough to tease you with the outline of his waist as the lights beam from behind his stance.

Your mind is in a drought of all thoughts other than him until you feel the graze of an arm around you and realize you had completely forgotten about Steve coming to find you. “Sorry that took so long, fucking slammed tonight.” he loudly says, hovering over your side while handing you the mixed drink he had ordered. “You didn’t have to do all that, Steve.” you tilt your head back to face him. “It’s nothing, just wanted you to have a good time!” his hand moves down to the small of your back as you’re still facing him. You don’t think much of it, he’s probably just trying to keep his place in the ever-moving sea of fans.

Eddie on the other hand, quickly takes note of you and Steve’s proximity to one another and is far from fond of what’s happening before him. He seethes as he watches your attention being spent on Harrington in the middle of his show. It had brought out something in him he had never felt before. He starts moving more intensely around the stage, his chest burning with jealousy at the sight of his arm around you. His voice harshening every word he spits out into his mic, never dropping his sight on you. He can’t stand the way your head falls back with laughter at his bullshit jokes. How close his hands are to the skin he’s so desperate to feel against his again.

Another full song has gone by of Eddie attempting to stifle the pounding in his chest before he decides he’s had enough. You cup your hand around your mouth to shout in unison with the rest of the crowd, feeling Steve’s hand lift off of your hips to clap along. Eddie grabs a bottle off the lip of the stage taking a swig before gathering in a huddle with the rest of the band. “I don’t care if it’s not its spot on the setlist yet! We’re doing it now!” Eddie presses. “Just figure it out, alright?” he looks at each of them waiting for a nod of approval before he walks back to his mark.

“How we feelin’ tonight Hawkins?” Eddie says smugly, huffing into the mic. He leans down setting his guitar down on the stand beside him on the stage before reaching down his chest, painfully slowly un-buttoning his shirt before sliding it down his arms and throwing it into the crowd. Gaining applause and high-pitched whistles at his newly exposed glistening flesh. Locking his eyes with yours in a cold glare as he stands back up. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s putting this whole act on in spite of you being there with Steve. The two of them never got along well. He was everything Eddie wasn’t, and the epitome of everything he wanted to be. Guys like him always took everything he wanted, and he wasn’t letting it happen again.

Eddie had it engraved into his brain that Steve Harrington has been in love with you for years, no amount of convincing evidence would make him come to any other conclusion. You and Steve had almost nothing in common, it even took a while for Robin to get you around to the idea that the town’s popular rich kid wasn’t the dickhead everyone made him out to be. She at points had even teased you about Steve showing up at your front door in twenty years with a wedding ring in hand on one knee, begging for your affection. You pushed it off as a dig at Steve’s very questionable dating history and nothing more. You can’t help but think maybe you were in the wrong with the heat of his hand on your hip and the burning in Eddie’s eyes.

He pulls his guitar strap back over his head, tuning the knobs before moving back to the mic. “I’ve uh- I’ve never played this one live before.” he chuckles, stepping back for a second to take in the screaming filling the room. “It’s a cover actually so uh, don’t boo too hard if I play like shit.” he huffs out. The sound of a bell ringing interrupts the silence of his speech as he moves his mic stand to be perfectly in line with you in Steve’s arms. “This is ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’!” he spits gutturally over the roars of screams. His lips curl into a dark smirk as his tongue runs over his teeth. Every muscle in his toned body flexes as he thrashes backward, his messy sweat-drenched curls sticking to the length of his neck. His chest faces the ceiling as he holds his bent stance, his guitar resting on his hip bones as he shreds out the riff you have ingrained into your head.

Your breath hitches with the first sound of the bells hitting your ears and you are brought back to Eddies promise of playing this song tonight. Him half half-naked in his boxers in his bed smoking a cigarette before sealing his promise with a kiss. You’ve never once seen Eddie perform with this kind of confidence radiating off of him. The almost envious rage he had painted on his face as he moved provocatively made your stomach twist. Your brain can’t keep up with the rush of emotions from the unfair looks Eddie sends your way whenever his eyes peek at you through his long locks. His blatant jealousy wasn’t something you could handle with the amount of alcohol flowing through you.

He falls to his knees with the end of his solo, his mouth agape panting for everyone to see him reflected in a way you had him countless times. His chest heaves heavily up and down as he raises his instrument over his head, flicking his pick one last time letting the note screech out as long as possible. He makes sure he grabs a glance from your eyes once more before tossing his guitar pick to a girl a few rows before you, a tradition he typically would’ve saved for you at the end of his songs. His lips are curled with his tongue in his cheek as he watches their reactions, shooting her a wink. You watch as she bounces with excitement from the encounter, squealing with her friends with a look of disbelief. A similar look you display back to Eddie with a scrunched face. His nostrils are flared with a devilish grin as he looks at you harshly mouthing “Two can play at that game.”, a smile appears on his face before quickly dropping as the lights go down causing an eruption of applause once again, everyone else in the room oblivious to his stunt.

Your stomach drops completely as hot tears of anger well in the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t believe Eddie had the nerve to feel jealous after he practically ripped your heart out to go off and be famous, and you were pathetic enough to reciprocate his emotion. You scoot your way quickly past Steve as he reaches out for you grasping onto your bicep. “Where ya goin’? he mutters in confusion with a sad look. “I uh- just need some fresh air.” you spill out quickly. You keep up your pace before shuffling between people’s shoulders. “Hey! Wait up.” you hear him say muffled by the hundreds of other voices around you reacting to the music. Your heart cracks deeper with every step you make, the echoing of Eddie’s voice off of the walls adding insult to injury. He knew what he was doing, carelessly eager to It takes everything in you to make it through the front entrance without letting the droplets framing your waterline spill over.

༺ the end.

chapter IV: ‘all this time’

coming: tonight!

a/n: thank you so much if you’ve made it this far! i decided to split this chapter up into a fun little double feature!! plz let me know your thoughts <3 enjoyyyy

[pepsi-maxwell]

19 63 cmjf ?

ough, more cmjf summer camp with "everyone knows but them" (snippet under the cut, caveat i have zero experience with summer camps)

punk and max are counsellors at the same summer camp. max is great with the kids because he's an asshole but they find it funny. punk's busy trying to keep a whole camp full of kids alive, plus stop max getting into fights with some of the other counsellors

this would be a lot easier if people would stop asking awkward questions about why he keeps looking at max all the time

-

All the kids love Max.

Punk kinda gets it, in a weird way. There's less of an age difference between him and them than the rest of the counsellors, and his asshole comments come off as hilarious rather than obnoxious, often sending them into fits of giggles.

Plus, he's apparently the best at throwing them bodily into the lake. Punk watches as he tosses another one into the glittering blue water before kissing his bicep, the rest of them screaming with excitement.

“Why are you always staring at him?”

He jumps, not expecting one of them to creep up on him like that. “Jesus, Jack, warn a guy first, will you?”

Jack just looks up at him in that way kids do, like he's trying to figure out a really hard puzzle, and Punk feels a sudden sense of dread. A need to fend him off before he starts asking more questions.

“Anyway, why aren't you in the lake with the other kids, huh? You been climbing trees again?”

“No,” Jack says emphatically, but it's not helped by the leaves tangled up in his curly hair. Punk plucks one out and raises an eyebrow at him.

“I wasn't climbing trees, I was in the bushes with Luchasaurus. He can't swim,” he says, holding up his stuffed dinosaur like it explains everything. “And I saw you watching him, why are you looking at Max all the time?”

Too late. Fuck.

“Well, I want to make sure he's not doing anything too dangerous that's gonna hurt somebody, Jack.”

It's a little true. Not that Max has ever injured someone before; he's always been incredibly safe, but as he picks up Garcia by the ankle and wrist and launches him, sending him flying, it makes enough sense.

More sense than the real answer, which is that he doesn't really know.

“My sister says if you look at someone a lot it means you really, really like them.”

Bullshit she did, Punk thinks. His sister's been glaring daggers at Christian Cage for the past two summers they've been working together, and he's pretty sure she doesn't—

Although.

That would explain a number of things.

Not that he likes Max. He's… alright, he's annoying, but he doesn't like him, certainly not in the way that this kid is implying. Christ, why couldn't he have asked about the birds and the bees instead?

“What makes you think I like him?” he asks, trying not to sound vaguely panicked, but also he needs to know where people are getting that impression from, who else is going around thinking this.

“Well, you always sit next to him when we build a campfire—”

Well, that's just a coincidence. Everyone has to sit somewhere, and if he likes to keep an eye on Max in the dark to make sure he's not up to anything stupid, then that just benefits everyone—

“And you yelled at Bryan when Max's special meal wasn't there that one dinner—”

Okay, he didn't yell, and even if he did it was only because Max is a nightmare when he gets hangry and he didn't want to deal with him like that—

“And Darby said he saw you pulling his hair one night and then you started rolling around on the ground with him, and then Eddie told him to go back to bed, and Christian says if you pull someone's hair it means you like-like them—”

Well, that was…

That was a fight. That was just a dumb fight where they'd grappled each other over some inane bullshit he can't even remember. Nothing had even happened, but he makes a note to have the world's most uncomfortable talk with Kingston to find out what the fuck he saw and why he didn't think to fucking mention it—

“Christian Cage is a liar and a bad influence, so don't listen to him, alright?”

Max glances in their direction and must catch the look of absolute mortified desperation on Punk's face, because he makes a beeline over to them.

Punk tries to take his eyes off his calves as he runs, he really does. They're just so defined, he gets a little jealous is all.

“See?” Jack says, with all the conviction of a seven year old vindicated.

Punk wishes he could tell a seven year old to shut the fuck up.

“Hey, Jungle Jack, mind if I borrow Punky-boy for a second?” Max says, not even waiting for an answer before scooping a protesting Punk up over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. “Thanks buddy!”

“Max, what—put me the fuck down, you asshole,” he demands, watching Jack run back off into the bushes, uncaring. Little shit.

“Hmm. Nope,” he responds, breaking into a light jog. “Chuck wanted to see if I could throw you into the lake, and we gotta give the people what they want, now, don't we?”

Punk tries to kick his legs, wriggle free, but Max's arm is tight against his side, pressing his stomach into his shoulder, and then his hand shifts, grabbing his ass for a better hold—

Oh.

Punk feels his mental perspective shift, like he's been staring at an optical illusion for the last five hours and he's finally seen the vase, not the two people talking, but before he can fully process it, reality shifts as Max tosses him bodily out into the water.

The kids are still cheering by the time Punk surfaces, drenched to the bone, hair flat against his face, wiping the water from his eyes.

He glares up at Max as Max grins back down at him, and he thinks, no, he definitely doesn't like-like him.

[schismusic]

THE DISCOGRAPHY PRINCIPLE, Episode 1: Autechre - or, Into Battle with the Art of Noise

The discography principle may be defined as an objective way to determine whether or not you're worthy of calling a band or artist "your favorite" or "one of your favorites". A possible enunciation of it goes as follows:

"Let u ≝ some asshole, B ≝ {b|b is a band}, n ≝ #({x|x is a record by b}); let p = #({y|y is a record by b in u's possession}) = p1 + p2 wherein p1 ≝ number of physical records by b you own in any format and p2 ≝ number of records by b you have downloaded. If p ≥ n ∨ p2 = n (for n → +∞), then ∃b∈B such that b is one of u's favorite bands."

When u = me, this subset of B (which we might call Bf) is comprised of six bands, off the top of my head: Autechre, Godflesh, Shellac, Kraftwerk, Fugazi and Coil, listed in no particular order.

If you want to read the prologue to this series, go here. Otherwise, let's get going.

The concept of usefulness in the context of art criticism is very slippery and, one could argue, absolutely toxic and painful to the development of artistic expressions of all kinds. I have, in the past, been one of the leading proponents of it, but you have to understand: I routinely dealt with people who would add Arctic Monkeys and late-era Caparezza to their end-of-year lists. Drastic measures were in order, I'm sure you guys get it. In virtually all other instances, defining a record "useless" falls into one of the earliest trappings of retrograde art criticism, which is the supposed non-functionality of bad art, or more punctually the quality of non-functionality as inherently bad - wherein I am rather ready to assure you all that most of my favourite records of the past six or seven years fall into the category of absolutely unapproachable crocks of shit OR are records absolutely no one felt the need for except me (and even then, sometimes I didn't even know I'd love them, see Yellow Eyes' recent neofolk foray Master's Murmur).

A similar argument could be made for the concept of incomprehensibility. There are records that are just cryptic for the hell of it - and it would be unfair to label power electronics as such, in that power electronics is usually very direct with what it is about and how it takes it across, but early Brandt Brauer Frick records might very easily fit the bill: who, really, feels the need for live-played techno with classically trained interpreters except for people who like to groove but also have to pretend they know their shit about music and don't want any of that fake computer shit? Or even, why would anyone legitimately give a shit about a Stephen O'Malley record without guitars? - but Autechre I think are simply a different beast. Wherein the vulgata concerning their production essentially revolves around the idea that their first three are the best, then it's all noises and "self-serving experimentation", whatever the fuck that means, and for as many autism jokes people like to make about their music because they simply don't want to even try to give their music a fair chance to stand on its own and just pretend like "wow these guys sure are making computer farts haha", one of the best conversations about music I've had in a while revolves around something that binds Autechre and another dearly-beloved of all obnoxious music people, and later also featured in this series: Coil. And I'm not talking about the (very openly stated) relationship of most-likely-mutual influence between the two groups, but it does stem from that, or more specifically from the aborted collaborative record they toyed with in the early 2000s. This aforementioned collaborative record (which, in the early 2000s, would have probably sold like pre-sliced and pre-Nutella-coated bread to the admittedly very specific audiences the two projects had, regardless of its actual outcome) was shelved, and I quote verbatim, for "not being good enough", which is simply something that you do not do in electronic music unless you are really, really good at what you do - the best at what you do, even. Which would explain why no one ever shuts the fuck up in that particular world and everyone has like a full record and three splits/EPs out every year.

Autechre is something you have to want to waste a lot of time (and money, if you're an obsessive like me) into. There's a number of very cute cheat codes to getting Autechre but the gist of it is that just about nobody I know actually followed the advice literally everyone hands out - i.e. to start with Incunabula. I know I absolutely didn't. The first Autechre record I listened to was Confield, which I later purchased at a certain particularly well-known record shop in my city: my first thought was I really didn't know what to make of it. In retrospect, it's no surprise: literally any other Autechre record would have been better. There are more accessible ones and more inaccessible ones, but either of these options probably would have given me a different shock that would probably have hit me harder. Had I picked up a record like Amber, or Tri Repetae, I probably would have been like "damn this is very '90s but at the same time it still sounds very futuristic in terms of approach and arrangement choices, there's like a billion albums-of-the-month on Pitchfork that sound exactly like any one of these tracks but stretched to forty minutes to one hour" and maybe give it another listen, and then two, and then before I know it Rsdio becomes my most played track of the year (unfortunately, as you might have guessed, this isn't autobiographical, but that's because I ultimately got Tri Repetae on vinyl and mostly play it from there - it's "incomplete without surface noise", after all). If I had picked elseq, or - God forbid - the NTS Sessions, which at that point had been out for like a year or something, you know for a fact I would have tried to get absolutely fucked up by listening to the full four-hour thing while doing something really stupid, like taking a walk around in a blizzard or while in sleep deprivation or while studying linear algebra hoping that my brain would increase in mass all of a sudden. I would not have gotten it, obviously, because I was and to a massive extent still am an idiot who got lucky. Anyway, the point is that Confield felt and in part still feels to me like it's unexpressed potential, but not in the way a record like Radioactivity by Kraftwerk is: Confield looks at you, the listener, and goes "there's a whole other world where we already are. Too bad you can't see any of this shit, because we most definitely do!". Its second half gets noticeably more focused if you listen to the whole thing in sequence, though.

My second attempt was with Oversteps, bought on the same day as Confield, and again - at that point I was already kind of expecting Autechre to just fucking smoke me right then and there. Of course it did not happen, because Oversteps is a fundamentally easier record to approach than Confield is - and in buying it, I also missed the chance to buy Exai, which promptly disappeared from the record shop the very second I managed to go back there, and which would have probably gotten me in a whole ass elseq loop, but let's not dwell on the past, what the fuck did I know then? It's not like anyone has the idea to start with a two-hour-and-a-half impenetrable wall of glitching after all. Whatever. Oversteps is pretty cool though, because it gave me a pretty neat access into a number of other Autechre factory-seals like their stark sense of melody and a style of compositionl development recalling more the idea of a place than it would an actual track (and not even in the Ambient 4: On Land way, where it's "music that describes environments" inspired by the anything-goes bombastic mnemonic approach of Federico Fellini's Amarcord, but rather in its own way of "music that is the environment it describes": spatially organized arrangements, something meant for you to explore, and as such something that you need to spend time in, perhaps repeatedly). Obviously articulating this train of thought was absolutely out of the question and I therefore kept saying "damn, I need to get to this record and listen to it in full", which I later found out doesn't fly more often than not. Autechre is something you want to get back to and waste a shit ton of time on, every track approached like a little world or some sort of escape room even, where all the clues are there and everything you need to do is look (listen) more intently than you did before. I like to think of Autechre as a challenge and I'm assuming that Sean Booth and Rob Brown kinda see it like that too, but not as a challenge to the listener as much as they do it to challenge themselves.

There are absolutely going to be Autechre records you like more than others, some are not gonna speak to you at all, some might be more approachable or just more stylistically in line with what you do (and the best part is that you're gonna find it changes from person to person), but the best part is that there is never an Autechre record that feels thrown out for a quick buck or rushed or forced to develop old ideas and intuitions - for better or for worse, that is. At the same time there definitely is a form of continuity that makes it especially rewarding to listen to Autechre sequentially, the way some people like to watch and rank a director's filmography.

After the pandemic ended, and as people were beginning to go out again albeit maybe wearing masks and gloves, I dropped out of Mathematics and started watching a ton of movies. I fell in love with Nicolas Winding Refn, a director that makes it really easy to put on a movie and let it slide over your skin bathing you in thrills and aesthetics, but is pretentious enough to make that stuff at least try to have something to say (some people argue that it's detrimental to Refn's work, and to an extent I agree; I, for one, simply can't help but appreciate a man who very gleefully declares that the female experience is a mystery to him and at the same time that there's a sixteen-year-old girl within him and that he plays dolls with his daughters and that he never had a girlfriend until he met his current wife Lia Corfixen. The Neon Demon feels like it'd be just one step away from being a male-gaze-glorifying flick if it wasn't for its inherent absurdity and absolute lack of understanding of human relationships that makes it that bit less relatable and more forcefully estranging). Anyway as I was fixating on Refn's movies and downloaded all of them to watch and rewatch them, I also found myself back onto Autechre and decided to take a step back. This time I picked Amber - Incunabula being described as their masterpiece still sort of intimidated me. In retrospect, if I had heard Incunabula without a clear picture of what Autechre would evolve into, I'd have had a hearty laugh and thought something like "man, this aged horribly". Amber has a bit of an edge to it, despite what Booth & Brown say about it, and the elements left over from Incunabula are turned into a less rigid, more impalpable version of themselves that isn't afraid to, for instance, remove all drums and toy with the listener's sense of rhythm in a way something like Kalpol Introl never really did (see: Nine) or face a horrifying creeping darkness that Incunabula's more clearly urban/cyberpunk sensitivities more swiftly dealt with, for instance on tracks like Teartear.

Not one to be easily discouraged (at least when I feel like it), at the first opportunity I decided to buy a record I didn't already know: the choice fell on Tri Repetae, in that it was the next step in the Autechre canon (EPs notwithstanding) and I knew it'd be a step closer to Confield. I wanted to see what the story went like, on its own terms, because the key to this whole ordeal was that I needed to let the record do the talking before I had an opinion on it. And Tri Repetae really did talk to me, because it was exactly what I expected: it had the more discernible elements of early Autechre but also, again, an edge. It's that edge for me: that's the point of interest I end up into, the sort of liminal in-fieri elements that all Autechre releases imply to an extent, and the fact that something as fundamentally ungraspable as C/Pach or Rsdio feeling like it got back home after a whole sleepless night out walking in the cold could coexist with a veritable banger like Eutow (still the one track from Tri Repetae that elicits the most powerful emotional/elated reactions from me) simply blew my mind. Dancing to Eutow in my room and immediately finding myself bobbing my head to, of course, C/Pach and then Gnit led to the next realization in a long series: after everything that's been said about them, the being a four-dimensional object, the being famously impenetrable to all but the most dedicated nerds, the truth about Autechre is that they are a band about rhythm.

I don't exactly expect anyone to be surprised by this, really, but the conscious realization that what I had read on Wikipedia in passing (that Sean and Rob actually met up in the '80s while in the tagging/hip-hop/electro scene in London) actually had bearing on the duo's production was the key to unlocking the rest of their music. Every single thing Autechre have ever done has a form of pulse in it and it takes movement for it to be fully tapped into. Some hacks have recommended listening to Autechre on headphones (deep cuts on YouTube, I see you!) but as for me, I recommend speakers, possibly big, possibly hi-fi, possibly equalized for techno/dance music, and I recommend listening to them with a lot of free space around you. The inherent exploration of space that dancing entails very easily translates into an exploration of the underlying structures in Autechre's (whatchamacallit) songwriting, and from there the rest follows. Even Incunabula, which I finally tackled in summer 2023 and appreciated for what it is: provided you can deal with outdated sound palettes, an excellent record that stands as a true high mark in the exploration of analog instrumentation possibilities, a true forward-looking and forward-pushing debut outing on whose shoulders all future Autechre releases stand, even the most radical.

But Autechre could never stand still and simply replicate Incunabula all over n billion times; that's simply not the cloth they're cut from, and if that was the case I'd be very hard-pressed to think they'd feel as relevant as they do with every subsequent release. That they could drop, in sequence, Exai, the whole five records of elseq and the NTS Sessions boxset and still elicit the electrified reactions they did, both positive and negative.

One of the first serious conversations about music that I had with my old band's bassist was about electronic music, which was actually somewhat foundational to my appreciation of this particular art form (I was a die-hard Daft Punk/Justice guy, Waters of Nazareth and Genesis were to me what Metallica or System of a Down to a number of other people I know: a show of force that made me conscious of the physical impact of sound on a human's body, not just pleasant vibrations to the ears). She told me - and I'm willing to bet that was an old idea that she has since discarded - that she really didn't feel like electronic music was alive, and with music being "life" to her that was a true oxymoron that rendered her incapable of objectively judging electronica. At the time I would have never showed her Autechre, if anything because I did not know them if not by name, but my current understanding of them makes them the most serious counterargument to that affirmation. Autechre's music doesn't try to measure up to the feel of live band jamming because it doesn't need to, despite it often being (according to Booth and Brown) the result of lengthy, additive improvisations that the duo trade back and forth. It simply takes a step sideways, making all analysis on those terms essentially unserviceable and useless. And if it wasn't as massively pretentious as it is, this shit simply wouldn't fly: any tension to a conventionally-imaginable sense of humanity would make it clear that the duo aren't into it really, and ironically it ends up feeling less believable; it starts breathing weird, it turns into a captatio benevolentiae to the listener. And Autechre is meant to challenge us, or rather it's meant to challenge me, and Sean Booth and Rob Brown.

Ironically enough, Autechre's records feel more and more rewarding the more you get familiar with them, and therefore it turns into its own peculiar brand of process music, so to speak. And it's a hell of a process, granted, but it definitely has something to say to you as a listener, if you're willing to give it a shot. Autechre's music is incomprehensible and useless, if you don't know what to make of it, but the only way to know what to make of it is engage in it and make up your own mind about it.

[hoghtastic]

“To the one anon going to Paris: I don't mean this in a bad way, but why do you want to see him at all? Why spend so much money on him? To get an autograph or a picture? A hug? I’m sure he is set up well financially but those conventions are nice extra money and he will invest his earnings in his future. Alex said in the interview that they "have" to move in together anyway. To me the interview means that he plans to have a child with her and get married, but especially the child. Why else would you „have to“. Reminds me of „then I have to find a wife and have kids“ in 2021. Johanne is not going anywhere for the next few years and it will only get worse. Personally, I find Johanne repulsive. But that feeling transfers to Alex for me too. Because he loves her. Means for me he must not be as great as I thought otherwise he wouldn't be with her. You know what I mean? Your partner is a mirror of you.”

Yep Johanne behaves like a repulsive egomaniac and gives off eerie vibes. She has venom dripping from her eyes many times when she interacts with people, and it’s scary. Her friend is also a repulsive fake creep and doesn’t look safe to be around to be quite around. If you guys wanna know why Alex likes them, to me the answer is simple. Watch his older “mockumentary” and just imagine that he’s not acting at all and watch the pre season 5 premiere with the Vikings cast and pay attention to how he behaves, he’s drinking and beside Marco and the interview is less structured so he is more comfortable being himself. Notice he’s not an outright asshole but he’s a bit rude and acts childish with the host, mocking him a few times and he is louder and bolder than the other cast members, and dare I say comes off as being obnoxious. This is a different image from the one he gives off when he is with fans and other interviews. I don’t think he is completely acting with his fans but he does hide a lot of his real self around them . And while I don’t think Alex is like them personality wise (those two are just plain awful) I think he is a bit douchey irl and thus finds this behaviour attractive. I think he thinks their behaviour makes them look cool, and he probably things she is a bad-ass for the things she does. This is something I noticed especially in this new generation, a lot of times narcissism and rude behaviour is seen as something to emulate. Celebrities who are assholes and display diva-like behaviour get called “savage” and often times people who emulate that type of behaviour aren’t necessarily bad people they just do it to look cool, I would say that is the case with Alex. Unfortunately, it means people who are genuinely bad people who are narcissistic and selfish get praised and people think they are cool. Alex himself called her cool when people were attacking her lol, so he clearly agrees.

PS: does anyone know who else apart from Fanny who is close to Alex that johanne follows but doesn’t follow her back? I noticed a few people mentioned a while back that some people close to him don’t follow her.

On another note, I wonder how Alex’s older friends would feel when they meet her. He has been hanging around of a lot of fake people lately and they probably don’t care enough to sniff through johannes BS.

Anon to anon, in response to this ask. 😊 Thank you for your input, I personally think you made a great point there, when you mentioned the glorification of certain kinds of behavior in today's world.

[concubuck]

Since you mentioned it, Ozzie/Alastor/Fizz (or just Alastor/Fizz, since you already did Ozzie/Alastor)

((First, Alastor/Fizz:

The low number of hearts makes me seem more lukewarm than I really am lmao. It's a ship I like, I just haven't explored it as much.

First off I think Alastor unironically enjoys clowns and thinks they're funny so jot that down.

Second, even though Fizz is playing sidekick, he's clearly JUST as into humiliating a paying customer via musical number as Ozzie is, which means he and Alastor would probably get along great on the sadism front.

Third, I think Alastor inherently respects and appreciates professional entertainers, whether or not he's into that kind of entertainment himself: singers, dancers, actors, porn stars, TV hosts... and clowns-turned-comedians who warm up the crowd at night clubs.

And fourth, Fizz is an imp—dead bottom of Hell's social ladder—who was just so good at being a clown that King Mammon's selling a successful line of robots in his likeness and King Asmodeus snapped him up as his opening act and secret boyfriend; and even though that obviously doesn't really raise his rank as an imp, celebrity does give him power he never could have had otherwise. In life, Alastor was a biracial man in Jim Crow Louisiana who gained fame and popularity by virtue of how entertaining he was on the radio (a medium, notably, where nobody could see his face, and where he spoke in an artificially-created accent that had been invented specifically to sound upper-class and well-educated). I wouldn't go so far as to say I think he'd empathize with Fizz, because I doubt empathy is Alastor's strong suit; but I feel like he'd see the parallels between their histories and respect Fizz a lot for coming from a place similar to Alastor's and finding the same way up the ladder. I doubt Fizz would be able to return any of those sentiments—I figure a sinner who's been in Hell for 80+ years probably has a better understanding of demonic hierarchies than a hellborn demon who's never lived in a ring with humans would have about human race relations—but they're at least there on Alastor's side.

And for Ozzie/Alastor/Fizz:

Basically just put together my Alastor/Ozzie thoughts and my Alastor/Fizz thoughts and throw in the fact that Ozzie/Fizz is already an established ship and it works. Ozzie & Fizz probably have a whole lot of people flinging themselves at them separately, but who are usually attracted them for more typical/expected reasons—because they're each independently sex icons and probably considered wildly sexy in Hell, because they're famous and/or powerful, because of what people think their personalities are like as a famous entertainer/celebrity and a powerful ruler, etc. But not many people are interested in both of them simultaneously—it's usually one or the other—and not many are going to list the top reasons they're interested as "because of your musical numbers, and because you're assholes to your guests and I think that would make you VERY funny to hang out with." Even better if it doesn't actually start at all as "attraction," and not even as an attempt to climb the social latter, but Alastor just thinks they seem like His Kind Of People (translation: the bitchiest theater kids in the high school).

They'd be that obnoxious power trio that shows up to every event fashionably late in sunglasses with expensive coffee, knows everything about who's sleeping with whom, and lets that info slip strategically to cause the maximum chaos and fighting.

Bonus: one of the hypothetical ideas for the succubus Alastor AU fic I've been kicking around is Alastor getting knocked up (surprise! that was on my wishlist for this AU from the very start), Ozzie going "well I guess I'm gonna say it's mine and name it heir to my throne" while Alastor's still highkey panicking, them going to get a paternity test, discovering the kid is actually Fizz's, and Ozzie gleefully going "well now I'm DEFINITELY saying it's mine and naming it heir to my throne."

Because, one, the only thing better than the thought of having a kid with one of his boyfriends is having a kid with BOTH of his boyfriends; and two, this is a man who openly praises a prince for ruining his marriage over a socially taboo affair and who thinks the sexiest thing imaginable is a literal clown. He would absolutely hold up this little baby that's clearly some kind of imp/succubus hybrid and say "Yep! This is definitely my kid! No doubt about it! I'm 100% naming it my heir!" and letting all of Hell think that he's got it so bad for a hot piece of succubus ass that he's willfully blinded himself to the fact that the succubus cucked him with his over-promoted second-in-command imp. Like, that's leading by example. That's showing his people how to embody the true spirit of lust. He will give Hell the impression that the royal court of Lust is some sort of broiling soap opera, even at the cost of a little of his own respectability, because it sets a good sinful precedent and because it'll be really, REALLY funny. All three of them are clowns. They'd find the media frenzy hilarious. They'd be fighting not to laugh the whole time.))

[madefate]

Blitz is fairly sure he's not making anything worse by rambling. It's always a bit of a gamble, talking to the point of distraction - he's alienated plenty of assholes with the trick, which is normally the point, but there's been the occasional backfire with the people he doesn't want to drive away. So he relaxes minutely when he glances over and realizes his little tangent has earned a brief moment of relaxation for Stolas amidst what's probably fucking agony.

If he's being honest, Blitz hasn't thought about pain in a while, and his thoughts haven't always been the - most generous on the subject. For so long, it had simply been a way of life - it's what you get when you put in hours of work from the most honest to the shittiest, the product of hours of cleaning a tent or selling half assed balloon animals next to an obnoxious singing robot or sneaking in and out of a noble's house as fast as your ten year old legs can carry you. Or shooting up some fuckheads on the surface.

Then came Loona. And Moxxie. And Millie. And suddenly those old instincts came back to shield them because maybe, fundamentally, he knew that he had it wrong. The point is, there was a version of Blitz that would have been irritated, furious, to see Stolas show the signs of the obvious pain he's in. The bigger point is, Blitz can't even fathom that kind of bitter, jealous rage, now because when he hears the hitch in Stolas' breathing, the only rage that comes is righteous, protective fury that wants to wipe the smug, fanged smile off that fucker's face. Permanently.

And then, under it, his hand itches to leave the steering wheel and hang onto Stolas and feel the warmth that means alive under his fingers. Blitz is aware that he's not the person you want around in your worst moments, but that has never stopped him from wanting to soothe the aches he finds.

Wrath could be beautiful, with its endless sky and red brushed desert, but Blitz would gladly set all this shit on fire if it'd get him out of here sooner. He can't punch the gas all the way down the way he'd prefer to, because there's a non zero chance he'd hit a rock or an uneven dirt packed texture on the road and he's not about to contribute to the whole excruciating agony thing.

Stolas' gratitude, soft and weak but so warm and genuine and typical of Stolas, makes Blitz want to curl into himself until only his spikes are visible. Fuck, it's water. It's just water and a shitty van ride after getting here too late and -

He stops breathing just for a damn second when Stolas finally responds, because, fuck, that is - it's not right. Can he even say it's completely unexpected ? Stolas is like that - like, sure, he can be an uptight fuss with a stick up his ass when he wants to be, all prim and proper and that lilting voice that likes to trill around Blitz's name like he likes saying it and - okay, whatever, but fuck, Stolas is kind. He's soft - and not in the way Blitz always thought soft meant weak. Bad. He's so ... emotive. Blitz can tell just by the puffing of his feathers or the sad, unrestrained bird calls Stolas makes what his mood is; so when he says that - it says so much more about Stolas and his generosity even in the worst fucking circumstances than anything about Blitz.

Fuck, maybe it even says worse about him - that Stolas feels the need to, what, comfort him? After he almost died because of him ?

He's quiet for a few, long moments, eyes narrowing under the crushing weight of what exactly he's brought into Stolas' life. ❝ - You don't have to do this. ❞ It comes out a little choked and maybe a little desperate too, raw with emotion and reeling without Blitz's usual armor of biting humor. ❝ Stolas ... fuck. ❞ He merges onto the main highway and tries to swallow the lump in his throat, because this is not a conversation that needs to happen right now, except for the fact that it does because didn't Striker just prove that even Goetia royalty can fall ?

❝ You're hurt. Badly. You can just - be pissed. You can feel whatever the hell you're actually feeling, it's fine. Striker wouldn't be on your ass if it wasn't for me. Crashing into your fucking life, taking your magic book, putting you in your wife's warpath - fuck, you can't even go out anymore without someone rubbing in your face how I ruined your goddamn life. You seriously want me to believe that I've brought anything good into your life outside of some monthly orgasms? Look at me. I'm gonna get you the help you need no matter what, so you don't have to play nice. Let it out! Chew me out, curse, complain, it doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere. Okay ? ❞

He realizes too late that his voice is trembling and he slams his eyes just for a second to stave off the burn. Fuck. His throat is aching like he swallowed the bad end of a knife, his claws twitch as his grip tightens.

❝ You can just worry about yourself. I'm going to keep you safe and you will be okay, so you don't - you don't need to think about me. ❞

So much had happened between them, and yet so much had been left unspoken, that Stolas wasn't sure if that could change, or if things were too far gone, at this point. He'd had feelings for Blitz, in one way or another, since they'd been little more than children. They had spent a single evening together, but that night had been burned into his memory, one of the only happy days he'd had before Via's birth.

All of it feels like too much right now, with everything else going on; he shouldn't be worried about this. He'd just been attacked, and he was currently bleeding into Blitz's seat; he should be focused on that, on what to do now…., but he's never been good at considering his own needs, not really.

But when Blitz says that he absolutely will use their connection to reschedule Loona's appointment, Stolas manages a smile for him, small though it is. If he could do anything to help Blitz, he wanted to, wanted to take care of him, even though he knew Blitz didn't need him, didn't want him to do anything of the sort.

And just like that, there's something almost normal between them again, and he lets out a soft, breathy laugh at Blitz' succinct takedown of Sloth's hospitals. "I doubt they've come across anyone as extraordinary as you, Blitz," he agrees. Because he was absolutely all of the things he'd just said about himself, and they should be grateful to be in his presence. Stolas certainly was.

He looks up as the light around them starts to shift, to get brighter, and then they're out of the cave, and into the sunlight. But he doesn't have the opportunity to wince at the sudden shift, because Blitz has pulled the visor down for him, to keep the light out of his eyes, and Stolas flashes him a grateful little smile and a soft 'thank you.'

The vehemence in Blitz's voice when he says that, no, he wouldn't be better off without him surprises Stolas, and he can feel a lump forming in his throat. His heart swells when Blitz tells him to shut up and start planning his summer vacation, that he's not going to let him give up, and that they were going to figure something out, research other meteor showers they could take Via to.

He gazes over at Blitz, such naked longing on his face, that he's certain he'll tease him for it…., but he can't help it. The picture Blitz paints sounds so…..so much like everything he's ever wanted. The idea of the two people he cared about most being with him, choosing to spend time with him…., it was a dream he wasn't sure would ever be fully realized.

Especially when Blitz seems to lock up at his question. Stolas saw that reaction, and he slumps down into the seat that much more, at least until Blitz drops a bottle of water into his lap. He blinks, but before he can say anything, Blitz has the cap loosened for him, commanding him to drink.

Stolas does as he's told, lifting the bottle to his mouth to take a few sips of the clear liquid, breath catching as he jars his injuries. But it does help to soothe his throat, which had been raw from screams and screeches.

Another long moment of silence stretches between them, and when Blitz finally speaks, Stolas just listens, hanging on his every word. Striker had already hurt Moxxie and Millie, and it seemed that Blitz didn't want him to get to anyone else he--but he cut himself off before he finished that sentence. Could it be that he truly did care about him? At least to some extent? Stolas barely dares to breathe, let alone hope that that's the case.

And as Blitz finishes speaking, asking Stolas to let him do this for him, saying that it wasn't enough, Stolas just blinks. He hated that he couldn't reach out for Blitz right now, to at least offer his hand, to reach for him, and hope he would let him touch him, comfort him.

"Blitz," he murmurs, and his voice is quiet for a different reason now. "You've always been more than enough. You don't have to do anything for me for that to be true." And then, something he'd been wanting to tell him for quite some time, but had never found the right time or the right words: "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Blitz. And I should have just told you that." It was definitely not the right time for this, but…., he couldn't bear the thought of Blitz thinking he wasn't enough.

[sacredsorceress]

Green || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)

a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky

masterlist || request || taglist

#1

“Nice of you guys to call me.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.

“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”

“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.

“You must be John Walker.” You said.

“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.

You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.

“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.

He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together. 

You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.

However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.

Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.

You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”

“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”

Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.

“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”

And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.

#2

“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.

“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”

Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.

“What?” He asked.

“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”

“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.

“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”

He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.

As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.

“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.

Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.

#3

Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.

“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”

When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.

“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”

Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.

“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”

After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.

“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”

Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.

“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Bucky said.

“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”

You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.

“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”

Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“What-”

“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.

“It’s really okay, Buck-”

“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”

You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.

“You good?” You asked.

Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.

“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”

Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.

#4

“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”

You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.

“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”

Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”

Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”

As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.

“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”

As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.

“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.

Sam nodded, laughing.

“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”

Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.

“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”

You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.

Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”

He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”

With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.

Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.

“What’s your problem?” You asked.

Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.

“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms. 

“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”

Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.

He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was   mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.

The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.

But you were never one to back down with him.

“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”

“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.

For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.

Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.

“Buck...”

“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.

“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”

Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”

[heliads]

I would love Derek Hale with prompt 10 please!

there are so many derek hale requests for this event. i mean i love it but i have to say i was not expecting it

masterlist

Derek Hale has gotten himself into trouble. Again.

He would like to point out that this isn’t entirely his fault, except for the fact that it kind of is. Derek was just trying to mind his own business as a werewolf in a town that strictly hates his type, and of course that was invitation enough for someone to try and kill him. Man, he’s sick of this. 

Derek briefly ponders the possibility of packing his bags and trying to move towns again, of starting a new life and watching it slide back to Beacon Hills again. Everyone tries to leave, everyone comes back. Maybe it’s the thrill of having to fight to survive day in and day out that makes a normal day feel worthless, like Derek is only truly living when he’s a few moments from death.

It’s dramatic, certainly, but not entirely wrong. Derek has plenty of time to consider his own strange fascination with death now that he’s so close to it. He had been heading to his apartment late one night when a pickup truck had pulled up alongside him. Derek had just enough time to see that it was packed with hunters like a clown car before one shot wolfsbane in his face. After that, he was unconscious, so there wasn’t a whole lot of time for free thinking.

Derek woke up about half an hour ago. His head is still reeling from the wolfsbane. That, and the fact that he’s trapped in some hunter’s dingy basement with his hands chained behind his back. It’s sweltering down here, one rusty fan trying to do the job of thousands. It creaks and whirs somewhere to Derek’s left. He’d almost rather embrace the sheer heat of the place rather than listen to it groan through its cycles for another few hours.

Of course, he’s being ridiculous. If he’s been kidnapped by hunters, Derek has a lot more pain about to come his way than just the irritation of an overly obnoxious ceiling fan. He can already see the instruments of his suffering laid out on a table to his right:  tasers, knives, pliers, and whatnot. He swears the hunters get special pleasure in just reminding him what could happen, all the torture he’s about to experience. All that, and then they go about their day jobs like normal men.

How is that fair, he wants to ask? How is it that these people can spend their nights shooting bows and arrows at teenage kids and young men who can’t seem to shake their own death wish? They can torture and maim like Bond villains, but the second Derek’s eyes start glowing, he’s the monster. It makes no sense, but that’s just the way things have always been. Around here, legacy is all you need to convince someone of the lines to draw.

A sound from across the room; someone coming down the stairs. They must have noticed that he’d woken up by now. This is where it begins, then. He lets his eyes flicker briefly shut, trying to remember what it’s like to stand still with no broken bones, no healing magic racing to sew him shut again.

A bucket of ice cold water splashes against his front. Derek blinks the frigid liquid from his eyes and glares balefully up at the hunter before him.

“I was already awake, you asshole.” He spits.

The hunter just chuckles. “I know. I wanted you to be ready for this.”

Derek grimaces inwardly. “That’s how it’s going to be, then?”

The hunter inclines his head. “You’re a monster, and that’s how we treat vermin around here. We stomp them out.”

“If you’re going to stomp me out,” Derek says cynically, “you might as well just shoot me through the chest and get this over with. You won’t believe a word I say, so just save both of us time.”

The hunter pretends to think about this. “I don’t think so. I won’t be robbed of my fun, not for a killer like you.”

Derek narrows his eyes. “I’m the killer? Out of curiosity, how many members of your family have I murdered in cold blood? Compare that with how much family I’ve lost, you don’t seem like so much of a saint anymore.”

“Shut up,” the hunter hisses, and throws a switch on the panel by his side. Instantly, Derek’s entire body spasms as dozens of volts worth of electricity arc throw him. 

Just as he’s sure he can’t take it anymore, the hunter turns off the shocks and Derek is allowed to hang limply once more, a faint sizzling the only sign that he’d been in such grievous pain. Yet another wonderful afternoon is ahead of him. Derek grits his jaw and readies himself to take it.

Despite his fears, however, Derek won’t be suffering for long. The hunter has barely gotten started before the door creaks open again. Both Derek and the hunter turn to stare quizzically at the door in unison. The hunter looks confused; clearly, he’s the only one who’s supposed to be down here right now.

He shouts out to the resounding quiet. “Who’s there?”

No answer. The hunter shrugs and turns back to Derek. The second his back is turned, Derek sees movement in the shadows, someone slipping away from the door and towards him. Derek can only hear their movements through his supernatural hearing. To someone like the human hunter, there would be nothing at all.

That’s why the mysterious assailant is able to sneak up on the hunter without them ever noticing. Derek sees a flicker of an arm raised, and then something heavy connects with the hunter’s head. The hunter groans in pain and rears around to face a young woman standing behind him. She greets him with a punch to the head, and judging by the snap of bone that ripples throughout the room, she’s broken his nose.

A few more hits and the hunter is done for the count. Derek whistles under his breath as the other man falls gracelessly to the ground, taking out a stack of folding chairs while he’s at it. Derek has no idea who this young woman is, but she’s clearly qualified. The hunters are good fighters, and the fact that she was able to take out this one so quickly is pretty impressive.

“Wow,” he whispers, “I don’t think I’ve ever admired someone more than I do right now.”

The young woman snorts. “What, I show up to stop you from getting tortured and it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen? You should really up your standards.”

She grins at him as she undoes his restraints. Derek rotates his wrists, trying to encourage at least a little circulation back into his screaming skin, and takes the advantage of these extra moments to try and get a better glimpse of his savior.

“Who are you?” He asks.

She glances up from where she’s tying up the hunter. “Y/N L/N.”

Derek frowns. “L/N. I’ve heard that name before.”

Y/N nods. “I’m a friend of Allison Argent. She and I go way back. When we found out our families were hunters, we defected together. Allison’s been like a younger sister to me for a while, I was glad to hear that she got out.”

Derek’s brow furrows. “So you’re a hunter?”

“Ex hunter,” she clarifies, “I had a conscience problem when it came down to killing random people all because they received the bite, so the family lifestyle didn’t really suit me anymore. I’m sure you can understand.”

“I definitely can,” Derek says, and is surprised to find himself smiling.

Y/N seems surprised as well. “You know, before I left they warned me that you were a total grouch. Looks like I don’t have that much to be worried about.”

Derek considers defending his right to be grouchy due to the prevalence of hunters in his hometown, but before he can aptly summon up the words, Y/N is gesturing towards the door.

“Come on, most of the hunters have left the house for the afternoon. If we leave now, we should be able to avoid them and get out of here.”

Getting out sounds like a fantastic plan to Derek, so he follows her without another word. They head out of the basement and up into the main floor of the house. From there, it’s a matter of navigating the twisting halls until they reach the door.

Derek and Y/N have a close call in which they almost stumble into a room filled with three hunters, but Derek hears their murmurs just soon enough to pull Y/N back before she walks inside. They wait for a second, pressed up against the wall, hearts pounding, before they judge the coast to be clear and head on.

Y/N’s car is parked around the block, and they drive back to Scott McCall’s house. Apparently there was a whole plan to break Derek out, which he has to admit he appreciates. He makes sure to thank Y/N once they get inside safely, something which surprises almost everyone there.

The rest of the pack is gathered inside, Lydia and Kira researching nearby packs while Scott and Stiles discuss further options for freeing Derek if today’s plot hadn’t worked. They all fall silent when Derek and Y/N walk inside.

Scott looks up with a grateful smile. “Glad to see you both. We were worried there would be more of an altercation, did everything go alright?”

Derek nods. “Y/N was great back there. She took out the hunter interrogating me in about thirty seconds.”

Stiles blinks doubtfully up at Derek. “Was that a compliment? Y/N, are you sure you actually grabbed Derek and not his more friendly identical twin?”

Derek flashes the boy a cold stare. “I am capable of being nice, Stiles. I just don’t want to do it to you.”

Y/N coughs to hide a laugh. “It all went well, don’t worry about that. Plus, we now know how to get in and out of that house if need be. All in all, a pretty successful venture.”

Scott nods. “That’s good to hear. I think we’re all free to go if we don’t have anything else to bring up.”

Derek takes that as his cue to head home. Y/N walks out with him, and they end up talking by her car for a while longer. Derek can’t say that he minds the extra chance to get to know her.

“So,” he says, “you’re Allison’s friend, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I would remember someone like you.”

Did he say that out loud? Derek is instantly hit by a very severe bout of regret, but it all washes away when Y/N beams at him.

“No, I’ve been mainly helping out on the sidelines,” she says, “Makes it easier to have a spy on the inside if no one really associates me with the rest of you.”

“You’re always welcome to drop by whenever you want,” Derek mentions as casually as he can, “We could definitely use your help in the future. It’s always good to have some reinforcements, you know? Stiles is definitely more of a talker than a fighter, so I’d be glad to have you on my side.”

Y/N laughs. “Stiles is certainly brains not brawn, although I think his sarcasm could be used as a weapon if he so desired. I’d love to be more active in your pack, though. You guys seem like a really good bunch.”

“So you liked what you saw?” Derek asks teasingly.

Y/N responds in the same form. “You could say that. Maybe I liked one of you more than the rest.”

Derek decides to take a risk. “If that’s true, maybe I could help you out with getting to know that someone. I can give you my number.”

“I think I’d like that quite a bit,” Y/N smiles, and rummages in her bag to grab her phone.

They talk for a while longer before Y/N gets in her car and leaves. Derek is left standing on the sidewalk, watching her drive away and wondering how he could possibly get so lucky.

teen wolf tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

[t4tmoreid]

gimme your favorite cm headcanons

i will celebrate you posting again like a kpop comeback

omg hiiii hehe ok honestly it's been a hot minute since i've thought about cm hcs but:

spencer is a cat dad to the most evil little asshole in the world <3 he's got this white and orange cat that he adopted when he was working on his first PhD cause he thought the company would be nice, and he named it something that's frankly stupid and annoying like Proton or Sagan or something, and this cat is like, objectively a little shit. like, he claws up the furniture, hides under the sofa to swat at spencer's feet when he walks by, pushes his glasses of the counter, eats pages out of any books spencer leaves around, etc etc. and spencer loves him dearly but he is just beefing with this little cat CONSTANTLY. like he's always showing up to work with scratches on his hands and arms, dramatically monologuing and whining about how this little shit has it out for him specifically and how he's quite literally the devil himself in cat form. but then the second someone else chimes in and is like "yeah your cat is kind of an asshole man" spencer's just like i'm sorry what did you say to me. watch your mouth dude that's my fucking cat and i love him more than anything. fuck you.

speaking of cats, hotch is like, a cat magnet for a reason none of them can quite grasp. like he's really more of a dog person, never been that much of a cat lover if he's being honest, but any time he's over at spencer's or emily's their cats just will not leave him alone. and because the universe has a sense of humour, hotch is pretty much the only person who spencer's cat will cuddle with. like the first time spencer has the team over to his place, he's barely gotten the words out to warn them to be careful around his little demon spawn before he turns around to see his cat up in hotch's lap, purring obnoxiously looking for pets. traitor.

derek teases spencer mercilessly for his nerdy glasses, but he literally has reading glasses himself, he's just so far into it at this point that he'd rather die than admit it. he gives himself headaches constantly because he refuses to wear them and give spencer the satisfaction.

emily and derek get like, really extremely competitive over video games. you'd think it would be penny cause she's really the gamer among them, but when mario kart or just dance comes out derek and emily become people that they're honestly not proud of. and like the trash talk that comes out is quite frankly bizarre, so penelope prefers to just sit back with her wine and watch them bicker and sabotage one another like bratty siblings.

derek is always making mixtapes for spencer <3 i know i have a post about this somewhere, but like at least once a week derek is carefully curating a new collection of songs to burn onto a cd that he says spencer just has to listen to - because you're so uncultured about music it's honestly unacceptable spence - it's not at all because he has a stupid little crush that he can't quite seem to kick and he has no idea how the hell he's supposed to approach that when it's his stupid, awkward, gangly, endlessly endearing close friend doctor reid, and music is like the one thing he can fall back on as a way to get his feelings out so he doesn't, like, explode.

can i say homophobic jj. LOL like will people get mad at me if i say that. anyway jj is the girl who brags about having gay friends and tags along to the gay bar with penny emily spencer and derek cause she doesn't want to be left out and then gets grossed out when a woman tries to flirt with her SORRY ok i'm sorry. god.

whenever things are especially busy at the unit (or worse than usual at home) hotch tends to stays really late. penelope knows this, and she also knows that when hotch holes away in his office pouring over paperwork for hours and hours after everyone else has long since gone home, he very rarely takes the time to remember to get something to eat. so penelope has taken to bringing in an extra serving of whatever she takes for lunch, whether it's an extra sandwich or a second tupperware container of leftover pasta, and before she heads home she always comes up with some excuse to give it to hotch. she tells him she went out to lunch with derek so she didn't end up needing it, or she was half asleep this morning when she'd packed it and she'd made a second sandwich without thinking, and honestly hotch you might as well take it cause if you don't it's just gonna go in the garbage anyway and it's not good to waste food, hotch, there are people who are starving. and he always concedes, eventually, and accepts her food. she always looks so pleased with herself, like she's pulled the wool over his eyes, and hotch's throat kinda feels tight with the knowledge that someone cares enough to make sure he eats when he stays late, and also penelope is like a really good cook, so there's that, too.

when spencer has his hair grown out longer he lets penelope use him as a model to teach derek how to braid. derek has tried to braid penelope's hair before, with little success, and it's so much easier to show him on somebody else, but no matter how much she'd begged emily had refused to give in, so spencer it was. and honestly spencer thinks it's kinda nice, the feeling of somebody's fingers playing with his hair. especially when they're penelopes fingers, which move gently and lightly and don't pull too hard, and he comes out of it with a pretty french braid that has pieces falling out in the front because if they're being totally honestly his hair isn't quite long enough for this yet. derek is sort of less gentle when it's his turn to try, more prone to accidentally pulling so hard it makes spencer's whole fucking scalp tingle, but it's still nice to be sitting cross legged on the floor between derek's knees with derek's hands in his hair, so spencer only complains a little bit.

penelope keeps one of those "word of the day" tearaway calendars on her desk, and every so often she throws some word like "mellifluous" into conversation out of nowhere and everybody is just like 😐

[silver-tongued-bby]

Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐴 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑛 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑇𝑜 𝑌𝑜𝑢 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content/Older Ateez but age differences is written withing legal boundaries.

Continuation to this reaction.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Peeking his eyes up from the test papers he was currently grading, Hongjoong glared as he saw how the student that had recently transferred was eyeing you up. He tried to look away but it truly disgusted him to see him stare down at your legs. His hand then clenched into a tight fist as you crossed one leg over the other, exposing more of your skin which the student did not shy away from gawking at, even tilting his head to see if he could get a glimpse of something else.

As if on cue to keep him from slamming his hands on the desk, the bell rang for all the students to go back to their dorms or other living spaces.

"Miss Y/N, could you please stay a moment?"

You smirked to yourself as it seemed your plan had worked. Putting on the most innocent face you could muster, you leaned your hands on the desk in front of your teacher, purposefully bending over so your cleavage could be seen by him.

"Yes Mr. Kim? Do you require my.... assistance?" You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Knowing what your little game was, Hongjoong slid off his chair and slowly walked to the other side of the desk. His hands went to your waist and moved you so you could face him. His bottom lip poked out while his hands went underneath your skirt to toy with the hem of your panties.

"Miss Y/N, I'm afraid these skirts of yours might prove to be too distracting for classes."

You nearly threw your head back and laughed loudly, but instead you opted for pulling your sexy teacher closer to you by his tie.

"For whom exactly? The other students.....or you?"

Hongjoong breathed in deeply when you swiped your tongue across his bottom lip.

"I would prefer it if they only distracted me." He admitted as he began sliding your panties down your legs.

You let out an amused hum as your hands began to rub across his chest, giving his nipples a little harsh tug through his button up shirt.

"Whatever happened to those words you said the other day? Remember? About not wanting to mess around anymore with the school's cum bucket?" You began prying his buttons open.

He swallowed hard as he began regretting calling you that, not knowing you didn't mind at all and instead used it to fuel your plan for revenge on him. Sighing softly, his hand cupped the back of your head.

"I don't want to hear anymore gossip or whisperings about anyone else fucking you ok? I don't even want to think about any other asshole getting their dick anywhere near here. Got it.?"

You giggled at his confession. Propping yourself up on the desk so he could fully tear your panties off you, you spread your legs out for him, letting him inhale your scent of arousal.

"Then why don't you claim it as your own? Right here, right now, on this desk?"

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Having been under a lot more stress than usual, Seonghwa was extremely irritable and often walked around with a scowl. It was starting to bother you honestly.

"If you don't want to be here, you can just leave you know." You spat out one day while you two were in bed.

Turning his face to you, he looked at you with a warning glare.

"Don't you talk to me in that tone missy."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him.

"Last time I checked this was my house, meaning I can talk to you however I want to." You reminded him.

Grunting angrily, Seonghwa sat up and began dressing himself. It kinda had you worried that he was going to leave you for good.

"You're leaving me?" You hid away your disappointment.

"Obviously. Why would I wanna stay here any longer with a slut like you?" He didn't actually mean those words and he instantly regretted spewing them out, but he was stubborn and prideful so he simply left you without another word.

You were fuming, enraged that he'd dare just walk out on you like that. You weren't going to let him leave so easily though. And if you had to take drastic measures to ensure he'd be back in your arms, so be it.

"Slut you say? You don't even know honey." You mused to yourself.

For the next few days Seonghwa moped around his home, sighing to himself. He'd often look over the walls that separated the two of you, wondering what you were doing and if you were thinking of him. One day while his wife was out, he sat quietly on his bed, glasses on as he read one of the many books he owned. He was disrupted by a loud pounding against the wall. The obnoxiously pornographic moans gave a huge clue as to what was going on.

"Oh fuck! Your cock feels sooo good."

He gritted his teeth as he heard your voice being mixed with another male's which didn't belong to him. He slammed his book close, outraged that you'd be fucking someone else so soon.

"Oh yes! Cum inside me!"

Punching the wall, Seonghwa got off the bed and stormed out the room, not wanting to hear anymore and waited by the front door to catch a glimpse of your new lover. When he finally did see him, he scoffed at the young lad, shaking his head furiously. As soon as he left, he went straight over to your place, letting himself in as he pressed you up against the wall.

"If I remember correctly, only I was allowed to cum inside that hole of yours right?"

His snarling against your ear was making you get turned on once more, your legs parting when he drove his knee up your crotch.

"After all you did promise to give me a baby....."

He grinned evilly as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

"And I'm holding you to your word."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

He knew......he knew that sometime, sooner or later his relationship with you had to end. Only he hoped it would be much later...much later. Yunho always blamed himself. He tried to remind himself over and over again that there was absolutely deep between you two. It was strictly a no strings attached relationship.

So why was he getting bothered by someone else coming in your life hoping to steal you away? After all, if either of you wanted to see other people, you had every right to.

"What's on your mind little one?" He asked you out of nowhere earlier that day as you poked at your food, hardly taking a bite out of anything even though it included some of your favorite dishes.

You shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. Scooting his chair closer to you, he lifted your face up so he could look at your eyes.

"Tell me." He urged you.

You still kept quiet though, afraid that if you said anything he'd be mad, hurt or anything of the sort. But Yunho only chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Go see that boy."

You were startled by his words, wondering how on earth he knew about it.

"Go on your little date with him. Who knows? Maybe you two will hit it off or something. Have a little fun."

Although he encouraged you enthusiastically, now he was sitting on the couch watching the hours go by. It was late, well not too late, but still late. He started thinking if perhaps you would spend the night with this new guy, but his mind quickly shut away all those thoughts. He hated admitting it, but it pained him to picture you in someone else's arms. He started cursing himself for allowing his heart to develop feelings for you when you probably didn't even think of him in that way.

Little did he know you were sulky at having him encourage you to see someone else like nothing, like he did not care about you. And although you had a nice date, the guy wasn't who you wanted. The person you wanted was waiting back home no doubt, so you made it back home early, hoping he was still there, which thankfully he was.

"Hey, had fun on your-"

You didn't let Yunho finish his sentence when you suddenly straddled his lap and began kissing him fervently. He could only groan as he pulled you closer to him.

"You know I'll still take care of you? You don't have to do this if you don't want to." He pulled back to remind you that, bracing himself for your answer.

"I know.....but do you know that what I want is you?" You finally admitted, shocking Yunho to the core.

He let out an involuntary smile as he realized his feelings were indeed reciprocated on your part. Stroking your hair in an affectionate way, he pulled you into another kiss.

"You're either really young and naive, or really dumb my little one." He teased you, squishing your cheeks together.

You frowned at his teasing, hating how he constantly reminded you of your age difference and used it to baby you.

"Shut up and make love to me already old man, that is if you can even get it up."

Yunho giggled at your snarky remark, flipping positions so he could pin you on the couch.

"Trust me my little one, with you around it's impossible to keep it down."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang was restless ever since you went on vacation. Since it was summer break and his daughter was spending time with her maternal grandmother, there was no need for you to stay with them for the time being and honestly, you deserved a nice break to enjoy yourself and go be the free, young spirit you were after spending months cooped up inside that mansion looking after an intelligent and adorably sardonic 8 year old.

His mind was no longer focused. He didn't have a lot of things to do and even the small tasks he had to do he found them too difficult. He couldn't stop thinking about you. His thoughts kept revolving back to you and the nights he spent by your side, either when he snuck inside your room or he brought you into his room while his wife was away. He was missing your body, missing you, missed talking to you as he caressed your body after a passionate night of love making.

He was in the middle of those thoughts when his trusted butler came in, the sly smile on his face signaling he had useful information.

"Well? How is she? Is she all right?" Yeosang asked, having had his butler go stalk you out and report back to him on how you were.

"Oh you'll find Miss Y/N is in good health and.... in very good hands." He let out a muffled chuckle as he placed a folder in front of his master, containing photos and all sorts of information he deemed useful and interesting enough for Yeosang to know.

Not exactly liking the taunting tone the man used, Yeosang poured over the folder's contents, his eyes narrowing in on the rather attractive young man who seemed to be on almost every picture with you. You seemed to be having a lot of fun with him given that you were going out clubbing with him always by you, his arms always draped around you. Or you'd be seeing taking walks with him, his stance too close to you for Yeosang's liking. His nose twitched in disgust and he began tearing up any photo with the young man in it.

"Get the car ready and your swimming trunks in a luggage. We're going on a little trip." Yeosang smiled passive aggressively.

"I take it Madame must not know of this?" The old man raised a curious eyebrow.

"Exactly. Precisely." Yeosang chuckled, the two partners sharing a knowing and mischievous look.

After a long night at a beach party and too many margaritas, you dragged your feet to your hotel room, nearly stumbling in due to how tipsy you were but you were caught by strong arms that you had recently been missing.

"Mr. Kang.." You immediately sobered up as you stared at his handsome face.

"Remember what we agreed on? That I want you to drop the formalities?"

You giggled as he began pressing soft kisses on your lips, one after another.

"Go on. Say it."

Giving in, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Yeosang."

Sighing contentedly, Yeosang held you for a while, just enjoying your warmth as he inhaled your scent that he missed. But he soon grimaced when he detected a strange odor on you.

"You reek like him." He huffed out, clearly annoyed at smelling another man on you.

"Is that the reason you came all the way out here?" You snorted, yet flattered to know he cared that much.

You squealed as he picked you up and carried you to the bed.

"Just don't talk and let's get rid of that disgusting stench. I don't want you smelling like anyone else but me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San glared for the hundredth time at the classmate who lately had been irritating him to no end by coming over just to go see you at work. He rolled his eyes as he heard the airhead dick say how he didn't understand a certain assignment just to have you bend over and pour over the information with him. You were too nice to say no.

"And too dumb to notice he's only paying attention to your chest." He let out a disgruntled sigh as he organized the books on the shelf for the 7th time, not wanting to move from his spot in case the little shithead decided to try anything on you.

Wanting him to go away, he sneakily crept up behind the counter and sneakily brushed his hand across your ass, fingertips slightly ruffling the hem of your skirt.

"Y/N if you're done with your little tutoring session, I need you to help me look over the accounting ok?"

You nodded, realizing you had wasted enough of your boss's time. Giving your classmate an apologetic smile, you told him you'd help him some other time. Although saddened by not spending more time with you, he did not want you to lose your job or get you in trouble.

"You truly are an angel Y/N. What would I ever do without you?" He pouted at you, trying to look as cute as possible.

"I'm sure your hand has kept you company quite nicely all these years, you'll be fine." San couldn't help but smirk as he said that loud enough for both of you to hear, shocking you and embarrassing your classmate, who quickly walked out of the book shop with his head lowered.

Not very happy with his little joke, you looked over at your boss who had his back turned to you as his eyes stared at the computer screen.

"That was rather rude and disrespectful don't you think?" You shook your head at him.

"Not as rude and disrespectful as annoying someone at their job with lame excuses just so they can get a peek at a nipple or an ass cheek." He replied nonchalantly, unbothered and unrepentant of his behavior.

You let out a sarcastic laugh.

"That's a bit rich coming from you don't you think? Given all the times you've stared at me when I've bent down or stood on top of the stool." You reminded him.

Turning his head to look at you, San smiled at you with such a deceivingly sweet smile, accentuating his cute dimples that never failed to make you melt.

"See here now my young apprentice, if I remember correctly, you would purposefully bend over just for me, you were begging me to check you out, even started cutting the length of these skirts so I'd look at your legs."

Humming softly, your hands went to his collared shirt, undoing the top buttons to expose the top of his chest.

"Guilty as charged then Boss..... so... are you gonna write me up or cut my pay for slacking off at work yet again?" You taunted him as you brushed your lips against his.

Playing along with your little game, San chuckled and gripped your waist.

"Oh no my little apprentice. I'm not that type of boss. I prefer a different punishment."

You let out a gasp as he suddenly turned you around and pressed your upper body down against the glass case, his foot separating your legs apart as he fumbled with his belt.

"I'm gonna bend you over and fuck that pretty ass of yours til it's stretched open."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

You were starting to get pissed off at the thought of Mingi blowing you off on yet another date. It was the third time he had done it and you were starting to get fed up honestly.

"For someone who claims to be responsible and mature he sure can't seem to freaking keep his word." She muttered angrily to yourself as you swirled the leftover ice in your drink.

Out of nowhere, a young stud slid onto the seat right in front of you. With two drinks in hand, he slid one of them across to you. You eyed the drink suspiciously, wondering if he was one of those types to add some kind of drug just so he could easily kidnap you or something.

"Relax doll face, I promise I didn't spike it or anything." He assured you.

Shrugging and realizing you had nothing to loose, you instantly downed the drink with ease. You tried not to grimace at the fruity beverage the stranger got you.

"What does he take me for? A little pussy that drinks bitch beers?" You thought to yourself, though you couldn't blame him. You were pretty young and most mistook your youth for inexperience or naivety. Little did they know you could down the hardest of liquors down as if it was water.

"Tell me doll face, why are you here all alone? Looking all moody and dejected?"

You pondered on whether you should really say anything or make up something. Neither it seems. You opted for a more vague explanation.

"Just tired of being stood up I guess. No biggie." You rolled your shoulders back.

The man looked at you with a sad and pitiful look. He began to wonder why would anyone stand up such a beautiful and gorgeous woman like yourself? Whoever they were, they were either stupid or blind.

"Well the night is still young. Why don't you come back with me to my place and have a little fun? No strings attached and I can promise you you'll be more than satisfied." He offered, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

You looked him up and down. Truthfully you'd turn him down merely for being so close to your age, still not very attracted to younger males, given that they promised more than they could offer. But sizing him up, he seemed to be well endowed, definitely above average. And besides you were frustrated by Mingi blowing you off that it wouldn't hurt to have a little rendezvous with someone else.

Sensing your hesitation, he smirked and began pulling your chair closer to him, his hand slithering its way up your skirt.

"Trust me doll face. You have nothing to worry about."

"No but you will if you don't take off your filthy hands off her right now."

You were startled yet amused when Mingi popped out of nowhere and pushed the guy's hand off you before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

"Come on let's go. We're leaving." He gave you no choice as he began dragging you away, only to be stopped by the young man as he stepped in front of you two.

"Hold on here, you can't just haul her away like that. What are you? Her dad?" He scoffed, arms crossed as he looked Mingi up and down with disdain.

Instead of getting offended, Mingi simply smirked as he slipped his hand around your waist, pressing your body against his.

"Yeah, I'm her daddy, at least that's what she calls me at night."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung's eyes pierced daggers into the man that was currently talking to you. He had seen him countless times at the strip club where you used to work. He knew the man had more than just a crush on you, he was practically obsessed with you. More than once he had tried to get a private show from you but Wooyoung always made sure those plans were thwarted since he didn't want anyone else looking let alone touching his prized possession. Hence why he took you out of there and kept you all to himself.

And now he was fuming at this crazed fan of yours wanting to get close to you once more, no doubt trying to get in your pants. He saw how he kept leaning close to you or stepping up to you. Each time he did, you would step away, slightly uncomfortable by his close proximity and even more uncomfortable at how he talked with so much detail about your previous performances at the club, detailing things that not even you remembered.

"You know I don't even go there anymore. It's a waste of time." He admitted, a frown on his face.

"Oh really?." You asked, trying hard to hide your sarcasm, not really interested in anything he had to say.

"Yeah, you're not there anymore so what's the point? Although...."

You froze in place when his hands came up to cup your chin.

"I would give anything to see you strip one last time." He winked at you.

His hand was harshly pulled away from you by Wooyoung, who shoved him so hardly he actually landed on the floor.

"Too bad you're never going to see that ever again you punk."

Linking your arm with his, Wooyoung dragged you back to the car where he then drove full speed back to your apartment. As soon as you both stepped inside, his hands were all over you, mouth devouring your own as a trail of clothes leading into your bedroom was scattered on the hallway. You had never seen Wooyoung jealous before and it turned you on so much. His possessiveness was even more evident as his nails dug into your skin, his hips slamming into your ass as his cock plunged deep inside you, threatening to pull another orgasm out of your body.

"You're my little whore, no one else's."

You let out a yelp when his hand came down to strike one of your already burning cheeks once more, his hand printed all over your ass.

"My little fuck toy that I can play with as I want." He growled, pistoning his cock even deeper in you.

"Ah! Yes! I'm your toy Wooyoung!" You cried out, breathing heavily and whimpering loudly as tears streaked down your cheeks, your vision starting to go blank once more as you felt yourself ready to burst once more around Wooyoung's cock.

"Fuck! Yeah. My little fuck toy. All mine and no one else's."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho fought hard not to scoff or roll his eyes at the man sitting across from both you and him. He was a nice young man that recently started working for your father, very responsible and efficient. And your father liked him so much he took it upon himself to have the two of you meet up in with hopes of getting you two together. The man of course was elated by you. You were so pretty and charming and was already head over heels for you.

Jongho and you were not very happy about it though, Jongho more displeased than you. At least you could mask your dislike of him better, being all smiles and kind to him. It honestly sickened Jongho seeking you be all fake, proper and polite when he knew better than anyone your true character.

"Sweetheart, you know this young man was the one who suggested we strike that deal with that other company? And his plan worked out brilliantly." Your father couldn't stop gloating about the man's accomplishments.

"Oh really? Do tell me all about it." You feigned interest.

"Oh my fucking god, I swear to hell-" Jongho fought back the urge to slam his fork against his plate, not wanting to listen to another boring and excruciatingly painful gloating from the idiot in front of them.

Minutes into the story and Jongho was already dozing off, bored to death by the incessant chatter coming from the man across you both. Looking over at you, he could tell you were bored too. A wicked plan came to his head. But you were both bored so why not make it fun. You at first thought nothing about having him press a hand on your thigh under the table, he'd often do that every now and then. But you started to worry when he began to travel his hand further up to cup your clothed heat. It was such a risky thing to do at the dinner table, with your parents and a guest right there. You tried to stop him when he tried to tug your underwear down, but were met by a pinch against your inner thigh. You covered your mouth with your napkin and pretended to cough in order to hide the squeak that escaped you. Giving in, you slightly lifted yourself off your chair and let Jongho slide your panties down.

He pretended to drop his phone just so he could stoop down and pick up your panties off the floor. You watched as he stuffed them in his pocket, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. Suddenly you felt your phone vibrate in your purse. Glancing briefly, you saw a text from none other than your secret lover right next to you.

"After dinner. My place. You're lucky you're off for the next few days cause I'll make sure you won't be able to walk after I'm done with you."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[binxyu]

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

[hey-hamlet]

Can we hear more about some of your SVSSS AUs? I’m particularly curious about how the linked souls/dreams one would play out, but they’re all intriguing!

YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE PERSON I LOVE YOU

AHeM-

YES YOU MAY

OK SO! Linked Souls! Sickly!Shen Yuan because im projecting a little bit, hes also around 4 years younger than Shen Jiu. When Shen Jiu turns four years old, he starts having hazy dreams of a soft, warm bed, a full stomach, but constant fevers and aches. He feels bitter - not even his dreams let him really enjoy anything. Its quiet and mostly formless until Shen Yuan learns to talk - they gain the ability to talk to eachother, like riding passenger in a car, able to talk and watch but not interact. Shen Jiu learns to read better than any of the other slaves, and teaches Yue Qi everything he learns.

 He tells Yue Qi about Shen Yuan, and Yue Qi believes him because he’d always believe his Xiao Jiu. Shen Yuan likes his Qi-ge a lot, and likes him even more when he sneaks Shen Jiu sweets ‘for a-yuan to taste’

When Shen Jiu turns 11, he’s taken by the Qius. He feels scared and guilty, because Shen Yuan will feel this too, no matter that the little brat didn’t deserve it. He was still too soft and naive, this might break him. He begs Shen Yuan to find a way to leave, but he refuses to leave his ‘big brother’ all alone.

3 years pass, Yue Qi never comes back. Shen Yuan gets sicker and sicker, and Shen Jiu fears that one of them will die before the year’s end - either from sickness or Qiu Jianluo. Qiu Jianluo tries to touch Shen Jiu one night and he snaps, killing the man and everyone in his way on the path out. He might have grit his teeth and borne it if he was alone, but he’s not letting Shen Yuan get hurt like that.  

Shen Jiu doesn’t go with Wu Yanzi after Shen Yuan begs him not to - the man is scum, and while Shen Jiu might be scum himself, Shen Yuan is soft and sweet, he doesn’t deserve to see a man so vile. Cultivating from manuals he steals from people who are likely scammers, he ends up at the immortal alliance conferance. Shen Yuan convinces him to enter - hes too tricky to get himself killed by any of the monsters, and placing anywhere better than the last dregs will be impressive for a 15 year old rouge cultivator.

Wu Yanzi is back! And hes trying to murder Yue Qi, who caught sight of Shen Jiu and froze like a deer in the headlights. Shen Jiu runs him through with a sword he stole from some asshole a few months back and then cries all over Yue Qi’s robes, and then has a very repressed panic attack about getting blood and tears on robes that cost more than his life. 

Yue Qi is also crying! Shen Yuan has no control over Shen Jiu’s eyes but by the way he’s babbling he’s probably also crying! Everyone is crying! 

Yue Qi brings Shen Jiu before his master a bit like a cat presenting a dead bird and Shen Jiu wants to die in a hole a little bit because he’s scruffy and bloody and everyone around him look like peerless immortals. He covers this up by acting as much like a pampered young lord as humanly possible. Shen Yuan is cheering him on internally. 

Shen Jiu is snapped up the the Qing Jing peak master because he’s obnoxiously intelligent and knows a truely frightening amount of characters and some really impressive maths, esspecially considering his lack of formal education (Shen Yuan, internally “Yes Jiu-ge I know, I’m amazing and the light of your life and you’re so grateful to watch my miserable homeschooling lessons”)

Yue Qi explains nothing about why he didn’t come back because! Thats just what the man is like. Shen Jiu is less furious about it and more depressed because having a perminant Shen Yuan in your head helps you develop slightly less violent coping mechanisms. Plus, Shen Yuan can’t hold a grudge to save his life and Shen Jiu uses the fact Shen Yuan missed him as a reason to visit. 

Yue Qi sticks his foot in his mouth a little less. 

Liu Qingge hates Shen Jiu On Sight as usual, and is still convinced hes a murderous little noble snake. Shen Yuan is furious, and Shen Jiu has to fight the urge to laugh at the creative streams of insults he gets running. 

Shen Yuan gets well enough to attend high school in person. He doesn’t really make any friends, but hes not lonely considering the other Shen who, while not there constantly, is basically always there by the time his first lessons start. The running commentry makes it less dull anyway. 

He graduates, applies to university. Shen Jiu becomes head disiple. Shen Yuan finishes his first year of a teaching degree before his illness relapses hard. He gets through another year of part time study before he dies. 

Something in Shen Jiu, now Shen Qingqiu, Peak Lord of Qing Jing, dies with him. His students liken him to a ghost, dressed in mourning white, rising late and sleeping early, but often seen wandering the peak in the dead of night. Yue Qingyuan visits often, but Shen Qingqiu says nothing. 

Liu Qingge, angry at what he assumes is a fit of drama crashes onto the peak in a self rightious rage, challenging Shen Qingqiu to a duel. Thats the only time he ever loses a duel to him. The Yue Qingyuan has to pull them apart, Shen Qingqiu still snarling with rage. 

The news that he deviates that night shocks no one. Yue Qingyuan is frigid with Liu Qingge, and it unnerves the other peak lords. 

Shen Qingqiu has barely recovered from one of the worst Qi deviations he’s ever had when a disiple all but crashes through his door, scared shitless of the half dead looking man who stumbled through the peak’s barriers like so much air. 

Shen Qingqiu doesnt dare hope - Shen Yuan is dead, and a world away at that - but wouldn’t his soul be allowed to pass through the barrier? Shen Qingqiu had never had a problem when they shared bodies.

The man (barely a man, he would be 21 if he hadn’t been dead for 3 months) looks truly awful, feverish and flushed, but Shen Qingqiu know’s that face better than he know’s his own. 

“A-Yuan?”