#he really went through the whole range of emotion though
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flysafepapi · 6 months ago
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i don't know if the writers intended to make it as hilarious as I found it
but Daemon showing up at Harrenhal ready for a fight and not finding one was so funny to me, he looked so disappointed when Simon and the others immediately surrendered, and his attempt at starting one by accusing them of poisoning his peas was comedy gold
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bokunoheros · 2 months ago
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TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab (keigo does talk ab making you a mommy tho, and you refer to yourself as his girlfriend once), reader is a civilian, this is pre-war, reader and keigo are dating, no lube no protection (all night all day), baby trapping lowk????, idk he nonconsensually cums in you and then proposes (you accept tho), creampies, cockwarming, kinda lazy ending?? idgaf GENRE: smut SUMMARY: it’s the start of mating season and keigo had just saved a mother and her child at work today, so it’s only natural for him to come home with the overwhelming need to knock you up. WORD COUNT: 2.6K 🦊’s A/N: keigo they could Never make me hate you…. anyway hope yall enjoy this fr
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     not only was today the first day of his rut, meaning his last day of hero work until the spring was over, but he had also gone out of his way to save a mother and her crying child while off-duty. he’d been heading home after an eventful and tiring patrol when he ran into them being threatened by a petty mugger—nothing he couldn’t handle, especially after the day he’d had, but he can imagine having a gun pointed to your face must be scary to an untrained civilian. now, he was brimming over with emotions, barely keeping his cool as he walks through the threshold of your shared home, slamming the door loudly behind him, wings all puffed up and ruffled.
     “keigo? honey, what’s wron—” you’re suddenly cut off by a small flurry of his feathers sweeping you off your feet and carrying you from the kitchen towards where he stood in the living room, in the process of stepping out of his boots and shrugging his jacket off. you’re immediately taken aback by his serious demeanor and you open your mouth to say something, except that no words come out. what should you say?
     “how was your day..?” you ask tentatively after a brief moment of silence. 
     rather than verbally answering you, he lets out a long, drawn out sigh and shakes his head — a response you’re unfamiliar with. usually, he isn’t afraid to yap for at least fifteen minutes about how his day went, what happened, and sometimes even the people or fellow pros he talked to! so for him to remain silent…. well, it’s safe to say you’re starting to get worried. 
     had you done something wrong? was today exceptionally challenging? your heart rate increases as your anxious thoughts swirl around in your foggy mind, and you don’t know where to go from here.
     keigo knew what to do, though; he knew exactly how to relieve this stress.
     taking a step in your direction, he narrows his eyes, intense, predatory gaze locked onto yours, and suddenly, he’s leaning in for a kiss as he backs you up against the nearest wall. 
     the way he kisses you is controlled and barely put together, and you can tell he’s on edge, like he’s about to snap, so you say what you think he needs to hear.
     “you can rough me up a bit, kei, i promise i won’t break.”
     his eyes fly open at your words before narrowing as he nods before leaning back in with much more passion and any restraint right out the window. but he himself has said it before, he’s awful—he has no self-control; something that rang especially true when it came to you. 
     he’s spent whole evenings with his head buried between your thighs, eating you out until you’re crying and begging him to stop, saying it hurts, it hurts!, to which he always asks you for just one more. “one more” never meant one more, of course—keigo was greedy in this sense. he could never seem to get enough of you, always wanting more, more, more. if he could, he’d devour you whole, make you his entirely, and—that’s exactly what he was going to do tonight. he had been planning to propose for a while now, anyway. he had a ring and everything! he’d.. just been working up the courage to ask. so, then what better way than by deciding to knock you up on a whim. 
     well, …was it really a whim if he had fantasized about it before? the two of you had been dating since the summer of last year, meaning you haven’t seen him during his ruts yet, and, while he’s mentioned it briefly in the past, he didn’t actually expect to last this long with you so he never divulged the details of it—not because he wasn’t in love with you, but because he gave up on the dating scene because he’s always the one being dumped for being so. so. !!!! outwardly nonchalant about most things! or being married to his work, whatever they meant by that; he only worked so hard so he could have a future to relax in! no one ever seemed to understand that…. until he met you.
     something just clicked between the two of you upon your first meeting—you were probably the most interesting person hawks had ever saved, be it your quirk, your personality and mannerisms, or even something as simple as a remark you had made in the five something minutes it took to save you; he found himself unable to get you out of his head for days afterwards, eventually causing him to seek you out to ask a bewildered you on a date—just one, he had originally said.  
     you said yes immediately for a multitude of reasons—he was fine as fuck, he’d literally saved your life the other day, not to mention he was witty, and spoke his mind, too—something keigo hadn’t been expecting. he knew all of the above things, and yet, found himself somewhat nervous as he handed you a bouquet of pale red carnations, red camellias, and baby’s breath. he’d stayed up all night researching flower language and symbolism, deciding on the perfect ones to give to you, as he knew it was rude to show up to somebody’s house empty-handed, and, also, because… he’d never really felt this way about anyone before. there was something so magnetic between the two of you….
     but that’s enough reminiscing—he needs to be in the present moment, needs to focus on fucking you so good you go braindead on his dick, focus on cumming so deep in you, there’s no way you couldn’t not be pregnant with his child. keigo understood that having children as the number two pro hero would be no easy feat, but he thinks with you by his side, he can do anything. 
     sliding his tongue over the seam of your lips, one gloved hand comes up to squish your cheeks enough to force your lips to part for him and he easily slips the wet muscle into your mouth, taking his time sliding it along the insides of your cheeks, the grooves of your teeth, and the roof of your mouth, carefully exploring every inch and committing it to memory (as if he hadn’t already). 
     meanwhile, his other hand settles on your hip, massaging it lightly for a moment before his grip quickly tightens and he’s coaxing your tongue out of your mouth and into his as he begins to suck on it.
     “mmh,” you hum pleasantly, starting to drool as you let keigo decide how to use you in order to relieve his stress. 
     “missed ya t’day, dove,” he murmurs against your lips before nipping at your tongue and you feel your heart flutter. what had gotten into him? you weren’t necessarily complaining, but you still felt a little worried about him if you were being totally honest.
     keigo, sensing your unease, slowly pulls away from the kiss to ask if something was wrong, just for you to deflect the question back onto him. 
     “‘m fine, it was just a long day is all,” he tells you in earnest, leaving out the part about the beginning of his rut. “need’a feel you s’bad, though,” he breathes out, moving to kiss you again; tilting his head, he slots his lips back over yours, and it feels like he’s going to eat you alive. and, truthfully, he just might.
     before you even realize what he’s doing, he’s picking you up, wrapping your legs around his narrow waist, and carrying you into the bedroom where he’s pinning you to the mattress, wings spread wide for you to admire as you look up at him. you’re sure his words held a bit of truth to them, but he was behaving a little oddly for reasons you couldn’t put together yet. 
     him being a horny little shit wasn’t the unusual bit, but rather, his upbeat demeanor was nowhere to be found—even if it was an act almost all the time, it still felt weird to see him so serious looking.
     “kei…”
     “shh, stop worrying, sweets,” he shushes you, leaning in for another hungry kiss. you oblige him of course, parting your lips and poking your tongue out to meet his as you close your eyes
     his large wings create an almost dome around the two of you, shutting out the world, only leaving room for the two of you, and not another soul. 
     perhaps it would be best to sit back, relax, and let your boyfriend play with you… so that’s exactly what you do, settling fully onto the soft bed and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in closer—something that had him smirking against your soft lips. 
     it’s not long before you’re both naked, having grown too hot for the unnecessary layers separating your bare bodies, and soon, you suddenly have a pillow tucked under your hips, keeping them at an angle—something that confuses you.
     “keigo?”
     “just relax, dove.”
     he leans in closer, bringing his lips to yours as his one hand grasps at your hip, blunt nails (that he has to trim daily, mind you, lest they grow into talons) digging into the tender flesh there while his other grabs at his leaky cock, tapping it against your clit a couple times before lining it up with your slit and slowly pushing in, doing his best to show restraint and not bottom out in one fluid motion. you both groan at the feeling, the stretch so deep you almost feel nauseous.
     bringing two fingers down to your pulsing clit, he rubs semi-rough circles against the little bud, trying his hardest not to overwhelm you, but needing to hurry up and get you off so he can stuff you full of his cum.
     “mmmh,” you moan quietly as he focuses on working you up to your first orgasm out of many for the long night he had planned for you.
     it’s not long before you’re cumming with a cry and suddenly, keigo’s got his dick lined up with your slick little hole, easing himself in as he bites his bottom lip, trying not to whimper. 
     “fuuuck, you’re so tight, sweets,” he groans, rocking his hips into your, unkempt pubes brushing against your neatly trimmed ones. 
     your hands come up to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, before you’re tugging at his wings, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.
     “don’t,” is all he’s able to get out, burying his face in the crook of your neck, where he begins sucking and biting at the skin there. 
     “why not?” you grin like an idiot, already knowing the answer. you knew damn well just how sensitive keigo’s wings were—already having had this discussion when you first started having sex and you went to grab at them for the first time.
     “don’t ask stupid questions when you know the answer, dove,” he warns.
     you, ever the brat, decide to start stroking on his wings, and you feel his hips stutter and teeth sink into the column of your throat. 
     “nngh–!” you whine, tugging on the bright red feathers. keigo moans loudly at this, and quickly grabs the backs of your thighs to fold you in half and start fuckin’ pounding into you—his thrusts are fast and sloppy, and the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin turns you on even more, pussy drooling around his dick.
     it doesn’t take long before keigo’s cumming deep inside you without warning, something that has your eyes flying open. 
     “k–keigo–! y– you just— you..!” the words aren’t there as panic begins to settle in. something you had both agreed on before you started fucking was that even if you did it raw, he had to pull out—kids were a big no for the both of you.
     but here was your boyfriend, fucking you throughout his orgasm and working his way up to a second as he looks down at you with a gaze so intense, you feel small beneath him. 
     tugging at his wings again, you cry out his name as he fucks his cum into you, just for him to ignore your pathetic mewls and pleas.
     “k– kei—!”
     “gonna knock y’up so good—g’nna— fuck— g’nna make you a mommy—”
     your face flushes deeply at his words—is this what had gotten into him? the urge to breed you? knock you up?
     “f–fuck!” you pull at his wings, rolling your hips upwards as best you can as he desperately ruts into you. this triggers keigo’s second orgasm, his pelvis pressing flush against yours as he cums hard. 
     “nngh—! hnnmg—fuck,” keigo moans as his hips still while he spills another load deep within you. “shit— y’feel so fuckin’ good, baby—” 
     this continues for what seems like ever, but in reality is maybe fifteen minutes of your boyfriend fucking into you until he physically can’t cum anymore, until tears are running down his cheeks from how overstimulated he is, and he’s collapsing on top of you with a tired sigh.
     “k–keigo— we— we can’t—” can’t what? “‘m gonna get pregnant— y’gotta let me get up,” you try to say, shoving at his chest; but it was no use, he was dead weight. 
     “good,” he says breathlessly, nuzzling his face into your neck. 
     “n–no! not good! i— we’re only dating! what would the media think if they found out the number two pro hero went and knocked his girlfriend up?!” your concern is genuine, but also stems from selfish reasons. you’re sure the reporters would hound you the moment they caught a whiff of something fishy, and—
     “then marry me.” his words are so serious sounding that they immediately break you out of your own mind and your eyes go wide with shock and awe. had he seriously just. proposed?! while still being balls deep in you!? 
     “huh!?” you sound just as caught off guard as you look, and keigo cranes his neck up to look at you, expression the most serious you’d ever seen it. …okay, so he obviously wasn’t joking around, but, but–!
     “you heard me. …i’d been meaning to get you a ring for a little while now, but couldn’t find one i thought you might like, so…..” his cheeks are flushed and face sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead as he gazes at you so tenderly, your heart can’t help but feel full.
     “i— keigo, i…” he waits patiently as you fumble with your words. “yes,” finally falls from your lips, a grin tugging at the corners of them.
      unable to say anything else, you cup his cheeks with both hands and press kisses all over his handsome face before you slot your lips over his and lean in slowly, almost teasingly.
     keigo, ever impatient, leans in to close the gap, one large hand coming to cradle the back of your head as his hips twitch and he pushes further into you, causing the disgusting amount of cum stuffed in your cunt to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and drip down to your puckered asshole. after that, it doesn’t take much longer for keigo to fuck you both to sleep.
     and that’s how you found yourself in the exact same position one year later, having put your first child to bed no less than an hour ago, with your now husband pinning you to your shared mattress, talking about how he wants a second kid—how beautiful you looked pregnant the first time, and how he’d love to see you like that again. so, he makes it happen. and then one more time after that.
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return to KINKTOBER | PRO HERO M.LIST
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mononijikayu · 3 months ago
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why are you obsessed with me? — ryomen sukuna.
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"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam. “Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through. Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.  You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.
GENRE: alternate universe - modern singers au!
WARNING/S: romance, fluff, secretly dating, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, elaborate roleplay, making out, smut, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, teasing, flirting, playfulness, dancing and singing, possessiveness, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of sexual tension, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, frontman! sukuna, front!woman/soloist! reader;
WORD COUNT: 8.9k words.
NOTE: finally the starter for this year's kinktober!!! i liked this idea of sukuna being a frontman and just dating another singer and just like getting off doing this play of them having this rivalry but they're actually together??? i sat there and was like 'actually, their bed activities must go wild after every fake fight!'; anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3
masterlist
kinktober 2024 - kayu's version
if you want to, tip! <3
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PEOPLE DIDN’T KNOW HOW IT STARTED. But everything about the rivalry was electric, charged with an intensity that made headlines and drew crowds. Anyone who had been there from the beginning would swear it was something you had to experience firsthand—a front-row seat to the wildfire that was your feud with Ryomen Sukuna. 
Both bands had climbed their way to the top on different wavelengths: you, with your poetic lyrics and magnetic stage presence, a master of drawing the crowd into the emotion of your songs; and Sukuna, with his raw, untamed energy and unapologetic attitude, commanding attention like a force of nature. The music industry loved pitting you against each other, fanning the flames of competition, but no one had expected it to escalate the way it did.
It started innocently enough. Sukuna, in a radio interview, casually commented, “Sure, they're good, if you’re into that whole soft and emotional vibe. I just think music should have a bit more… bite.” The host laughed, the audience cheered, and Ryomen Sukuna’s grin was all teeth—sharp, confident. “You know, you gotta expect more!”
You had fired back the next day on social media with a witty post: “Bite all you want, but if your bark’s louder than your music, maybe you’re just a dog chasing its own tail.”
The tweet went viral within minutes. 
The fans loved it. The music blogs devoured it, dissecting every word, every implication. Both your names were plastered across headlines, articles speculating about a burgeoning rivalry that was just too juicy to ignore. The tension simmered, but it was still lighthearted, still playful. 
Then Sukuna took it to the next level.
At his next concert, in front of a sold-out crowd, he made a spectacle of it. “This next song….” he announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s dedicated to someone who thinks they can keep up with me.” His grin was wicked as the crowd roared in anticipation. The opening notes rang out—an aggressive beat, the kind that grabbed you by the throat. The lyrics were sharp, mocking, filled with clever jabs that made it unmistakable who they were about.
"Got your head in the clouds, but no feet on the ground, baby doll." Sukuna sang with a sneer. "You talk about a big game, but all I hear is sound. Nonsense!"
The audience went wild as the guitar line merged with the drums. The pyrotechnics were going insane with the beat. People ate it up. Social media exploded. Hashtags trended within the hour. Your name was on everyone’s lips, and suddenly, it was your turn.
Not to be outdone, you fired back at your own concert, taking shots at his image, his music, and even his fans. The cheers and screams were deafening; you knew you had his attention. From then on, it was an all-out war, a back-and-forth of jabs and taunts, each concert a new battleground. 
Then came the diss tracks.
You released yours first, a biting, cleverly constructed anthem that didn’t just mock his music but dissected his entire persona with surgical precision. The internet went wild. Memes, fan theories, reaction videos—your name was on everyone’s lips. Sukuna's response was swift, and his diss track hit like a punch to the gut. It was brutal, unapologetic, and catchy enough that even your own fans had to admit it was a banger.
Lines were drawn. Your fans and his went head-to-head on every platform imaginable, turning comment sections and fan forums into war zones. Arguments broke out, allegiances were tested, and friendships fractured. The media couldn’t get enough, fueling the fire with articles dissecting every lyric, every post, every glance exchanged between you two. It wasn't just a rivalry anymore; it was a movement.
And through it all, there was an unspoken understanding between you and Sukuna. A thrill in the way your eyes met across the stage, a shared smirk when your names were spoken in the same breath. You were rivals, sure, but there was something else there too—a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny. Every diss, every jab, was just a prelude to something bigger, something inevitable. 
People just had to be there. To witness the chaos, the passion, the music that became the soundtrack to an unforgettable war. To see how a feud could blur the line between hate and something far more dangerous. To feel the tension crackling in the air, knowing that this was only the beginning.
On your next concert, where you decided to strike back. “Heard some noise the other day, bothersome noise really.” you told the crowd, a sly smile playing on your lips. “Sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum. So, I thought, why not give them something real to cry about?”
The audience cheered, sensing the impending retaliation. And you delivered, every line of your song a retort, every beat a blow aimed squarely at Sukuna. "You get on my nerves; You're so fuckin' annoying, you could poison poison?" you sang, a smirk on your lips as the crowd chanted along, the hook instantly catchy, an earworm that would haunt Sukuna’s name for weeks. 
By the next day, the diss track was trending everywhere. Ryomen Sukuna was asked about it during an interview, and his reaction was priceless. He chuckled, clearly amused, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously playful. “Oh, I’m annoying, am I?” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “Well, sweetheart, when you’re that easy to rile up, it’s just too tempting not to play.”
Behind closed doors, though, it was a different story.
Backstage at a private after-party for Uraume’s album reveal, Ryomen Sukuna cornered you with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "That was cute, baby doll." he said, his voice low, intimate. "But you know you just gave me more to work with, right?"
You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please. As if you could come up with something half as clever."
Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, his smirk growing. “You think I’m not capable of playing your game?”
"I think you're used to being a blunt instrument, hm?" you teased, leaning closer. "But there's an art to this, darling. Not just noise."
His grin widened. “We’ll see about that, baby doll.” he murmured, his hand brushing yours—intentionally, deliberately. For a moment, your breath hitched. There was a charge in the air between you, an unspoken understanding.
It became a pattern. Each new concert brought a fresh wave of insults, veiled in clever lyrics. Every interview turned into an opportunity to stoke the fire, to keep the fans on the edge of their seats. The tension, the back-and-forth, the rapid-fire comebacks—it all played out in front of the world. But behind the scenes, it was like an elaborate game, a high-stakes dance that neither of you could quit.
"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam.
“Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through.
Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. 
You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.
He chuckled, leaning in closer until his lips were a breath away from yours. "Careful, my baby doll." he whispered. "People might start thinking about something else.”
Your smile widened, eyes locked with his. "Maybe it is." you replied, your heart racing in your chest, as his lips finally met yours, soft yet insistent. “Maybe it isn’t.”
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THERE WAS SO MUCH ADRENALINE. You were pacing back and forth, adrenaline coursing through your veins as your bandmates tuned their instruments, stealing glances at you. The festival was the biggest one yet, and your set was right after Sukuna and his folk. 
The perfect setup for another battle, another clash in this never-ending war. It was another festival gig and Sukuna was here again. But you weren’t just thinking about the performance. Your thoughts kept circling back to that smirk Sukuna flashed you from the stage earlier, as if daring you to make the first move tonight.
Your bassist nudges you with a grin. "You’re not seriously thinking about what he said last week, are you?"
You rolled your eyes. "Of course not." you lied. "But he’s been pushing it lately, don’t you think? I’m just figuring out how to outdo him this time."
Just as you said that, the door swung open, and there he was—Ryomen Sukuna, flanked by his own entourage, looking as smug as ever. His eyes zeroed in on you instantly, that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his gaze.
“Ready to get outclassed again?” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place.
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. Your set was… okay, if you’re into repetitive noise.”
He chuckled, stepping closer, ignoring the tension that rippled through the room. “Is that the best you’ve got, sweetheart? Because I’ve heard your new track… and honestly, I’m not impressed.”
You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and exhilaration. “Right, because your lyrical masterpiece about your ex was so groundbreaking. What was it called again? ‘Cliché’? Or was it ‘Cringe’? Hard to tell.”
Sukuna laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine, though you’d never admit it. “At least people are talking about it, baby doll.” he shot back, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, you and I both know… this isn’t about the music anymore.”
You took a step closer, refusing to back down. “Oh? Then what’s it about, Sukuna? Enlighten me.”
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper that only you could hear. “It’s about this… you and me, driving each other crazy. Admit it—you’re having fun.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. For a second, the noise of the festival outside seemed to fade, and all you could hear was your heartbeat, loud and insistent.
“You wish.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m just here to win, Sukuna.”
His grin widened, and he moved even closer, so close you could see the sparks in his eyes. “Then let’s see who wins tonight, baby doll.” he murmured, a challenge in every word. "And maybe, just maybe… we’ll figure out what the hell this really is."
Before you could respond, he turned on his heel, heading out with a laugh that lingered in the air long after he was gone. You stood there, breathless, wondering how the hell he always managed to get under your skin—and why a part of you liked it so much.
Your drummer nudged you, pulling you back to reality. "So… what’s the plan now?"
You smirked, grabbing your microphone, your adrenaline surging. “The plan?” you said. “We give them a show they’ll never forget.”
As you took the stage, you saw him standing off to the side, watching you with that infuriating grin. The crowd was roaring, the lights were blinding, and somewhere in the midst of it all, you felt the spark ignite again.
This was far from over.
The roar of the crowd vibrated through the stage as you stepped up to the microphone, eyes scanning the sea of faces. And there he was, off to the side, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. Ryomen Sukuna was waiting—waiting to see what you’d do, how you’d respond to his taunts, his challenges. The rivalry had become a game, but one neither of you were willing to lose.
You leaned into the mic, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. "How’s everyone doing tonight?" you shouted, and the crowd erupted in cheers, the noise almost deafening. "You know, I wasn’t sure if we should even bother showing up after that last set." 
You paused, letting the words sink in, and a wave of laughter and excited murmurs rippled through the audience. Your guitarist strummed a sharp chord, and the band jumped in with the opening notes of your new track—the one that had set the internet ablaze.
The fans knew the first lines by heart, screaming them back at you with an energy that could only come from shared devotion. You caught Sukuna’s eye, feeling that familiar thrill at the challenge that lay in his gaze.
Halfway through the set, you decided to escalate things. You turned back to the mic, catching your breath. "You know, guys…." you began. “There’s been a lot of talk lately… about who's really on top in this scene." 
The crowd cheered louder, sensing where you were going. "Some people think it’s that guy over there." You pointed in Sukuna’s direction, and the audience erupted into a mix of boos and cheers. “Hey pink head.”
Sukuna, ever the showman, gave an exaggerated bow, playing to the crowd’s reaction, which only made them more riled up.
“But I think we all know, everyone.” you continued, leaning forward with a grin. “That the real reason people are here tonight… is to see which one of us cracks first. So, what do you say, Sukuna?” You called out, your voice carrying over the noise. “Why don’t you come up here and face me?”
A ripple of excitement and disbelief swept through the crowd. Ryomen Sukuna’s smile grew wider, and without missing a beat, he moved toward the stage, his entourage trailing behind. He jumped up onto the platform, grabbing a mic from one of the stagehands, his eyes never leaving yours.
"You really wanna do this, baby doll?" he taunted, his voice low and teasing. "Because I don’t think your fans can handle what I’ve got in store."
You stepped closer, the tension thick between you, the audience practically buzzing with anticipation. “Oh, I think they can handle a lot more than you can, Sukuna.”
He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo off the stage walls. “Alright then, let’s give them a show.” He turned to the crowd. "How about a little live battle, right here, right now? Let’s see who’s really got the chops."
The crowd went wild, chanting both your name and his, the noise rising to a fever pitch. Your bandmates looked at you, uncertain but excited. You gave them a nod—it was on. You faced off with Sukuna, mics in hand, the beat dropping low and steady, building tension. The music swelled, and Sukuna started first, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. 
“You think you’re on top, but you’re just a phase,  
A flicker, a flame that’ll soon be erased.  
I’m the storm, the fire, the one they all fear,  
And when this is over, you’ll wish you weren’t here.”
The crowd erupted, and you could see the challenge in his eyes, daring you to match his intensity. He continued on, people saying ‘ey’ ‘oh’ and screaming as they echoed their words. You stepped up, not missing a beat as you grinned at him.
“You swagger and boast like you’re king of the stage,  
But all that you’ve got is that pathetic, tired old ass rage.  
I’m the light, the spark, you’re the one drinking cheap booze. 
When I’m done, your crowd’s gonna give you nothin’ but boos.”
The audience was in a frenzy now, torn between the two of you, your words cutting into the night air like knives. Sukuna leaned in closer, his grin still in place, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer force of his presence. He was electric, enigmatic. He was everything all at once as you looked at him.
“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that, baby doll.” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear over the chaos. “But do you really think you can outlast me?”
You smirked, adrenaline coursing through you like a drug. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
The beat dropped again, faster, harder, and the two of you kept going, each line sharper, each verse more biting than the last. It wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was a test of will, a clash of two forces too strong to coexist but too intrigued to stay apart.
And somewhere in the midst of it all, as the crowd surged and screamed, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t trying to win this battle. Maybe you were just trying to keep Sukuna’s eyes on you for as long as possible. 
══════════════════
YOU DIDN’T WANT TO GO TO PRACTICE TODAY. But you decided that you were going to go anyway. Mainly because your bandmates said they’ll buy you your favorite matcha drink with your favorite croissant today. And you like to be given free stuff, so off you went, dressed in baggy clothes and headed to the studio.
The studio lights were dimmed low, and the energy in the room crackled with excitement. Your bandmates were clustered around, phones in hand, eyes glued to the social media explosion that followed your latest diss track.
They seemed more excited than you. Especially now that you get to perform it live. You sat in the center, drinking your matcha drink with a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. The track had dropped at midnight, and by morning, it had already become the talk of the town.
The song was everywhere now. Fans and critics were dissecting every line, every beat, comparing it to Sukuna’s latest attempt at a rebuttal. But this time, you’d hit a nerve. You knew that already. Sukuna’s the type to enjoy saying something about anything and everything. Your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down to see a message from your manager.
"Check his story." it read. “Now.”
You quickly grabbed your phone, pulling up Sukuna’s social media. Sure enough, an Instagram Live was broadcasting in real-time. Ryomen Sukuna lounged on a familiar couch, the blue glow of his phone screen casting a soft light on his face. His expression was a mix of amused disbelief and genuine intrigue, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Alright, alright, you guys.” Sukuna drawled, glancing at the camera. “I gotta hand it to them—this track is… something. From you-know-who.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “But seriously, 'why you so obsessed with me?' That track is pretty interesting.”
He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “That hook… damn, it’s catchy. I’m almost flattered, really. Almost.” He paused, his grin widening. “You really think I got a Napoleon complex, baby doll? Because last I checked, I was standing pretty tall.”
The comments exploded—hearts, fire emojis, and a flurry of messages from fans of both sides, hurling playful and not-so-playful insults. He knew you would be watching his broadcast. You leaned back in your chair, smirking as you watched him. The song had clearly gotten under his skin, just as you’d intended.
Sukuna’s grin faded slightly as he continued, “But let’s talk about some of those lines. ‘Last man on earth still couldn’t get this’? Ouch. You know that’s not true, baby doll.” 
Hesnickers, a mischievous gleam in his scarlet eyes. “Because if I remember correctly… you were the one who couldn’t stop staring at me from across the room just a while ago.”
You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, but you kept your expression neutral. No way you’d give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words affected you. At least….You shake your head, continuing to drink your matcha drink. Not here, you think. It would be too obvious.
Sukuna leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “But seriously, props to you and your crew. You got everyone talking, and that’s what it’s all about, right?” He winked at the camera. “Now, I guess I’ll just have to come up with something to top it… and I will.”
He ended the Live with a cocky grin, and your phone buzzed again—a new message from your manager. “He’s biting. Good job. This is gonna blow up.”
Your drummer chuckled, “Did you see the way he was trying so hard not to laugh? He’s loving this just as much as we are.”
Your guitarist nodded, absently strumming a few chords. “Oh, he’s definitely going to come back with something. What’s the next move?”
You grinned, leaning forward, fingers tapping rhythmically on your knee. “Next move? We keep pushing. He wants a war, we’ll give him a war.”
Your bassist chimed in, “And if he’s obsessed, we’re gonna make sure he stays that way.”
The room burst into laughter, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You had Sukuna’s attention, and you weren’t planning on letting go anytime soon. You stood up and put your drink away. “Alright, alright. Time to practice.”
A few hours later, as you were leaving the studio and headed for dinner with your bandmates, your phone buzzed again—a private message from Ryomen Sukuna himself.
“Nice track, baby doll. You got guts. But don’t think for a second this is over.”
You smirked at the screen, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed back a quick reply. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
With that, you hit send, knowing full well that this game of cat and mouse was far from over. The rivalry had taken on a life of its own, and you were ready to see it through to the end.
The days following the Instagram Live were a whirlwind of activity. The media coverage of your feud with Sukuna was relentless, and the buzz around both your diss track and Sukuna's playful response only grew louder. Your fans were eagerly waiting for the next move, while the anticipation among Sukuna's followers was palpable.
Your studio was buzzing with a new energy as your band prepared for the next stage of the rivalry. You were in a brainstorming session with your team, mapping out strategies and refining ideas. The stakes had never been higher, and everyone was determined to capitalize on the momentum.
As you reviewed some rough cuts of new material, your phone once more buzzed with a notification—a direct message from Sukuna on Instagram. You raised an eyebrow. Your curiosity piqued, and opened it to find a short video clip.
The video showed Sukuna lounging in his familiar and stylish, minimalistic apartment, the camera focused on his face. He had a relaxed, almost smug expression, and he started speaking directly to the camera.
“Hey, baby doll.” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “I see you’re still all fired up from our little game. Can’t say I’m surprised. But if you think you’ve got me cornered, you’re in for a surprise.”
He paused, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m working on something that’ll blow your track out of the water. Something special, just for you.” He leaned in closer, his tone dropping to a more intimate level. “And I promise, it’s going to make you rethink everything you thought you knew about this competition.”
Sukuna ended the video with a wink, and the message was signed with a flourish: “Yours truly, Sukuna.”
You chuckled, impressed by his confidence and intrigued by his hint. You knew this was only the beginning of a new round in your ongoing rivalry. You showed the video to your bandmates, and they were immediately excited. 
“Looks like Sukuna’s not holding back.” your drummer said, leaning over to get a better look. “What’s our move?”
You grinned, feeling the familiar thrill of competition. “We push the envelope even further. If he’s coming at us with something big, we need to be ready to top it. Let’s go all in.”
The team rallied, diving into planning and creative sessions with renewed vigor. Ideas were thrown around, debates sparked, and everyone was charged with the excitement of outdoing Sukuna. Later that evening, as you were reviewing the final mix of your new track, your phone buzzed again. 
It was another message from Sukuna, this time with a photo attached. It was a behind-the-scenes shot from his recording studio, showing him with headphones on, a focused expression on his face. The caption read: “Just a little preview of what’s coming your way. Can’t wait to see your reaction 😉”
You couldn’t help but smile. The rivalry was as thrilling as ever, and Sukuna’s antics only made it more engaging. You replied with a playful message: “Bring it on, Sukuna. We’re ready for whatever you’ve got.”
As you finished up for the night, you felt a rush of anticipation. The battle between you and Sukuna had transcended mere competition; it had become an electrifying dance, each of you pushing the other to new heights. And you were more than ready for the next move.
The stage lights cut through the darkness, bathing Sukuna in a dramatic, almost ethereal glow. The crowd roared with anticipation, their excitement palpable as they waited for Sukuna’s next performance. You were in the VIP section, surrounded by your bandmates, eyes fixed on the stage. The rivalry had reached a new peak, and tonight was the next chapter.
Sukuna appeared at the center of the stage, wearing a tailored black suit that accentuated his confident, charismatic presence. His expression was a mix of cocky assurance and playful challenge. He grabbed the microphone with an almost theatrical flair, and the band behind him struck up a powerful, bass-heavy beat.
He began to sing, his voice dripping with both charm and defiance. The lyrics were a direct response to your latest track, each line crafted to counter your words with his own brand of swagger and wit. 
“You think you’re clever with your little diss track, babe, 
But let me show you what I’ve got—watch me take it back. 
You throw punches in the dark, but I’m the light that blinds, 
Every move you make, every line you drop, I’m right behind.”
The crowd cheered, their energy feeding into Sukuna’s performance. His voice was smooth and commanding, each note perfectly delivered with an edge of playful arrogance. As the chorus hit, Sukuna took a moment to address the audience directly. He flashed a grin and winked in your direction, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, charged moment.
“And you think you know me? Think you’ve got my number? 
Watch me turn this game around, and watch you slumber. 
I’m the king of this stage, and you’re just a player, 
So step aside, baby doll, it’s time for a new layer.
Call me up, call me late, rumble some date.
Come on, be obsessed with me, get home late.”
The wink was truly unmistakable—a flirtatious, provocative gesture that carried both a challenge and a promise. You bit your lower lip. It was clear that Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just participating in this rivalry; he was fully immersed in it, relishing every moment and using it to his advantage.
Just as much, you also couldn’t help but be impressed, despite the competitive edge. The rest of his performance was electrifying, and Sukuna’s ability to blend his charm with his musical prowess only heightened the tension and excitement of your ongoing feud. 
As the song ended, Sukuna raised his arms in victory, soaking in the applause and cheers of his fans. He glanced over at you again, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. The crowd’s energy was palpable as they chanted Sukuna’s name, and you could feel the shift in the air—an unspoken understanding that this battle was far from over. 
You turned to your bandmates, a determined gleam in your eyes. “He’s got moves, no doubt about it. But we’ve got our own plans. Let’s give him something he won’t forget.”
══════════════════
YOU AGREED TO MEET UP IN HIS STUDIO. After all, you had a key to his studio. One of only two people, besides his manager. The echo of the door clicking shut behind you was the only sound in the dimly lit room.  The minute you stepped inside, a familiar hand grabbed your waist, spinning you around with a rough but playful urgency. You couldn’t help but feel adrenaline rush through you.
You looked up to see Ryomen Sukuna’s smirk inches from your face, his eyes dancing with mischief. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as he lets his attention stuck on you for a little while longer. He’d just gotten here after a long schedule today, that you knew. But he just couldn’t pass up this moment. He missed you, after all.
“You’ve really done it now, baby doll.” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "That track? You know it’s all anyone is talking about. Got my fans in a frenzy, and I can't say I'm not impressed."
You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck. “Wasn’t that the plan?” you whispered back, feeling his grip tighten possessively around your waist. “To keep everyone on their toes? To keep you on your toes?”
Sukuna’s smirk softened into something a little darker, a little more heated. “Oh, you’ve got me on my toes alright, baby doll.” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”
You shivered at the feel of his breath against your skin, but you didn’t back down. “And you love every second of it, darling.” you shot back, daring him with your eyes. “Admit it, Sukuna. You like it when I push your buttons.”
He chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a thrill through you. “Maybe I do, baby doll.” he admitted, nipping playfully at your earlobe. “Maybe I love watching you act all tough out there, throwing shade at me like you mean it. Gets my blood pumping.”
You tilted your head back, grinning up at him. “You think you’re the only one who gets a thrill out of this? Watching you strut around on stage, pretending you’re so unaffected…” You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. “I know better. I see how you watch me.”
Sukuna’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening. “Oh, you’ve got no idea what I think when I’m up there, you know.” he growled, his lips brushing against yours, the air between you charged with electricity. “No idea how much I want to drag you off that stage and—”
You cut him off with a kiss, fierce and demanding, pouring every bit of the adrenaline still buzzing through your veins into the press of your lips against his. He responded instantly, kissing you back with a hunger that made your knees weak, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there was no space left between your bodies.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, panting slightly, foreheads resting against each other. “I knew you’d enjoy it, our little roleplay.” you whispered, your lips brushing his with every word. “I knew you’d love playing this game.”
Sukuna laughed softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, it’s more than just a game, baby doll.” he murmured. “It’s our foreplay.” He grinned wickedly, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Every line, every taunt, every verse… just getting me more worked up for moments like this.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned into his touch, your smile matching his. “So… what’s next?” you asked, teasingly. “Another diss track? Or are we moving on to something a little more… physical?”
He chuckled again, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “Both, baby doll.” he whispered. “Always both. I’ll keep you on your toes, and you keep me guessing. That’s how this works, right?”
You nodded, feeling the thrill of his words spark through you. “You already know it well, darling.” you grinned at him, pulling him closer for another kiss, deeper this time, more intense. 
Because behind all the public drama, the mock insults, the fan wars and the staged battles, there was something real—a chemistry, a connection, that neither of you could resist. No one else knows, and they didn’t have to. Because that’s what makes it fun, that’s what gets you hot, high for him. 
This elaborate game of rivals was just another way for you and Sukuna to both express that pull, that irresistible need to keep challenging each other, to keep pushing each other’s buttons in every way possible. And you knew, as he did, that you wouldn’t have it any other way.
As Sukuna’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with a fervent intensity, you felt the world around you blur into a haze of desire and adrenaline. His hands roamed possessively over your body, each touch a reminder of the raw, unfiltered connection that existed between you.
The heat of his skin, the firm grip of his hands, and the way he pressed you closer only heightened the sensation that this was more than just a physical encounter—it was an embodiment of the fierce rivalry and undeniable attraction that had been building between you two.
The way his fingers traced your curves, his touch both commanding and tender, spoke volumes. It was as if he was claiming you, not just in the heat of the moment but in a way that was deeply intertwined with the ongoing battle of wits and passion you both were engaged in. The contrast between his rough, assertive touch and the gentle caresses created a whirlwind of emotions, each sensation adding to the already charged atmosphere.
As you pull back slightly, your breaths mingling, Sukuna’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. His smirk, still present, held a promise of more to come—more battles, more games, and an unspoken agreement that this was only the beginning of an exhilarating journey. For a moment, you think you fell in love deeper with him again.
The gradual approach of his fingertips was a slow, tantalizing tease, each moment stretched out with the deliberate pace of someone who knew exactly how to build anticipation. You could feel the heat from his touch even before his fingers made full contact, the mere thought of what was to come causing your breath to hitch and your body to respond eagerly.
As his fingers inched closer, their warmth and the promise of what lay ahead created a growing sense of urgency and need. The gentle caress of his fingertips, as they brushed against your inner thighs, was both intimate and assertive, a clear indication of his intent. The friction was electric, a stark contrast to the cool air around you, amplifying every sensation as his touch grew more purposeful.
You could feel his breath against your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, locked onto yours with an intense focus, conveyed both a challenge and a deep-seated desire. The way he watched you, his gaze dark and smoldering, only added to the overwhelming allure of the moment.
His fingers finally made contact with your womanhood, the touch both delicate and firm, exploring with a confident familiarity. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and testing. Each stroke was designed to elicit a response, to push you further into a state of heightened arousal.
A satisfied smirk curled on Sukuna’s lips, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of pride and desire. “You know it don’t you, hm?” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “No one else can touch you like this, no one else can make you feel what I do.”
His words were a taunt and a promise, each thrust a reminder of the exclusive, raw connection between you. “You need this, don’t you?” he continued, his voice low and seductive. “You need me to push you, to make you feel every inch of me.”
Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a moan slipped from your lips. He was relentless, and he knew it, his movements intentional and powerful, his gaze never leaving yours. 
“Admit it, baby doll.” Sukuna demanded, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Admit that no one else can make you feel this way.”
You bit back a moan, your head tilting back as you fought for control, but the way he looked at you, the way he moved against you—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. “You… you’re so full of yourself, darling.” you managed to gasp, though the quiver in your voice betrayed how much he was getting to you.
Sukuna chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe.” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck, his teeth nipping at your pulse. “But you like that about me, don’t you? You like the way I take control… the way I make you lose yourself.”
As Sukuna’s breath grew heavier, mingling with yours, he leaned in closer, the heat of his body was all too much for you. His eyes, locked onto yours, held a smoldering intensity that combined both dominance and a profound passion. The teasing brush of his fingers, so close to your most intimate area, sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery need that built with every second.
When you finally released a groan escaping your lips, you held him tightly, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Sukuna’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and approval.
“You really get a load of it when it’s good, don’t you?” he teased, his voice low and filled with a playful edge. His tone was both confident and affectionate, the snicker that followed underscoring the satisfaction he felt in having pushed you to such a heightened state.
Sukuna’s words hung in the air, a provocative mix of satisfaction and challenge. His fingers continued their gentle, lingering caress, prolonging the aftershocks of your release. The smirk on his face was unmistakable—a blend of triumph and deep-seated affection that he only reserved for moments like these.
“You know, baby doll..." he said, his voice softening to a more intimate tone. “it’s not just about getting a reaction. It’s about knowing how much you need this—how much you crave every bit of it.” His hand moved with deliberate, gentle strokes, still teasing, ensuring that the aftermath was as intense as the build-up.
You looked up at him, breathless and flushed, meeting his gaze with a mix of desire and exhaustion. The connection between you two felt palpable, a mix of competition and passion that seemed to define every interaction.
“Is that so?” you managed to reply, your voice hoarse but laced with playful defiance. “And what makes you think you’re the only one who can bring me to that edge?”
Sukuna’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his lips curving into an even broader smile. “Oh, I don’t think I’m the only one. But I do like to think that I’m the best at it. There’s something about our… little games that just makes everything so much more exhilarating.”
He pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. “And you love it. Every second of it. The highs, the lows, the rivalry... it’s all part of the thrill.”
You shivered at his words, the heat of his body and the intimacy of the moment amplifying the connection between you. His touch was a constant reminder of the dynamic between you two—a blend of passion, competition, and mutual desire that made every encounter both electrifying and deeply personal.
As the intensity of the moment began to wane, Sukuna’s touch softened, and he held you close, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The playful glint in his eyes remained, but there was also a deeper sense of satisfaction, as if the night had cemented something unspoken between you two.
“I guess we’ll just have to keep this up, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
He starts to emphasize his words, his voice low and commanding, as he enters you with a slow, deliberate thrust that sends a shudder through your entire body. Each movement is precise, calculated, as if he wants to draw out every sensation, making sure you feel the intensity of him.
Your grip on his shoulders tightens reflexively, your nails scraping against his skin, leaving faint trails in their wake. The contact seems to please him, a low, almost primal growl escaping from his throat, vibrating through his chest and into yours.
The warmth between you both intensifies, the heat of the moment engulfing you. It’s stifling, but you crave more of it, each moment more consuming than the last. Your mind, once racing with scattered thoughts, is now empty, surrendered entirely to the sensations overwhelming you.
Every nerve is alive, tuned to the rhythm of his body against yours. As Sukuna pushes deeper, your world narrows to the singular, undeniable reality of him filling you completely. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, and you’re lost in the sheer intensity of it. All that exists is him, inside you, and the way your body responds to every movement he makes.
“Say it, baby doll.” he insisted, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to send a sharp thrill through you. “Say you need me.”
Your heart pounded with thunderous applause, and for a moment, you hesitated, the words caught in your throat. But the way he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, pulled the confession from your lips.
“I… I need you, darling.” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your body arching against his, craving more. “I need you, Sukuna. All of you.”
A satisfied grin spread across his face, his hold on you tightening as he captured your lips in a fierce, claiming kiss. “That’s right.” he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with desire. “Only me. Always me.”
And with that, he moved with renewed intensity, each deep thrust and touch a declaration, a challenge, a promise that you were his—and that no one else could ever come close to what the two of you had. He was good, he was good at making you feel like this. 
His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your shoulders, down the curve of your spine—each kiss a mark, a reminder that this, whatever it was between you, was uniquely yours. Every gasp, every moan he drew from you only seemed to fuel him more, his movements becoming more fervent, more determined to prove his point.
And you couldn’t help but revel in it—the way he knew your body, the way he knew exactly how to drive you to the edge and pull you back, just to see the need in your eyes grow stronger.
“You love it, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “You love the way I make you feel… the way I take you apart and put you back together again.”
You could only nod, lost in the rhythm of his movements, the intensity of his gaze, the heat that built between you. Because he was right—there was something about the way he touched you, the way he pushed you, that no one else could ever replicate. And in that moment, with his hands on your skin and his voice in your ear, you knew that you were exactly where you wanted to be.
He continued with a deliberate rhythm, his movements precise and relentless. You could feel the intensity building, every touch and motion sending waves of sensation coursing through you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mix of pleasure and the sheer force of his actions. He always knew how to push you to the edge, how to test your limits, and tonight was no different.
Each thrust was a carefully measured challenge, a dance of dominance and submission that left you breathless, gasping for air yet craving more. The friction between you was electric, sparking and crackling like a live wire, building with every moment until you felt like you might burst from the sheer pressure of it.
Sukuna’s eyes never left yours, a dark, consuming gaze that seemed to see right through you, drinking in every reaction, every gasp and shiver. “You feel that?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “That’s what happens when you get me riled up and excited, baby doll.”
You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat, your body trembling under his touch. He was relentless, every motion a reminder of his strength, his intensity, and the unique connection that bound you together. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, the kind of sensation that left you dizzy and reeling, your heart pounding in your chest.
But beneath the raw physicality, there was something more—a deep, unspoken understanding, a bond that neither of you could deny. His touch wasn’t just about possession or power; it was about claiming you in a way that no one else ever could. And in his eyes, you could see the same need reflected back at you, a hunger that matched your own.
“Tell me, baby doll.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Tell me you feel it too.”
“I feel it, darling.” you whispered, your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment, your hands gripping his arms as if anchoring yourself to him. “I always feel it… with you.”
A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze softening for just a moment, a flicker of something almost tender beneath the heat. “Good, good…” he said softly. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now… not ever.”
And with those words, he moved with renewed determination, his hands tightening on your hips, his body pressing closer, as if trying to fuse the two of you together. The rhythm between you became more frantic, more desperate, as if neither of you could get enough, as if the very air between you was charged with the electricity of everything left unsaid.
The world around you faded, until there was nothing but him—his touch, his voice, his breath against your skin. And in that moment, you knew that whatever games you played in public, whatever battles you waged on stage, nothing could compare to this. To the way he made you feel, to the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you surrendered to the sensation, letting it take you over completely, knowing that with Sukuna, you would always find yourself right back where you belonged—in his arms, in his gaze, lost in the heat of this dangerous, undeniable connection.
Your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, a rhythm known only to the two of you. Sukuna’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of his presence, his power. His breath was hot against your neck, each word he whispered sending a fresh wave of heat through your veins.
"You're mine. Only mine." he murmured against your ear, his voice thick with conviction. "No one else gets to have this… to have you like this." His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone both thrilling and comforting in its intensity.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark desire and something deeper—something that made your heart clench in your chest. "You think anyone else could handle you?" he taunted, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "Handle us?"
You couldn’t help but smile back, despite the breathless state he had you in. "N–no one." you managed to reply, your voice a whisper, yet full of certainty. "No one else would even come close. Only you.”
His grin widened at your words, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mix of pride and satisfaction. "Damn right." he said, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, almost tender gesture before capturing them in a fierce kiss. “Only me.”
When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, the air between you charged with an intensity that was almost palpable. "We could do this forever, you know," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his expression suddenly serious. "Keep pretending, keep pushing each other… but you and I both know the truth."
You looked up at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. "And what's that truth, Sukuna?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "That no matter what happens on stage, no matter what anyone else thinks… this is real. What we have… it’s real."
For a moment, all the bravado, all the games, all the theatrics fell away, and it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something deeper, something more profound. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of rightness settling in your bones. "Yeah, of course." you whispered back, your hand finding its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "It’s real."
And as his lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, you knew that whatever this was—rivalry, love, obsession—it was something you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Because with Sukuna, every line blurred, every touch sparked, and every word spoken between you felt like the beginning of a song only the two of you knew the lyrics to.
A song that, no matter how many verses you added, would never truly end.
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epilogue 
The social media buzz had been relentless since the rivalry between you and Sukuna had begun. Fans and media alike were glued to every update, eagerly dissecting every new development in your ongoing feud. It was a carefully crafted spectacle, each move calculated for maximum impact. But what came next was entirely unexpected.
Sukuna was known for his bold, often controversial social media presence, but this latest post took things to a whole new level.
The photo he shared was striking and intimate—a mirror selfie in which Sukuna stood with his back to the camera, his muscular body on full display. In front of him, you were barely visible, your form concealed mostly by his arm, his body strategically positioned to cover you. The image was provocative, suggesting an intimacy that had never been publicly acknowledged before.
The caption, simple yet loaded, read: “My baby doll likes excitement.”
The post exploded across the internet. Fans, already used to the charged tension between you two, were stunned into silence before erupting into a frenzy of speculation and excitement. The comments section was a whirlwind of reactions, from shock to adoration, as people tried to make sense of this unexpected revelation.
At first, there was a stunned silence from your side. You were sitting in your living room, scrolling through your feed, when you saw the post. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the image and the caption. The boldness of it was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.
Minutes later, your phone buzzed with notifications. Your own social media accounts were flooded with messages, your fans reaching out with a mix of curiosity and support. Some were confused, others were jubilant, but everyone was talking about it.
You decided it was time to respond, and you crafted a post that acknowledged the new development without backing down from the playful rivalry. You shared a photo from one of your concerts, the stage lights casting a dramatic glow.
Your hands were littering towards his naked chest while you were dressed on your stage outfit. He came to visit you and well....had fun in your waiting room. You added a caption: “Guess Sukuna’s not the only one who likes a little excitement. See you on stage, my darling.”
Sukuna’s reaction was swift and equally bold. He replied to your post with a comment: “Looking forward to it. Let’s see who can keep the audience more entertained.”
The exchange between you two set the internet alight. The combination of intimacy and competition only fueled the frenzy, turning your personal revelation into the hottest topic of the moment.
Behind the scenes, the two of you found solace in the chaos, a private celebration of your bold move. When you next met, the atmosphere was charged with a new kind of excitement. 
Sukuna greeted you with a grin that spoke volumes. “Well, that certainly stirred things up, hm?” he said, pulling you into a fierce hug.
You laughed, your heart racing with the thrill of it all. “You’ve got that right.” you replied, looking up at him with a smile. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ready for the next round?”
You looked into his eyes, a mix of challenge and affection in your gaze. “Always.” you whispered back. And with that, you both knew that whatever came next, it would be just as exhilarating and unpredictable as the ride you were already on.
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babygirlbenji · 8 months ago
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Prince Charming - Mason Mount
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a/n i feel like i've used this gif before but i do not care! i'm off to a wedding so wanted to get this out! enjoy mwah <3
summary: just some fluff with mason and reader who is sick!
You hated being sick. 
The cough that had been racking your body for the last few days had reduced you to talking in croaky whispers, your whole body ached, you had no energy and all you could do if you weren’t sleeping was watching repeats of Friends. 
What made it even worse was that Mason wasn’t there to look after you and give you the love you so desperately needed to heal. He was in Manchester and you were stuck in London. To add insult to injury, you had planned to take the train up to the north west to see him and watch his game against Liverpool. You’d had to message him the day before, saying you weren’t going to be able to come up. He wanted nothing more than to look after his girl, but Ten Hag had been adamant that Mason would at least be on the bench for the game, if not in the starting lineup. 
It was just an all round bad situation. A long distance relationship was not necessarily what you signed up for, but you loved Mason more than anything in the world. You were both determined to make it work. 
On Friday night, you were tapping through your Instagram stories, looking at all your friends going out and celebrating the end of the working week. You sighed, which obviously turned into a coughing fit. With nothing else to do, you turned off the lights and curled up in bed, hoping that by morning, you would feel better and be able to watch Mason play. 
Or at least that was your plan. This plan was scuppered by your phone lighting up with Mason’s picture as he rang for a FaceTime. You shoved a hoodie on and ran your fingers through your hair in the hopes it would make you a little bit more presentable, before flicking the lamp by your bed on so you could speak to him. 
‘H-Hello,’ you croaked. His face was slightly pixelated through the dodgy WiFi in the hotel he was staying in, but he still managed to look like he’d walked off a Vogue shoot. Damn him, you thought to yourself. 
‘Hey sweet thing, how are you doing?’ Just the sound of his voice was enough to perk you up a bit, and you sat up. 
‘I’m… I’m okay, just tired and got this stupid bloody cold that’s had me bed bound the last two days. How are you?’ You could barely stifle the yawn that crept out of your mouth without any warning. 
‘Oh darling, I’m okay, just called because I’m worried about you, I’ve hardly heard from you the last couple of days and wanted to check in.’ Your heart swelled. You’d been together over two years, but he was still finding ways to make your dreams come true. He really was your Prince Charming. ‘I won’t keep you long as I know you’re sick, just wanted to say I love you and I miss you.’ 
The emotions you’d been feeling over the last couple of days boiled over, and your face crumpled as tears leaked from your eyes. 
‘I really, really miss you, Mase,’ you sobbed. ‘I feel awful, I can’t do any work, I haven’t seen you in like a fortnight, everyone’s going out and enjoying the sun while I’m stuck here on my own with not even Ben or Reece to keep me company as they’re in Timbuktu or something.’ Mason couldn’t help but chuckle at your melodramatics; Ben and Reece were not in Timbuktu, they were in fact in Southampton for their away game. He didn’t have the heart to mention this, though. 
‘I’m sorry, baby, I really am, I wish I could be there to help. Just focus on resting and getting better, okay? I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished this game, I promise.’ You sighed. You knew he couldn’t help being a professional footballer, and he loved playing with United, but you couldn’t help but feel like part of your soul went wherever he went. 
You chatted a bit more, or rather, he chatted while you listened to him, before he bade you goodnight and you were once again left with nothing but the sound of your fan blowing cool air on you to stop your fever spiking too high. It wasn’t long before your cold and cough medication kicked in, and you were out like a light. 
*
You awoke the next morning feeling like there was someone in your house. Ignoring the fact that your fever had gone and your airways felt clearer than they had in the last few days, you stepped out of bed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Fully prepared to call the police, you padded silently down the carpeted staircase and peeked into the kitchen. 
What you saw made another sob fall out of your mouth.
Mason was stood by the stove, wearing a United hoodie and track pants, while stirring something in a pot on the hob which you could only guess to be chicken soup. 
‘Mase?!’ He whirled around and grinned.
‘Hey babe!’ You summoned the energy to run over to him and throw your arms around his neck, relishing the contact of your bodies having been apart for nearly two weeks. 
‘What the hell are you doing here? I thought they wanted you to play?’ He kissed your temple and shrugged.
‘But I wanted to be here with you more. It wasn’t easy but I managed to negotiate it off. After our FaceTime last night I couldn’t be apart from you any longer. I couldn’t have you suffering here by yourself while Ben and Reece are in Timbuktu.’ You giggled at the reference to what you’d said the previous night, and hugged him harder, your head finding its usual spot just under his neck. He wrapped you up in his arms and rubbed your back. 
‘I can’t thank you enough, Masey, it means the world.’ You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.
‘It’s the least I can do for my princess.’ And in that moment, with you curled up against his chest while he stirred chunks of chicken and vegetables in a thick broth, breathing in his glorious scent that could only the scent of home, you had absolutely no doubt in your mind that you really had found your Prince Charming. 
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ohsohoney · 2 months ago
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When it comes to love you're just as blinded.
Part Thirteen
Eminem x Musician
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
Note: Thirteen!! I'm actually so excited to post this one. There's some angst, but like it's not all bad, this is actually probably one of my favourite updates to date. But this is just a forewarning! Lots of swearing too, to be expected really so.. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, have a feeling there's gonna be a lot of emotions over this one!
Thank you again for all the love this series has gotten, means so much and really does keep me writing:)
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
taglist: @thelastemzy @helloitsme1223
Masterlist
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It was strained. 
The entire house, its whole atmosphere. It was just incredibly heavy and strange.
It wasn’t hard to miss either, judging from the careful way Rosie had been watching the two of us since she’d first woken up this morning. 
But last night hadn’t fared any better. Em had been weirdly distant; not meeting my eye, dancing around subjects, hardly speaking at all in actuality, and then he went as far as to avoid my touch— even as I’d handed him a fucking fork. 
It was such a harsh reality check for me in truth, because suddenly, I felt like an intruder. 
“El?” Rosie’s voice rang out, drawing me from my inner musings as well as the slice of toast I’d practically been burning a hole into. 
“Hm?” I replied belatedly, dragging my eyes up and away from my plate to cast her a distant look, but Z was just wearing this perplexed sort of frown that had me blinking away any remaining haze as she dropped her spoon into her bowl of cereal. The splash sent a few drops of milk flying over the countertop.
“Called you like four times.” She sighed, that frown of hers still prominent enough for me to throw a small smile back in apology.
“Sorry, just– must be half asleep still.” I attempted to shake off the solemn feeling I’d been cast in, laughing faintly before I finally took a bite out of my own breakfast, hating the way the bread tasted like ash in my mouth.
She didn’t seem to take the bait though, not if the scrunch of her brow was any indication, or her next words, “Are you sure? ‘Cause last night–”
I didn’t know whether or not to be grateful for Marshall’s sudden appearance in that next moment because the girl swiftly cut herself off in favour of hurriedly spooning another load of cereal into her mouth.
Marshall whipped around the island without so much as a glance in my direction, opening up the fridge before he turned towards the coffee pot he had laid out but hadn’t used since my first day here. The kettle and the half-made mug of tea I’d set out for him either going unseen or just ignored. I was betting on the latter.
I opened my mouth to say something, if only to break the debilitating silence, when the man himself unknowingly cut me off. “You almost ready?” He questioned Z, who was still slurping up the remnants of her bowl. 
The girl’s eyes darted towards him from over the porcelain brim of it before she dropped her arms to cast him a buoyant grin lined with, what could have only been, a milk moustache. I couldn’t help the fondness my smile gave way to, or how I reached out to wipe her upper lip with a nearby napkin. 
Her expression softened at either the gesture or my laughter, I wasn't quite sure, but her bright eyes glanced back over to her Dad just as I withdrew my hand.
“Nearly, just my shoes.” Rosie told him easily enough, kicking her legs out beneath the table to better show him her shoeless feet. I saw Marshall roll his eyes out of the corner of my own eye and deigned to take a long sip of my brew if only to keep from flashing him the shared smile that threatened to break through. I didn’t think it would fair well right now, me trying to buddy up to him over his daughter's shameless antics. 
“We got fifteen minutes ‘fore you’re late.” He replied to her as he all but drained his mug dry, the heady smell of coffee grinds polluted the kitchen's air. I bit the inside of my cheek when the familiar warning of scalding his mouth crawled its way out across my tongue, but I didn’t dare speak a word.
Rosie bobbed her head in a quick understanding, already jumping down from the barstool to run and grab the last of her things before she could set off for school, forgetting the dirtied bowl she had left on the counter.
I didn’t think much of my next movement, in truth, mostly looking for a reason to ignore the heavy cloud which had since settled over the shared space, as I picked up both the bowl, my plate too, to carry them both over to the bin and sink. 
A sound had me glancing back over my shoulder instinctively once I’d turned on the taps though, surprised to find Marshall already looking in my direction, or rather the sinks, I supposed.
But maybe I was wrong about that, because my surprise jumped straight up to shock when I heard him speak, to me. “How many times I tell you, you ain’t gotta do that?” It didn’t sound much like the question it was meant to be, more of a grunt than anything else as his hard stare flickered up to meet mine.
It was instinct for me to frown, but as my forehead went to furrow I was quick to smooth it back out again and turn my back on him, knowing this conversation would be much easier if I made quick work of the dishes in the sink. “I don’t mind.” I muttered back, hands already covered in soap duds.
He didn’t deign to respond, just let the sound of the water fill the lengthy space that had been created between us so suddenly. My heart ached a little over it, in truth, as I wondered what I’d done so wrong to have fucked up the easy thing we had going on here. 
Because look, it wasn’t as though I was new to quick snipes or heated conversations, or whatever the fuck this was. But it unsettled me enough to know that it was him that I was on the outs with. Marshall, he’d practically taken me in, done more than just house and feed me, but now he was just over it? Done with all the niceties because of an almost– what, kiss? If it had even been that at all. 
But I didn’t, scratch that, I couldn’t linger on the thought because if I did, then I would be sure to start fucking throwing back words a lot more scathing than just ‘I don’t mind’.
I was broken from the way I was furiously scrubbing away at my plate with the scour when my personal space was suddenly invaded. I all but jumped out of my skin as my head shot over to the left to find Marshall now stood there, leaning over me in the tight corner which sat between the two adjoining counters, just so that he could drop his cup into the soapy basin. 
His eyes met mine the second I looked up at him, mouth somewhat agape enough to have those icy blues of his dropping down to catch a quick look before they settled back on my own again. I went to swallow, confused and caught entirely off guard by the intrusion, but found I couldn’t. Which was good, in reality, seeing as I didn’t dare want to let onto the fact that he’d garnered anything more than surprise out of me.
“Seein’ as you don’t mind then.” 
Marshall’s comment perplexed me further, before I caught wind of what he was really getting at with it. So it was in that next moment that I allowed my eyes to narrow, even as he brushed back against me slowly, almost languid in his retreat. 
I huffed out a tiny, grim laugh, more air than anything, when I shoved the dish I’d been cleaning into his chest, flicking soap and water all over him. But it was missed only slightly by his moving form, catching his bicep instead and allowing a trail of water to drip down his bare forearm. “You won’t mind dryin’ then.” I shot back scathingly, clenching my teeth.
As much as my own action had surprised me, the drawl of my accent heightening in my anger gave way to the actual shock which lined beneath it, forcing me to turn back to the sink before Marshall could realise or actually comment on it. 
I didn’t know what it was about what had transpired that kept him from jumping down my throat, but he kept quiet even as it took him a good second or two to grab the towel hanging by the draining rack and wipe at the sodden plate. 
It was tense after that. Not a word was spoken, and so a shaky exhale left me the moment Rosie reentered the room, her shoes clicking against the kitchen tiles as she slung her school bag over a single shoulder. 
If Marshall heard the reaction, he gave no indication, but was quick in the way he jumped back from the counter to meet her. “Let’s go.” He all but demanded after he’d chucked the towel down onto the side so that he could round the island. 
I didn’t have to look back to hear the confusion Rosie obviously felt, “Is El not coming?”
Opening my mouth to answer her, my chest pinched when Marshall did so for me instead, “Not today. Come on, you gone be late.”
It was with that which he withdrew from the room with, leaving me blinking and Rosie gaping at his retreating figure. I wondered then where the hell it had all gone wrong. 
When Rosie casted her eyes back to me, my hands were still hovering over the sink but I witnessed the way her usual smile had transformed into something more solemn, or perhaps just ruminative. 
Being the adult, as well as the ‘bigger fucking person!’ I wanted to scream at his back. I forced my expression into something a whole lot sweeter than just the bewilderment that had plastered it a second before. I let go of a large breath and reached for the tea towel. 
“I just got a new idea for a song, figured I’d write it down before I lost it, you know?” I attempted to reassure, brushing off how odd the entire situation must have seemed to her.
Because why was I covering for a forty-something year old man and his pissy demeanour? Well, one simple reason could be that it wasn’t Rosie’s fault that her Dad was being a massive prick at the moment, and that I for one wasn’t going to be shucking her with the bubbling irritation I felt for him. Something which I’d picked up from living in a house a whole lot worse than this, where you didn’t know whether a reply would earn you an outright laugh or something to tell your future therapist about.
Z was nothing if not perceptive though and so when she just hummed I was quickly taken back to my own childhood, to when some of my mum’s less shittier boyfriends had attempted to lie their way out of what was obviously happening between the two of them. My skin itched at the thought.
“You gonna be here when I get home?” She asked me before I could say anything at all, which broke my fucking heart, because Rosie was so quick to add to her question, if only to make it seem as though it had been something other that it was, “You know, ‘cause Dad’s talking to the school about what happened yesterday… So I just figured you might wanna hear about it when I got back.”
“Of course I do, Z.” I promised in one hasty reply, already moving to dry my hands before I could even really think about it. “Of course.” I repeated as I made my way over to her, smiling warmly when she met me halfway. “It’ll all be just fine, you hear me?” I murmured to her the second I let myself get swept up in one of her gentle hugs, “Your Dad will sort it all and I’ll be here waiting to hear about it the second you get home, okay?”
She was quiet for a long moment before she just whispered, “Swear it?”
My eyes shuttered closed and I buried a sad smile in the top of her head, already reaching out to lock my pinky with hers. “On my life.” I swore quietly, forcing myself to match the wry grin she wore when she pulled away to peer down at our interlocked fingers. Rosie giggled lightly, choosing to swing our arms back and forth.
I shook my hand in return, wobbling the pair of our limbs ever so slightly, before a slight cough gained our attention. I looked up whilst Z spun around on her heel to find Marshall stood waiting just outside of the doorway, a hazy shadow crossing over the bridge of his nose as he toyed with the set of keys he had in his hand. 
His voice was all too soft when he spoke, eyes zeroed in on his daughter, “Time to go, bean.”
It took everything in me then to look away from him and over to the clock stationed on the far wall, letting Rosie’s hand slip from mine after I gave it a small squeeze. “He’s right.” I sighed lightly, “I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”
She was already peering back up at me when I looked over and so I wasn’t too startled by the sudden embrace she wrapped me up in before she hastily made her way towards the front door. 
The quiet which settled in after her wake forced my gaze to return to the man who had yet to follow, his eyes faltering between my own before he dipped his chin in a barely there nod, a gesture which spoke volumes as he turned to leave.
Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 In school!! Sorryyyyy didn’t mean to ignore u Was out late and passed out At lunch now, promise to call later xxxxx Love u don’t miss me too much:))
I actually wanted to wring the kid’s neck. She was such a stress inducer that I was sure to head back home to her covered in hives come this point. I mean, where did she get off on making me worry like that? Especially after all that had gone down, all that she had kept from me. And with Rosie last night too, her entire situation having flooded my mind with memories of the past.
Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 You’re the actual antichrist I swear Where the hell have you been Lotts?? I’ve been worried sick just waiting for a text or a call, did your phone just die? Or did your charger break again? I swear I’m flying home if you don’t call me the second you step out of those school gates
Or you know, maybe sooner if things with Marshall carried on.
I sighed at the burst of adrenaline which had rushed and drained from me in a too short moment, before I tossed my phone down onto the couch I’d taken to sprawling on, a plethora of notes and pages dotted all around me. 
I figured it was at least one less thing to worry about now though, even if everything going on with Lottie was still a rather large issue at hand. I wanted to scream about it all actually. But currently, my biggest problem was this song. And maybe the man who was set to return in the time between now and the moment Rosie got out of school. 
Because see, I had a small hunch that Marshall was probably going to avoid me for as long as he possibly could, which would end up being the very second his daughter danced back through that door.
The thought had me groaning again, unhappy with how everything was turning out, as well as the lyrics that I just couldn’t get to sound quite right. See, I hadn’t been outright lying to Z when I’d claimed that I had an idea for a new song. Being unable to sleep truly worked wonders on the psyche and could send your imaginative thoughts into a whole other realm.
But still, I was struggling to get it all to fall into place, the verse sounding much more like a bridge and the chorus still lacking something. Even so, it was promising. That much I could tell. Only thing was, I was stuck on whether or not it was going to end up on Marshall’s scrapheap or my next album. 
It was what I was here for, wasn’t it? To write, to collaborate. Even after we’d gotten a little bit side tracked the last few days. But I just didn’t know how much he wanted from me, we hadn’t really spoken about it or hashed over all the gritty details. And yet, even after last night and this morning, I was still here trying to pull something together for him to come back and hear. Even if I was sure that he’d can it the second he did.
“You look like someone just shit on your chest.”
I startled at the voice, flailing a tad to get a better look at the figure which now loomed behind the sofa, but it seemed as though the scare had been enough to send all my hard work flying. 
Three things happened in the next moment: I gaped, frowned, and then ultimately topped it all off with a rather hefty huff, turning back to grab at the pages I’d just been scrawling on with my tongue tucked between my teeth.
“Shat on my chest?” I answered back in the same dull monotone he’d just used, face screwing up slightly as I stretched to collect the last page that had slipped its way further down the sofa. “You know that expression intimately, or just guessing?”
A breathy snort sounded just as the page I’d been reaching for was snatched up before me. My gaze snapped upwards in narrowed slits to scowl at him, unimpressed by the action, before I held out a hand towards him, silently asking for it back.
Marshall took no note. Instead his eyes flitted over the red ink I’d been working on, reading it at a mile a minute. He handed it back without another word said and then rounded the sofa to fall into the seat beside me. 
He had picked up a couple drinks whilst he’d been out, it seemed. Just a couple of coffee’s from what I could first tell and so I wrinkled my nose at the obnoxious smell they let off whilst I settled the final page back into the pile I’d since formed.
“Figured you’d be gone longer.” I couldn’t help but mention whilst he settled in, taking a slow deliberate sip from one of the brown paper cups before he slid the other across the coffee table in my direction, an action to which I raised a brow to.
He shrugged languidly as though nothing had occurred between us earlier, like he had the entire world at his feet actually, and then gathered up the pile, flicking through the pages without much care. “Dealt with that kid and his shitty-ass father, stopped off to get somethin’ to eat when Paul called, then came home.” He quipped promptly enough, leaning forward in his seat to rest his cup back down on the table and shuffle the first few pages between the hands he now had resting on his knees, “This new?”
I flicked my tongue over my front teeth, harsh enough to feel it drag and keep my head from imploading, but careful enough that it didn’t bleed– just yet, I allowed myself to add on. Because honestly, if I had to refrain myself much more than I currently was it sure was going to. 
“Yes.” I quipped shortly, picking up my phone to slide through the brief voice notes I’d made the previous night in bed and then again when I’d stepped out of the shower this morning. “It was just something I kept on replaying, a little melody.” I explained if only so that I wouldn’t allow myself the space to start pestering him with questions and his sudden switch up, because what was with that? “Figured I’d just get it down whether it was good or not.”
He grunted out a hum.
I gritted my teeth.
“What happened at the school then?” I asked in a mutter, feigning nonchalance even though my eyes were already trained on him reading my words and the fact that I was now dying to know what he’d been on about when referencing this kid’s ‘shitty-ass father’. 
His eyes were slow in the way they sloped over to me, my own darting back down to my phone if only so that I could pretend to meet his stare. He looked away again a second later, rolling a single shoulder. “Some teacher caught the shove yesterday, principle was already waitin’ for me when I pulled up.”
Surprised, I blinked. “What, he dragged both you and the kid’s dad in?”
“She. Misogyny has no place in the modern world, Elia.” Marshall corrected all too easily with that curt smile of his that he was so used to using. Typically it would have had me chuckling, but now it just pissed me off further, especially with the use of my full name.
Instead of reacting though, something I supposed he was aiming for there, I rolled my eyes. “She, what the fuck ever. What happened?”
Marshall leaned back in his seat with a quiet huff, “Guy got what was comin’ to him, fuckin’ wrung him and his kid out. Bitch figured he could say a bunch of shit about me and my daughter and I’d just let him?” He blew out a small titter then, though his evident smile was grim, “Bastard’s jus’ lucky I didn’t throw him through one of them windows. Could pay someone more than what he earns in a year to chop his fuckin’ hands off for me.”
I didn’t know how to take his words, all I knew was that a strange emotion had settled over me upon hearing them, almost uncurling the coil that my shoulders had wound themselves into. 
Still, I licked at my lower lip and reached out to take the other cup he’d pushed down onto the table, pleasantly surprised by the lack of coffee it offered. Infact, the sweet taste of chocolate started to chip away at the icy irritation that had been brewing since early this morning. 
“So, no lawsuits?” I murmured over the brim, pulling up a leg to get more comfortable on the sofa, seeing as my little makeshift workspace had now been overtaken. 
Marshall’s eyes caught on me in that next moment and, stupidly, I wasn’t put off by the way they were so clearly examining me. The grit of his jaw softened after a minute and so I figured he’d found whatever it was he was searching so intently for. “A fine for parkin’ in a no-stop zone. But nah, no lawsuits this time ‘round.”
One corner of my mouth ticked upwards impulsively, though I was quick to smother it behind the paper cup, feigning a sigh instead, “And here I thought I’d get to witness a real court in session.”
Em didn’t hide his own smile at my words, his eyes gleaming in a way that gave more away than he realised. You see me, they said. 
I supposed I did.
Working on music had always been a way for me to channel or process my emotions and thoughts, whether it was when writing or just messing around. It was possibly the reason as to why I was constantly in a bubble of it, when working, when cooking, driving, when I showered or got ready for bed. It was just always there, a constant companion in a way. 
Em seemed to be torn from the same cloth. In the days I’d spent with him and Rosie, I’d gotten to understand that in a whole new way, he played music almost as much as I did, even if it was barely audible, I could still see the way it settled him in the drum of his hand or the tapping of his foot. I guessed it was why we worked so well together, just in the studio of course.
Somehow we managed to leave whatever resentment and odd feelings we’d been experiencing at the door to the downstairs studio when we’d moved from the living room to get a start on writing again. The song I’d been working on earlier had been pushed to the side so that Marshall could show me the few verses and ideas he’d had for the song we’d been messing with previously, the same one he’d called Dre and practically fawned over.
“I figure it’ll open the album.” He explained from where he’d wheeled his way over to the sound deck, scribbling over the top of it with the pen he kept chewing on subconsciously. “Set the tone, then we can just work around it.” 
I hummed noncommittally, rereading the chorus I’d jotted down and since toyed with. “Could have a big voice on it,” I suggested to him, “Like, it sort of feels like a symphony in the way it builds, I reckon a few people could be jumping over one another for a chance at it.”
When I was met by an immediate silence, the scratch of his pen having paused, the rustle of his papers too. I dragged my eyes up and away from my own page to cast him a sparing glance, but was evidently surprised to find him already watching me. Rather intensely.
“What?” I queried, dropping my hand away from where I’d been rolling my lower lip between my fingertips.
He levelled me with a blank look, “You’re fuckin’ stupid if you reckon I’ma ask anyone but you to sing on this.”
My brow furrowed, before I raised my hand in a placating gesture. “It was just a suggestion– a good one too. Song won’t get as much recognition if I’m on it.”
That blank look shifted so quickly that I could barely even blink before it morphed into something which visibly portrayed his inner irritation. “You think I give a fuck about shit like that? I care about how it sounds, not how much it can make.”
Rolling my eyes, I just shook my head and looked back down at the marked margain, not entertaining him with a reaction. I knew I was right in my words and hadn’t meant anything by it, he could take it how he liked for all I cared. 
He didn’t appear to enjoy that though, seeing as he dropped the pen down onto the deck with a clatter to push himself to his feet and walk closer to the couch I was still perched on. “I mean that shit. What, you think I was jus’ gone push you aside? You think that little of me? Last I checked, this was your fuckin’ song.”
His voice was littered with misplaced exasperation and the way he chose to tower over me, even if he was still stood a foot and a half away, showed it too. He was looking for a fight, had been waiting for it, gearing up. I realised then, rather belatedly, that he wasn’t too good at holding onto his emotions. Sure, he could wait and bite his tongue when he chose to, but those feelings he had only seemed to bubble further the longer he held them in, as though they were stewing in the acid of his stomach, waiting to burn through.
I could really see it now. He was antsy, overassessing, overthinking this entire situation. I could almost smell the unease he’d been simmering in, and I knew it was all down to what had transpired the night before. Only now, he had a real excuse to bite back at me. Rosie wasn’t around to hear or interrupt, and me? I was done being impassive. 
“Yeah, Em. Of course,” I drawled with little to no care as to how I was practically scoffing at his words, “I think you’re an egotistical prick who just wants to steal my work, wasn’t as though I was the one to suggest getting someone else on it or anything.”
He didn’t take too kindly to the sarcasm. 
“You’re awful fuckin’ mouthy for someone who claims they a nobody, you know that?” He sniped back with enough heat to have my back immediately straightening, “All high and mighty, that it? Like you can do no fuckin’ wrong.”
My mouth fell open because– what?
“Just waltz in here,” He continued on in his tirade, “Into my goddamn life and jus’ throw your opinions out, then expect me to lap it all up. Well I ain’t your fuckin’ lapdog and I’m sick of listenin’ to you tell me what to do and how to do it.” He shot out, casting me away with a gesture of his hand which seemed so pointless, what with the way his unblinking gaze was still hooked on me. 
“Me?” I bristled, my voice high in the face of his outright irony as I stared up at him. “You brought me here! You! You were the one to call me, Marshall. You were the one to ask me to collaborate. To come stay with you here. To invite me into your fucking goddamn life!” I mimicked callowly, “So don’t go throwing that shit back in my face just ‘cause it's blown up in yours now.”
“The fuck’s that meant to mean?” Marshall seethed, ridgid in his stance as I forced myself to my feet too, done with sitting below a man so full of anger. 
I laughed bitterly and shook my head at him. “I don’t know what the fuck last night was, but since it happened you’ve been acting like a proper dick about it. An even bigger one than I’d been expecting, too.” I told him plainly, pointing towards his chest as I tried to bite back my gall smile, “And everyone else might be fine soothing your ego and apologising to appease whatever fucking delusions you’ve conjured up in that thick head of yours, but I’m not gonna let a grown man mess with my head and make out like I’ve done something wrong or acted inappropriately. ‘Cause look, I’m sorry if I offended your sensibilities, but again, you’re old enough to fuckin’ be able to work through your own feelings. I can’t be expected to read your mind!”
My chest was heaving with all the anger that fueled my words and I only realised a second too late just how close we’d grown in the short space that sat between his heated question and my reply. 
I glanced up into his eyes, that familiar blue gone, now swimming in dark hues. They flickered between my own and for a split second, I wondered what he saw. He was breathing just as harshly as I was, lit by the intense conclusion we’d been pulled into. 
It was make or break, I figured. 
But then he met me halfway and suddenly I was drowning in him. His hands in my hair, tugging, my fingers digging into his sides. It was unlike the night before, where his breath had been teasing, ghosting over my skin in baited wait. His words soft and genuine. Now it was just sparks flying off–  only not in that shitty Disney magic sort of way, but instead it felt like steel being forged in fire. 
I couldn’t concentrate on the way he was biting at me, teeth clashing as he forced me to expose my neck, me responding in the only way I knew how, dragging his lip between my incisors and pulling. Tugging. Hoping it hurt.
He walked us backwards, feet encasing mine, drawing me up against the nearest wall. My fingers dug in harder, feeling the muscle of his torso jump beneath me. He knocked my head back and we both heard the collision it made with the concrete there but neither of us seemed to care. The sting was enough for me to sink my nails into the skin of his neck and he retaliated by dropping his mouth to my jaw, leaving me gasping at the ceiling that sat above us, pulling him closer even as his own hands started to explore.
“Bastard.” I blew out, voice hitching when his tongue circled around my pulse point.
He answered me by nipping at the skin there, not enough to bruise but to mark, dragging his mouth lower and lower, tugging at the hem of my top until he bit harshly into the collarbone he’d exposed. I choked on my next breath, clawing at his nape until he soothed the sting with a featherlight kiss. 
I dragged his face back up to meet mine, his jaw in the palms of my hands as I knocked my nose against his, panting against his open mouth, not even questioning how I’d gotten this worked up by just his teasing. Because that was what this was, a game. The opener before the real show could begin. He seemed to know it too, smirking briefly at me before he slotted his mouth back over mine, dragging his thumb down my cheek to pool in the small dip there.
My hands fell too, they clung to whichever part of him they could find, but it wasn’t enough. It felt as though everything I’d been feeling, every emotion I’d experienced, not just over the past twelve hours, but during our phone calls, our texts, and the days I’d spent with him here, were pouring out of me. From crevasses that I didn't even know could exist until then.
He pushed and he shoved, greedy in the task of getting what he wanted, but I was just as bad. Just as eager. The moments over the past week where I’d lingered too long, looked too intently, were all making sense now. Silently, I hoped I left my own mark on him, something that was enough to have his mind lingering on me instead. 
I wondered then if he’d known this had been coming. If all his irritation had just been pent up tension. If he’d been angered by the fact he’d given himself away last night.
But then he pulled away. 
My eyelids fluttered.
His thumb dropped to swipe over my bottom lip. It settled there for a second, then two. 
It withdrew, smeared in a sheer coat of spit. I watched on, jaw agape, as he lifted it up to meet his own mouth, wiping it clean in one swift suck all whilst he stared back at me, his eyes taunting. Mouth menacing. 
My next breath escaped me in a silent shudder.
His eyes, dilated and glimmering, flickered between my own. Mirrored arousal looming over us like a thick fog, before he took another step back.
Away.
Retreating.
Only, was that what it was?
I watched, baited by his stance. By the devious look his gaze gave way to. The rest of his features were solemn almost, so blank that it was practically daunting. But his eyes…
They told a different story.
The studio was so quiet I doubted the thought that he couldn’t hear my heavy pants, or the way I swallowed around the lump in my throat. I waited, pondering over his next move, what he might say, before he tilted his head.
The motion caught me by surprise, ever slight as it was, before he spoke, “Times up.”
My face must have ploughed through a dozen different emotions in that brief pause, but confusion won out, head shooting to the right the second he decided to move, crossing the short distance which stood between him and the door.
“Z’s home.”
Ah.
Fuck.
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dronebiscuitbat · 7 months ago
Text
Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 7)
The one thing Uzi did not mind about her transformation was her ability to fly alongside N during scavenging missions. He often had to slow down (thrusters will always be faster than manual flying), but it didn't seem to bother him in the least, especially when she was sharing her favorite songs with him over short-range.
And no, it didn't all consist of Nightcore thank you very much. She was sharing the ones she thought he would like.
Of course, N liked all of them, so she probably could blare Nightcore at full volume and he'd like it, but she was still keeping it mostly mainstream, mostly because he seemed to like singing lyrics if he knew them, which was fun!
Because he was good at it.
He nailed nearly every note so long as he was familiar with the song, and it was gorgeous, his voice smooth as butter and just high enough to reach the minor keys without sounding off.
And yes, it did make her core flutter like it was full of a million butterflies, but that was besides the point.
“Hang on, lemme give you this one.” She sent another over to him, her wings flapping above her as they both glided comfortably.
“How many do you have?!” N asked excitedly, although it was definitely in the sense that he was eager to hear all of them and not that he wanted her to stop.
“Years worth of emotional repression leads to years worth of saved angst, what can I say?” She replied, poking a little fun at herself, she pushed ahead as he opened the audio file, scanning the ground for any parts she needed.
This one was a little angry sounding, but the guitar was nice, and there was a woman singing in the background that he wished didn't sound so sad, but it was pretty, at the very least.
“Do you want me to just give you my playlist? I've kinda just been sending you singles from it this whole time.” She fell back in line with him, wings beating above her, wow, he never realized how strong they looked before.
“Yes!” He beamed, being ecstatic to listen to more, it was leagues better than anything he'd ever heard play at the manor, plus he felt as if he was learning quite a bit about her just through her saved songs.
He noted the complete lack of love songs, there were plenty of breakup songs, but it didn't seem that Uzi had either never felt that way about anyone or she may have just not liked the sappiness of them. He wasn't sure, he was kinda hoping for the latter, she deserved someone to make her happy, surely?
“Here. But we can't spend all night doing this, it not really what we're here for…” She sent him a massive folder that was going to take a bit to install, in the meantime. They both flew upwards, trying to spot things from higher up.
“No worries, what are we looking for?” He asked, just replaying the same songs he'd already listened to on repeat, just at a lower volume.
“A hardware store preferably, that explosion melted all my railguns internals… stupid J… pain in my ass even in death.” She added, sounding bitter. He didn't argue.
“Hmm, I think I saw one last night. I can send you the map data?” He offered, not noticing how closely they were flying, he could feel each beat of her wings. The urge to wrap his tail around her hit him suddenly. She wasn't in danger. What was this about?
“Sweet! Yes!” She gave him a thumbs up, and so he sent the map data to her, and she went silent looking it over intently.
And here he was admiring how she could intently focus of his map data while also flying near perfectly again, if he ever needed to revist a location he had to stop flying lest he hit something. Not her though, her mind was so lightening fast. Not just in this, but in everything.
Man his best freind was so cool. And pretty.
She… was pretty. But that was random.
“Yeah, you did pass one, this way!” She did pause in the air for a moment, but only to turn to him and make sure he was following, he nodded, letting her lead him.
Her tail swirled behind her as she kept herself aloft, it was graceful in it's own way, since she had to think more about consciously flying then he did, and so she ended up doing more spins and tricks in the air just by flying normally. It was almost like watching a dance, albeit a bat-like one.
“We're here.” He heard her shout before diving, and he followed without question, landing beside her with a metallic thud in contrast with her graceful perfect landing.
Okay, what the heck was going on with him today?
“Anything specific?” He asked, dusting the snow off himself before it melted and refroze to his chassis. Ignoring the random intrusive thoughts that seemed to be increasing in frequency and intensity.
“Small screws, wiring, oh! And capacitors! Lots and lots of capacitors.” He knew at least what two of those things were at what they looked like, so he nodded and followed her into the blasted out store after beating the snow out of his cap.
Her tail whipped around into a flashlight, pointing it at the rotten shelves and the icesicles hanging above them, a skeleton was at the counter, still in uniform, and still in the position of looking bored.
“Split up? I'll look for the capacitors, you get the screws and wiring?” She turned to him, with the absence of others she always seemed to smile, he gave her a thumbs up and beamed her one right back, before turning and wandering to the nearest shelf, leaving them both alone with their thoughts.
Uzi was already searching deep in the electronic section, trying to find capacitors that weren't completely broken or frozen, with a task at hand her mind was blessedly empty for once, enough that she was humming absent-mindedly whatever song had gotten trapped in her head.
She didn't sing, she didn't like her voice and thought it was too deep for most songs, but humming was fine, if it wasn't done in front of other people. Robo-God forbid someone hear her not being aggro for ten seconds. But here she was alone, and N was on the other side of the store, he couldn't hear her.
And even if he could, it was N. He wouldn't ever make fun of her for anything.
She smiled. At this point trying to deny her feelings was pointless, he made her feel so special, so wonderful. And he was so happy to spend any time with her, whether it be listening to her music or watching a movie or agreeing to visit a baby with her. He was always down, loving every second.
It rubbed off on her, she found herself smiling more, liking her life more, liking herself more. She was beginning to feel less like a freak and more like a person, all thanks to the lovable goofball she called her best freind.
And she wanted to call him more, connect with him more, but… she couldn't be certain he felt the same way. He was always so loving but he was like that with everyone, he cared, and that's just who he was.
So nothing he did proved he liked her like that. Romanticly. Never in a million years did she ever think she would be longing for someone, or even have a crush in the first place, but here she was, admitting to herself that… she was in love. Ew
But at the same time, the way he had been looking at her in the nursery, with a small smile on his face and his eyes digitally half-lidded. He looked… almost like he wanted to kiss her.
But that had to have been her imagination, he'd asked if she felt better right before, maybe he'd just been concerned.
With a victorious gasp she found a whole box of preserved capacitors and quickly stashed them in her bag before going off and trying to find the boy in question, core full of butterflies but also very very heavy.
N had finally finished downloading Uzi's monster of a playlist and was skimming through it while picking up his second box of screws, he doubted she needed this many, but being an overachiever never got him in trouble before.
He fingered the wiring he had in his pocket, feeling satisfied that he'd completed his task and yet still felt anything but.
He was… confused.
Uzi was his friend, his best friend. And yet the more he thought about her the lighter his core got, in a way that was new to him. Well no, that was it wasn't it? It wasn't new.
It was just attached to a new person.
But… he didn't have a crush on Uzi did he? He could form sentences just fine around her, he wasn't nervous or artificially sweaty. He just wanted to be close, to protect her. To be there when she needed him. That wasn't romantic. It was protective! Like all friends should be!
And yet he still felt unsatisfied, like he was missing something.
“Hey! Did you find what we needed?” He heard her before he saw her, bounding up to him with a crooked smirk, her tail twitching behind her and her wings folded against her back. She was cute…
He shook off his thoughts again.
“Yeah! Here!” He he presented the screws and the wire to her with a smile, his tail twitching as her hand grazed his as she took them, no that wasn't a spark you're imagining things.
“Thanks!” You ready to head back? It's going to be morning soon.” She asked, punching his shoulder playfully, a small laugh left his mouth.
“Yeah! And we can listen to music together on the way back!”
“Sure buddy.”
And with that they took off, commenting on songs and cracking jokes about the stupid ones, flying high to get home faster. With each minute he felt himself relax, whatever confusing mess his thoughts were causing right now didn't matter, they were laughing, and she was smiling. He would figure it out later.
“Is… is this song about a potato?” He asked slowly, causing her to snort before devolving into a fit of laughter.
“Y-yeah? I thought it was funny, and I rigged the teachers lounge to play it on repeat once.”
N didn't want to ask why, but he felt that it was a very Uzi thing to do.
“Hey, I might need to crash at your place tonight. Charge is low and I don't wanna pass out on the way home.” As she said that, a little low battery symbol appeared at the top right corner of her visor, showing she wasn't lying.
“Sleepover!” He shouted, making her smile again, he really liked her smile…
“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but her words lacked any sort of bite. There was a brief comfortable silence before;
“Oh… this one's kinda sad.” His face fell at little as he listened. An orchestral swell being out of place in the rest of the playlist.
I am tired of this dream….
Will it ever end for me?
“Sorry, I don't have a lot of happy ones that aren't also sarcastic…” She admitted sheepishly, she probably should find happier songs now that she was thinking about it. She felt happier now, what was the harm? So long that it was only her and N that would ever hear them.
I don't have the will to know…
Can you help me see?
“Oh! Duet!” He hummed happily, that fact alone seemingly making him feel better about it.
Let my body keep you warm…
Let my essence be your breeze.
Oh. This was a love song, and a rather longing one. He looked over Uzi's playlist, this one was added only recently. About three months ago, huh that was around when prom happened.
Can you hear me calling?
Please look out for meeee…
“N! Look!” Uzi shouted and he looked up, the gas giant was being eclipsed by Copper-9s barren moon, causing the entire night sky to be lit up in a burnt umber red. But he'd be lying if he said that was what caught his attention.
Can you set me free?
Will you take my soul away?
Uzi was silhouetted in the light perfectly, sending warm oranges and reds bouncing off her features like she was gazing at a roaring fire, she was hung in the air, snowflakes falling slowly around her, the light turning them to embers dancing in the air. She was smiling, her hands reaching out to touch one of the dancing flames.
Casting me in cold
Bury me in bones
Rest eternallyyyyyy…
He felt all the moisture in his mouth evaporate on the spot, and any further thought through his processors die. If flying wasn't an automatic process, he would have fallen from the sky in shock.
She looked beautiful.
Will you take me home?
Can we see the moon again?
Dancing in the dark
Till we fall apart
I can't end this dream...
Next ->
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lookingfts · 1 month ago
Text
My totally unqualified opinions of Wicked
Well I went to Wicked for JB and he did not disappoint. That man is fucking charming. My mom swooned for him and now wants to watch Bridgerton (she's never seen it).
I think most of the scenes he was in are things I've already seen in trailers or BTS. Which is to say, I would have been happy to watch him a whole lot more. But every scene he's in, I absolutely loved him. I don't think the role of Fiyero shows much of his emotional range and depth (I mean, compared to what we've seen him do as Anthony), but I think that's just due to the actual amount of time he's in it. But obviously he sounds amazing in the musical numbers, I loved watching him sing and dance and enjoying this other side of him. And his smolder is just unmatched.
Some light spoilers, but not much. Other random thoughts:
Costumes, 1000. I wanted all the clothes, especially Michelle Yeoh's coats.
Set design, very cool. Knowing how much of that was practical made me enjoy it more. Everything feels pretty immersive.
I'm not a musical theater fan, and I guess every musical has those songs that are like...eh, I could skip this. But I loved Dancing Through Life and Defying Gravity, and a few of the other smaller numbers.
It was way too goddamn long, but so is every big-budget movie these days. I think a lot of what could have been cut were musical numbers, but of course you have to include them if you're trying to adapt a popular show. And a few other scenes that just felt long. Overall though I thought the pacing was good, there was just a stretch in the third act that I got a little restless.
Cynthia, holy shit. I got chills several times when she sang. Also, as my mom said, Elphaba just cool and you would want to hang out with her.
Cynthia and Ariana have great chemistry together. Galinda is way over the top but she made me laugh quite a bit. If the central thread is their friendship, I think they really make that work.
Side characters are all great but most of them have so little screen time that they don't feel integral to the story yet - perhaps in part 2.
So, if you want to see it, I think it's very enjoyable! People clapped in my theater. I was happy I went. Will definitely see Part 2, and would probably rewatch Part 1, I imagine there are a lot of details I missed on first watch.
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writing-whump · 4 months ago
Text
Nausea rising
Isaiah goes to tell Arnie what happened. Emotional comfort. Gets nausous from the nerves. Includes emeto.
"So, uhm..." Isaiah cleared his throat awkwardly, which had Matthew and Seline immediately turning their heads towards him.
"Are you feeling sick?"
"Everything okay, man?"
Isaiah grimaced. They said it at the same time. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I was just wondering...have you guys told Hector and Arnie?"
Matthew frowned and looked at Seline in an accusatory way. "No, we didn't, cause someone here was against it."
Seline shrugged, seemingly unbothered by his tone. "I thought it would be best not to stress you out with them around and panicking."
Isaiah nodded from his place on the sofa. "Thank you."
He was huddled in blankets, his feet in Matthew's lap while Seline sat next to him. Her hand was always on him these days, though he suspected she was just checking his pulse.
Matthew scoffed. "Oh boy. If anyone wants to know what I think, this is a bad idea. They should know."
"I don't think it's necessary," Isaiah said, squirming in his seat and looking at the opposite wall. "I'm okay, why should we worry them?"
"If you don't tell them, I will," Matthew announced.
Isaiah's eyes widened. "What? Why?"
"Cause it's just wrong. And I'm not gonna have another person biting my head off cause you wanna keep unhealthy secrets." Matthew shuddered. Hector's way of doing it would be a lot less metaphorical.
Isaiah looked at Seline. "Help me out here?"
Seline leaned back, hands crossed on her chest. "I agree with Matthew. That wasn't the right time, but they should know."
Isaiah grumbled under his nose. Seline could rationalise his reluctance if she decided to. No fair. "I just don't want them to freak out."
Seline's eyes softened a little. "Then don't keep it a secret. Tell them openly and calmly, show them it's a manageable issue and that you are fine. If you don't make a big deal out if it by hiding, they won't either."
...
Isaiah could not argue against that reasoning. Waiting just a bit longer for a good day - he hadn't thrown up, felt dizzy or stumbled once - he made his way to Hector's apartment.
Matthew and Seline wanted to come with him, but he didn't really want to draw the wrath of his brothers on the two.
As a compromise, he took a taxi to their place. No suit this time, but that suited him, since he was always cold. And the long sleeves of his shirt and cardigan masked the bruises on his arms. "Stupid blood-thinners," he muttered as he stopped in front of the door.
His heartbeat picked up immediately, beating painfully against his ribcage. The pressure resonated through his whole chest.
Stress making it worse was such a great diagnosis for him. Isaiah had always been a stresser. Just really good at hiding it.
He took a deep breath and rang the bell. Should he have knocked? Walked right in? No, that wasn't polite. Even around his brothers, that was just too unexpected.
Arnie opened the door, hair tousled and rubbing his eyes sleepily. That was strange, it was only 8 o'clock in the evening.
"Hey..." Isaiah said, voice trialing away as he forgot everything he planned to say.
Arnie stared at him in confusion, before his eyes suddenly widened. "Oh. Hey. Hector is running late today. If you want to see him-?"
"I came to see you. Both of you."
Arnie's face turned sour and he leaned away with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah? After two weeks, you remembered?"
They stared at each other in tense silence, before Isaiah cleared his throat. "Ehmm, can I...can I come in?"
Arnie scoffed, but turned inside. "Whatever."
Isaiah winced and followed after him. That wasn't an ideal start.
"Countless messages and texts. Your phone went straight to voicemail like you had it turned off. Also a great time to figure out neither of us have contacts on Matthew or Seline." Arnie went into the kitchen for a glass of water and then right through into the living room.
The blond sat down at the sofa, carding his hand through his hair to put them in place. "Any cool explanations? If you hadn't shown up this week, Hector would have raided your place."
Isaiah ended up braced against the dining table with his back, facing Arnie. Hopefully, him leaning against it wasn't betraying how woozy he suddenly felt. He waited all day to see he was symptomless but his baby brother's rant could put him back like this?
"Yeah, that was what I wanted to talk to you about."
"You better," Arnie said, chin lifted and green eyes narrowing at him. "I mean, maybe I'm overreacting. You can say that if you want. But what was this? Some kind of cool, top secret Executioner mission no one could know about?"
Isaiah shook his head. "I'm sorry I didn't call."
"Oh he is sorry," Arnie huffed. "You were sorry when you left 5 years ago too. No warning, no goodbye, just poof. And then you were sorry, but it had to be done."
"I wasn't going to-"
"And you will have bulletproof reasons, I'm sure and we will all feel so thankful to you," Arnie continued, sipping on his cold water drink.
Somewhere along the angry rumbling, Isaiah's tired senses registered something far more alarming though. There was an edge of shakiness to the words and a sort of shiny look to Arnie's eyes.
The hurt was what propelled him forward to the couch. "Arnie..."
Arnie angled his body away from his, hugging himself close. His lips were trembling. "Just- could you just give me a damn warning next time? Just an SMS that you will be going or something so I know?"
"I'm sorry," Isaiah said. Arnie had never truly complained about Isaiah leaving. He had not asked him questions or doubted his intentions. Finding out the truth through Hector, Isaiah didn't see his first or second reaction. He had no idea what about the ordeal hurt him the most.
Isaiah couldn't really think through his heart hammering in his ears, so he acted on instincts. He wrapped Arnie in a hug, pulling him against his side. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
Arnie tensed at the touch, arms still like a barrier between them. But then he breathed out and sank against Isaiah's chest, forehead first. His breaths came shaky and quick as he fought down little sobs.
"It's alright. I'm right here. Not leaving again." Isaiah said, wincing and adding, "never again if I have any say in it."
Arnie sniffled and trembled, but slowly calmed himself down, showing no signs of moving. "What-what's up with that outfit, anyway? That sweater doesn't match the shirt at all."
Isaiah chuckled, turning back to rest his head against the backrest. It was nice sitting against Arnie, he was warming him up. "Yeah."
Arnie leaned his own head against Isaiah's neck, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot more content. "Hmmm...you lost weight too. New eyebags. Have you been overworking?"
Isaiah shook his head gently, Arnie's blond curls ticking his chin. "If anything I have been resting too much. But there is a good reason why I wasn't picking up, I swear." Other then that his eyes hurt too much to look at the screen and he had trouble concentrating on reading.
"...and you feel warm too." Arnie pulled back, scanning Isaiah up and down. "You have a fever? Are you feeling okay?"
Isaiah gave him a crooked smile. Still that obvious? Maybe this wasn't the best day after all. "I'm okay. There is something you should know though."
Arnie frowned, his hand suddenly against Isaiah's cheek. "You are definitely feverish."
Isaiah rolled his eyes. "That's fine. It's normal. I have meds for this."
"Are you sick?"
"Not really. Or I guess not quite. It's just..." A small burp interrupted his sentence. His heartbeat picked up again, goosebumps running up his arm and neck. Whenever this happened, the nausea shot upwards. His lungs seemed to have shrank together. "I'm fine. Promise this is all handled. And I'm not contagious, so you don't have to worry."
"That was really not on my mind." Arnie slid away on the sofa. "What happened? You are clearly not well. Did you have a fight with your pack? Do you need to stay over, that's why you are so late? What's going on?"
"I'm okay, I swear. I came to explain to you-" His stomach twisted and Isaiah could tell if this was his normal case of stress sickness or the constant mild medication nausea worsening because his heart was messing him up.
Seline forced some emergency medication into his pocket. It was probably weird enough he was wearing so many layers with how warm the air was.
His chest was burning. He was so close. He could just say it out loud. Heart condition. Surgery. Alright now.
Isaiah put his legs down on the floor, a wave of lightheadedness washing over him. His stomach cramped and contracted in itself and his breath hitched from the pressure. His mouth flooded with saliva.
The nausea level rose up so quickly he wasn't sure if he wasn't going to throw up right there, without moving a muscle to prevent it.
"Isaiah? You just turned green."
Isaiah got up shakily, the nausea sliding down his back and around his spine like a snake. "Could you give me a minute? I-I'll be right back."
He headed to the bathroom, the vertigo coming and leaving so suddenly it blurred his vision for a bit. But he found the right door even half-blind.
He couldn't get down to the toilet as quickly as he needed or he would make the dizziness worse. Instead he leaned against the sink, fingers curling around the cold granite as the nausea rose again. Like water filling his nose, like he was suddenly too full...
An involuntary gag had him heaving over the sink, a splash of acidic water making its way out.
"Jesus! Okay, okay, we are doing this." Of course Arnie followed him in, his hand planted at the center of Isaiah's back. "You are okay. Let it up."
Isaiah didn't really have a choice. His chest burned and the world twirled as he burped towards the white sink, the soup and the tea from his dinner splattering all over it.
He spat out at the taste, panting for breath. Arnie rubbed his back up and down slowly, eyes wide with concern.
And then even more so when Isaiah swayed, grabbing onto Arnie for support.
"Whoa, Isaiah, what-"
"'s okay. Help me....sit down." His chest was doing that wheezing sound again, the pressure rising so much he gagged over his lap, but managed to suppress the hot liquid back down his throat.
Not realizing when he shut his eyes, he forced them open. He was propped up againd the bathtub on the floor. Arnie's hands were wrapped tightly around his arm. The blond was bravely quiet and calm for how pale and spooked he looked.
"...All better now."
"Hell you are. Still dizzy?"
"A bit. Just gonna sit here and it'll pass."
Arnie swallowed heavily, his grip on Isaiah's arm grounding him to reality. The room was spinning in a way that should have worried Isaiah but after the last two weeks was so familiar he didn't have it in him to panick.
A sudden burp bubbled up, nasty and wet at the end. Isaiah shut his mouth tight. It wasn't really that his stomach was upset, it was the combination of his heart not getting enough oxygen and his chest hurting that caused the vomiting fit.
"Will you tell me what's wrong now?" Arnie said in a small voice.
"Yeah. Just a minute." Isaiah shivered. The floor was cold. "This is harder...then I expected," he said with a small smile. He wanted to put on a brave face, but he also came here to be honest. It didn't go well together.
"Don't stress yourself out. There's no hurry." Arnie said with urgency, saying exactly the right thing without knowing everything.
The pressure started to ease up, letting Isaiah exhale and then slump to the side against Arnie. He was so exhausted he couldn't keep his eyes open.
"Is it your stomach or something else? You look like you are in pain," Arnie said into the silence between Isaiah's drawn out relieved breaths.
"You are pretty good at reading me."
"Not that hard today as usual. You are more open. But don't push yourself because of me. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Isaiah nuzzled his cheek against Arnie's shoulder, touched by the concern taking over his brother's curiosity. "No. I'm gonna tell you. I have to tell you." His stomach immediately cramped with a jolt, a burp rushing out.
Isaiah shudderssd at the sound, cradling his stomach gingerly. It was all sloshy and upset now, the adrenaline of the fit draining it of blood flow it needed to do its work.
"Anything I can get you? Anything you need?" Arnie said, tightening his hold on his arm. His voice sounded close to Isaiah's ear.
"...Stay like this? Just a few more minutes."
"Take all the time you need," Arnie assured him, his tone more settled and calm. Isaiah wondered how it became like that so quickly.
33 notes · View notes
swiftllama · 10 months ago
Text
January Compliments ☀️🔍
[Compliments Masterlist]
Hello everyone and welcome to the first Compliments Post of 2024! Hope the year has started off well for you all, and if not, then I hope this post can at least provide a little bit of joy to your day 🫶
We may be only one month in but the boys have been delivering since the very first day 🙌 So let’s get into it shall we! :-
January 2024
Ian’s 2023 Wrap Up
So to start us off, first day of the year and Mr Sunshine was already tugging at our heartstrings with his wrap up of 2023, and who made his 2023 what it was? Well Anthony of course 🥹
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STOP IT! RIGHT NOW! 😩
LIKE WHAT IS THIS??? IM MEANT TO COPE WITH THIS??? HOW???
The fact the WHOLE post is Anthony - from the photos to the caption! EVERY SINGLE PHOTO HAS ANTHONY 😭 Also don’t even get me started on the two unseen photos and the fact they’ve been kept from us till now. How dare 😤 AND the fact the first person he thanked was Anthony! Like yes he’s thanking and appreciating many people with this post but come on now, from the pictures alone it’s clear who made his year. This is just SO SPECIAL! Especially coming from Ian, who isn’t normally a big one for sharing his emotions (I think we’ve seen a change with that recently though), but this is BIG!
Anthony also in return left a sweet comment :-
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“proud of you buddy.”
CRYING 😭 They kill me these two, couldn’t even go one day without being sappy to each other - not that I’m complaining. And as much as I would love to just sit here in this gooeyness, we’ve got a lot to get through so I must move on 🥲
LEGEND OF ZELDA RAP (Flashback)
So they reacted to the classic Legend Of Zelda Rap in this Flashback eps and got a few little compliments thrown in :-
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[discussing the scene of Ian dressed as Link winking at the camera that spawned a viral gif]
Anthony: “That for some reason was a clip that went viral- or a gif that went viral.”
Ian: “Yeah, it’s like horny posters.”
Anthony: “Yeah.”
Ian: “Yeah.”
Anthony: “I see it way too much.”
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[shoutout editor Kortney for this 😆]
Ian: “Gotta say, never looked better.”
Anthony: “That’s true.”
Anthony agrees 😏
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Erin: [asking Ian if he had spicy time in the Link outfit like Anthony said about the Assassin’s Creed outfit in their 2 Truths 1 Lie eps]
Ian: “I did not have spicy time in the Link outfit because that outfit was very tight, there was not much of a range of motion in it.”
Anthony: “Right. Well you could be a pillow princess in that.”
Ian: “I’m not a pillow princess.”
Anthony: “Oh really?”
Ian: “Yeah.”
Anthony: “I’ve heard otherwise.”
[look at each other and Anthony laughs]
Ian: “Oh yeah, cause canonically we had sex for seven years.”
Anthony: [laughs] “In the Food Battle lore.”
Ian: “Yeah. Canonically in Food Battle, we’ve had sex for seven years. You know every crevice of my body.”
Anthony: “Of your anatomy.”
Ian: “Yeah.”
Anthony: “Anywho…”
Ian: “Wow, this went a weird place.”
Anthony: “Back to looking at Link in his prime.”
Ian: “Back to me looking freakin’ HAWT.”
Anthony: “Yeah.”
Just them casually discussing the fact they’ve canonically had sex for 7 years and then Anthony once again agreeing Ian looked hot in the Link outfit… I don’t think I even need to say anything.
-
Anthony: “Oh! And I just want to give a shoutout to myself.”
Ian: “Oh, [sings] shoutout to myself.”
Anthony: “I painstakingly added those fucking stars [in the scene] for some reason. I thought they were so necessary.”
Ian: “Yeah, no, that was sick.”
Ian giving Anthony a little compliment for his hard work 😊
Speaking of the stars it was also something Ian brought up again later when they appeared in the video again :-
Ian: “Stars. Stars.”
Anthony: “Oh yeah. Stars. We got ‘em in there.”
Very cute how he wanted to shoutout Anthony’s work again ☺️
-
Erin: “That’s Anthony?! [as Ganondorf]”
Ian: “Yeah.”
Anthony: “Shut up. You knew that was me.”
Erin: “That’s crazy.”
Ian: “You didn’t know that was Anthony?”
Erin: “Where’d your, like, jaw go?”
Ian: “What do you mean? He’s got an epic jaw.”
Ian got so defensive on Anthony’s behalf here, I love it! Reminded me of the moments from Who Meme’d It when Anthony was defending Ian 😌
And that was us for this video!
Moving on…
SOUP!
Gets a big title cause why not!
But yes, soup! So Ian has gotten into making soup this year and on that same Friday we got the Flashback, that evening we were blessed out of nowhere with these stories :-
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THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THESE 😩
Like this is the cutest, most domesticated shit ever! They kill me!!!!
And okay yes when that first photo was posted I thought Ian was right then and there cooking it for him, Ian then responded with this :-
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Let me live in my fantasies Ian! 😤
But regardless of Mr dashing-my-dreams Hecox, I’m still of the mindset they were hanging out that day and that’s when Ian gave him the container of soup.
Evidence :-
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This photo only. That I believe Anthony took 😌
Also I try not to make these posts too shipper-heavy so that everyone may enjoy them if they’re just here for the friendship alone, so I’ll just leave this other little post I made here about some other thoughts I had on this soup situation that isn’t in the friendship realm 🤭 All cool if that’s not for you though!
VidConfessions
So 7 months later Vidcon finally decided to post this little interview they had with them lol. And even with such a short video we still got a few complimentary/cute moments :-
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So Anthony was being his usual self and finding Ian the funniest person alive as always. There was a couple moments where Ian gave his answers and you just hear Anthony’s laugh in the background 🥰
Q: What are the last three things you Googled?
Ian: “Jared Leto cult…”
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He’s a cutie ☺️
And it happened again!
Q: What’s the cringest thing you’ve ever done for views?
Ian: “I mean like our whole channel’s cringe.”
Anthony, once again: [laughing in the background]
Love him and how much he loves Ian and his humour 😊
-
This was just one wee last bit I thought was cute :-
Ian: [signing out the video] “This has been Ian from Smosh, that’s right, the channel that is 17 and a half years old that’s doing sketch comedy again with my best friend Anthony.”
Can never resist them calling each other ‘best friend’ so of course had to include it!
Making of Pokémon In Real Life 2024
So they brought back the classic Pokémon In Real Life sketch, and from that obviously we got the BTS. Only a couple little moments from this one but just wanted to include them cause they were silly 🤓
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Ian: [sneezes] “Sorry. Your hairspray.”
Anthony: “Ohhh… he’s allergic to me [smirks].”
👀 Don’t know what that was about but alrighty, Anthony…
-
Ian: [cuts his finger and there’s a dot of blood]
Anthony: “Oh my god, dude. Are you okay?”
Ian: “No, I’m not okay. Trigger warning gore.”
Anthony: “Do you need someone to suck out the blood?”
Why did this just turn into Saltburn? Don’t know what Anthony was on with the these two moments but I won’t question it 😝 And despite saying ‘someone’, he was definitely offering to suck the blood from Ian’s finger himself 🤭
Pokémon In Real Life 2024 Watch Party
Of course with the sketch and BTS we got a livestream, which gave us some cute and complimentary moments 😊
To kick off this livestream I just wanna point out that they were wearing matching colours with Anthony’s jacket and Ian’s hoodie, plus matching Smosh Pokémon hats which is very cute 😊
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Ian: [apologising for getting annoyed in the BTS due to the background noise messing up their filming] “Dude, this video. This Pokémon video. I apologise if I looked very angry in the behind the scenes.”
Anthony: [laughs] “You didn’t look that bad. Honestly, it amped up accurately.”
Erin: “The compilation of you getting angry, it was pretty funny.”
Anthony: Yeah, so it was justified. People knew why you were angry.”
Love the reassurance from Anthony here so that Ian isn’t worried about how he came across in the video.
-
[take their hats off]
Ian: “How’s my hair? Is it weird?”
Anthony: “Is mine weird? Yours is fine.”
Ian: “No, I feel like yours is like, yours has like a messy chic to it, you know.”
Them just complimenting each other’s hair - here for it! Also Ian’s added compliment of “messy chic” 😄
-
[playing Pokémon quiz]
I&A: “Jinx.”
Crew: [laughs]
Anthony: [smiles and points to Ian] “Jinx.”
Ian: “That’s our favourite. Favourite Pokémon.”
Funny because it’s both the Pokémon’s name and they said it at the same time 😝 Cute how Ian also got in that that’s their favourite ☺️
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[complete the quiz]
Anthony: “Dude, 100 percent, bro.”
I&A: [high-five]
Of course always gotta include the highfives 😌
-
After the quiz they go on to play a Pikachu x Sonic crossover. Anthony plays a round and then Ian goes to play but can’t get the controls to work for him so Anthony’s showing him what to do 🥹 I don’t feel the need to include what they said here as it’s just Anthony saying what buttons to push but just wanted to include a little description of what was happening at this moment 😊
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Ian: [completes the game]
Anthony: “You won the game.” [clapping]
Just another little cute moment I wanted to include of Anthony clapping for Ian 🙂
-
[playing Pokémon Among Us]
Anthony: [playing the game well]
Ian: “Alright, I hate that you’re like kind of eating.” [as Ian kept dying]
A begrudging little compliment from Ian there 😄
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[signing the livestream off]
Ian: “Happy New Year, hope the holidays were a fun time for you and you had some eggnog and sat by the campfire…”
Anthony: “Roasting chestnuts.”
Ian: “Roasting chestnuts.”
Anthony: “Or chestnut. I’m not making any assumptions.”
Ian: “….What?”
Anthony: “Just if they don’t have more than one chestnut.”
Ian: “Ohh, okay. I don’t know if you could buy a singular chestnut but…”
Anthony: “I think there’s a way.”
Ian: “Go off king.”
Just a silly little one to end on because I wanted to include Ian calling Anthony ‘king’ 🤭
Can I Guess Who Slapped Me?
So the video of Anthony getting slapped finally dropped! And it was everything and more, especially when it came to moments between Ian and Anthony so let’s jump right in :-
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Right off the bat we had this as the description for Ian…
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👀👀👀
Now onto the actual slapping…
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The moment that got us all was just before Ian slaps him he slowly started caressing Anthony’s face so obviously that had us all going crazy! Including the cast and crew!
Anthony: [after the slap] “Oh. Wow. Uhhh, this person thinks they’re hilarious.” [laughs]
Cast & Crew: [laughing]
Ian: [Trying not to laugh]
Anthony: “Uhhh, who would do that? Who would caress my face and slap me out of nowhere?”
Ian: [boops Anthony’s nose]
Anthony: “Uh, it feels like an Ian move to me… Did you just boop me? Um, that feels like an Ian move.”
Kiana: “That is correct.”
Everyone: [celebrating and applauding]
Anthony: [puts his hands out and Ian high-fives him]
Angela: “Friendship always wins!”
Ian: “Well done. Well done. Good job to you.”
Anthony: [bowing]
Ian: “There we go. There we go. That’s the only one you truly needed to get right.”
Anthony: [laughs]
So true Ian! That was the most important one he needed to get right! And I just want to point out how Ian was only the 3rd person Anthony got right, and of course he knew it was him right away with his cheeky little joke of “this person thinks they’re hilarious” 😝 he knew the second Ian caressed his face that it was him cause they truly just know each other that well ☺️ Live for Angela yelling “Friendship always wins!” after he got it right too! And can we also talk about the totally unnecessary, but very, very cute little nose boop Ian threw in there just cause he wanted to! Obsessed!
-
A little bit later in the video during Duran’s round of slapping Anthony another little moment happened that I just wanted to include cause I thought that it was funny and showed how silly of a mood Ian was in, I think Anthony being blindfolded was playing a part in that and he gained a little extra layer of confidence to just fuck about with Anthony 😆
Anthony: [standing with his butt pushed out waiting to be slapped]
Kiana: “The stance is great. The stance is great.”
Ian: [runs over and pretends to go in to slap Anthony’s butt]
Anthony: “Why’s there wind?”
Cast & Crew: [laugh]
Hehe 🤭
Anyways! That was it for the slapping video but I did also want to include something that came off the back of it and that was…
Bonus
Anthony dedicating a whole Instagram post to Ian slapping him :-
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Obessed with this though! The fact he went out of his way to make a post specifically about Ian slapping him over anyone else, plus that caption! ‘only ian would slap me like that’ - truly the cherry on top of it all 😌
Jacksfilms Confesses His Biggest Regret
So they had Jacksfilms on as a guest for Flashback to react to some of his old videos and an old collab of his the boys had been a part of.
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Jack: [talking about how he moved to LA after he graduated] “…And that’s when I started collaborating with some, then, very big YouTube channels.”
Anthony: [looks at Ian] “Yeah, back then we were big.” [elbows Ian and Ian elbows him back]
Them just being silly 😄 loved the little elbowing of each other too 😊
-
Jack: “I remember I was in college, I was like out hanging with my friends. I just got 50,000 subs on YouTube, baby. And one of my friends just like took the air right out of my tire, or sails, whatever, and was like ‘Uh, yeah, did you know that Smosh has like a million now?’.”
Ian: “Pffft.”
Anthony: [silent laughs] “Noice!” [high-fives Ian] “Noice!”
Again, just more of them being silly. Plus high-five!
-
I should have mentioned at the start of this section that Ian is in a tshirt-dress for this video as a reference to Jack as it’s got tweets of his printed on it. Anyway, as a result his legs are out obviously, and that’s relevant to this next part :-
Anthony: [talking about how there’s always an audience for every kind of content, it’s just about what kind of audience you want to have]
Ian: “That’s true. And you want this audience.” [pointing to show off his legs]
Anthony: “You want this.”
Ian: “You want the audience that accepts this.”
Anthony: “This is what you want. This is the audience that we have. And we are very happy with this audience.”
Ian: “Exactly.”
Anthony: “They’ve been begging for this.”
And we’re more than happy to be the audience for it! 😌 (As is Anthony considering how many times he was checking out Ian’s legs during this video 😉)
Anthony also had this to say about YouTube’s hate for Ian’s attire 😤
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Jack: [talking about a sponsorship he done with other youtubers to test out a new workout program]
Ian: “Did you get Jaaaacked?”
Anthony: [looks at Ian with a smirk and high-fives him]
Second high-five for this video! Also Anthony just quietly complimenting Ian’s pun 😄
-
Ian: “Do you [Jack] have any regrets? Any videos that you regret making?” [smiling]
Anthony: “You look so happy saying that.” [smiling] “This is happiest I’ve seen you all episode.” [laughs]
Just thought it was cute how Anthony seeing Ian smiling made him smile and laugh 😊
And that was it for another Flashback!
No1 Ian Fan Strikes Again
So Anthony was back at it! The Smosh team was out celebrating one of the crews birthday - Erin posted this to her story. Now I’m sure there were probably multiple photos and videos taken this night but what was the only thing Anthony shared from it? That’s right! Ian of course!
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He’s obsessed with that boy and I love it! 😌
Ian also reshared and replied to Anthony’s story which you can find here
Making Of “MrBeast Copycats Have Gone Too Far”
So the BTS of the MrBeast Copycats Have Gone Too Far sketch offered us a few little moments :-
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So this seemed to be a very high-five, hand-hold heavy BTS. Think they were just in one of those moods where they want any excuse to touch each other 🤭😉
[Finishing off their little video introduction]
Anthony: [goes in to high-five Ian and grips his hand]
Ian: [high-fives Anthony back and also grips his hand in response]
I&A: [still holding each other’s hands] “Let’s go shoot this shit!”
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Ian: [messing up his line] “I’m having a trouble! I’m having a trouble…” [facepalms]
Shayne: “That’s so funny. ‘I’m having a trouble’.”
Anthony and Courtney: [laughing]
Anthony: [to Ian] “Are you having a trouble?” [puts hand on Ian’s shoulder]
Ian: “I’m having a trouble. Words.”
Anthony: [laughs]
I know they were (lovingly) poking fun at Ian here, but the wee glimpse of the shoulder touch from Anthony to Ian is what got me ☺️
-
I&A: [In character but joking around]
Ian: “There’s a twist. There’s a twist.” [puts hand out to Anthony] “There’s a twist.”
Anthony: “There’s a twist.” [takes Ian’s hand and grips it]
I&A: [still holding hands whilst lightly pushing/tapping each other and repeating “there’s a twist”. They then start scissoring their fingers together, before gripping each other’s fingers and pulling the other in closer to them whilst now repeating “getting twisted” and manically laughing]
Well… that was… something… 👀
Told you they were just looking for any excuse to touch each other. But hey, wouldn’t be a Smosh BTS if Ian and Anthony weren’t flirting with each other 😜
-
And to finish off this high-five heavy BTS, I’ll leave you with this :-
Ian: [talking about how Anthony injured himself by dropping a laptop on his foot and how he should take an Advil but Anthony doesn’t take Advil so he doesn’t know if it’ll help]
Anthony: “I don’t care about the pain, I just want the throbbing to stop.”
Ian: “He doesn’t like throbbing.”
Anthony: “I don’t like throbbing. I like pulsating.”
Ian: [laughs] “I hate both of those words.”
Anthony: [laughs] “Yeah, usually I say throbbing or pulsating member…”
Ian: [acting disgusted]
Anthony: “Speaking of members thank you so much being a Smoshtastic or Smosh Royalty member!”
Ian: “Yeah! Thanks for being our throbbing members.” [laughs]
Anthony: “Our pulsating members.”
Ian: “Yeahhh, throbbing members.”
I&A: [high-five]
Um… thanks boys, I guess… happy to be a throbbing and pulsating member… 🥴🤦‍♀️ They high-fived so I had to include it, don’t blame me for what they said! 😩
-
And on that’s note that brings us to the end of January! Hope you all enjoyed reading - I’d say it was a very good start to the year in terms of content, and the boys very much delivered in terms of complimentary moments so can’t complain 😌
Thank you all again for reading and I shall see you next time! 💖
84 notes · View notes
oceansssblue · 1 month ago
Note
OK SO. RAREPAIR. MY GOAT. Ventress x Hunter!! I love this ship so much he spread his legs to her
If possible, can you make it t4t? Trans woman Asajj and Trans man Hunter? 👉👈
Can be smut! They are so hot together hehe
Soooo... let the rare pairings begin ✨
Hope it was what u wanted!
"NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING"
– ASAJJ VENTRESS/HUNTER 🔥
WARNINGS: TRANS ASAJJ, TRANS HUNTER, EXPLICIT SEX (DIRTY TALK, BIG DICK)
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"This is not what I was expecting when you agreed to come with me" Ventress retorts, voice full of sarcasm, while Hunter tries to catch his breath in front of her.
The leader of Clone Force 99 had been worried sick about the ex-sith's revelation about Omega. She had offered to train her; just enough to grasp a sliver of control of the Force. Just enough to hide herself, to remain unnoticed. Not that the Empire would stop looking after her –not when they already knew the truth–; but at least, her life sign wouldn't be screaming "force sensitive" for those physically around the girl. Hunter had inmediately shot down the idea unless he was allowed to tag along; and Asajj had reluctantly accepted.
Why did she want to help the girl? Well, Ventress knew everything about people wanting to take advantange of a helpless child; about being an expensable pawn in another's game, about families ripped apart. Plus, the Empire would find her someday too, no matter how hard she had been working to blend with the shadows. And for the Empire to be destroyed, there had to be enough force-sensitives –ex-siths, ex-jedis, new force users, it didn't really matter– alive. Asajj doubted the Empire could be defeated without them.
That didn't mean Ventress was chirpy about it. Hapiness just didn't seem to be in her vocabulary; in her range of emotions. Amused, entertained, not sad neither angry? Yes. But never plainly happy. It was just her personality; shaped after a whole life of teachings on dark arts and sith stories.
Surprisignly, her two new companions hadn't been as irritating as she had expected them to be. The kid's bubbly excitement could be tiring after a whole day of social interactions; and Hunter's initial side glances of waryness had gotten on her nerves at first. But the girl had learned when to give her space –it wasn't a difficult task, considering Asajj's sharp tongue– and Hunter... Ah, Hunter had been a very curious development.
Ventress had grown to... Well, perhaps like was too strong of a word, but it admitedly went further than tolerate. The clone was loyal and brave –but not the silly kind of bravery–; measured, always aware of his surroundings, perceptive and plainly hot. That definitely helped. There was a sort of primal, raw and masculine attraction going on for Hunter; and yet he was still surprisignly pretty. Perhaps it was the long hair or the sweet brown eyes; perhaps that narrow waist Asajj had eyed more than once.
No matter how curiously attracted she felt for him, though, Ventress never thought it would end like this; that he would be the one to grow a pair and kiss her. And oh, what a heated kiss it had been. Hunter was still panting in front of her, eyes flickering over her face while he tried to catch up his breath. Ventress had heard him moan low in his throat; felt the shiver spreading through his body when she had all but cuped his ass and grounded against him, letting him feel her bulge. The wide-eyed, confused but excited look on the clone's face had been nothing short of precious.
Ventress walked backwards –eyes never leaving Hunter's– and layed down on the matress of her ship; posture relaxed and tempting. Hunter seemed to be devouring her from his spot against the wall.
"I'm not complaining, though" she finally continued, making a tiny gesture with her head while she added in a sultry voice "Come here and take a sit on my lap, little clone".
Hunter's cheeks flushed a deep red. He hadn't seen this happening either. But he couldn't deny the way his heartbeat sped up when Ventress stepped close to him; or when she hissed a few words as an answer. Because that's how the woman spoke; in sharp hisses and confident whispers. Everything in Asajj screamed power; and that made Hunter's knees weak.
Hunter has always been a confident person himself; used to leading his squad and carrying the weight of decisions and responsabilities. He doesn't really understand then, why he gets so damn shy around Ventress; why his feet shuffle as if he's unsure to move forward. He wants to. He wants her. Why then does he feel so... afraid?
The woman observes him from the bed. It makes Hunter more nervous, but the arch of her eyebrow finally pushes him into action, and Hunter quickly jumps into the matress, one knee going over Ventress's hips and settling almost stubbornly on top of her. He's a sargeant. He has led his team into battle more times than he can count and survived to tell the story. It's just sex with... Ventress.
Ventress, who has a very well-endowed cock by the feeling of it and chuckles at Hunter's obvious reaction; a small whimper escaping his lips while he nervously adjusts on top of her.
The woman's long nails take hold of Hunter's own hips; keeping him in place.
Once again, she smirks.
"Like what you feel?" She asks, though it's nothing more than an observation at this point, really.
Hunter blushes and glances off to the side. Ventress chuckles and grabs his chin; forcing him to look at her.
"For a sargeant, you're surprisingly shy in bed" she points out, smile wide as a lothcat's. "Don't worry, little clone, we can just stick to kissing for a bit".
There's a sort of sarcasm to her voice; but Hunter seizes the oportunity to do something he wants and escape the weight of her stare and dips down to press his lips on hers. Asajj makes a tiny surprised sound, body tensing and coiling like a snake; then chuckles low in her throat and tugs him forward, deepening the kiss. She's rough, teeth nipping his lower lip, all-consuming; and Hunter quickly gets lost in it. His body heatens up; warmth climbing onto his cheeks. He's getting wet, now; and he can feel Ventress's bulge growing hard underneath him, and the knowledge drives him crazy.
He humps forward, unconsciously trying to grind on it; and Ventress groans, lips parting, head falling back to rest against the thin pillow. She studies him with hooded eyes. The clone looks delicious; long hair encasing his flushed face, eyes closed, lips parted while he moves against her. Ventress tugs that gorgeous hair of his back with a pull of her hand; Hunter's spine curving in response. A small moan echoes in the walls of her ship.
"Getting a little desperate, aren't why?" She asks, amused but oh, so turned on, dark eyes heavy fixed on his. "You want that inside of you, mm?"
Hunter's whole body trembles at the dirty words coming of her mouth. A rush of slick slips into his underware. His core pulses almost with it's own heartbeat.
Fuck, yes. He wants that. He needs that. He's so empty, he needs her cock to stretch him, needs to be filled and pounded and...
Hunter whines, and Asajj gives him a wide, dangerous smile.
"Not that I'm trying, little clone, but your thoughts are awfully loud in the force".
Hunter blushes; though it doesn't make much difference in his already redenned cheeks. He looks at her as if he were a lost puppy; needing guidance. Ventress smirks.
"Why don't you take it out, then, if you want it so badly?" She suggests, playing with him, but dead-serious at the same time.
Hunter knows she won't let it slip; and it's less humiliating to admit to his desires directly –instead of trying to resist–. So he swallows his embarassment and shyness down, and his hands nervously tug her leggins and underware down; exposing her erection to him for the first time. It tears out a very audible moan from his throat.
"It's so big" he thinks to himself, but speaks out loud.
It's the biggest dick he's ever seen. Warm and heavy, it rests against the woman's pelvis; almost reaching her belly button. There's a few drops of precum that tempts Hunter to take a taste.
Asajj's laugh break him out of his reverie.
"Take a photo, little clone. It'll last longer".
Hunter tries to be nochalant about it.
"I was just curious. You know, with you being a woman and..." he looks down at her cock again, and Ventress gives him a confident, one sided smile.
"Ah. Well, it can't be that much of a surprise... Considering how you're keeping a very similar secret. Aren't you, little clone?"
Hunter squirms. He glances off to the side, but Ventress "tsks" and he redirects his eyes back to her. He doesn't like talking about this. Hell, he doesn't have a lot of sexual experience because he hadn't wanted to face other's reactions; hadn't known how to explain it. What to do or say. But Jedi magic, right? Or well... Well, perhaps his grinding had made his lack of package obvious. Either way, it's not easy admiting it out loud.
"Why don't you show me?" she continues, encourging him upon his silence.
Hunter hesitates for a few seconds; then he shifts his ways on his knees and slowly divests himself. His shirt is thrown to the floor first; his slightly more rounded chest coming into view. They're not really breasts, at least not a full pair; but they're not completely flat and muscular either. There's some softness in them; and his nipples had always been particularly sensitive.
Surprisingly, Ventress waits patiently as he moves on onto the lower part of his outfit. Hunter is finally completely naked in front of her; and the woman eats him up with her eyes while Hunter squirms in place. Insecurity swims inside of him, and some part of him wants nothing more than to dress up again, but... But Ventress smirks in satisfaction and carefully and very slowly swipes two fingers through his wet folds. Hunter clenches around nothing and moans.
"Look at that" she smiles, desire clear in her eyes. "Who would have thought a clone commander would look so pretty with perky nipples and a pussy crying to be filled. Because that's what you truly want, isn't it?"
"Y-yes" Hunter manages to answer, swallowing his embarassment down.
"Well, well, little clone. We must prepare you for that" Ventress taunts, her hand reaching down to gently stroke her cock twice. "I'm not sure I can make all this fit inside of you. I bet you're tight".
Hunter's mind is swimming in desire. He nods, fingers flying down to his clit inmediately. He does a circular motion one, twice; he's so wet and turned on it feels spectacular already.
"Ah, ah. You're going to cum in my cock and only by what my cock gives you" she stops him, making him whimper and look at her in desperation. "If you're so eager, you can start preparing yourself for my cock".
Hunter throws all caution through the window and dips his middle finger inside of him; the movement eased by his wetness. It's one single finger; and yet he feels so full already. Ventress is right; he is tight. It doesn't help his pussy is clenching onto anything that is given to him.
"Just like that, little clone. Go on. You're a big boy, you can take another one".
Hunter whimpers and obbeys; and soon he's pushing two fingers, then three, in and out of him. They become from being too much to being too little; and he whines gripping the woman's hip with his free hand, asking for more.
Ventress, who has been slowly stroking herself while watching his little show, smirks knowingly.
"Yes, Hunter?"
He bites his lip and squirms. He knows she wants him to ask.
"P-please..." he whispers, the urgency clear in his voice.
Ventress smiles wider.
"Please what? I'm not giving you anything until you beg for it".
Hunter moans and tries to hide behind the courtin of his hair momentarily. The woman grabs his chin and forces him to face her. Her eyes demand an answer. Hunter needs to beg.
"Please, Asajj" he surprises himself with how soft his pleading voice sounds. "I want your big cock inside of me".
Ventress groans, kissing him as a reward and swiftly adjusting their positions; tugging him towards her so that his entrance is hovering over her erection. Ventress holds both of his hips with her hands; gesturing down with her head, eyes locked on his.
"Take what you want, little clone. Sit on it". She orders, the last few words coming out in almost a hiss.
It sends electrifying pleasure up his spine; a tremble that is only replicated when he holds her cock in place with one hand and begins to slowly sit on it.
"A-ah" he whines, the stretch of her massive cock too much for his tight entrance to easily adjust. "V-ventress..."
She hums in delight and holds his hips steady; leading him to backtrack a little before taking more of her length inside of him.
"You should see yourself, Hunter" her voice is temptation on itself. "Looking so pretty trying to take my hard cock in your tiny pussy".
Hunter whimpers and stubbornly pushes down the rest of the way; the stretch so abrupt it burns. He makes a second wounded noise in his throat when he involuntarily clenches on her; and Ventress releases her first pure unadulterated, uncontrolled moan of the night. This is affecting her as well; as much as she's good at hiding it.
"S-so big" he repeats, almost as if he needs her to soothe him, to confirm it.
Asajj nods, answer a little raspy.
"Yeah. I can almost see the outline poking in your belly".
Hunter clenches on her again and looks at her desperately; breath already coming out in agitated pantings.
She reads the overwhelming desire in him.
"Move, little clone. I want to see you bouncing up and down on my cock".
Hunter loses himself on Asajj's hard-on. Though at first it's difficult to mantain a rhythim, the feeling too much, his endless desire and wetness soon makes it easier; and encouraged by her dirty words and strong hands, he moves faster and harder, slamming his own hips down on hers until he can almost feel her pushing against his cervix. Is an alarming situation and a incredibly pleassurable once at the same time.
Ventress let's him enjoy himself for some minutes; delighted to watch his pleasure and listen to his curses and moans, eyes tracking the way his body bounces and how his spine arches, how flushed his face looks. The need to fuck him harder, faster, arrives not too long after, though; and she inverts their positions so fast that Hunter is left to stare at her in shock, weeping cock still inside of him.
"You've had your fun, little clone. Now I get to take what I want, and you're just gonna hold on and cope with it".
It's a warning; a promiss. And Hunter soon discovers Ventress has no intention on breaking it.
She tilts his hips upwards; bends his legs open, and pounds in him so hard and deep a broken moan cries into the silence of the night. She doesn't give him respite, though; she's persistent, set on a goal, hips moving confidently over his and feeding her cock into his pussy one time after the other one. He's so wet the sound is almost embarassing; and yet it still turns him on. Ventress's cock feels imposibly good inside of him; so big, stretching him so wide, reaching so deep, branding him inside, carving her shape out of his pussy, one time after the other one and the other one and the other one...
"Please... please..." hunter cries, real tears in his eyes.
It feels so good it's overwhelming. He needs to cum. He needs to explode and release and please, god, this is so fucking good his brain is going to...
"There, there, little clone. Just take. What I. Give you" she hisses back, punching each word with a snap of her hips.
Hunter feels the orgasm impossibly close. He feels tingly already. He can almost graze it with his fingertips. It feels so good, he's so full, she's so big and...
"I-I'm gonna' cum!" He warns her, eyes shutting down inmediately, mouth dropping in an opent pant.
Ventress groans and pounds harder. She places a firm –and carefull– hand on Hunter's throat.
The man whines. The stars explode.
"I-I'm cum-ing!" He cries out, every single muscle on his body clenching harshly, squeezing the woman's cock.
Tingling spreads from his pussy to every single nerve ending on his body; shivering uncontrollably.
Ventress opens up on the Force; swallowing his pleasure down, making it part of her own.
"F-fuck!" She groans, almost tasting her own orgasm too. "D-drop to your knees, Hunter. Now".
It's not a question. It's an order. It's urgent. Necessary.
A dazzed Hunter rolls over and kneels on the floor; sleepy, satisfied eyes looking up at the woman's figure in ecstasy. Ventress takes a stand right in front of him. She grabs his hair with one hand, tilting his face upwards; desperately strokes her cock with the other one.
"Want to fucking paint your face" she growls, managing to send a last shiver of pleasure through Hunter's nerves. "Want to see your pretty face drenched in my warm cum, little clone..."
Hunter hums and obediently sticks his tongue out; and the sight of it, of the clone voluntarily offering his mouth to her, is what does it. Ventress moans and cums; white ropes of her warm seed painting Hunter's flushed face and dripping down. Ventress caresses the tip against his cheek; then against his lips. Hunter hums and gives her a kittle lick in complete contempt and relaxation. It's Ventress's time to shiver.
"Good boy" she murmurs, energy dropping, falling down to sit on the edge of the bed.
Hunter hums and follows; drops forward, head coming to rest to one of her thighs. He's growing sleepy as well; and Ventress chuckles in what can only be... Well, not happiness, but fond amusement, maybe.
THE END.
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skyward-floored · 1 year ago
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Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket
*shuffles feet*
...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).
Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓
Day 17
Read on ao3
Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight
————————————————————
Getting out was a blur.
Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.
There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.
It was a struggle not to just pass out.
But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.
The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.
Link flinched anyway.
The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.
Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.
He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.
Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?
Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.
One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.
How many were there?
“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?
“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”
“Well what was I supposed to do?”
“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”
“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”
A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.
“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?” The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.
“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.
He swallowed.
“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.
“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”
“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?
All he was was a battery.
“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”
They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?
The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.
Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.
Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.
He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.
Sunlight.
Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.
He was outside.
He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.
He was out.
He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.
It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.
Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.
Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.
(...)
The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.
Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.
Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.
He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.
Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.
“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.
“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.
What all did he go through in there?
“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.
“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.
Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.
“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.
“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”
Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.
“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.
It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.
Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.
“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.
“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”
“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”
Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.
“Go ahead,” he whispered.
Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.
It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.
But that can wait.
Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.
But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.
“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.
“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.
Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.
“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”
“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.
“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”
Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—
Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.
The Shadow will pay for this.
“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.
He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.
You’re safe.
(...)
The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.
His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.
Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.
Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.
They couldn’t be removed.
Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.
It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.
How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.
How did you ever handle me?
Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.
His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.
Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.
But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.
Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.
It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.
Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.
And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.
(...)
Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.
“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”
“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.
He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.
He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.
The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.
“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”
And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—
He woke up.
Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—
Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—
“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”
He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.
He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.
He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.
His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.
Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.
He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—
A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.
Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.
Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.
Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.
That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.
“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”
Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.
(...)
After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.
Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.
It was wonderful.
He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.
But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.
But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.
He would keep going.
And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.
Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...
A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.
...Link could wait.
129 notes · View notes
seumyo · 5 days ago
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ORIGINAL CHARACTER INTROS ⭑.ᐟ MY HERO ACADEMIA
in which an indecisive author seeks help from the internet to choose which character she should write a whole book for.
AUTHOR’S NOTE. So you guys need to see through this whole post and let me know which character I should write for via voting/leaving comments (take it easy on feedback pls, I’m a fragile soul). THE POLL IS AT THE VERY BOTTOM OF THIS POST SO PLEASE TAKE UR TIME AND READ AND VOTE. (I put so much time in this intro, ples).
STORY SETTING’S NOTE. There’s a lot of gaps here that may seem confusing to readers (ex. Why is there a specification of Musutafu Campus? Because in my desired story setting, UA has a lot of branches across Japan, and is not only limited to the UA we all know), so feel free to comment where you’re curious and I’ll happily help!
CHARACTER NOTE. These are just the gist of these characters, ok? Their backstories, apperances, and personality in the story would be adjusted as I see fit.
The visuals are from Picrew! Here’s the link; 胡乱な男性メーカー made by ✦yashi
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Kanji Name: 雨蛇美静
Romaji Name: Amahebi Mishizu
Age: 15
Date of Birth: April 23
Quirk: Rain Shifter — This Quirk allows her to shift her body into a liquid or misty form that resembles rain. When in her “rain” form, Mishizu can absorb moisture from the environment and control the intensity of the precipitation she embodies. The more rainlike she becomes, the more difficult it is for her to maintain solid form.
Appearance (but just my favs abt her): She has fangs. Like, snake-like sharp fangs. Has central heterochromia (yellow and green), but often goes unnoticed because people could barely look her in the eyes. And her lower body is that of a serpent because of her Father’s genes. Hair is very fluffy because she takes care of it really well.
Personality (in the shortest description I can): Has a temper that she controls very well, quiet, observant, has a sharp mouth, and elusive.
Stats:
Power: 3/5
Speed: 3/5
Technique: 5/5
Intelligence: 4/5
Cooperativeness: 4/5
Fun Facts:
During her first week in UA, some of her classmates were worried whenever she was staring too much at Tokoyami—because they thought she was sizing up her prey (since snakes often eat birds in the food chain), but she was simply intrigued by his archaic way of speaking.
She thinks Kamakiri from Class 1-B is cool and wants to befriend him, but she’s often too busy with her schedule to even see him.
She went to the same middle school as Tokage, though they were not in the same class.
Once asked Kaminari what he was doing, and he jokingly replied, “Wouldn’t like you to know, weather boy?” She did not get the reference, so she opted to research about it when she got home.
She is the middle child and only girl between her siblings. Her older brother is 18, and her younger brother is 9—she wants to strangle both because they like to get on her nerves, but she loves them to the bone either way.
In an event for Teacher’s Appreciation Day, students from each class were encouraged to imitate their homeroom teacher—a “Mini Me” segment, if you will. By a landslide of votes, she was voted and became the representative of her class—looking exactly like Aizawa during his high school days after some colored contacts and makeup.
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Kanji Name: 福永日香子
Romaji Name: Fukunaga Hikako
Age: 15
Date of Birth: June 15
Quirk: Starburst — This Quirk allows her to generate and control bursts of glitter-like energy that can take a variety of forms. The sparkles themselves are charged particles that can range in intensity from harmless, dazzling displays to powerful energy blasts, depending on her emotions as she generates them. The strength of power ranges from joy being the strongest to sadness being the weakest.
Appearance (but just my favs abt her): Has the softest baby blue eyes. Hair is always kept short because she worries that it might get caught in an explosion at some point. She has three ear piercings (two on the right and one on the left).
Personality: Bubbly, energetic, optimistic, caring, and smart.
Stats:
Power: 4/5
Speed: 4/5
Technique: 3/5
Intelligence: 3/5
Cooperativeness: 5/5
Bakugou disliked how their Quirks were similar, but she was oblivious to this fact and just thought that Bakugou hated her for no reason (which doesn't stop her from showing him party tricks, though). Though she hates it when people compare their Quirks because she’s always regarded as the weaker, childish version of Bakugou’s Explosion.
Whenever there would be a party, the head of planning will always be Hikako because she knows how to plan parties down to the most significant detail. Which is actually the reason why she’s based off of Pinkie Pie.
She wants to become a lawyer if she doesn’t continue pursuing heroics.
Ironically, she is allergic to Starburst (the candy) and is an only child. A rainbow baby, if you will.
In the Mayhem Magazine (a well-known magazine line for upcoming pro heroes and heroes-in-training), she consistently secures three issues straight of her in the special editions. Her face on the cover, and all because of her likeable personality and Hadeko fashion style of dressing herself.
Her current concern is that not many people take her seriously because of her bubbly personality and often think that she’s being sarcastic.
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Kanji Name: 暗闇弥尋
Romaji Name: Kurayami Yahiro
Age: 16
Date of Birth: October 31
Quirk: Fearmonger — This Quirk allows her to sense and “consume” the tangible fear of others, manifesting it as a tangible force or entity. However, to activate this ability, she must “taste” the fear—experiencing it as though it were real. For instance, if someone fears fire, she feels her throat burn; if someone fears drowning, her throat feels as though it’s continuously being filled with water even though it’s not.
Appearance (but just my favs abt her): Has blonde tips due to outgrowing the time she dyed her hair blonde. She has a singular piercing. Her eyes are milky white, but she can see perfectly fine with 20/20 vision.
Stats:
Power: 4/5
Speed: 2/5
Technique: 4/5
Intelligence: 4/5
Cooperativeness: 3/5
Fun Facts
She comes from the same clan as Tokoyami, hence their similar last names. She was initially surprised to find out that they are distantly related but looks forward to seeing him at family reunions.
Went to the same middle school as Mirio and Tamaki, and coincidentally joined the same club as Tamaki. She holds a deep sense of respect for him due to their Quirks being similar in a way and his helpful input during extracurricular club activities that helped her enjoy after-school clubs.
She hates spicy food because of a prank that was played on her during elementary school. Due to the nature of her Quirk, she remembers the awful taste of most fears too clearly, which kills her appetite altogether—so she has a small appetite.
She doesn’t understand how her hair is the way that it is, but is too intimidated to even tell her usual barber that she wants a new haircut.
Has one younger sister who’s 1-year-old. She doesn’t understand her parents choices of deciding to have children with large age gaps; nevertheless, she never said anything about it vocally.
She thinks it’s completely unnecessary for Kirishima to include her in any conversation but doesn’t tell him because she doesn’t want to kill the mood. Prefers one-on-one talks rather than by groups.
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Kanji Name: 力山誠治
Romaji Name: Rikiyama Seiji
Age: 15
Date of Birth: October 10
Quirk: Kinetic Repulsion — This Quirk allows her to harness and manipulate kinetic energy from her own movements and external forces, transforming it into powerful bursts of energy.
Appearance (but just my favs abt her): The lighter streaks in her hair are actually gray hairs due to stress. Has the warmest golden eyes and has to wear sunglasses outside because sunlight reflects too much on her eyes, which obscures her vision.
Personality (in the shortest description I can): Curious, kind, responsible, humorous, empathetic.
Stats:
Power: 4/5
Speed: 3/5
Technique: 4/5
Intelligence: 4/5
Cooperativeness: 3/5
Fun Facts:
She is from the same family lineage as Bruce, hence the similar Quirks. It is unknown if she is a direct descendant of Bruce himself or another relative.
Originally wanted to enroll in a public high school but was pressured because her sisters were all studying in prestigious, well-known private schools in Japan. She is the second oldest of four (17, 15, 12, and 2).
She can fall asleep in unconventional places at any given moment as long as she feels like it, just like her older sister.
She is what they call a “Jack of All Trades,” though, as far as the title goes, she is a master of none.
Even if she’s one of the youngest in class, her middle school classmates often referred to her as “Sei-neesan” due to her older sister-like behavior. It is unknown whether her current classmates call her this.
She admires Kaminari’s strong personality to withstand their classmate’s teasing when he overuses his Quirk, though she is always the first to worry about him when he does so and looks out for him whenever he fries his brain. She thinks their Quirks are similar in a way, so she wants to train with him often, even if she’s shy at times to approach him most of the time.
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Kanji Name: 轟渓歩
Romaji Name: Todoroki Keiho
Age: 15
Date of Birth: October 3
Quirk: Inferno Maul — This Quirk allows her to summon and wield massive, molten hammers. These hammers are not just simple weapons; they are imbued with intense heat and are physically heavy, giving them a raw destructive force against solid surfaces.
Appearance (but just my favs abt her): Inherited her father’s red hair, and the orange highlights are effects of a science experiment gone wrong during her middle school classes. She has braces, so she doesn’t smile with her teeth that much.
Personality (in the shortest description I can): Intelligent, caring, responsible, humorous, and easygoing.
Stats:
Power: 4/5
Speed: 3/5
Technique: 5/5
Intelligence: 4/5
Cooperativeness: 4/5
Fun Facts:
Her father is the older brother of Enji, Shouto’s father, and she only found out that she and Shouto were cousins when Touya passed away. She wasn’t even aware that she had cousins, but was accepting of it when she found out. Enji has a hatred for her father, though the reasons are unknown to her.
She and Hatsume went to the same middle school and were tinkering geeks, which made them click instantly. Hatsume was the one that encouraged her to enroll in the hero course so someone can model her “babies.” Her bag is a gift from Hatsume, a matter displacement compact bag—because Hatsume noticed that Keiho had a hard time carrying their heavy school bags in middle school due to her mild scoliosis. Keiho has used this bag ever since.
Is the third oldest of four siblings. She has an older sister (24), an older brother (19), and a younger sister (14).
She keeps her hair short because her grandfather (from her mother’s side) gave her bangs when she was a baby, similar to a Dora haircut, and when he passed away, she kept it short in honor of him.
She thinks Shouto is avoiding her at UA.
She runs a hero theory blog where she posts all her theories, analysis, and even commissions and has unknowingly been friends with Midoriya, though the two are oblivious of the other's secret identity online as they rarely mention it in passing.
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tysm for reading and participating; i hope u have a good breakfast, lunch, dinner and win the lottery so u can buy the milky way 💗 also lmk if you guys want to hear more abt them—or a specific oc in general because i’m so FJWJNZ i want to talk about these pretty girls
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angelsanarchy · 1 year ago
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Tangerine Skies: Possum x Y/N Series CH 7
Tagging: @svgarcaine @icarus-star @romanroyapoligist @tempt-ress @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @liquidsmoothdomme @auggiethecreator @ethical-cain-vinnel @blacksoul-27
Possum had stopped responding to text messages at around 7:15PM. She knew he told her not to call but by 2AM, she started calling. When she first started calling, it would ring at least 4 times before kicking into his voicemail. Now that it was so late, she kept calling until it no longer rang but went straight to voicemail meaning the phone was now off.
"Come on Possum. Where the hell are you?" She paced around glancing over to Opossum while he slept on the couch in a bundle of blankets. She heard rustling outside of the RV and walked out to see Possum stumbling into his tent.
"Possum! Are you okay?" She startled him but he shook it off rather quickly.
"Oh yeah yeah I'm totally fine. No worries. I just...ran the whole way here. Did you miss me?" He was out of breath, sweaty and the bottom of his pants were torn and wet.
"Hey...take a minute and talk to me okay? You don't look alright." Possum frowned.
"Well I could use some rest. It's been a long day-" The moment he started towards the picnic table, his leg gave out and Y/n caught him.
"Okay, that's it." Y/n helped him limp towards the table and sat him down. As soon as she was able to assess him, she knew the wetness on his leg was blood. She tore the bottom of the pantleg open.
"Oh I liked these pants!" Possum whine as Y/n came face to face with a bloody and bruise leg.
"What the fuck happened to your leg Possum? You need to go to a hospital." She touched it carefully making him flinch.
"I may have been underestimated how observant I am while running through the woods...I got caught up in a bear trap." Possum winced again as she looked at the gashes.
"Oh my god..." She knew that the only bear traps that would be in the woods would be up near the mountains where all the drug dealers made their products. He was drug running.
"Stay here." She walked into the RV and found her first aid kit, some water and a few clean rags. Possum watched her clean his wounds up on his leg silently, drinking the water she had brought him and using the rag to wipe his face and neck clean.
"You're really good at this...ever been a nurse?" Possum asked seeing how in the zone Y/n was. She looked annoyed...or angry. He wasn't quite sure but he felt like shit.
"No I've never been a nurse. I've just had to take care of myself for a really long time." She gave no emotion as she moved to sit next to him.
"Shirt off, I want to clean the cuts on your neck." Possum took the shirt off and tossed it behind himself. She scooted closer to put ointment on his collarbone and he sighed.
"I'm sorry I scared you. That wasn't my intention at all." He spoke softly and Y/n's eyes fluttered to his.
"You shouldn't be drug running. You're lucky this was the worse that happened to you. Those tweaker deals get high on their own supply and end up blowing your head off." She felt her heart beating fast just thinking about how much worse this could have been.
"Then what would I tell your little brother?" She started getting a bit weepy and Possum grabbed her hand.
"I'm okay. You fixed me up, it's okay. See." Possum pulled Y/n into a hug and she tried to take a deep breath.
"You scared the hell out of me Possum. You can't just put yourself in danger like that...I won't handle it well if something awful happens...and you don't come back." She explained as he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, feeling a few tears.
"A stupid bear trap didn't keep me from coming back. That was the last big job I had to do so I promise I won't be going anywhere anytime soon." Possum tried to reassure.
"It's not like you could get there anyway. You probably broke your leg." Y/n gestured to his swollen limb.
"Nah, probably a bone bruise but definitely not broken. I might need one of those shots though. Trap was pretty rusty." Possum tried to lighten the mood but Y/n glared.
"Put your arm over my shoulders, let's get you inside so we can get that leg elevated." Possum was surprised.
"I can sleep in my tent-"
"Shut up and get your butt in that RV or so help me." Y/n warned. He limped up the steps and noticed the little blanket fort his little brother was wrapped up in and smiled. She had place a small bowl near him so he could eat and drink whenever he wanted. Possum couldn't help but smile. He turned towards Y/n who shut the door behind herself before Possum took her hands.
"Thank you for taking care of him...and me." He kissed her sweetly and gave her hands a squeeze. Y/n wanted to pout at him and be upset but he was here, in one piece, a little worse for wear but he was here.
"Anytime." She leaned her forehead against his and helped get him back into the bed. She helped strip him down so he would be comfortable and she slid into the bed next to him, pulling the covers up to her chest. Possum pulled her closer to his body until they were flush against one another.
"I like spooning with you. You always smell nice." Possum admitted making Y/n laugh.
"You set the bar pretty low babe." Y/n teased. Possum looked at her and shook his head.
"I think you far surpass the bar. You're perfect." Possum grinned and Y/n rolled her eyes.
"I'm not sucking your cock after you had me that worried." She said firmly making him nod.
"Would it be too much to get a joint out of my bloody pants...you know, for the pain." Possum asked making Y/n shake her head. He was taking over her world in every way possible and she wasn't mad about it at all. They both laid up in the back of the RV, naked and smoking with the window open until they both got tired enough to doze off. Possum had passed out holding onto her body tightly, face buried into her neck, leaving small kisses until Y/n's breathing had slowed.
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hellfirenacht · 1 year ago
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Upside Down to Inside Out Chapter 2
Fic Summery: It has been four months since anyone has heard from Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. After the Events of the Upside Down, he skips town, leaving you to reflect on the fallout and how your relationship changed during the battle for Hawkins. 1
Chapter Summery: Hellfire goes to the Championship game and Team Surfer Boy looks for El.
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, no use of y/n, reader is not described, sfw
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May 1986
You hadn’t been to a school basketball game since you were in middle school when you’d been dragged by a few friends with the promise of free food. This wasn’t much different, with the school marching band blasting music and the excited chatter of what seemed to be the whole school anxiously waiting for the game to start. 
Eddie had disappeared for a few hours after the final bell rang, only appearing at the last minute to meet you with the rest of Hellfire outside of the gym. He smelled faintly of weed covered with some cheap cologne to avoid suspicion. Shit, that would have been a good idea to have a joint before this. 
Despite his assumed inebriated state, Eddie still held a firm frown on his face that made you wince internally. It was clear he was still upset with the change of plans for the evening, and you didn’t blame him, you really didn’t. But this was something important to a friend, and you hoped he could at least pretend to care long enough for Lucas to see his friends coming out to support him. 
His mood affected the others as well, or at least the more impressionable ones of Jeff and Gareth, who had been in Hellfire the longest. Gareth had always looked up to Eddie, and had always been one to fall in line first with the DM, imitating whatever emotion Eddie had to almost a comical degree. 
Tonight it wasn’t funny, Gareth’s scowl at you seemed to be overkill compared to Eddie’s look of annoyance from having to be here. Jeff and Zack were talking to each other, probably going over some strategy that their characters would use when the final session did happen. Dustin and Mike looked like they had a d4 up their asses from the way they were nervously looking between you and Eddie. 
It always came down to between you and Eddie. Somehow in the year and a half that you’d been a part of Hellfire, you had become his second-in-command with the club. You hadn’t set out to do it, but while Eddie was good at actually running the campaigns you were better at making sure that Higgins didn’t have any reason to disband the club and sweet talking the drama teacher into letting everyone use the prop room for the meetings. 
Hell, you’d been the one to actually make sure that the yearbook club came to take everyone’s photo as proof that you all existed in the school. 
“So,” Dustin said, trying to shift the mood a little. “Should we go inside? I think it’s about to start.”
“Yup, I got everyone’s tickets.” you said, pulling out six slips of paper from your back pocket and handing them out. 
“How’d you get so many tickets to this game?” Jeff asked, looking at the ticket and then at you. 
“I have connections.” you shrugged. The connection being your piggy bank at home that was now starving. You’d probably have to go without your usual supply from Eddie for a while, but it would be worth it, though. You all would make it through the game, Lucas would be happy, and then you all would be able to meet up over Spring Break, beat Eddie’s campaign together as a team, come back to school, graduate, and then maybe you’d finally consider telling Eddie- 
“Henderson!” 
Everyone looked up to see Steve Harrington of all people walking towards the group. There was a pretty blond girl on his arm, who looked confused as to why she was being ushered towards the freaks of Hawkins. 
Dustin had mentioned a few times that he was friends with Steve, and you had honestly thought he was joking. He’d acted like the two of them went on life threatening adventures together, and that Steve was some sort of badass. Mike had backed him up, which added a little bit of credit to his account as Steve had infamously dated Mike’s sister at some point. 
But now there was no doubt in the world that Dustin and Steve knew each other. Both of their faces lit up and soon they were doing some sort of dorky secret handshake that shattered any previous perception that you had of King Steve. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh too much and immediately looked over at Eddie, as if to say ‘Are you seeing this?’. 
Eddie was looking back at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips slightly parted and his eyebrows raised. Yes, he was indeed seeing this, and he looked just as baffled as you were. 
The two of you glanced back at the scene and you looked over at the blond girl who seemed equally as baffled at her date’s sudden burst of dorkiness. 
“I thought you had your nerd club on Fridays!” Steve said, clearly pleased that Dustin was holding a ticket to the game. 
“Yeah we, uh, were able to reschedule for Lucas! Eddie was generous enough to postpone the final session so that we could cheer on the Tigers.” Dustin said, trying to give Eddie credit for the good deed. You couldn’t tell if the attempt at flattery had helped or hurt, as Eddie was reminded why you all were outside of the Gym and not safely tucked away in the prop department. 
Steve looked at Eddie, and there was just something weird about seeing the King and the Freak acknowledging each other in any way. Steve had never so much as glanced at another member of the Hellfire Club, despite his former reputation of being a jackass. You had assumed that you all were beneath him, and yet there was an undeniable real friendship between him and Dustin. 
“Yeah, that’s great!” Steve said, turning his attention back to Dustin. Guess he didn’t know what to say to Eddie, who also didn’t seem to know how to handle this bizarre scenario. 
Steve’s date tugged on his arm, clearly ready to go inside and be around normal people again. Steve and Dustin bumped fists, and he gave everyone else a polite enough parting, making eye contact with you for a moment before the two turned to head into the gym. 
“I’m sorry, was that Steve Harrington that just came over and was willingly seen next to us with a girl?” Jeff asked, looking around at everyone. “Am I dreaming?”
“That sure was.” you said, as Steve and his date disappeared behind the double doors. 
“He’s cool!” Dustin said defensively. “He’s not as bad as you think he is.”
“Didn’t he vandalize the movie theater downtown to call Mike’s sister a slut?” Zack asked, and Eddie’s eyes widened. 
“Jesus.” he muttered. 
“Shut up.” said Mike, glaring at Zack. 
“Alright, that’s enough!” you said, placing yourself between the two. “How about we all just go inside, we’ve stalled long enough.”
In a sea of Hawkin’s Tigers green, the Hellfire club stood out like sore thumbs with their matching shirts. The six of you had managed to find a few spaces on the bleachers to stand around in. You, Eddie, and Jeff were standing a row above Dustin, Mike, Gareth, and Zack. The seven of you barely had time to file into the gym and grab spots before the team was running out onto the court. 
You made sure to cheer as loudly as you could as Lucas ran onto the court with the rest of the team, only losing in enthusiasm to Mike and Dustin. You swear, the only other time you had ever seen Lucas’s face light up like that was was when his character had pulled off a near impossible bluff check last semester that could have ended badly for everyone in the party. It was worth pissing off the whole club, if anything just for this. Even Eddie managed to bring himself to clap with a grimace. You wished that he understood that this wasn’t the end of the world to support his friend. 
Then again, you’d been lucky enough to fly under the radar at Hawkins High. You hadn’t endured the same level of bullying that everyone else in this club had, even on the days that you wore your Hellfire shirt.  
Everyone’s attention was brought back to the court when Higgins was announcing for everyone to stand for the national anthem. 
Tammy Thompson couldn’t carry a tune in the bucket. You were once again looking to meet Eddie’s eyes as the second most bizarre thing to happen today happened. She came back to Hawkins from Nashville to sing at a school function? This day kept getting weirder. 
“Do you think Nashville kicked her out?” Eddie asked, leaning into you. You snorted and elbowed him. It was reassuring that he was at least talking to you and making a joke. 
Tweeeeeeeet
The whistle blew and within a few minutes it was clear that you and the rest of Hellfire was completely lost. The baseline of everyone’s knowledge of the game was that the ball needed to go in the laundry basket hoop, anything beyond that might as well be calculus. 
Jeff and Zack lost interest pretty quickly, almost immediately turning to chat with each other rather than watch the game. When it became clear that Lucas was going to be sitting on the bench, yet again, everyone took their seats and started ignoring whatever was happening on the court. The only ones even trying to figure out what was going on were Dustin and Zack.
“So... how does everyone think the adventure’s going?” you asked, seeing the glazed look in everyone’s eyes as you tried to lighten the mood. 
“We aren’t on an adventure.” Gareth was looking at you like you were crazy. 
“Yeah, we would be on an adventure if we didn’t have to be here.” muttered Jeff. 
“Oh, come on.” you rolled your eyes. “It’s not even that bad. Yeah we have no idea what’s going on, and the person we came to support and cheer on is on the bench-”
“You are terrible at pep talks, mom.” Zack said. 
“I’m better than Jason Carver!” you pointed out, remembering his horrible pep talk this morning at the pep rally. 
“A mime is better at pep talks than Jason Carver.” Mike said.
“Yeah the bar for that is in Hell.” Added Dustin. 
“Gee, thanks guys-” you started. 
“Wait what happened at the pep rally?” Eddie asked, much to your surprise. You knew he skipped, having looked for him earlier in the day in the bleachers but you didn’t think he’d bother to show an interest. 
“He basically said that when their team was losing, he told them to think of dead students and Hopper and how they’d want the team to win.” you provided. “It was really distasteful and gross.”
Eddie looked even more unimpressed that he was here now. “You all could be fighting cultists right now instead of this.” he said, gesturing to the players on the court. “It’s not too late to head to the room, you know.”
He grunted when you punched him in the arm, glaring at him. “Absolutely not.” you said firmly. You’d already have to miss out on anything that required money for the next month getting everyone tickets to this game. “Besides, who says that we aren’t already fighting cultists?” 
He looked at you skeptically, as did the rest of Hellfire. Sometimes, it was hard playing the ‘Team Mom’, the ‘Bad Cop’, the ‘Cheerleader’ as Jeff once even called you much to your distaste.
“Look around, everyone’s wearing the same outfit!” you said.  “The basketball team is clearly performing some sort of ancient money ritual-”
“I’m sorry, a money ritual?” Gareth asked. 
“Wait, that makes sense!” piped up Dustin. “Doesn’t the school get extra funding if the sports team does well?”  
You pointed at Dustin, thankful for the assist. “Exactly! See? So the team’s doing this crazy ritual with a rival cult, right? And everyone in town is showing up because they want in on it, even if they won’t get any of the benefits because the money’s just gonna be funneled back into the cult.” 
“You know, she’s starting to make some sense.” Zack said slowly. 
“I do that often.” You looked back at Eddie. “You said it yourself that Sinclair’s been taken in by the dark side, see? He joined a cult!” You pointed to the bench where Lucas was watching the game intently. 
Eddie followed your gaze and you saw that crack of a smile as well as his shoulders relax just a little. Right, this was working. Just get through the game with everyone in something resembling a good mood and things will work out. 
You were about to start on how the cheerleaders were bards when you noticed someone staring at you from below. Somehow you and Chrissy Cunningham were making direct eye contact with each other. Why would she be looking at you? Why would she be looking at anyone in this area? She realized you were looking back and she quickly turned back to the game, clapping with her pompoms. 
Bizarre count: Three.
It really wouldn’t have made your list of strange happenings for the night had she not kept looking over her shoulder at your group nervously. You realized that it wasn’t specifically you that she was looking at, but (assuming you were not insane) Eddie. Chrissy the Cheerleader was looking over at Eddie the Freak. She looked a little shaken up and you nudged Eddie. 
“Eddie, why does that cheerleader keep staring at you?” you asked, motioning towards the strawberry blonde ponytail that was now bobbing up and down as she cheered for the Tigers. 
“She’s not.” Eddie said quickly, with the undertone of ‘shut up’.
“Oh, she really is.” you said. “She keeps staring directly at you, and she looks... scared.”
You didn’t want to accuse Eddie of anything, you refused to make any sort of judgment without at least asking what was going on. 
His hand wrapped around your arm and he jerked you closer and leaned in close. His voice was so quiet, even this close to your ear you could barely hear him over the sound of the crowd. “I’m selling something to her tonight. Stop drawing attention to this.” 
You quickly shut your trap, though you looked at him in surprise. Prom Queen Chrissy Cunningham was buying off of Eddie? She was the last person that you would ever expect to approach Eddie, let alone buy from him. 
“I’ll shut up, but she should be less obvious.” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. 
The sound of a buzzer echoed through the gym, signally halftime. This was good, the club no longer looked like they were completely miserable being there, just regular annoyed. You were sure that by the end of the game they’d be able to move on and set up a time for the end of Eddie’s campaign. 
Everyone started to disperse, using this time to go to the bathroom or grab snacks. You made your way over to the concession stand, looking over once more at Chrissy, who was talking to two other jocks, you think they were from the football team? She still looked nervous but at least she wasn’t looking at Eddie anymore. 
That was the memory that would haunt you looking back on that night. More than what would happen just a few minutes later, more than the words exchanged between you and Eddie, and more than the large bruise that would appear on your ribs before the end of the night. 
Maybe if Chrissy had kept her eyes to herself, things would have been different. 
September 1986
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Trying to keep up with where all the kids hung out was proving to be an impossible task. You, Jonathan, and Argyle had started with visiting Hopper at his cabin. A few months ago it had been run down and nearly uninhabitable but the past few months had seen changes. There were still parts of the exterior that could use a good coat of paint but it was far more intact than it had been. 
Former Police Chief Hopper wasn’t exactly thrilled to see three stoners showing up at his door unannounced but he didn’t immediately turn you away either. It probably helped that Johnathan and Argyle had been the ones to help El save the world. 
She wasn’t home. It was the weekend and El had disappeared with Mike and the others some time after school and he’d only heard from her twice. The last Hopper heard, they were at Mike’s house. 
Mike’s house proved to be of no help either, with Nancy opening the door. You liked Nancy, she had at least been nice to you in school and the two of you had worked well enough together to solve the Creel mystery as well as her using her own money to help buy Eddie food when he was in hiding. 
You didn’t know if Nancy and Johnathan were together. You knew that had been, but were unsure now. It didn’t help that the two seemed to freeze when they made eye contact, their smiles hesitance and awkward. You and Argyle looked at each other, before Argyle stepped up to the plate to ask if El was there. 
Jonathan just stared at Nancy as she explained that they had been there last night and this morning, but they had run off right after breakfast. She mentioned that they had talked about grabbing something from Dustin’s house before they left. 
Nancy and Johnathan gave each other the most painful and awkward hug you’d ever seen in your life, and you think Nancy kissed his cheek when you turned away. Just like you had only given your new friends snippets of your relationship with Eddie, Jonathan had kept the more intimate details about his relationship with Nancy Wheeler close to his chest since you all started hanging out.
You already knew that the kids were long gone before Ms. Henderson even opened up the door. There were no bikes in the front yard to indicate that anyone other than Dustin’s mother was home. 
Sitting in the Surfer Boy van, you sighed as you all tried to figure out where to go next. The three of you ran down the mental list of all the kids, crossing out where you had been. El, Mike, Dustin... there was always the Beyers house, Lucas’s house, Max’s-
The thought of stepping back into Forest Hills Trailer Park made your stomach turn. You hadn’t been back in months, not since Wayne gave you the news. You highly doubted the kids were even there anyway. 
“We’re getting nowhere with this.” you said, rubbing your face, leaning against the seats. The scent of pleather and weed fogging up your brain as you leaned forward against the driver seat. Months ago it would have just reminded you of Eddie, but the scent memories were slowly shifting to long nights talking to Argyle and Johnathan.
“Man, this would be so much easier if we had that girl's powers!” Argyle said. “We could, like, go lay around in a tub and just think about where she is and we’d know it!”
“Argyle, if we could do that, we wouldn’t even need her to find Eddie.” you snorted. 
“Oh right, we’re looking for Eddie!” 
That just made you laugh more. You probably shouldn’t be trusting Argyle to drive in this state, but here you were, letting him pull out of the driveway of the Hendersons. 
“Wait, shit. I think I know how we can find them” you said. “Take me home, I have an idea.” 
Soon enough you were digging through your drawers, pulling out an old heavy walkie talkie. You hadn’t touched the thing since the last time you saw Eddie. After checking to make sure it had batteries, you brought it back to the van. 
“Those kids always have their walkies on.” you said, flicking it on and extending the antenna. Your hands were shaking a little-
“-NEEDS AN AMBULANCE! DOES ANYONE COPY? EDDIE NEEDS AN AMBULANCE. WE’RE CALLING 911-”
A firm hand on your arm made you jump and you looked up at Johnathan. Right, you were supposed to be using it, not having flashbacks. 
“You’re okay.” he said and you nodded. 
“Dustin, do you copy?” you said into the brick. “This is Team Surfer Boy to Dustin- do you copy?” 
The three of you stared at the walkie talkie. Maybe it was a few seconds, maybe it was a few hours, but the speaker crackled to life and you looked up at Argyle and Johnathan in surprise, relief flooding your face. 
“This is Dustin to Team Surfer Boy, we copy. Over.”
“Dustin where are you and is El with you? Over” you asked. 
“Yeah, we’re all over at Will’s place right now.” 
You looked up at Johnathan who groaned in annoyance. Of course they were at his house. This could have easily been solved with a phone call home- or any phone call. Wait, why were you running all over town again?
Ah, so that’s why weed is not the most conducive to making logical decisions. 
“I repeat, we are all at the Byer’s home now. Is everything okay?” Dustin’s voice repeated. 
“Copy that, Dustin. Everything is fine, no one’s in danger.” you hoped. “Team Surfer Boy is coming to crash the party. ETA fifteen minutes.”   
“Copy that.” Dustin said and you pushed down the antenna again. 
“Alright Brochachos, buckle up! Next stop is Casa Byers!” Argyle said, taking off again. Argyle had been living with them for a few months now. You wondered if he would ever go home. 
You couldn’t imagine Hawkins feeling like home to anyone after everything that happened.
It was just warm enough outside to roll down the windows of the van as Argyle drove. You hoped that the cool air would do you some good as you zipped through the familiar streets towards the new home that Johnathan lived at. You realized that you had never actually been to his home. Everytime the three of you hung out, it was Argyle picking you up from your house, or meeting up somewhere else. 
If you had never been to their house then why did this neighborhood look so familiar to you?
The faint sound of drums and guitar was echoing through the old speakers of the Surfer Boy van. This was also something that didn’t make sense as this song wasn’t exactly Argyle or Johnathan’s usual style of music. It sounded like... 
All the blood drained from your face as you heard the music getting louder. A guitar riff- one not as practiced as it used to be, echoed through the otherwise quiet street. You could basically hear the lyrics in your mind ‘raging through my skin, blazing through my veins’
You had been told that they broke up, that Corroded Coffin was no longer together after Eddie had skipped town. Gareth had made it very clear that he blamed you for the destruction of the band and Hellfire Club. You couldn’t even bring yourself to argue if that was fair or even technically correct. But everyone else agreed that it was better if you all went your separate ways, needing space apart to heal the gaping wound that Eddie’s disappearance had caused. 
Jeff, Gareth, and Zack were healing. You felt your wound start to pull at the seams. 
You slid down in the backseat as you passed by the Emmerson house and pulled in right next door. Of fucking course. Of course Johnathan and Argyle lived next to Gareth Emmerson. Of course Gareth was outside with the friends that shunned you. Of course you’d have to get out of the car and risk being seen by them. 
“You doin’ okay back there?” Argyle asked, turning off the van. 
“Not even a little, why?” you asked, staring at the ceiling. 
“I take it you know those guys?” Jonathan asked, looking next door. The music had come to a stop and though you couldn’t make out any words you knew that Corroded Coffin was standing around and talking now. 
“Yup. That’s.. Hellfire Club. Well, Corroded Coffin. Eddie’s band. We were in Hellfire together.” you explained, wishing you could disappear into the seats. “They hate me.” 
“Mom isn’t too thrilled with them either.” Jonathan said, continuing to look out at your former party members, not being even a little discreet. “She says they make too much noise when she’s trying to work.” 
Music started up again, a cover of an old song that you and Eddie had listened to one night after they played the Hideout. He’d snuck some beers out of the back, you two stayed out all night just talking-
“You aren’t gonna find him in my van.” Argyle said, nudging your leg. “Let’s go talk to the psychic girl and find your friend!”
He was right, you knew he was right. But stepping out and being seen by those you’d given everything to was hard. You sat up and took a deep breath, maybe if they were playing they wouldn’t notice you and you could just sneak into the home. 
If only things could ever be that simple. When you stepped out and the van door slammed shut with an echo, the drumming immediately stopped followed quickly by the rest of the music. 
You froze in place as you made eye contact with Jeff, stuck in place like a deer in the headlights. 
“You know this is a closed practice, right?” Gareth said, stepping out from behind his drums and walking outside of the garage. There was a small line of shrubs that separated the two driveways and you supposed that if Gareth tried to fight you he’d at least be slowed down by that.  
“I’m not here for you, Gareth.” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m here to-” 
You couldn’t tell them that you were here to see a girl with psychic powers who could possibly help you locate Eddie and confirm that he was alive. You wanted to tell them, but the look in their eyes was distrustful, as if your very presence would somehow disrupt their fragile contentment that they had clearly worked hard to piece back together. 
“I’m here to see someone else.” you swallowed and looked at all of them. You should say that they sound good, that it’s clear they’re working hard. Something, any kind of compliment to ease the tension just like you used to. You always were able to get everyone to relax, right?
Maybe the old you could. Maybe Team Mom could. But not now. 
“You should probably not keep them waiting.” Jeff said, and you looked for anything other than contempt and distrust in their eyes. When you didn’t find it, Jonathan placed an arm around your shoulders and led you into the house. 
Maybe it was just easier to be mad at you compared to Eddie. After all, you were the one who stopped Hellfire from having its final campaign session. If everyone had that closure of finishing the Cult of Vecna before Eddie’s grand disappearing act, then maybe they wouldn’t direct their hurt and anger at you. They didn’t want to blame Eddie, and so you were the next best thing. 
It had been easy to push the rejection down when you didn’t see them, when you were spending time with Johnathan and Argyle. But the reminder that you weren’t wanted tugged at the wound inside of you. 
The Byers’ basement was spacious, with plenty of room for any casual group of teenagers to hang out without the bother of parents hovering. As Johnathan directed you down the stairs you saw the party in place. Well, some of them. 
Dustin, Mike, Will, and El were sitting around and watching a movie as you all walked in. The tv paused as everyone greeted each other. 
Of the four, you knew Dustin and Mike the best after a year of adventuring as well as the battle of the Upside Down. Will you barely knew, only hearing stories from Johnathan, and El you had met in person a handful of times. 
“No Sinclair or Max?” you asked, looking around. 
“Max had rehab and Lucas went with her.” Mike said. 
“It’s called physical therapy, Mike.” said Will. 
You nodded, at least one couple might actually make it out of all of this. 
“So.... what are you guys doing here?” Dustin asked, bringing up the elephant in the room. “I take it you didn’t track us down to have a friendly chat?”
“You were looking for me.” El said. 
“Wooah... she’s good.” Argyle said with a nod and you pat him on the shoulder, not having the heart to remind him that you had specifically asked for El over the walkie talkie. 
“Yeah I... I need your help.” you said, walking over to the young girl. Her hair was short, having been buzzed a few months ago. It was slicked back right now, and you couldn’t help but think about how badass she looked, even with her softer features. “I want to find Eddie. Can you help me?” 
The silence was deafening as she looked at you in surprise. The rest of the kids were also looking at each other. 
“Have any of you heard from Eddie...?” you asked, looking around. 
Mike looked over at Dustin who shook his head. “No. No one’s heard from him.” Dustin looked away, and you felt for the kid. He’d looked up to Eddie so much, and you were sure that his disappearance had wounded him the same way it had for you. 
You were going to strangle Eddie if you ever saw him again, if not for yourself then for Dustin and Wayne at least. 
“He probably doesn’t want to be found.” Dustin said. “I mean, he left months ago and no one’s heard from him. I mean, this town still hates him.”
“My dad told me that I’m not allowed to go to Hellfire anymore.” Mike added. “That’s why we come over here to play D&D now.” 
“Hellfire doesn’t even exist at school anymore.” Will chimed in. “Higgins banned it the second school started again.” 
“Which is not fair, because Eddie did nothing wrong.” El said looking at you. “Eddie was a hero and Dungeons and Dragons is a game for nerds and it is bitchin’.”
Eddie would have loved El, you were sure of it. You couldn’t help but smile at her. “Yeah, yeah you’re right, kid.” you said. “Please, El. I just want to know he’s alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere.” 
She looked at the others, a silent conversation happening between them all. El finally nodded. 
“I will look for him.” she said. 
You reached into your wallet, and pulled out a polaroid of you and Eddie. It had been taken a few weeks before everything had gone wrong. You two looked so happy. Eddie was on his throne in the props department, you were standing behind the chair with your arm slung around his shoulders as you pretended to try and look at his DM notes. He was laughing and trying to push you away. 
“I don’t know if you need a picture or anything but, here.” you handed over the photo to El who looked at it. 
February 1986
“I will do my best.” she said. 
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It had been a pain in the ass going to yearbook club every week to remind them that Hellfire Club still hadn’t had any pictures taken for the yearbook but finally they had sent someone to do it. Molly was the only one who had been willing to come and get the few group photos needed, and you were fine with that. The two of you had English together, and she had always been nice enough to those in Hellfire. 
She had just finished taking the group pictures in the hallway of everyone and now you all were back in the drama room. Molly had said that she wanted to take some more dynamic shots, like at any other club. You somehow doubted that anything other than the group shot would make it in, but you appreciated the effort anyway. 
Eddie had already set up his DM screen earlier and was more than happy to ham it up as the freak for a photo. She had taken a few of everyone at the table, pretending to play while getting quotes from everyone about why they liked Hellfire Club and how it “enriched their lives at Hawking High”. 
While Eddie was going on a tangent about his many notebooks he kept to keep track of his game, that’s when you got your idea. You stood up as quietly as you could, sneaking behind him. His back was turned to you as he chatted with Molly, and you leaned over his chair, looking over his shoulder in the most obvious way possible to catch a glimpse of behind the screen. 
“Hey!” Eddie’s head whipped around and he looked at you. “Nu-uh, nope, you know the rules. Get back in your seat.” Eddie grabbed his notebook and slammed it shut. “Nice try.”
“Come on, Eds!” you slipped around him and threw your arm around his shoulder, leaning over more. ”I know you keep track of who your favorite players are, and I want proof that you’re unfairly targeting me!” you joke and reach for the notebook again. 
“Touch my notebook and I’m killing you when the session starts.” he said, and despite his words he was smiling at you. Eddie tried to push you away, but you leaned into the touch instead, feeling his warm hand squish against your face as you reached for the notebook again. 
“Don’t you mean kill my character?” you asked as he pulled the notebook out of reach. 
“Nope. I mean you specifically.” he teased.  
The notebook he was holding wasn’t even where he kept his important notes. You knew that, and he knew that. That was the notebook for doodles and song lyrics, and fucking around. You knew that because you had given him the leather bound notebook that he kept his real notes in last year for Christmas. 
You had forgotten that Molly was even there until-
Flash
September 1986
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El was sitting on the couch, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You’d been told that she had powers, that she could do this but you had never witnessed it. 
She had only looked at the picture for a few seconds before handing it back to you. It was tucked safely back into your wallet for now. 
It had been tense in the room for a few minutes as you all stared at the girl. From what you had been told, she had lost her powers and had just recently had them come back. You had no idea what to expect from this, really. What if she couldn’t find him? What if only some of these powers had come back? 
“I see him.” El’s voice sounded far off, as if she were talking in her sleep, hell maybe she was. “Eddie is... at a store. He is buying cigarettes.” 
Your heart leapt up in your chest as you listened to her. He was alive. Eddie was alive and he still existed somewhere. 
“How... how does he look?” you asked, unsure if she could even hear you in this state. 
“He looks... tired.” El said slowly. 
You wiped at tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. 
“But he’s.. He’s alive? He looks okay? He’s not.. Not hurt?” your voice cracked. 
“I do not think so.” El said. “He is not talking. He is buying cigarettes and a mountain dew.” 
“That’s not real food, Eddie.” you said, a tear escaping your eye. . 
El removed her blindfold and you got up and hugged her tightly. 
“Thank you, El.” you said. “Thank you so fucking much.”
Eddie Munson was alive, but that did little to ease the ache in your heart. Eddie was alive, and you were still slowly dying inside without him. 
Now what?
----
Dividers by @strangergraphics
a/n: Only 2 people showed an interested in this fic, but I love it so I'm gonna write it.
Comments and reblogs feed the muse <3
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lillian-gallows · 1 year ago
Text
Kinktober Day 31: A/B/O with Steve Harrington
Pairing: Alpha!Steve Harrington x Fem!Omega!Reader Word Count: 1649 Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, P in V sex, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), Lil bit of dirty talk, Lil bit of Somnophilia (Reader wake up with Steve already inside her), Knotting. Kinktober Master(sub)list.
Minors DNI
The door closing behind you felt like it was a clap of thunder directly in your face with how oversensitive your felt.
The whole day had been a mess of problem after problem, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.
If you weren’t getting yelled at by a customer you were getting yelled at by your boss, who already treats you like shit for being an Omega because he hates having to accommodate you, which was really only allowing you days off for your heats but leave it to an Alpha to complain about it like they don’t do the same for their ruts.
You’d been on edge all day, brain in a fog when left to your own devices, but teeth on edge the moment you were addressed. You felt like a livewire in the worst way possible. The lights were too bright, the sounds too loud, the very clothes on your back felt like sandpaper.
It was a miracle that you hadn’t had an emotional breakdown at work, though it had been more than tempting during your breaks and bathroom trips.
“Baby? That you?” Came the sweet voice of your mate from the bedroom.
“Yeah.” You managed to call back as you kicked your shoes off your feet, the sound of his steps getting closer rang from the hallway.
“How was work?” Steve smiled as he came into view, but it sank when he saw the state of you, hair disheveled from running your hands through it, eyes tired, shoulders heavy, and you knew your scent carried the reek of your stress. “Baby, what happened?” He asked as he slowly approached, intending to take you into his arms but giving you the chance to reject the touch if you couldn’t handle it right then.
You fell into him, breathing in his warm Alpha scent like it would fix everything. “Everything…” You grumbled into his chest. “Nothing went right today, and everything feels…Wrong…I don’t know what’s wrong with me today…” The sigh that you let out was almost a whimper as the emotions returned to the surface, finally in a space that was safe to release them.
There had been no hesitation on Steve’s part to wrap his arms around you and hold you tight, and you felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair to scent you, then letting out a hum. “I think I know…” He murmured softly.
It took effort but you managed to pull your face from his chest just enough to look up at him. “Hm?”
“Baby, your heat is coming, soon from how sweet you smell…You can’t feel it?” He asked, brow lifted as he examined your face, flushed and a little pallid.
Now that he pointed it out, you could feel it. That explained why all your senses seemed to be set to max, why your emotions were on a hairpin trigger, and why your brain fog had been almost entirely dirty thoughts of him. Everything else was just a bad day made worse.
You pressed your face back into his chest with an annoyed groan. “Of course…Why didn’t I think of that?” You grumbled. You’d have to call your boss and let him know you’d be calling out in the next couple of days for your heat, and he’d bitch about it for half the call and be pissy when you came back.
“No, no. None of that.” Steve said pulling you back from your hiding spot to hold your face in his massive warm hands. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll call your boss for you. If he has anything to say about it, he can say it to me.” How Steve always seemed to read your mind you’d never know, but you were so thankful for it. “For now. How about you go take a nice hot shower while I order us some dinner? Then we can watch movies till bedtime?” He suggested, brown eyes warm with affection.
You couldn’t resist the smile that found your face as you nodded. “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah?” He prodded teasingly, pursing his lips in a mock pout, pulling a giggle from you.
“Yeah.” You confirmed.
“Good. Go on.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then another to your lips, before letting you go shower.
You and Steve spent that evening relaxing till you slipped into a wonderful sleep, warm and safe and loved.
That sleep was cut short, however, before the sun rose the next morning when you woke to the feeling of fullness as Steve fucked into you from behind, deep rolls of his hips pumping his cock into you slowly, drawing out every sensation.
A raspy moan fled your lips to signal your consciousness, and his hold on you tightened. “Hey, Baby…” He breathed against the back of your neck. “Your heated started while you were sleeping…” He let out a breathy groan as you clenched around him. “Figured this was a better way to wake up than a cramp.” He chuckled breathlessly.
He was right, this was far better than waking up covered in a cold sweat with your lower belly cramping.
He had his arms wrapped around you, one hand massaging your tender breast while the other was buried between your thighs, rubbing slow circles on your clit, and his lips were leaving little marks along the back and side of your neck, saving that one spot you wanted him most for later.
“Fuck…Steve…” You moaned, feeling the first of many orgasms start to wash over you, causing your cunt to grip him like a vice.
He let out a low growl as the sensation, barely keeping himself from cumming, as he continued to pump into you, letting you ride it out.
As quick as it was over, your arousal was back again, body starting round two before round one was even over as slick continued to drench his cock, leaking out to coat your thighs.
“Ngh…Please…More.” You whimpered, tugging at his arm as if to pull him closer even though he was as close a person could possibly get.
But he knew want you wanted. He always knew.
Pulling out of you for a moment, he was immediately met with a protesting sound from you. “I know, I know…You’ll get it again in a second…” He soothed as gentle hands turned you onto your front, pulling your hips up just enough to get a comfortable angle before settling behind you.
There was no teasing, that was for normal sex, not when you needed him with every fiber of your being all the way down to your atoms.
Pushing back into you alleviated the ache that even a few moments without him had caused, and the slow press of his hips made it disappear entirely, the nudge of his not yet full knot against your pussy made you press back into him, body craving it as much as the orgasm that was surely on its way.
A whine from your lips was all the signal Steve needed to know that slow was far from what you wanted or needed, so with his hands gripping your hips, and your own gripping the sheets, he started a punishing pace.
His tip slamming into your cervix while his shaft pressed firmly against your g-spot, it was everything you could do to keep from screaming out with relief, which looked like pressing your face into the bedding to muffle the sound.
But Steve wouldn’t stand for that as his fingers threaded into your hair at the root and pulled, lifting your head from the mattress with a gasp. “Don’t you dare hide that pretty voice, Omega…” He ordered, voice low and commanding, the sound was enough to make you clench around him.
“Steve…Alpha…!” You pleaded on gasping breaths.
“That’s it. Tell the whole world who you belong to, Sweetheart…So good for me…” His hand slipped free of your hair and made its way back between your thighs, determined to see you fall apart on him again when he gave you his knot.
The room was full of your begging voice and the messy slick sounds of where his body met yours, skin slapping skin, his heavy breaths and occasional growls underlining all of it.
It was music to your ears.
The press of his knot soon became insistent as he neared his end, but ever the amazing Alpha, he would see you taken care of first, so his lips ceased their tender trail of kisses to sink teeth into your neck, marking you in the way your body craved so desperately, and driving you clear off the edge of ecstasy.
At the same moment your quivering muscles clamped down on him, he pressed his knot into you, filling you past full of both his cock and his cum, a feeling so warm it bordered on scalding.
Your body continued to milk him for all he was worth for a long handful of moments, slow presses of his hips against yours was all the aid he could offer without risking hurting both of you, but it was more than enough to help both of you ride it out.
Now a puddle of whimpers under him the only word you could murmur was his name like a mantra, body sated for the moment as he turned you back onto your side, settling behind you as he curled his body around yours, careful not to tug the place where you were connected for both your sakes.
“Shh, Sweetheart. Just rest, I’m right here.” He whispered into your hair as his hands trailed up and down your body soothingly, an aftershock spasm causing you to clench around him had him pulling in a shuddery breath.
“Love you, Steve.” You whispered as you came back to yourself.
“I love you too.”
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potol0ver · 2 years ago
Note
Howdy pardner 🤠🐴
You said you were begging for a request for Erik to worship someone. I don’t know if you’re doing specific requests, but here’s one if you’re up for it:
Musical!Erik x Y/N
Erik had a really rough day dealing with the manager’s bullshit or smthn like that. Y/N comes down to visit him, and sees how upset he is. They ask what they can do to help him, and after collecting himself, he half-smiles.
“You can let me admire you~” He then proceeds to thoroughly kiss and praise and tease Y/N (consensually) as a stress-reliever and a way to redirect his emotions.
#LetThisManGetWhippedForHisS/O
- Yeehaw Anon 🐴
OH HELL YES- i love this idea. Also im leaving this one open ended at the end to keep it GN, don’t worry i have a smut prompt waiting for me to write it so if you want direct smut it’ll be out sometime this week most likely <3
Tags; Soft dom Erik x GN Reader, suggestive towards the end, fluffy, simi smut, Erik being obsessed with you, chest play (not said to have boobs though), short and sweet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of Erik’s organ rang through the catacombs as you walked down to his lair. You knew the rehearsal went wrong but you didn’t expect it to go so wrong he’d be hitting his organ keys this hard. Breathing in and sighing you finally made it to Erik’s abode and well… he looked pissed. His wig and mask were off, and playing the organ while standing.
Walking closer you practically tell his name so he could hear you. Once he did hear you he whipped his head towards you with an angry expression that quickly softened seeing you there. Defeated he plopped down on his organs bench and placed his head in his hands.
“You have no idea how bad today went,” he said with a slight roughness to his voice, almost like his voice was sore from yelling, “Carlotta wouldn’t take the advice from the conductor, and by doing that sabotaging the rehearsal,” you stood beside him now placing a hand in his back as he ranted, “the ballet dancers were supposed to try out a new routine but since Madame Giry had family matters to attend to the ballet dancers looked like they had two left feet, and the prop people were too drunk to do anything on cue, it was a shit show.”
Holding back a laugh at his word choice, you just sigh and console him. “That truly does sound like a shit show, I'm sorry that happened my love. Especially Carlotta, my spine has chills just thinking about what she sounded like, and not in a good way.” Erik gives a slight chuckle as you sit on the bench next to him. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Sitting up Erik looked at you with eyes and asked “Can we snuggle please?”
“Of course my love,” quickly standing up you lead Erik by his hand to the bed. Once you got to the bed you laid down, he followed by climbing in next to you and holding you close burying his face into your neck. Slowly rubbing circles unto his back he slowly started to melt into you, finally relaxing.
You were about to fall asleep when he started to kiss your neck. “Erik, you should be relaxing.”
“Please, I need to worship you right now,” he begged into your neck as he started to put his hands under your clothes. Given you always got flustered when he paid attention to you like this, you could only muster up a nod. Soon enough his hands started to undo your clothing, all while his kisses on your neck never stopped.
Once your chest was exposed fully to him, he gently started to massage your chest. You couldn't help but let out some small whines as Erik kissed his way down to your nipple and popped it into his mouth. Gently rolling it with his tongue, his hands worked on getting your lower half naked too.
Once your whole body was exposed to him, Erik just gently ghosted his hands over your thighs to your waist and back down again. As much as you loved this you needed more, your hips slightly rolled trying to gain any friction they can. “Please Erik, stop teasing me.”
“No no, please, please let me bask in you. You feel divine.” he whined against your chest, barely letting your nipple go when he begged. You could tell tonight was going to be a long night for you.
261 notes · View notes