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notprofessionalwriting · 4 years ago

Text

. 1:47am . - Part Two

DAMAGED GOODS

Corpse Husband X FemReader

Summary: After accidentally calling Corpse, Y/N and him are trying to not be awkward in a park, so they play 20 questions. Corpse won’t let Y/N forget she ignored his 8ball request (she 100% did)

Warnings: slight angst if you squint, cursing, mentions of car accidents and guns being pulled

A/N: i literally cant believe anyone read part one, thank you sm for the nice words and stuff :)

Part 2 of ????

PART ONE

3:46am

You were sitting on a park bench with your skateboard next to you. The world around you was quiet, other than the occasional car speeding down the busy road next to the park. You pulled out your phone and checked your notifications, nothing. The last text you got was 10 minutes ago from Corpse saying he was on his way.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you questioned yourself as you looked down at your board. It’s from junior year of high school. It was a beaten up Black Label skateboard, one that your crush from high school picked out for you. The only time you ever actually used it was when the two of you rode your boards together downtown after school. That was until he then began dating your other friend - then you never touched it again.

Your gaze never parted from the board until your phone buzzed as your phone screen lit up. A text from Corpse appearing across your screen.

3:48am

Corpse: here.

You lifted your head and looked around in the darkness. The park around you is completely empty, the swings standing lifeless as the grim night air creeps around you. A slight chill makes it’s way up your spine and you began thinking to yourself, ‘am I going to be fucking murdered?’ The fear began to sneak upon you, your skin now crawling. Eventually, you heard the sound of a skateboard rolling towards you. Slowly, you’re able to make out the figure on the board as it begins to approach you.

Tall, slender build, curly hair hid under a beanie, dressed in all black with a pullover hoodie. They effortlessly rode the board until their foot touched the ground, the board now stopped before you. They had a mask on, hiding most of their facial features aside their eyes and up. You were in shock, this is the first time you’ve seen him in person. In fact, you weren’t even sure if Sykkuno ever actually met up with him, despite living in the same city. Your nerves began to creep up more as you studied what features of him were available to view. So far, you declared he has the prettiest set of brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Hey, y/n.” he spoke quietly, his deep voice erupting into the eerie night air. He stepped off his board and sat next to you onto the bench.

“Hey, Corpse” you responded while giving him a small smile, looking down at your hands and twiddling with them. You were nervous being in his presence. Something about how mysterious he’s always been caused you to feel intimidated. Though, in person, you saw how anxious and awkward he actually was. He wasn’t looking you in the eyes, his hands were stuffed in his pocket and wait- was he shaking? This all made you wonder, why were you so nervous?

He let out a breathy laugh and turned to face you, studying your features. You felt blush begin to rise to your cheeks. His high pitch laughter was one you had originally only heard through your headphones in-game, hearing it in person was a whole different experience.

“You nervous?” he questioned you

“Uhh,” you locked eyes to him, you could tell he was smirking underneath his face mask with the way his eyes moved, “yeah actually, really fucking nervous honestly.”

“Me too,” he chuckled and leaned forward, not making eye contact with you anymore. He rested his arms on his knees, “really fucking nervous.”

“Why?” you let your eyes rest on his figure, studying his movements as he adjusted his beanie and anxious pulled his sleeves down to cover his hands.

“It’s the first time I’ve been out of my apartment in fuckin’ days,” he slumped into the bench now while looking off into the nighttime, “Plus I haven’t seen more than half of my friends in person. Uhh, actually all of my friends.”

“Well, ain’t I special?” you said, confusion festering inside of you. You felt yourself so intrigued by every movement and word that let his mouth. You wanted to watch him and listen to him talk for hours. What the fuck is happening?

He looked over at you, yet another smirk hiding underneath his mask, “I wanted to ask you in person…”, he adjusted his seating to now face you again, “Why the fuck did you ignore my 8-Ball request?”

You stared deadpan, another laugh escaping you, “No fucking way. I totally fucking responded to that.”

“No you didn’t,” he quickly responded, “you definitely didn’t.”

“You brought me in the middle of a park at basically 4am to argue about 8-Ball?” You questioned him, watching his features soften more. A smile grew upon his face, brightening what you could see of his face.

“Yes, yes I did actually.” You didn’t respond, instead you squinted your eyes and stared at him. “I-uh- I wanted to also, you know, actually talk to you?” He mumbled, “We never actually talk. Plus, you called ME at wee fucking hours in the mornin. Don’t you spin this around on me.”

“It was an accident!!” You retorted, laughter escaping your lips so easily it felt natural to be sitting and laughing on a bench with him, “I didn’t mean to be weird and randomly call you!”

He moved slightly close to you, slowly closing some of the space between the two of you, “Well, I was the weird one and asked you to hang out at 3am, so we’re even I guess.”

You could smell his cologne and aftershave, and fuck it smelled amazing. He continued to mess with the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling them over his hands and tucking them anxiously in his pockets.

“Okay, okay, my turn. What made you ask me to ‘chill’ in this park?”

You studied him, awaiting his response. “Same reason you ‘accidentally’ called me,” he said, putting air quotation marks over the word accidentally.

“Oh?” you jokingly questioned him, “and what’s that?”

You wondered what he looked like under the mask. You wondered how his hair looks under his beanie. You wondered if he smelled even better under the layers of his hoodie and what appeared to be another sweatshirt underneath. Your mind began to wonder how his voice sounded like when he first woke up, or what he sounded like when he was half asleep. More thoughts began to dance throughout your head as you stared at him, looking at his eyes which showed he was smiling under his mask.

“I wanted to get to know you better. Ya’know, actually talk and stuff.” He responded, breaking the shared eye contact and looking around you.

“And stuff?” you giggled, watching his nervous reaction. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pocket again.

“I don’t fucking know, what do normal socially inclined people do?”

------------

4:11am

“Okay, how about this,” you spoke into the uncomfortable silence that fell between the two of you after you ran out of small talk. You two were staring at each other, motionless. “20 questions?”

“20 questions?” he questioned you, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion

“Yeah, why not?” you laughed nervously, something about him made your nerves on high alert, “you start!”

You positioned yourself to face him on the bench, crossing your legs in front of you and resting your arms on your legs. You gauged his reaction, the look of confusion flooding his face.

“Uhhhhhh,” he turned to face you, mimicking the way you were sitting - crossing his legs in front of him on the bench, “uhh- i don’t fucking know, favorite color?”

“Blue!” you exclaimed, “I’ve always loved darker shades of blue, like turquoise or- well it’s not blue-blue but aquamarine too.”

“Aquamarine? That’s a fancy color, heh. Guess mine.”

“Black?” you giggled, looking his outfit up and down, it was about fifty shades of black.

He laughed his signature high pitched laughter, adjusting his sleeves to again cover his hands, “Correct. How did you guess?”

“Oh just a hunch, that’s all. It’s your turn.”

“Uhhh,” he pulled out his phone and began typing rapidly. You stared at his hands, luminated from his phone screen. His chipped black nail polish was uneven on his nails, his rings shining bright against the light. His hands were veiny, you found yourself unable to look away, “I’m ass at these things, so lemme google something.” He began clicking rapidly, “…. Okay okay I’m ready. Got some questions and all” He held his phone up to hide the questions as he stared at them.

“That’s cheating!” you giggled, reaching for his phone, “you’re a fucking cheater!”

“No, no, no, there are no rules. You did not say any rules. No rules! Ahem- okay.” he cleared his throat, scrolling through the question list, “holy fuck these questions. Ok- okay this one is good. So, ahem,” he put on a fake announcer voice, causing you to giggle even more, “Have you ever been in a car accident — and it was your fault?”

“Well damn,” you laughed, “where the fuck did you find these questions?”

“Hey man, I didn’t write the question. Anyway, you gotta answer it. Spill the beans, hunny”

“Oh geez, well yes, I have been in a car accident, no I didn’t cause it.” You watched as his face softened, a look of sorrow clouding his dark eyes, “It was when I was in high school. A friend of mine- an old friend- was driving and another car blew a red light. It was a minor accident. No one was hurt or anything, but it fucked with my anxiety for a while. I still hate driving now. So I prefer public transportation.”

“Oh fuck- I’m glad you’re okay- jesus fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, I was paranoid about any cars. I refused to get in them for about a year, but I’m able to drive now, no worries. Anyway- your turn.”

“I for one, have never been in a car accident, thankfully. However, I have had a gun pulled on me inside of my car, if that counts.”

“You WHAT?” you interrupted him, leaning closer to him, “ex-fucking-cuse me?” His nonchalant way about talking about that baffled you.

He giggled, how was he giggling over this? “Yeah it was fucking wild man, straight fucking wild. I lived though.”

“Okay, my turn. Why the fuck did you have a gun pulled on you?”

“You’re not letting that go, huh?”

“NO.” You shot back at him, “that’s fucking nuts.”

“It happened so fast, I can barely recall most of it. Guy tried to rob me, but I’m too fucking broke and didn’t have anything. Threatened to blow my head off, then fucking left. I still don’t know why the fuck he picked me. Do I even appear to look like I have any sort of value? But I lived, so there’s that.”

“Oh my fucking god.” That’s all you could manage to say, the thought of anything bad happening to him now begins to worry you. You have the strong urge to protect him from all evil, at any costs.

“Yeah- straight fucking nuts. Anyway, my turn.” He began to scroll through the questions pulled up on his phone, letting out hmms and huuhs? until he finds a question that he deems worth asking, “What embarrasses you the most and/or what’s been your most embarrassing moment?”

“Hmmmm,” you took a moment to ponder the question, there’s a lot of things you’ve done that really embarrass yourself, “Okay so I was on a date with this guy I was really into in college, like I loved this guy before we even went out.”

“Was he cute?” Corpse asked, resting his elbows on his legs and his head on his hands, a pensive stare in his eyes as he peered at you.

“Uhhhh, really fucking cute actually….,” you were lost in his eyes, you couldn’t make out the rest of his face, but you’ve declared him as one of the most attractive people you’ve seen, “... uh anyway, so we were out on a date-”

“I can’t relate.” he interrupted, laughing again.

“Huh?” you, again, we snapped out of your story.

“Being on asked dates, can’t relate. I have never been asked on a date.”

“I don’t believe that. Anyway-”

“O really? I legit have never been asked out on a date,” he let out a breathy laugh, “I’ll let you finish though.”

“Well this isn’t a good date, anyway we were at the movies on a date and it happens to be the same exact movie theater his ex was at. Same movie, same time, same everything.”

“Oh no…” Corpse knew exactly where this was headed.

“Yuuupp, it was a ploy to run into his ex-girlfriend. They ended up getting back together right after that happened. Exact reason I hate the entire Purge series now.”

“Evil. Straight fucken evil. I’m sorry.” he leaned his hand over to lay it on your leg, “that’s actually fucked.”

He was touching you. His hand was on your leg, right above your knee. You felt the sensation of touch shoot up from your leg to your stomach. Your heart began pounding a thousand beats a second. Why were you acting this way? Why was your heart racing at an innocent touch to express sorrow? You tried your best to ignore it.

You shrugged, although it still has taken a major shot to your self esteem, “I mean, it still stings but they have two kids now so, good for them I guess.”

“At least you’re not spending the money on diapers now,” he laughed, moving his hand away and giving you finger guns, “that shit is outrageous.” That was the cutest shit you’ve ever seen.

“Okaay, my turn. So have you really never been asked on a date?” You watched his reaction, he quickly rubbed the back of his head again, letting out an anxious laugh.

“I mean, I’ve been on dates with my ex before and like, two other people, but I was the one to always ask ya’know. I never had anyone take interest in me first. I’m always the initiator. It’s not really that deep though. I actually like not being bothered with relationship shit honestly. Anyway, my turn.”

Why did that upset you? You felt a ping in your heart. A ping of sadness. What’s wrong with you?

He scrolled through the questions a bit, searching for a good one to ask.

“Okay, this one isn’t as cringe, what's the luckiest thing that's ever happened to you?”

You thought for a moment, looking at him staring back at you. A smile forming underneath his mask despite the lack of sleep hitting you both. The early morning sky began to form around you two on the park bench, you couldn’t deny it, he was attractive. You couldn’t see his face fully, but his visible features were inviting. You wanted to see what he was hiding on the mask. He had warm eyes, curly mess hair, you imagined he was more attractive than you imagined under the mask. “Well, I’m sitting on a fucking park bench at like 5am with Corpse Husband. Completely unplanned, no sleep at all. Answering questions about our lives in the darkness. Totally random, almost face reveal and all.”

Wait what the fuck - were you just flirting with him? Why are you flirting with him? You couldn’t tell, but he seemed to blush.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” he laughed leaning over and playfully nudging your arm, “this is after you randomly called me, don’t forget that.”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!”

“I knew you never actually wanted to talk to me.”

“Ohmyfuckinggod.” you reached over and snatched the phone from his hand. In the process, you accidentally touched his hands, you felt another surge of butterflies rush through you again. You tried to brush them away and scrolled through the questions, “do you believe in soulmates?”

Of all questions, you asked that one. You wanted to smack yourself. What were you doing?

He raised his eyebrows, bringing his hands to his chin, rubbing the front part of his mask. You wondered what he looked like without the mask on again. Thoughts of his skin racing through your mind, “Huh. I don’t honestly. I don’t think anyone is truly meant for anyone. Love is fucking hard, yaknow? Sure you can be attracted and interested in someone. But to actually have a meaningful, fulfilling relationship, it doesn't just happen. You need to actually want it. Want to actually work and build with them. No one is someone’s actual soul mate. Don’t even get me started if someone dies.”

“Period sis,” you laughed, “I’d like to believe there’s someone for everyone though.” You were a hopeless romantic, it’s showing.

“My person is the one that probably was murdered or something,” he laughed, looking down at his pant legs, “I kinda gave up on relationships and shit anyway. I’m not really the ideal partner.”

“Why?” you didn’t mean to ask that immediately after he spoke, it slipped out

“It’s my turn, mam.” He laughed, taking his phone back, “ooooh here’s a goodie, when you can’t sleep at night, what keeps you awake?”

“Everything,” you blurted out, laughing, “fucking everything.”

“Mood.”

You paused for a moment, letting go on any filter you’ve had set, tiredness is setting in and you have no control over your words, “I always feel like I’m never really good enough, yaknow? Like I don’t really belong anywhere. I feel like I’m an outsider everywhere. I guess, I guess that’s what keeps me awake at night. Damn that got really fucking emo.”

He nodded, the two of you not speaking for a good minute. He finally broke the silence, “Yeah, yeah. I actually fully understand that feeling.”

“My turn,” you didn’t look at the phone this time, “so why did you give up on relationships? Or finding in love, or whatever.”

Why did you care so much? Why are you asking him this?

He took a deep breath, letting up a breathy chuckle, “Ah fuck, I-I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this before - like out loud.” He paused for a brief second, you were moments away from telling him it was fine without answering, but he continued on, “I- I don’t really see myself as a good partner honestly. Like, I don’t go outside much. I don’t show myself anywhere - that’s actually unfair to my partners. I can’t see myself being able to fully invest myself into a relationship either, I have so much other shit going on. My life it’s self is a fucking mess, I’m a fucking mess. I don’t deserve that sense of happiness either.”

“Why’s that?” You questioned him, staring into his eyes. Those big brown eyes shined back.

“I just don’t. I can’t go outside without fucken panicking, without worrying someone will find me. That’s why my ex left me. I couldn’t do anything with her, no, for her. She wanted to go out and do all of these lavish things, but me? I couldn’t. Literally would fucken panic at the thought. Hyperventilate, shake. What the fuck is wrong with me? I wouldn’t want any parts of that either. She got tired of waiting for me to fix myself and left. I can’t blame her, she had every right to. I can’t see myself committing to anything. I’m so accustomed to everyone leaving. I-I can’t put myself through that heartbreak. I don’t want to put myself through heartbreak again. I- I don’t know. I’m scared to get attached. I-”

You were staring at him, lost in his eyes. Lost in the emotion of his voice as he spoke. Raw, unfiltered, passionate, and real. Every croke as he spoke, every pause, stutter. Your heart was about to break. Who hurt him so badly that they caused him to feel broken? To feel betrayed? To feel so unloveable. You wanted to speak, but you were lost in him confessing his heart to you randomly on a park bench in the center of the city.

“Corpse,” you breathed out, watching the tears begin to well up in his eyes. Wait, he’s about to fucking cry. Holy shit. How do you calm a crying person? Do you even have tissues on you? You’re not prepared for this.

He turned his head away and cleared his throat, trying to hide his watering eyes, “Fuck I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-uhhhhhh- fuck- uhhh, ignore me.”

“Corpse,” you again said, reaching over to grab his hand. You made contact with the top of his hand, feeling the top of his rings grace underneath your palm. His skin is soft and warm. How the fuck is his skin so soft? You wrapped your hand around his and you lost control, you squeezed his hand to let him know you were there. You were listening, processing his emotion. You were letting him know you cared.

“Thank you, y/n.” he looked back over at you, flipping his hand around so your palms are now touching. He intertwined your fingers together. His eyes are watering still, now vulnerable and more alive.

You were holding hands. Your heart began racing, you imagined it would jump out of your chest. He scooted himself directly next to you, your legs touching now. He rested his head on your shoulder, keeping your hands intertwined. His hair smelled like… was that cherry blossoms? His head was heavy on your shoulders, but it never felt so perfectly placed. He let out a deep sigh and you felt the breath on your shoulders. You began to panic inside, but it wasn’t a bad panic. It was a nervous panic.

“Of course,” you whisper, laying your head on top of his, “damaged goods gotta stick together.”

#corpse x reader #corpse husband #.stories.#notprofessionalwriting #corpse x y/n #corpse fanfic #corpse x you #screams internally

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kjmsupremacist · 4 years ago

Text

the places you have come to fear the most (jeno/jaemin)

Jeno and Jaemin entered SM in the same year; they sat next to each other in classes all through school. Sometimes, they fell asleep holding hands. They’re very different people, but they fit together well. They know everything about each other–their favorite foods, their dreams, their fears. As they grew a little older, they came to realize they were in love. Jeno sometimes finds himself struggling to balance his private and public lives as he grapples with the depth and, at some times, dark nature of his love for Jaemin.

Part 2 | Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Masterlist

Characters: Jeno, Jaemin, the rest of nct intermittently

Genre: angst, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort

Pairings: Jeno/Jaemin, mentions of Johnten and Dotae

Warnings: self-doubt, body horror/gore/blood (all hypothetical, but discussed VERY graphically)

Rating: Explicit

Length: 3.6k

you can listen to the official playlist here!

taglist: @weishendery

Actually, you said, Love, for you,

is larger than the usual

romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s

terrifying. No one

will ever want to sleep with you.

—Richard Siken,��Crush

A pillow hit Jeno square in the back of the head. He turned slowly, glaring at the culprit.

“Stop staring at each other like that,” Chenle said, poised to throw another pillow.

“Like what?” Jaemin asked, leaning right into Jeno to grab the pillow from where it was resting behind him and throwing it back.

“All gooey-eyed,” Chenle replied, deflecting it.

“Get out of our dorm, then,” Jeno said softly. Jaemin giggled.

“I hate to admit it, but they’re not bothering anyone but you,” Renjun added, looking up from the drawing he was doing at the table. “They’re always like this. Why bring it up now, instead of, like, six years ago?”

“Jisung’s busy,” Chenle said with a shrug, “and I’m bored.”

Jeno flicked his eyes to Jaemin’s, stifling a laugh. Jaemin snorted quietly, butting the top of his head against Jeno’s sternum.

It was early summer; promotions for Ridin’ had wrapped up weeks and weeks ago. They were free for the moment, and while all of them enjoyed being busy, it was nice to be able to catch their breath. They couldn’t go out because of all the restrictions, which suited Jeno just fine. His perfect day always involved Jaemin, and it was all the better that they had an excuse to be out of the public eye.

Most days were like today, colored sweet, dark pink like strawberry wine, lethargic and warm. Chenle was bothering them, which wasn’t a bother at all; Hyuck was busy with 127 and Jisung had something going on, so the dorm was oddly quiet. The only way Jeno’d be happier is if he was lying on top of Jaemin instead of just sitting next to him.

The lying on top of each other came later that night. He’d meant it literally—it was nice to get half-crushed by Jaemin in his bed—but these days it always seemed to lead to something else. Jeno wanted more, always more, and though he knew sex wasn’t what he meant when he said it, it could never hurt. Besides, he didn’t know how to say what he really meant—that he wanted to reach into Jaemin’s chest and learn the beat of his heart with his palms, without having all that skin and bone and blood in the way. That he wanted to sift through Jaemin’s organs and see what he could find. He wasn’t even sure what he’d look for. Absolution, maybe. Clemency.

But as well as he knew Jaemin knew him, as starkly and precisely as he knew Jaemin saw him, Jeno couldn’t imagine he’d understand it if he even tried to explain. He’d run screaming out of his door before he even got past the first sentence. And honestly, Jeno wouldn’t be able to blame him if he did. All he knew was he’d be lost without Jaemin. So he kept it tucked away, buried deep, deeper than even Jaemin would think to look.

Jeno let Jaemin sit them up, his thighs resting on top of Jeno’s, both of their legs outstretched on either side of them, Jaemin's knees just slightly bent. He let Jaemin scoot close and take his head in both hands and kiss into his mouth. It was good. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough.

“I love you,” Jaemin said, sweet and dark and heavy. Like strawberry wine. Like blood. He kept his forehead against Jeno’s forehead; his hands on Jeno’s cheeks, fingers brushing back the hair at his temples. “My heart.”

“I love you, too.” Jeno stilled, breathing in Jaemin’s exhale. His breath smelled like coffee and mint and Jeno.

“I know,” Jaemin murmured, releasing Jeno’s face in favor of tugging at the hem of his tank top.

Jeno helped him through the process of getting their clothes out of the way, lazy and meandering. They never rushed; there was some unspoken agreement between them that it was better to do it slow and careful. They both liked to take their time, tracing over freshly exposed skin before moving on to the next article of clothing.

Jaemin bent over Jeno's chest, teething at the skin to start the first of what Jeno knew would be many dark purple splotches. Jeno brought his hand up to the nape of Jaemin's neck almost subconsciously, and sort of petted the last inch of hair there, tiny movements, sighing when one of Jaemin's canines sank a little too deep. Jaemin hesitated for only half a second, but, correctly deducing that this was a happy sigh, continued his careful work.

"Baby," Jeno said anyway, saturating his tone with affection. Not that it was a hard thing to do.

Jeno knew they were a bit of an odd couple, even though they acted like soulmates. He had a theory that it had something to do with meeting very early on and becoming inseparable shortly after that. You sort of grow into your sexuality, into the ways you like to be romantic and the ways you don't. Maybe if he and Jaemin had met later on, things would be all different. Or maybe it was just that they were actually not soulmates at all, but two people who were just too attached to let go, even if they didn't quite fit at first. Something like breaking in a new pair of shoes. It might hurt, but you wanted the damn shoes, you know?

Not that loving Jaemin was hard for him. That, Jeno could do better than anything in the world. And he knew it was the same for Jaemin. It was just that Jaemin called him things like my heart and my love and moon to my ocean when he had the breath. And Jeno just called Jaemin baby. Or Jaem if he just wanted one syllable. And it kind of sounded unfair. Jeno worried about it at first—he called Jaemin dumb things, boring things, while Jaemin was practically writing him poetry. But when he brought it up to Jaemin, apologetic, Jaemin told him to knock it off.

"But that's what everyone calls their—their person," Jeno had said. "Just—the same kind of nicknames. You call me nice things, pretty things. You should have something special instead of something that's the same as what everyone else is called."

"It's not the same," Jaemin had argued back. "You're the one saying it, so it's not the same."

Jaemin's mouth was on his stomach now; Jeno peered down and saw pretty, dark marks scattered across his chest. They meant he was Jaemin's. Jaemin's, and nobody else's, and nobody to see.

Jaemin tugged down his sweatpants, following with his tongue, skimming over his boxers where Jeno's cock was already on its way to half-hard, landing a kiss to his inner thigh, over a vein. He kept going, all the way to about halfway down his calves before he focused his attentions on free Jeno's ankles from his pants. A second later, they were falling to the floor, and Jaemin was crawling back up the bed on his knees. Close-up, Jeno could see his dick-print, clear as day in his grey sweats. He gave him a rather accusatory look.

"You're not wearing underwear," he stated.

Jaemin shrugged. "I'm the one that needs prepping, anyway." He took one of Jeno's hands and placed it on his waistband. "So c'mon."

When they first started out, Jaemin prepped himself. Jeno thought it was because he didn't trust him to do it, but Jaemin later admitted it was because he thought Jeno wouldn't want to, that it was too much work or something. Jeno had made a point of fingering him till he came, twice, breathless and defeated that night just to show how much he wanted to. How much he wanted him.

Jeno's want for Jaemin tore holes inside of him, all sharp teeth, trailing his inky, viscous blood. He curled his fingers around Jaemin's waistband till he was making a fist, knuckles white, skin stretched tight. He kept his eyes on Jaemin's stomach, flickering them lower once he tugged Jaemin's sweats down far enough. Jaemin sat back on his heels right as Jeno was thinking about opening his mouth, and then rolled back onto his ass so he could kick his pants the rest of the way off. Jeno let go of the fabric, eyes running over Jaemin's whole body, finally bare. He watched the smooth ripple of muscle, the rolling of bones under his skin, and he wanted.

Jaemin extended a hand, and Jeno leaned forward until Jaemin's fist closed around his hair. He let Jaemin drag him forward until his face was right next to his cock. His grip didn't loosen until Jeno let his jaw go slack and Jaemin had him positioned over the head. Jeno pushed his tongue out further, and Jaemin released his hair slowly, letting him sink down on him.

Jeno kept going until he felt the head nudge at the back of his throat, until his nose was pressed flat to Jaemin's pubic bone. Jaemin let out a shuddering sort of moan, and Jeno hollowed his cheeks a little. He felt the soft pads of Jaemin's fingertips at his Adam's Apple; he stroked over the bump, from the bottom of his chin to the hollow of his throat, with two fingers. Gentle and deliberate. Jeno drew his head up a little, then back down, again and again. Jaemin kept his fingers on his neck, though they slipped to the side with all the movement. They ended up beneath the sharp, square corner of his jaw. It was like Jaemin was taking his pulse. There was something nice about it.

Eventually, though, Jaemin pulled him away, back to his lips. He wiped the string of spit that had snapped and stuck to Jeno's chin away with his thumb as he pushed his tongue into his mouth, running over his teeth. Jeno clung to him, digging his fingers into Jaemin's biceps like he was trying to leave his fingerprints there in his skin, until it probably hurt. Jaemin didn't say anything about it though, didn't even flinch, just kept kissing him like he was trying to map the entirety of the inside of his mouth. It almost felt like Jaemin was trying to split him open starting with the hinge of his jaw and dig down into his lungs and his stomach. Except that was weird and fucking creepy, and Jeno knew he only wanted to believe it because he didn't want to be alone in the way that he loved.

They broke apart and Jeno found himself gasping. Jaemin ran light, soothing touches up and down his back, watching him catch his breath. Jeno didn't know how to unlock his fingers from Jaemin's arms at first, but he managed to pry himself away.

"C'mon," Jaemin said, lying flat on his back and spreading his legs, nudging at Jeno with his knee. "Get the lube."

"What's the rush?" Jeno asked, though he was already crawling away to do as he was told. "We have all day."

"The sun's already setting," Jaemin pointed out.

"We have all night," Jeno amended, returning to him with lube in hand.

Jaemin just hummed, distracted, settling back against the crumpled blankets, and quirked an eyebrow at him. Jeno felt a smile tugging on his lips as he crawled between his legs, offering Jaemin a quick kiss. He popped the cap of the lube open and squeezed a drop out onto his forefinger, spreading it with his thumb. He reached down between their bodies and pressed the tip of his finger up against Jaemin's entrance. Jaemin sighed into his mouth, and Jeno pushed in.

It was easy now; Jeno had years of practice. He knew how to get Jaemin to relax, where to touch him to distract him until the pain was gone and he was drowning in good feelings only. Jaemin smiled against his kisses, moaning softly, fingers scrabbling gently along Jeno's arms and back, blowing out hot breaths of pleasure. Jeno could feel precome beading at the tip of his own cock, but he hardly noticed. It was about Jaemin, always about Jaemin, until Jaemin purposefully and actively made it about Jeno instead. He added a second finger, then a third, and then started pumping his hand in and out of Jaemin. His forearm burned, but he kept going anyway, until Jaemin was shaking and pushing him away.

"Just finish prepping me so I can have your cock instead," Jaemin hissed, and Jeno smiled to himself, slowing to a stop so that he could squeeze his pinky in beside his other three fingers.

It wasn't much of a squeeze, really—as much as he'd been fingering Jaemin like that just to make him feel good, it did help to open him up a little too, so it wasn't long before Jeno was thrusting four fingers in and out with ease. He wasn't paying much attention to what Jaemin was doing until he felt one of his hands wrap around his cock, slick with lube warmed between his palms. With his other hand, Jaemin wrapped his fingers around Jeno's wrist and guided him away.

"Ready?" Jeno asked.

"Mm." Jaemin pulled him closer, lining Jeno's cock up with his entrance. Jeno planted a hand in the blankets next to Jaemin's ear and pushed in, blowing out a soft breath. "Feels good?" Jaemin asked quietly.

"Mm-hm," Jeno replied, nodding.

Jaemin just smiled, running his hands down Jeno's biceps, his chest, his stomach and then back up again, pulling Jeno closer so that he could hold his face in his hands. He curled one fist against Jeno's scalp, making soft little hums of pleasure with each of Jeno's thrusts in. "Faster, c'mon." He tightened the grip of both of his hands, pulling at Jeno's hair with his right hand, pads of his left fingertips pressing deep into the fleshy muscle and tendon of Jeno's neck, right next to his brain stem.

Jeno went faster, blinking down at the boy he loved, trying to figure out based on sensation alone where exactly Jaemin's ring finger was, even though it was all one big feeling of pressure, his fingers stacked neatly together against Jeno's skin. The Romans believed that the fourth finger on the left hand had a vein that led directly to the heart and even though Jeno knew that every finger had a vein connected to the heart, he was obsessed with the idea of a vein of love.

"Not that fast," Jaemin soothed, and Jeno realized he'd gotten away from himself again. "It's for you, too."

Jeno knew. But anything that was good for Jaemin was good for him, so sometimes he forgot that Jaemin was the same way. He took a deep breath, slowing his thrusts. Jaemin smiled, tapping out the rhythm on the back of Jeno's neck until he matched it.

"Like that?" he whispered.

"Like that," Jaemin said, nodding.

Jeno's limbs, his head, his heart, all felt heavy with desire, heavy with his love for Jaemin, his want for him, all the ways he wanted him. Jaemin pressed and pressed on the back of his neck until he had no choice but to lean in and let Jaemin kiss him. Jeno opened his mouth, moaning soft, going pliant in Jaemin's hands. He'd let Jaemin take the air out of his lungs, he thought. He'd let Jaemin take it all, if he asked him, sweet and dark and divine; holy like sacrifice, sacrifice like surrender.

Jeno tilted forward, elbows buckling, sweaty forehead landing solidly on Jaemin's shoulder. Jaemin just hummed, running his hands through Jeno's hair, holding him there. Jeno twisted a little so he could flick his tongue out to taste Jaemin's skin.

The voice in his head that screamed for more, more was back; it's not that he wanted to actually tear Jaemin's chest open, because that would kill him, but he couldn't stop himself from biting, probably a little too hard. Jaemin gave a soft cry, but he kept brushing through Jeno's hair, holding him against his body.

"It's okay," he said, when Jeno made an inquisitive noise. "It's good," he added, and the thick, raw pleasure in his voice made something swell in Jeno—something searing and consuming and blind with pride, but Jeno didn't care. He breathed in hard through his nose, and sunk his teeth into Jaemin's skin again. The noises that came out of Jaemin made him dizzy.

They stayed latched to each other like this for a while, Jaemin murmuring encouragement into Jeno's ear while he rocked into him and alternated lips, teeth, lips, teeth. The glow of the sun had faded from behind the curtains, and with its loss the room seemed smaller somehow, the only light sources now the hint of the night-light in the bathroom from where the door had been left ajar, and the crack between Jaemin's bedroom door and the floor, the bright gleam of the fluorescents in the hall sneaking through.

After a while, Jaemin pushed him off, all the way onto his back, and crawled on top before Jeno even had a chance to react, grinning when Jeno just shivered. He planted his feet on either side of Jeno's ribs, hands folding over them, fingers slotting between the bones, as he sank back down onto Jeno's cock. Jeno whined, a noise that was half pushed out just because of the pressure on his chest. Jaemin's grin grew wide, predatory, somewhere between a smile and just baring his teeth.

"Yeah?" he breathed out. "Good?"

"Yeah," Jeno agreed around his clumsy tongue.

"Wanna come?"

"Mm-hm." Jeno nodded, drawing in a shuddering breath. "Want you to crush me."

Jaemin's grip on his ribs grew bruising, punishing, and Jeno closed his eyes, rolling his hips up to meet Jaemin's movements. They were both so close now. Jeno could tell by the change in Jaemin's breath, by the way his legs shook and shook, even though normally he could hold this position and ride Jeno for ages if he wasn't so desperate to come. The sheets were twisted and hot; Jaemin was panting above him and Jeno could feel beads of sweat on his forehead, but he didn't move to wipe them away. He curled his hands around Jaemin's ankles instead to keep him anchored, admiring the sharp bone, the taut stretch of his Achilles tendon, pinching a little just to hear Jaemin gasp.

Jeno's belly was growing tight; one of Jaemin's hands had disappeared from his ribcage in favor of jerking off, which Jeno couldn't fault him for. "Close, baby?" he stuttered out, low and hoarse. Jaemin just made a soft noise of agreement in the back of his throat, bounces growing more erratic, and then he was spilling hot, sticky white across Jeno's stomach, clenching around him until Jeno was coming, too.

They stayed there, Jeno splayed on his back, Jaemin slumped in his lap, panting, for a few minutes until Jaemin finally worked up the energy to move. He pulled up off of Jeno, pressing a finger against his entrance to make sure he didn't spill, and hobbled off to the bathroom. Jeno stayed right where he was, staring up at the ceiling, a lazy grin spreading across his face. It wasn't what he meant when he said he wanted to be inside of Jaemin—but sometimes he was pretty sure it was close enough.

Jaemin came back with a wet washcloth; he wiped Jeno down while Jeno played with his hair, watching him fondly. Jaemin's hair was sweaty like his, but a shower could wait until morning. Once Jaemin deemed him sufficiently clean, he tossed the cloth in the general direction of his hamper and collapsed into bed beside him. Jeno rolled onto his side to face him, nosing at his sternum. Jaemin rested his chin on top of his head, shuffling one of his arms in the tiny pocket of space left between Jeno's neck and the mattress. He folded his other arm between them, taking one of Jeno's hands. Jeno sighed softly, pressing his shins to Jaemin's, trying to listen for the beat of his heart.

They lay like that for a few minutes, silent. Renjun was shouting something, faint, down the hall. Outside, a siren blared past, the noise distant. Jeno could feel the night gathering, and it lulled him into a warm sort of tired.

“I love you,” Jaemin said, piercing the stillness. Jeno could feel the rumble of his throat in the top of his skull. He was so close to sleeping; he tried to open his mouth, but he could barely breathe for his exhaustion, let alone speak.

Jaemin wasn’t having it, of course. Jeno understood. “Say it back,” he muttered, sounding confused and a little hurt. He jostled both of them, like he was trying to shake the response out of Jeno.

“I love you, too,” Jeno managed, muffled and thick. “Of course I love you.”

“I know,” Jaemin said, settling back down. Jeno understood. They knew. But they always had to check.

“Ever since we met,” Jeno added, fighting his drowsiness. “I’ve never not loved you.”

He could see Jaemin’s smile in his mind from the shape his voice took—wide and righteous; proud, heady, and a little jealous. Like he didn’t even want the air in his room, or his sheets, his walls, his shoes to have any piece of that love, to even witness it. It fed Jeno’s devout obsession, his consuming piety, his bloodied faith. “Me too,” Jaemin replied. “Me too.”

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sillysnack · 3 years ago

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hello there, i was hoping to request an encanto matchup? preferably romantic.

i'm fifteen, genderfluid and im unlabeled sexualitywise (though i may be either omnisexual, bisexual or pansexual). i go by kris and val online but use kris and [REDACTED] irl

good things about me: i will listen to anyone's problems and offer advice if i can, i have a pretty good humour (im allowed to toot my own horn), i don't take anyone's shit and will throw hands if needed be and i give good hugs.

neutral: im quiet most of the time which is a good and bad thing, im really superstitious, i can be a bit dramatic, and i mumble and ramble under my breath a lot when nervous.

bad things about me: a hell of a lot of self doubt about everything i do, i can get so nervous to the point i throw up 💀, i have scoliosis and when my back gets too sore i have to use a wheelchair, extremely clumsy, i have sensory issues and im a ball of anxiety.

likes: reading, painting, dancing, singing, baking, skateboarding, gardening (i know the language of flowers), thriller movies, horror novels, theatre (especially lin manuel miranda, mans is incredible!!), swimming, photography and poetry.

dislikes: confrontation, discrimination, being made fun of, when being told what to do, failure, not knowing who i am and the way i look.

physical:

im really pale and im rather short (5'3 - 5'4). im covered in freckles (i like to think of them as stars and connect them like they're constellations) and have a birthmark across my neck and chest that looks like coffee stains (i get teased about it a lot so i wear a lot of turtlenecks and scarves). im pretty chubby, but im losing weight !! i have short hair (just above my earlobe and an undercut) which has been bleached to a light orange with red streaks. im thinking of growing my hair out and dying it back to my natural color (brown, almost black). i have narrow, dark brown eyes too. due to my scoliosis, im hunched over a lot, making me look shorter then i am.

fun facts:

- i have a spa day once a week to try and keep my skin smooth and just treat myself(don't tell my friends, i'd never hear the end of it. im normally the teasing friend, so they'd have a field day)

- im very interested in true crime. name any serial killer and i'd most likely be able to name all their killings 💀

- i babysit younger family members, dad's friend's kids and friend's siblings from time to time

- i used to volunteer at my local zoo!! the red pandas and reptiles were my favorites to look after.

- i either want to pursue psychology, become a florist, continue to work with animals or pursue dance!! (the last two would be difficult due to my scoliosis)

- i have a massive collection of crystals. my room is very shiny. my favorites are a peach aventurine in the shape of a mushroom and a bloodstone in the shape of a skull

sorry if that was too much. don't forget to drink plenty of water and take your time !! <3

notes: HI HI !! not sure if i did this right since this is the first matchup im doing T__T hope you like this !!

but i'd match you with MIRABEL!

while reading your ask, i was thinking "OHH you and camilo have sm in common" but then its like... oh you two have bestfriend potential and maybe mirabel would be a better match for you romantically :]

Mirabel asks Camilo about you one time (okay maybe it was, like, three times) and suddenly he pretends to be you. Mirabel slips up and calls you cute or smth and Camilo gets this brilliant idea to set you two up. so now you're also victim to camilo's shenanigans <3

"Camilo. If this is one of your stupid pranks again, I swear to God I am going to kill you."

"With what? Those crystals?"

Mirabel holds your hand gently and whispers, "We could go to the spa later to calm your nerves." You squeeze her hand and thank her.

i think u and mirabel would just be cute together, yknow. you two are there for each other all the time, mirabel knows how to calm you down esp. when you're too nervous to the point of nausea.

mirabel also loves exploring new interests. when she found out you used to volunteer at the local zoo, she knew you had to meet antonio. you quickly got along with mirabel's favorite primo (don't tell camilo, or do tell! mirabel enjoys teasing camilo with you!) and it's her favorite thing in the world to see her s/o get along so well with her little cousin.

mirabel loves listening to you talk about your interests. you slept over at casita once and the two of you spent the whole night talking about true crime, then your collection of crystals, all your interests. dolores overheard a few of your conversations & thinks you two are a cute couple :)

mirabel also likes dancing with you, she makes sure the two of you don't overdo it though so nothing bad happens to your back !

she has an outfit that matches the color(s) of your hair and its so... so beautiful. the top is white but has your favorite crystals (the peach mushroom aventurine + skull bloodstone) embroidered on it. plus something that's related to true crime (a knife ? perhaps !)

her skirt is light orange with embroidered red pandas around it. mirabel gave her all into making this outfit. she wants to show to the world how much she loves you !!!!!

regarding PDA, most that mirabel does is hold hands with you + an occasional kiss on the cheek or on your freckles if she's feeling extra happy. only if you let her, of course.

^^^ ADDING ON TO THIS !!!! mirabel LOVES doing dramatic scenes with you in public 😭😭 especially in the middle of town. you two could enact a whole romance story and the townspeople would know, "Yeah. this happens all the time." its her way of encouraging u to showcase your talents with other people !! of course, if you didn't want to put on a show in public, she'd be okay with it! you two can have your own little show at home :)

mirabel is very willing to give you reassurance 24/7 and would do anythingg to make you feel loved. she isn't really one to fight people but if someone talked shit about you, Bring It On.

i think i could add more but i'm really sleepy HAHAHA i really hope u liked this !!!!!!!! matchups r kind of fun. might do more of these

#encanto matchups #mirabel madrigal

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wreckofawriter · 5 years ago

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The Need For You

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Sirius' Daughter!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none, swears?

Request (from my wattpad): Can you do something with Sirius Blacks daughter and Draco? Shes a Gryffindor also thank you sm I love ur work!!

A/n: Before you destroy me in the comments, ik that Sirius got killed by Bellatrix not Lucius but idc. It's for plot. Anyway hope you enjoy! Request are open!

You had tried being nice, you really had. The first years when you were plunged into the wizarding world you had smiled and nodded taking abuse and ridicule from most of those at your school. It wasnt always direct, sometimes it was just the hatred and the whispers that you could feel from across the hall, you were disrespected, treated like you were less of a human than the rest. So you stopped being nice, in the third year instead of smiling you snarled, you stopped nodding when people told you you weren’t worth anything. You were done being spit on because of your last name.

Third-year was not a good one for you. Your last name was in all the papers, headlining the daily prophet. It was whispered in halls and spoken quietly between teachers. Sirius Black had escaped and now everyone was scared he was going to find you. People stopped talking to you. One of the girls locked you out of your dormitory, fearful your father would come looking for you. That was how you officially met Draco Malfoy.

You wandered the halls, not sure where you were even going. As you rounded a corner you locked eyes with the blonde boy who had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his robes. You figured he wouldn’t say anything as you passed but you were wrong.

“Why are you out of bed?” Draco sneered narrowing his eyes.

“None of your business Malfoy.” You spat back shouldering past him and to your surprise he chuckled.

“It’s nice that you dropped the act you know.” You could feel his eyes on you as you paused.

You spun around, “What act?”

“The one you put on last year. It was a bit annoying, the whole nice girl thing.” He shrugged, “It’s good to see your true colors finally shining through.”

“Go fuck yourself.” you scoffed walking back down the hall.

He only smirked and watched you leave.

Draco was interesting. He was a dick, you knew that his dad was a rich asshole and he wasn’t any different. But much to your surprise he or anyone else from his possie for that matter ever messed with you. At first, you thought they feared your father, or even you but you began to suspect something else. Draco, Goyle, Crabbe, Parkinson, they had nothing to pick on you for. Their parents were killers too, it would be like a pot calling a kettle black. If you weren’t wearing red robes you may have even been friends with them, maybe. But something told you you could never look at Pansy without wanting to knock her teeth in.

Draco nodded to you in halls, occasionally smiled at you in classes and when moved next to you for being too loud in Transfiguration he was relatively pleasant, despite a few unpleasant comment here and there. He still irked you, he was whiny and weak, he hadn’t had to work a day in his life and you figured he never would, but the truth was he was your first actual friend.

Everything changed when suddenly Harry Potter, someone you had been desperately trying to avoid, pulled you aside and tell you what you thought was an elaborate prank. He then brought you to your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had told you it was all true.

You were stunned, your father wasn’t a killer, he hadn’t betrayed his friends he hadn’t murdered anyone. He would be free, you would be free too. Free from glares and ridicule. All of that came crashing down when they explained that Peter Pettigrew, your only proof had gotten away.

You had been angry for a while. Everything you had been told your entire life, by your peers, your teachers, your mother, it was all a lie. And now only you and four others knew that. It was almost like some sort of cruel trick. You got over it by the next year. You realized that while everyone still thought you were a killer’s daughter, you knew you weren’t and that was enough.

The Golden Trio befriended you. At first, it seemed forced, like they were acting, mocking friendship. But the awkwardness melted away and you found yourself with friends, ones you could laugh and talk with. It was nice, really nice. You were finally happy.

On your fourteenth birthday you got a card from an owl you didn’t recognize. When you read the small note you almost cried. It was from your father. He told you he was sorry. He was sorry he wasn’t there for you, that he couldn’t properly meet you. He said he loved you and always would.

Draco hated it. He hated when out of nowhere you were suddenly best friends with Harry Potter. It was sickening. Why did Harry Potter get everything he wanted? None of it was fair, you were supposed to be his. He was livid, he had made progress with you, you looked at him in the halls you had snorted at some of his jokes and now you were practically attached to his arch-enemy. So Draco did the natural thing. He hated you. He pushed you down and called you names. He belittled you and your father, he called you weak, stupid, pathetic. You snapped back. You always did, you weren’t like the others.

You spat nasty nicknames back at him, you pulled him down with you. And that was the most interaction with you Draco ever got. He spent his fourth year in a swarm of jealousy and anger only making things a thousand times worse for himself.

You didn’t think of Draco much, you missed his snarky comments and the banter you had with him but not a lot. His sudden torment of you made it easy to forget that he had once been nice. You got used to hating him, he made it so easy.

When you finally met your father it was strange, like someone had pointed at a stranger and told you that that person loves you more than anything else in the world and you were supposed to love them the same. You knew he was still your dad it was just all so weird. It seemed like he knew Harry far better than he knew you. It didn’t take you long to actually begin to care for the man. He was easy to talk to, despite the awkwardness of the entire situation there was never an uncomfortable silence. You were calling him Sirius for a while, maybe it was because you just didn’t want to call him dad or maybe it was because you were afraid too. Either way just as you were leaving to go back to school you called him it by mistake, he had engulfed you in a hug, and that was the first time in a long time you had cried.

Draco seemed off the entire year. He didn’t put nearly as much time into bullying as he usually did. He bounced around a lot, looking almost paranoid as if he knew something was coming that you didn’t. He joined Umbridges group of assholes and broke Harry’s nose but he didn’t even look at you, you were invisible to him.

But you weren’t invisible. Draco wasn’t sure what it was but when he lay his eyes on you in fifth year he had been completely enamored. He had liked you before, as much as he tried to deny that he had. But now it was like someone had turned a knob and he couldn’t even look at you without feeling an intolerable need. A need for you. So he did what he could, he ignored you completely, he would force his eyes away from you at meals, he threw himself into classes forgetting about the outside world. He didn’t speak to you until a few days before he was supposed to go home.

You couldn’t breathe. You felt like you were getting punched in the gut over and over again. You had just gotten him back. After 14 years you had finally hugged him and loved him. And now he was dead.

You were going to kill him, part of you really wanted to, it was what he deserved, what he would get. You found him late at night, your eyes were hot with tears as you approached him, your wand clutched so tightly in your had your knuckles were beginning to go white.

“Malfoy!” You shouted, there was no one around to hear.

He turned and to your surprise his own grey eyes were glassy, his face was streaked with tears, their trials shining silver in the delicate moonlight. He looked so incredibly broken at that moment your wand dropped back to your side.

“I heard about your dad.” He croaked, “My dad did it right?”

You stood silent tears dripping off your chin, your eyes narrowed, mouth curled in hurt.

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry.” He spoke taking a few steps towards you.

You raised your wand back up, it sat inches from his neck. You shook with sobs, your throat was closing up around nothing, your blood rushed in your ears.

Draco didn’t flinch, he just stared down at you, you looked so pretty with tears in your eyes, they glinted like stars. Your cheeks were flushed a fragile shade of pink, they almost matched your lips.

“I hate you.” You whispered and for a second you thought you were going to do it. But then the second passed and you dropped your arm back to your side spinning on your heel and walking back to your common room.

Draco watched you leave, his own tears thick and sticky on his cheeks, those three words hurt more than any spell you could have cast.

You went back to scowling the following year. You were short with people, you glared more often than you laughed. Draco knew you were watching him, he knew you didn’t trust him, you knew he was up to something.

But the way you looked at him was off. It wasn’t the way Harry, Ron and Hermione did, it wasn’t full of the hatred you claimed to have. It was observant, keen, and almost soft. It was strange that Draco couldn’t quite place it.

“I don’t hate you.” You said suddenly to him one day on your way down to the greenhouse. It was hot out, the sound of birds and laughter around you. “I hate your father, but I don’t hate you.”

Draco just stared at you, your hair was glowing in the sunlight, your lips glistened with lip balm, you peered up at him expecting him to say something.

“I just thought you should know.” You finished before continuing down the slope. Draco stood frozen for a moment.

“Wait!”

You stopped turning back to the boy as he took quickened steps towards you. “What?” you asked when he reached you.

“I’m sorry y/n, about everything.” He said, “I really am.”

You paused biting your bottom lip, “I know.” you smiled softly.

You nodded to Draco in the hallways again. You sat next to each other in Herbology and you talked quietly in the dead of night. Draco felt his affection towards you grow with each smile and look his way. You knew what was pierced into his skin but you never mentioned it, instead, you talked about meaningless things like quidditch games ad muggle music. Draco became your escape from the real world. He reminded you of when things were easy if they ever were.

It was late May. The crickets and frogs at the edge of the black lake were loud in your ears. You and Draco lay side by side in the dewy grass, your robes dampening as you stared up at the stars. It had been your idea, star gazing, you did it for the astronomy tower often but it was different out on the grass, it was better.

You felt Dracos hand twitch beside yours, his thumb brushing the top of your palm. Without thinking much you reached out and grabbed it, eyes still glued on the sky.

Draco felt his face heat at the feeling of your hand in his own, your skin was soft, it felt good to have your fingers intertwined with his own. He turned his head to look at you. The stars reflected in your eyes, your hair splayed around you as moonlight carved your face with delicate slopes and ridges. You were so incredibly gorgeous.

You felt his stare turning to meet his eyes. You stayed still for a second a soft wind rippling the grass around you. Your heartbeat droned in your ears, its beat slowly increasing as you stared into deep pools of icy grey.

Draco broke the silence his grip on your hand tightening, “I’m in love with you y/n.”

You didn’t move, you didn’t even look surprised, your eyes continued to flick around his face as if you were looking for something. You moved closer to him, your heartbeat so loud the sound of crickets drowned out behind it. You were inches form him when you finally spoke, your eyes trained on his, staring deep into his thoughts. “I know.” your voice was a whisper, breath fanning over his face.

Draco leaned forward, waiting for you to stop him but you didn’t. Your eyes slipped closed and you met slowly. Your lips were smooth and soft against Draco’s slightly chapped ones, your hands found their way to his hair as his wrapped around your neck pulling you close to him. The kiss was sweet and slow, he tasted minty and warm. Your tongue swiped his bottom lip and they parted allowing you to deepen the kiss as he tugged lightly on your hair.

You broke apart slowly, breath mingling as you stared into his eyes, “I need you Draco.” you mumbled pulling yourself into his embrace.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #sirius black #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader

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theeverlastingshade · 4 years ago

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Favorite Albums of the 10s

25. Shaking the Habitual- The Knife

The Knife made a name for themselves with their third and most celebrated LP, Silent Shout, but it’s their fourth LP, StH, that pushed their idiosyncratic blend of electroacoustic synth-pop to the furthest, most far-flung places that they’ve gone yet. The record deals with a diverse range of topics from the surveillance state, to fracking, pollution, gender discrimination, and unchecked greed with colorful, ketamine-fused candy cotton synth work and ritualistic percussion. There are long passages of ambience like the menacing build of “A Cherry on Top” dispersed between roaring apocalyptic dance numbers like the astonishing industrial eruption “Full of Fire” and the electro-acoustic freak out “Without You My Life Would Be Boring”. With the exception of the mid-album ambient epic “Old Dreams Waiting to Be Realized” every song on StH justifies its length with consistently engrossing arrangements that sustain their momentum without compromising an ounce of their potency. Everything about the record lives up to its title, from its thematic ambitions, to the breadth of the sonics, pacing, and performances themselves. StH if the full manifestation of the darkness that was lurking beneath the surface of their music from as early as their breakout single “Heartbeats”, but thankfully the music never collapses under the weight of their thematic concerns. Their resilience remains inspiring all these years later, and if Karin and Olof never reunite for a fifth LP we couldn’t have asked for a better send off.

Essentials: “Full of Fire”, “A Tooth for an Eye”, “A Cherry on Top”

24. XXX- Danny Brown

Hip-hop grew to remarkable heights throughout the 10s, and yet there were few rappers that displayed the level of growth and consistency from record to record throughout this past decade quite like Danny Brown. The Detroit native spent the aughts hustling the mixtape circuit, finally catching a spark with 2010’s The Hybrid, his strong debut LP. But a year later Brown returned with his sophomore LP and magnum opus XXX, a twisted rap odyssey that ignited the blogs, and signaled that a new era of hip hop was beginning to emerge. XXX found Brown rapping over an assortment of wonky boom-bap instrumentals courtesy of Bruiser Brigade producer Skywalker that fused classic hip-hop, trap, baroque pop, and techno into shapes far more disorienting than the beats that the vast majority of his contemporaries were rapping over. While it was evident beforehand, XXX really cemented the notion that Brown could rap over anything. The beats here are generally extremely impressive, and there are plenty of singular stylistic touches like the slurring violin stabs of “Lie 4”, the menacing synth lurch of “Monopoly”, or the distorted brass loops of closer “30”, that really stand out, but the appeal is first and foremost Brown’s rapping. His voice alone is one of the most versatile and unpredictable instruments in hip-hop, but aside from his masterful vocal alteration, always perfectly synched to the tone of any given moment on any given song of his, he’s a naturally gifted writer, as thoughtful as he is straight up hilarious. Whether bragging about his destructive lifestyle (“Die Like a Rockstar”), describing how much he loves cunnilingus “I Will”, mourning the desolation around him “Party All the Time”, or reveling in his come-up “30”, Brown is a thoroughly engaging presence throughout the entire album. On XXX profanity and profundity march gleefully hand in hand with one another, casting Brown as one of the last decade’s most singular voices.

Essentials: “Die Like a Rockstar”, “Monopoly”, “30”

23. House of Sugar- Alex G

On Alex G’s latest LP, House of Sugar, his concoction of warm guitar pop and warped electronic production reached a new peak. The songs on HoS detail the misdeeds of various characters succumbing to their greed, and the vignettes that he paints are growing increasingly well-realized thanks to a continuously sharpening songwriting voice and a plethora of tasteful pitch-shifted vocals that help imbue his characters with color and personality. HoS opener “Walk Away” provides a reasonably sonic barometer for what’s to come before dropping us into a series of the most immediate pop songs that he’s ever penned. “Hope” and “Southern Sky” are nimble acoustic guitar pop songs that are almost disarming in their immediacy, and framed around references to the real life death of a friend of his due to opioids and a dream he had, respectively. By the time we reach acoustic guitar and sitar-drone of “Taking” the pitch-shifted vocals are at the forefront of the music and HoS shifts gears into its abstract middle section which owes a lot to the new-age beat deconstruction of avant-garde electronic producers, specifically Oneohtrix Point Never. On the instrumental “Sugar”, a sublime concoction of pitch-warped whispers, dissonant strings arpeggios, and creeping acoustic guitar plucks, HoS reaches the depths of its depravity. The next song, “In My Arms”, leads us to the suite of sublime acoustic reveries that close HoS, arguably peaking with the gorgeous acoustic love ballad “Cow”. The dramatic sonic left-turn that HoS takes midway through may leave some new listeners a little cold, but for most Alex G fans nothing about the eclecticism of HoS should come as a surprise. Nor should the overwhelming quality of the songs here. From Alex G’s debut, Race, in 2010 up through HoS, he released a remarkable catalog of some of the most eclectic, and vital indie rock of the century, and I have no reason to believe he won’t top HoS at some point.

Essentials: “Gretel”, “Sugar”, “Walk Away”

22. Sea When Absent- A Sunny Day in Glasgow

A Sunny Day in Glasgow may be one of the 21st century’s most underrated bands, but not even Pitchfork could resist the coveted BNM tag when it came time to review their fourth and strongest LP, Sea When Absent. Building off of their first three idiosyncratic LPs that superbly fused electronic pop with shoegaze and dream pop, A Sunny Day in Glasgow moved into decidedly more psychedelic territory with their fourth LP while still retaining the sharp melodic sensibility of those first three. Much of the shift is easy to credit to vocalist Jen Goma who joined the group on their third LP, Autumn Again, and here her soaring vocals deliver rich melodies that are more fleshed out and focused than anything on their past releases. SWA sidesteps the kaleidoscopic sprawl of their 22 song sophomore LP, Ashes Grammar, and instead delivers 11 tight, stargazing pop songs. Whereas on the prior records it more often than not felt like the band were throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck (with primarily successful results) on SWA the band commit more thoroughly to their ideas, writing songs that are well within their wheelhouse but have never been so well-realized. “Byebye, Big Ocean (The End)” and “Boys Turn Into Girls (Initiation Rites)” erupt with a wall of dazzling distorted guitars that slowly build into engrossing melodic payoffs while “Never Nothing (It’s Alright (It’s Ok))” and “The Body, It Bends” are sublime, soft spoken breathers that put a premium on texture and melody, and are among A Sunny Day in Glasgow’s most impressive songs yet. Even seemingly inconsequential moments like the “Double Dutch” interlude positively radiant with melodic warmth and joyous energy. Their strain of sun-kissed, jubilant dream pop tonally stands in stark contrast to much of the pop that’s dominated the airwaves this past decade, but their temperament doesn’t sound naïve so much as defiant. They have yet to follow up SWA with another LP, and I can’t blame them if they feel like they’ve said everything that they have to say with SWA.

Essentials: “The Body, It Bends”, “Never Nothing (It’s Alright (It’s Ok))”, “Boys Turn Into Girls (Initiation Rites)”

21. Strange Mercy- St. Vincent

Annie Clark has spent the past decade releasing music under her St. Vincent moniker, collaborating with the likes of David Byrne, producing for Sleater-Kinney, and appearing on the sketch comedy Portlandia. Although she began her solo career in earnest with her strong 2008 debut, Marry Me, in 2011 Clark released Strange Mercy, her third, and strongest record to date. Produced by John Congleton, SM is a compelling fusion of art rock/and chamber pop that often lands with a jarring, visceral impact, but is still imbued with a sense of grace that heightens the sentiments of her bewitching songwriting. Her first two records showcased her singular voice and tastefully, ornate baroque arrangements, but on SM Clark begins to let loose and lean into her virtuosic guitar playing. Songs like “Cruel” and “Northern Light” are propelled by her nimble riffs caked in distortion while strings rise and fall in a satisfying sweep all around her triumphant vocals. “Surgeon” brings the pace down to a crawl and gets a tone of mileage out of sensuous synth arrangements as Clark sings softly of depression and carnal desire “Stay in just to get along/Turn off the TV, wade in bed/A blue and a red/A little something to get along” before the song erupts into a furious storm of guitar distortion. The balance between fury and serenity animate the record from start to finish, and Clark seamlessly toggles these impulses from start to finish. On the title track, over a lumbering tom/kick drum rhythm, the incessant ping of a synth, and bluesy guitar licks Clark brilliantly sums up the record’s theme with a scene of police brutality “If I ever meet that dirty policeman that roughed you up/No, I, I don’t know what” that depicts the contraction inherent in the way justice is carried out by police in the west, and the way those contradictions bleed through to our understanding of morality on the whole. SM is a record full of these sorts of messy contradictions, and the music constantly reflected that perpetual sense of disarray with songs as colorful and chaotic as they were controlled.

Essentials: “Northern Lights”, “Surgeon”, “Strange Mercy”

20. A Moon Shaped Pool- Radiohead

Radiohead’s eighth LP, 2011’s solid but unremarkable King of Limbs seemed to cement the notion that while Radiohead may not have another game changer left in them, they were probably weren’t ever going to make a bad record. And with all of their various solo pursuits it seemed plausible that we may never get another Radiohead record, as underwhelming as capping off a career as thrilling as theirs with KoL would have been. Thankfully things didn’t pan out that way, and in 2016 Radiohead released their ninth LP, A Moon Shaped Pool; the platonic ideal of a master stroke from a legacy act. The album is partially composed of older songs re-worked into new forms, such as the tense string onslaught of opener “Burn the Witch” while a few of the newer songs like the gorgeous, ambient “Daydreaming” are string-laden compositions that are as eerie as they are radiant. For a band that’s been prophesizing the increasingly dismal state of the world that we now find ourselves in for the past several decades, they sound increasingly comfortable with their position in the world, and there’s no question that they’re in full command of their craft here. The production is sublime throughout the entire record, with a sense of encroaching doom bubbling just beneath the surface juxtaposed against rich baroque instrumentation. AMSP is the Radiohead album most informed by Johnny Greenwood’s work scoring films like There Will Be Blood and Phantom Thread, and as a result there’s a remarkable sense of immersion at work even for a Radiohead album.

So while there are some recognizable forms from records past, such as the brass-lead krautrock strut of “Ful Stop”, or the twitchy IDM drum work of “Identikit”, the spectral production heightens the potency of everything here. The compositions on AMSP are the most elegant, and nuanced of Radiohead’s to date, and Yorke’s voice continues to age superbly. Yorke’s lyrics touch on familiar topics, more relevant now than ever, such as climate change on “The Numbers” “The numbers don’t decide/The system is a lie/A river running dry/The wings of butterflies” the dangers of unchecked authority on “Burn the Witch” “Abandon all reason/Avoid all contact/Do not react/Shoot the messengers/This is a low-flying panic attack” and the broader, horrific realities of the world that we live in on “Ful Stop” “Why should I be good if you’re not?/This is a foul tasting medicine/A foul tasting medicine/To be trapped in your ful-stop”. What’s more unexpected are songs like the graceful string-led “Glass Eyes” and the devastating ambient closer “True Love Waits”, two songs that are poignant tributes to Yorke’s ex-wife, Rachel Owen, who passed away from cancer in late 2016. AMSP isn’t just a spectacular late-career gem that would make a superb swan song; it’s also the most human record that Radiohead have made yet.

Essentials: “True Love Waits”, “Daydreaming”, “Ful Stop”

19. Eye Contact- Gang Gang Dance

Few bands set the tone for the kind of cross-culture hybridization that would become the sonic norm for music throughout this decade quite like Gang Gang Dance. Throughout the early aughts they cut their teeth in the Brooklyn noise scene alongside bands like Animal Collective, Black Dice, and Exceptor blending noise, experimental rock, and worldbeat into blistering, unconventional shapes. As the years progressed Gang Gang Dance gradually began to open up their sound, folding elements of hip-hop, dance music, and psychedelic pop into a colorful concoction of rhythmically robust, delightfully manic pop music that was just as forward-thinking as it was infectious. The shift really began on their criminally underrated 2005 LP, God’s Money, but began notably on their terrific 2008 LP, Saint Dymphna. On the follow-up to SD, their remarkable fifth LP, Eye Contact, the sound of Gang Gang Dance crystallized into something more immediate and far-ranging than anything that they had done prior (or since so far). On EC, everything that the band had attempted throughout the course of their career (tribal rhythms, eastern melodies, shards of refracted noise) was gloriously combined into a hyper-saturated tapestry of progressive future pop. EC is the peak of Gang Gang Dance’s prior decade of sonic exploration, and nearly a decade later there’s still nothing that sounds anything like it.

Beginning with the astonishing slow-burn intro of “Glass Jar” that finds the band patiently building up what begins as a pent up ambient composition toward something more volatile that eventually rips open midway through, spilling into a calamitous, euphoric release into the song’s second half, EC is bursting with joyous energy and possibility. The melodies are some of the sharpest, and most direct that vocalist Lizzi Bougatsos has ever penned, providing a warm immediacy that cuts through even the most outre arrangements here, and they continually expand into shapes as the songs continue to progress. “Adult Goth” and “MindKilla” are bolstered considerably by Lizzi’s dynamic vocal performances, and the off-kilter, spellbinding synth arrangements of the band’s keyboardist Brian DeGraw, while “Romance Layers” provides an ideal mid-album psychedelic breather.. And on the album’s closer, “Thru and Thru”, the band deliver a send-off that succinctly sums up a prior decade’s worth of experimentation into a nearly six-minute song overflowing with eastern melodies, mesmerizing chants, and infectious tribal rhythms that congeal into a sound that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anyone else. Although they’ve only graced us with the somewhat underwhelming 2018 record Kazuashita since, when Gang Gang Dance are firing on all cylinders, as they are on all of EC, there’s simply nothing like it.

Essentials: “Glass Jar”, “Adult Goth”, “Thru and Thru”

18. Shields- Grizzly Bear

Although the zeitgeist was already beginning to dramatically shift by the time that Grizzly Bear released their fourth LP, Shields, guaranteeing that it wouldn’t have the same immediate impact that they enjoyed with its predecessor, their 2009 breakout LP, Veckatimest, they still ended up releasing their magnum opus. Compared to Veckatimest’s approachable folk-pop leanings there are moments on Shields that sound downright prog, but the band never let these intricate baroque pop/psychedelic folk arrangements get away from themselves or compromise the remarkable melodic instincts that were undeniable on their terrific sophomore LP, Yellow House. The ten songs throughout Shields are perfectly paced, and there isn’t a single moment that overstays its welcome, but they each develop just as much as they need to. The band’s primary songwriters, Edward Droste and Daniel Rossen, were each peaking as singular songwriters in their own respective rights on Shields, and they both deliver a handful of the band’s strongest songs to date. Droste’s songs tend to creep in ethereal waltzes with delicate baroque instrumentation (“gun-shy”, “A Simple Answer”) unfolding patiently while sustaining a remarkable sense of tension while Rossen’s are jaunty folk rippers that unfurl in unpredictable, and thrilling cacophonies that still retain the grace that the ornate instrumentation demands (“Yet Again”, “Speak in Rounds”) but unfurl in far more complex structures than those on Veckatimest.

Grizzly Bear’s progression from Droste’s cozy lo-fi folk bedroom project to a knotty baroque folk juggernaut was one of the most quietly satisfying of any band from the past decade, and on Shields they hit a gorgeous peak. While Droste and Rossen had peaked as songwriters here, their contributions never overshadowed those of Chris Taylor or Chris Bear, and the chemistry on Shields is sharper than most bands ever come close to achieving. It’s easy to get lost admiring the sheer craft of their meticulous arrangements, crisp production, provoking but elusive songwriting, and the sharp interplay between Droste and Rossen each on their own individual merit, but on Shields everything that previously stood out about their artistry is amplified, and congealed in a way that’s approachable yet inimitable. On Shields Grizzly Bear umped the ante from Veckatimest on both fronts, and proved that they could grow more immediate and melodic while still dazzling with rich compositional complexity. Grizzly Bear followed it up with Painted Ruins in 2017, that while a perfectly good record in its own right is nowhere as cohesive, and most unfortunately, patient. And to be honest, I haven’t heard a baroque folk record released since Shields that’s as consistently engrossing, or one performed with such remarkable execution. Shields isn’t their most immediate, but it best distills their singular essence, and its generosity knows no bounds.

Essentials: “gun-shy”, “Yet Again”, “The Hunt”

17. The Money Store- Death Grips

Anyone from future generations looking to hear a band that’s most emblematic of the 10s as a full decade probably couldn’t do better than Death Grips. The trio consisting of vocalist MC Ride, keyboardist/producer Flatlander, and drummer Zach Hill released their abrasive Ex-military tape in 2011, and right out of the gates the trio had a fully-formed sound that plucked unapologetically from west coast hip-hop, industrial, hardcore, and noise. Although far from the first band to draw equally upon genres like these, Death Grips stood out immediately thanks in no small part to MC Ride, who has since proved to be one of the last decade’s most compelling frontmen. His lyrics are cryptic, and intelligent yet visceral, with a deceptively wry edge. Although there’s quite a bit of variety to his delivery, it’s always propelled forth with an overwhelming intensity that can take some time to become accustomed to. Ex-military was received rapturously by critics and bloggers, but as exciting as group like them may have seemed at the time it would have been hard to predict any kind of real longevity for them. And their unrelentingly antagonistic streak (leaking No Love Deep Web, putting a picture of Zach Hill’s dick on the cover of said album, skipping performances or just playing recorded music instead of performing, trolling fans, faking a breakup) would have decimated the momentum of almost any other band, but Death Grips feed on this sort of chaos like a troupe of anarchist vampires. Their arc from Ex-military to 2018’s Year of the Snitch is one of the most rewarding streaks of any act throughout the 10s, and while most of these records are great, there isn’t one that better distills their essence than their 2012 debut LP, The Money Store.

While Ex-military presented them as an admittedly idiosyncratic, yet undeniable product of their environment, TMS blew their sound wide open proving that they had range far beyond sounds of their native state. Right from the bass arpeggios that jolt opener “Get Got” to life, it’s clear the fidelity has improved considerably, but they haven’t compromised an ounce of their fury. This still scans as music custom-tailored for little other than violently thrashing your limbs, and little else from the past decade as been anywhere near as effective at distilling that aesthetic so neatly across the run of a single record. But on TMS Death Grips were still writing actual songs, with memorable hooks, sticky melodies, and conventional structures that served to heighten the potency of their tantrums. Songs like “I’ve Seen Footage” and “Hacker” are shocking for how immediate and unthreatening the band sound despite MC Ride’s sour bark, while songs like “The Fever (Aye Aye)” and “The Cage” showcase early peaks for Flatlander’s immaculate, and underrated synth work. MC Ride is at his best here, whether talking shit and espousing authenticity (“Hustle Bones”), calling out doubters (“Bitch Please”), or just railing against general conformity, he delivers 13 career defining performances in neat succession. Death Grips have continued to relentlessly experiment on all their subsequent records, and while some have come close to matching the excellence of TMS, they’ve all fallen short. Thankfully, the immense exhilaration and urgency of TMS sound more potent with each successive year that we inhibit this desolate hellscape.

Essentials: “I’ve Seen Footage”, “The Fever (Aye Aye)”, “Hacker”

16. Twin Fantasy (Face to Face)- Car Seat Headrest

It shouldn’t come as any surprise that a re-recording of a devastatingly personal LP that Will Toledo recorded at 19, with better production, stronger arrangements, and cleaner vocals, would end up being his best record to date. What was surprising was that he decided to return to the record of his that’s most important to him, and give it the sort of justice that it deserves after having developed into a far more adept talent in the years following its release. And although I’m sure some of those songs (if not all of them) were painful to revisit, the discipline and audacity paid off enormously. Twin Fantasy centers entirely around falling in love with another man at 19, and the arc of their relationship from mourning the distance between them on the opening song “My Boy (Twin Fantasy)” to the newfound acceptance of their relationship’s dissolution on closer “Twin Fantasy (Those Boys)”, detailing the highs and lows with unabashed sincerity. While the original still holds up fairly well, there’s no question that the re-arranging, cleaner vocals, and stronger fidelity overall just heightened the potency of what was already there without diminishing any aspect of the original record. Will’s cleverness, sense of humor, and dynamism as a bandleader elevate TF beyond a melancholic teen drama into a searing document of formative growth, demonstrating craft, ingenuity, and wisdom far beyond his years. More so than any other record released throughout the last decade, TF exemplifies just how potent indie rock still is.

This new version of TF is more of a “re-imagining” of the original record than anything else, and as such the thematic scope as it initially existed, along with the exact same track listing, is held perfectly intact. The record’s two epics, those being “Beach Life-In-Death” and “Famous Prophets (Stars)” are both even longer, and benefit more so than anything else here from their new arrangements. The fidelity has been cleaned up notably, but TF is still far from overproduced, and without any fuzz obscuring a lot of the detail you can hear just how crisp, and superbly layered these arrangements are. The new-wave outlier “Nervous Young Human” practically radiates with a newfound sheen, and is handedly the most radio-ready song the band have ever written, but it still folds seamlessly into the record’s mid-section between the anthemic, distortion-fueled peaks of “Sober to Death” and the record’s mid-album power-pop stunner, “Bodys”. Toledo’s drawing from a great deal here of different sub-genres here, and he manages to land on a remarkably uniform sound that belies the myriad of intricacies at work that prevent these compositions from being crushed underneath the weight of their own ambition. The album’s greatest achievement is how deftly Will manages to tell a story about the most profound event of his life coupled with music that’s as multi-faceted as the human experience being conveyed. TF may be proudly out of step with the current cultural zeitgeist from a sonic perspective, but the sentiments conveyed throughout are sublime missives from a distinctly millennial outlook. As far as concept albums about a single relationship are concerned, Toledo has set the bar this century with TF.

Essentials: “Famous Prophets (Stars)”, “Beach Life-In-Death”, “Bodys”

15. Modern Vampires of the City- Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend have come a long way from the indie afro-pop roots of their debut to their pastoral, jam band informed fourth LP, Father of the Bride, but on their third LP, Modern Vampires of the City the band refined their sound to a sublime strain of chamber music and art pop filled with Ezra Koenig’s strongest writing to date. Whereas their first two records were entirely produced by the band’s multi-instrumentalist and not-so-secret weapon Rostam Batmanliij, on MVotC Ariel Reitscheid, a producer known for working with acts like Charli XCX, Haim, Solange, etc joined the proceedings, and there’s a lighter feel to a lot of the arrangements, but everything has more dimension overall, and the low-end really pops on a lot of these in a way that it hadn’t really before. There are plenty of welcome production choices throughout, like the sprinkling of auto-tune on “Step”, or the blistering saxophone solo on “Worship You” that do a great deal to expand the parameters of the band’s sound without ever finding them really going out of their depth. Compared to their prior records there’s a fairly vast tonal gap on MVotC, with a heightened sense of existential dread and fixations on mortality, nostalgia, and faith. It’s weighty stuff without question, and the exceptional pacing goes a long towards helping evenly pack in the melancholic, languid compositions like “Everlasting Arms” and “Don’t Lie” with infectious up-tempo numbers like “Diane Young”, “Unbelievers”, and “Finger Back” that, while far from the best of what’s here are still as immediate as anything they’ve ever released and benefit from the same immaculate arrangement, production, and writing as everything else here even if they don’t break as much new ground. But the best of what’s here are without question among the best pop songs released so this far century.

Both opener “Obvious Bycycle” and “Step” are devastating looks at nostalgia that frame Ezra’s thoughtful character sketches in rich compositions that in the case of the former consist of soft wisps of grand piano, percussion that sounds like a stamp being punched, and surprisingly visceral bass, while in the case of the latter the band opt for gorgeous harpsichord arrangements, and a swaggering bassline. But “Hannah Hunt”, which is for the record the best VW song to date, is on another level entirely. It opens like the sun after the storm with field recording of a crowd of people clearing away for delicate grand piano and the gentle rumble of bass. Ezra sings of a relationship slowly starting to break apart as a couple travels the country together “A gardener told me some plants move/But I could not believe it/’Til me and Hannah Hunt/Saw crawling vines and weeping willows”. The song slowly builds into a rousing baroque pop crescendo over roaring keys as Ezra delivers one of his most devastating lines to date “If I can’t trust you then damn it Hannah/There’s no future, there’s no answer/Though we live on the US dollar/You and me we got our own sense of time”. Rostam left VW in 2016, and although their first record without him, the aforementioned 2019 comeback LP, FotB, his absence was sorely felt. On “Hudson” it almost sounds like Rostam is singing to Ezra, under that lens especially, it’s functions as a poignant, but fitting cap to VW’s first era. As great as FotB, Rostam’s 2017 debut Half-Light, and I Had a Dream That You Were Mine, his 2016 collaboration with Hamilton Leithauser of The Walkmen, I hope that MVotC isn’t the last time the two of them work on a full LP together.

Essentials: “Hannah Hunt”, “Step”, “Ya Hey”

14. Channel Orange- Frank Ocean

Few albums released throughout the last decade have brought about the sort of sweeping sea change that Frank Ocean’s sublime debut LP, Channel Orange, did. Ocean’s kaleidoscopic, self-released 2011 mixtape Nostalgia, Ultra established his artistry as something far beyond that of the go-to hook ghostwriter identity he cut his teeth establishing for himself. A year and a half later, amidst signing to Def Jam, collaborating extensively with Tyler, the Creator, Kanye West, and Jay-Z, and writing a now legendary tumblr post stating that his first love was for another man a few days before releasing his immensely anticipated debut LP, Frank Ocean released that album, and decided to call it Channel Orange. Like Ocean’s music itself, the narrative surrounding his ascension feels both timeless (moving to LA after Hurricane Katrina struck his hometown of New Orleans, ghostwriting and joining Tyler, the Creator’s hip-hop collective Odd Future before releasing his own music, which drew primarily from soul, classic r&b, and funk more than anything that was on the radio at the time) and modern (sampling extensively on N,U, having a few key co-signs that seemed to unlock all the right connections, leveraging the power of the internet along with the rest of Odd Future to build and sustain a fanbase) but none of it would matter if the music didn’t live up to the hype. But all of this is particularly interesting to consider when talking about CO, especially considering that it’s the best debut LP of the 10s, and an absolute master class in songwriting.

CO is a remarkably fully-formed debut LP that finds Ocean in complete control of his craft on all fronts. The instrumentation is a lush palette of analog keys, bass, and strings, and with the exception of a few fairly stripped down ballads, shows a keen command for maximalism that never sounds overwrought. Even a song like the colossal, mid-album change-up “Pyramids”, is saved from complete indulgence after the beat seamlessly shifts into a woozy down-tempo trap instrumental with plenty of space for Ocean’s falsetto to linger in. Ocean would shift gears dramatically with the 2016 visual album, Endless, and his second studio LP, Blonde, trading in the rich, dense analog soul and r&b for a minimal psychedelic soul sound. While the production on Blonde and Endless is more impressive than that of CO, neither record was quite able to match the lush immediacy that seemed to come to Ocean so naturally here. Ocean produced the record alongside the musicians Jonathon Ikpeazu, Malay, and Om’Mas Keith who all provided additional keys, drum programming, and/or guitars. Earl Sweatshirt, Tyler, the Creator, and Andre 3000 are the only guests that provide verses, and while each completely delivers, CO is Ocean’s record through and through. Regardless of whether Ocean is singing about the emptiness of privilege (“Super Rich Kids”), or depicting a tale of someone’s life falling apart due to crack addiction (“Crack Rock”) or delivering the closest thing he’ll likely ever come to a straight forward love song (“Thinkin’ Bout You”) his eye for detail, wit, intelligence, and empathy render the characters as rich, and multi-faceted regardless of what angle he’s coming at them from. The warmth and immediacy of the instrumentation and Ocean’s voice draws you in, but it’s the sheer strength of his songwriting that elevates CO from simply being another immensely promising debut to the classic that it is.

Essentials: “Crack Rock”, “Bad Religion”, “End / Golden Girl” ft. Tyler, the Creator

13. Sunbather- Deafheaven

Deafheaven were far from the first band to blend black metal, shoegaze, and post-rock, but on their stellar 2013 record Sunbather they distilled elements of these genres into a punishing, and breathtaking sound that’s unmistakably theirs. Their solid 2010 debut Roads to Judha showed tremendous promise, but their songwriting wasn’t on par with their ambitions yet. But on Sunbather, Deafheaven lived up to that early promise. Sunbather is primarily a blistering fusion of black metal drumming and shrieks engulfed in walls of shoegaze guitar that often give way to instrumental outros that shine with the radiance of Sigur Ros or Explosions in the Sky. George Clarke delivers the lyrics in an indecipherable shriek that either amplifies the intensity of the surrounding arrangements, or is used as a sublime juxtaposition to their fleeting moments of transcendent beauty. Sunbather is seven songs long, and superbly paced so that the band’s lengthier compositions are evenly split between songs that include a dreamy minimalist guitar/piano composition (“Irresistible”), a menacing baroque-noise march that congeals midway through into a jangly guitar conclusion (“Please Remember”), and an eerie collage of vocal samples and droning strings (“Windows”). This odd assortment of songs may seem random, but they do a nice job of breaking up the surrounding onslaught, and demonstrating the band’s range, while still adhering to the record’s searing aesthetic. It’s remarkably accessible music as far as metal is concerned, and if you can make it past the tone of Clarke’s voice there’s a lot to love about this album.

For all of Sunbather’s seemingly impenetrable harshness, there’s a great deal of beauty glistening just beneath the surface. On Sunbather, Deafheaven managed to strike a near perfect balance between beauty and chaos that, while greater heights were achieved later on, they never quite improved upon. The longer numbers here transition into moments of transcendent, cathartic beauty, and back into frenetic fury so subtly, and masterfully, that the juxtapositions quickly begin to seem less like extreme exercises in contrasting dynamics and tones so much as the fluid spectrum of Deafheaven’s multi-faceted artistry. And while the lyrics throughout Sunbather match the brutality of the corresponding arrangements, they also match their life-affirming, triumphant sense of urgency. Whether Clarke is reflecting on habitual patterns and habits that he just can’t shake “Lost in the patterns of youth/And the ghost of your aches comes back to haunt you/And the forging of change makes no difference” on “Vertigo” or ruing the alcoholism that he inherited from his father “In the hallways lit up brightly but couldn’t find myself/I laid drunk on the concrete on the day of your birth in celebration of all you were worth” on closer “The Pecan Tree”, his lyrics throughout Sunbather imbue his tortured yelps with a devastating poignancy rendered all the more morose by the band’s unflinching, formidable poise. It’s not hard to hear why Sunbather was the best reviewed album of 2013, and a game changer for black metal. Few records, metal or otherwise, have managed to convey such overwhelming emotional intensity through such ambitious composition. Its crushing beauty hasn’t lost an ounce of its potency in the years since.

Essentials: “Dream House”, “The Pecan Tree”, “Sunbather”

12. To Pimp a Butterfly- Kendrick Lamar

Kendrick Lamar caught the attention of the zeitgeist with his generation defining sophomore LP, Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, but that record’s follow-up, To Pimp a Butterfly, cemented his status as one of the definitive musical auteurs of his generation. Whereas the former record was a gripping street epic that seamlessly tucked a coming of age story into the larger fabric of a blockbuster west coast hip-hop record, the latter record blew open the history of black music and wove together a tapestry of disparate styles that congealed to express a more multi-faceted look at the black experience. The beats are composed of live instrumentation courtesy of Terrance Martin, Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, and a plethora of the west coast jazz elite, and they span the likes of jazz, r&b, soul, and funk alongside instrumental hip-hop without showing the seams. The music runs the gamut from uplifting anthems (“Alright”) to bouts of unbridled fury (“The Blacker the Berry”), and everywhere in-between, but thanks to Kendrick’s deft pacing and execution nothing sounds out of place, and there’s no mistaking these songs for the work of anyone else through sheer scope alone. Kendrick’s writing and rapping had increased considerably since GKMC, but throughout TPaB he spends less time trying to prove what a capable rapper he is, and far more time using his ability to explore the nuances of systemic racial issues through the lens of a plethora of different characters. TPaB couldn’t have possibly sounded more out of step with the zeitgeist upon its release, but in venturing beyond what hip-hop in the mid 10s sounded like, and exploring perspectives beyond those of himself, he was able to tap into something far more universally human.

Throughout the course of TPaB Kendrick tackles a wide plethora of topics with music that’s matches the breadth and scope of his thematic ambitions. The g-funk strut “King Kunta” is one of the most immediate songs in his career, and he juxtaposes the song’s infectious backdrop against verses that evoke the resilience of Kunta Kinte in the novel Roots as a through line for the jarring shift he experienced throughout his come-up after growing up in poverty. “u?” brilliantly distills the sort of tragic survivor’s guilt that Kendrick experienced in the wake of his success watching so many of his friends continue to succumb to the perils of systemic racism through harsh free-jazz arrangements, while “i” gains power within the context of the record as an uplifting neo-soul anthem of self-love after the preceding storm has subsided. The uplifting anthem “Alright” has become a canonical protest song in the wake of civil unrest as a result of excessive police brutality while the finale, “Mortal Man”, begins with some of his strongest verses to date before transitioning into a fabricated interview with 2Pac. There’s an absurd amount to unpack within the songs on TPaB, but the album never buckles under the weight of its ambition, and delivers performances that are striking at every turn. Kendrick never shies away from depicting the devastating realities throughout the history of the black American experience, but he finds reasons to persist through these tribulations in the power of community, god, and love.

Essentials: “The Blacker the Berry”, “u”, “Wesley’s Theory” ft. George Clinton

11. Lonerism- Tame Impala

On Tame Impala’s debut, Innerspeaker, the band proved adept at piecing together the finest moments from their record collections into strange, idiosyncratic new shapes, but on their sublime sophomore LP, Lonerism, they began to push their sound into the present moment. The flanged guitars, shuffling drum rhythms, and frontman Kevin Parker’s Lennon-esque falsetto are a hallmarks of classic psychedelic rock, but the spellbinding synth textures, evocative samples, and cavernous production showcase a definitively 21st century sensibility. There was no mistaking them for a pure homage act on Lonerism. With the exception of piano on a few tracks courtesy of Jay Watson, and a spoken word interlude courtesy of Melody Prochet, Lonerism was written, recorded, and produced entirely by Kevin Parker, and it helped signal a major shift from bands being the dominant artistic vehicle in indie music to the solo artist taking up that mantle. Lonerism is a perfectly paced album, and aside from a few breathers, and a few epics, it almost plays like a greatest hits set. There were signs of the disco-prog synth act that Tame Imapa developed into on a few of Lonerism’s more immediate moments, but this is still thoroughly steeped in the lineage of psychedelic rock, acid rock, and blues rock. With Lonerism, Parker began to show signs of the poptimist that he was all along, but he hadn’t yet compromised the instrumental ingenuity that he’s capable of for a strong melody, and so here you get the best of both worlds; the band’s sharpest hooks and most adventurous production. Lonerism is where Tame Impala evolved from a promising project with immense potential into one of the defining musical acts of Parker’s generation.

Lonerism is a record that completely lives up to its title as a concept record about isolation. Every song here finds Parker grappling with some aspect of self-imposed isolation set against hazy, psychedelic pop/rock instrumentation. Some songs like, the disarmingly immediate “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” spells out his anguish explicitly, with a love interest that he keeps falling for against his best judgement, while “Endors Toi” finds Parker rejecting the hardships of reality for the bliss that’s only possible when you’re literally dreaming. The lyrics rarely go deep, but on a record like this they’re entirely beside the point. Thankfully Parker’s writing works superbly within the context of the concept without detracting from the instrumentation and production. Parker wrote a few strong hooks on IS, but they were the exception, not the norm. On Lonerism, Parker’s melodic intuition had fully blossomed, and the hooks on songs like “Elephant”, “Why Won’t She Talk to Me”, and “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” were more immediate, and more memorable than anything on the top 40 at the time. The songs on Lonerism are bursting with sonic personality; whether we’re talking about the euphoric streaks of synth that send “Apocalypse Dreams” into the stratosphere, the phaser-smeared guitars and immersive samples that bring “Sun’s Coming Down” to its triumphant finale, or the propulsive drum fllls that propel “Endors Toi”, Lonerism is the most sonically rich record that Parker has ever released. Parker would achieve more audacious and unexpected heights on his superb 2015 follow-up, Currents, but he has yet to top Lonerism’s consistency, and near perfect balance between studio experimentation and pure pop craftsmanship.

Essentials: “Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control”, “Sun’s Coming Up”, “Apocalypse Dreams”

10. Flower Boy- Tyler, the Creator

Flower Boy may not have come as a surprise to those who closely followed Tyler Okonoma’s progression from the lo-fi hardcore hip-hop days of Bastard and early Odd Future through his chaotic, candy-coated third LP, Cherry Bomb, but for the casual listener it may have seemed like an unthinkable evolution. And no one could have predicted its consistency. The signs of Tyler progressing into melodic, psych-leaning neo-soul were on the wall as early as his terrific 2013 record, Wolf, but on FB his melodic sensibilities, compositional chops, and an increasingly empathetic outward writing perspective all coalesced into an idiosyncratic tapestry of vibrant sound and color unlike any hip hop record ever recorded. It’s the first time that Tyler’s chops had fully caught up with his ambition, allowing him to completely deliver on the promise of a truly genre-adverse opus that Cherry Bomb merely hinted at. The lyrics are somber, and reflective, demonstrating Tyler’s newfound sense of maturity that would have been unthinkable throughout the early OF days. The sincerity and vulnerability of the lyrics go a long way towards heightening the potency of his vibrant, melodically rich compositions. FB capitalizes on all the strange contradictions that have always been inherent in his music, while removing the adolescent excess that have bogged down each prior release. The result is a highwater mark for what hip-hop and neo-soul can sound like unbridled with concern for what music should sound like. That attention to detail and unrelenting creative spirit are what helped propel FB into being the classic record that it ended up being.

Eschewing the lo-fi Neptunes meets MF DOOM beats of his past records, Tyler landed on a perfect blend of neo-soul synths, jazz strings/horns, and drums that split the difference between classic boom-bap and mid-10s trap for FB. The music is bright and vibrant, with a wealth of detail tucked within each mix that rewards multiple listens. There are songs that are completely in Tyler’s wheelhouse, like the frantic, mid-album trap cut “I Ain’t Got Time!”, and a few like the show-stopping psychedelic soul ballad, “Garden Shed”, that dramatically expand the parameters of his sound, but they all cohere together superbly into a fully-realized kaleidoscope of sound. Even the songs like “Pothole” and “November” that seem like more run of the mill Tyler cuts showcase a renewed sense of focus and tight production that belie their simple construction. FB is a record that’s focused on unrequited love, and while themes of abandonment, disillusionment with fame, growing pains, and insecurity emerge as on past records, the bulk of the action is focused on Tyler coming to terms with both his bisexuality and the anguish of a missed connection. Rarely does heartbreak sound so unflinchingly, thrillingly alive. True to form, the music is never mopey or saccharine, but it’s always brimming with the intensity of young love. FB is the record that Tyler has always set out to make, and while I’m sure he’ll top it at some point, it currently stands at the definitive realization of his singular vision.

Essentials: “911 / Mr. Lonely” ft. Frank Ocean & Stevey Lacy, “Garden Shed” ft. Estelle, “See You Again” ft. Kali Uchis

9. Until the Quiet Comes- Flying Lotus

After Steve Ellison, aka Flying Lotus, dropped his masterful third LP, Cosmogramma, it seemed like he could take his sound anywhere, but doubling down and improving on the maximalist excess of Cosmogramma would have proved a near impossible task. Thankfully, on his stellar follow-up LP, Until the Quiet Comes, FlyLo swung all the way in the opposite direction, and despite it being the flavor of the decade minimalism rarely ended up sounding better on any other artist. UtQC is a minimalist electronic jazz/instrumental hip hop record with dreamy meditative arrangements that belie their complexity at every turn. The album is a concept record that finds FlyLo exploring the realms of human consciousness coupled with ambitious arrangements and immersive production that complements his thematic ambitions perfectly. FlyLo is still making beats in a traditional sense, but the compositions on this LP are more rich and varied than the entire discography of most producers, and the music he draws from spans the likes of ambient, psychedelia, r&b, post-rock, progressive rock, and meditative astral jazz as much as his usual instrumental hip hop, IDM, and free jazz touchstones. And so while UtQC is more insular, less immediate, and more likely to necessitate multiple listens than any other record of his, it’s the best showcase of FlyLo’s versatility, melodic intuition, and use of texture.

The compositions are short and sweet, and barely last longer than it takes for FlyLo to introduce an idea, tweak it, thwart expectations, and move on. Like on Cosmogramma, UtQC incorporates live instrumentation weaved throughout various compositions (Thundercat’s bass playing was cemented as a staple element of FlyLo’s sound here) as well as vocal features from the likes of Thundercat, Thom Yorke, Laura Darlington, and Niki Randa. The features are all utilized tastefully, and heighten the potency of the existing arrangements without detracting too much. There are songs like “All In” and “Yesterday/Corded” that just feature FlyLo alone constructing remarkable, lived-in soundscapes from his usual toolkit of drum machines, samplers, sequencers, and keys, while others like the title track and “DMT Song” that commit thoroughly to their minimalism, and coast effortlessly around strong melodies or guest vocal performances. Many of these songs retain the visceral low-end and celestial sweep of his best work, but they don’t serve to overwhelm and disorient as much as they sedate and mesmerize. “Getting There” hits the sweet spot, with and infectious, heavy-hitting low-end juxtaposed against Niki Randa’s sweeping falsetto. UtQC may not go for the jugular as FlyLo’s prior two records, but it’s just as captivating in its own quietly confident way.

And a few of the songs on the back half of the record are some of the most gorgeous that FlyLo has ever composed. The loose and dreamy “Only if You Wanna” provides a simple but sublime bridge from the drum and bass rush of “The Nightcrawler” into the droning r&b mirage with Yorke’s vocals wafting eerily through the crevices in the mix. From there the record moves into “Hunger” and “Phantasm”, two songs that skew the closest that FlyLo has ever veered toward straight up ambience, and they slowly unfurl into gorgeous, unpredictable string progressions as Niki Randa and Laura Darlington deliver understated, ethereal vocals, respectively. From there we’re led into “me Yesterday//Corded”, one of the strongest songs that FlyLo has released to date. It begins in the same somber, minor-key tone of the preceding songs before erupting into a cosmic drum and bass coda with a euphoric melody and pitch-shifted vocals. The final song, “Dream to Me” is a whirring synth and woodwind lullaby that brings everything full circle, leading us right back into the intro, “All In”. UtQC breezes by in nearly 47 minutes, but there’s another singular, self-contained universe of detail packed into this record’s spellbinding grooves.

Essentials: “yesterday//Corded”, “Electric Candyman ft. Thom Yorke”, “All In”

8. Carrie & Lowell- Sufjan Stevens

By the time that Sufjan Stevens released Carrie & Lowell he had already released several classic records and had undergone several stylistic change-ups, but nothing in his discography established the precedent for a masterwork quite like C&L. On C&L Sufjan returned to the sparse chamber folk sound of his superb fourth record, Seven Swans, but he replaced the short vignettes and character studies that peppered that record with an engrossing scope that centers around his tumultuous relationship with his late mother who suffered from substance addiction and schizophrenia. The music is hushed, and minimal, consisting of little more than finger plucked guitar, banjo, ukulele, and an assortment of strings underneath Sufjan’s tender delivery. His music has always radiated a sense of overwhelming empathy, and so when plumbing the depths of his psyche for memories of his mother the tone is often devastating and cathartic in equal measure, but never overly morose or self-pitying. With C&L Sufjan succeeded in honoring his mother’s memory as honestly and as faithfully as he could while his songwriting hit a new peak.

C&L sustains an almost overwhelming poignancy throughout its duration, but it’s never a slog. The heaviness of the sentiments never really subsides, but these songs are each filled with strong hooks, sweeping melodies, and a disarming directness that he’s never quite managed on prior records. Songs like the opening cut “Death with Dignity”, “Should Have Known Better”, and “The Only Thing” soar with warm, infectious hooks and nimble guitar arrangements alongside a few electronic and orchestral embellishments, while songs like “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross” and “Fourth of July” bring the tempo to a crawl and bask in Sufjan’s falsetto and minor-key acoustic guitar arrangements. It all comes to a head on the devastating centerpiece “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”, as Sufjan depicts the self-destructive behavior he engaged in right after his mother’s death “There’s blood on that blade/Fuck me, I’m falling apart/My assassin/Like Casper the ghost/There’s no shade in the shadow of the cross” just so that he could feel closer to her.

Essentials: “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”, “Death with Dignity”, “The Only Thing”

7. Some Rap Songs- Earl Sweatshirt

Earl Sweatshirt was arguably the greatest living rapper before dropping his magnum opus, Some Rap Songs, but since its release it’s become much harder to dispute. On SRS Earl runs through 15 songs in 22 minutes, delivering sometimes little more than a hook and a verse per song before transitioning into the next one. The songs operate according to their own logic, and forgo traditional song structure for a loop-based compositional approach. Earl produced the bulk of the record himself, and heavily opted for dusty, de-tuned pianos, shuffling, lo-fi percussion, and a plethora of discordant texture. Earl’s precision is remarkable, and what may initially scan as awkward or clumsy flows slowly reveal themselves to be masterfully sidestepping the rhythms entirely. But for all its challenging aspects, SRS is hardly a precious, posturing sort of record. It demands your full attention, but will reward it several times over.

The songs throughout SRS are bleak missives from a remarkable talent unpacking years of trauma. The record tackles many of the same themes of abandonment, drug abuse, and depression as his past records, but he’s cut out any lingering excess in his prose, distilling only what’s absolutely necessary into each bar. The rapping is lean, and virtuosic, but never showy, and the brevity of the songs themselves is indicative of how succinct and substantial the music there is. Songs like “Red Water” have just a single couplet that he repeats a few times as the ebb and flow of the instrumental sustains the onset momentum, while other songs like “The Mint” are closer to convention, but still unfold along unpredictable loops, and verses that zig zag in and out of the mix at irregular intervals. There are songs like “Cold Summers” and “The Bends” that are the closest that Earl comes to rapping accessibly, and there are those like “Playing Possums” and Peanuts" that owe more to tape loops, ambient, and noise music than anything resembling hip hop. SRS and it’s follow-up EP, Feet of Clay, are easily the most challenging, experimental, and divisive records that Earl has released to date, but they’re also singular masterworks that push hip hop into stranger, and more human realms.

Essentials: “Peanut”, “The Mint” ft. Navy Blue, “December 24”

6. New Bermuda- Deafheaven

After releasing their superb second LP, Sunbather, Deafheaven had become one of the most acclaimed metal bands of the century, and had achieved a level of popularity unprecedented for metal bands. Never mistaken by anyone as purists, Deafheaven began their career flirting with through lines between shoegaze, black metal, and post-rock before tastefully combining them on Sunbather. While they easily could have churned out another LP of post-rock/blackgaze of the same stripe, the band went deeper and darker, and re-emerged with their third LP, New Bermuda, the heaviest, and arguably most melodic, record of their career to date. Across five songs that collectively clock in around 46 minutes Deafheaven continue to expand their parameters of their sound, incorporating heavier tremelo guitars, incendiary blast beats, and sweeping post-rock passages that are more adventurous, expansive, and gorgeous, than what any other bands are doing today. NB may lean the furthest towards the brutality of classic black metal, but the band’s 2015 onslaught still amplifies an immense feeling of transcendence alongside the terror.

Opener “Brought to the Water” rustles to life with the ominous sway of church bells before its lead guitar riff kicks into gear, foreshadowing the premium they place on atmosphere with foreboding timbres. Throughout the next several minutes the band continue to build a scorched earth black metal composition bristling with distortion and rapid fire drumming that eventually slyly segues into a sugary breakdown reminiscent of “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer. It’s disarming, and unprecedented, but a perfectly logical evolution of their sound that reaffirms their status as the most versatile band at the vanguard of contemporary black metal. “Luna” and “Come Back” are two of the heaviest songs that Deafheaven have ever released, and get a ton of mileage out of their seismic guitar riffs and pummeling percussion, while “Luna” boasts one of the loveliest melodies they’ve ever penned, gliding alone a star-dusted, stratosphere-bound guitar riff. Closer “Gifts for the Earth” is a succinct culmination of the preceding 38 minutes, capped off with their most cathartic coda to date with jangly guitar and minor key piano softly swirling around Clarke’s feral shrieks. The warmth exuded beneath Clarke’s shrapnel-laced delivery posits Deafheaven as a band executing well-beyond the scope and limitations of metal.

Essentials: “Gifts for the Earth”, “Brought to the Water”, “Luna”

5. Halcyon Digest- Deerhunter

By the time that Deerhunter geared up to record their fifth LP, Halycon Digest, they already had a rich body of work behind them, but very little of their music set the kind of precedent for where they would go on HD. Here, Deerhunter tapered down their most avant-garde impulses in favor of cleaner guitar arrangements and big, bright melodies, unearthing the pop band they’ve always been at their core with poise and aplomb. The walls of guitar noise, ambient interludes, and studio effects that had defined their previous releases became relegated to marginal aspects of their song craft, and they began opening up their songs like never before. Thankfully, they didn’t dilute their sound, they just cleaned it up, and the 11 songs that make up HD are the most immediate, and richly produced (thanks to Ben Allen, who produced this record after nailing Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion a year prior) of Deerhunter’s career to date. Deerhunter’s shift towards accessibility only seemed to accentuate their inherent strangeness, and HD remains one of the most engaging and endlessly replayable indie pop records of the 21st century.

From the droning low-end thump that ignites opener “Earthquake” it’s clear something substantial has shifted. Allen’s biggest contribution was a heightened low-end that caused Josh Fauver’s bass to really pop without distracting too much from the rest of the arrangements. This extra oomph propels songs like “Don’t Cry” and “Coronado” well into infectious, anthemic territory while it helps ground more ambitious cuts like “Helicopter” and “Desire Lanes”. Frontman Bradford Cox had completely grown into his role as a charismatic, provocative frontman with the pipes and poetic disposition to back up the antics, and propel his band towards a stadium sized sound even if they would never end up touring them. Bradford’s vocal melodies on closer “…He Would Have Laughed” and centerpiece “Helicopter” are the strongest that the band ever penned, while he delivers two of his most impressive vocal performances on the lulling “Sailing” and the pensive “Earthquake”. The closer, a tribute to the late Jay Reatard, is perhaps Deerhunter’s finest moment to date, with Bradford spinning surreal couplets “I live on a farm, yeah/I never lived on a farm” around the band’s steady harpsichord pulse until the composition bursts with euphoria, and then slowly begins to fade out before cutting out abruptly. Deerhunter have never made a bad record, but HD was the last time they showed how simultaneously adventurous and immediate pop music can be.

Essentials: “He Would Have Laughed”, “Helicopter”, “Desire Lanes”

4. Black Messiah- D’Angelo & The Vanguard

In the years following D'Angelo’s spectacular second LP, Voodoo, it seemed increasingly likely that he would never release another record. But then in the twilight days of 2014 D'Angelo surprise dropped his 3rd and best LP to date, Black Messiah, with a new band supporting him called The Vanguard (which consisted of Questlove on drums, Pina Palladino on bass, Isaiah Sharkey on guitar, Roy Hargrove on horns, and a handful of other musicians). BM eschews the warm r&b/neo-soul solo singer-songwriter sound of the first two D'Angelo LPs in favor of a fiery cocktail of avant-garde soul, jazz funk, and psychedelic r&b that’s simultaneously more abrasive and experimental than anything he had done prior. D'Angelo still has a remarkably agile falsetto, but it’s been notably weathered by the years away, and it now has a grainier disposition that happens to be a much better fit for the songs throughout the record. The band’s chemistry is just remarkable, and it’s hard to believe that they weren’t all cutting records with each other for decades prior. Unlike most artists that come back with new work after a notable dry spell, D'Angelo has never sounded more human than he does on this latest LP of his. Thankfully, despite the years apart D’Angelo hasn’t lost an ounce of his remarkable talent, and brings a magnetic charisma, sublime range, and a much sharper point of view to songs that reflect the turmoil of the preceding years of unrelenting police violence, yet respond in a multitude of ways. The Vanguard prove to be an ideal backdrop for D’Angelo’s songwriting, and together they achieve a new standard for neo-soul.

Although it had been 14 years, D'Angelo’s return felt right on time in the immediate wake of the deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, and plenty of others at the hands of the police. While D'Angelo’s music has never shied away from political statements, BM is by far the most explicitly political record of his career. “1000 Deaths” opens to a sample of a Khalid Abdul Muhammed speech about Jesus being black and quickly gives way to a visceral, funk rock rhythm and red-lining guitars with D'Angelo dissecting the difference between courage and cowardice “Because a coward dies a thousand times/But a soldier just dies once”. On the following track, “The Charade”, D'Angelo opts for searing soul that builds into his most anthemic melody to date while he delivers devastating imagery of the cruelty still inflicted on black people all over the world “All we wanted was a chance to talk/‘Stead we only got outlined in chalk” while “'Til It’s Done” contains D'Angelo’s finest melody to date and finds him questioning the nature of our existence and whether we’re really reckoning with the way that capitalists are destroying our planet “Perilous dissidence evening up the score/Do we even know what we’re fighting for?”. He also delivers some of his best love songs to date, including the funky mid-tempo shuffle of “Sugah Daddy”, the tender soul ballad “Betray My Heart”, and the spellbinding centerpiece “Really Love”. These songs fold neatly within the larger fabric of the record as a whole, and complement the politically charged songs without breaking the greater aesthetic. D'Angelo’s conviction is palpable throughout it all, and the newfound wisdom that he accrued in the years since Voodoo enrich the perspective that he brings to the songs in such a generous, humble way. Even if D’Angelo never releases another record we couldn’t have asked for a better swan song from him.

Essentials: “’Til It’s Done”, “The Charade”, “Really Love”

3. MBV- My Bloody Valentine

Like D'Angelo, it didn’t seem likely that My Bloody Valentine would ever follow-up their masterful second LP, but 22 years after the release of Loveless, in the dead of February 2013, MBV, the third My Bloody Valentine, finally emerged. There are 9 songs here, and they can neatly divided into three sections that find the band progressing from an extension of what they were doing in the 90s to styles never associated with them. MBV picks up right where Loveless left off, beginning with expansive suite of shoegaze songs rendered with the kind of sublime texture and tone as we’ve come to expect from the group, and slowly but surely they branch out into psychedelic pop, ambient, and pure noise, realms they’ve teased in the past but have never quite committed to prior. You can hear the band straining against their limitations, and although seeking out perfection is a fools errand, they nearly achieve it.

There’s no mistaking MBV as the work of any other band, but here they’re painting in darker, bolder hues than they’ve used in the past. Beginning with the opening song, “She Found Now”, their sound is much richer, and more forlorn, than it’s ever sounded, with thick plumes of guitar washing over wispy androgynous vocals and faint, skeletal percussion. Even as the tempos increase and the melodies begin to peak out beneath the fuzz, that wistful, melancholic tone remains. “Only Tomorrow” amps up the tempo with a driving rhythm and scorching guitars perpetually firing into the red

while “In Another Way” is a bludgeoning slice of driving noise pop with a strong melody from guitarist Belinda Butcher. “Nothing Is” coasts off the hypnotic repetition of its bludgeoning guitars for 3.5 minutes, and perfectly segues into the glorious noise piece, “Wonder 2”, which closes the record on a note of whirring guitars that approximate the overwhelming euphoria of first wave shoegaze, but takes the listener to much stranger places.

The nine songs throughout MBV strike a perfect balance between updating the shoegaze style that they perfected on loveless while wading into new territory, but it all hangs together beautifully. Kevin Shields and Belinda Butcher still harmonize on the bulk of these songs, and they’re ethereal delivery is still the perfect counterbalance for the aggression of the guitars. The searing slow-burn of “Who Sees You” is the peak of their vocal interplay, while on the midsection pop numbers like “New You” and “In Another Way” Butcher takes the reins and delivers two of the band’s strongest melodies to date over driving percussion and sleigh bells. The relative immediacy of “New You” is new sound for the band, and they completely deliver on its hypnotic pop premise. “Is This and Yes” and “Nothing Is” are the two instrumentals at the polar ends of the band’s sound that perfectly balance out the more dynamic songs, and the aforementioned noise piece “Wonder 2” complements the opening song “She Found Now” perfectly in that it’s an exploration of what My Bloody Valentine might explore more of if they ever release a fourth LP. It’s a miracle that MBV even exists in the first place, so the fact that it’s this good is just icing.

Essentials: “Only Tomorrow”, “New You”, “In Another Way”

2. Blonde- Frank Ocean

After releasing his generation defining 2012 debut Channel Orange, it was hard to say where he was going to take his music next. A cryptic series of videos in mid-August 2016 featuring Frank building a ladder led to few clues, but at the end of this week we received an audio-visual album titled Endless. Before anyone could really acclimate themselves to sleek, genre-agnostic minimalism of Endless, the proper follow-up to CO, titled Blonde, released a day later. Whereas CO was the sound of a singular talent discovering what he can do, Blonde is the sound of that talent capitalizing on those gifts with unparalleled precision. On Blonde Frank opts for a striking minimalist palette of psychedelic pop, avant-garde soul, ambient, and jazz, that are off-kilter and adventurous without sacrificing the warmth of his past work. Like CO, Blonde primarily explores themes of nostalgia, heartbreak, identify, and the nature of human perception, and here his eye for detail and attention to detail remains unmatched by any songwriter of the last decade.

From the opening song “Nikes”, Blonde presents itself as a drastic stylist departure from what Frank was doing prior. The first half is a distorted r&b dreamscape with Frank crooning in a pitch-shifted higher register, and actually has him rapping a few verses, before returning to his normal register. Blonde is filled with strange, yet tasteful stylistic touches like this, from the distorted shrieks at the end of “Ivy”, to the collapsing, pitch-shifted orchestra that gives way to an eerie children’s choir’s on “Pretty Sweet”, the album rarely shifts into anything that scans as conventional. “Pink and White” is the most straight forward moment on the album, but the verses rarely stay grounded, and soon give way to a soaring chorus that slyly tucks Beyonce’s voice into the fold before the instruments dissolve from the mix entirely. “Skyline To” and “Godspeed” flirt with ambience and put a great deal of emphasis on exploring texture and negative space, while “Close to You” is a brief, glitchy cover of Stevie Wonder’s classic that provides a terrific segue from the “Facebook Story” interlude into the record’s devastating centerpiece, White Ferrari. The record covers a remarkable amount of ground sonically, but it coheres in a way that completely belies this scope.

“Nikes” sets the tone for the record on the whole as Frank watches his friends lose themselves to the spoils of his fame and begins to recognize himself as a placeholder for a partner’s lost love. “Self-Control” depicts the story of one of Frank’s relationship’s imploding “I’ll be the boyfriend in your set dreams tonight/Noses on a rail, little virgin wears the white” set to a mesmerizing neo-soul slow-burn that unfurls a gorgeous, understated melody while “Nights” juxtaposes the highs of the come-up “Oooh nani nani/This feel like a Quaalude” with a guitar pop/boom-bap instrumental and the perils of fame with a woozy, cloud-rap adjacent second half “Shut the fuck up I don’t want to hear your conversation/Rollin” marijuana that’s a cheap vacation". The record hits its peak with the spectacular ballad, “White Ferrari”, the strongest song of his career to date. Over warm acoustic guitar provided by Alex G Frank details the permanence of the love that he’ll have for someone that he’s no longer in a relationship with “I care for you still and I will forever/That was my part of the deal, honest/We got so familiar”. The humility and humanity of the moment is heartbreaking, and speaks volumes about the depths of Frank’s artistry. Blonde set a new benchmark for avant-garde pop, and is arguably the most influential album of the past decade.

Essentials: “White Ferrari”, “Nights”, “Self-Control”

1. Cosmogramma- Flying Lotus

After breaking through with his superb sophomore LP, Los Angeles (a singular blend of IDM, trip-hip, and woozy Dilla & Madlib-esque instrumental hip-hop) it would have been easy for Flying Lotus to continue mining the same sounds for successive records that were just slight variations on that singular template. But for FlyLo’s third LP, Cosmogramma, he blew his sound wide open, eschewing the quantized beat grid for a lusher, more sprawling sound that couldn’t be confined to standard rhythms. Cosmogramma is steeped in the lineage of instrumental hip hop and IDM like its predecessor, but it manages to juggle a wider palette of disparate styles such as four on the floor, drum and bass, jungle, free-jazz, and experimental bass while incorporating a wide variety of guest musicians that do a superb job of fleshing out his expansive compositions. Cosmogramma is a record that can barely contain its ambition, and despite having been released over a decade ago it still shines like a beacon illuminating the boundless possibilities of where music can go.

The sublime fusion of the live instrumentation, supplied by Thundercat on bass, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson contributing string arrangements, and Ravi Coltrane providing tenor saxophone, among many others coupled with FlyLo’s mind-warping production is what gives the album it’s compelling thrust. The first half primarily splits the difference between frantic drum and bass/synth-pop heaters and atmospheric cosmic-jazz interludes, and the pacing is just remarkable, with no moment overstaying it’s welcome and plenty of space to give each idea the space it needs to develop. Thom Yorke drops by for a wispy vocal performance on the agile IDM strut “And the World Laughs With You” while Thundercat delivers a formal career introduction on the tender ballad “MmmHmm” before the record shifts into the infectious four on the floor centerpiece, “Do the Astral Plane”. From here the record deploys the astral jazz and eastern influences in a more pronounced fashion on songs like “German Haircut” and “Dance of the Pseudo Nymph” respectively. The celestial ambience of “Table Tennis” featuring Laura Darlington is a welcome breather for the life-affirming synth surge of closer “Galaxy in Janaki”, ending the album on a somber, but ultimately uplifting note with Flylo sampling the ventilators that his mom was hooked up to on her death bed for a euphoric, synth-streaked send-off.

The enduring appeal lies in its function as ambition existing for the sake of ambition. The songs throughout Cosmogramma all vary in texture, tempo, and tone, and they all around great on their own, but it’s the journey from start to finish that Cosmogramma exemplifies as a spiritual experience. Cosmogamma was intended to function as a loose concept album of sorts about lucid-dreaming and out of body experiences influenced by the study of the universe, heaven, and hell, and it’s remarkable to hear just how much of that vision that he’s able to convey without the prevalence of vocals. Although electronic music has changed dramatically in the decade since Cosmogramma was released, the execution of FlyLo’s masterpiece hasn’t been in matched, in electronic music or anywhere where else. Cosmogramma is both the pinnacle of where music has been, and a glimpse at the possibilities of where it could go moving forward.

Essentials: “Galaxy in Janaki”, “Do the Astral Plane”, “MmmHmm” ft. Thundercat

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Text

Descent Pt. 7

Hi! I spent the last three days writing this chapter by smashing my head against the keyboard! I hope you enjoy! Also, SURPRISE! Lucifer!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Pairing: Simeon x Lucifer x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 6,200 ish Tags: Angst, Self harm/Self Mutilation, threesome F/M/M, Voyeurism, spitroasting Summary: Simeon asks for forgiveness and for a helping hand to finish his book.

Drip

He could ask for your forgiveness all he wanted, but you were under no obligation to give it to him. It was to be expected that you would pull away from him as soon as you awoke. It didn’t surprise him at all when you couldn’t bear to stand his touches. He deserved it for pushing too far.

He could ask for forgiveness, but God had long forsaken him.

Distance made the pain more tolerable. As long as he turned his mind off from everything else, he could imagine that it had all been a terrible dream that fueled his writing. If he focused everything he had to the sound of fingers on the keyboard, he wouldn’t have to think about the way you choked out his pen name, the despair in your eyes or the tears streaming down your face when you begged for mercy. He didn’t want to think about how shameful it was for him to be elated to see those desperate expressions from you.

He didn’t ask if your cuts and wounds were healing well. He knew they would. The inperceivable amount of magic he had used on you while you were passed out in his arms would ensure that. The only thing he wasn’t sure about anymore was his relationship with you and how you felt about him after what he put you through.

You managed to somehow keep things cordial. Despite what happened, you were both professionals in your field. Deadlines didn’t change just because of a botched session. You still had to read through his words and relive everything he did to you. It was mandatory to stay objective and help him create the most immaculate product possible. In the end, it was all about business and you had learned long ago to separate work from your personal life. It was just unfortunate that your personal life had also become your work with your current project.

The distraction of work didn’t stop the pain though. It didn’t stop you from waking up covered in a cold sweat every other night having dreamed of those dangerous dark eyes. You hadn’t gone to see him ever since that day, not like you really could. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to see him again. Work was piling up, the world around you kept spinning even if yours had stopped momentarily. Regardless of what your feelings were, you needed to run to keep up with the world and didn’t have time to think of yourself.

The scars he left behind healed well, they left no marks except for the invisible ones he carved into your heart that day. You could still feel the cold steel of the knife being dragged slowly across your skin, right at your ribs as he spelled his name, made you his and owned you for a brief moment in time. The cuts to the corners of your mouth and tongue healed remarkably quickly without leaving any blemishes. But the ghosting feeling of something cold and sharp never seemed to disappear along with the scabs.

Days melded into one another. You were able to bury yourself into work, wrecking whatever sleep schedule you normally had to distract yourself from reality. Piles upon piles of manuscripts all melted into one another and you slowly lost track of who wrote what along with the remnants of your sanity. The crinkle of paper as you turned pages was the last physical reminder that your reality was intimately tied to Simeon regardless of how much you wanted to get away from him.

Distance made things easier to bear. The need to stay separated was mutual. Simeon had a lot to reflect on and a lot to do. For the most part, his manuscript was done. The only thing he had left was the concluding chapter. He couldn’t bring himself to write it. Every time he put his fingers on the keyboard, he thought of you and everything you had done for him along with everything you did with him. His book had became an oddly intimate look at his desires and the inevitable end that he needed to write.

His eyes ached from staring at the screen for so long. The blinking cursor on the document taunted him. No matter how many times he wrote and rewrote, the ending wouldn’t come out right. He needed you the most, yet he could not rely on you when you were so far away. Toys had gotten him so far, but describing the intimacy of affection between two humans felt like an insurmountable task. There had to be away around it. The heavy burden of sin weighed on his shoulders as he warred with himself. His name, his reputation, all for the fall? It was impossible.

He had to see a way through it.

Until he could figure it out; he deserved every little bit of scorn you threw at him. Every passing day, hour, minute, and second that went without being in contact with you drained him. The color in his world slowly disappeared until there was nothing but the black text on white paper.

It started just at the corner of his vision. In his dark office, it was easy to ignore when his focus was on the words in front of him. It was easy to pretend nothing was wrong when he went to get a cup of tea. But, the change was definite and true. Soon enough, he wondered just when did he own so many mugs in various shades of gray.

Ah, so this is what it’s come to. I suppose it’s fitting.

He could feel his senses slowly seeping away from him, ashamed of everything he did. He held the facade of an upright and chivalrous angel, but internally he was a husk of himself. Somehow, he had managed to become a demon without falling from grace. He supposed it should have been considered a miracle. It meant that not all hope was lost. If he applied himself, then surely he could claw his way out of the hole he created.

If.

If only he cared enough to do such a thing. Living as a shell seemed to be so much easier than pretending he was immune to human temptation. In pursuit of a perfect craft, he lost himself to all the allure the human realm had to offer. Two steps away from the gates of Hell, there seemed to be no turning back. Sacrifices had to be made in order to obtain perfection. Perhaps selling his soul to the devil was the last option he had to achieve it. It would be a worthy price to pay.

Pain made it easier to bear the weight of sin. It wasn’t a modern method by any means, but it brought him closer to the light once more. He repented with every crack of the whip upon his back, every scar he inflicted on himself. For every drop of blood he shed, he returned to the good he dedicated so much of his life to. The injuries would heal within a day, but the lingering ache would linger across his skin. The pain made him forget you and remember who he was. He was good. He was good.

He was good.

The most poignant thing he learned in the world of humans was the emotion of fear. That deep terror within him stirred as he thought of losing everything he had with change. After centuries of living, Simeon never doubted his powers or his wisdom until he had his finger hovering over your contact number to call and beg you for help. His hand shook while he stared blankly at the screen in front of him. He was so close to the end, yet so far away from the one person who would get him there. He was better than this, but he didn’t want anything greater than what he had created with you.

His simmering desires for you convinced him to call while the last vestiges of his goodness prevented him from making the call. He lost track of just how many hours he berated himself mentally all the while staring at numbers on his phone screen taunting him to take those last few steps to Hell.

And then. A light in his darkness.

[SMS: Do you need help?]

You knew exactly why he had been ignoring all your emails and your attempts at contacting him. You had needed your own time to heal and process everything that happened. Nearly a month had passed without a peep from him and you sincerely started to wonder if Simeon was alright. He canceled an unprecedented number of appearances and interviews. The PR mess that followed from that was enough to make you lose a full week of sleep. You didn’t blame him though, after you left his home that night when the storm finally passed, he seemed so tired.

You didn’t want to push the issue if you could help it. The book was almost complete. You had read it so many times over in your editing you swore you had a majority of it memorized. With only the final chapter missing, you could predict where his story was going, and the man rarely ever strayed from his outlines. An intimate and loving scene with his protagonist and her love interest who saved her from the clutches of evil was in order.

With the nature of the subject and were your relationship had just taken a turn to, you weren’t surprised at all he hadn’t submitted anything to you. Three days before your final deadlines and he still hadn’t contacted you. It was so uncharacteristic of him to turn in his work late; you had to take the initiative to get him to finish on time. So, it was a fair amount of despair that you sent that text, asking him if he needed help. Even if you skin crawled just thinking about being touched by him, you needed to do your job.

You clenched your phone, waiting for the screen to light up, your knuckles turning white from the force of your grip. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to. Someone had to be the adult and take one for the team. With Simeon’s name being so revered, it was clear to you that the minor sacrifice of your comfort for one more session with him would be worth it in the end.

So why couldn’t you stop yourself from crying?

The way he lilted his voice when he chased you still haunted your dreams at night. No matter how many blankets you wrapped around you could save you from the chill of that dreaded cold knife he dragged across your skin. There was no point in distancing yourself from him. Despite what happened, he was good. Having spent years working with him, you were sure you had a firm grasp of who he was as a person.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do...”

[SMS: come see me when you can]

You let out an earth shattering sigh. Whether it was from relief or from fear, you didn’t know. What you did know that it would all be over soon. The stress of the book, the anxiety you felt about Simeon, the pain that spread across your chest every time you thought about him, all of it would be over as soon as you got to see him again and figure it all out in person.

There was a terrible little part of you that was so curious about how he was going to solve the last piece of the puzzle to his book. The only way to find out was to go see him.

“What a surprise. A call from the great Christopher Peugeot himself.”

“Listen.”

“I am. Go on.”

Simeon sighed, already regretting the call he was making. After receiving your text, he wracked his brain for a solution to the ending of his book. He was so close, he could feel it; but the guilt he felt towards you prevented him from taking what he craved. It was after much agonizing and staring blankly at a wall that the idea struck him. He’d have to take matters in his own hands and direct the ending himself.

For that, he needed an extra helping hand.

Which is what landed him in the situation he was in at the current moment. Bargaining with the devil to help him. He didn’t think he’d stoop so low to pull on old connections. Yet, there he was, on the phone with someone he hadn’t spoken to in decades.

“I need your help…” Simeon admitted, still struggling with voicing his needs.

“Well, I assumed as much if you’re making the effort to talk on a personal line. How long has it been since I gave you this number? Twenty? Thirty years, now?”

“Twenty-seven, but that’s besides the point.” Simeon could feel the inkling of frustration creeping into his voice. His old friend always had the ability to pull out the worst in him. Spending over half a century in the human realm, they managed to stay out of each other’s hair for the most part.

His friend chuckled on the other side of the line. “Alright, what can I do for you?”

“Are you free this weekend? I uhm… I need some help with the last scene of my book.”

“Oh? The great Christopher Peugeot himself needs assistance from me? I’m flattered you’d consider me.”

“Just call me Simeon, Lucifer. Stop playing around.”

“I’ll clear up my schedule. I wouldn’t miss the chance to help you.”

Simeon sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or terrified that Lucifer agreed to help him out. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Oh, I know.” Lucifer was practically singing on the other end with smug excitement. “Should I prepare for anything in particular?”

“I… Uhm… I can explain when you get here.”

“Always the mysterious one...” Lucifer chided, chuckling softly. He didn’t push the subject any further and Simeon was glad for it. “From what I’ve seen from the press releases of your upcoming title, I can only assume I’ll need to wear my best underwear.”

“Do whatever you want. I’ll see you this weekend.” Simeon grumbled before ending the call. His face felt like it was on fire. He didn’t think he had hit rock bottom until he made an agreement with the devil.

It was truly unfortunate that the devil was the only person he could trust with this task.

“Oh, welcome! Come on in. We’ve been waiting.” The actual CEO of Akuzon was the last person you expected to see when you arrived at Simeon’s home that weekend. To say you were stunned was an understatement. You were stuck standing at the doorway, mouth agape and eyes wide, looking like a fool. It took a surprising amount of prying to get you to move past the door and into the home.

Simeon was already hard at work in the living room, typing frantically while Lucifer ushered you in. The grin on his face was full of mirth and amusement. It was clear he knew exactly the effect he had on people and he wasn’t pulling any punches when it came to throwing the weight of his power around.

“Simeon and I go way back.” Lucifer explained, taking a seat once he was sure you weren’t going to faint from shock. “When he asked me to help him out, there was no way I could deny him.”

Your words needed to catch up with your brain as the pieces started to clicked together. All you could manage was a lame “Ah.” You nodded slowly, looking back and forth between the two men, waiting for someone to confirm your suspicions.

Simeon finished typing and finally looked up. It seemed like he wanted to approach you, but he stayed put, unable to bring himself to get closer to you without your permission. “I cannot ask for you to trust me again. Not after what I put you through. I… I still need help with the last chapter of this book. So, I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but would you be comfortable with putting your trust in him?”

You blinked rapidly digesting what Simeon was proposing. You slowly turned your head to look at Lucifer who was casually lounging in his seat, his head resting on his propped up arm. A knowing smirk on his face while he waited for your answer. He practically exuded endless charisma and carried himself as every bit of the CEO he was. It was hard to deny his charm and you felt yourself nod before you could really process the gravity of your situation.

You hadn’t realized the anxious pressure in your chest relieve itself when your brain finally grasped the fact that you wouldn’t be at risk with seeing that side of Simeon again this time. This was a new partner, a new experience, a new touch, a good touch. You could do this.

There was still the hurdle of getting over being intimate with a man you had only seen in headlines. You expected that to be a rather difficult hindrance to the authenticity of the scene Simeon wanted to write. After all, it was supposed to be a soft and loving scene, nothing like what you had last gone through. Managing that with a stranger seemed to be a rather tall task.

Lucifer didn’t seem bothered by what he needed to do at all. Having been filled in with the gist of the situation, it was easy to slip just a hint of charm magic into his words to coax you out of your shell. He smiled, taking off the casual blazer he had on to reveal a perfectly fitted dress shirt hugged his frame in all the right places. Well, he doesn’t spare any expenses when it comes to looking good, no matter what the circumstances. Duly noted…

“Come here.” He beckoned, tilting his head and calling you over with just that motion.

Your body moved on its own, drawn to his aura, entranced by his name and his looks as well as his natural allure. When you locked eyes with him, it was as if Simeon wasn’t even in the room with you two anymore. The world faded away and you felt a warmth spread across your chest where the anxiety once was. He effortlessly made you feel safe somehow and you found yourself sitting in his lap without being asked to. He placed his arms loosely around you and the air between the two of you was absolutely electric.

You only noticed Simeon again when he walked over and adjusted his friend’s arms. He mumbled to himself as if possessed. He was present in the moment, but his mind was clearly elsewhere, writing his book while he posed the two of you in the ideal scenario. You could hear him come up with dialog on the fly, guiding Lucifer’s hands to your lower back to cradle you gently in his lap. With a little more direction Simeon had Lucifer rest his head at the crook of your neck. “I need you two to pretend to like each other… Please...”

You could feel Lucifer smirk against your skin, his lips just brushing against your pulse point when he spoke. “Oh, I won’t need to pretend to like her.”

You suppressed a shiver. Lucifer’s breath was so warm and his cologne was so cloying it made you feel rather lightheaded. There was an element of unspoken shame between the three of you. Allowing a stranger into what you had already established with Simeon felt so wrong. To do this with an old friend of his no less, there was distinct sense of sin about it the scene that felt rather right given the circumstances that lead up to it.

It was a blessing that Lucifer was so naturally handsome and mesmerizing. You were sure if it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have been so easy to feel at home in his lap. His long fingers playing at the hem of your blouse while he pressed soft kisses at your neck. If you remembered the sequence of events of the book correctly, the main character had just been saved by her ‘husband’ who happened to be an assassin given the same target at she had been. You needed to put yourself in the protagonist’s mind, pretend that the man in front of you was as precious as a spouse and as marvelous as a savior.

Lucifer fell into his role seamlessly, kissing your skin as if he had almost lost his most treasured possession. His embrace tightened just enough to draw you closer to him. It was easy to tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. The way his lips played across your skin was so tender and soft, you sighed in satisfaction just from his kisses. Instinctively, your hands went to his shoulders, pulling him towards you, encouraging him to keep going further.

You could hear Simeon typing on the other side of the room; the usually distracting sound of the keyboard was negligible compared to the sound of Lucifer’s breathing so close to you. His teeth nipped the shell of your ear and you shied away out of habit. He chuckled softly, licking your skin and humming in approval at your reactions.

You weren’t sure how someone so suave was allowed to exist. He was barely doing anything and you were absolute putty in his hands within an hour of meeting him. He had been completely correct, there was no need to pretend you liked one another. The innate attraction was there, all you needed to do was react to his lead. “Lucifer...” you breathed, testing how it felt to have his name fall from your lips.

The verdict? It felt right.

Lucifer glanced over to where Simeon sat, catching the heated glare that was fixed on him. He couldn’t help but beam in self-satisfaction, knowing that the angel very much wished to be the one in the scene and not him. He turned his attention back to you, eliciting more breathy moans out of you. He said he was going to help with the scene; he never said anything about being mindful of relationship between you and Simeon.

“I like those noises you make. Make some more.” He demanded, slipping his hand under your blouse to finally get a handful of your skin. His touch left a trail of fire across your nerves. It felt like it had been years since you were last this close to anyone; it only made you more receptive of anything he did to you.

Lucifer was meticulous in his ministrations. He made sure to take his time exploring you with his hands and lips before moving onto the next step. It was almost torture how slow he was taking it. By the time he worked the first button off of your blouse, you were ready to rip his shirt off him.

“Kiss...” Simeon said from his seat. His voice curt and short as if he was directing a scene from a movie. “Kiss her before you do anything else.”

Lucifer was quick to comply. He had been hesitant in claiming your lips with his own, but with the approval of Simeon, he lost no time in taking your breath away. With one hand at the back of your head to keep you steady, his lips brushed against your own, seeking tentative permission before he went further. The warmth of his body enveloping you so gently made you melt and accept his kisses eagerly. His tongue traced your lips before delving into your mouth, tasting you for the time.

You moaned, breathing deeply through your nose as he overwhelmed all your senses with just his lips and tongue. While one hand held your head firmly in place for him, his free hand caressed your cheeks, your neck and your collarbone. While he swallowed all the pretty little noises that came from the back of your throat, he continued to work off the buttons of your blouse. Your clutched onto his shirt, unable to break the kiss even if you felt your head spin from lack of oxygen.

By the time all the buttons of your blouse had come undone, you were a breathless, whimpering wreck for him. He pulled away and admired just how swollen your lips had become from all the kisses. “Beautiful.” he praised, making your whole body heat up from the simple compliment. “Think you can help me out of these clothes? It’s gotten pretty warm in here.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice to help him. As much as you wanted to savor the moment and really draw out the intimacy between the two of you; you were also desperate to see what he looked like under that dress shirt. You licked your lips at every inch of skin you exposed, your eyes glittered with glee as you uncovered his chest and abs.

As soon as his shirt was completely open, he went back to exploring your body with his lips. His kisses trailed down your neck, to your chest and right to the outline of your bra. “Ah, silly undergarments… They always get in the way of fun.” In one swift motion, he slid his hands under your bra, freeing your breasts and also divesting you of your top along with it as it went over your head and arms. For a second, you felt distinctly vulnerable under his gaze and moved to cover yourself, but his hands kept your arms at your side.

You squirmed under his touch, your brain completely blank as he lavished you with attention. Lucifer noticed the freshly healed cuts on your skin and made sure to give them extra affection. He did it partially to stay in character, but mostly to spite Simeon who was definitely fixated on the scene he orchestrated. He was getting too much enjoyment out of pulling the most lewd sounds from you all the while the angel watched, unable to participate. The control he had over the both of you was absolutely exhilarating and turned him on more than the kisses and fondling.

Lucifer pushed you to lay on the couch, settling himself between your legs and hovering over you. The opened ends of his shirt tickling your sides briefly before he leaned in and took your nipple into his mouth. His tongue laved at the sensitive skin, coaxing it into a perky little bud before moving onto your other breast and doing the same. By the time he was done with that task, you were sure that the knee he had pressed up against your crotch could feel just how wet you had gotten.

Looking down between the two of you, you were grateful to see he wasn’t completely immune to the scenario. The impressive bulge in his pants at least proved to you he was enjoying this as much as you were. Pulling him into another searing hot kiss, you tugged at his hair, rolling your hips against him. You didn’t care that Simeon was watching, with Lucifer, you could get what he would never give you. “Fuck me.” you whispered, barely believing you were making such a demand.

“With pleasure.”

The rest of your clothes came off in record time. The need for a release was almost unbearable. Just seeing Lucifer’s cock spring out of his boxers made your mouth water. You were more than happy to spread your legs for him, giving him all the access in the world to seat himself in you.

But, it seemed he had a different idea for you. Turning you to face Simeon on the other side of the room, he pulled you up to your knees and slid into you from behind, groaning as your cunt greedily accepted every inch of him with no resistance. “Let’s give him something to write about.” he suggested right before making you see stars with his cock.

Being filled with an actual dick and not a toy was an experience you had missed so much. There was nothing better than the warmth and the feel of a real cock sliding in and out of you. Toys could only simulate so much, nothing could compare to what Lucifer was giving you. “Oh… fuck.” You gasped, leaning against his chest for support.

His hand grabbed your hair, pulling you flush against him as he rammed his whole length into you over and over again. His breathing hitching every time you squeezed around his cock. “Oh yeah, that’s a good girl.” he praised. “Look at how hot and bothered he is.” Lucifer brought your attention to the author across the room. His fingers frozen across the screen as his eyes were glued to the scene you were creating with his friend.

You didn’t want to look, but everything Lucifer said was a command you could not disobey. Glancing over, you were blessed with the image of Simeon, blankly staring at what you were doing. His expression completely unreadable, but his eyes were dark from just how blown out his irises were. His hands that were supposed to be on the keyboard stroked his clothed cock in time with every one of Lucifer’s strokes.

The feeling of shame washed over you as you saw just how pitiful Simeon seemed so distant from the two of you. His heated gaze was fixated on the spot where Lucifer and you were so intimately joined. Lucifer continued on railing into you, his hand wrapped around your waist and teased your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your climax. You couldn’t even think about the guilt you felt in your gut as Simeon was forced to observe you. All you could focus on was just how good Lucifer was with his cock and how close you were to coming undone.

“Think we should let him join us?” Lucifer’s voice was like the devil on your shoulder, voicing all the things you couldn’t say out of embarrassment. “He’s always been bad at saying what he wants.”

You didn’t have time to respond as all the pleasure came to a screeching halt. Just as you felt like you were going to cum, Lucifer pulled out of you, making you whine and whimper in need. “I… what… I...”

The smile he gave you was soft, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. There was a devious glint in them while he waited for you to compose yourself.

“What? Why did you stop? What happened?” Simeon busied himself with sitting up straight again, hunching over his computer as if he hadn’t just been stroking himself to what was in front of him.

“I got bored.” Lucifer stated plainly, getting up and leading you over to the author who was furiously typing away, trying to the capture the scene he just witnessed. “I thought you might like to join in the fun...”

“That… that wasn’t the agreement.”

“I’m bending the rules a little.” Lucifer shrugged and gently pushed you down on your knees in front of Simeon. You crawled under the folding table he set up as a makeshift desk. It was a snug fit, but not entirely too uncomfortable. “I’m sure we can all benefit from a little more fun, right?” He laced his hand into your hair and gently, but firmly pushed you towards Simeon’s bulge.

You didn’t even need any encouragement to start working on freeing Simeon’s cock from the confines of his pants. The man above you couldn’t protest, the need to feel you and the need for release overriding his scruples he had worked so hard to maintain. “I… You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” You said firmly, licking your lips when you got your hands around his length and pulled it out, giving it an experimental pump. With just that simple touch, Simeon hissed and rolled his hips up to meet your hand. “And it looks like you want to, as well.”

“Let’s see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.” Lucifer encouraged from behind you. “If you do a good job, I’ll make sure to finish what I started.”

You were more than eager to wrap your lips around the tip of Simeon’s cock, licking and swirling your tongue around the tip. Your hand pumping the length of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth just yet. Simeon’s moan encouraged you to keep going, taking more of him into you until he hit the back of your throat. Lucifer’s hand in your hair was soon replaced with Simeon’s as he held onto you, setting the pace as your head bobbed up and down his cock.

You moaned into his dick, sending vibrations down his length and making him shiver. His grip in your hair tightened and he pushed your head further down his cock, wanting you to take all of him. With a bit of an initial struggle to suppress your gag reflex, you relaxed enough to take every inch of him with just a little coaxing. Soon enough, your nose brushed against his coarse pubic hairs every time he made a full pass down your throat.

“Amazing...” Lucifer breathed, lining himself behind you to enter you again. Just watching Simeon fuck your mouth had heightened the sexual tension in the room into something palpable. He timed himself to enter you at the same time Simeon was at his deepest down your throat. “Time for your reward.”

Your screams of pleasure were muffled by Simeon’s cock being stuffed into your mouth. Lucifer taking your cunt again made you nearly lose consciousness for a second. Simeon’s grip in your hair became almost painful as the two of them worked in tandem to fuck you senseless.

It felt like there was an unsaid agreement the moment the two of them started to move. As soon as Lucifer pulled out of you until just the tip of his cock remained in your pussy, Simeon would be fully seated down your throat. The moment Simeon’s dick slid out of your mouth just enough to give you a chance to breathe, Lucifer would ram his whole length back into you, making you forget to take a full breath before the cycle continued once again.

It was a dizzying experience and the orgasm that had been abated for the time being built itself back up to be something explosive. The two of them played your body like a toy meant for their pleasure. All your holes were meant to please them; and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Lucifer’s fingers once again found your clit, bringing you right up to the edge within a few passes of his digits across the sensitive nub.

“Cum for me, beautiful...”

His voice was magical, pushing you right across the threshold into your climax. You moaned into Simeon’s cock, causing him to also unload his cum down your throat. Even if it was hard to breathe, the lack of oxygen only seemed to enhance the high you had been brought to. Lucifer only needed to thrust into you a few more times before his own pace stuttered and he came, releasing his hot seed into you and completing the euphoric feeling of climaxing.

Simeon was the first to regain his senses, carefully pulling out his spent cock from your mouth. Even if you did your best to swallow all of him, some of his cum mixed with your saliva and dribbled down the corner of your mouth to your chin. He carefully wiped away what he could with his thumb before pulling you in for a kiss.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… Please forgive me…” He begged in between kisses. He could taste himself on your lips, something he didn’t expect to enjoy as much as he did. With every kiss, the color returned to his world, the grays that permeated his every existence faded the more time he spent with you. Without you, he wasn’t himself anymore; that much he learned.

Ah. So this is what forgiveness feels like...

Lucifer pulled out of you once he softened enough to do so. He was about to say something rather snide, but he also didn’t want to ruin the moment of reconciliation between the two of you. So, he decided to save it for later. He waited patiently for you to reassure him everything was going to be all right before speaking up.

“So, you think you got the scene?”

“Yeah… I think we got it. Do you think we can make the deadline?”

You looked up at him, feeling satisfied and elated in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

#Obey me #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me Lucifer #Simeon x reader #Lucifer x reader #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Smut #Obey me Fanfiction #My writing #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #we're finally getting to the super fun bullshit!#Shall we date obey me

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missksj · 4 years ago

Text

choose your hero!nct127

ﾐ☆ genre: punch inspired!au, video game au!, superhero au!

ﾐ☆ word count: 7k

ﾐ☆ warnings: mentions of greatest fears and nightmares, fighting, death, light smut but nothing too vivid, and sm ceo and dispatch make an appearance ew i know

ﾐ☆ author’s note: ah my first nct 127 headcanon and second creation on this site! yes i know it’s been a long time coming since punch dropped but ever since i saw the music video, this idea popped into my head. i heard of other nctzens talking about this aesthetic when mentioning the mv, but hopefully you like my take on it! please enjoy and look forward to more writing from me in the future! thank you so much! ps this is not proof read yikes sorry

Velvet clouds of psychedelic purple with the scattered rays of sunset hues made an unnatural background for the logo’s electric lettering with lightning strokes cracking the static screen in your stuffy apartment. Outside was a different matter. A thunderstorm jolted the placid crimson sky to a violet that only nature could create, although the graphic designers of PUNCH: NCT 127 came close. It was rather befitting for the stark opposition of the hurricane raging outside to the retro sparking aesthetic that you’ve witnessed for the ninth time, and it was the most pivotal. It was as if the thunder was the applause, the lightning rallying behind you, the pelting of the raindrops reverberating the hammering of your heart. Almost victorious in a way, the non-player hero that lurked in the background of the other eight paths taken would finally be the alternate hero to your player. He was a prize in the reverie that you constructed solely from his brief bio to the artificial mannerisms and quotes that he generated in the story lines which enabled you to project your fantasy on mundane men. The comparison was cruel, fictional characters were even crueler. Nimble fingers and darting eyes fell into a comfortable routine, familiar with the introduction story, it was a race between the controller’s buttons and the spiteful lightning that would sever the power.

[FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY]

[PROPERTY OF THE NCT 127 DIVISION UNDER THE SM AGENCY]

PRIORITY IDENTIFICATION

[NAME]...F/N L/N

[ID #]...07201607

[STATUS]...Active

[CLASS]...Agent

[ALIAS]...Punch

[TEAM AFFILIATION]...N/A

Welcome to the NCT 127 Division, Agent L/N. I am Lee Soo-Man, the Director of the SM Agency and your guide for your latest mission: THE FINAL ROUND. On behalf of the whole SM community, we apologize for the abrupt summoning, but your presence and skills are crucial if we are going to defeat the DISPATCH terrorist. For too long, the person that cowers behind the mask that claims itself DISPATCH has tormented South Korea for too long, and only you can stop them. It cannot be done alone though, if you so choose to take on this responsibility, I will assign one of the nine superheroes of your picking to share this task. Do you accept it?

CLICK [YES] TO CONTINUE

CLICK [NO] TO RESTART

I am pleased that you have accepted the assignment. For the duration of the mission, the NEO ZONE will be the location of the base for you and your partner. Intel, equipment, and training will be at both of your disposals. Now that you have been briefed on all inner workings of the mission and the NEO ZONE, there is one last obstacle until you defeat the enemy. The selection of your partner is based on compatibility and trust, I implore you to consider wisely until you make a final decision. The designated superhero of your liking will be under one of two teams, FUTURE OR DREAMER. Both equally beneficial, but the bonds of loyalty run deep between the members, you have to determine which one of their morals you value more. Heed my warning though, with the right set of skills and talent, you and your partner will be unstoppable but tread lightly your connection with him. After all, you are his only weakness. Which team and hero will you choose?

CLICK [TEAM FUTURE]

CLICK [TEAM DREAMER]

You now have the option to choose your hero.

Before your perplexed mind could comprehend the change of dialogue, a streak of lightning had pierced the stillness of the undisturbed bedroom and released the tempest that was once contained to reality. With the abundance of consuming darkness, shards of glass pricking your paling skin, and tree branches pounding for entry--your white knuckles and twitching eyes fathomed the only connection you had with actuality; a plastic controller and the flickering avatar of your destined hero you chose only seconds before. Your heart had been thumping, not from the anticipation of a new adventure, no, it was pure fear that jolted your numbed muscles to sprint to sanctuary. The thunderstorm mocked your failed attempt at fleeing as another surge of electricity enveloped the room in white and sparks rippled at your ankles as you ran away but the tethering currents from the screen wrenched you back.

SOUL TRANSFUSION NOW COMPLETE_

Team Future

Taeil

Power: Pyrokinesis

A very vocal opponent when he’s on the battlefield, you might be on the other side of the area but you can always figure out where he is located by listening to his strange grunt/growl combos, enemies usually have to process the inhuman sound that came out of a small man but you just roll your eyes and toothy grin grows as you run to him for back up

Says “let’s get it!” any chance he gets, always attempts to make it your team chant before going on a mission but everyone votes no, even you

Loves to wear long sleeves as a staple piece of clothing despite his already burning temperature, he claims it eases him as if it were security blanket, and he enjoys when you tell him he looks adorable with his sleeved paws

During winter though, he always has to stock up on sweaters because you are always stealing them, whether it’s the feeling of his residual heat ghosting over your skin or look of complete adoration glazing over his eyes as he devours that look of yours, it’s a great excuse to wear one

If you had to assign ‘roles’ in the relationship, you would so be a top, he’s the most chill boy out there as you throw tantrums or squeal out of pure joy when you are finally promoted, it’s either purring hums out of his mouth or a silly smile as he gazes at you

Physical affection is minimal between you two unless you initiate it, but it’s mostly wrapping his arm around you, it’s in no way conveying that he doesn’t love you, but rather love to him is experiencing moments with you, making memories while watching a funny movie or dancing horribly to a playlist he created

An exception is when you end up falling asleep on the couch as you two watch a movie, he secretly loves to carry you back to bed as he tucks you in and truly soaks in what you mean to him

His hair gradually transitioned to its current red as his powers grew throughout the years and he would always dye it but his genes overpowered any artificial color, not until you said you liked his hair like that, he decided to keep it

King of making you smile especially when you are down, he can’t stand seeing you sad so he insists on becoming a goofball until your sides hurt from laughing so hard

Takes training way too seriously, you always start off competing but by like the 100th crunch you are wiped but he’s still going

Becomes sulky when his Disney Hades costume doesn’t come out as planned because his fire is red and not blue, but it was the best decision ever when you suggested Ghost Rider for the Halloween party, Taeil never looked better with just a leather jacket covering his bare skin

You finally convinced the clothing department to give you a fireproof uniform because Taeil has really bad aim, and your clothes are rags after a mission

Figured out you had a crush on Zuko when you were younger, so he would rewatch it with you and definitely cosplay Zuko, perhaps even role play with it if it’s something you were into

Having sex with Taeil was searing pain shooting through your thighs, tender love handles, heaving chests and lactic acid seeping through your muscles as he cheered you onto the last lap--it was a workout in itself with a sweltering room that reflected his aroused emotions

Both of you are constantly battling, whether it’s a rap battle or a cooking battle, Taeil is in love with the passionate side of you

Breakfast in bed is a tradition held during the weekends, he says he loves to spoil you but he just loves tasting his own food while you give him compliments on how delicious it is

Taeil is usually saved as a last resort for dangerous group missions, you’ve heard stories of his past battles as if he were legend already, but you’ve only witnessed his true power once by scorching down the enemy in one go, flames clawing his body as the inner glow within him exploded like he was a supernova--someone had to drag you out before the building collapsed on itself from the stifling heat and the roaring fire

You pinch his bouncy cheeks as often as possible just to see him roll his eyes while he fights off the widening smirk that makes his doe eyes curve into crescents, but it’s the blooming crimson of his cheeks that you indulge in, lightly sizzling your fingertips until you can’t take the pain any longer and yelp slips out, but Taeil swiftly swoops in and kisses your fingertips in an apology, it was a good pain though

It’s a normal night for both of you, 2 AM and your blabbering about everything and nothing, and Taeil always ends up the saying the same line to you as he coaxes you to sleep because he knows how grumpy you become in the morning, “I’m grateful we’re together, who would make you a fire if you were stranded on a deserted island? You definitely can’t, so, hmm, I guess it has to be me”

Johnny

Power: Lycanthropy

You’d suspect him to be bear when he morphed with his build and height, but he’s a hulking chestnut brown wolf with gentle eyes

Basically a puppy on steroids always expects a treat and good belly rub after eviscerating all his targets

Has the ability to shift at will, so during winter nights you can find him nestled around you for added warmth

During the colder months, he usually wears knitted sweaters and oversized coats in his human form because it reminds him of his fur, and he claims he likes to keep you warm while he holds you in any form

Creates video tutorials of both of you sparring with each other, lots of constructive criticism and compliments on your ‘form’

Begs you to ride him into a mission just for the sake of it, he can so see you as a badass warrior on their monstrous steed

Johnny’s favorite time of day is during the end when you wind down with him and you tell him every detail of your day despite you two being joined at the hip as partners

Always asks questions out of plain curiosity and simply in love with the sound of your voice, it’s the equivalent of you petting his sweet spot on the back of his ear

Without a doubt, he howls in bed while having sex, he’s always teetering the edge of shifting and even though you repeatedly tell him it’s fine to let go, the splintered wood of the headboard and floating feathers of a slashed pillow is evidence of how much concentration he puts in to keep you safe

Manicures and pedicures on a regular basis in the Suh household got to keep those claws clean

Adamant about not getting a pet dog with you, his excuse is he would get too jealous of another canine but his stance is weakening with your improved puppy dog eyes

Multiple jokes about ‘starting a pack’ with you

While in his wolf form, he can understand human language but he doesn’t have the ability to communicate, so both of you rely on subtle gestures

Naturally has a small smile, always nudges you with his snout, and whenever you make a joke to him, he bears his canines that are frightening to most but to you it’s comforting

Johnny’s greatest fear is if you two are ever in an argument and his anger blinds him to the point of him unconsciously shifting and accidentally harming you

Even clumsier in his wolf form, he doesn’t realize actually how massive he is which makes him a hazard to normal-sized beings

Gets most of his stances and moves from the wolves from the twilight series, he won’t admit but he’s certainly inspired by them

Sexual appetite is at a peak when the full moon comes out, growl central!!

The most treasured item you two have is a portrait of wolf-Johnny on his hind legs, attacking your face with slobbering kisses and you grinning brightly because nothing can compare to the bliss of that snapshot

Taeyong

Power: Superhuman Speed

After every assignment, Taeyong’s personal mission is to dote on you, this usually happens by using a covering or his own jacket and slinging it over your shoulders, if there is grime or blood on it, he lets out soft ‘sorry’ even though you always tell him not to

He knows it’s his job, he understands the need, but that doesn’t mean he is comfortable with the bloody side of it, and so he loves talking to you after incidents, your voice is soothing and it helps him process all the trauma, he says it’s for your sake but you know in these moments you are his crutch and you gladly accept the job

Naturally, a faster walker than you so he always manages to be a few feet ahead of you, but when he sees you fall behind, he holds your hand and tugs lightly while matching your pace

After enhancing his speed, he always has flushed cheeks and a glossy sheen across his forehead, so you make it a habit to kiss his forehead, cheeks, and lips to cool him down

It doesn’t work, his heart his pulsating harder than ever and does that exasperated airy laugh as an attempt to stabilize his heightened emotions while walking away so you don’t witness his even redder face

You give him piggyback rides after missions, his energy is basically depleted by then, so a jacket for a piggyback ride seems like a fair deal even though he fights you the whole way but you know he adores being cared for

You were the one to convince him to dye his hair pink in an effort to have an easier time spotting him during assignments and now he’s pink blur racing off to defeat villains

When he lightly peppers kisses on your face, the smacks get louder until he finally lands on your lips and it’s the most exaggerated sloppy sound he can make while he squeezes your cheeks

Weekdays for him are for cooking dinner, and you occasionally join to help him but mostly it’s him feeding you bits asking if everything is seasoned well and by the end, he is cursing because half the dinner is already gone

Type of boyfriend to remember you mentioning something you like and a few days later, he buys it for you or he randomly buys you things that remind him of you and leaves it for you as a surprise

Always doodling on you or leaving you notes with drawings so he can remind you that he loves you or to hydrate

After stressful missions, he just plops on top of you, his nose inhaling your scent as he forces his heart to match your rhythm, it lasts for about twenty minutes or until he can finally recharge

Taeyong’s gym locker in the NeoZone is plastered with couple photos of you two and photos of you modeling or candid while he directed you with his camera

The only way you can convince him to give you ten more pushups or five more pullups is if you bribe him with kisses and it always works

Very sacrificial, it’s one of his main flaws, he’ll get super flustered and annoyed when he sees you in the line of fire, so he’ll ultimately take all the heat and scold you after to put yourself first

His face usually has a cold blank stare to it as he observes his surroundings but once you collide into him and coil your arm around his, he grows this massive grin that only you can create

Never takes advantage of his speed with you, his surroundings are always in a constant race and he’s always anticipating the next move, but with you, your a serene presence washing over him; calming him, grounding him to capture every moment of you so it isn’t a blur but a vivid mural

Definitely tender and sensual in bed, once tried to spice things up by using his speed but he almost broke you, so now he only changes his pace if you request it

With your head on his chest every night, the last thing you hear before you fall asleep is the rapid thumping of his heart; it’s the only lullaby you’ll ever need

Yuta

Power: Supernatural Swordsmanship

Cut his hair with his kodachi and you most definitely needed to clean up the edges

Villains dread combating with Yuta, not just because he’s insane with a sword but he only talks about you and your relationship while fighting as if the opponent will answer his question of whether he should give you a cookie or ice cream cake for your birthday or even both

Rather than making you feel better when you feel down, he would be your soundboard, a shoulder to cry one, a great pair of ears; patience and multiple ‘mhms’ as you unravel your worries while his fingers swirl on your thigh and he kisses your temple

You two could be on opposite sides of the room but his eyes would always gravitate to you and he would wait until you notice so he could meet your gaze and he would do the dorkiest faces, especially his famous lion rawr aegyo, it makes you realize how good of a father he would be

Goes wild when he sees your body tremble beneath him as the cold metal of the kodachi glides along your skin

The only thing rivaling his love for you is his love for his katana, it’s bond that can never be severed and it’s a trust that only develops between soulmates, you could never understand but you accept and allow it to be the third partner in the relationship

It shouldn’t be possible for Yuta to look like a prince walking out of an otome game right after a battle, but there he is, glistening skin with swept hair and twinkling eyes as he sheathes his katana across his back as if he’s going to ride his horse in the Sengoku period

It’s usual occurrence to catch him absentmindedly talking to his katana, you wouldn’t be surprised if it could talk back, he can summon it by hand already, that sword and he shares one brain cell but he usually uses it as a mirror

You’re a killer couple, not only with looks and fashion but it’s quite a sight to experience as you shoot a bullet to his katana so it can ricochet at a target eighty feet away

Manages a rigorous training session before you wake up and when he’s done, he ends up collapsing on top with his sticky body as you screech at him to get off

The training facility in the NeoZone is rarely used because Yuta is a big believer in fresh air and beautiful scenery will motivate you more, so your sparring on the edge of cliffs and sprinting along the seaside

Alternates between reading books with you outside in your backyard with a makeshift picnic or both of you cuddled in bed with the open windows and the only source of light is the sun

If you have missions abroad, he convinces the agency to always give both of you one day free so you can act like tourists, nobody can say no to his dashing good looks and he knows it

One year for Christmas, you got him custom made tiny katana earrings and it’s literally the one pair he uses now, at least on his lobe

Yuta isn’t the overbearing type when it comes to jealousy, he shouldn’t have a say in what gender your friends are but when he sees a certain person obviously flirting with you it just takes slight glint of his katana to blind the intruder and they are already scurrying off

Gets a kick out of playing real-life fruit ninja

Decided to shave a slit in his eyebrow with his katana one spontaneous night, he got out of the bathroom with a huge grin and asked, “does this make me look more badass?”

Your hands always end up somewhere around his stomach, gliding across the lean muscles, squeezing around his hips, twiddling his piercing, you name it, you can’t keep your hands off him

Nakamoto Yuta is a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, the pang of fear thrills you as you witness his lack of mercy and fiery anger at injustice as he slaughters anyone that stands before him, but that wicked glint in his eye softens just for you and then you see the scrawling of your name engraved on the hilt of the katana, and you know you are the only one that knows the true Yuta and you feel so blessed

Doyoung

Power: Precognition

You beg him every possible waking minute for him to allow you to do his makeup if only to contour his insanely sharp cheekbones, he finally relents but he has a scowl on his face the whole time

You’ve become quite a baker with Doyoung but he always has to guide you so his arms snake around your waist as an excuse yet he acts completely innocent when he knows it makes you distracted

Playlist for every occasion, especially when he’s having sex with you, the house ends up feeling hollow whenever he’s away without his angelic voice but to your surprise, Doyoung leaves you secret audio files lulling you in a trance

His mouth becomes a cherished part for you, especially the way the corners of his lips curl up naturally, the small smirk instantly widening when in front of food, or the blinding white teeth as he’s gritting them when approaching an orgasm or laughing at you, not with you

It takes about five minutes for Doyoung to arrange his plushies in the right position so you both don’t ruin them as you cuddle

One arm draped over a plush and the other wrapped around your back, or him in a fetal position with his plush embraced into his chest as you act as the big spoon

Hand holding is strictly for the bedroom with him, but he knows you admire his hands often, so he’ll have him some type of connection with you when out in public; whether it’s his pinkies wrapped around yours, curved into the loop of your pants, or his delicate veiny hand wrapping around your sleeve

End up catching him more than once, gushing over the phone with his brother about how in love he is with you and you may not lurk in the background for a few minutes until you interrupt the conversation by saying hi to Donghyun

Downtime for you two is building a puzzle, coloring some pages, playing board games and him smug with his victory, watching some documentaries or kdramas, and if you two bought some new furniture for your renovating house, he would most definitely want to do it by himself as you laugh while handing him pieces

Manages to still be shy when you both kiss, it’s you who initiates the subtle peck on his pouting lips, but soon the soft curve of his lips invites you more while your hands cup his warming cheeks--he’s a contradiction of being timid but with all the confidence as he nibbles your lips as if you were a delicacy

Training for you two equals nap time, his power allows him to rely on his mind rather than his body, so when you ultimately force yourself to exercise, Doyoung is laying on the couch, lazily cheering you on

Always giving you little compliments in your earpiece as he guides you around for a recon mission, and still holds his breath when he tells you about the unforeseen event that you need to be prepared for even though he knows you can handle it with ease

Studies multitudes of intel before a mission because he can never be too prepared, and it eases his nerves knowing that he can take every precaution in ensuring your safety

Would dedicate a photo album of himself on your phone, and even send you his recent selfies, telling you to choose one of them as an updated contact photo

You clown him 24/7 but he clowns you right back, it’s always a constant playful banter between you two, his eyebrows would furrow when you called him cute, the trembling of lips broke his facade, and when he does it to you, you essentially become his baby as he bites your cheeks but tell no one or he would deny it

From the moment you two wake up until you both arrive at headquarters, he has sullen look across his features, he would brush his lips across your temple and a hoarse good morning would escape his mouth in a notion to acknowledge you, but until he gets coffee in his system his energy hasn’t been restored yet, but your use to it as you tug him to the break room with his lidded eyes

Alone time is a must for you two, it could be both of you in the same room doing your own thing without communication or different parts of the house or mostly you would leave to run errands and Doyoung stuck in his room, but at the end of the day he crawls to you and says a small ‘hey’ as if his day just started from the moment he set eyes on you

Doyoung was always on alert, aware of incoming predictions that he had no say in but easily accepted, it’s a strain on his mental being, a reason why he needs to center himself by being alone, but then you come

Your blank, just like him, you’re unpredictable and foreign to him, but it’s not until you two kiss for the first time, that a hazy premonition reveals itself in a form of two children that share your hair but his feline eyes, it’s fragile though and uncharted, he knows that he needs to do right by you to get to the last level that seemed like paradise to him

Team Dreamer

Jaehyun

Power/Being: Android

During his exoskeleton stage, Jaehyun requested that the scientists create dimples during his living tissue transplant because he heard “they’re to die for”

Definitely thought it was a weapon utilized to kill his enemies

You make a habit to poke at his dimples until you feel the exoskeleton underneath, an oddly comforting sensation that makes you realize that Jaehyun doesn’t have a heart but his actions say otherwise

Literally the personification of steam coming out of ears in cartoons with scalding red tips, this only happens when you’re in danger or when he sees you in what he perceives as provocative

It took five hours to draw an array of tattoos on him for a disguise on a reconnaissance mission, and a certain neck tattoo was going to make you abandon the mission and your sanity

Sadly, he had to erase them because the “the bad boy” persona was an official disguise in his hardware and couldn’t be revealed to the public

Jaehyun kept one design, however, a soft beauty mark on the apple of his left cheek, he claims it’s your signature as his owner but you like the word partner better

Programs all your training sessions and signature moves to his hard drive because he believes there is no better instructor than you (except Bruce Lee)

The first time you helped him clean his internal munition unit, you couldn’t decipher any of the weapons so you gave them your own personal nicknames, he kept correcting you but he got tired so he now calls them “wholly fist” and “boom boom pow by the BEP”

You joke around with him that because he was created on valentine’s day, he should be credited as a sexbot but he always frowned at that comment until he figured out he could turn the tables on you by saying “I could be your sexbot”

Whenever he sees another person eyeing you in what he perceives is attraction, he activates his instant kill function with laser red eyes and declaring “target locked”

Suave and intimidating when you two first meet but truly transformed into a ‘soft boy’ after downloading your Pinterest board

Whenever both of you are out in public, eyes ogle him and mouths gawk, but Jaehyun is oblivious to it all until he turns to someone and starts up the most wholesome conversation about something mundane and you know that person melts with ease because Jaehyun was built to reflect human nature, but he was doing better than most in your opinion

Lots of arcade dates with him, he quickly figured out the algorithm of each game just so he can overflow you with gifts and so he can show off his basketballs skills because he knows you love eyeing his arms in action

When he’s with you though, he’d rather listen and absorb every action and word that you produce, he wants to immerse himself in you because he truly believes that you are all that is good about humankind

Archives every single detail that you speak, and replays it for you when you forget something or to prove you wrong, there is no in-between

Robot sex!!!! That drilling option though...oof

The moment he realizes the blaring internal alarm warning him of his elevated temperature and the shorted circuits whenever you are near, he correlates it to what humans label “love” so he downloads files on expressing these so-called feelings

Instead of saying “I love you”, he says “I dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin you” when he first confesses, and you assume there is a chemical imbalance within him so you rush him to the infirmary but for the first time, Jaehyun stalls and his eyes are clouded with retrieved information glowing neon green until he settles on “I love...I love...I love you” (yes, he stole it from Mr. Darcy, so sue him, he’s a fracking android)

Jaehyun sometimes doubts his ability to love you and even you sometimes question if you can love a piece of metal, but then you observe him before he joins you in bed that he triples check his instant kill function is disabled and he gushes about the new song he discovered and you are so sure that he was made for you

Jungwoo

Power: Lightning Bolt Projection

Gets easily flustered with the most pouty lip ever when you call him ‘Zeus’, it was his failed superhero name when he was trainee, but to you, he is much better than that jerk of a Greek god

Dressed up as the actual Zeus once for the office Halloween party and the year after that as a lightning bolt and you a storm cloud

Whenever Jungwoo craves attention but you’re occupied with another task, he repeatedly zaps you, not enough to harm, but until you cave in yet when you want to be annoyed with him, his owlish eyes and trembling lips easily subdue you

Your shoulder is a sacred space for him, it's the perfect fit for his head to settle in with a toothy grin and the warmest ‘mhms’ as he listens to you speak

Jungwoo was never much of a fighter, his powers were swift enough to eradicate enemies with not much mobility, but training sessions with you were more than enough of an excuse to spend time with you

Lately, your skin has been electrifying, not only the amorous glow you were emitting, but everyone you came in contact with felt a slight spark

Hair treatments are a must, the frizz is wild with Jungwoo, you really need to ask about his hair products because his hair so fluffy despite the amplitude of currents running through him

While brushing your teeth with him, he always shoots out finger hearts to you and winks through the mirror, it’s a great way to start the day

Never felt more grateful for his power until you were attacked on an assignment and your heart failed, it took four shocks to revive you with streams of tears and muttering to any God to hear his prayer

He’s most himself in the rain, umbrellas have never been on your shopping list

Definitely shoots bolts out of his finger guns and then blows on them afterward, if he’s feeling flirty, an added wink explodes your heart

Your biggest cheerleader when you are kicking ass during a mission

It’s a tradition for him to rake his fingers over your back with slight ripples of electricity while you cuddle in bed, it does wonders to relax your muscles

It’s been months of practice to improve his bolt voltage and range, but he finally managed to write ‘I love you y/n” in the sky, he couldn’t help it, he’s bursting at the seams with adoration for you

Both of you in the kitchen is a sight to see, you season but he cooks the food, his specialty is slightly charred chicken

Packs both of your lunches so you can eat together on break

Gets scared easily and as a result will discharge a lightning bolt as a defense, so pranks are off-limits between the team members

Literal sparks when you kiss, numbing and exhilarating as currents pass through your molding bodies to create goosebumps and raising hairs

When he thinks of home, his first instinct is to be cradled in your arms, watching trashy movies as a thunderstorm quakes the earth

Mark

Power: Compulsion

Mark might excel in whispering but when you turn the tables on him, with your sultry murmurs, he can’t help becoming a puddle of blushing mush

Never once used actual compulsion on you, the only exception is when you figured out the surprise birthday party he was planning for you, he redirected your attention to grocery shopping

His favorite part of you is your right ear because it’s where you naturally tuck your hair at and he just loves to twirl a strand of it in his finger while he mutters sweet nothings to you

You’re his bodyguard during missions, he can’t possibly get that close to targets while they attack if you aren’t watching his back

Even when he is supposed to be acting intimidating during an assignment, he can’t help but stutter and repeat ‘uh’ a thousand times, but he gets the job done eventually

Your literally breaking sweat, contorting your body so four targets don’t reach Mark, and he’s over there oversharing with another target

“The love of my life is about to kick your ass and you aren’t going to do a single thing about it, booby head” or “make the password ‘mark and y/n forever’ or else”

Naturally whispers in his sleep with his stinky breath in your ear, and you try to push him off but he just clings onto you like a koala

In the morning though, the slight breakage in his voice from pitched to croaky as he says good morning to you is on repeat in your head for the whole day

Mark’s give away when he is about to use compulsion is him licking his thin lips, and almost makes you get knocked out by the enemy because your already under his spell

Does a tiny dance for any occasion, from doing the laundry, stripping naked, or when you two had your first kiss

It’s the strained grunts, the heavy breathing, and the showering of hushed compliments in your ears that makes you reach your peak in bed, Mark always sounded better when he was being pleasured

To him, your voice is the loveliest sound across the universe and your adorably awkward cackle that you so desperately try to hide as he reenacts vines to you is what happiness is to him

Ice cream dates consist of him bringing a tub of ice cream to a yogurt shop because he knows you prefer it

Coughed over his first fart with you but now he loves to fart on you as you pretend you are suffocating and gagging

Has a folder in his photos dedicated to you where it ranges from blurry to candids and in during most of them he was either hyping you up or teasing you

Greets you with a ‘yo!’ whenever he enters the room

Will always buy you any lip product associated with watermelon and you’ll always buy him baseball caps for him to wear

Despite being loud for 90% of your relationship, he is most vulnerable with when he whispers his greatest fears, future goals, and nightmares to you because your the only one he can trust

With the many decibels that Mark Lee varies in, your favorite by far has to be the ascending chortle from the low HAs to the high HEEs with clapping hands and a scrunched nose that puffs out his cheeks-- it’s pure bliss to you

Haechan

Power: Light Manipulation

Haechan is utterly in love with your cheeks, instead of biting them or pinching them, he opts to kiss them whenever he has a chance, it’s rushing heat of your blush and the swelling of your smile that he lives for

The little spoon in bed, just so he can wrap his leg around you and nestle his head in the crook of your neck just like a koala

Literally always a brat to you, it’s the many ways he shows you affections

You asked him once to paint your nails, and now he does it every Friday ever since he discovered the ‘my hands look like this so hers can look like this’ meme even though his hands just have bitten nails

A man of action, Haechan shows you love through his movements with a heart framed by his fingers or blowing a kiss

Needs to always be physically attached to you, whether it’s hugging you from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder, or falling into you when he’s in a fit of giggles, he needs you to know that he will never let you go

Snarky remarks and cheesy jokes define your relationship with Haechan

Manages to always wake up before you on those lazy mornings with you burrowed deep into his side, and he can’t help but be memorized by your presence but soon feels selfish when he moves a ray of sunlight to your eyes so he can just peek at the explosion of colors in your eyes when you flutter them open--ah yes, this is his favorite part of the day

Loves to play video games with you into the late hours of the night, especially overwatch, but your always the first one to pass out, so he makes sure to tuck you in and dim the light of the screen so it doesn’t bother you

Most nights the both of you are wide awake so you end up playing ‘what the light?’, a game where Haechan creates 3D objects out of light and you have to guess what they are before he finishes them

Oh, and shadow puppets! He’s become quite the expert with them, he creates the most ridiculous stories with them but you join him by voicing the characters

In addition to ‘I love you’ as a goodbye, you have a secret intricate handshake with him, his excuse was that if you two ever question’s one identity if ever an enemy swapped bodies, you two would know the truth with the handshake but in reality, he just loves that extra time with you before you two part

It’s either Haechan teasing and making fun of you or he’s doting on you, there is no in-between because after all, you are his idiot

If he’s in the mood, he’ll solidify light photons into the shape of a sword and call it ‘sunflower’, he just loves to tell the tale that he took out fifteen assassins with a sunflower, but usually, he blinds them or burns them

Goes the extra mile for you to create a spotlight on you when you are giving a mission brief at headquarters, that’s the love of his life right there and he’ll make damn sure everyone notices them

Recreates Edward’s sparkling in the sun scene just so he can see you beam with laughter

Master of mood lighting during sex, and don’t even mention when he hits his climax, bulbs flickers and lamps explode

It might be a trick of the light, but Haechan’s eyes are vividly bright and he’s drowned in golden hues of sunlight, it makes you wonder if he was plucked from the star itself

Yet, as your lips quiver and your glassy eyes blink the last remnants of tears in Haechan’s cupped hands, there is an inner glow from them as you bask in their warmth, he can’t help but proclaim that you are the sun of his world, you are the light of his life even when it feels like his is diminishing

#NCT 127 #NCT #nct 127 punch #nct 127 au #nct 127 x reader #what did i even write #im choosing either jaehyun or yuta #taeil x reader #taeyong x reader #mark lee x reader #johnny suh x reader #kim jungwoo x reader #jaehyun x reader #haechan x reader #doyoung x reader #yuta x reader #nct scenarios

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