#that actually stayed together/ended well?

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

stay for a fortnight

a/n: as promised, here is part three of the bodyguard!bucky story ৎ୭

summary: “yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, staying for two weeks at a chateau in the south of france, forced proximity, bucky is a shameless hoe and we love him for it, kissing, love confession, shower sex, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, gaping, handjob, fingering, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 3870

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“I’m sorry, darling. I tried to get out of it, I really did, even for just one day, but I can’t join you at the chateau this time.” 

“It’s alright, mom,” you exhaled, “I understand.”

Soothingly rubbing her palm down the length of your arm, she suggested, “well, since it won’t be as crowded down there, why don’t you stay a little longer? Maybe a proper break might cheer you up. Maybe one extra week?”

“Actually, two weeks of alone time is just what I need right now,” a faint smile managed to emerge on your lips, “thank you.”

“Great! You go and pack your things, I’ll let Barnes know to do the same,” she announced, and squashed the brief relief you felt just as soon as it had washed over you. 

It felt like ages that Bucky made you sit and wait in the car while he went around the estate to do his initial sweep, making sure it was safe and secure before you got to enter. 

The tenseness that still floated ethereally in the air between you didn’t fade away when he finally came back to crack open the door for you to exit the vehicle. 

“So,” you exhaled once the two of you had crossed the threshold of the chateau, “my room is the one upstairs and at the end of the hallway, yours is wherever the fuck you want, there are like a million bedrooms in this place.”

Your footsteps echoed against the elegantly tiled floors as you twisted to check that he even heard you. He had, seeing as his gaze was still ever glued upon you, though he didn’t offer you a reply. 

Shifting the large bag that hung from your shoulder, the luggage that you stubbornly hadn’t let him carry, you paused just before your stride began to ascend the grand staircase in the middle of the foyer.

“Also, I think we should come up with some ground rules.” 

Your bodyguard’s dark eyebrows then crinkled as he half scoffed, “ground rules?”

“Yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.”

Exhaling slowly, he simply stated, “whatever you say.”

Before you then began to drift up the wide steps, you cast a glance over your shoulder and said, “meet me in the kitchen in ten.”

“Alright,” you breathed, leaning against the cold marble of the kitchen island as you stared down at the small list you’d scribbled down on a stray post-it you had found in the bottom of your bag, slightly crumbled and with a doodle on the other side, “first rule I’d like to instate is an obvious one, but still needs to be set and stone in order for us to be here together. We can’t sleep together.”

When you heard a low sigh seep from Bucky’s lips, your eyes snapped up to glare at him. 

“Hey! Take this fucking seriously, okay?”

“I am,” he assured you, though his tone indicated the complete opposite of his words. 

“So, rule number two is in prolonging of the first one, which is that we can’t do anything that’ll make us want to sleep with each other,” you cast your glance back down to your messy handwriting, “two A, no swimming in the pool, two B, no nudity, two C, definitely no drinking, and two D, no staring at me,” your eyes flickered back up to catch his blue ones, “especially not like that,” you swiftly gestured to the way he gazed at you.

“Like what?” he didn’t change the manner he looked at you. 

“Like you’ve seen me naked!” 

Your shriek unfortunately only won you the glimpse of a smug smirk upon Bucky’s lips, one you swiftly tried to ignore. 

“Okay,” you blinked in an effort to redirect your attention back to the task at hand and not the butterflies that now soared in your stomach and made you slightly dizzy, “rule number three is technically also under the subsection of number two, but we can’t eat our meals together. No candle-lit dinners, not even a snack.”

Budding in, the man on the other side of the kitchen counter then said, “can I say something?”

With a soft sigh, you mustered the courage to look up at him, “shoot.”

“Do you wanna decide what I wear as well while you're at it? Maybe also when I’m allowed to breathe?”

His jest didn’t as much as conjure a twitch at the corners of your lips as your gaze simply narrowed in his direction, “are you mocking me?”

Boldly leaning his forearms down against the tabletop, he stared back at you, “so what if I am?” though when you assumed he was kidding and you let out a groan, you heard him go on, “all I’m saying is that maybe we don’t set a list of hard rules just to avoid each other. We seem to do just fine when we toss them all out the window.”

“I'm sorry, wait, what?” you blinked. 

“We’ve got two weeks here, so why don’t we make them count?” he shrugged. 

Mouth agape, you dumbfoundedly stared back at him, “you’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” calmly, his head tilted slightly as he held your stunned gaze, “just think about it.”

The sun only barely managed to set before you felt yourself crack and give in to your bodyguard’s offer. 

Storming into his room, his dark brows only got the chance to rise slightly in astonishment before you nearly tackled him to the ground, throwing your arms around his bulky frame and crashing your lips against his before any of you could say even a single word. 

You didn’t try to hide the raw emotions that came pouring out, causing your efforts to be rough and desperate, though it didn’t take long before Bucky’s touch mirrored the feral nature of your own, leaving you dizzy as you eventually withdrew from the starved kiss, clutching onto his shirt for support as you breathlessly ordered. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Keeping your eyes closed, you tilted your head back to let the drizzle of water rinse out the shampoo from your locks. 

The door to the bathroom was wide open, so when you twisted your form to face the showerhead, you didn’t notice as your faithful protector stopped in his slow tracks right on the other side of the threshold. His eyes trailed down your glistening spine till the sight of you caused him to crumble completely and take advantage of the gift that had just fallen into his lap.  

A low purr vibrated within your chest as the warm water rained down upon you, though suddenly, it wasn’t just the hot shower embracing your form, as a pair of burly arms snaked their way around you. Leaning back into his bulky frame, you caught sight of a crumbled bundle of his clothes tossed on the other side of the fogged-up shower door. A blissful hum crackled within you like a roiling fire as you felt his lips begin to plant soft pecks along the line of your shoulders. 

Though as his touch began to bloom and wander boldly down your frame, a gentle hiss tore through your lazy smile as his fingers came into contact and brushed over your core. 

Nipping at your neck, he murmured, “oh, do you want me to stop?” not removing his metal hand, though halted the pattern he had begun to draw over your petals. 

He already knew full well just how sore and swollen you still were. It would have been impossible not to be after the vigorous activities you’d kept the past week busy with.  

Digging your digits into his forearms to keep you in his embrace, you shot back hazily over your shoulder, “don’t you dare,” before a whimper rippled out of you as Bucky once again rolled your puffy pearl beneath his steely touch. 

“How is it that we’ve already done this for a whole week, yet it only feels like a day?” his voice tickled the shell of your ear as you leaned more of your weight back into him. 

“Really? Because I don’t believe you’d be able to fuck me in a day as many times as you have this past week,” you jested through a whimper, “even for a guy with your stamina.” 

“It’s a good thing it’s just the two of us here… imagine if we hadn’t been alone, if it hadn’t been me walking by and seeing you seduce me like the wicked temptress that you are?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort,” you chuckled airily. 

“Really?” he teased just as his touch did, “leaving the door open, that wasn’t on purpose?” 

“No, I swear,” you then tilted your head and admitted, “at least not this time…”

“You mean the time back a month ago when didn’t close the door while taking a bath,” he murmured casually, “then called out to me, asking if I could fetch you a towel, and I had to pretend not to hear you?”

Spinning around at once, your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline as you blinked, “you knew?” 

“Baby, you never had to play that hard just to torture me,” he smiled down at you, “that move was downright cruel,” before he reached for the knob and switched off the water.

A squeal bubbled out of you as Bucky then suddenly plucked you up into his arms, wasting no time before he stepped out of the shower, only pausing for a beat in the comparatively more spacious area, though only in order to manhandle you further and toss you over his shoulder before his feet began to shift once more, leaving wet prints in their wake on the cool tile as he strode towards the exit. 

Strung over his shoulder as if you were a wet piece of laundry and he was the line, you giggled, “wait!” and just managed to catch one of the fluffy towels hanging on the hook he passed. Blinking down at the floor as he crossed the threshold, you watched as droplets of water dribbled down from you both and left a trail on the herringbone flooring, “you’re dripping, you’re gonna get the whole house wet!”

Landing his wide palm in a wet smack across your ass, he chuckled, “I thought that was my line, sweetheart,” teasing about the manner your pussy drooled for him, already leaking down your thighs at this point. 

Soon, the long hallway disappeared from your periphery as Bucky entered the nearest of the many bedrooms, though you barely had time to register your new surroundings before the world fell out from under you and he plopped you down on the bed in the middle of the room. 

Standing his ground and looming above the giggle that was your horizontal form, he stole the towel from your grasp before dragging the terrycloth across your skin. As he dried off the droplets of water that clung to your body, a handful of pecks adorned your flesh as well, often shadowing the cloth. 

Gazing up at him with smile-crinkled eyes, you stretched your feet up in the air, against his torso, and rested them against his wide shoulders as he briefly paused to dry himself off as well. But as he returned to sweep the towel across the last remaining spot upon your body that still glistened from the shower, the peck he pressed to the valley between your boobs was swiftly halted as your grasp found his jaw and you guided his face up towards your own. 

As you brought his lips to your own, you swiftly felt the mattress dent and ripple as he crawled up to hover above you. 

“Ahh, fuck…” he then groaned against your lips as your hand snaked down between your bodies and began to stroke his throbbing girth. 

Tossing the towel to the side, a gasp soon tumbled out past your lips as Bucky’s palms found your tits in a gentle squeeze. Your pebbly nipples stood up to the challenge as he swept a knuckle teasingly across one of them before capturing it in a pinch and tugging slightly to summon a sinful sound deep within your body. 

As your fist slowly twisted up and down his hard length, his close proximity caused your own knuckles to brush across your clit at every heated pass. Almost unconsciously, you tilted your hips slightly and nudged the bulbous tip of him through your glistening petals, the pleasure of which caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

But just before he could take the initiative and catch your fleeting invitation to let him inside, you caught him off guard and suddenly rolled him onto his back with your frame plastered atop of him. 

Propping yourself up slightly, you grasped his fat girth before slowly sinking down upon it, “o-oh my god,” couldn’t help but breathlessly tumble out of your lungs as a flat palm came down to brace on his broad chest and your thighs gently quivered at the sudden stretch of him. It was a few times that you had to pause on your slow journey down just in order to catch your breath, as his intimidating size caused you to question yet again how you’d ever been able to take it before. 

“Atta girl,” his grip dug into your hips when you slowly began to move, “just like that…” though you still couldn’t persuade your pelvis to sink all the way down to meet his own. 

As you found a gentle roll, one of Bucky’s palms scooped up past your waist and caught one of your tits. Your back arched slightly as he played with your boobs, his hand travelling back and forth as you rode him, though a shuttering moan rippled through your body as he landed a gentle tap down upon one of them, a shiver swiftly trickling down your spine at the spark.

But just as you thought the bodyguard beneath you was blissfully enjoying the show and letting you do all the work yourself, his hips then abruptly offered you a greedy buck.  

“Bucky!” you nearly screamed as he buried the last few inches that you had so fiercely struggled to conquer on your own, “that’s–, I–, holy fuck!” 

You hadn’t been able to take all of him on your own, so he just gave you the little nudge that you needed, even if that nudge thoroughly punched all of the oxygen out of your lungs, he still made you take every staggering inch.

“Come on, don’t stop now,” a chuckle escaped him at your reaction before his palm came down upon your ass to get you back to work, “make yourself cum on this cock.” 

Shakily, you tried to pick up your rhythm once more, dropping your hips to meet his, though he couldn’t remain still for long before he began to fuck up into your warmth. Heavy taps echoed throughout the room as his balls slapped against your slick skin at his efforts. As he met your movements halfway and drove his cock much deeper than you could muster on your own, your left hand drifted down to strum your buzzing clit. 

Already dangerously close to the edge, your hazy gaze flickered down to watch not only how your pussy magically swallowed his big dick, but your eyes also caught sight of the dull bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, making your brain feel even more fuzzy than before. As your glance flickered back to try and catch his, you found his own stare to still be fiercely locked on the same spot where yours had just strayed from, watching intently at just how deep he went, nearly rearranging your guts just to mould you perfectly to fit his shape. 

When you finally reached your peak, your cunt nearly choked his cock as your silky walls clambered down on him, a small accompaniment of sinful gush squirted around him and drizzled to soak the sheets below. 

While you were still foggy with your eyes barely open, Bucky rolled you both over, his dick still throbbing deep within you. Welcoming the softness of the bed beneath you with a gentle sigh, he then captured your lips in a kiss and swallowed the whimpers that promptly bubbled up as he began to fuck you once more, offering you long, deep strokes that sank you so far into the mattress that you began to wonder if you might rock through it completely.  

“O-oh, so fucking d-deep,” you blubbered. A rhythmic cry forced its way out of your lungs each and every time the tip of him kissed your cervix, nearly bullying the deepest parts of you in a manner that made you feel like the wobbliest of jellies. 

“You scared I’m gonna break you, baby?” his soft lips ghosted against your cheekbone. 

“I–, maybe,” you admitted, blinking up at the way his frame eclipsed your vision, “but it feels so good, I don’t care if you do,” though your confession ended up not only exclusively being about the purely physical entanglement you currently found yourselves in. 

A deep growl rumbled in his chest as his hands scooped down beneath your bottom, before he let himself manhandle you, repeatedly dragging your hips up to grant him a better angle for him to fuck into. A bit of drool trickled out the corner of your mouth and found the pillow below your head when his cock soon throbbed within you, pumping you full of his hot load. 

When he pulled back out of your warmth, your pussy didn’t get to stay empty for long as his cool metal fingers swiftly took his dick’s place. Plugging you full, his frame shifted slightly to grant him a good view of the leaky mess he’d made of you. As he pushed his cum deeper inside of you, scooping it back in as his fingers forced it out, he increasingly added more and more digits till the amount matched the girth that had just split you apart, before he withdrew them all at once and grinned proudly at the way he made your hole gape slightly for him, before winking back to a closed as if he’d never even tickled you before. 

It didn’t take long with all of his molten motions before your pussy wept for him once more, a display he only drew out as his fingers stayed hooked inside of you while his other palm came down to offer your puffy pearl a few taps. 

A hazy giggle was bubbling out of your shaky frame as his attentive touch finally faded and his kisses fluttered back up your body till your arms wrapped around him and drew him in close. 

As you layed there in the plush bed and stared up at the ceiling, you didn’t know yet that the man sprawled out beside you was awake as well. 

You just couldn’t find rest no matter how hard you tried, for how could you as tonight was your last night in the chateau. 

Carefully, you slipped out from under the covers, grabbed your long robe from the armchair it was draped over, and tip-toed towards the wide French doors that lead out onto a balcony. Pushing the doors open, a mild gust of wind rustled the robe as you fastened the tie around your waist and crossed over the threshold. 

Though you knew that you didn’t have any other choice, the thought of returning home in the morning still broke your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was burst that dreamlike bubble that you and your bodyguard had built together and go back to a world completely desaturated of colour. 

Not only had you made the grave mistake of repeating history, but putting it under such an intense microscope didn’t help matters either, as well as your feelings, those having become terrifyingly clear over the past two weeks. 

“Hey,” you suddenly heard the doors behind you creak and you tore your hazy gaze away from the dark gardens below to spot Bucky gently leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hi,” you breathed, keeping a flat palm on the ivy-covered stone railing as you twisted your frame slightly to glance at him, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake,” he shrugged slightly before joining you outside in the pale moonlight, “you okay?”

“Yeah…” you sighed, casting your gaze back upon the woods blooming in the distance. 

“…well, that didn’t sound very convincing,” he chuckled gently as he settled in beside you, leaning both his forearms against the half-wall, “do you wanna talk about it?”

Sucking in a breath, your eyes flickered over to catch his own, “I just–…” you hesitantly began before admitting, “I don’t wanna go back to Paris…” 

“Why not?” though a crinkle found his brow, his expression still softened, “is there something going on with you and your mother?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you shook your head, “I just don’t wanna go home yet…” staring at him a moment longer, you then heard yourself confess, “…I–… I don’t want this to end yet…”

Watching closely as his lungs expanded with oxygen, for the first time you witnessed the gruff man look utterly and completely stunned, simply staring down at you with bated breath. 

Parting your lips once more, you nearly whispered, “…I don’t wanna go back to pretending that I’m not in love with you…” 

Bucky didn’t say a word, only continued to stare as he tried to comprehend the truth you’d just professed.

“I love you,” you gathered up the nerve to spit out, “I love you now… I loved you this morning… I loved you after you’d probably only worked at the embassy for a few weeks…” your vision became blurred as tears began to form in your eyes and you continued to babble, “and I don’t think those feelings are planning on changing anytime soon, so it only seemed fair for you to be aware of that for when I ask you in two seconds if you wanna keep this thing between us going, because I do, though probably for different reasons than you–, not that I don’t enjoy that part, you are an incredible lay, I just didn’t think it would be fair for you to be unaware of the feelings I've developed for you, because I don’t know how to ignore them anymore, and–, oh my god, please just say something, I feel like I arrived naked at school or something–”

But before you could ramble any further, Bucky seized your face and fiercely pressed his lips to your own. A shiver ran down your spine and nearly caused your knees to buckle as he kissed you, and when he withdrew, slowly pulling back, he found your stary gaze and uttered, “…I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” he then sucked in a breath before confessing, “because I–… Y/n, I love you too…” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sleepy-steve]

pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡

—

november 1984

Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.

Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”

“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”

Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”

They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”

Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.

“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”

Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”

Steve snorts. “He is.”

“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”

Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”

A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”

Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.

“How many times have you died, Harrington?”

“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”

He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”

Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”

“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”

“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.

“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.

“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”

The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.

“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.

“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.

“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.

Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.

“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”

“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.

Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.” 

Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.

“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”

The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”

It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”

Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.

“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.

“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.

Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.

“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.

“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”

“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.

But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”

Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.

“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.” 

He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?

Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.

Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.

Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”

“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.

“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”

“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”

“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.

“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.

Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.

[arcane-ish]

I have to admit, while of course Big Guy Go Brrrrr is always sexy, I've always headcanoned it a bit differently.

I tend to imagine Silco as somebody who is bit cynical about macho people showing off (deliberately non-gendering it as Arcane has buff ladies as well). Like either he is used to guys trying to impress him that way or he has seen the dynamic when people try to impress some other hottie. Not to mention, if Vander works there, it is borderline his job to protect patrons from being hassled. Don't get me wrong, I think it would be an excellent setup for Silco to have a reason to take Vander back for a hot one night stand with some political pillow talk if he finds him hot anyway, just not maybe as the reason to deeply fall in love with him.

And that would make Vander stick out of him was if Vander was actually showing off genuine kindness and/or politics.

In my brain I see more:

drowned!rat!Silco being huddled up somewhere against a wall and Vander bends over and offers him a piece of bread, a coat or a cuddle.

scrawny!Silco getting pushed around by the other miners and then Vander comes by, just gets involved unasked, kicks their asses and yells at them they should be sticking together against the jackasses above, not take it out on each other. And Silco is like "omg, he totally gets it"

Or Silco is doing some political thing and Vander is the only one who shows up. Or it goes poorly and then Vander shows up and it goes much better.* Like maybe he's trying to get people to sign up or donate resources for the cause and people laugh him off and suddenly Vander shows up and suddenly everybody is scared and goes along (maybe setting the ground work for the protection money collecting that we know both Vander and Silco ended up doing when they were in charge). Or Silco does like regular political meetings where people meet at the bar and he tries to talk them into joining. And Silco is just used to that being extremely depressing because people only show up because he pays for one round of drinks. And Vander now only stays and wants to keep talking after everybody leaves, he actually asks questions making Silco realized that he actually listened which Silco isn't used to and they end up talking all night. And in the morning when Vander goes all "I can't believe we forgot about the time, we should talk again" Silco realizes about how much he doesn't want him to leave.

*(actually there's a story about one of the worst real life couples meeting that would totally work for them. Like there's a public fair where people have to collect "signatures" in the form of getting people to pay for tickets to vote for a person to get them to win a prize. And the suitor just goes around threatening to beat people up if they don't buy voting tickets for their lady love so she can win the contest)

So what do you think made Silco’s little heart go doki doki for Vander? Cuz I keep picturing some creep grabbing his (non existent) ass and Vander having none of it. You know just show enough strength and protectiveness to be like ‘oh wait I wanna go mining in that’

I wanna go mining in that, absolutely perfect way to put it aksduhadsi. You know what, I had to indulge myself with this trope, why not!!!:

A little different scenario but the idea is the same. Silco would fall in love with the fact Vander is so safe and that Vander and him share the same kind of passion for the cause. And also brain go brr when big big man big arm punch enemies

[lurkingshan]

Hey Shan!! IDK if you're planning to do a BL wrap up or superlatives or anything like that this year so this question might be a bit too early but um...what has been a few of your favorite first watches for 2024 bls?

Hi Eboni! This is actually pretty good timing for a list because most of the shows that will end within 2024 are already over! The only two I could see maybe making my list that have not ended yet are Love is Like a Poison (Japan) and Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China), so I'll mention them here (fingers crossed they end well and stay favs).

That said, here are my favorite completed BLs of 2024 (alpha order)!

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

Two actors who first met in college are cast in a bl together, old feelings resurface, and the lines between their professional and private lives start to blur. This show is super beautiful and moody.

Cooking Crush (Thailand, YouTube or WeTV for uncut)

Ten and Prem are my favorite of OffGun's many couples. Ten is a med student with food issues who wants to learn how to cook, and Prem is a chef in training. Their romance is super sweet and I also really like the side couple and friend groups in this one.

Cherry Magic Thailand (Thailand, YouTube or Viu, requires VPN)

I still can't believe this show happened. How on earth did GMMTV manage to make a superior version of Cherry Magic?? Tay Tawan had a lot to do with it, along with a very smart adaptation. It's so sweet and funny and perfect (if you just pretend ep 8 doesn't exist).

City of Stars (Thailand, iQIYI)

I was surprised by how much I liked this charming little Thai pulp. It had an interesting story with strong writing and the pair was very good together. More people should watch it!

I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama (Japan, Gaga)

This is a short and sweet and note perfect BL comedy about two actors falling for each other while making a BL. Loaded with meta jokes about the industry and stan culture and very loving about it.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

I am obsessed with this excellent Thai BL that not nearly enough people watched. Two couples, both compelling and sexy and fun, and amazing friendship dynamics. I want everyone to watch it!

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (S Korea, iQIYI)

My top BL of the year. It's a second chance romance, you see the characters both in high school and later as adults and I don't really want to spoil anything else about it. It's beautiful, the characters are so compelling, and the story is masterfully told.

Love for Love's Sake (S Korea, iQIYI)

This one is special and quite unique, and I also don't want to spoil much about it! It begins with a basic isekai set up that then goes to some unexpected places. Really, really beautiful show.

Love Sea (Thailand, iQIYI)

Definitely my favorite spicy romance of the year. I really loved a lot about the story for this one, in particular the class dynamics that defined the characters and their relationship, and Mahasamut (played by Fort) is on my list of favorite drama characters this year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

We didn't get much from the Philippines this year, but they did drop one absolute banger in this show about a fierce and proud gay kid who gets booted out of school in Manila and sent to live with his grandma and mother on a small island. He makes friends and enemies and starts an LGBTQ+ club, and falls in love along the way.

Mr Mitsuya's Planned Feeding (Japan, fansub)

An excellent age gap romance about a young editor and the chef who writes for his magazine making food together and falling in love. Lots of fun side characters, too. I loved every minute of this show.

Perfect Propose (Japan, Gaga)

Two old friends meet when one of them is in need of housing and one is on the verge of a nervous breakdown from a soul-sucking corporate job, and help each other heal. This one is short and sweet.

Ossan's Love Returns (Japan, Gaga)

This one is technically a sequel, but you can enjoy it without having seen the original (and might like it better that way, tbh). One of the funniest shows of the year and featuring a main couple that is a personal fav and are now on my ride or die list.

Takara's Treasure (Japan, Gaga)

This one is a simple story but so, so sweet. A cute little bean follows his mysterious idol to university and joins the hiking club to get to know him better. They get to know each other slowly and fall in love.

Unknown (Taiwan, Viki)

ALMOST my favorite bl of the year, but we had a few issues on the back end. Despite that, I still loved it a whole lot. A family drama and a love story about two chosen brothers whose relationship changes over time. Easily the best BL Taiwan made this year.

Looking at this list, I am realizing how absolutely invaluable my Gaga and iQIYI subscriptions have become; it's where nearly all my favorite BL is airing.

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things : chapter eleven

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. CONSULT AO3 FOR FULL TAGGED CONTENT WARNINGS

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Your mom used to tell you that love was a choice that she made every day. She woke up and chose to love your father, chose to put in the effort that a relationship needed, chose to stay by his side through the good and the bad. It was a point of pride to endure at all, a smile slapped on her face. She told you that until he left one night, bags in hand and another woman’s name on his lips. 

After that, love was no longer a choice. It was nights of tears and screaming matches, begging and pleading, obligatory phone calls and visitations out of state. Love was no longer a choice, but a shackle, something that you say at the end of a conversation because you must. Love is a pain you bear because you are human, and someone must hold these feelings you have.

Your mother still wants your father to call her. 

You wait for Touya to come home.

It haunts you all morning, as you twiddle away time before the convention floor opens again. You end up calling your boss with an update, only to chat with him over coffee. His niece is over again - she screams hi into the receiver- and his sister says hello as well. You try to end the call there, but he stays on, asking questions about who you’ve seen and how they've been. The conversation drags, but neither of you seem to mind.

“You aren’t watching Shouta.” It’s an observation, posed as a question. He’s speaking better today- you aren’t sure why. Death ebbs and flows.

“He asked me not to.” The truth feels right at this moment. It doesn’t betray anything changing between you two; Toshinori is probably aware of the tense air between you too. Now, it’s just tense in a different way, a way that makes your toes curl to think about.

“Don’t take it personally,” he says, “Shouta is a very private man.”

More so than you know, Yagi, you think. Aizawa is very different behind closed doors, behind that wall he’s so carefully crafted. You fear you’ve only cracked one layer of him only to uncover a different veneer.

At the end of the call with Toshinori, you let slip a little “Love you.” and he laughs, surprisingly boisterous for his frail lungs. 

“I didn’t mean it,” you try to say.

“It’s okay,” he says once he catches his breath. “I understand.”

 You don’t.

The rest of the morning is spent in your room, pouring over your emails. Technically, the company is on crunch time; your newer model hits the market within two months and panic has set across the office. Everything is ready, technically, but also nothing is; every day is a new little fire, begging to be put out. Being away on a friday was actually a gift, you realize now that you’re scrolling through what you’ve missed. Your inbox is filled with random issues and scheduled meetings for the upcoming weeks. Your DMs are alight with notifications too-- these, less urgent. 

Izuku Midoriya -> are you alive? or did Mr. Aizawa murder you?

Oh, if only he knew how quickly things change.

we're both alive and well somehow <-

Another message comes through, this one in a different tab.

Hizashi Yamada -> I see you online!

Trying to sneak some work in before I get out of bed. <-

Hizashi Yamada -> Send me your room number.

He arrives in less than five minutes. As usual, Hizashi is put together in a respectfully ostentatious way. His all black outfit might be velvet because of how it eats the light, equally matte and shiny all at once. It’s the type of clothing you wish you could pull off-- or afford --but he wears it so easily, with a confidence you could never have. No, you could never so gracefully enter a room and throw off a jacket like some supermodel.

“How was the presentation?” he asks as he flops into bed beside you. It's a different feeling than being next to Aizawa; he’s perched like a girl gossiping during a slumber party, hair tosselled on your silk pillow. You close your laptop and carefully place it aside. There’s no way you’ll be working with Hizashi around.  That was probably his plan all along.

“I didn’t go-- you didn’t go either?” You playfully shove him.  “You're a bad friend!”

“I woke up late.” He shrugs, feigning sympathy with a content smirk. “And had other things to do this morning, if you catch my drift.”

He throws in an unnecessary wink. Your cringe is a reflex- you don’t really mind hearing about Hizashi’s conquests, but it does make you think about last night again. All you did was kiss, but your skin prickles as if you did more, as if you want more. 

And maybe you do. You’ve been tossing the idea around all morning, trying to figure out exactly what you want, not only from the man, but from yourself, but every time you think about it too hard, the image of Touya flashes in your mind, and your thoughts are tumbling once again.

You think of your mother. It used to be your worst fear to become her, but each day that passes, you see more of her in your eyes, in the thinness in  your skin.

“You okay, babygirl?”

He points directly at the space between your eyes, where you’ll one day have the same worried creases your mother has.. “You’ve got a face on your face.”

You try to wipe away whatever he’s seeing, but it clearly doesn’t work. Hizashi looks at you harder, expression especially soft. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m just-” you shrug. Is there a word for what you're feeling? Ennui? Horror? Somewhere in between? “Shaking off a weird feeling.”

“Weird feeling-” Hizashi throws you a wink. “I think we call it a hangover.”

“I’m not hungover--”

Before you can protest, your friend gasps, so violently that you nearly jump out of your skin. He backs up, hand over his heart and jaw dropped to the floor. “Oh my god. Oh my goooooooodddd.”

“What? What? Am I dying?”

“Your neck!” Now he points to you with a fully straight arm, like he’s accusing you of being a witch. You slap a hand over the spot instinctively. “Hello, that’s a hickey!”

Oh. Oh no. You had been too distracted this morning to notice, but apparently Aizawa’s lips have left a mark on you. Heat flushes across your face; a hickey? Who do you think you are? Kaminari? You’ve had a secret for less than 24 hours and it’s already threatening to come out.

“You got laid last night? With who? Where? When? Tell me everything!” Hizashi pushes down in the mattress to bounce himself, jimmying you up and down in the process.

“Well, uh--” You can’t even begin to make something up. The irrational fears start to take over- what if he figures out exactly who’s mouth left that mark? Hizashi’s a whore-- he might know some sort of mouth forensics or something! Or, you don’t know, maybe you still smell like Aizawa, even 

“You dirty dog, is that why you didn’t see Aizawa’s thing?” Your stomach somehow sinks lower. “Because you and Tensei fucked?”

Tensei?

“Tensei?”

“Oh my god, you totally did. You’re all flustered!”

You had completely forgotten the man even existed. Beautiful Tensei Iida, the ‘sexy’ doctor Hizashi wanted you to have… it’s funny how things never work out the way you think they will.

“It wasn’t Tensei!” You scooch away. “And it’s not a hickey!” 

Hizashi sees through that lie. He crawls on his hands and knees after you. “You gotta tell me, please-”

Crap. He’s not going to let this go. Sex and all that comes with it is Hizashi’s catnip; once he’s gotten a taste of it, he’s deranged. 

Telling the truth certainly isn’t an option. You and Aizawa? The absolute nuclear fallout that would hit the office if that came out would be catastrophic. Hizashi can’t keep his mouth shut, so even hinting at what happened last night could be the end of whatever weird thing you and Shouta have, killing it before you can even name what it is. 

And being so close to launch? It could potentially hinder Aizawa’s image--

And your and Touya’s relationship.

“It was someone I met at the restaurant after you left-” Not completely a lie. “We just-- kissed, I guess. I didn’t want to, you know, do more.”

Hizashi kicks his feet in excitement. His shoes are on your bed- gross.

“Good for you, setting boundaries!” he says. “That’s growth!”

He goofs around for just a moment longer before settling.

“Why do you look so sad about it?” He’s quick to say.  “Did they do something?”

“No! No, it was nice, but-” you start. The truth feels heavy, yet silly at the same time. You know the reaction you’re about it get, and yet you say it anyway-  “I don't know, I started to think about Touya this morning and-”

Hizashi’s face falls so hard that you swear you can hear it. His hatred of Touya has never been a secret, but before Touya made his disappearing act, he at least kept his comments to a minimum. With no Touya, there’s no limit to Hizashi’s public loathing.

“I love you. So much.” He takes your hand in his. He’s still on his knees, hunched over you awkwardly, those damn shoes still on the bed. “But thought you were over this shitbag.”

You want to protest. He’s not a shitbag, he’s just having a hard time. He’s not a bad guy, the drugs just make him that way. He’s a good boy underneath all of the troubles, you know it’s true.

But you’ve run out of excuses years ago. All you can say is the truth: “I think I still love him.” 

Compassion contorts your friend’s face. “Oh, girl. Girl. You don’t.”

“Hizashi-” You try to slide away, but he doesn’t let you. 

“He treated you like garbage for years. Years!” The blonde squeezes your hand. “And he wasn’t loyal, he wasn’t safe, he wasn’t kind or sober or-” 

“It's not like he abused me or something.” You say it so quickly that it feels tinny on your lips. Both of you go quiet for a second and Hizashi throws his hands up in surrender. He ducks his head low, not in defeat, but in a humble act, like a dog that’s pushed it’s boundaries a bit too far.  With a sigh, he sits back on his knees, allowing there to be space between you.

“I didn't say that,” he says carefully.  “It doesn't have to be abuse, that doesn't mean it's healthy.”  

There’s a hesitation, then he reaches out his hand again. You don’t take it, but he keeps it there, in the air, waiting for you.

“I just care about you. I know ‘muri and I get a bit too pushy and wild sometimes, but it’s because we want you to have fun for once. We-- we want you to be with someone that makes you feel good-- who thinks you’re the best thing in the world,” Hizashi says. “We want you to get what you deserve and Touya isn’t that.”

A different type of warm runs over you- a watery one, one that stings at your eyes. You aren’t sure where the well of emotion has come from, but it’s there, bubbling just under the surface. You try to sniffle without giving yourself away. 

“Would it be so bad to let yourself move on and try something new?” Hizashi smiles.  “Let yourself have a little fun for once?”

Reluctantly, you take his hand. He squeezes and coos, pulling your hand into an awkward faux-hug, right about his heart.

 “Let yourself have fun, let yourself live.”

“I’m gonna try to try.”

--

The convention itself goes smoothly. More people ask about Yagi, but the word seems to be spreading: he’s not here. He’ll never be here. The air is bittersweet, but Hizashi always recovers it for you. He keeps the conversation flowing back to work and the bed, with much more ease than you’ll ever have.

The only time you see Aizawa  is when he’s in your periphery. He’s in the corner, caught in some conversation with people whose names you’ve already forgotten. Tensei’s by his side, basking in the probable praise, while Aizawa just nods along. The presentation must have gone well, you gather from the attention they’re both getting. That’s both good and bad; the work deserves credit, but Aizawa…

What a heavy secret to carry. What a prominent shame. He didn’t want you to see, but he was okay with all of these strangers ogling him like a science experiment. 

Does that make you more important than those strangers? Or less?

You try to look for an opening to leave, but one never seems to come.

Only once do you catch him staring back at you, his expression too far away to be read. The thump of your heart steps out of rhythm for a moment before you get yourself together.

“I see you eyeing up Tensei,” Hizashi teases. “Are you sure he isn’t your mystery man?”

You deny it, but Hizashi is unconvinced.

----

The three of you finally reunite over dinner. This time, Hizashi swears he will stay the whole time.

This time, you don’t want him to.

You’ve settled into a different booth than you were in last night. Again, the chip basket is empty before Aizawa can arrive. He’s always running late for these things, either through lack of effort or lack or lack of time management. If he didn’t have a presentation tomorrow, you’d be annoyed, but you decide to give the man a break.

Though, you do wonder if you’ll be allowed to see this one. You’ll have to go, right? It’s about your company.

“I still can’t believe you managed to pick up Tensei with Aizawa right there.”  Hizashi leans back into the booth.

“It wasn’t Tensei,” you insist. “And he was distracted.”

“By what?”

You aren’t a quick liar. 

“Some girl.” Or a good one. “They went off together.”

You know you’ve fucked up by the look on Hizashi’s face. He sits up, staring at you from over his glasses with a slack jawed amazement.

“You're lying.” He sits up even more. “You're lying straight to my face right now.”

Fear thrums you so hard that your stomach almost revolts on impact. 

“I’ve never seen Shouta pick up a stranger, ever.” Hizashi throws his hands up in the air for effect. “Never, ever. Not even in college! ”

Looking back, you should have said he was struck by lightning. That would have been more believable. From what you remember, Aizawa doesn’t date very often - or at all. You can’t remember if he’s ever brought someone to a work event or even mentioned a partner.  (Which makes you feel equally bad and… special. Are you an exception to his rule? Are you different? 

…Or, more likely, he’s just a private guy. But you can pretend.)

“Well, uh, I dunno what to say.” You still haven’t come up with a better lie. “Ask him yourself.”

“I will!”

Good. That gives you time to text Shouta and warn him about that shit storm he’s about to enter. The two of you can come up with a lie that makes sense and won’t send Hizashi screaming. Suddenly, you’re grateful that Aizawa can’t show up on time for-

“Again with the chips?”

Fuck!!

As if summoned, Aizawa is behind you, shrugging off his jacket. He’s in the same suit as he was earlier, but a lot more disheveled after making it through the day. The social interaction really took it out of him; no wonder he’s so quiet at the office. You pat the seat next to you and he practically slumps into it.

“Please tell me you aren’t escaping again tonight,” he says to Hizashi.

“Oh, no, I’m not going anywhere, trust me.” That smile sets the whole table on guard. “I have too many questions.”

“If you had questions, you should have shown up to the talk,” Aizawa says. “Which went well, by the way. Thank you for asking.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to ask, asshole.”

“Should have been the first words out of your mouth.”

“Well, sorry, Mr. Sensitive. I didn’t think I needed to stroke your ego today! Should I start singing your praises now, or after we verbally jack you off for a bit?”

“We are in public, Mic, stop talking about jacking off.”

“How was your presentation, oh smart one?”

“It was--”  Aizawa stops himself mid sentence, brow furrowed as he turns directly towards you. “You’re being quiet.”

“Me?” you point to yourself as if you don’t know the answer. The accusation makes your heart race- or maybe it’s those sharp eyes, boring down into you. 

“Why are you being quiet?” he says with an accusatory glare. “What did you do?”

Hizashi erupts into a giggle and the attention is finally turned away from you. 

“I heard that you went home with someone-”

Aizawa’s gaze snaps to you.  It takes effort to press your lips down and keep a neutral expression; anxiety is trilling inside you, high and frail and wild, like a little flute in a marching band finale. The man tilts his head just a bit, eyes sharp and questioning, clearly trying to interrogate you while completely silent.

“Where did you hear that, Yamada?” Aizawa’s tone isn’t flat now. No, it’s pressed, stressed; he thinks you’ve told him everything. You try to gesture with just your eyes -- three normal blinks and wide eyes, like a makeshift morse code. This obviously fails.

“Little miss girl here-” Hizashi waggles his eyebrows and Aizawa’s pupils dilate with fear-  “told you you went home with a stranger from the restaurant.” 

Realization hits Aizawa’s expression, then, relaxation. His whole body turns to you with a belabored sigh. “You little snitch.”  

The smile you’ve been trying to fight erupts across your face.  You burst into a nervous giggle, one that you have to silence with your own hand. This is a dangerous line you’re walking; Hizashi isn’t a stupid guy- he’s going to figure out something’s wrong if either of you slip up.

“It’s true?” Hizashi gasps. “What? You? You?”

“Is it really so weird that I had sex with someone?” Aizawa says.  “You do it all the time.”

“You aren’t a hook up guy!” Hizashi peers from over his glasses.  “You’re a ‘third date and a bottle of wine’ guy!”

“When have I ever had a bottle of wine?”

“Okay, ‘third date and an air of desperation.’ How's that?”

Aizawa  wrinkles his nose and bares his teeth, barking out a canned laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Fuck off.” 

The shorter man sits back in his seat and uses his drink to gesture to you. “Why don’t you harass Miss Hickey over there instead?”

The attention shifts to you for only a moment before Hizashi waves you away with the back of his hand. He shifts forward on to his elbows, directly towards his friend..“She just made out with a guy, I don’t care about that-”

“-Hey!” you object. As if Aizawa isn’t the reason you’re bruised in the first place! The dark haired man is purposefully looking down his nose at you, expression taut. 

“Sorry, but I need every nitty gritty detail of Shouta’s night ASAP. “ Hizashi grinds you back on track.

The two of them have been friends since college, you remember. You’d never really been able to see the connection before; they’re both so different that they almost seem like they’d never mesh, but today they are huddled together like boys, mirroring each other’s movements. You wonder if there were lots of nights like these, gossiping over girls and wild nights.

Did Hizashi know him before the car accident?

“I’ll tell you later, Mic,” Aizawa says.  “After she’s gone.”

It’d be best to stay quiet, but you can’t bring yourself to be purposefully excluded.

“You don’t want to get dirty in front of me, huh?” you tease. Besides, you’d like to see what he comes up with. “I can handle it.”

He doesn’t take the bait. “I’m not a sharer.”

You turn away with a little shrug. “Hm.”

Aizawa almost doesn’t respond. The gears turn behind his eyes, slowly grinding away at his patience until he grits out a little: “What?” 

His knee bumps into yours under the table. It’s fleeting, but there. 

“I was just thinking-” you start. “Maybe you’re a bit of a coward.”

“Coward?” he replies.

“Afraid to gossip-” 

It’s Aizawa’s turn to huff. “Gentlemen don’t gossip.”

“Since when are you a gentleman?” Hizashi barks out a laugh.

With another exhale, Aizawa closes his eyes. A moment, then another passes, before he opens them again, one brow raised. It’s the same expression a teacher would give to the class after too much clownery. No wonder the interns are terrified of the man, you’d be scared too if you weren’t so excited to see where this is going. 

“You really want me to tell you what I did last night?” He’s deadpan. “Really?”

Both of you nod. 

“Fine.” He throws his hands up in defeat.  “I met this woman at the bar. Bought her a cocktail-”

“What kind of cocktail?” you interject.

“What?” Aizawa stares at you, lip curled in frustration. You’re making lying harder and you know that, but excitement is driving you forward. The risk doesn’t outweigh the reward quite yet. “I don’t know- something sweet.”

“Hm.”

“Margarita. The spicy kind. She tasted like it all night.”

Aizawa is alarmingly good at lying. He does it with a straight face, minus the telltale curl of his lip, but Hizashi doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy sitting on the edge of his seat. You’re still trying to reconcile all of the versions of him inside your head: the work version, the ‘lover’ you met, and this lackadaisical liar. 

“Keep going.” Hizashi urges.

“Then we went back to her room. Didn’t even make it to the bed.”

The way he lays down each word is slow, meticulous, purposeful; the narrative he builds is crafted especially for you, but you aren’t quite sure of his goal. 

“ Is that enough detail?”

“Boo-” Hizashi’s fanning the flame now too. “Not the fade to black storytelling!”

Aizawa ducks in close, resting on his forearms as he talks. His gaze flicks between you and Hizashi, but lingers much longer on you, flickering down to your lips every now and again. His timbre drops lower, gritty, rolling as he whispers. 

“We went back to her room-”

You’re watching his mouth a bit too intensely. 

“- I got on my hands and knees-”

He enunciates it slowly, so neither of you miss a moment. A shiver goes up your spine. There’s a weight to his breath, a genuine enjoyment. Would he get on his knees for you?

“And I  begged to eat her out.” 

He’s proud of it. Oh, he would get down for you. He’d plead for the privilege. His leg brushes against yours again, this time with pressure and purpose, and your skin crawls with excitement. It’s just a story. You know it’s not true. 

But the glint in his eye says that he wishes it wasn’t.

“And?” your voice shakes a bit. That’s his goal, isn’t it? To get you riled up? To make you regret forcing him into this situation?

Aizawa rubs the spot where his jaw connects with a slow, purposeful circle, like he’s trying to rub out a kinked muscle. It’s borderline boastful. “And that’s how I spent the night.”

Hizashi tips his head back and laughs so loudly that the table next to you stares. “Good for you!”

“Good for her,” Aizawa replies.

Hizashi rolls his eyes. “I almost forgot you’re a munch. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten any, so-”

“Watch it, Hizashi.”

You regret the question before you ask it. “Uh, what’s a munch?”

Both of them look at you.

“Well, it’s clearly not Touya,” Hizashi mumbles, and you shoot him a glare. 

“It’s a slang term for someone who really enjoys…” Aizawa trails off, cocking his head expectantly. 

“Eating pussy,” Hizashi finishes for him. 

Another thrill of excitement goes up your spine. Enjoys it? Is that even possible? The idea has you woozy. 

“Yeah, that’s totally not Touya,” you manage to say.

Hizashi makes another comment, but you can’t force yourself to focus on that. No, not when your heart is beating like this. It’s just words, a fake story, but there’s a silent promise to it as well. You wonder what would have happened last night if you said yes. Would he have spent the night between your legs, eating simply for your pleasure?

Want trembles in your hands as you pretend to check your phone. Is it pathetic? To be worked up over a silly little story, made up to cover your tracks? The waiter comes, you all order. Aizawa’s knee pumps against yours- once accidentally, once on purpose. You hope he doesn’t notice how you’re squirming in your seat, trying to ignore the way your body is craving pressure and attention. You think, maybe, if you move right, you could get the seam of your pants to hit just right-

What are you doing? This is pathetic. 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” You don’t wait for a response. Pushing up from the table, you turn down the back of the restaurant. The signs lead you into a little back hallway, tucked by the kitchen, where the lighting is respectfully dim. You have to wait a moment because the door is locked, but you don’t mind. It gives you time to mull over everything.

Maybe Hizashi is right; maybe it’s okay to try something new. It’s been years since you’ve felt this alive with someone, this excited to get something more. With Touya, sex became more of an obligation. Maybe it could be different with someone else. Maybe it could be something fun, something-

A hand catches you by the back of your shirt, not hard enough to yank you backwards, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.  A gasp squeaks out of you as you stagger back into the chest of the man behind you. You crank around to see- only to relax when you realize it’s just Aizawa.

“You scared me,” you mumble out a lament. 

“You little sneak.” With a thumb, he tilts your chin up, so far that you’re looking back at him. His other fingers press ever so nicely into the length of your neck, drawing you back into his chest. There’s nothing constricting your breath, but suddenly your lungs are empty, breathless, and your parted lips pull nothing in. Aizawa’s dark eyes are narrowed, boring straight down into yours.

Oh, he’s pissed. 

And, for the first time, that excites you.

“You like making me sweat, don’t you?” His free hand is looped around your waist, holding you much tighter than the other. “Almost getting us caught-- You make me so mad sometimes.” 

The kitchen is full of mumbled orders and the clang of dishware. It echoes through the dark hall you’ve trapped yourselves in, you aren’t alone, no matter how badly you wish it to be true.  

“Thought you liked me,” you whisper.

You swear there’s a subtle dilation to his eyes, involuntary. Real. “I do.”

He leans over and dots a simple kiss on to your forehead, right where your hair meets skin. It’s simple, soft, but, god, it sets everything inside you into this wet, wobbly, needy heat, something soft and harsh all at once.

“Even when you piss me off.” The hand around your neck twitches playfully, with no real constriction. 

It’s cliche, you think, how you just sort of watch each other, breathless, patient. Neither of you tries to make a move, locked together. He smells good. Not like anything you can name, just… good.  It’s the same good you feel in your chest and an equal good to how your hands feel when you reach backwards and grab his hips. 

“I’m starting to think you like making me mad.”

“Shouta-” you say his name because he likes it, because it makes him lean in closer to you-

The bathroom door flies open and you both pull away like you’ve touched a hot stove. The woman who exists definitely knows something’s up; she rolls her eyes and sends a text on her phone as she passes. The two of you share a look; you, relieved, Aizawa amused. It’s as if you're sixteen again, with this fluttering feeling in your stomach you can’t quite swallow down. It’s too bright to be anxiety.

Aizawa steps back a bit with a nod. Oh, right, the bathroom. You don’t actually have to go, but it would be silly to not go in now. Maybe you can just try to go-

You look back at your Aizawa.

Or maybe.

Or maybe you can have some fun.

With uncharacteristic confidence, you hook a finger under a button of his shirt and tug. Aizawa’s face goes bright with realization. He falls into following as you guide him forward into the bathroom, step by awkward step, backwards until the door opens against your weight. Aizawa glances around before the door closes after him, making sure to remain unspotted, then turns to you with a wicked, narrowed, glowering look. 

The bathroom is simple, but nice. The lighting is sharp and bright, the floor is white and clean. A decorative table is wedged into the corner, topped with extra towels and real flowers in water. Your brain can’t process more than that- not with a dark haired man wrapped around your finger. He has the forethought to lock the door behind him.

“What are you doing-?” he grumbles wickedly, ducking down to catch you in a kiss, but you don’t let him make contact. You dip away, drawing him further and further in, until you’re backed against the little decorative table. With his weight, he shifts you back until your ass is seated properly on that wiggly table, one hand back to brace yourself. Finally, he traps you, stubble rough against your cheek, lips soft against yours.

“I thought we were going slow,” he says into your lips. You don’t respond-- you can’t. Your breath is stolen from your lungs, the need to breathe replaced with the need for him, the need for touch-

You hook a leg over his waist and his hand flies to it, folding it higher, pulling it tighter. 

“Oh, you can’t help it, can you?” he mumbles. “One little story about eating pussy has you desperate for it, huh?”

“Y-you-” You hate that you can’t dirty talk smoothly like he can.

“Yeah?” He’s almost condescending. “Yeah? What does my girl want?”

Embarrassment floods your cheeks with heat. Aizawa waits for it, hovering above you. Oh, he won’t give it to you until you really ask, will he? You have to physically brace yourself to say it.

“Will you kiss it?” you ask, much meeker than intended. 

“Kiss ‘it’?” You expect him to keep picking at you, but instead his hands are busy unbuttoning your pants, guiding them down. “Do you mean-”

His lips find your hickey and the spot aches under the connection. “Here?”

Creeping lower, he hunches over your chest. This time, he pecks at the hem of your shirt. “Here?”

Down he goes, on to his knees. This kiss lands in your stomach, right where the tightness of want sits-

“Here?”

“Shouta-” You’re mad and annoyed and you’d frankly settle for him kissing you anywhere at this point-

Hands slip your pants down past your knees. When the air hits your skin, you suddenly realize just how wet you are, how it’s bled through your panties and smeared across your thigh. Before you can process anything, his mouth is over your clothed cunt, wide mouthed and kissing. The drag of his tongue is a lot, even though the fabric; the contact has your spine flexing all on its own.

“Here?”

“There, there,” You’re clinging on to handfuls of his hair already. “Right there.”

But Aizawa doesn’t kiss you again. 

“In a public bathroom?” He’s watching you from the floor. Your leg is looped over his back. He’s surprisingly wide and thick under you; your legs have to spread so far to fit him. God, your body is plaint enough that it just gives to his pushing hands and demands.

 “You like it nasty.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond. Your brain is fried with a deadly combination of horny and embarrassed. Is this really what you want? 

“No, you don’t like it dirty, do you?” It feels like he’s reading your mind, hands kneading your thighs with a growing hunger. He plants a kiss where your legs meets your underwear and your cunt pulses in response. “My girl just needs it so bad, doesn’t she?”

Teeth sink into your inner thigh and you kick in response: another fucking hickey. The thing that got you into this mess-

“That’s right, my girl.” He’s talking to himself now, mumbling just under his breath. A finger loops under your panties, the same way your finger looped under his button, and there’s no time to feel shame before he exposes your pussy.  “You went home with me.” 

You expect him to go straight for your clit, to devour you with the fucking need that’s been building between you all goddamn night-

But, instead, he touches his lips to the crest of your mons and breathes. It’s hot, molten, pours down you like molten lava. It’s the faintest, tickling touch, but it’s enough, it’s more than enough. A moan rips out of you, so unexpected that you jump at your own voice. 

Usually, when you have sex, you’re worried about the small things. Whether or not you’ve shaved, whether you look thin enough or pretty enough, but now, the only thing you can think about is being touched, needing touch, desiring touch.

And the time.

“We-” He hasn’t even started and you’re quivering for it. “We gotta hurry before Mic-”

“I promised you-” Aizawa says, firmly. “That we’d go slow.”

Finally, gloriously, you feel the hot press of his tongue, dragging up through your excitement. Every inch he takes is painstakingly slow until he hits the nub of your clit. That contact is fast, fleeting, but it still sends you keening and gasping. Every important muscle inside you is bunched and coiled, filled with enough potential energy to set the whole fucking restaurant on fire. You’re going to cum. You’re going to cum from practically nothing.

The vase of flowers on the table is overturned. You don’t even remember knocking it over. Water pools under your ass and everything is wet, from you, to the mess, to his drool across your inner thigh. His mouth closed over you the same way someone would eat a peach, sucking with this absurdly lewd sound as if he’s afraid to let any of your excitement escape. His jaw moves slow - just like he fucking promised- and doesn’t miss an inch of skin as he closes his mouth, lips coming closed around your clit. The pressure feels heavenly against the already puffy parts of your pussy and your hands clasp his dark locks tighter. You aren’t sure if you’re trying to pull him away or pull him closer; your body is just reacting, like neurons are firing all on their own.

Fingers clamp around your thighs. Aizawa is groaning, voice so low it vibrates against you, as if he’s the one receiving it, not you. Enjoys eating pussy… the memory rings through your skull. Fuck, what an understatement; he eats pussy like he needs it to live. His eyes are lidded heavy with pleasure. Every lick and suck and touch along the tapestry of your cunt is wet and wild, but aggravatingly skilled. The heat of his mouth against your clit - firm, but not hard- is enough to steal your breath away.

Then, he pulls away, and your pleasure begins to unravel-- unfairly fast. You hadn’t realized how close to the precipice you had been until you started falling away. The feeling is disastrous. 

He speaks with a heady exhale, warm and not nearly enough. “You taste-”

“Shut up,” Now you’re definitely pulling his face back towards you this time. “Shut up, shut up, shut up-”

He silences himself with your cunt. 

This time, there’s no savoring. His lips and tongue are on your clit, sucking in mouthfuls of your folds, bouncing against the involuntary roll of your hips. Everything inside you is hot and sticky, thick like honey. You’re saying something, maybe, but it’s all high pitched and garbled. The rub from Aizawa's stubble sends a chill up your spine and the hot and cold inside you melts into something smooth-

You can feel your orgasm coming long before it hits, everything inside you pulling high and tight, like the ocean rolling before a wave. The crest hasn't hit, but it's going to come, you're going to cum-

And then you look down, and Aizawa's staring back at you, with those dark, hooded eyes, and you unravel. It’s not my other orgasms you've had: a full body feeling, like the flush to warmth you get when alcohol hits your stomach. It rolls, through you, away from you, against you- in every fucking direction until every ounce of tension is smoothed from your muscles. Boneless had always sounded silly, but now you understand exactly what it means; you slump back and try to catch your breath.

Aizawa’s movements slow, but never stop. He runs the flat face of his tongue against you until you gather the energy you shove him back. For a split second, a string of your cum ties between you and his mouth.

“Shit,” you breathe. Your surroundings feel more tangible suddenly. The sink drips, the walls echo the restaurant’s soft muzak, Aizawa’s cheeks glimmer with your wetness: it’s all suddenly real.

“I cannot believe-” He wipes his face on his sleeve.

“Shit,” you repeat. That was insane. You were insane! Your friend is waiting at the table, probably wondering what happened to you two-

“-that you let me do that. You came so--”

“Shit.” This is exactly what you needed. “I’ve never-”

Aizawa sits back on his knees with a stiff grunt. “Don’t tell me you’ve never orgasmed before.”

“No! I’ve totally-” You awkwardly shimmy up your pants and instantly regret it. It’s wet. It’s cold. “No one’s ever gone down on me before.”

Aizawa gives you the slowest, longest blink you’ve ever seen. Then, he shakes his head and stands up, brushing his pants off. You debate asking if his leg hurts, but decide against it. “How do you continuously say things that make me want to go insane?” 

He huffs about it, but you’re starting to unravel the strings of affection he weaves into his sentences. You shrug, biting back your smile.

“I’m just special, I guess.”

Eyes closed, he gives you a nod, tempering himself.

“Go back to the table before we’re caught.”

Fuck-- that’s right. You two have been gone for long enough that it's starting to get suspicious. Besides, there’s going to be a line outside the door if you don’t get moving soon- if there isn’t a line already. You quickly check your outfit and adjust your hair in the mirror; your skin looks brighter than usual. The power of an orgasm, you guess.

“Don’t  you want me to…?” You give a little jerk off motion and Aizawa rolls his eyes at the behavior-- as if he didn’t just eat your pussy in a fucking bathroom.

“I don’t want you to do anything to me,” he insists. He helps you off of the table with a hand, then ushers you towards the locked door. “I want to lay you down and eat you out until your brain factory resets like a cheap Macbook.”

He’s already done that, but okay, you could be down for more-

“But we are in a bathroom.” He gestures around him.  “In a restaurant.”

You add: “With Hizashi waiting.”

“With Mic waiting. He’s smart- he’ll figure us out if we aren’t careful,” he agrees. “Now, get out there and cover me.”

Suddenly, Aizawa leans over and kisses you. It’s not deep, but you can taste your musk on his lips and that makes your spine thrill with excitement.  It’s illicit in a way that makes you feel young and happy and, and, and-

And all those weird, indescribable highs you get when your brain is drowned in dopamine and oxytocin. For a fleeting moment, you reach out and grab his hands, holding on for only a squeeze.

“Your room tonight?” you ask when he pulls away. Your head is still racing, head still swimming-

He grimaces. “Yours has better pillows.”

“I brought them from home.” He was in your bed last night, in your pussy moments ago, but the fact he knows your pillow feels so strangely intimate. “I like silk pillowcases.”

The expression in his face softens, just at the crowed corner of his eyes. “Of course you do.” He jerks his chin towards the door.  “Get going.”

“Sho-”

“Get.”

And you walk out with wobbly knees.

[kalliandrae]

I have never written anything about Warhammer 40000 before, but I found myself lost in the loophole that is the Primarchs. So I can't help myself but write about some of them. Especially those I like the most.

It will be a few short headcanons about those I like the most, how would they treat you after you had a long and tiring day. In no particular order here it is.

Roboute Guilliman:

He would likely approach the situation with his typical mix of logic and affection. He would sit down with you and ask how your day was, listening intently to your response. Once he has a grasp on how stressful your day was, he would offer a comforting gesture, like a warm hug or holding your hand, gently rubbing your much smaller hands and listening to everything you say. He definitely would offer advice to you, as well.

He would also also respect if you want to spend some time alone, but he would make sure you have your favorite snacks and drinks available when you need it. Or when you no longer want to be alone and want to... sleep with him instead of in your lonely room.

Horus Lupercal:

Horus is known for his charismatic and loving nature, and he would go out of his way to make his loved one feel relaxed and cared for after a tiring day. He would be attentive and supportive, Listen to any thoughts, concerns, or frustrations you may have and he is offering a listening ear and reassuring words of comfort and encouragement. He would offer to massage your shoulders, applying soothing oils to loosen any tension in your shoulders, prepare a warm cup of tea or other beverage to help you relax. He would also prepare a relaxing bath with scented candles.

And if you are feeling up to it, he could also arrange a romantic, candlelit dinner or a relaxing night in together, filled with laughter, cuddles, and gentle kisses. ;)

Lorgar Aurelian:

After a tiring day, Lorgar would treat you with extreme care and sweetness. He would draw you a warm bath and tenderly wash your hair, then massage your tension away. He would light the room with candles, and softly recite poetry or sacred verses to soothe your tired mind.

Lorgar would then lay you on the bed, gently wrapping you in a blanket and whispering how much he loved and adored you until you drifted off to sleep. He would stay by your side, watching over you like a guardian. Some may would say he is bordering on worshipping you by how much he adores you. Probably he actually does that, as well.

It's Lorgar we speak about, after all.

Rogal Dorn:

Knowing Dorn, he would likely take a more practical and hands-on approach to showing his love after a tiring day. He'd be very stoic and reserved in his demeanor, but his actions would speak louder than words. He definitely won't engage in romantic gestures, he would focus on ensuring that his loved one's basic needs are met, so that you are fes, rested and comfortable. He would take care of any practical needs or tasks that need to be done.

He definitely would make sure your living space is neat and orderly. You would probably never find it in any other way. His love language is one of practicality and reliability, offering a steadfast presence and support rather than grand gestures or expressive displays. He probably couldn't even do those kind of displays, anyway.

Ferrus Manus:

After a tiring day, Ferrus Manus would likely approach you one in a reserved and stoic manner, not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Nonetheless, he would likely show his concern for you in his own way, offering a firm but comforting touch, a brief but genuine smile, which very few ever had the luck to see, or simply inquiring if you are well.

He would likely prioritize practicality in tending to your needs, such as offering food, a comfortable place to rest, or suggesting a practical solution to any problems you may be facing. In the end, his way of expressing love would be through actions rather than words.

Perturabo:

Okay, he is much more tougher, given his personality, but let's see... You somehow managed to get his attention and his love. However, it is more difficult than with the other mentioned Primarchs.

Perturabo, being the kind of Primarch that he is, would likely handle his partner's exhaustion with a no-nonsense approach. He'd encourage efficiency and practicality.

So it is not unexpected that he wouldn't shower you with love, you knew what you were getting into, weren't you? Of course you were.

But let's not be harsh. Even he has some *relaxing* activities like tactical games or perhaps even building something as a way to unwind. And if he is in a good enough mood, maybe you can join him. He'd be direct about his expectations and would likely encourage you to be productive and efficient with this downtime.

... or if he is in a bad mood, he'd grow even more distant than usual. He'd probably just dismiss you with a "I'm busy with my own tasks, don't bother me." He'd probably feel guilty about it, but never talk about it.

But probably the next day you'd notice that he is a bit less harsh than usual.

This is the first time I ever wrote headcanons, and it is much harder than I originally thought it to be — but it is also really fun! I am not sure how much I succeeded in writing them accurately, I hope it's not that bad and it was an enjoyable read!

[scionsthings]

You utilized the exact same words i used with a friend when i was talking about this with them. I'm a very analytical person I don't put two man ( or any other couple actually ) together just because they are sexy and im not delulu, like i can tell when the story mean something or not, of course if I want to ship it i ship it in any case, but I'm mature enough to understand if something is meant or not because i do care about the canon events especially if they are well narrated. I saw this thing they have at the very first time, from act 1 Season 1 to act 3 Season 2 and Jayce's relationship with Mel actually helped me, who watched the series as an aroace person so i don't really know personally how love works lol, to understand what Jayce truly wanted. It was so, so obvious for me in Season 1 and Season 2 just confirmed Jayce's feelings, because the character himself realized them. He loved Mel, but because Mel is a Mirror, she reflects other people desires she...she was the reflection of Viktor. Jayce saw something of Viktor in her. These are not the eyes of someone in love who believes in their partner

And I choose these screenshots not to negate the fact Jayce felt genuine attraction for Mel (as i already said) but because these moments are moments of "tenderness" with your partner. But why are you so..distant? It's because Jayce unconsciously knew that Mel is not Viktor and she'll never could be but he still cares about her. And..well THESE are the eyes of someone in love, who believes in their partner knowing they want to stay by their side, for eternity at this point. Look how Jayce shines, AND in the very first time you can see the emotions in his eyes just talking to a stranger. Viktor gives him hope. Those eyes are so so intense when he's look at him

And the feeling is mutual, but Viktor is more subtle because he was so stucked on the belief he wasn't worth it...And then happened what happened. But even after all of that Jayce is here to remind him he's the most beautiful creature in the world in every sense possible, and he believed in him till the end. I really know what brotherly soulmates mean, it's like as you and another person were born from the same ovum, that strong connection between two twins and this is definitely NOT the case They are partners Science Partners Partners in crime Partners in love, with the difference their love it's expressed differently from simple kisses and carnal passion, they loves in their unique way that's why their relationship is so BEAUTIFUL There was no Kiss, not an "I love you" because those things are so..bland if you compare them to everything else, the touches, Jayce's words as you arleady said OP

And this for me, as for you OP, this makes Jayvik CANON And never won't change my mind because the voice actors believed in it. The animation team believed in it, because they showed us EXACTLY this type of love.

I know I'm most definitely not the first one to talk about this but truly I believe that if queer people identify with a ship/character then that makes them queer.

That being said, Viktor and Jayce are most definitely queer to me. Their love definitely defies the bounds of any normal "romantic" or "platonic" relationship and that in itself is inherently queer. Defying societies expectations of a given role, like, how is that not queer?

It genuinely baffles me that it's claimed they're "brotherly" because there are WAYS to code brotherly dynamics, or really close friends, without romantic undertones at all! That's possible, and those relationships are present in arcane! So why is it that Jayce and Viktor feels so queer? because they fucking are! You have to think, one person who worked on arcane does not define a relationship that has been worked on by a shit ton of other people. Their relationship is queer coded even if unintentional, it is there. and when characters are queer coded, they ARE queer.

Jayces confession was such a beautiful way to show his love for Viktor, they don't have to kiss, or explicitly say "love" for that to be the implication. It's there. half the people who watched that scene thought they were going to kiss. there's a reason for that! I hate pulling out the argument "what if one of them was a woman?" but sometimes you genuinely have to use that argument because SO many people would be on board if Jayce or Viktor was a woman and the other was a man.

Jayce is genuinely so devoted to him and it's so so clear the entire time! Because yeah! He chose to go through that with Viktor! He chose to hold him by the neck and hold hands with him! Because he loves him! That is true love no matter the intent! He loves everything about Viktor and never once did he falter in that love because it was such a big part of him!!!!! Like I cannot imagine watching the Finale and not coming out of it like "Jayvik is canon" because to me it is canon. like. legitimately canon. and I will be referring to it as canon because that's how I see it.

Okay thanks for listening to my thoughts lol I love queer relationships in media

[codenamesazanka]

rereading Oumagadoki Zoo oneshot!

Unfortunately, because I am this tweet:

I will drawing comparisons of it to bnha. specifically, Shigaraki and the League, because the parallels are pretty obvious.

If you haven't heard of the oneshot Oumagadoki Zoo before, it's one of Horikoshi's earlier works, a oneshot that became his first serialized manga. Premise of both the manga and the oneshot is the same: Aoi Hana, a high school girl, applies to work at a zoo, only to discover too late the zoo is a magical one where the animals can turn into humans, while the zoo director, Shiina, is a human cursed to look like a rabbit-man; she then gets dragged along into crazy adventure as the director attempts to break his curse.

The oneshot is much less zany-comedic in tone, with Shiina a more serious and ambitious character and leader, but still deeply caring for his friends, who are all outcasts animals he helped. I've compared Serialized Manga Shiina with Shigaraki before; but I've always found Oneshot Shiina to be even more similar, especially with later series Shigaraki.

In the oneshot, the first mission we see Shiina and his team go on is to rescue a talking alligator that's been captured and smuggled by people wearing skull-masks. Obviously these guys are not the good guys. They acknowledge that the talking alligator might as well be considered a person, but are still keeping him caged and ready to be sell him.

So I always wondered if they were the basis of the bnha's CRC - skull-mask wearing criminals who looks down on Spinner, a person whose quirk make him looks like a lizard. But this time they're even more evil.

In the manga, it's due to Shiina's cursed magic powers that allows the animals to turn into human form; in the oneshot, however, the animals are born with magical energies that transforms them into human form - and Shiina is only someone who finds and gathers them in order to harvest their magical energy to break his curse.

If this sounds kinda selfish, it is - which Shiina acknowledges. Shiina didn't save the talking alligator out of the goodness of his heart - he needed the alligator's magical energy, and says so bluntly.

But when Hana accuses Shiina of using the animals to his own ends, Uwabami, a snake woman, says no, all the animals are here of their own free will.

The explanation Uwabami then gives Hana about why they stay with Shiina, why they follow him, actually mirrors Spinner's last dialogue with Deku on bnha a lot:

Uwabami describes the animals that have magical energy as beings whose forms have bent away from normal and turned 'grotesque'. In Japanese, the word she uses is 'igyou', which is the same word used to describe people like Spinner - translated as 'heteromorphs' in MHA. Uwabami implies that these 'grotesque' animals had suffered, had stood out with negative consequences, and that was how Shiina was able to find them. Similarly, Spinner says that he was oppressed for being a heteromorph, for having a quirk that altered his appearance.

The context is of course different, but I think the underlying feeling is still the same. Uwabami explains Shiina and the animals' situations are similar, that in helping Shiina break his curse, the issue of the animals' magical grotesque forms may also be solved as well. Shiina's mission aligns with their desires as well. In Spinner's case, Shigaraki told the League that he'll destroy everything, which at first also seemed like it was his specific dream; but within that destruction is also promised the changes and goals each of the League wants - Shigaraki represented him.

For the animals of Shiina's zoo, they were never able to fit in, they were unneeded and unwanted - and yet Shiina would still consider them comrade and friends, and gathered them together. Much like Shigaraki did for the League: he gave someone like Spinner a dream, a chance to be someone. Gave a bunch of strays, the dregs of society, a place to be.

So both Shiina and Shigaraki - leaders loved and respected by their friends so much that those friends - Uwabami and Spinner - are both willing to so straightforwardly spill out their hearts and feelings to near strangers.

anyways, I recommend the oneshot a lot. Read here at mangadex.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

what am i to you | pablo gavi [part ii]

🌧️ synopsis: In an attempt to get over Pablo, you go on a date, only to end up in the hospital with a sprained ankle. When Pablo shows up uninvited, trying to take care of you, the moment turns into a full-blown fight. tags: angst, unrequited love, emotional tension. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2.5k words)

you can read the first part here.

After the confession, you both said you'd stay in each other's lives, like nothing had changed. You promised. But promises, you realize, are easier said than kept.

The calls become even rarer, and when they do come, they’re awkward, halting. He used to be the first person you’d call when you were bored, the one you’d go to when you needed to vent or laugh, and now? Now you just… don’t.

That’s when you meet him – this other guy. He’s nice, funny enough, interested. And he’s not Pablo. You don’t have butterflies, but there’s a kind of safety in that, a relief in the way he looks at you with no expectations, no memories weighing you down. So when he asks you out, you say yes, not because you’re excited, but because you’re desperate to move forward, to stop feeling like you’re stuck in that moment when Pablo said, “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want.”

The night of the date, you’re almost ready when your phone rings. It’s Pablo, and your heart jumps, he hasn’t called in weeks, and it’s like he knew, like he somehow sensed that you were trying to step away from him for good.

You answer, trying to sound normal. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice distant, like he’s not sure if he’s intruding. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep it casual. You’re trying to decide between two different shoes for the date, and it feels wrong. “I guess we’ve both been… busy.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. But you’re not about to get into that now. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, all dressed up, ready to leave.

“Actually,” you interrupt, “I’m kind of in a hurry. I have… plans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can almost picture the look on his face – confused, caught off guard. “Plans?” he asks, and you can hear an edge in his voice now, one he’s trying to hide. “Like… a date?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to sound like it’s not a big deal. “I’m going out with someone.”

“With who?”

“Just… someone I met,” you say, trying to brush it off, “We’ve only talked a couple of times.”

There’s silence, and you’re about to check if he’s still on the line when he says, “So that’s what you’re doing now? Just going out with random guys?”

You get defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, his anger leaking into his words. “It’s just… you’re already –” He stumbles over the words, his voice tight. “Is that what you want now?”

“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling the heat rise in your face. “You’re the one who –” You stop yourself because you promised you wouldn’t do this. You wouldn't blame him. But he doesn’t make it easy.

He lets out a bitter laugh, and it cuts deeper than you’d like to admit. “No, go ahead. Say it.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lash back. “I miss you,” you say.

“It doesn’t look like you do,” he says quietly, and there’s a hurt there you didn’t expect. 

Your chest tightens, and you can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes. “Pablo, you stopped calling,” you say, your voice breaking. “You left me here alone, what was I supposed to do?”

He doesn’t respond right away, and you wish you could see his face, wish you could understand what’s going through his mind. “I just… I thought we’d be okay,” he says finally, his voice sounding defeated. “That we’d get through this. Together.”

You take a shaky breath. “I thought so too,” you admit. There’s a silence that stretches on, heavy and suffocating.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, “have fun on your date.” And then he hangs up before you can say another word, leaving you staring at your reflection, feeling like you’ve lost him all over again.

part 2

The date wasn’t going great, you didn’t have much in common with the guy, and things got even worse. One minute you’re walking across the street after dinner, pretending to laugh at some lame joke he made, and the next, your ankle twists under you, the pain shooting up your leg like a lightning bolt. You try to catch yourself, but you land hard, knees buckling beneath you.

The guy freaks out, asking if you're okay, but all you can focus on is the pulsing pain in your ankle. You're pretty sure it's sprained, but you're too embarrassed to admit it right away. He helps you up, practically carrying you to the nearest bench, and that's when you finally let yourself wince in pain.

A trip to the hospital later and you’re sitting in one of those sterile, white rooms, cradling your swollen ankle in your lap. Nothing too serious, just a sprain, but it’s enough to make you feel like an idiot. The guy’s hovering by the door, looking uncomfortable, like he wants to leave but doesn't know how. You can’t blame him. The awkwardness between you is palpable, and this was supposed to be a fun night.

You’re ready to get out of there, but you don't want to be alone for the discharge process. The guy’s already looking at his phone like he’s counting the minutes. So, you make a decision.

You pull out your phone, thinking of someone nearby, someone who won’t make things more awkward. Aurora. You don’t really want to call her, but she lives in the neighborhood, and you can’t stand the idea of sitting here with the date guy. It's nothing against him – well, maybe it is, but you really just need a friend right now.

You hit call, and it rings a few times before she picks up, her voice bright and concerned.

“Hey, what’s up? You good?”

“I’m at the hospital,” you say quickly, the words sounding so much worse than they feel. “I sprained my ankle on the date, can you come? Please?”

Aurora doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m on my way.” You end the call, grateful she’s coming, and feeling a lot better knowing someone familiar will be here soon.

A few minutes later, the door swings open. You expect it to be Aurora, but when you look up, you freeze.

Pablo stands there, his eyes wide with concern, his posture stiff. And right next to him, Aurora is visibly cringing, her face flushed red. She’s holding her hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t mean to –” she starts, but Pablo cuts her off.

“Are you okay?” His voice is frantic, as if you’re on the brink of death instead of sitting there with a sprained ankle.

You blink, taken aback by how he’s acting.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little too forcefully, but the last thing you need right now is to be treated like a patient. “Just a sprain. Nothing serious.”

Pablo doesn’t look convinced. He steps into the room, eyes scanning your ankle. He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to argue with him when he’s looking at you like that.

Aurora stands off to the side, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry, I called him,” she whispers. “I thought you’d want him to know.”

“Really?” you ask, a little irritated now, because it’s clear Pablo doesn’t know how to handle this. You’re still pissed at him for the phone call earlier, but now? Now it feels like he’s intruding, even though you’re happy to see him, just not like this.

Pablo, still standing too close, suddenly shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know, I just… I thought I should be here,” he says, his voice a little quieter, like he’s realizing how ridiculous he’s being.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously. I’m just waiting to be discharged.”

Before you can say anything else, the date guy clears his throat. You turn to see him stepping forward.

"Um, should I leave?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, trying to be polite but also clearly uncomfortable now that Pablo’s here. Pablo, who’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re dying, shifts his eyes to the guy standing by the door.

“Who even are you?” Pablo’s tone is confused, but there's also a sharpness to it now, something territorial. It doesn’t make sense, but you can feel the weirdness between them.

You open your mouth, about to explain, but Pablo cuts you off.

“Is that the guy you just had a date with?” His eyes rake over him. "Yeah, you can leave now. I got it." He waves him off, voice firm and final, like he’s the one in charge here.

“Pablo, what the hell?” you snap. Your blood’s boiling, you look over at the date guy, who’s still standing there like he’s waiting for a command. “Yeah, you can go now,” you say, softer, sweeter than Pablo, but the sentiment’s the same. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Pablo scoffs, and it’s the kind of sound that tells you he’s annoyed, but it’s also kind of funny, considering he’s the one who’s ruining the moment. You’re not sure if he’s jealous or if he’s just being an idiot, but it pisses you off all the same.

Once the date guy leaves, the silence between you and Pablo is loud. You cross your arms, staring at him like you’re daring him to keep pushing.

“Well, now you can leave!” you say, voice cool, as you face him. 

Pablo doesn't budge, though. "And how are you going home?" He sounds offended, like you’ve done something wrong by even suggesting that he should leave.

You roll your eyes. “Aurora can take me,” you mutter, already tired of the back-and-forth.

Pablo’s face twitches like he’s winning the argument. “I drove Aurora here,” he says, smug. Like the fact that he’s the one with the car makes him the one in control now.

Your eyes narrow, but deep down, you know you’ve got no choice. “Fine,” you grumble, defeated.

part 3

Pablo’s arms are strong, but his touch is gentle as he picks you up, carrying you bridal style like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are steady as he lifts you, his face close to yours, it makes you feel like you're back in that place where everything between you two was simple. But that’s not the reality anymore, is it?

He doesn’t say a word as he carries you to the couch, setting you down so gently it’s almost too much. You want to tell him to back off, to let you handle it, but you catch something in his eyes that stops you – he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, and you can’t deal with that, not right now.

“It’s just a sprain,” you say, but your voice cracks halfway through, and you hate yourself for it. You hate how kind he’s being, how his touch makes everything hurt even more.

Pablo shakes his head. “I miss you too,” he says, his voice low, almost broken. It’s a call back to the phone call, to what you said earlier, and it’s like he’s holding onto those words for dear life.

Your heart feels like it’s about to shatter. “Then let me go,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “We can’t be friends if I’m in love with you, you idiot.”

He’s closer now, wiping the tears from your cheek, his hand lingering longer than it should. He’s too close, and you’re drowning in it. But you let him stay because, in some twisted way, it’s all you have left of him.

“Don’t go on dates with idiots,” he says, his voice is exasperated. “You don’t need them. You just need to be with me, and we can make it work. We can go back to how it was. I promise.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the tears that just won’t quit. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean no one else will,” you say, the words bitter on your tongue. “Don’t act like I can’t find someone who can make me happy.”

Pablo’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You’re just doing this to get back at me, and you know it.”

You almost laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not trying to get back at you, I’m trying to move on. I can’t keep pretending we’re okay.”

“You don’t need someone else,” he says through gritted teeth, his hand clenched into a fist. “You never needed anyone else. You’ve always had me.”

“Not anymore,” you snap, your anger flaring. “I don’t have you anymore! You’ve shut me out like nothing happened!”

His eyes flash, he steps closer, his hand reaching out for you, but you flinch back, afraid of how close he is, afraid of what it means. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice so small. “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you say, your whole body trembling. “You just had to stay.”

His face falls, and for a second, you almost reach out to him. But you stop yourself. “I want my best friend back,” he says, his voice cracking.

“You don’t get that,” you shout, the words rushing out. “You can’t pretend I’m the same person I was before any of this happened. I’m not!”

“I don’t care!” His voice rises, raw and desperate. “I don’t care if it’s different, I just want you in my life. I don’t know what to do without you.”

You pull away. “You can’t keep saying that.”

He looks at you, devastated. He’s leaning closer now, his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin. It’s like he’s pretending nothing’s changed, pretending this is how things always were.

“Pablo –"

You push against his chest, the tears running down your face now, uncontrollable. “Please, just leave,” you say, your voice shaking, but you mean it.

You’ve had enough. You’re done.

But Pablo just looks at you, he doesn’t move, doesn’t leave, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s not going to listen.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breaking. "Just go."

Pablo’s hand brushes his own cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t realized fell. He speaks like he's trying to convince himself more than you. “I’ll come back,” he says. “To check on your injury, make sure you’re better.”

He looks away quickly. “I’ll take care of you... like you took care of me.” His words hang in the air, painfully.

You watch him go, every step tearing at you. As the door closes, you stare at it for a second, your body tensing as if it’s about to snap in two. And then you can’t take it anymore. You reach for the nearest pillow, throwing it at the door with every ounce of anger you’ve been holding inside.

“Idiot!” you scream, everything hurts – your heart, your head, your stupid, stupid tears.

You sit there, staring at the door, feeling the ache spread through your chest. It hits you like a punch – you haven’t touched him, haven’t held him in over a month. It feels like the end of everything, and it’s crushing you.

You curl up on the couch, hugging yourself, wishing things could go back to how they were before everything went wrong. But they can’t. All you have is the emptiness he left behind, and it’s swallowing you whole.

[monabee-draws]

There are too many things to say about Act 3 but one truth is that Episode 7 is the best episode in the season. And I mean in terms of a complete, narrative arc in one episode. There are plenty of absolutely perfect scenes and moments in other episodes (Isha's scene in ep 6, Jayce and Viktor's final reconcilliation) but wow was 7 the best written episode overall.

The Ekko/Heimer plot:

- Explores the beauty of a world entirely uncorrupted by the Hextech dream because this Powder chose to close the power away in a drawer.

- We watch Heimerdinger see the fruit of what his work might have done if he didn't dig his head in the sand for decades. It is blissful inaction and lack of compassion that kills. It is the maintenance of the status quo by those who benefit from it that kills. It is the entire false dream of Piltover that kills. And it can be changed, but only if those in power recognise their own hubris.

- Heimerdinger's death foreshadow's Jayce and Viktor's as well. He chooses to 'evaporate' into the Arcane so that the younger generation can try again, and make up for his mistakes. His brand of scientific omniscia did not work, and neither will jayvik's.

- The sister's tragedy persists in every universe. Vi and Jinx never get to be together no matter how perfect things could have gone. Vander warns our Vi that the kids will always follow her lead, and its on her head if things go wrong. Their Vi paid that price for them. She saved Mylo, Claggor, Vander and Powder. But there will always be a loss somewhere. There is no perfect world.

- Powder/Jinx was never going to be happy staying in Zaun and always needed to be free beyond other people's wants for her/their protectiveness/the cycle of violence. This foreshadows her imagined conversation with Silco and her flight at the end of episode 9 (she's alive I'm sorry.)

- Ekko learns to reconcile his vision of freedom with the imperfect nature of his own world (a very necessary lesson for a time traveler), a realisation that also foreshadow's future Viktor's realisation that perfection isn't good actually.

-> overall, this half teaches us Jayce's lesson about the importance and beauty of imperfection, of freedom of will, and going beyond the will of others. It's a perfect microcosm of the story as a whole, and expertly sets up every other character's choices in the end. Not to mention the literal time travel device ends up saving the world. That small imperfection - "That device cannot be" - is what sets everyone free.

For Jayce's story:

- Se see that Viktor's beautiful commune was always a lie, and all of the people he 'healed' were already dead at his hands. Hextech was never going to save anybody. The dream was tainted from the beginning.

- Jayce's resillience and agency grow and recover beyond what we see of him in season 1. He takes real accountability for his actions for the first time. The sheer spread of the consequences contradicts Jayce's insistence that they thought of every countermeasure. This entire sequence destabilises his (and Viktor's) images as gifted scientists whose intellect is equivalent to omniscience. They too are blinded by the same folly of Piltover's elite - their superiority is finally and thoroughly challenged in an indisputable way.

- His injury and leg brace level him with Viktor in a way that is crucial visual language for their later reconcilliation and Jayce's speech about accepting flaws in the finale. The fact that it is his Hextech hammer that breaks his leg is even more important - more evidence of the corruption of their dream, and of violence not being the correct solution.

- The scope of the dead world needed to be explored for us to understand how bad of an apocalypse we risk facing such that Zaun and Piltover cooperating could even be conceivable despite Caitlyn and Ambessa's fascist campaigns tearing the cities apart. The audience needs to have that disbelief suspended, and those scenes achieve that. In-story the cooperation between cities is still unbelievable, but this episode succeeds at making it understandable from a meta-perspective. We know what lies beneath the mask.

-> Overall, this half reinforces the themes of glorious imperfection, but also helps better set the stage for the audience to suspend their disbelief later on. And, it very importantly reminds us that no one character in Arcane has ever or will ever be 'correct' about the best path to move forward. It must always be a collaborative effort, and when we forget that, we forget ourselves, and we doom the world to a twisted vision.

[kitcatia]

Imagine if Emma was conceived or even born while ciphertology was in its height (this would paint some... interesting implications about her parentage.) I like Hana Hyperfixates' time-line and if we just sale for the sake of making math easier that Emma, fidds and the twins are all the same age, she'd be born in 1951 and be 1 year old when the cult started. The could very plausibly be a little bit younger or older than That though

Or if she was very a young girl while her parents and relatives joined, and she'd have extremely vague memories about it all. Maybe they'd never talk about it after the cult is disbanded, and she just thinks it was a reoccurring childhood nightmare until she finds out about Bill post-weirdmageddon.

If she was born right after if was all over, I could imagine her name (emma-may) being an homage to Emmaline Butternubbins, and that would paint her family as happy that all that madness is over

Maybe it's just the southernness. But I love how Madeline, emmaline and emma-may all sound so much like each other,

I love all the moving parts this information offers us. How would the dixons cope with the disbanding of the cult? Maybe just Madeline (I'm imagining her as either an older sister or an aunt on the younger side) joined while Emma's parents watched in terror.

Or maybe they all joined and still believe in Bill and worship him even after the cult disbanded, and Emma was raised "ciphertologist". Given Emma seems to be a very reasonable and no-nonsense girl, I can totally imagine her growing to dislike it as she got older. As a fiddauthor shipper I think fiddleford has a type for smart people, so Emma is probably inquisitive and rational and wouldn't want to live her whole life like that. Maybe marrying fiddleford and moving to Palo alto was a desperate gamble on her end to get away from her family as quickly as possible, hold onto some semblance of normality and leave that life of cults and secrets. This would really shed a new light in their divorce, because a marriage like this really would have started on a shaky base (bonus points if you're working with the Fidds is Gay school of thought as well.)

Maybe the dixons were like the weirdos around town, the family that came to Tennessee from kansas under mysterious circumstances. The family rumored to secretly worship the devil in this mostly Christian community (fidds seems to be Christian to some degree after all). Maybe fiddleford was like the only kid that wasn't afraid of befriending Emma, given he's probably an outcast too for his love of science and all that. Maybe through fiddleford's kindness and friendship, Emma decided that science and logic and all these things her family belittled, they can't be all bad if fiddleford loves them so much. And emma would scare fidds' bullies by threatening to do weird devil magic shit to them. Maybe they made plans as little kids to run away together, to a place where he could build robots and computers without being bullied and she wouldn't have anyone lying or keeping secrets from her.

If Emma stayed in Tennessee while fidds went to BMU, it must have been a pretty scary phase of her life. Without her best only friend slash maybe boyfriend she'd probably feel very alone. And her family could be starting to get an inkling of the idea that she plans on marrying fidds and bailing as soon as he graduated. Maybe those never even planned on getting married but had to so Emma's next of kin would be fiddleford and not her parents.

But if emma actually pursued any form of specialization, i have this silly headcanon that, given Bill dismantled all forms of Healthcare in billvile, I love the notion of Emma becoming a nurse or even a doctor.

👁‍🗨Ciphertology & The Dixons👁‍🗨

Sooooo…Emma May’s family was involved in a cult, right? Let me elaborate. As a fellow creative I have been known on many occasions to forget details big and small about my own world, but names? No, names are never something I tend to duplicate unless for a very specific thematic or world building reason. So color me stoked when I was curiously learning about Bill’s cult arc in the 1950’s and found one of his first followers was a young girl with the surname, you guessed it, Dixon!!

Considering Alex Hirsch is very purposeful with things and little hints, while also leaving the audience to figure things out for themselves while he sits back and laughs, I can’t help but feel the surname Dixon is a bit TOO coincidental in this instance. From what we see, Ciphertology and the followers were a mash of a bunch of real life cult references while doing the usual Hirsch thing of filtering Bill into a concept perfectly well.

All in all it’s a very interesting thing, but what I found more interesting were the people involved. Sure you have the puppet leader, Silas Birchtree and a bunch of other out there names, but amongst sits a simple ‘Madeline Dixon’….. Alex Hirsch I’m going to screAM :D

From what we learn, after the cult is forcibly disbanded by the US government and every trace of the town is wiped off of maps and history books, the people are spread throughout the country and given opportunities to start life over again. Not everyone followed that however and some continued to follow the Bill Cipher cult. And honestly I can’t help finding myself bouncing back to the very concept that is-

What if Emma May Dixon grew up in a recovering cult family? What if her family still believed in the cults teachings like some and practiced it in secret at home? And if that is true how am I meant to feel towards the idea that her future husband, Fiddleford McGucket, would become a cult leader himself all because of the very thing that was the foundation of her own cultish upbringing?

Honestly if that’s what Alex was shooting for, I’m calling him a genius cause that’s such a fascinating idea to work with. The concept that Bill has personally affected and rooted himself so deeply into the show and it’s characters that even those we don’t get to see still have dealt with him to some degree.

It just all feels too perfect too. The surname Dixon implies enough, thanks to Alex’s upfront and to the point naming, that Emma May too is a southerner like her husband. Or at the very least she’s in that farmy side of the country. And where did Ciphertology come from? Orchard Lake, Kansas. Madeline Dixon very well could be Emma May’s aunt or older sister considering the cult began in 1952. And assuming Em’s the same age as Fiddleford and the Stan twins then we can assume vaaaaageuly that she’d be born in 1955. Meaning she’d be either growing up in that recovering environment or indoctrinated into it.

We can assume well enough then that she didn’t follow the cults teachings considering she seems well adjusted with her family, living in Palo Alto, but it also kinda reaffirms why she’d be so quick to throw divorce on the table once she sees Fiddleford’s memory wiped condition. That on top of we can only assume his behavior was alarming and erratic and a far cry from the personality of her husband that she was used to (especially when you consider bRO made a homicidal pterodactyl robot because he was so distraught and upset towards the idea of being divorced..like yeah man..that might solidify her decision my guy..)

But if she ever saw the symbol of Bill’s eye or anything in relation to him anywhere in Gravity Falls?? Especially the Society of the Blind eye symbol spray painted all over? After either learning to fear Bill or worship him in her upbringing depending on what their family did after the cult was disbanded? I wouldn’t blame her for high tailing it out of there and worrying for her and her sons life- (Fiddleford..Emma May..I am your biggest fans, but y’all have me bonkers sometimes) But also consider how most ex cult members naturally want to give the very opposite traumatic life that they lived to their child? If Emma May were to see semblances of what she relates to Ciphertology in Gravity Falls, I don’t have a hard time believing she was getting tF out of there for the sake of Tate’s well being & future

In short- hi, I now believe Emma May’s family was in a cult and the very idea of that will ruminate with me for awhile :D But also double hi?? Madeline DIxon looks vaguely similar to how I envisioned and draw my Emma May design? Coincidence, I think nOT :P

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

You've always been my favorite

Yandere!Jonathan Levy x f!reader

Cw/triggers: Stalking, possessive behavior, darkfic, Jonathan masturbates to porn, twisted thoughts, some dub-con/non-con thoughts on Jonathan's side, yandere themes.

A/n: I'm sorry for potentially traumatizing you.

Summary: Jonathan is your new professor. But he had his eyes on you for a long time.

After your professor has quit, a new one, Jonathan Levy was quick in replacement.

You knew Jonathan Levy. He was the one jumping in if some of your other professors were sick. Though you didn't think much of him, he on the other hand quickly began to like you a little too much, even for his own good. He became a bit attached to you to say the least.

Jonathan was the professor teaching most things, so he was the one you did see mostly during class.

"I hope you all are prepared for out big exam coming up in one hour." Jonathan said shortly after entering the room, not bothering to look if anyone is missing, placing his bag down beside his desk.

After he sat comfortable in his seat, adjusting his glasses, Jonathan looked around the class.

Two people were missing, but one of them called in sick, the other one still missing were you.

Just as Jonathan thought about the possibilities of what could be, the door opened and you stumbled in with a thermos in hand.

"You're late..." he said with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Sorry," you replied bluntly, "I've overslept a bit."

After you were back in your seat, Jonathan cleared his throat and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

"Alright everybody, get comfy, get your books out if you haven't already and get prepared. I'll give you one hour."

Jonathan watched the class, his eyes however were fixed on you as he nonchalantly opened his book then started reading himself.

Throughout the hour, Jonathan threw occasional glances towards you, he liked seeing you concentrate, but even more when you pay attention to him.

When the time finally came to hand out his exams, he made sure you were the last one to receive it only so he could say good luck while being close to you without making himself look suspicious, especially not towards you.

Jonathan wondered how you were doing but had no doubt in your knowledge. He knew you could do well, and if not, he was there to help you.

After the exam was done and everyone handed them back to Jonathan, he overheard you and a friend talking about staying late for study in the library after class, his ears perked up and he had to stop himself from smiling.

When the class ended, Jonathan packed his things. He knew the library would ultimately close in 3 hours, and you would likely stay until the end. So he made his way into his office, open his laptop and just browse around. He even stalked your social media accounts.

Jonathan took his time to start correcting some of the exams, until he finally got everything together to make a leave but not before passing the library just as you and that one friend walked out.

Lucky for him, you two parted ways. Jonathan usually isn't one for stalking, but you were an exception for him. Though he already had an excuse made up in his mind if you did actually catch him.

While you walked, you were completely oblivious on Jonathan walking behind you at a good distance. He kept his head low and his hands in his pockets. Sure he knew where you lived but he wanted to make sure you'd arrive there safely. It would be a shame if something would happen to you.

By the time you arrived home, Jonathan thought about how he could rig your exam, just so he could see you more whether it would be some actual private tutoring or maybe after class, preferably alone. Oh how he would love that.

But he was a fair man, and wouldn't normally want to... abuse his job for... personal needs. But Jonathan was ready for a few exceptions.

Jonathan was ready to leave and call it a day, but not before looking back at your house, examining it from afar.

He didn't know much about break ins, but he could watch some tutorials online on how to do it professional. With a quick go to the darknet, he would surely find something...

As Jonathan arrived back home, he decided to correct those exams first so the boring part would be out of the way. He wasn't tired, if anything, he felt kind of energized.

Jonathan reviewed your exam at last, only so he could write down where you need most help and where you'd be okay. After the correcting was done, Jonathan went to his computer, firstly visiting his go-to porn site after a long and mostly boring day. But you weren't part of the boring part, you were always the highlight.

After browsing though cheap scripted and bad acting ones, he finally found a good looking one for a quick stress relief.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled his semi-hard cock out, working himself up with slow strokes while watching the video.

As the pleasure built up, he couldn't help but let his mind wander off to you, how you're always pay attention to him, not questioning his authority as your professor while also being his good student.

He stroked faster, spreading the leaking precum around the tip and shaft while tightening his fist. Jonathan knew he could just easily bend you over his desk and have his way with you however he pleased.

His thoughts even went as far as bending you over his knees and spanking you then fucking you stupid on his desk as punishment.

Regardless of what his mind came up with, it always ended up fucking you. Imagining things such as having you suck him off while he's in the middle of class, or eating you out while you're reading a goddamn book.

Closing his eyes and leaning back, listening to the moans of that girl in the video, imagining how this would be you moaning when he's having you. And he will have you one day.

As badly as Jonathan wanted to hold his impending orgasm back, thinking about all the nasty things he wanted to do to you he couldn't resist chasing his peak.

"Fuck, how good it would feel to have you wrapped around me," he squeezed his cock again "whether you like it or not."

Jonathan's breathing hitched before becoming heavier.

"Mmm, but I'm certain you would love getting fucked by me, even if you wouldn't admit it, baby."

With one last stroke he came hard, spilling his cum on the ground. He threw his head back against the chair, his cock softening in the grip of his fist.

After he was done, he shut down his computer, grabbed a wet rag and cleaned his cum off the ground before he went to bed.

The next day, his day passed quickly, mainly because most of his attention was drawn to you. You looked so happy with the results of your exam. You deserved it, being the good student that you are and the cherry on top, even unknown to you, being his favorite.

Jonathan had approached you, asking if you could stay for a couple minutes after class for a quick discussion about the results of your recent exam.

After everyone was out of the room, Jonathan leaned against the desk and crossed his arms while you were still sitting at your place.

"So," he started, uncrossing his arms to walk over to you, leaning down with his hands on the edges of your desk. "You did good mostly. But in order to pass this good, you have to be good in any of these, not just one. They all count."

You nodded. "I understand."

"And I'm not doing this to torture you, I hope you know that. I just want what's best for you." Jonathan said in a lower and slightly huskier tone, looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

He pushed himself off of your table, moving back to lean against his with his arms crossed again. "What I'm trying to say here is that I'm willing to help you."

"I know. But I hate asking people to throw their time away because of me. I will study more from now on, I promise." you replied.

Jonathan smiled. "That's good to hear." he knew you would try giving your best, but what kind of professor would he be if he wouldn't offer his help to his student?

"Well, you can go now, I'd hate to take your precious freetime away."

You gave a gentle smile, grabbing your bag and stood up. "Thanks Mr. Levy, have a good day." you said before making your leave.

After you've left, Jonathan let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

Back at his home, Jonathan had atleast half his mind being busy on you. He couldn't help it, why was he even acting like that? He didn't know either, but does he want to stop? Absolutely not.

Jonathan was even at the point where he didn't care about good senses anymore, that's how far he'd go for you.

What he did next was wait for nighttime to come, then he went out going to your house. Breaking into your home was relatively easy, but he still hoped you would be in deep slumber already.

It didn't take him long to find your bedroom, he sneaked into your room like a cat, already loving how he could just sneak in without you noticing anything.

He had to stop himself from wanting to search through some of your belongings, feeling way more bold now that he was in your house.

Of course his eyes were trained on you, he didn't want you to wake up and alert the whole neighborhood with your screaming.

Jonathan crouched down at your bedside, simply admiring your peaceful, unaware and beautiful sleeping face.

He reached out, pulling your covers off just a tiny bit, revealing more of you. Leaning in, he closed his eyes, enjoying the smell of everything you had on you. His fingertips glid carefully along the curve of your neck.

Jonathan felt so at peace with finally being so close to you, albeit if you're sleeping.

"It won't take long until you're mine, sweetheart."

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

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@krakenkitty @mooksmouse @klillaah @faretheeoscar @alexxavicry

Wanna get tagged?

[m4rv3l-girl]

hi!!! I love ur fics sm and I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is struggling with either ptsd or depression or something and they self harm and bucky walks in on them and cleans them up and comforts them and basically tells them it's not their fault ❤️❤️❤️

The Weight You Carry

Bucky x Y/N

Note: Thank you so much for your request, it is so valued! The topic of this one is obviously heavy and I (very fortunately) haven’t had any close contact with a situation like this. Due to the sensitive nature of the request - I have made the decision not to include any scenes of self-harm. This is something I’ve chosen to do because I would hate to write something unrealistic, harmful or content that will contribute to misconceptions. It’s simply not a subject I am well enough educated or experienced in to do it justice in writing. I’ve tried to stick to what you asked as much as possible, it includes the hurt/comfort themes, some clear emotional trauma and ellusions to past self harm but I have deliberately not included it in this fic. Thanks again, I hope you still enjoy! 🫶

Warnings: Depression. Trauma. Hurt/Comfort.

The bathroom was silent except for Y/N’s ragged breaths and the muffled sounds of her quiet sobs. The kind of silence that felt loud in her ears, reverberating against the cold, tiled walls. The mirror above the sink reflected a warped version of herself—puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and a trembling lower lip she couldn’t quite get under control.

Her hands gripped the edge of the porcelain sink like it was the only thing keeping her upright, the sharp bite of the rim pressing into her palms grounding her in a reality that felt too heavy to bear. She was suffocating under the weight of everything she couldn’t name, couldn’t fix, and couldn’t stop. It was a storm inside her head, a mess of guilt, fear, and exhaustion, swirling endlessly, consuming every bit of light she tried to hold onto.

This wasn’t new. She’d been fighting it for months—years, even. But tonight was one of the bad nights, the kind that snuck up on her, blindsiding her after a day that had been so deceptively normal. That was the cruel thing about it; it never gave her any warning. One moment she was fine, and the next, she was unraveling.

She hadn’t meant to end up here, curled up on the cold bathroom floor, her knees pulled to her chest, her forehead resting against them as she tried to hold herself together. She’d told herself she was just going to splash some water on her face, to take a minute to breathe. But the second she’d locked the door behind her, the dam had broken, and she’d crumpled.

A quiet knock at the door jolted her.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, hesitant but unmistakably familiar. Her chest tightened at the sound of it, her tears momentarily forgotten as she froze in place.

It was Bucky. Of course it was.

She didn’t answer, holding her breath as if staying silent would somehow make him go away. She couldn’t let him see her like this—broken, weak, and barely holding on. He didn’t need to deal with her mess on top of everything he carried himself.

“Doll?” His voice came again, quieter this time but no less concerned.

The nickname made her chest ache. He always said it with so much affection, like it was his way of reminding her how much he cared, how much she meant to him. But tonight, it felt like too much—too heavy, too undeserved.

“I know you’re in there,” he said after a beat of silence. His voice was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

“Go away, Bucky,” she finally croaked, her voice barely audible and hoarse from crying.

There was a pause, and for a brief moment, she thought he might actually listen. But then she heard him sigh, the kind of deep, weary sigh that spoke of his own struggles, his own battles.

“Sweetheart, I’m not leaving you like this,” he said gently.

She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m fine,” she lied, the words shaky and unconvincing.

“You’re not,” he replied softly. There was no judgment in his tone, only a quiet determination.

She heard the faint jingle of keys, and her heart sank. Of course, he had the spare key. She’d given it to him months ago when things weren’t as bad, trusting him to use it only if she really needed him.

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open slowly. She didn’t look up, too ashamed to face him.

Bucky stepped inside, his frame filling the small doorway. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. She could feel his gaze, heavy with concern, and it only made her want to shrink further into herself.

“Y/N…” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly.

“Please, don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

But he was already moving, kneeling down in front of her with a slow, deliberate gentleness that made her heart ache. He didn’t reach for her immediately, instead settling onto the floor a few feet away, giving her the space she so desperately needed.

“I’m here,” he said simply.

Those two words unraveled her completely.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked softly, his brows furrowing.

“For being like this,” she choked out, her hands shaking as she wiped at her face. “For being so…broken.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, with a steadiness that made her heart clench, he said, “You’re not broken, Y/N.”

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and painful. “Then why do I feel like I am?”

“Because you’ve been carrying too much,” he said simply, his voice steady and sure. “And you’ve been doing it alone.”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she finally looked up at him. His blue eyes were filled with a quiet intensity, a depth of understanding that only someone who had been through their own hell could offer.

“It’s not your fault,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. “None of this is your fault.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he shook his head, cutting her off gently.

“Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you’re going through, it doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you a burden. It makes you human. And I a human too, one that hurts just as much.”

Her tears came faster, harder, and she didn’t resist when he reached out, his hand brushing against hers.

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice softening. “You don’t have to do this alone, Doll. Let me be here for you, the way you’ve been there for me.”

Her resolve crumbled, and she leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around her. His embrace was warm and steady, a safe haven in the midst of her storm.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But can figure it out. One step at a time.”

And for the first time in a long time, she felt a little bit less alone.

——————————————————————————————————

Requests Open!

[the-moons-tears]

Scar (wuwa) x reader NSFW

A beast, a man, or both?

Hey guys! From the poll, you guys voted for the hunting thing the most, so here it is! It’s not completelyyy nsfw, but I’ll go ahead and mark it as that. More notes at the end of the work!

Edit: I’m gonna go back and finish the actual nsfw part bc I’ve got time and feel motivated enough to do it so stay tuned!

Preview:

“What are you?” You breathlessly got out, swallowing hard.

“Yours~” he answered back, leaning down to press kisses to the exposed flesh of your chest.

It was ironic, a lamb intimidating you, a hunter. You moved into the woods a couple of weeks ago, settling into a shabby cabin. Hours of work turned it into a quaint house, lively and perfect, just for you. Being alone in the woods wasn’t bad at all. The sounds of the tall pines swaying from a breeze and the creatures crushing the leaves under their feet, it was all…right, perfect. You wondered if those rumors were just paranoid tales. I mean, a giant goat-like figure? Stalking these woods in search of something?

You scoff to yourself as you kick the back door open with your shoe, yeah right,. In your arms is a bucket, empty, but by the time you come back, it’s always full. The dirt and soil compact under your steps, marking a trail of footprints leading away from your house. A gun is slung around your back, typically there as precaution, but sometimes you spot a good rabbit or squirrel.

You have yet to see a deer, and the only time you did see one was a mutilated corpse that looked like a bear had sunk its teeth into it. It was rather gruesome, and looked fairly recent. A few couple days were spent in the woods looking for any signs of a bear, but you never found anything.

Crouching down, you cut some edible mushroom from a patch that grew frequently. The moist environment mixed well where the spores tended to land in. From what you could gather in the plentiful forest, you could make some pretty exquisite meals. Soups and other things that keep you healthy and full. The mushrooms filled quite a big part of your basket, so before it got too full you decided to make a few trips to the other places you gathered from.

There was a small grove a little ways away from there, giving many hanging fruits that you really liked. You had buckets placed underneath several of them, catching the fallen fruit when you weren’t there to pick them. Inspecting each fruit, you placed them in your basket until it was near full. A rustling caught your attention, only to be a tiny creature dashing out from a bush.

The bush was new, growing little berries you hadn’t seen before. You wrapped some of them in a cloth in case they were poisonous, waiting to get home to test them and see. With a now full basket, you adjust your gun and set off back home. You’ve traveled the forest so many times that you know your way around and doubt that you would ever get lost.

While on the treck back, you feel strange. The air smells different, ashy. Thoughts race for a second, worried that there might be a forest fire, but that’s practically impossible with huanglong’s provisions and safety measures. With a furrow of your brow, you continue back, eventually making it so your front door once again.

As you approach, you notice a gift on one of your outside tables. You had been getting those ever since you came. Small trinkets and things. You kept them, knowing that crows sometimes did such things as well as other animals. They all went into a little box of random things. Some of those gifts were strung together to make a little necklace that you wore everyday.

You're able to get the latch open, holding it open with your back pressed to it as you walk inside with your new gift in hand. The basket is set down on a large table inside, light pouring in from your little window. You set everything out, putting fruits away and preparing mushrooms for later use. Briefly, you check on your hanging herbs and self grown vegetables before heading out once again to investigate that weird smell.

The gun is still on you, making you feel secure as you try to follow a source of a smell. No smoke, no fleeing flocks or animals, and no heat anywhere. Where’s it coming from?

You end up walking quite a way from the house, still having no luck. About to give up, you turn around, but are suddenly frozen where you stand. All forest chatter ceased immediately, the smell of ash overwhelming your nose. The chittering of animals in the trees stopped, the noises of flying bugs quieted. No bird flew, and all life seemed to have vanished. You could hear your heart beating. They were all hiding from something, and it was painfully obvious you were in clear sight to whatever it was.

Swallowing, your wide eyes scan the area, trying to see anything, hands oh so gently grabbing your shotgun around. Hairs on your neck and arms were raised, and anxiety settled in. You had the power to shoot whatever it was, but there was a nagging dread that weighed down the thought.

With light steps, you start backing up, preparing to make a run back to your house, where the trees are denser and easily navigated by you, giving you potential upper hand should whatever it is give chase. Your frantic eyes finally land on it, the thing that had been eyeing you for much longer.

It was terrifying, hiding still behind a tree with a large part of its body locked on you. Its face was like a skull, with the horns of a lamb or goat. From your distance, it easily surpassed your height, fur dirty with what was clearly blood. Muscular arms were scarred and battered like the rest of its body, impressive eyes like a demon’s. The way it seemed to smile at you, eyes clouded with some sort of twisted affection, made your blood run cold.

Your brain couldn’t process any sort of plan before the beast crushed the ground underneath it, running toward you at impossible speed. You ran immediately, not confident any sort of bullet would penetrate its hide. Those trees could give you cover from its more massive body, if you could get there in time.

The beast was deathly quiet aside from the thumping of its hooves on the forest earth. You don’t know how long it had been eyeing you, but you were in too much of a panic to think about anything other than escape. You could only hear your elated breathing, accompanied by the fast gaining strides of the thing hunting you down. Reaching a densely covered forest patch, you weave quickly through it, sliding down muddy hills and brush, giving a few cuts to your legs.

It seemed whatever it was was still trying to follow behind, tearing through trees to try and reach you. You had to stop for a moment, chest heaving and you slid down, adrenaline making your head spin and legs ache, feeling electric but so wobbly. It was a moment too long, because the beast burst in from the side, clawed hands grasping at you as tree shards flew in all directions. The thing was desperate to have you, and you were terrified to think of what it wanted, mind recalling the body of the deer.

You cried out and scrambled back, yells of terror ripping from your lungs. The gun was beneath you, pressing uncomfortably into your back. With claws grabbing and pulling, you couldn’t do anything, body moving against the soil and leaves.

Its face was close, eyes gleaming in pleasure as it moved on top of you. Your hands pushed against its skull, kicking legs not reaching its inverted goat ones. A purr like growl came from its throat, pressing itself close to you anyway it could. The fur was physically hot, and the overwhelming smell of ash returned.

The clawed hands restrained you at last, and quietly you cried, tears of fear falling to the dirt below, scared to even look at the thing above. It nuzzled you, vibrating hums and growls that traveled through your body. The beast kept doing that, not hurting you with its giant teeth or claws, just nuzzling. It was perplexing, the way it was…affectionate?

“What do you want from me…?” you whimpered out, words just spilling, although you doubted a beast like this could be sentient or in any way respond. The claws didn’t puncture you, merely keeping their hold on you to ensure you couldn’t leave. You almost came down from panic, but it only returned as a loud cracking came from the creature, back contorting and face spasming how the skull could. The beast was…becoming smaller.

You tried to scramble away, but the claws held you as they cracked, a low growl coming from the beast, menacing enough to diminish thoughts of escape. Closing your eyes from the disturbing bend of limbs, you prayed from your gut that you would get out of this alive. The weight of the claws had lifted slightly, legs finally bending forward to touch yours. Opening your eyes with uncertainty, you witnessed the last few seconds of transformation.

Its, or rather his, warped head finally settled into a scarred human face, eyes shifting from a goat’s to a male’s, two different colors staring at you. His body, scarred like his face, was sculpted and dirty, tattered red clothes hanging on his skin, covering what it needed to. Fur shifted into skin, and on his head silky strands of white with red appeared. The smile he gave as his body settled over you made you cry out, scared beyond anything.

The man leaned down, nuzzling once more to you, more boldly on your chest this time, jostling the necklace that lay there. A voice came from him, raspy and a sort of desperate want you couldn’t place.

“I knew you would wear them…my gifts led me to you and…and oh~ you smell so good…” his hands were tightening, making you wince and struggle. This was the rumored beast, surely. A shifting sort of goat creature that had most likely caused that horrible scene with the deer. The gun shifted below your back, making you grunt, hands trying to reach for it. Immediately he sat up, hips pinning you down as he reached down, smile changing into a deathly stare as he pulled the gun out and away.

That smile returned as he looked over the gun, chest and body shaking slightly as he laughed through his words, “y-you wanted to shoot me? Why would you do a thing like that?” You weren’t sure if he wanted an answer, too scared to give one anyway.

“My sweet delicate little mate,” his honeyed voice emphasized on the sweet and delicate, “you don’t need that, and you don’t need to be scared. You took my gifts of affection and I’ll-I’ll be gentle…so gentle…”

His hips were on yours, breathless pants coming from him as he towered over you, hands returning to your arms. “You’ll help me right? It-it came so much earlier than I’d thought, and you just walked right to me. You couldn’t have smelled my pheromones if you…if you hadn’t accepted my gifts.”

Looking at him, his lips were wet, lower lip being bitten by sharp canines as he looked at you with an evident lust, flush across his cheekbones. A shiver ran through you, mind running fast, realizing you couldn’t think of any escape. You saw how he tossed your gun away a few seconds ago, the metal bent out of shape so easily.

“What are you?” You breathlessly got out, swallowing hard.

“Yours~” he answered back, leaning down to press kisses to the exposed flesh of your chest. “And you’re mine…I’ll mark you, and maybe you'll…you’ll be full of me inside…I’ll make you full~” he began to rock himself into you, tongue trailing up your chest as he rambled.

He was hot, skin giving off feverish temperatures as he rubbed against you. “Please…please let me in your bed. I’ve seen you…and you just need me in it with you I know it…” The man beast whined out, eyes closing and lips glistening. Maybe it was the pheromones he was releasing, but he looked hot like that. Needy and desperate.

“Do…do you have a name?” You shakily get out, wondering if maybe you play civil, you could keep him from killing you, still unsure of his goal despite the strained fabric rubbing on your lower stomach. The look you received when you tried to grab your gun made you fear enough.

“Call me Scar, love, worthless dog…I’ll love anything you call me by. Please take me…it’s too hot.” his breath came out in pants, sweating scarred chest huffing in and out. You were conflicted. Here, he looked harmless, just a whimpering horny mess needy for you. The same man that threw your gun away, and hunted you a couple minutes ago in a horrid form.

He knew where you lived, planted gifts there that you absentmindedly strung into a necklace. You practically went looking for him, inviting him with the very gifts around your neck, making him go crazy. Breathes came out from you heavy as well, seeing the mess he was already making on your clothed stomach, not quite dripping down onto it yet. Scar bit his lips so hard a drop of blood flowed down his mouth, eyes locked on the necklace.

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you had become lonely, mentally trying to block out reality with your daily routine. You hadn’t felt touch in so long, and he seemed more than willing to please you if you didn’t refuse him. You moved out to be at peace, but it didn’t help with wanting a bit of romance in your life. Looking at him in the eyes finally, he smiled wildly from such a small interaction.

Giving in, the fear from moments ago gone, you whispered, “are you going to hurt me?” Ready to follow up after response.

“Ohh~ I would never hurt you…I’d-I’d tear apart anything that tried. I promise I’ll only love you…make you my mate.”

Swallowing hard after hearing him give a particularly long groan and a stutter of his hips, you got out, “if you release me and let me get my gun back, I’ll…I’ll take you back.”

Scar smiled and laughed, leaning to give a sloppy kiss to the middle of your breasts. “I wouldn’t allow you to shoot me~”

A shiver ran through, but it was good you weren’t thinking about it anyway. Slowly, his clawed hands trailed your arms, tracing down your waist before coming off reluctantly. Your arms were free. You slid out from under his spread thighs, making his breath hitch and eyes close for a second.

You stood up eventually, wary of his movements. Scar simply looked up at you with a smile, canines visible as his hands reached out to your legs, slipping off as you walked over to your gun.

…or what was left of it. There was a handprint dent in the metal where he grabbed it and threw it away. Sighing, you picked it up, unaware of how he had gotten so close behind you. Arms snaked through your ribs, settling to cross over one another on your stomach. Scar pulled you to him, giggling a little before whispering, lips to your ear, “hurry~ take me into those warm sheets, let me take my time with you…”

Internally, you wondered if this was a bad idea.

…

After finally making it back to the house, scar behind you matching your walking speed, you turned. He smiled innocently and kissed a strand of your hair he had been holding gently, starkly different to the beast that had stared at you in the woods. Scar walked ahead as you put your gun away, opening the door and waltzing in like he lived there now. Did he now though?

Walking in after him, you closed the door. There was, still practically naked in his tattered clothes, biting into a fruit you had put away. You huff with hands on your hips, but internally you were glad he didn’t just feed on meat, adding to the trust you were placing in the man.

He smiled again, then eyes went wide as your bed came into his vision. Scar walked briskly over to it, fruit in his mouth like a puppy as both his hands ran over the sheets, finely made from huanglong. Looking to you with a claw swirling the sheets and his other hand holding the bitten fruit, he gleamed, “it’s big enough for sure~”

Rolling your eyes, you went to organize your things, but quickly turned when you hear a thud and a pained moan. Whipping around, you see his body has given out, hands clawing at the sheets, bitten fruit rolling on the ground. Scar’s face is twisted, cut off groans and jolts racking his body, his thighs shaking on the floor. Back when he had first caught you, you remember him saying something about ‘it had come earlier than usual’ or something like that, and you were sure that he was referring to a heat cycle. The prime time for animals to…breed with their mate.

Sweating internally, you walked over and placed a hand on his scorching hot back. Those eyes fluttered to you, in pain, but so lost in pleasure. Weakly, he reached for you, burying his face into your available thigh. Hands reached higher as they could, tugging at your clothes.

“It hurts…I wanna be yours~” He whispered, eyes on yours. Your teeth bit into your finger that was at your speechless lips. What were you supposed to do, and how would you help? Slowly, he stood up, arms trapping you into him, rutting into you slowly. Balance shifted, making you sit on the bed, Scar climbing on top, trying to shed the tattered clothes off.

“It’s so hot…ngh- please let me in~ I need it~ need to make you my mate~” his head was hung, hair covering his face as he went low, claws hooking around your waistband, pulling impatiently already. And well, you couldn’t really resist that needy look could you, not after you’d been so lonely.

You could indulge in this for a bit…right? Oh how mistaken you were, realizing it as he laughed madly while pulling at your fabrics at the thought of utterly ravishing his mate.

Working on finishing it! I’m just super tired and will come back in the next few days to wrap it up 😏

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

Sneaking Around With SKZ ✧ Part IV

Rating: Explicit/18+

WC: 4.7k

Comments: This a continuation of this anon requested fic. The reader ends her night peacefully with Chan. Come Monday, she gets to know a new side of Jisung.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght / @chuuyaobsessed / @joyofbebbanburg / @skybluelixie

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

Chan takes your hand and leads you back into the living room. The snacks have been replenished, the sequel to the movie is queued up on the screen. and the members have switched up their seats around the room. Unsurprisingly, Seungmin and Hyunjin are cozied up together, the former playing with the latter’s hair as he talks to Jeongin on his other side. With his top half partially laid on Seungmin, Hyunjin’s got his legs over Jisung’s lap and propped up on the arm of the couch. Jisung seems to be animatedly explaining a theory about the next film while Hyunjin and Minho, on the floor in front of them, nod along. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink without skipping a beat. 

As Chan brings you over to the loveseat, pulling you so that you’re sitting next to him with your legs over his, your mind stays on Jisung. He and Jeongin are the only ones you haven’t hooked up with yet. Based on how things have gone so far, you wonder if you should expect to experience them together. Your first and second encounters were clearly planned to involve two members at a time, but you think you would’ve had Changbin on his own if Felix hadn’t offered his room. It’s been incredibly fun and satisfying so far, so it’s hard to decide if you’d rather have another threesome or not. 

Chan has yet to let go of your hand, and his other hand gently massaging your thigh. There’ll be time to focus on the others later, so you turn your attention to him. “Have you seen this one?”

“Not yet! Have you?”

When you shake your head ‘no’ he launches into his own theories on what comes next while you wait for Changbin and Felix to come rejoin the party. This eventually leads to a heated argument between Seungmin and Minho as everyone gets involved in the predictions, effectively ending when Seungmin gets up and just starts the movie. 

Without a “mission” you settle in and actually pay attention this time. When Changbin joined you on the couch, you moved your legs so he could sit comfortably; so now you’re just tucked into Chan’s side, legs tucked up so that your knees rest against his thigh, and his arm slung around your shoulder. He kisses your head or brings your hand up to press it to his lips every now and then, but it doesn’t go beyond that. 

When the movie ends, Minho immediately starts gloating and taunting Seungmin, but after a minute Jeongin finally pipes up to admit that he and Minho watched the movie together a few weeks prior. Obviously this results in a ton more yelling, and you can’t help but get involved. You’re again struck by how easy it’s been to integrate yourself into this group of men that you really hadn’t even expected to like. 

Following agreeing to a penalty of cleaning up after movie night (as if this had been a bet or something rather than just talking before a movie) and assurances that no one has seen any others in the series, predictions for the third film begin. All the while, Chan has scooped you back into his lap, just holding you while you all talk. During that time, you text your mom to let her know you won’t be home tonight. 

When the third movie finishes, it becomes a debate about whether you might as well watch the fourth and final of the series tonight or if you should just pick it up in the morning. The night owls of the group think they have the most convincing argument considering you, as if it would be a hardship for you to come back for a third time this weekend, on a Sunday no less. It’s silly. But as a night owl yourself, and considering how lively the early birds still seem to be, you opt for not clueing the whole group into your plans yet.

You lean close to whisper in Chan’s ear. “Should I tell them all that I’m taking you up on your offer to spend the night?”

Sweet leader that he is, Chan looks conflicted. “Would you rather watch now or tomorrow?” 

“I mean it’s not that late.” You glance at your phone to actually check the time. It’s really not that bad.

“Then let’s pretend you haven’t decided yet.” Chan grins conspiratorially.

This time you speak to the group. “Can’t we watch tonight? That way I can definitely see it with you?”

There’s a couple sighs, but it’s decided. You get a mix of high fives, thumbs ups, and kisses from the night owls depending on their proximities to you. This round of predictions is much shorter. When the movie ends, those who’d wanted to go to bed have no issue staying up for the next 45 minutes talking about the film then other things. Finally you all decide to call it a night. 

You’ve been attached to Chan since you left Felix’s room, and figure you might as well stay that way for the rest of the night. You give each of the Cuties a hug and kiss goodnight before heading back to the 3Retcha dorm with him. You can’t help but let your kiss with Seungmin linger a bit longer than the others. With Felix the hug is extended while he whispers in your ear about how much he enjoyed his time with you tonight and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks. Minho, of course, doesn’t give you the chance to linger one way or the other, popping you on the butt and pushing you off to Jeongin. You feel weirdly shy with him, so with a quick peck on the cheek, you’re on your way, trailing behind Chan with your hand in his again. 

Back at the other dorm, you all sit around the living room a bit longer chatting while everyone goes to do parts of their night routines in turn. Chan actually leaves the dorm for a bit, causing you to reevaluate your sleep plan. Your goodnight to Changbin is much like your goodbye to Felix with a few more kisses. You sit in his lap while the other two are in other rooms. He only chastises you a little for riling him up so much in front of the others. 

When Hyunjin returns with a bottle of water for you, Changbin plants a kiss on your forehead and says he’s out for the night. Hyunjin switches things up, plopping down into your lap. You wrap your arms around his waist as he laughs. “I can’t believe Seungminnie’s plan actually worked.”

You laugh. “I think you’re the one who got us there, though. What did you whisper to him?”

Hyunjin gives you a sly smile and boops you on the nose. “That’s a secret.”

You both jump a little when you suddenly hear Jisung say, “Secrets secrets are no fun, Jinnie.” 

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out at him, and they start bickering. It’s cute. In the meantime, Chan has returned, but he heads straight towards the bedrooms. Since he was the one to offer to let you spend the night, you assumed you’d stay with him, but maybe not. Should I ask Hyunjin if I can sleep in his bed tonight? 

Just as you’re about to ask, a freshly showered Seungmin sweeps through the door. He plants a kiss on the top of your head while he pats Jisung on his. He makes his way toward Hyunjin’s room, hand extended behind him. “Let’s go, Jinnie, I’m tired.”

Hyunjin pops off your lap and nearly skips to catch up, grabbing Seungmin’s hand and blowing a kiss back over his shoulder. “Night!”

“They’re so cute, right?” Jisung sounds a little sarcastic, but the smile on his face as he watches them go is genuine.

“They really are.” You take the moment to study Jisung. His smile is so nice. His lips are pouty and look soft. You realize you haven’t really gotten to kiss him yet. Before you can follow that thought too far, Chan reappears, looking a little shy. 

“Night, Sung.” He holds out a hand to you. “Follow me?”

You lean over to kiss Jisung on the cheek, then place your hand in Chan’s and let him pull you off the couch. He brings you to the bathroom he shares with Changbin, immediately picking up a brand new toothbrush from the sink to offer to you. Now it makes sense that he’d left while you all were talking. How thoughtful. As you take in the space, you realize that it’s more than that. A bubble bath is standing by, and when you look back to Chan, he’s looking at his feet, a blush coloring his cheeks and ears. 

“I thought you might appreciate a soak after today.” He meets your eyes with a shy smile. “I’ve always found baths relaxing, though I don’t actually take them much.”

“You’re so sweet, Chan.” You pull him close. “Does that mean you’re getting in with me?”

As you pull back to look at him, you see his ears have gone from pink to red. “Uh, if you want me to? I, yeah. I, uh, I’d love to.”

It’s crazy that this man who was so assertive and in control this morning seems so unsure of himself, especially considering how wonderful he’s being. “You sure? You don’t have to.”

“No, I do want to. I just wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

“Of course I do.” You give him your best smile and start pulling the hem of his shirt up. His smile matches as he takes over and pulls it over his head.

You both undress and he gets in first before helping you in. You settle between his legs, turning back for a nice, slow kiss. Chan wraps his arms around you for a beat before letting his hands wander, caressing your arms, stomach, chest, everywhere he can reach. After a few minutes, he encourages you to face forward while he brings his hands up to your shoulders. As he massages, you realize this is the second time you’ve bathed with Chan today. He has such a calming presence; you feel inexplicably comfortable with him. You’ve loved the adventurous experiences you’ve had so far with these men, but you’re starting to treasure the sweet, soft moments with them as well. 

After your bath, and subsequent shower, Chan leaves you to finish your nighttime routine to the best of your ability - using his hair brush and products along with the toothbrush he’d bought for you. When you head into Chan’s room, you’re confused as you nearly walk into each other, as Chan is trying to leave with a pillow and blanket. 

“Where are you going?” With the way he squeezes them a bit tighter to his chest, you can tell he’s feeling a little embarrassed. 

“Oh, you know,” Chan’s ears are burning red as he smiles at the ground. “Just heading out to the couch. I, uh, left a water bottle by the bed for you. Is there anything else you need before I go?” 

You remember that he offered to give up his bed when he asked if you’d want to spend the night, but you didn’t think he’d seriously think you’d want that. Especially after you’d just taken a bubble bath together. You put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s very nice of you, Chan, but I was kind of hoping for a cuddle buddy. Plus, I really don’t want to kick you out of your bed. If you’re uncomfortable sleeping with me, I could go ask Chang-” 

“No, no.” Chan cuts in. “I’d love to share the bed with you. I just didn’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.” You pull him back over to the bed, and when he puts his stuff down, you realize he’s dressed only in his boxers. You’re not even a little subtle as you check out his very impressive physique. His blush spreads up his chest to his cheeks and ears again. “Sorry, I should put some clothes on.” 

Chan starts for his dresser, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him. “You shouldn’t. At least, not on my account.” 

You see that he’d left a shirt and shorts for you on the bed, but you simply toss your towel over the back of his desk chair. “I don’t usually like to sleep with clothes on, if I can help it.” 

It’s crazy how shy this man is considering that just this morning he’d been so assertive and in control. For a second, you wonder if the move was too aggressive and now you were making him uncomfortable.

“Yeah, alright.” He basically squeaks out. Adorable. “If you’re sure you’re good like this.” You smile and slide into the bed, pulling him to join you. After a moment’s hesitation, he slips his boxers off. You settle with him on his back, your head on his chest with your leg thrown over his. When you tilt your head up with a smile to say goodnight, he meets you with one of his own before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. At first you worry that it’ll take a while to fall asleep, but the day must catch up to you and you drift off within the minute.

-

When you wake, it’s clear you’ve shifted in your sleep. You’re on your side now, Chan’s muscular arm draped over your middle. You turn back to look at him; he looks so peaceful in his sleep. You wouldn’t mind staying like this all day, but you’d also much rather be minty fresh when he wakes up. You grab the shirt Chan had originally gotten out for you to sleep in and slip out the door.

On your way back from the bathroom, you see Jisung making his way back to his own room. He shoots you a smile and beckons for you to come over. 

“Sleep well?” He wraps an arm around your waist, turning and leading you into the kitchen.

“Very.” You watch as he grabs ice, filling two cups to the brims before approaching the nearly full pot of coffee. “How about you?”

You catch him grimacing as he turns his back to you to pour the coffee. “I got to sleep okay, but woke up early and haven’t been able to get back to it. So I gave up and made coffee.”

Now that he’s said so, you can see it in his face when he turns back to face you again. He looks beat. Rather than setting a cup in front of you, he jerks his head toward the living room. He puts the drinks on the coffee table, grabs the remote, and flops back onto the couch. You consider his arm stretched over the back of the couch and sit directly beside him, tucking your legs up so that your knees rest on his thigh. His arm comes down to rest around your shoulders; he gestures to the tv. “Music or a show?” 

“Hmm.” You wonder what could help him to relax most. “You were talking about how much you like Studio Ghibli yesterday; can you put on your favorite movie?”

Jisung gives you a ray of sunshine in the form of a smile. He queues it up, telling you about what makes it his favorite. After you sit up for a sip of coffee, you ask to reposition, to lay down to watch. Han is spooning you, his head resting against yours. He runs his hand down your side before wrapping his arm around to hold your hand close to yours close to your chest. He presses a couple kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder, but doesn’t try to do anything beyond that.

You ask him questions every now and then, even though you’ve already seen the film. With each answer, his voice sounds closer and closer to sleep. When the movie is about three quarters of the way through, you can tell by his steady breathing that he’s fallen asleep. You finally let yourself start to drift off as well, hoping you’ll both be able to get in at least a couple more hours. 

When you do wake, you notice that Jisung has rolled back toward the couch, making it easy enough to slip off the couch without disturbing him. You barely try to resist the urge to kiss his forehead before tip toe back to Chan’s room. He’s sitting at his desk, headphones on. You tap his arm lightly, and he turns with a slight start. 

He hits a couple buttons and slides the headphones off. “Hey, you’re up. Did you sleep okay? I hope I didn’t make you feel like you needed to move to the couch.”

“Oh, I slept just fine in here.” You want to assure him, especially when you think of how he seemed nervous to make you uncomfortable the night before. “I just ran into Jisung on my way back from the bathroom. He’d been having trouble sleeping, and I figured a movie and cuddling might help him relax.”

“Looks like you were right.” Chan’s smile is nearly as blinding as Jisung’s. “You guys looked so cute out there. I’m sure he really appreciated you helping him out. We all struggle a bit with sleep in this dorm.”

“I hope he does.” You chuckle a little along with him. You move to grab your clothes from yesterday. “He’s still sleeping out there. I’d wait to talk to him, but I probably should head home. We have dinner with my uncle tonight and I’m sure my mom wants me to help prepare everything.”

“Oh, I hope that’ll be fun. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll walk you home.”

“Sounds good. And take your time.” You pull a small touch up kit out of your bag. “It’ll take me a few minutes to cover these hickies.”

Chan blushes. “Sorry about that.”

You push at his shoulder playfully. “You don’t need to apologize; yours are hidden. Plus, even if it’s a pain, I liked getting them.” 

You’re sure you wear a matching blush with that, and you head to the bathroom. The walk home is great. Like last night, you’re struck by how easy it is to spend time with Chan, and the rest of the group. You figured after last night that you’d at least mostly be compatible sexually, but it goes beyond that. They’re all so genuine and easy to be around.

-

That night, you get a message from an unknown number. It seems to be from Jisung, thanking her for helping him that morning. You change a few messages back and forth, after confirming with Chan that it is in fact Jisung messaging you (can’t be too careful). The conversation is innocuous enough, so when you get a voice note, you raise your brow.

You hit play. “You know, I was a little disappointed that we didn’t end up having any alone time last night. But I hear you follow orders well.”

Another comes in. “You wanna try following my orders, jagiya?”

You would be embarrassed at the size of your smile if anyone were around to see it. You immediately type out a ‘yes, please.’

You can almost hear the smile in his voice in his next voice note. “I need to hear you say it.”

You decide to take it up a notch. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” A shot of anticipation goes through you when you listen to his next message. “Let’s start with something simple. Wear a dress tomorrow, and only a dress. Nothing underneath it.”

You shiver at the thought. You do have one that’s professional enough but also holds you up well enough that you should be able to get away with not wearing a bra. So you send him another “yes sir.”

-

The next day starts like any other, almost as if you didn’t spend the majority of the weekend getting railed by most of the men sitting around preparing to record. When you arrived, Han handed you a coffee with a raised eyebrow, eyeing your dress. You give him a small nod, earning a cocky smirk. A few minutes later, you feel the buzz of your phone and a message simply reading ‘good girl.’

Nearly halfway through the day, you get a text to meet Jisung in the studio during lunch. When the time comes, you arrive to an empty room. On the couch sits a piece of paper, an eye mask, and a set of headphones. The note reads: Put these on. Make sure the headphones’ noise canceling function is on. Sit still and wait for me. HJ

You follow the directions and try not to get too antsy. You can’t decide if you’re more nervous or excited. What if someone else comes in and finds me like this? He’d make sure that wouldn’t happen, right? You shift, tucking your fingers under your thighs.

Suddenly, you feel hands run up your thighs. You gasp in a breath and resist the urge to tear off your blindfold. Jisung’s hands bunch your dress up as far as it can go before shifting his hands between your thighs and gently pushing them apart. Like this, you know he can see that you did as he asked - there are no panties there to block his view of you. He pulls his hands away. 

For a moment, his thumb rests against your bottom lip, dragging it down before it’s gone as well. You feel your pulse hammering. Not being able to see or hear him has you on edge in the best way. You have no idea what he’s going to do next. 

After a minute, you wonder if he’s left you alone again. You shift, pulling your hands from under your legs and start fiddling with your ring. Jisung grips your wrists almost immediately; he positions them so that you are reaching behind you, holding onto the back of the couch. He lets his hands drift down the back of your arms to cupping and squeezing your breasts through your dress. His fingers leave a trail of fire in their wake, his every touch searing into you. 

Soon Jisung’s hands continue their path down your body, and he’s pulling your hips forward so that you’re perched on the end of your seat. He takes hold of each of your legs, positioning them so that you’re spread open and waiting for him. You feel his weight sink into the cushion next to you before dropping a kiss on your lips. His hair tickles your face as he dips down to lip up the side of your neck. Then he’s gone again.

It can’t be more than 30 seconds before he touches you again, but the anticipation makes it feel like forever. You jump when fingers begin spreading your lips and don’t have time to collect yourself before he drags his flattened tongue through your folds. After hearing him rap and sing, you know how talented Jisung is with his mouth, but this is a whole other level. He licks, laves, and sucks expertly, drawing a slew of soft sounds from your lips. 

“Fuck,” you groan out, hoping you don’t sound as desperate as you feel. You itch to touch him, but you’re sure he’ll stop if you move without permission. Still, you can’t help but grind your hips up with your next moan, chasing that friction. In the next second, Jisung is pulling away with a light slap to your thigh. You whimper, not because it hurts, but because you’d been hurtling toward your peak which came to an abrupt halt. 

Jisung adds insult to injury when hands on your knees bring your legs back together. You pout and catch the tail end of his laugh as he removes the headphones from your ears. “Don’t worry, baby. You were so good; I’m gonna take care of you now.”

“Please,” you whisper. You pull your bottom teeth between your lips but realize you forgot something. Not wanting him to change his mind, you tack on “sir.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you into a better position.” He takes your hands and pulls you off the couch. He leads you around to the arm of the couch and gently pushes you so that you end up leaned over it. You can hear the sound of a condom opening and are surprised at the jolt of disappointment that goes through you. It makes more sense to use one in this setting, but you can’t help but think about how there’s been nothing between you and any of the other members; you don’t want things to be different with Jisung, not in this way. 

You’re startled out of your thoughts when a hand lands on your ass with a resounding smack. You let out a little ‘ah,’ and he rubs over the spot soothingly. “That wasn’t too much for you, was it, baby?”

You shake your head before he even finishes the question. “No, sir. I liked it.”

“Good girl. Now I kinda wish you’d misbehaved so I could punish you.”

You wiggle your ass back and forth a little. “Maybe I will next time, but right now I need you inside me, please… sir. Please sir.”

With a quick slap to the other cheek, Jisung kicks your legs further apart and lines his tip up with your entrance. Between his earlier teasing and the lube on the condom, the slide is easy, and good thing - he starts slow but once he feels the lack of resistance, he thrusts in to the hilt. You moan in tandem. 

His hands are on your hips in a punishing grip as he pumps into you, lifting your hips to meet each of his thrusts. He works a steady rhythm, murmuring praise and curses alike. The angle is driving you wild, he’s hitting you in just the right spot. You clutch at the cushion above you, mouth open and panting, just taking what he’s giving you. You drift higher and higher, your moans blending together until they seem to be one drawn out expression of pleasure. 

“That’s right, baby.” Jisung ups his pace, and you feel one of his hands leave your hip to grab onto your hair; he pulls, causing your body to arch, and you almost can’t take anymore. When you manage to get his name out between moans, he finally relents. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good you look falling apart on my cock.”

His permission is like unlocking a door. You cry out, his name on your lips, tightening and trembling as he pounds into you. Not long after, he falls over the edge himself, slumping over your back. Once you both come back to yourselves, he pulls out. After disposing of the condom, he shimmies your dress back down into place and helps you into a standing position. He finally removes your blindfold and the sight of him sated with that cocky grin on his face, you nearly swoon. He’s so hot. 

Jisung sits you both on the couch, his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your wrist. He kisses you softly. Finally, you can touch him without restriction. You wrap your arms around his neck and slide your legs across his lap at his urging. He keeps one arm around your waist and a hand on your upper thigh. Despite all that just happened, this moment feels more intimate.

Jisung pulls back, but just barely, keeping his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. His voice is just above a whisper. “I hope that was good for you.”

“More than good, Sungie.” You beam at him then giggle. “I wish it wasn’t the middle of the day so we could do it again.”

He laughs. “I guess next weekend I’ll have to claim you early on so we can spend plenty of time together. For now, we have a little time left; wanna go grab some lunch?”

He makes sure everything in the room is cleaned up and in order, making sure all evidence of your time together is tucked away in his backpack before you head to the cafeteria.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

To be continued...

[raddagher]

Arcane is over (😭) and I have some criticisms so here are my lists of who Won and who Lost in no particular order

LOST SEASON 2

1. Isha

Literally wasn't even mentioned after she died, like wtf was that

We couldn't have a memorial or anything? Come on

Her sacrifice was ultimately meaningless because Warwick got brought back anyway

2. Sevika

Didn't get a single line through all of Act 3

Where is my wife

At least she didn't die?

3. The entire Undercity, to be honest

Where did the independence thread go

Giving Sevika a council seat wasn't enough

I don't like that so many of them had to fight in Enforcer uniforms, that felt wrong

That was the MAIN CONFLICT for most of the show. It felt so weird to gloss over it at the end

4. Vander/Warwick

Gonna be real I wasn't super crazy about most of his presence here, I don't feel like it actually contributed much to anyone's development, except MAYBE Viktor's

We would not have lost anything if they didn't have the flashback scene with their mom

Super didn't like Jinx's ending as it pertained to him

5. Jinx

Hey I super don't like that every character who had a moment of suicide ideation or attempt ended up dead or "dead"

I don't like the way she "died" it didn't feel earned

I don't feel like the ending she got aligned well with her character at all. She spiraled and then just. stayed at the bottom of the spiral :(

They put a TON of family stuff in act 1 and 2 that didn't get resolution in 3

I think they kinda did my girl dirty I'm sorry

6. Loris

Clearly would have had more of a role if they didn't have to cut him for time

NEITHER WON NOR LOST SEASON 2

1. Vi

I want to say she won because she got to bang her cop girlfriend in a prison cell and the sex scene was good as hell but

She also was just taking massive L's the whole time

Like it never felt like she ever had any real wins other than that and that bummed me out

Didn't get enough time to be a dumbfuck with Jayce :(

Caitlyn

Didn't get enough proper resolution for her wonderful fascist arc

She felt a little dropped in Act 3 as well

Glad she got that Vussy tho, good for her

And I did like the vs Ambessa fight, that was also good

I honestly feel like Viktor and Jayce's romance was written better than her and Vi's, and as a gay woman who is constantly watching mlm relationships get so much more attention, it rubs me the wrong way

WON SEASON 2

1. Viktor (OBVIOUSLY)

The fucked up robot army. The religious imagery. The body horror. His robot alien design is scary as fuck. Absolutely incredible work

Got to be taller and stronger than Jayce hooray

They're canon. That was the gayest shit I've ever seen in my life

I do wish they had spent more time overall fleshing out more of the disability commentary, I feel like it was a little lacking in the end

Nevertheless BEAUTIFUL and HORRIFYING and TRAGIC

2. Jayce

See above

Yeah he also got to be a big hero and got to be resolved really well

Did NOT see his death coming that was crazy

They Magnus 200'd his ass, damn

He chose Viktor over everything I'm emo

They made a heart when they touched their foreheads together fuck OFF

3. Heimerdinger

Literally just living his best life

Love that he didn't tell Ekko he can't die, he just let the poor boy think he got fuckin atomized, king shit, that's hilarious

I would have stayed in that universe too tbh

4. Ambessa

The single tear over Kino. Her love for her children at direct odds with her need for control. Her arc was explored so well

Died a warrior's death at the hands of her brilliant daughter, I know that's how she would have wanted to go

Also was very hot in every scene. Good for her (and good for me)

She just got a lot of love from the writers and I'm very happy to see that effort put into an older Black woman character

5. Mel

Speaking of gorgeous Black women

I was so worried she was going to get dropped but her ending was SO good

Her glow up with the gold is fantastic, she looks amazing in the white hood

Love that they gave her abilities that would inherently change her priorities AND gave her the throne of Noxus, I have high hopes that she'll be prominent in another show in the future

They made her such a powerful badass but still let her be merciful and forgiving. Absolutely amazing. She is the wolf

6. Ekko (?)

On the fence about him

LOVED the au scene. Perfect

And I loved that our boy savior got to be the one that set off the bomb that stopped Viktor

But he was kind of dropped otherwise? Like what happened with his tree?

Generally wish he had more development and screentime in this season

But I'm happy he was so pivotal to the climax

AND I'm happy he got to kiss Powder. He and Jinx would never have worked out

7. Maddie

Haha I never liked you. Get fucked you horrible little bootlicker. Typical cop

8. Singed

How come YOU get everything you want?

Fuck you.

Basically all my criticisms boil down to it feeling rushed overall. It's clear that they intended to have more time, and that breaks my heart. We all know Netflix's reputation for cancelling stuff out of the blue, and I've heard that maybe certain parties were unhappy with the depictions of gay romance and realistic social revolution. Whatever the reasons, I wish they had a third season, because I think they could have solved every problem I have with it. Regardless, it's an incredible work of art and very likely one of if not THE best animated series ever made.