#dumb drunk dunce

[rejectingrepublicans]

We really need to end this madness.

[yaimlight]

Chapter 1 ~ She’s Got Two Little Horns & They Get Me Little Bit ~ part 1

Rating: M 18+ minors DNI

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader / Todoroki Shoto x fem!reader / Bakugou Katsuki x Todoroki Shoto/ Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader x Todoroki Shoto

Warnings: teasing ~ grinding ~ sub Bakugou vibes ~ misuse of quirks ~ swearing ~ slight dub con ~ setting the scene ~ smutty smut in next part ~ devil/demon reader

Part of the Twos Company, Threes A Crowd series but can be read on own

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Katsuki groaned, rubbing his hands together in a desperate attempt to rub some feeling and warmth back into them. He hated the cold with a passion almost as fierce as his anger and being forced to stand around outside in October whilst waiting for his idiot friends was not his idea of a good time. He had made a promise though, denying himself the warmth and comfort of the bar so he could make sure dumb and dumber actually made it to the stupid party their entire graduating class seemed to be going to. It wasn’t just any party though. No, Katsuki had gone and gotten himself stuck attending a stupid Halloween party like the idiot he clearly was.

It would be an understatement to say that he wasn’t a fan of Halloween. It was a pointless holiday, just an excuse for kids to dress up and get free candy and for the adults to dress as slutty as they could without society being bothered by it for once whilst also getting so drunk they can barely wobble the few steps from whatever party they stumbled from and into a taxi. Normally Katsuki would be on patrol, volunteering himself and unintentionally dragging Shoto along with him all because their idiot boss just assumed that because they were hero partners they were incapable of doing things separately now. Shoto never complained though and they would spend the night wandering the streets, Katsuki yelling at the drunken idiots when they predictably got too rowdy and started acting like they had lost all sense of common decency. Something Katsuki wasn’t too sure they had in the first place considering some of the gross behaviour he had seen over the years.

Katsuki’s luck had run out this year though and despite his insistence to be scheduled in he had found himself with the night off and no one of those useless extras at the agency willing to swap with him. He hadn’t been given the choice of staying at home, practically having been forced by Mina to attend the stupid impromptu school reunion. So here he was, freezing his balls off outside the train station waiting for dunce face and soy sauce to turn up. They were late though and Katsuki was seriously considering ditching them all and going to find a coffee shop to hide away in. He probably would have if he hadn’t already promised to walk home with Shoto. Though the other man probably wouldn’t care if Katsuki ditched him. He would be the only one that felt that way though and Katsuki wasn’t that much of an asshole that he would leave his idiotic boyfriend to deal with the idiot squad all on his own.

“Bakubro!” His dumb nuckname rang out through the night air, loud and annoyingly cheerful. He had gotten used to it over the years, no longer blowing up with anger when it was used. Therapy had helped with that, helped him come to terms with the fact it was a sign of the affection his friends had for him and not an attempt to annoy him like he originally thought back when they had first started using it. That didn’t stop Katsuki from groaning though and trying to shrink back into his jacket as people started to look around, trying to find the source of the disturbance, not that they could miss the electric blonde hero.

“Hey blasty!” Denki cried out as he flung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders, yanking the blonde down into a hug. “Get the hell off me,” he growled, shoving the other man off of him with a little more force than was probably necessary. Denki was used to it by now though and laughed it off, righting himself quickly before he tripped over his own feet and ended up sprawled on his ass in the road. Katsuki huffed, grumbling under his breath about idiots and their lack of understanding about personal space as he turned to fully face them only for the words to die on his lips when he saw what the other two men were wearing.

Katsuki had refused to dress up when Mina had brought it up, threatening to not even go if she didn’t stop harping on about it and how he would be the only one not dressed up. Like he was actually supposed to care about that. It was one thing to be goo to this ridiculous party, it was another to actively go out of his way to take part in the stupid fancy dress requirement that Mina had insisted on. Katsuki didn’t do dress up, refused to make a spectacle of himself like that but it seemed like the others hadn’t been as opposed to it as he was. Go figure he would get stuck babysitting two idiots who were more than happy to demean themselves if it got them laid at the end of the night. Mina was definitely trying to get her own back, Katsuki was sure of it. Well that and the fact Denki and Sero apparently had no self respect.

Denki was wearing a red, high collared shirt that he had left open at the top to expose the top of his chest, the cuffs so long that they almost covered his hands. He had a red waistcoat over the top, with black lapels and accents that stood out against the vast amounts of red, though he had thankfully forgone the red theme with the rest of his outfit instead going with smart black trousers and black high tops to round it off. Though the outfit was hideous in Katsuki’s opinion it wasn’t the worst thing about the whole ensemble, the idiot having finished the look off with a tacky pair of black horns and matching little black bat wings that seemed to flap every time he moved.

Though Hanta had dressed up he had committed to it quite as much as the electric blonde had. He had gone for what was clearly a crappy store bought mummy costume, bits of slightly yellow cloth hanging off his arms and wrapped around his body. The two of them truly looked like the idiots they were and were drawing way too much attention for Katsuki’s liking.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” he grunted, eyeing them with disdain as he quickly began to head down the street and towards the bar. Either they would keep up or not, it wasn’t Katsuki’s problem if they were too slow. “I’m a sexy demon,” Denki stated confidently as he bounced up to Katsuki’s side, looking more like a pleased puppy than anything else. “Ain’t nothing sexy about your dumb ass,” Katsuki scoffed. Hanta snorted in laughter as Denki placed a hand over his exposed bit of chest. “You wound me,” he gasped, feigning hurt like the dramatic little shit he was. “At least we made an effort, unlike you,” Hanta teased, poking Katsuki in the side. Katsuki turned to snarl at him, slapping his hand away when he tried to poke him again. “Like hell I would be stupid enough to do something like that. I’m not a fucking child unlike you idiots”. Denki rolled his eyes at Katsuki’s insult. “I bet you would have if Y/N was here,” he grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at Hanta like Katsuki wasn’t right there. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the other man, lips curling up into a snarl.

It was a well-known fact that Katsuki was wrapped so tightly around Y/N's finger that if she said to jump off a building he would probably ask what one instead of telling her where to shove it. The only comfort was that Shoto was just as bad if not worse. At least Katsuki had the good sense to question what was being asked of him, most of the time. Shoto would just take it at face value and do whatever she asked. It’s how Katsuki had come home one day to Shoto naked and on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor whilst Y/N sat on the sofa eating cake and smiling like she had gotten the best gift ever. Not that Katsuki was complaining but you would think after all these years the stupid candy cane would have learnt not to just do what people told him.

If she had been here Katsuki might have considered the whole dressing up like an idiot thing she wasn’t so Katsuki hadn’t even thought twice about saying no. She wasn’t coming to the party, instead stuck seven hours away in Okinawa with shitty hair, helping out with some human trafficking thing of ‘exotic’ quirked people because Y/N knew how to bullshit bad guys and Eijiro made a good body guard. Not that Katsuki was jealous about his best friend getting all of her attention. Nope. Not at all. Especially not considering neither he or Shoto had actually spoken to the women for the last three days apart from the one text every day that told them she was fine. So, no she wasn’t there and therefore there was no one who would be able to get Katsuki to dress up like some mangled approximation of something that was barely associated with Halloween.

“Even if he isn’t dressed up we could always pass him off as some sort of rabid, wolf dog, human hybrid thing,” Hanta gestured at Katsuki as he spoke and the blonde actually growling at him and flashing his teeth in a display of annoyance. “There you go. Already getting into the role,” Denki shouted excitedly and slapped Katsuki on the back hard, causing him to stumble forward slightly. That’s it, Katsuki had had enough. He was going to kill them and he would make sure no one found the bodies.

Before he could do anything though the other men came to a stop before a rather unassuming building that looked more like a run down office building then the location of a high end bar. “We’re here!” Denki shouted, throwing his arms up in the air in triumph. Katsuki eyed the building sceptically, not really trusting his friend's judgement but a quick check on his phone's GPS proved that they were at the address Mina had given him just a few hours ago. Resigned to his fate and in desperate need of a drink Katsuki strode towards the building, shoving the doors open with a grunt and stepped through into the room beyond.

The first thing that hit him was the noise followed by the sheer amount of people. The place was packed with people in all kinds of costumes, some more elaborate than others and some just downright indecent to be out in public in. Katsuki could spot a few of his old classmates amongst the crowd, though their current state of dress made it harder to pick them out. Glasses and ponytail were unmissable in their matching Frankenstein and Mrs Frankenstein outfits, Iida’s choppy movements so recognisable that it was odiously him under all that weird blue/grey face paint. Mina was in the far corner dressed as a sexy astronaut of all things with a few other girls that Katsuki couldn’t make out huddled around her and he could definitely make out Tokoyami is and Asui lurking in a dark corner at the end of the bar, Tokoyami not looking much different to normal apart from the large scythe he was carry whilst Asui was dressed up like some sort of fairy or something. Katsuki couldn’t really tell through all the lilies and vines covering her.

Music was pumping loudly from speakers dotted around the room, the sound of people laughing and chatting just as loud and mixing with the thumb of music to make it almost unintelligible. Grouaning Katsuki rubbed at his temple, he could already feel a headache coming on and if he stayed here longer than an hour it was sure to get worse and leave him an irritated and grumpy mess. It wouldn’t get that bad though. Katsuki was only staying long enough for a drink, maybe two at a push, making it known that he had shown up then he was finding Shoto and taking the idiot home before Mina and round cheeks could get him drunk again. He was not having a repeat of last time when he had practically had to carry the other man home and then listen to him puke his guts up in the toilet. He loved the guy but there were some things he didn’t want to experience twice.

“This is amazing,” Denki screamed in his ear as he slung his arm over Katsuki’s shoulders, bouncing excitedly on the spot like a toddler that had had too much sugar. Katsuki grunted in response. It was not amazing. It was loud and annoying and he wanted to leave already. “I need a drink,” he grumbled, not waiting for an answer before he started to push his way through the crowd of people and towards the bar. If they wanted a drink they would follow him, knowing damn well that Katsuki wouldn’t get it for them. Not when he was in his current mood anyway.

“Holy shit,” Hanta exclaimed excitedly as the bar finally came into view, slapping a hand out and stopping Katsuki from going any further. The blonde scowled at the other man, already shoving his arm out the way and yelling at him for getting in Katsuki’s way. Hanta wasn’t paying attention to him though, wasn’t even looking at Katsuki, his eyes instead trained on the bar and looking like all his dreams had come true at once. Huffing Katsuki turned to see what had the other man's attention. Katsuki practically choked on his tongue, his eyes going wide in suprise as they landed on who had caught Hanta’s attention.

Leant against the bar was what Katsuki could only best describe as the devil herself.

Her back was to them, the women leant forward across the bar to talk to the bartender who was clearly trying not to stare at the women’s tits and failing miserably, looking noticeably flustered as his eyes kept darting away from her only to be drawn back. Her skin was crimson red, the black of her all leather outfit standing out even more because of it and it was quite the eye arching outfit. Her trousers were like a second skin, pulled tight across her ass with a small hole having been cut in the top to make room for her long red tail to poke through. The tip was flat tapering and in the shape of a spade, the tip sharp like an arrow head that looked dangerous even from across the room. Katsuki could only see two thin straps to indicate she was wearing a top, her back bare and curved as she leant even further across the bar, sticking her ass out just that little more.

Katsuki could just see the curves of two large horns that curled up and around her head but the main thing to hold his attention were the large black and red leathery wings that were folded against her back. They reached from above her head almost all the way down to the floor, the end of each spine seeming to have a sharp claw attached to it that just added to the whole unholy demonic vide she had going on. She looked like fucking sin incarnate and Katsuki hadn’t even seen the front yet. Shit, he shouldn’t be looking. He was in an established and committed relationship, a happy goddamned man with no need to be staring at some extras ass like they were a piece of meat. He was going to be in so much trouble if Shoto and Y/N ever found out about this.

“Now that’s a sexy demon,” Hanta exclaimed loudly, smacking Denki on the back and jarring him out of his drooling. He made a weird noise somewhere between a whine and a sob, eyes still firmly fixed on the women and looking more terrified than anything else. “Well, wish me luck,” Hanta exclaimed, winking at them before striding purposely up to the women’s side. “Oh my god he’s going to get eaten,” Denki mumbled, gripping tightly at Katsuki’s arm and stepping into the blonde's personal space. Katsuki knew Hanta was desperate at this point to find someone to settle down with but he hadn’t struck Katsuki as the kind of person to be into, well, that. Maybe Katsuki should film his inevitable failure so they could all get a good laugh later because Katsuki was sure a woman like that was going to take one look at Hanta and laugh in his face. Well that or eat him alive.

Hanta slid up to her with a wide smile, sprouting some crap that Katsuki couldn’t here only for a look of panic to cross his face as she turned her head to look at him. His eyes quickly darted over to his friends, looking like he had seen hell itself and trembling lips trying to form words but before he could get anything out a large wing opened up, blocking him from view. “Katsuki do something,” Denki whined, tugging on Katsuki’s arm like some little kid. “Like what?” he grunted, yanking his arm from the other man’s grip. “I don’t know, go over there and growl or something. You’re a guard dog, go guard,” he gestured towards their friend. Katsuki clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth at yet another mention of him being a dog. He was going to strangle Shinso for telling dunce face that was what he called him. Right after he saved his idiot friend from whatever trouble he had let his dick get him into this time.

“Fine,” Katsuki snapped, “but if she tries to eat my soul you better be ready to get haunted”. Katsuki rolled his shoulders, psyching himself up to go tell some random women to back off to save his idiot friend from his own choices but before he could even take a step towards the bar the wing shifted and Hanta came scrambling back, looking both embarrassed and horrified. “Hey man, you okay?” Denki asked in concern but the other man ignored him, instead turning to face Katsuki. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise and when I did she…I tried to get away but she’s so….I’m so sorry. Please don’t kill me,” Hanta rushed out in a jumbled mess, Katsuki only just understanding the words though they made little sense. “Huh?” he asked dumbly and Hanta audibly swallowed before gesturing back to the bar, his hand noticeably trembling. Frowning, Katsuki turned back to look at the devil women.

She had turned round, her elbows now resting on the bar and wings spread a little to accommodate them, the things curling around her and blooming her off from the other people still jostling for attention at the bar. Slowly Katsuki dragged his eyes up over her exposed stomach across her leather clad breasts, her bra shaped to look like hands and only just seeming to hold everything in. His searching gaze continued up past sharp white fangs just visible behind smirking blood red lips, all the way up to completely black eyes that he knew were staring right back at him. Katsuki sucked in a breath as realisation dawned on him.

“Oh shit you hit on Y/N,” Denki gasped, sounding equal parts shocked, horrified and amused. He had finally let go of Katsuki, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other hand balled up into a fist that he had pressed against his mouth in an attempt to keep his laughter in though it was doing nothing to hide his smile. “I’m so sorry Kats. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Hanta pleaded, a slight edge of hysterical desperation to his voice but Katsuki wasn’t paying him any attention, his eyes still fixed on the women at the bar. Y/N lifted her glass to her lips, the amber liquid sloshing around as she sipped from it. It was only then that he noticed how long and sharp her nails were, looking more like claws than anything and stained black, like she had dipped her fingers into a tub of black paint. “Come on. Let’s go before his brain starts working again and he actually kills you”. Katsuki just grunted as the other two made a quick escape. Later he would definitely punch soy sauce in the arm for hitting on her but right now he was too preoccupied with the woman who was now slowly making her way towards him, all grace and confidence like a panther hunting its prey.

“Hey handsome,” she smiled, coming to a stop just in front of him, close but not touching. It was weird not having to look down to meet her eyes, the heels she had on putting her just about his height so she could stare directly at him. Katsuki licked at his lips, his eyes darting down to her red ones. He had missed her, more than he had realised until she once again stood in front of him, looking both familiar and very much not at the same time. “You’re here,” he whispered, his voice too quiet for the crowded space and thankfully hiding the almost dreamy quality to his voice. She smiled, something small yet knowing and Katsuki quickly shook off the surprised dumb thing he had going on. Eyes narrowing he stared directly into those black pools she called eyes and demanded to know, “what the hell you doing here?” It was rude and abrasive but it wasn’t like any one could blame him. As far as he and Shoto knew she was supposed to be out in Okinawa for at least another week still and yet here she was, looking like something she had just stepped off the cover of some cheesy rock album.

Her lips parted in a smirk, those white fangs on display again. She placed her hands on his chest, those long and dangerous nails pressing down ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt but just enough to feel it. It was habit that had Katsuki reaching out, placing both his hands on her hips and pulling her those few in chest closer so they were almost touching. She was warm, noticeably so and though Katsuki was no longer cold he wanted to bury his face in her neck and press their bodies together so he could soak up all that heat. Before he could do that though she was talking, her voice annoyingly smug. “Turns out me and Eijiro are just that good and we finished ahead of schedule so we thought we would surprise you”.

She inclined her head to the side, her smile turning softer as she looked at something beyond the crowd of people around them. Frowning, Katsuki turned his head in the same direction, red eyes search the crowd only to land on Mina and Eijiro, the pinkett letting out a loud squeal as she launched herself at the man, flinging her arms around his neck and almost pulling him over in her excitement. “She definitely looks surprised,” Katsuki mumbled, still watching as the red head wrapped his arms around Mina’s waist and spun her round, clearly just as excited as she had been. Y/N chuckled, her hands sliding up across his pecs and over his shoulders, looping her arms around his neck and stepping in just that little bit closer. “Are you surprised, my love?” she practically purred in his ear, sending a tinge of excitement down his spine. “Very,” he smirked. Turning his attention back to her and giving the other couple some semblance of privacy he took one hand off her waist, lifting it to cup her cheek instead. She smiled softly, turning her head to nuzzle his palm. “Missed you,” she sighed, her hot breath puffing out over his wrist and sending a shiver down his spine. He felt cold, everywhere apart from where they were touching, her heat seeping into him and making his skin tingle like it had been burned. It was almost too much, just scaring the edges of discomfort but at the moment it was like she was a roaring fire and he a cold traveler huddled close for warmth. He felt safe with her in his arms, knowing full well that she had perfect control over what she was doing.

Katsuki’s smirk eased into a soft smile, his thumb gently rubbing against her cheek. “Missed you too”. Honestly, it was a little pathetic how much he had missed her. After all these years and her annual trips to London as well as the odd mission away and job with Takahashi Enterprises Katsuki would have thought he would have gotten used to it all by now and for the most part he had but he still felt her absence when she was away and longed for her return. He was more grumpy when they were apart, Shoto just as bad though he got quieter. It was the same if Shoto was off on a mission, or even him. At this point they had spent so much time together as a three that it just didn’t feel right if one third was missing. Though, the reunion sex was always someonthing else, desperate and messy and solidifying that they were home, together again.

Katsuki slipped the hand on her cheek down, instead curling it loosely around her neck. His thumb gently brushed over her soft bottom lip, tugging it down gently so he could see just a hint of sharp fangs. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s with the get up?” It was a valid question, one that had been niggling at the back of his mind since realising it was her but he had been too distracted by her sudden appearance to question it, until now that was. Her lips parted slightly, black eyes watching him intently as she sucked the tip of his thumb between her lips. Katsuki sucked in a breath as all his attention zeroed in her mouth and his now spit slicked digit. Her teeth nipped at the pad, her tongue following to soothe the sting. It felt odd though, not quite the same as he was used to but it still had his pulse racing and his dick twitching.

“You don’t like it?” she asked with a pout, letting his thumb fall from her lips. “Didn’t say that,” he grunted, voice low and rough and full of his want. No he liked it, liked it a lot, horns and all. He was already thinking about what she would look like on her hands and knees, crying out his name as he fucked her senseless, those black wings spread out and he head tipped back from the right hold he had on one of her horns. She smirked, wide and a little dangerous, her hand curling around the back of his neck and sharp nails scratching at the base of his skull. She hummed, leaning in to ghost her lips across his cheek. “Good because I have all sorts of wicked things I want to try,” she whispered teasingly in his ear, her hot breath tickling and sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He barely suppressed the groan that wanted to burst free, his grip tightening on her waist in an attempt to ground himself.

“What kind of things?” Katsuki managed to get out through the haze of lust taking over his mind. He tipped his head to the side as she began to kiss and nip at his jaw, letting out a low rumbling moan as she latched into a particularly sensitive spot. Katsuki slid his hand back from her cheek, his fingers tangling in her hair and cradling the back of her skull in an attempt to keep her mouth pressed against that spot just below his ear. Vaguely he was aware of Y/N laughing, something low and teasing but he could find it in him to care, especially not when those sharp fangs pressed against his racing pulse, the threat of them sinking in getting his pulse thumping and his hardening dick twitching.

She tugged at his hair, forcing his head back and to the side so she could get at more of his neck and this time Katsuki couldn’t catch the loud and desperate groan in time. Her horns bumped against his chin and Katsuki was struck by the sudden urge to grab them, to wrap his hands around them and use them to drive her head down as he fucked up into her mouth. Shit they needed to stop. Katsuki was already half hard, his brain feeling oddly clouded as his want for the other women grew. They were in the middle of a crowded room for fucks sake, surrounded buy friends a whole bunch of extras that Katsuki had never seen before in his life. She looked different enough that people probably hadn’t recognised her yet but Katsuki didn’t have that luxury. People were quick to judge and the fact was, to them at least, he was letting some random devil women suck on his neck like a starving vampire. It was as scandal waiting to happen and he didn’t even have Shoto there to bake him up and make it obvious who was gnawing on his neck.

“Play a game with me?” she whispered in his ear before nipping at the lobe, sucking on it before letting it go with a wet pop. Katsuki screwed his eyes shut, trying to steady his suddenly racing heart. This was a bad idea and it couldn’t possibly end well for either of them. No, that wasn’t completely true. It would most likely end in some amazing sex but the getting from here to there part would most likely be a headache at best and having issue a public apology at worst. He needs to put a stop to this before it can get any further out of hand than it already is but he can’t bring himself to push her away, his grip on her waist tightening to the point that it must be painful just at the thought of putting even an inch of space between them.

The hand that wasn’t in Katsuki’s hair slid back down his chest, fingers pressing against every muscle until she found the edge of his t-shirt. She quickly slid her hand under the fabric, her hand splaying over his abs as she stepped forward, slotting her leg between his and pressing her thighs against his straining erection. “Fuck,” he cursed as quietly as he could and getting an amused laugh in return. Everything thought of stopping vanished from his mind, Katsuki unable to stop himself from grinding against her leather clad thigh. “Latter,” she teased, shifting her leg against him to give him the slightest bit of friction. With a gasp Katsuki tipped his head forward, resting it against her shoulder.

Something was wrong. He shouldn’t be this far gone already and in a room full of people at that. Shoto was the exhibitionist not him. Katsuki didn’t like people watching unless it was Y/N or Shoto and only ever in the privacy of their own home. He felt hot, his skin prickling with electricity everywhere she was touching. His heart was racing, his breathing heavy and slightly shaky. “What...what are y…you doing?” Katsuki managed to groan out, his hips rolling forward to get more friction on his now fully erect dick. She stepped back slightly, moving her leg away from where it had been pressed against his groin and Katsuki actually whimpered, trying to pull her back towards him but she wouldn’t let him. Her hand flattened against his abs as the other tightened in his hair and yanked his head back. Katsuki cried out, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting of pain. He didn’t even know when he had closed them. His eyes stung with unshed tears, his hazy gaze fixed on the women before him. He felt like he was falling apart, his fingers twitching with the need to feel her and his arousal burning through his veins like he was full of acid and brimstone. This wasn't right and Katsuki could feel his panic groaning, nipping at the edges of his lust and turning the feeling sour.

“Hey, shush. It’s ok,” she coed softly, the tight grip she had on his hair loosening so she could pet softly at the stands. “You’re ok, all I was doing was amplifying your feelings, see? All gone”. It happened as soon as she let go of him, Y/N stepping back slightly to give him some space. The loss was like a slap to the face, everything slamming back into focus as the all-consuming arousal vanished like it had been blinked out of existence. Gasping Katsuki stumbled back slightly, eyes wide as they darted around the room, the panic finally settling in fully along with his rapidly growing anger. He had been fucking grinding on her leg like a dog in heat, moaning and groaning like a cheap whore in a room full of people. She had no right to do that to him, to make him lose control like that against his will. Fuck! He was so embarrassed, so angry and her sad little pout wasn’t helping. Something shifted and it’s then that Katsuki noticed that she had unfolded her wings, wrapping them halfway around Katsuki and hiding them from view of the rest of the room. The next thing he noticed was that no one was even looking at them, all absorbed in their own little bubbles. It was as if they didn't exist, the two of them seemingly invisible to the rest of the room.

Frowning, Katsuki reached out, waving his hand in front of some random extras face next to him. They didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, just carried on with their conversation like Katsuki wasn’t two seconds away from smacking them in the face to see if they would react to it. “You didn’t actually think I would let anyone else see you like that did you?” Y/N asked, her voice small and sad sounding. Katsuki snapped his head back round to glare at her, finding her with an arm wrapped around her stomach and looking off to the side. She looked like a puppy who had just been told off, a vast contrast to the starving succubus she had been just moments before. “The fuck do you think your doing?” he snapped, stepping back into her space despite the fact he was still angry at her. She pouted, tilting her head forward slightly and Katsuki knew that if he could see her eyes she would be looking up at him through her lashes, pretending to be all coy and shit, like she hadn’t just had Katsuki on the verge of begging her to let him fuck her for all their friends and random extras to see. It was a good job Shoto wasn’t there because that was probably exactly what would have happened, it was the little perverts biggest fantasy come to life.

She had the decency to look sheepish, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth and letting a fang dig into the plumb flesh. Despite his still simmering anger Katsuki still felt that familiar twinge of interest, his fingers itching with the need to tug her lip out from between her teeth and replace it with his own. Shit. It had been that long since they had sex, she’d only been gone a few weeks and it wasn’t like he and Shoto had been living like monks whilst you had been gone. Maybe it was the weird quirk you had picked or maybe he was just really horny but whatever it was it was making it really hard to stay angry at you. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had had sex angry. Not that you were going to have sex. Not here anyway. Where the hell was Shoto, you needed to leave already and Katsuki wasn’t about to leave the candy cane behind.

Smirking, she stepped forward, seeming to sense that Katsuki’s anger was quickly dissipating. “I missed you,” she smiled, curling one hand around his bicep and dripping the other over his shoulder so she could go back to stroking her fingers through his carefully styled spikes. “Missed this,” she purred and Katsuki sucked in a breath, his eyes darting down between them as something pushed against his still half hard dick. The flat of her tail pressed against him, dragging it across his aching length and coxing him back to fully hard. It was weird to watch, the snake-like appendage seeming to have a mind of its own as it slipped down his length to nudge at his balls with just enough firmness that he could feel it through the thick denim.

Biting back a groan, Katsuki darted a hand out and grabbed at her tail, yanking it away from him. “Knock it off,” he hissed angrily, his eyes darting around the still seeming oblivious room before turning back to glare at her. She huffed, both hands curling around his shoulder like that was some sort of proof that she was going to start behaving. “Spoil sort,” she grumbled but thankfully she seemed to settle, her tail curling around his wrist and up his arm and squeezing softly. It felt as weird as it looked, smooth like skin and just as hot as the rest of her. It was like a band of heated metal was wrapped around him and Katsuki had to wonder if there would be a red mark left behind when she finally let go, like she had branded him as hers. That probably shouldn’t have been as big a turn on as it was.

“Shoto know you’re here?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself, eyeing her suspiciously as he waited for her answer. Katsuki doubted the other man did, Y/N probably looking to mess with the both of them but it wouldn’t be the first time they had conspired against him and he doubted it would be the last. She laughed, probably knowing what he had been thinking. “Do you see him anywhere?” she asked, a teasing tone to it as she raised a delicate eyebrow at him. Katsuki quickly swept his eyes across the room, looking for the familiar red and white hair but he didn’t find him, nor did he see Deku and round cheeks who he was supposed to be coming with.

“No,” he grumbled, annoyed at the other man’s absence. She took the opportunity to lean forward, her lips instantly going to the hollow of his throat and sucking gently. Her horns nudged at his chin and Katsuki wordlessly tipped his head back to give her more room. Fuck it felt good, her lips leaving a burning trail up his neck and jaw as she kissed her way higher. He could feel that tingle of arousal again, sharpening as it started to take over again. He should tell her to stop, that here and now isn’t a good idea but it’s less sudden then last time, more like his normal level of want just a bit more demanding and needy, nothing he can’t handle. So he lets her, groaning when she scrapes her teeth along his jugular. “Then there’s your answer,” she teased, her lips ghosting against his chin with every word. Katsuki’s breath stuttered, his free hand finding its way back to her waist.

When she pulled away it was with a satisfied smirk, the spot she had been suck on his jaw throbbing pleasantly. She was so close, lips hovering just a few scant inches away from him and Katsuki automatically leant in, wanting nothing more in that moment then to feel her lips moving against his. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t actually kissed yet, something that needed rectifying as quickly as possible. She leaned in and Katsuki closed his eyes, anticipating the soft slide of her lips against his but instead of feeling her lips against his a finger pressed down on his and Katsuki’s eyes fluttered open, confused as to why she was stopping him. “You never answered my question,” she said simply, a smirk on her lips. Frowning, Katsuki pulled back, struggling to remember what she had asked as her hand fell back to his chest, clawed fingers playing with the collar of his top.

“What,” Katsuki coughed, trying to clear away the rough edge to his voice. “What was the question again?” he mumbled, his arousal spiking as he tried to concentrate. That was playing dirty, Y/N manipulating what he was feeling whilst he was actually trying to think but it felt so good. He groaned as her hands slid down his chest, nails scratching against him through the thin cotton of his top. Her tail pulled his arm to the side and back as she stepped in closer once more, his hand that had been on her waist slipping back until it ended up on her ass. Her hands were back under his shirt, sliding gently up his back and her mouth going back to his neck, sucking on a spot just behind his ear. “Fuck,” he gasped as she bit down gently, his hands tightening and pulling her against him.

She laughed gently as she moved her mouth right next to his ear. “Katsuki, play a game with me,” she purred, pressing her body as tight against his as she could and grinding her thigh against his dick. Katsuki was gone, head tipping back on a moaned out “yes” as he squeezed at her ass. He wanted her, wanted to fuck her hard and fast, leave her fucking gasping and then send her off to Shoto so the other man could lick his come off of her before covering her with his own. He wanted it so badly he hadn’t ever thought about the fact he was agreeing to something without really knowing what it was she was asking.

With one last kiss to his jaw she pulled away, letting go of him and putting an unwanted amount of distance between them. This time the groan Katsuki made was of frustration, his head spinning as his desperate need vanished once more. He glared at the smirking women before him, contemplating just telling her to shove off and leaving but he knew he wouldn’t. He was too proud to back down from a challenge, even something like this. “Give it a couple of minutes then meet me in the men’s room”. She winked at him before turning and strutting away from him, no one even looking at her as she walked by.

“Fuck,” Katsuki grumbled under his breath, rubbing at his head and trying once more to get his body back under control. He shouldn’t go after her. Whatever she had planned would probably be insane, would probably have him on edge all night and would most definitely involve Shoto whenever he decided to show up. Why couldn’t it be now though, Katsuki could just send him in there first, surprise the hell out of her and then he could find out what she was up to. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she still wouldn’t come after him but at least it would buy him some time to think of an escape plan.

“Bakubro!” Eijiro yelled as he slung his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace and for once Katsuki went willingly, allowing the redhead to crowd into his personal space. “Was looking all over for you but it was like you had vanished, then poof here you are,” he babbled excitedly as he stepped back, smiling wide and flashing his sharp teeth. His eyes were a little unfocused, his cheeks flushed like he was already drunk. It would be worrying, considering how long he had been at the bar but Denki was filtering around him, Katsuki was surprised he wasn’t already slurring his words. “He was probably busy with a certain little devil,” Denki teased, bumping his shoulder against Katsuki’s and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. It wasn’t too hard a push but it knocked him forward slightly, his mind still stuck on what Y/N was planning.

Eijiro laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck and darting his eyes off to the side. “Yeah, sorry about that man. If I had known she was going to go all out like that I would have warned you”. Groaning Katsuki pulled his eyes away from the corridor she had disappeared down and turned his attention back to his friends. “It’s fine,” he grumbled. So shitty hair knew she was up to something but he doubted she would have told him everything. Well he hopped not anyway. Katsuki really didn’t like the idea of her talking to his best friend about their sex lives. It was bad enough all the girls gossiped about that stuff as it was, he didn’t need Eijiro hearing about his likes and dislikes in the bedroom and he definitely didn’t need Denki finding out and trying to talk to him about it.

“Here we go!” Hanta said cheerfully, appearing next to Katsuki with four bottles of beer clutched in his hands. Katsuki took his with a mumbled thanks, taking a long swig of it. With a frown Katsuki turned, suddenly remembering how all this shit had started and punched the other man hard in the arm. “Ow! What the hell man?” Hanta cried out, clutching at the spot and looking at Katsuki in confusion. “Least you deserve, fuck face,��� he snapped angrily, glaring at Hanta. It was silent between the four of them for a few awkward seconds then suddenly Denki was laughing, doubling over and clutching at Hanta’s other arm. “Said...he...wouldn’t...forget,” dunce face managed to get out between laughs and Hanta frowned, grumbling under his breath about accidents and not knowing.

Eijiro looked between the three of them, clearly confused by what was going on. “Erm, what did I miss?” Katsuki just grunted, taking another swig of his beer and wishing it was something stronger because he felt like he would need it if he was going to get through tonight. Pulling in a deep breath Denki seemed to calm himself down, turning to Eijiro with a dumb smile on his face. “Hanta here tried to hit on Y/N,” he barely managed to get the words out before he started laughing again, doubling over and still clutching at an uncomfortable and slightly annoyed looking Hanta. “Oh,” Eijiro mumbled before taking a long drink from his bottle, looking away to the bar and refusing to meet anyone's eye. That was weird, even for the redhead and left Katsuki wondering if something had happened on the mission that Katsuki wouldn’t necessarily be happy about if he were to find out about it.

“I didn’t know. None of us recognised her with that get up. I didn’t do anything,” Hanta whined, turning to Katsuki with desperation in his eyes. “I know that ass hat, why you only got hit in the arm and not the face,” he growled out angrily. Why couldn’t they just drop it? Katsuki was trying not to think about her right now and these idiots were not helping matters. Plus he really didn’t want to think about Hanta hitting on her because that was a sure fire way to get him angry and as on edge as he was that wasn’t the emotion he wanted to be feeling right now, especially not when he knew Hanta hadn’t known who he was making eyes at. None of them had. Katsuki’s phone chimed in his pocket, the unmistakable sound of a text coming through pulling him away from the ongoing conversation.

Katsuki quickly dug his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the others as Denki continued to tease Hanta and the other man tried to defend himself, Eijiro just staying strangely quiet instead of trying to break them up like he normally would. It was a text and a photo, the words ‘it’s rude to keep a girl waiting’ clear across his lock screen but he couldn’t see what photo she had attached. Feeling an odd mix of excitement and apprehension, Katsuki opened his phone and went straight to his messages. The photo took up the majority of the screen, Y/N sat on the sinks with one hand cupping a breast whilst the other was between her spread legs. Her head was thrown backwards, mouth open on a gasp and sharp fangs on clear display. Her wings were gone, no room for them where she was lent back against the mirrors and Katsuki could clearly see her tail wrapped around her phone in the reflection. She looked stunning, like everything naughty and depraved in the world and Katsuki desperately wanted to be between her legs, gripping her hips and trailing biting kisses up her exposed neck.

“I need to piss,” he rushed out quickly, shoving his bottle at Eijiro as he pushed his way past a still whining Hanta and laughing Denki, not bothering to look back as they complained about his rudeness. Katsuki quickly made his way across the room, shoving his way through the crowd and ignoring everyone who so much as huffed at him. By the time he made it to the door marked for the toilets Katsuki was an agitated mess, shoving it open with more force than was necessary and letting it swing back to hit the wall with a loud bang. Katsuki doesn’t slow down, barely taking the time to make sure he was heading in the right direction before he was striding down the corridor and towards the men’s room. It’s only when he’s stood in front of it that he pauses, taking a deep breath in an attempt to gain back some sort of control over himself.

He felt like he was kissing it, his mind all over the place and the constant shift in the intensity of his emotions leaving him reeling. He should go, text her back with a simple no and just forget the last thirty minutes of his life. She would stop if he asked, if she thought he was really uncomfortable with something. They knew each other’s limits and though they all liked to push them they would never step over them with explicit permission. That’s what it would be if he went in there, his consent to whatever madness she was about to unleash on him. As much as he wanted to blame it on that newly acquired quirk of hers Katsuki knew he couldn’t. He was clear headed, his mind completely his own without the intense insistent arousal clawing at his mind. This was his choice to make, good or bad, this was all on him and if he went through that door he would have no one to blame but himself. Letting his breath go, Katsuki gently pushed the door open and stepped into the mens room.

[sweetnsour1]

Just imagining Katsuki (or any of the boys really) being so proud and hyped when you finally land a job you’ve been searching for 5+ months to make me feel better 🥰

Long story short, I FINALLY LANDED A WORK FROM HOME JOB TODAY!!! It’s been a long 5 months and I was feeling dejected but I finally got one that pays decent too.

My husband and my cousin were so hyped for me saying how proud they were but when I told my recently turned very religious mom she said “happy for you, is legit??! Praying 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼” and she sent a voice memo asking why I didn’t tell her yesterday when we FaceTimed and kept it a secret. I told her I found out today but I was so excited and now I feel 🫤, like my own mom, that’s all she had to say? Not even a “proud of you”. She said some other stuff too (not sure how comfortable you are talking about religion) but she made me feel like the hard work I put in wasn’t because I did it. Like it was already determined for me because she was “praying for me this whole time”.

Idk I could say more but I’m gonna sleep and pretend the boys would be super stoked for me and wouldn’t discredit the hard work I put in myself 😌💖

Sweet baby bubs 🖤🖤🖤

That’s exciting and I’m so proud of you! It is HARD to keep trying for months. I relate to this so hard, but let’s keep this about you ;)

“Of course you got the fucking job.” The arms that he had snaked around your waist when he walked in the room tighten. He had waited patiently, chin on your head while you finished your call with your mom. One of the only times he would fall silent rather than defend you, knowing that if he were to join in on the “conversation” that had been echoing through the room…he wouldn’t be able to hold back and you would be the one paying the price for his lost temper in the end. You leaned back into his chest, but said nothing…remnants of your initial excitement flickering feebly after dealing with the suffocating nature that was your mother.

“Proud of you.”

His words tickle at the side of your neck as he peppered kisses from your ear to your collarbone, releasing tension you didn’t realize you were still carrying from the short but seemingly endless phone call.

“Also the idiots are dragging us out for dinner to celebrate.”

You laugh, knowing exactly which idiots and exactly which restaurant because this wouldn’t be the first time Katsuki’s friends bubbled over with excitement for you. Their reactions were always so spastic in their affection and support, while his was steady and unchanging. He was the foundation that their rough hugs and shouts of praise could stand on.

And you…you were the reason he had sent a rare message in the Favorite Idiots group chat in his phone hours ago, after you had called to tell him the news first. He was always eager to share how amazing you were with the people that…annoyingly enough…mattered to him the most. He knew that they were as much your family as he was. He knew that Kirishima’s bruising hugs left you happy although gasping for air. He knew that Kaminari’s shouts and dumb fucking jokes made you giggle…although dunce face needed to learn to keep his fuckin’ hands to himself. He knew Mina’s weird ass public cuddling made you look embarrassed and smothered although you never pulled away.

He just knew they could help fill whatever gaps he couldn’t, so if it meant getting 54 extra stupid messages and having to herd a few drunk heroes into Ubers and guest rooms later tonight…he’d gladly let them ruin his night so he could save yours.

[happylittledrabbles]

Like a Virgin

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Erwin Smith

Rating: 18+ (DNI IF A MINOR)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 9K

AO3

—

Levi is very sexually frustrated from all of Erwin's wandering touches and wants to know for sure whether Erwin is into him or not. He questions the commander on if he has a woman he wants to have sex with, and Erwin doesn't reply. That's the moment Levi finds out Erwin is a virgin. He proposes to "help" Erwin learn how to have sex before he goes on to have sex with the woman of his dreams.

Shenanigans ensue.

—

“Wine or champagne?”

Levi eyed the two bottles in front of him, his eyes then sliding to the blond man behind the desk, his uniform a size too small for him. But he knew that Erwin liked it like that since it showed off his body. He’d never admit to it, though.

“Wine,” Levi said ultimately, motioning to the opaque bottle. Erwin obliged with a nod of the head and leaned forward, the leather chair groaning underneath his shifting weight. He took the glass and let a bit of wine dribble into it, handing it to the black-haired man to taste.

“Didn’t know you were a sommelier,” Levi remarked with a scoff, swirling the wine in the cup and giving it a sniff before tipping it to his lips. He smacked them together, the oaky wine reminiscent of the nights when he and Erwin would get too drunk after a successful mission—their arms around each other, their hands roaming to places that only lovers should touch…

“Are you drunk already, Levi? Your face is flushed,” Erwin asked, breaking Levi out of his daydreams. He reached across the desk, brushing his fingers across Levi’s cheek (as if that would make the problem better) (it absolutely didn’t). “You only had one sip. Are you sick?”

“Get your hands off me, old man,” Levi grumbled, swatting Erwin’s hand away even though he desperately wanted to grab it and lead it to the places where his mind went a few moments ago. His blush had worsened tenfold, causing Erwin to laugh and raise a caterpillar brow in pleased confusion. He took Levi’s cup and filled it up the rest of the way before handing it back.

“I’m not that old,” he retorted, standing up from his office chair to lean on the edge of the desk with the cup of wine he poured himself in hand. He kicked the tip of Levi’s boot playfully before taking a sip of the wine, wincing away from the cup. “Wow, this is pretty strong.”

He was far too close for comfort to Levi—he could practically smell that warm, masculine cologne he peppered on himself every day. It seemed as if every sight, every smell, every taste, every touch...everything was reminding him of the fact that he was horribly frustrated. Sexually frustrated, that is. Erwin was too much of a dunce to ever figure out that Levi wanted to take him apart and put him back together in a fit of pleasure. He’d never figure out that those lingering touches when they had dinner together weren’t a mistake, but a silent plea to never let go. No, Erwin’s nickname was—lovingly—meathead in Levi’s mind. It was getting to the point that all of Erwin’s playful touches and sexual remarks seemed mocking, as if Erwin was saying, “Yeah, you’ll never have me. But every woman on the Scout Regiment wants to fuck me. And I’ll fuck them, too.”

That gave Levi an idea.

“Speaking of old,” Levi continued, taking another sip of wine. If he was to have this conversation, he’d much rather carry on drunk so that he could blame it on the alcohol if—when—it went south. “It’s about time you get a wife. Any women on the Scout Regiment looking like a nice piece of ass?”

“Levi, how crude,” Erwin admonished, his eyes widening in surprise. “You shouldn’t refer to women that way.” Levi would have missed the slight blush rising in Erwin’s cheeks if he hadn’t already been staring straight into his soul for any hint of a reaction at the mention of women.

“Ah, sorry,” Levi apologized, thankful that Erwin wasn’t the type to reply to that gross comment with an equally grosser response. “Well, anyway, we’ve been in close quarters with them for a while. Any lucky ladies get a little closer?”

Erwin uncrossed and crossed one leg over the other as if he couldn’t decide where to put his legs, taking a heavy swig of the wine. It seemed as if Erwin had the same idea as his friend: get as drunk as possible to answer this line of questioning. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Erwin, don’t play dumb with me,” Levi said, leaning his elbows forward on his knees and sipping his wine until there was less than half left. “You can tell me. I’m your best friend. At least I hope.”

An unreadable look crossed Erwin’s face—what Levi wouldn’t give to crawl inside his mind right now. The blond ran a heavy hand down his face, letting out a groan that made Levi sit back up as straight as a pole. His hands drifted into his lap in case the little friend in his pants made an appearance, as it so often did when he was alone with Erwin, getting drunk like this.

“You…you are my best friend. Although that sounds a little juvenile.” Erwin chuckled softly before rolling his eyes. “Why are you so interested in my private life? For the record, it’s highly unethical for me to sleep with members of the Regiment.”

Levi tossed his head back in laughter. “We’re all adults. Shit happens.”

Erwin balked before shying away behind his desk, turning his back to Levi. His back was tense—the muscles surrounding his scapula rose through his uniform as he crossed his arms firmly. “You shouldn’t refer to making love that way.”

Levi stood up, tracing the edge of the desk with his fingers. Erwin was pissing him off. Why was he so defensive of his answers? Usually, men would jump to brag about their experiences at the mere insinuation of having sex with women. Meanwhile, he acted as if he’d never had sex before and was avoiding the question as much as possible. Levi just wanted to know if those lingering stares or tender touches meant something more, and he needed Erwin to tell him that he was taken so that he could be turned down without making a fool out of himself.

“’Making love’? You’re a big ol’ softie, aren’t you?” Levi sat on the desk as he watched the muscles of Erwin’s back tell the story his face was hiding. He polished off the last of the wine in his cup and set it gently down on the table. He kept his eyes on Erwin’s back, biting his lip and hesitating before finally saying, “It’s like you’ve never had sex at all.”

It was supposed to be a joke, one that would make Erwin splutter about to defend himself and spill all his sexual experiences. Levi was illiterate at reading Erwin’s facial expressions but had an advanced degree in literacy in reading his body language. He thought it’d be laughable to anybody to insinuate Erwin had never had sex. After all, anybody who met the man had hearts glowing in their eyes. But his shoulders hiking up to his ears, both of which promptly turned pink, and his arms quickly wrapping around himself were an obvious confirmation of Levi’s suspicions.

Levi was far too surprised to say anything or even move. His jaw went slack as Erwin shifted his body weight from one foot to another uncomfortably. The tension in the room was palpable, dripping from the ceiling and coating each man in a layer of unease. Erwin was a man of honesty. He’d never outright lie unless it’d reduce panic among the population or his cadets. He’d never lie to somebody of his rank, least of all Levi. So, the most he could do was stay quiet in the face of the accusation. If he stayed silent, he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t have to talk about it.

Except, Levi wouldn’t take silence as a complete answer.

“Erwin,” he pressed, the chair groaning as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He laced his fingers together as a hammock for his chin, cocking his head at Erwin’s statuesque figure. “Are you serious? You’ve never had sex?”

Erwin flinched at the claim, and he turned to the side, the lamplight creating a halo around his profile. His aquiline nose and thin lips were put on prominent display, and it took everything Levi had to not grab his face and turn it to face him. He needed to see what Erwin was thinking. He needed to parse out what the wrinkles in his face meant, what each flick of the eye signified. This discovery was the last thing he expected. He expected the secret to the Titans be discovered before Erwin’s more-than-intact virginity.

Erwin’s eyes were set on the floor. “I…it just never happened—"

“You’re approaching middle age, Erwin! What the hell do you mean?” Levi finally moved toward Erwin, grabbing his bicep and whirling the blond to face him. “You’ve never had one girlfriend? One woman you've liked?” He paused. “Have you even had your first kiss?”

“Of course I have!” Erwin was finally animated, and he tossed Levi’s grip off him and stepped back. “My Lord, Levi, you think so lowly of me.”

“Erwin, you are a fully grown, extremely attractive man who hasn’t had sex yet. People have flung themselves at you for years.” Levi tried to find another explanation for his shock, but all that came out was stutters and word vomit. He truly was at a loss for words.

Erwin pursed his lips before catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I just haven’t met the right person yet,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, I-I have, I simply…don’t know how they feel about me.”

Levi tried to catch Erwin’s eye, but the blond was resolute on keeping his gaze on a particular swirl in the hardwood.

“You’re kidding,” Levi scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “You’ve been waiting all this time because you’re scared to admit your feelings? We’re on the brink of death every day, Erwin. We’re going on a mission tomorrow. Sure, it’s a run-of-the-mill mission, but you never know what could happen. One moment you’re there, the next, you’re being crunched on by a Titan like potato chips. I think you’ll survive a little confession.”

Erwin turned his body completely to face Levi, catching the shorter man off guard with the sudden confrontation. “Well, what about you? What’s your entire sexual history? I can’t be the only one on trial here.”

Levi shrugged. “The Underground is an interesting place. Prostitutes are very forgiving for your first time. They give you a discount.” He laughed at the pained expression that crossed Erwin’s face and waved his previous statement away. “I’m kidding. There were some cute girls down there. And then here…well, I got around as I rose the ranks.” He deliberately left out the part where he fucked and got fucked by plenty of men, deciding that was too forward. He needed Erwin to come to him first.

Erwin braced himself on the edge of the desk once Levi finished recounting his sexual tales, his knuckles turning white with how tightly he was gripping it. Levi’s eyes fell onto the other’s hand, the veins and bones in his hand rising above his skin, causing his mouth to go dry. Was this the right thing to do—to ask Erwin about his love life? Wouldn’t he be disappointed when Erwin told him all about the sweet woman he was in love with, the woman he wanted to lose his long-overdue virginity to? Especially after all those yearning gazes shared between them, the times when Erwin draped a blanket over him after he passed out on top of his desk, the handmade teas and horrible cookies (but they tasted perfect because Erwin made them)? Suddenly, Levi wanted desperately to renege on the topic of conversation.

He was about to ditch the entire thing when Erwin cleared his throat, his face pinkening. The lamplight couldn’t lie; the commander was actually getting embarrassed.

“But…what if they’re disappointed? I should’ve…done it…a while ago. I should be good at it.” Erwin covered his face with his hand, the other still digging its nails into the wood desk.

Levi’s whole mindset changed then. He could work with this. He could…do something with this. He had a brilliant idea.

“Men your age and older still can’t fuck right,” he said softly, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he slowly approached the commander. “With how caring you are, I’m sure you’ll do better on your first time than any man who’s had sex a million times.”

Erwin’s blush worsened, but instead of bashfulness, it seemed as if he was surprised. “You think I’m caring?”

Levi hesitated. “Well, yes. You do everything in your power to protect your cadets.” Now, time for the hardest part of the plan. He swallowed thickly before sliding his hand across the table, his fingers meeting Erwin’s before sliding on top of the back of his hand. His eyes flicked from their enjoined hands to the panicked blue eyes in front of him, analyzing them for any sort of resistance. “And you do everything to protect me. So, if you want…I can teach you how to fuck. Before, you know, you go and have sex with the right person.”

His eyes fell to the floor after he finished speaking, disappointment setting in. Sure, if Erwin agreed to this, he’d get to fuck the love of his life and finally see him in his true, pleasure-fueled element. He’d probably even get closer to him. But this was all a precursor to Erwin going out to “make love” to the woman he actually liked, and Levi would have to watch from the sidelines with a pained smile as they settled down and had beautiful children. Sure, Levi wanted to fuck Erwin. But he wanted to love him, too. He wanted a life with him—as much as a life within the walls could afford. And he wanted Erwin to love him back.

Erwin was silent, but he didn’t move his hand, nor his eyes. His eyes stayed on their hands, evaluating, dissecting, inspecting. Finally, he inhaled sharply, causing Levi to inadvertently tighten his grip on Erwin’s hand.

“You’d be willing to teach me?” he repeated. Levi nodded. Neither of the men was looking at each other. They didn’t have the courage to, even as full-grown adults. “Physically, you mean? Not with a chalkboard?”

Levi’s next move was a surprise to him, too; it was as if he was watching his own body from afar as he gripped Erwin’s wrist and flung him into his desk chair before settling in his lap, his legs snug between Erwin’s thighs and the arms of the chair. Erwin’s thighs provided a wonderful seat: they were big and strong, the muscle providing the perfect padding for Levi to sit back and still reach the blond’s flabbergasted face. His hand gripped Erwin’s tie and brought him closer, the tips of their noses kissing.

“Does this answer your question?” he murmured, and Erwin quickly nodded, looking like an obedient puppy in the hands of his equal.

His eyelashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to Levi’s lips. “When will the lesson begin?”

Oh, you fucker, Levi thought before diving in and massacring the lips he’d been dreaming about for far too many years. He never in a million years expected Erwin to accept his advances, and yet, unbelievably, it was happening now, in front of him, and not all in his head. He didn’t have time to process the fact that he was kissing his best friend, and that his best friend was reciprocating (with tongue). He had accepted that this was a dream, and he’d treat it that way until it was confirmed that it was real life—presumably after they’d both finished their “lesson”.

Erwin was an extremely good kisser. Whoever he’d shared his first kiss with evidently taught him well, or he was experienced in that department, or he was a fast learner. Or all three. Whatever it was, all he knew was that just a kiss was getting him hot and heavy. He sighed into the kiss when he felt Erwin’s hands on his back and hip, big enough to span from one shoulder blade to the other and for his palm to cover Levi’s entire hipbone. Unwittingly, Levi bucked his hips in Erwin’s palm, trying to get closer to his burning hot touch, only to elicit a delicious groan from the other.

“Fuck.” Erwin bit down on Levi’s bottom lip, his hand gripping onto the back of Levi’s shirt as if he were hanging on for life.

Levi was on fire. The kiss was like a drug. It was nothing like the drugs peddled in the Underground; no, it was far stronger. It was deadly because he would rather sacrifice his lungs than come up for air.

“Levi,” Erwin all but growled, causing Levi to grind his hips down in reply. All that did for the commander was make his eyes roll back and call out another “Levi,” except this time, his voice was soaked in need.

“Oh, what you do to me, Erwin,” Levi whispered. He ground his hips down again, making Erwin see stars. The fronts of their pants were equally and painfully hard at this point, and if it weren’t for their pesky clothing getting in the way, Erwin would’ve finished a long time ago. Levi relished in the feeling of Erwin’s hardness pressed against his inner thigh, making sure to give it ample attention whenever he moved his hips because it gave him the perfect reaction from Erwin: a drawn-out moan that left Levi lightheaded.

Levi wasted no time in tossing Erwin’s tie aside and ripping open his shirt, the buttons popping off and clattering on the floor. The clattering did nothing to distract him from Erwin’s muscular chest, however. He’d seen Erwin shirtless before, of course. Living in such close quarters, they’d oftentimes had to change in the same room. Levi began to wonder if Erwin looked at him the same way he had admired the blond; his broad chest, imposing upon the other males in the room as if to say “I know I’m stronger than you, and you do, too,” his bedhead locks hanging limply in front of his coarse eyebrows when they’d been woken up far too early, the gray sweatpants they wore during training that might as well have been lingerie. They left little to the imagination, and Levi was about to find out if the bulge he’d have to pry his eyes away from every day lived up to its potential.

Erwin slipped his hands up Levi’s shirt hesitantly at first, but when Levi leaned into the touch with another whirl of the hips, his tender touches turned ravenous. Levi’s shirt was also not spared from their hungry love affair, joining Erwin’s torn shirt on the floor. Erwin’s lips detached from Levi’s and reattached to his neck, suckling on the soft skin until Levi was forced to dig his fingernails into the blond’s shoulders to not alert the guards mulling around outside. It was dark out; all the cadets were asleep—however, he didn’t want to risk anything.

“This is very un-virgin-like of you,” Levi murmured before a groan overtook his voice, his spine curving so their chests were pressed against each other. “You’re—mmm—good…”

Erwin chuckled a reply, his hands roaming Levi’s chest until his thumbs got stuck on his nipples, which were hard and tantalizingly pink. All Erwin saw was candy.

“Do you like being touched here?” Without wasting a breath, Erwin kissed a trail down Levi’s chest to place a gentle kiss on the nub.

“Yes,” Levi breathed, tossing his head back as his arms moved to hug Erwin’s head to his chest. “Erwin, this is so—h-hey!”

Erwin’s teeth snagged on his nipple, and the blond looked up with a smirk of mischief.

“Apologies. My mistake.”

Levi scoffed. “Bullshi—a-ah!”

Levi wasn’t a small man—frame-wise. He was muscular and broad and sturdy; however, Erwin’s hands made him feel like a delicate plaything, they were so big. He was starting to feel his dominance wane, especially with the way Erwin made him moan like a bitch in heat. He was always in control whenever he had sex, and the only way to do that…was to make Erwin the bitch in heat.

“Have you ever gotten a blowjob, Erwin?” he whispered, placing butterfly kisses on Erwin’s head as the blond busied his lips with Levi’s nipples and chest. However, those lips stilled at that question.

“I…I have,” he replied reluctantly, raising his head to meet the other’s eyes.

Levi was a little disappointed because if Erwin already knew how a blowjob felt, that meant he’d have to out-blow the first person. Not that that would be a challenge, but still.

“So you’re not entirely a virgin,” he mused, drawing swirls in Erwin’s gelled back hair. If his hair wasn’t sweat-soaked and messy in his eyes by the time they’d finished, Levi would consider it a job badly done.

“I-I suppose not?” Erwin stuttered, confusion evident in his tone. “Why, what are you—”

Levi was already on his knees before he finished his question, ready to answer it. He quickly undid Erwin’s belt, licking his lips at the bulge he had very clearly felt against his leg a few moments ago.

Erwin immediately began to panic, his arms flying out to try and stop the other. “Levi! Y-you don’t have to—”

Levi was quick to interrupt. “I want to,” he replied. He was practically drooling, the clinking of the belt and the zipper unzipping music to his ears. It was pornographic just how much Erwin’s cock was straining against his drawers—the poor fabric was hanging onto his hips by a thread. It only took a short wave of his hand against the fabric crotch for Erwin’s hardness to emerge, leaving Levi breathless and confused.

How the hell am I going to fit this inside me?

“Don’t look at it like that,” Erwin said with a frown, breaking Levi out of his thoughts.

“No, Erwin,” Levi cooed reassuringly, brushing his fingertips against the vein encircling his shaft. “I’m just admiring it.”

Erwin didn’t seem convinced until he felt Levi’s fingers against them—then, all insecurities vanished. His whole body stiffened, his fingers digging into the leather arms of the chair.

Levi smirked at the whitening knuckles in front of him, his eyes drifting up to meet Erwin’s heated gaze. “Christ, if that’s how you react to a touch like that, I wonder how you’ll react to this…” With that, he gripped Erwin’s cock firmly and gave it an experimental stroke.

“A-ah!” The reaction was better than what Levi could ever imagine. Erwin’s body was pulsing, his eyelids dropping with lewdness and his gruff chest voice coming out in spurts. “Fuck…”

“Hm,” Levi hummed, leaning over to give the head a chaste kiss.

“L-Levi!” Erwin gasped. “Stop playing with me!”

“Oh, but it’s so fun,” Levi replied, his never-ending smirk on display on his lips. It only disappeared once he took the head into his mouth, letting the saliva he accumulated in his mouth drip down the shaft and gather around his hand that grasped the base. He gave it another pump as he sucked happily, lubricating it both to provide less friction for Erwin and for himself when he’d eventually have to put it inside himself. It was hot in his hand and heavy against his tongue, and all he was thinking was how it’d feel slapped against his cheek. But of course, he didn’t expect a virgin to do that for him.

“Mm—mm! Levi, ple-ease…” Erwin begged, his body racked with overstimulation.

“Pleath whath?” Levi asked, his voice muffled from the cock in his mouth. But Erwin’s answer was interrupted by another bout of moans that dribbled out of his mouth once Levi returned to dutifully sucking, taking more of the shaft into his mouth. He continued to descend, the corners of his mouth burning by how wide his mouth was stretching to accommodate Erwin’s size, not to mention how he was on the verge of gagging with how deep the blond’s cock was rubbing in his throat. And he was only halfway down.

This is going to be difficult, Levi thought, but he couldn’t focus on thinking when Erwin was making such a huge racket above him.

He pulled up enough to speak, saying, “If this is how you react to the beginning of a blowjob, then the one you got before must’ve been horrible,” before diving back down to his previous spot. He heard Erwin begin a retort, but he stuck out his tongue and stroked the vein in the corner of his mouth as a dirty trick, effectively shutting Erwin up with his own groans.

Even though he was focused on going as deep as possible, he couldn’t help but look up and try to make eye contact with Erwin, who was watching him with such a hungry expression, Levi couldn’t help but reach down into his pants to try and relieve some of the pain in his crotch as well.

However, after a few more strokes and gulps of Erwin’s shaft, he could barely prepare himself for the pressure at the back of his head or the gag that came from the back of his throat.

GACK!

“E-Er–“ was all Levi could say around the thick shaft in his mouth before Erwin’s heavy hand pushed him further down, burying himself deeper in the dark-haired man’s throat.

“Fuck, Levi!” Erwin groaned, his head tossed back in ecstasy. “It feels so…fuck! I’m so close…”

Erwin’s last curse came out as a growl, lighting Levi’s cheeks and groin on fire. However, his throat was also on fire, but for an entirely different reason. He liked control, but he couldn’t deny that being manhandled this way, feeling the sting in his hair where Erwin gripped it, made his body electrified. And he also couldn’t deny that the feeling of a cock lodged in his throat, as much as it was sexy, was also extremely uncomfortable.

“Er—!” he began, his voice muffled before being interrupted by another gag. His taps against Erwin’s leg quickly turned to slaps just as Erwin’s pushes brought him down to the base, his nose nuzzled into his golden happy trail.

“Oh, Levi!” Erwin exclaimed, suddenly broken out of his pleasure-fueled fugue state. He released Levi’s hair and the pressure on his head, leaving Levi to immediately lift off his cock with a lewd pop. He was left coughing while Erwin spluttered out apologies, his hands up in the air before one of them found a place on the top of Levi’s head. However, this time, there was no pressure. He pet the soft hair underneath his fingertips apologetically as Levi caught his bearings.

“I’m so sorry, Levi,” Erwin finally said after a myriad of unfinished sentences and stutters. “I-I got too into it. That’s never happened before…I—“

“No,” Levi finally said, his voice now hoarse. He wiped at the corner of his mouth, his hand streaked with saliva and precome. He took a moment to clear his throat before quietly adding, “I…I liked it.”

Both men could barely meet each other’s eyes, their faces as red as the candle flame dancing about on the desk.

Erwin was the first who dared to speak. “Uh, well, I—“

But Levi was quick to interrupt. “If that’s all it takes to get you to come, then we better move on.” He stood up, his hands dropping to his own belt as he held Erwin’s curious gaze. He dropped his trousers, leaving himself in just his drawers. “We wouldn’t want you to finish before we even got started.”

Erwin cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowing together as he took in Levi’s body. His curious gaze morphed into something darker, his clear eyes turning stormy as they dropped to Levi’s crotch. “Y-yes, we wouldn’t want that.”

Erwin’s hungry gaze sent shivers down Levi’s spine. He had wanted this for so long: to be admired, to be sexualized by Erwin. He wanted to be wanted, and that was exactly how it was going. Erwin was physically restraining himself from reaching forward and pulling Levi to him; it was obvious from how tightly he was gripping the chair. It was perfect.

He carefully climbed back onto Erwin’s lap, sighing at the feeling of the blond replacing his hands to their rightful position on his hips once again. The position was the same as before, except now, Levi could feel Erwin’s leaking cock pressed against his asscheek, wetting his drawers.

“Nervous to finally lose your V card?” he asked with a smirk, reaching behind him to give Erwin’s cock a playful tug, earning a delicious grunt from the other.

“Should I be?” Erwin replied, cocking his head as he gazed up at his friend with lowered eyelids and heavy pants. His chest was rising and falling erratically the more Levi fondled him.

“No,” Levi cooed, reaching up to push down his drawers. He leaned forward and kissed Erwin’s cheek, delighting in the whimper that escaped those thin lips. “I’ll take care of everything.”

He lifted a hand to his lips, sticking two fingers inside his mouth and wetting them dutifully with his tongue. If he wanted to walk the next day and not bleed, he’d have to stretch himself very attentively.

“What are you doing?” Erwin asked. He was watching Levi’s every move with heated glances.

Levi chuckled between the fingers in his mouth, pulling them out and reaching behind himself. “Sex between men requires some stretching and lubrication,” he said as he slowly pushed a finger inside himself, letting out a low hiss. “When you have sex with the woman of your dreams, you probably won’t have to endure this. Women make their own lubrication, and if she’s not a virgin, she’s probably loose enough. Just give me a second.”

Even though he knew he shouldn’t rush the process, he didn’t want Erwin to think he was a boring lay, so he inserted a second finger, feeling a slight sting. Even though he only wanted to fuck Erwin in that moment, he at least wanted it to make it enjoyable and sweet for the man who was losing his virginity. He was sharing an important moment with his best friend, and even though sex between men wasn’t really counted as real sex, he might as well educate Erwin on real sex. So that was what he decided to do.

“You’re not exactly small, Erwin,” he continued, using his other hand to stroke Erwin as he fingered himself. It’d been a while since he last had sex. Perhaps a couple of years. Ever since he met and bonded with Erwin, he hadn’t had eyes on anybody else and wouldn’t let anybody touch him. In a way, he’d been saving himself for Erwin.

“You have to be patient with your lady,” he instructed, flinching each time he pumped his fingers in and out. He was loosening up, just not at the desired pace. “She might not handle it well.”

“Levi,” Erwin rasped, breaking Levi out of his teaching persona. “I want to do it.”

“Uh—” This was the last thing Levi expected, especially out of Erwin. “What?”

Erwin snaked a hand down Levi’s hip down to cup his cheek, his hand dangerously close to his entrance. His fingers inched up to stroke Levi’s wrist, which had since stilled from shock. He craned his neck up, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked at his friend.

“I want to prepare you,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t I learn how to do this?”

Levi hesitated. “Er, well, you probably won’t have to do this with women—”

“Levi,” Erwin interrupted, his eyes closing with annoyance, “for fuck’s sake, shut up about women. Let me help you.”

Levi’s ears went bright pink at that, and he had no choice but to let his fingers slip out and let his hand hang limply by his side. Erwin hardly ever cursed. It’d have to be a life or death situation for him to curse. And yet…

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Erwin warned, lifting his hand to his mouth and wetting two fingers like he watched Levi do. He dropped his hand to Levi’s entrance once his fingers were sufficiently coated, pushing in his fingertip as he held his breath.

“You’re not,” Levi said after sucking in a sharp breath. Erwin’s fingers were much bigger than his own—he knew this very well after dreaming about them for years. They felt even bigger than in his dreams. “Keep going.”

Erwin pushed in until he reached his knuckle and slowly pulled out, using Levi’s sighs and breaths as a guide as to whether he was doing well or not. He decided to risk it and push in a second finger before the saliva coating it dried up, earning a squeal from Levi.

“Are you okay?” Erwin asked hurriedly, but all Levi responded with was throwing his arms around his shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Erwin…” Levi’s voice was shaky. Erwin had never heard him like this. Levi always had a monotone voice, one that was reassured and calm. Even when he yelled, it was controlled. He was always in control. Well, it was only fair. This experience was a first for him, and it was a first for Levi to not be in control.

“Should I continue?” Erwin asked again.

Levi let out a shuddering breath. “I-inside every man’s ass, there’s a spot. And when you touch that spot, it makes you see stars. A-and…” He shifted his hips backward, causing Erwin’s fingers to brush up against a walnut-shaped mound raised from Levi’s walls. Yet again, Levi let out a cry, his fingers digging into Erwin’s back and leaving behind crescent-shaped tattoos.

“So, it’s here?” he asked, pressing into that spot again as if it was nothing, but it was everything to Levi. His mind was foggy, and his head was light. He was so confused; how did Erwin find his spot so quickly and how does he continue to find it so easily? Big fingers are good for that reason, but it seemed as if he knew intuitively where it was.

“Are y-you sure you’re a…a virgin?” he asked, moving his hips to match the pump of Erwin’s fingers. For a virgin, he was finding the spot over and over with impressive accuracy and stroking it with beautiful mastery.

Erwin chuckled and buried his nose in Levi’s dark mop of hair, taking in the smell of his hair mousse and salty sweat. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

After a few moments of continuous pumping, Levi instructed Erwin to scissor him open with another joke about him being well-endowed.

“I think you’re a virgin because women are too scared to handle your giant dick,” he said with a breathy laugh.

“Oh, I doubt that,” Erwin replied, giving Levi another scissor stretch. He fell silent in his thoughts for a moment before beginning, “You know, women aren’t my—”

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Levi cut in, his hand gripping Erwin’s wrist. “I’m ready to put it in.”

“P-put—“ Erwin spluttered, his face matching Levi’s pink ears. “O-oh, right.”

It was almost as if he just remembered what was happening, that he was going to have sex. It was frustratingly endearing.

“We’ll go nice and easy,” Levi whispered, his tone no longer having its usual bite. He wasn’t that drunk on horniness—he knew how much of a big moment this was for Erwin.

“Okay,” Erwin replied quietly. He sucked air through his clenched teeth when Levi gripped his cock against, standing it up as he hovered above it. “You can stop whenever you want.”

“I know that,” Levi replied hurriedly. It almost felt as if he was losing his virginity, not Erwin. He let out a long breath before lowering his hips, but his chest seized once his entrance made contact with the head of Erwin’s cock, the sheer size of it making his body shut down.

“A-ah,” was the small whine that escaped Erwin’s lips. It invigorated Levi—he had control. It was all he needed to lower his hips further, letting out a groan with each inch that entered him.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunted, his legs trembling the more he lowered himself. However, as strong as his thighs were, they were no match for Erwin’s size, and they gave out, causing a smack to echo off the walls from Levi’s legs giving out and landing him in Erwin’s lap yet again, except this time with his full size inside him.

“Ngh-!” It was like ripping off a bandage—it was better to get it over with all in one swoop, but damn, did it hurt. It was confirmed: Levi would be walking funny the next day for sure. But it couldn’t have felt any better. He was finally joined with Erwin. And he couldn’t wait to fuck him into oblivion.

However, Erwin was suspiciously quiet. Levi tried to lift his head from being buried in Erwin’s gelled hair, but Erwin’s stiff hold on him prevented him from checking in on the blond or even seeing his face since it was pressed against Levi’s chest.

And then came the warmth flooding inside him. It was strange—did Erwin grow a few inches in the few seconds he was inside? But it felt like liquid… which sent Levi into a panic. Was he bleeding that badly? Was he hemorrhaging? If he died because of internal bleeding from a giant cock instead of going down in glory from a Titan, he’d have some hands to throw with God.

However, he quickly pieced together what was happening when he felt Erwin’s entire body shivering and a guttural groan escape from the back of his throat, reverberating throughout Levi’s entire body.

Erwin came.

“Erwin?” he whispered. He bit his lip apprehensively, unsure of how to approach the sensitive issue. Usually, he enjoyed a good creampie. But he needed to have his mind fucked out before he got to the point where he could tolerate the slimy mess inside him, and he was hardly there. Now, he was just uncomfortable, even if it was Erwin’s, the love of his life’s slimy mess.

Erwin wasn’t talking. He was a statue.

Levi took his perpetual silence and interpreted it as shame. He rubbed Erwin’s shoulder reassuringly and kissed the top of his head, making sure to keep his hips still to not overstimulate the poor man.

“It’s alright, Erwin. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of men do this, especially during their first time. It’s completely nor…” Levi trailed off when he realized something dire: Erwin wasn’t getting softer. He was preparing himself to lift off Erwin’s lap and have that difficult conversation, but how the hell was he supposed to get up with that thing still lodged inside him?

Erwin wasn’t just not getting softer; he was getting harder. Enough to stretch Levi open even more, causing the man to hiss both in pain and in confusion. What the hell is going on?

Before Levi could realize what was happening, he was being lifted into the air and subsequently flipped over, his face pressed into the cold hardwood desk. His legs flailed about before finding their place on the floor, his arms pinned behind him in Erwin’s strong grasp.

“Erwin—?!”

“Sorry, Levi, but I’m not done.” Erwin’s voice was gravelly, and Levi couldn’t see his face to match the voice to the expression he was making. “Mind if I come in you again?”

“W-wait—!” However, a powerful thrust cut him off, replacing his objection with a shout mixed with a lewd moan. His chin and knees thumped against the desk, and his softening erection was at full mast yet again. “Erwin, wait!”

Erwin was about to pull out again—he had become a machine—but stopped upon hearing Levi’s pleas. “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

How dare you fucking ask that when I’m leaking like a hose over here? Levi thought angrily. He shook his head to the best of his ability and clarified, “N-no, just…what happened?”

“Oh.” Erwin chuckled bashfully, and when Levi turned his head, he could see the blond rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

The damn brute, acting all shy.

“Well, that was embarrassing. You caught me off guard. But I recovered. So, shall we continue?”

He pulled out an imperceptible amount before pushing back in, giving Levi a mouth-watering taste of what was to come.

“Erwin,” Levi breathed, his cheek heating up the wood underneath it as he tried to meet Erwin’s eyes. “Fuck me until I can’t stand.”

Levi liked to be in control. But something that he’d learned very quickly from Erwin (who knew he’d be learning something from the virgin?) was that sometimes…it was nice to give up control. He had been in control his entire life, especially now as a captain. Maybe he could let somebody take the reins for a while.

The small smile that crossed Erwin’s lips sent chills down his spine. “Duly noted.”

The subsequent thrust that followed made Levi’s knees buckle, but Erwin’s hold on his wrists pinned to his back held him in place long enough for Levi to barely recover in time for another back-breaking thrust.

“E-Erwin!” he cried, his skin prickling with each smack and squelch that hit his ears. “Erwin, fuck, it feels—ngh, s-so—"

Both his legs and voice were trembling, his legs close to collapsing at the feeling of Erwin’s size stuffed inside him and pushing out his semen with his thrust. The previous semen provided the perfect lube, and it only added to the lascivious sounds filling the room. Erwin’s groans and grunts were short but dominant, each one causing Levi’s body to seize up and his hole to tighten, which then caused Erwin to groan more. It was a vicious cycle, one that brought each man eye-rolling waves of pleasure.

“You’re so tight, L-Levi,” Erwin murmured, leaning over Levi’s body to lick the shell of his ear. He gave another rough thrust, relishing in Levi’s unhinged reaction. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”

Levi was about to reply with a sarcastic remark, but Erwin never gave him the time as he ramped up his pace and continued to give his ear—one of his erogenous zones—special attention. Erwin let go of Levi’s wrists, to which the captain responded by spreading his arms out and digging his nails into the wood. However, Erwin didn’t leave Levi’s hands unattended for long. In between hard thrusts, he slipped a hand over Levi’s, interlacing their fingers from the back and running his thumb over his knuckles. He kept his other hand staunchly on Levi’s hip, leaving angry red marks for Levi to enjoy afterward.

“You’re going to have to buy me a new desk,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the slapping and wet sounds behind them. “You’re leaving scratch marks. That’s pretty…ugh…s-suspicious.”

“Erwin!” Levi begged, both out of frustration and pleasure. He wanted Erwin to stop teasing him, but at the same time, that was the main thing that was sending him over the edge—other than the punishing thrusting pace, of course. “Fuck me, f-fuck me, f…fuck…mmm—! Harder!”

“As you wish,” Erwin replied. He complied beautifully to Levi’s request, each thrust leaving a fresh set of raised red circles on Levi’s ass. “A-ah, Levi…it’s getting quite hard to move…”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Levi demanded. Yet again, Erwin complied, leaning back over and meeting Levi’s cherry red and bitten-up lips with a sloppy kiss that only added to the wet sounds in the room. “Mmph!”

“Levi,” Erwin growled hoarsely in between kisses, causing Levi’s toes to curl in his boots. “Levi…are you cl…mmm…close? Can I...c-can I come inside?"

Levi nodded quickly, which only added to his disorientedness. He couldn't tell down from up—that was Erwin's effect on him. "I-inside...plea...please!"

They were breathing into each other’s mouths at this point, too afraid to separate lips and lose that connection between them. Levi nodded, his hand drifting down the desk.

“My…my cock…” Levi mumbled before a moan overtook him, his hand stopping in its movements as his body went stiff again.

Erwin understood right away. He acted quickly, wanting Levi to come at least once before he finished again. He moved the hand on Levi’s hip down, down until his fingers brushed against Levi’s leaking cock. Within a second, he had it in his grip, giving it a tight pump and utilizing the precome as lube.

Levi’s reaction was immediate, his voice coming out as a shrill squeak and his body ransacked by tremors. He could barely see anything between his sweaty hair clumping in front of his eyes and the way his head was being tossed about with each brutal thrust. All he knew was that he needed one more thing, and he was done.

“Levi,” Erwin whispered again, planting a kiss on the corner of Levi’s lips. “I like you. I like you so much. I’ve liked you for so long…”

That was all Levi needed. With all his erogenous zones activated, plus the romantic confession from Erwin, it was the perfect concoction that brewed up a warm, familiar feeling in the depths of his stomach. It only took the combination of a pump of Erwin’s hand and a thrust from his brilliant cock to send him over the edge.

“Er-Er—” His voice cut out just as his vision was overtaken by blinding stars, his come splashing against the inside of the desk and leaving it covered in the evidence of his and Erwin’s romantic encounter. His entire body seized, and every time he felt the fluid movement of Erwin’s abs moving against his sweat-slicked back, it overstimulated him to the point that all that came out of his mouth were pathetic whimpers. With the next movement, he used all the strength in his neck to move his head over to their conjoined hands and bit down on Erwin’s knuckles to silence himself.

It only took two more thrusts for Erwin to finish. He had been holding back ever since they first started back up again, but he needed Levi to enjoy this as much as he was. And his captain very clearly did. His captain.

His orgasm was quieter than Levi’s, but it wasn’t any less dramatic or took any less of a toll on his body. His hips stuttered forward, his chest erratically falling and rising to compensate for the lack of breath in his lungs. He grunted into the nape of Levi’s neck as he buried himself deep inside, spilling his second seed of the night inside his captain. His captain.

Levi was very much in that fucked-out-of-his-mind state of being because he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of being filled to the brim with that sticky substance a second time. It was the perfect feeling to close out the night, followed by the worst feeling of the night: Erwin pulling out. He let out a pathetic whine, and he wasn't even ashamed—he loved Erwin's cock that much. He felt so empty, and he had to deal with the sensation of Erwin’s hot come spill out and wind down his leg. He’d have to take a bath right after this. But his legs could barely stand, and he could hardly hold onto the desk; all his limbs had turned into jelly.

Luckily, Erwin caught him by wrapping his arm around Levi’s stomach before he could collapse, seating him in his lap. Since when had Erwin sat back down in the chair? Levi didn’t know—all he knew was he had been thoroughly and totally fucked from the fact that he had no sense of linear time. All he knew was that he was still madly in love with Erwin, and he had fallen deeper in love…if that was even possible.

“Hey,” Erwin finally spoke up after a few uninterrupted minutes of them breathing heavily. “You’re the right person I was talking about earlier, Levi. You’re the person I’ve been saving myself for.”

Levi was so lightheaded, he felt as if his head could up and float away at any moment. But the second he heard Erwin say that, heard his meatheaded commander confess his love for the second time, he was all-too grounded.

“I…I think I figured that out pretty quickly, Erwin,” Levi replied softly, still catching his breath. He slipped his hands over the blond’s that were sitting over his stomach, and he leaned his head back to rest against Erwin’s shoulder. He looked up to see those blue eyes he’d wanted to focus only on him for so long, and he earned it. Now, those blue eyes never left him. “No normal man would’ve accepted my proposal without being a little attracted to men.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I’m not normal,” Erwin replied, hugging Levi closer to him. “I’m glad you taught me to love you, Levi.”

How could Levi not feel all warm and mushy at that? As much of the stern man he was, he wasn’t heartless. In fact, Erwin reminded him just how big his heart could be at times, as if it was too big for his chest and would burst at any moment.

“Okay, but you seriously saved it all these years for me?” Levi asked, lifting up and turning slightly to be able to look Erwin in the face. “Ever since we first met? Why didn’t you make a move earlier?”

Erwin sighed deeply and shook his head. “I was honestly about to lose it before I met you. I had a girlfriend, and I was satisfied with the thought that I’d be living out the life people expected of me. Get a nice wife, have a couple of kids, and retire from the Regiment or die with the honor of leaving behind a nice family and being a strong man.” He looked up, his eyes never having shone so brilliantly before. “But then I met you, and I realized I needed to share such an intimate part of myself with somebody I truly cared about. And as for taking so long…”

He snickered and tapped Levi on his behind. “That’s your fault. I dropped so many hints…”

“You dropped so many hints?!” Levi interjected. “I was dropping hints every time we were alone together! Your nickname in my head is meathead because you never understood anything!”

“Er, I—” Erwin hesitated, his eyes dropping as he gathered his thoughts. “Now, wait a minute—”

“Ugh, it doesn’t matter,” Levi sighed, lifting a hand to Erwin’s cheek and stroking his famously sharp cheekbone tenderly. “It took too goddamn long, but we’re here. We…” He bit his lip before saying, “We made love.”

Erwin let out a bark of a laugh and threw his arms around Levi, pulling him in for a tight, bone-breaking hug. “And you said I was a softie!”

“Be quiet,” Levi demanded, pushing himself off Erwin’s lap and grabbing a tissue from his desk to clean himself up to the best of his ability before pulling his drawers and pants up. “By the way, how did you know where to touch me? It barely felt like I was having sex with a virgin.”

Erwin smirked. “I read pornography.”

Levi whipped around, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. “Those pictures? There are ones with males?”

“Once you’re the commander, you can get a lot of things normal people can’t,” Erwin replied coolly.

Levi went silent, fumbling with his belt absentmindedly as he imagined Erwin masturbating to gay porn late at night. Dare he imagine that Erwin was thinking about him while masturbating, replacing the men’s faces with theirs? He was far too exhausted to get hard again, but damn it, could he still use his wonderful imagination. “Well, you won’t need that now that I’m here.”

Erwin chuckled and shrugged. “I suppose not.”

Levi finished fastening his belt, his cheeks heating up as he tried his best to ignore Erwin’s fond gaze on him.

“Stop staring at me and get back to work.”

“Oh, Levi, won’t you stay?” Erwin pleaded, reaching out to tug on Levi’s pants.

“With your come in my ass? I don’t think so,” he replied with a scoff. His first reaction was to smack Erwin’s hand away, but instead, he lifted it to his lips and gave his knuckles, which harbored a clean red bitemark from earlier, a soft kiss. “Besides, I only came in to drop off those documents and talk about them for a little bit. My side mission was to seduce you. I’ve been pretty successful today.”

Erwin grinned and nodded. “I have been thoroughly seduced.”

Levi was so in love. All he wanted to do now was get back in Erwin’s lap and kiss him until they both passed out. But he had to control himself. He just took the man’s virginity, they confessed both their feelings to each other, and he had to cope with the fact that he wouldn’t be able to walk straight the next day. He was exhausted.

He walked over to Erwin’s closet and pulled on one of his shirts since his had been ripped to shreds. It was far too big for him, which was both a blessing and a curse. He was far too tired to care about the curse—besides, it was late. He could run to his room without anybody seeing him, right?

“I’ll see you in the morning, Erwin,” Levi said after buttoning up the shirt.

“Can’t I seduce you to sleep in my bed tonight?” Erwin asked, standing up to fasten his belt and pad over to Levi. He towered over the captain, that pleading expression leaving Levi at a loss for any rejection words.

“I…” He’d never be able to say no to that face. “I won’t make it a habit. But since I took your virginity…” He tugged at Erwin’s belt, stumbling him forward enough so that his nose reached his downturned chin. “I can make an exception for tonight.”

Before Erwin could react, he added, “But I have to clean myself up. I’ll be back after my bath. You should probably take one, too.”

“Can’t we take one together?” Erwin asked in that pleading voice, but this time, Levi put his foot down.

“The entire Regiment probably heard us rutting about. Us going to the bath together is pushing it,” he said. When he saw the gloomy look that crossed Erwin’s puppy-dog face, he pulled the blond down by the back of the neck and smooched him hard enough to leave the other dazed. “I will see you in an hour. Goodnight.”

He shuffled out of the room before Erwin could object, closing the door and rushing down the hallway. He was smiling to himself, so excited that he made it out without being seen that he missed Moblit’s entire body in the middle of the hallway, bumping into him hard enough to get the other to grunt.

“Hey—oh, Levi!” Moblit exclaimed, quickly lowering his voice since it was late. “What are you doing out here at this hour?”

He stepped back, and it was comical how quickly his eyes dropped from Levi’s face to the oversized shirt he had on. It was less comical how they slowly drifted down the hallway to take in Erwin’s slightly ajar office door and how the lights were still on inside the room. Not to mention, Moblit certainly noticed how disheveled and sweaty Levi looked.

“What are you staring at?” Levi snapped, tugging the shirt tighter around his body as he shouldered past Moblit. “Get back to your post before I inform Commander Erwin about this.”

“So you’d go back to his office?” Moblit asked, hiding a snicker behind his hand. He barely saw the kick in the back of the knee coming, crippling him to the floor as Levi continued on his way.

“No more smart remarks from you, soldier,” Levi grumbled, slipping into his room and hiding behind the door. He walked to the bathroom and looked himself in the face: he was far too red. He knew he could trust Moblit to keep his secret—it didn’t make the encounter any less embarrassing.

Before long, he was bathed and clean. He made sure that the hallway was clear before sprinting down and slamming Erwin’s bedroom door closed behind him. He sighed, but before he could even turn around, Erwin’s hands were on him, around his waist, pinching his hips.

“You took too long.” Erwin had probably fallen asleep; his voice was gruff but melodic.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Levi whispered, turning around in his arms and taking in the refreshing cotton scent of his shirt.

“Mm.” They shuffled and practically fell onto the bed, Erwin out like a light before Levi could even adjust his position. He was convinced that they’d get up to some more funny business before falling asleep, but perhaps losing his virginity in addition to orgasming twice in one night was a little too much for the commander. It would have been too much for anyone.

Levi, fully believing Erwin was asleep, fit himself into his side. His head found a place on his muscled chest, the same one he had been envisioning himself laying on for far too long. And here he was, with that chest all to himself with no need to share it with anybody else. He draped an arm around Erwin’s waist and hugged him tighter.

“I like you, Erwin,” Levi whispered as he shut his eyes.

Erwin smiled to himself in the dark, his eyes fluttering open and casting down to take in Levi’s frame snuggled up against him. I like you, too, Levi, he thought. More than you could ever know.

[katsukikitten]

I present to you overworked. A comfort one shot I made hella quick for @mindninjax myself and anyone else who needs some bakugou comfort today. Please enjoy and let Bakugou be here for you if no one else can. 😊

Header by me!

Your phone softly vibrates on your desk as your eyes burn from staring at a screen filled with information that is familiar, information that you should know but just cannot retain. 

Or focus. 

So your phone is a happy distraction as you reach for it, only to be slightly annoyed by to a message from your hot headed friend. 

Grumpyasshole: Oi, haven't heard from you in that stupid ass group chat all week. Dunce face and shitty hair wanna know what's pissed in your cheerios 

Tongue in your cheek you debate on replying. You had ignored a slew of messages from your friends, in the group chat and even your dms sat smiling faces trapped in their little bubbles but you had always turned your phone face down. Too caught up in stress to be able to fulfill any social quota but your friends must have been desperate to convince the token grump of the group to message you. Privately at that. 

In a matter of seconds your thumbs slide across the virtual keyboard, knowing you could be honest with Bakugou, that the Pro hero could handle any sort of emotional load with ease. 

You thought it most likely because he did not care in the first place to store the baggage, at least not anywhere for long. 

You: Just feeling really run down from work. I think I'm over my head but probably too prideful to admit. Lol. Please tell everyone I'm sorry, that I'm just busy and I'll be back on my bullshit hopefully by Friday. 

Before you can even set your phone down you see that Bakugou leaves you on read. Your snort softly as you shake your head, tossing your phone aside for work. 

"Typical." You mutter to yourself. Reaching for your iced coffee only to find it empty. You debate if you should take a trip to get more. On one hand the air, despite the rain would do you good, you're sure your deskmate would gladly take a coffee. On the other, everyone in the office would stuff your hands with bills and credit cards begging you'd bring them some of that sweet nectar back. No one would care that you wouldn't haven't a hand for your umbrella and your hair would get totally fucked. 

So you decide to suffer in silence, as you always do. 

Hours slip through your fingers before your eyes glance at the small clock on the bottom right hand side of your computer. Steadily counting the minutes in the small banner. You sigh. Bringing your head down between your arms as your fingers lightly fist your hair at your nape. You felt as if you accomplished nothing, what with how much was left. 

At least your desk was clean and your shirt was cute, a good view for a few spine numbing minutes. You think you smell caramel wafting through the air, a part of you annoyed that your desk mate would venture the rain for her normal caramel latte without offering 

This is how Bakugou finds you when he approaches your desk, a sneer settled on his handsome features. Dirt and sweat clinging to his skin and the dark fabric of his hero suit. He crosses his arms, long gone are the obnoxious grenade gauntlets as his chest puffs. 

People in the office are staring at the blonde, his jagged domino mask making his garnet eyes that much more intense. Tension rises in the air as you're so oblivious, still collecting yourself silently praying that when you look back up the clock would read closer to five. 

"Oi." His voice is a deep rumble, not belonging in the office. No it belonged in the living room of your crazy packed house to one of your many roommates. It belonged at a bar, nagging that it's time to go when you were too drunk to fend off any prying hands, pestering you about your feet as he dragged you home. This voice belonged in the kitchen fussing at Denki for the stupid memes he puts in the group chat when all of you were 'right fucking here'. 

This voice did not belong in the office and so a part of you thinks you're seriously losing your shit before you glance up at the clock. Time moved like a sloth for you since the last you looked only ten minutes had passed. Kronos laughing at your plea of having time continue to move as light speed only to seemingly stop. 

"OI! Is yer head so far up yer ass ya can't fuckin hear me now, Princess?" Wait, who was using that nickname? 

That nickname thrust upon you by that grumpy asshole roommate once he saw how "high maintenance" you were when clearly you just cared about yourself for yourself. He did it as a jest but it made your whole body heat and go rigid every damn time. 

And he took notice in it. 

Delight even. 

And took notice in the way you hadn't been putting in much effort for yourself. Not taking the time for your hair, or your skincare routine that you forced on the whole house. Everyone dewy in their own right. How you look disheveled and bewildered now as you turned to face him. 

Large eyes going doe like, mouth forming in the smallest O that had him shifting his weight from one foot to the other because of his darker, lingering thoughts. 

How would you sound when he was buried…

He cuts the thought off with a pop of his skin, pulling you to your feet from your desk. 

"What are you doing?" Your voice cracks from shock, worry and a bit of venom leaks through but you make no effort to break free. 

"Wrap this shit up. I told yer boss I need your dumb ass for something." 

"Like what? I-" Bakugou cuts you off by leaning in close, eyes dark as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear. 

"You need a fucking day off. So I told your boss to fuck off and that you're coming home with me." His tone absolute. So you save your last bit of work, clock out before Bakugou passes you your jacket. He glares into the glass of your manager's office and you notice him crumble beneath that infamous burning gaze. 

Part of you wonders what Bakugou had really said, wonders if you'd still had a job. 

The two of you stand under the awning of your office building. The rain coming down in sheets, thick enough it almost blurs the cityscape.  Bakugou sighs, tension leaving his body as he tilts his neck. It cracks from the effort. 

"So what...what are we gonna do?" 

"I'm going to take your stupid ass home. Force you to shower while I order take out, then I'm going to set your overworked ass on the couch and we are going to watch that fucking movie you never shut up about. Got it Princess?" He fixes you a glare and is extra careful to drag out your nickname ever so slightly as he leans towards you. Your faces are close together, your heart in your throat as you try to push down these stupid, fleeting feelings you've had for the hot head since the six of you moved into that almost run down house. 

But you never could shake them. 

You senses fill with spiced caramel, easing the tension of your shoulders. 

"G-got it." 

[motthe]

drunk in love | bakugou katsuki

a/n: found an old drabble for our favorite angry boy. hope you enjoy it!

He hadn’t meant to show up this late, but that dinner with the old hag and his family couldn’t be rescheduled on such short notice. His parents had busy careers and were dead set on celebrating his graduation the next day.

Of fucking course, that just had to be the same date for Dunce Face’s party.

He hadn’t planned on going in the first place, but [Name] had other plans. Dumb brat always had to go and do the exact opposite just to spite him.

“We’ll all be busy soon enough anyway. This might be the last chance to see everyone in the same room together!”

Who fucking cared? They’d been living together for years now, hanging out every night. He could stand to miss some lame ass farewell party. The only reason he was here was to pick you up anyway.

He kept the thought in mind as he walked up the steps leading to Short Circuit’s front door. Still dressed in his suit from the ritzy restaurant he’d been dragged to, he kept the collar of his jacket tight in one hand as he raised the other to knock.

Before his knuckles could come into contact with the wood, he picked up on Shitty Hair’s voice.

“[Name], please get off the table! You’ve had way too much to drink!”

“You’ve had too much drink, ha!”

The sound of her slurred speech had him slamming the door open, wide eyes taking in her wobbling form on a living room table.

With the crash of the door against the wall, everyone turned, including her. Even drunk off her ass, her eyes lit up at the recognition of her boyfriend, smile wide as she opened her arms towards him.

“Katsuki!” she cheered, stumbling off the table and into a heap on the floor. Kirishima caught her by the armpits, unable to keep her knees from scraping the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you idiots?!” Bakugou yelled, throwing his jacket to the side and rushing to check her over. Kirishima let go, allowing her to slump forward into his grasp.

Once Bakugou was sure there were no cuts or bruises from the fall, he glared at the classmate in question.

“Why’d you let her drink so much?” he growled.

Kirishima held up both hands in surrender.

“Hold on, I just got here like an hour ago and she was already hammered! I was busy helping Midoriya get Shouto and Uraraka to his car and Denki said he’d watch her!”

Said teen was passed out on the couch with a buzzed Sero and Jirou on either side of him. They saluted their buddy, higher than the fucking sun. Alcohol was never their favorite anyway.

“What about you two, huh?!” he griped towards them.

“We were upstairs smoking,” Sero said, shrugging.

“Everyone else had already left when I got here, so I thought Denki was the only one around at the time, I’m sorry, man,” Kirishima apologized, clapping a hand down on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off, grunting as he dragged his girlfriend into his lap and hoisted her into an easier carrying position. She giggled through the entire process, grabbing a hold of his tie and twirling it around her wrist.

“Why you always gotta be a meal on legs, babe?” she asked, cheek pressing against his warm shoulder. “Fuckin’ leftovers at a buffet next to you.”

“Shut up, dumb ass. Dude you eat before you downed every bottle in sight?”

He jostled her when she didn’t answer, warranting a whine and a few kicks of her legs.

“I only had a few shots!” she grumbled, tugging at the tie.

He glared down at her, ignoring the puffiness of her cheeks as she pouted.

“How many are a few, brat?”

She looked away as if in thought before holding up both hands, four fingers staying pressed against her palm.

“Six?! Are you fucking kidding me?! You can barely tolerate three!”

“Well you weren’t here!” she scoffed, crossing her arms and turning away. “Didn’t even wanna come and see our friends—rude head-ass. Fuck off.”

“Did you eat something?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“M’ not stupid!”

“I didn’t ask if you were! What the fuck did you eat then, huh?”

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, cushioning her face back against his shoulder.

“Stuff you cooked last night “ came her soft murmur, eyes watering.

He sighed, repositioning her in his arms before turning to look at the trio on the couch and then Kirishima.

“I’m taking her back home,” he said. “Can you handle the rest of these idiots?”

His coeval waved him off.

“Mina’s already on her way back from dropping Momo and some others off. She’ll help if I need it, but it’s just Denki—“

Four heads turned as the golden blond sat up and proceeded to vomit between his legs.

“Gross,” [Name] snickered into Katsuki’s neck, still playing around with that damn tie. “Least I don’t get sick.”

“Tell me if you feel it coming on or i'll kick your ass,” he grumbled to her, turning towards the door. The suit he wore was specially made by his dad, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Mitsuki if it was covered in leftover stir fry.

He asked the group if she brought anything with her. Jirou fetched her purse, explaining she didn’t show up with a jacket when he asked.

She was in for an earful when she was sober. It was freezing outside for fuck’s sake! At least by his standards.

“See you dimwits later,” he called to the rest as he exited, bending down and nudging his snoozing girlfriend. “Grab my jacket, boozer.”

She grunted, glancing at the ground he positioned her towards. She fumbled twice before getting a good grip on the jacket.

“So bougie,” she sighed, weakly flapping it in the air.

“Shut up.”

“Mm, make me.”

He eyed her smirk, feeling another damn tug on his tie. He wasn’t some fucking dog on a leash; she was just asking for a bad time.

“Drive safe!” Sero called. Kirishima said the same as he shut the door behind him.

Bakugou paused on the porch, setting his girlfriend down for a moment. She wobbled, leaning against the wall as he pulled his jacket out of her hand.

“Give me your arm, dumb ass,” he commanded, time soft.

Head tilted to the side to rest against something sturdy, she blinked, clearly out of it.

“What?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket,” he ground out, swiping her wrist and guiding into the correct sleeve. Pulling her back into his chest, he finished dressing her and hoisted her back into his arms.

As he walked down the street towards his car, she burrowed her face into his neck. A hot sigh from her lips sent a shiver down his spine.

“Oi, don’t slobber on me.”

“Shut up,” she whined, rubbing her face deeper. He chuckled at the response.

Stopping to dig out his keys, he positioned her more or less on his hip like a toddler, bicep flexing as he cradled her ass with his elbow, fingers tight under her thigh. She held fast to his neck like the clingy brat she was, grumbling lightly as he jostled her to unlock the car and open the passenger door.

As he carefully deposited her in the seat, especially gentle with her head and the roof of the vehicle, he caught her murmuring something under her breath.

“Speak up,” he said, leaning over her to buckle her seatbelt.

A short sniff impeded the action, rendering him to pull back and look at the teary-eyed drunkard with a mild gaze.

“Alright, come on,” he rumbled evenly, raising a hand to cup her face and squatting down. Her eyelashes fluttered, dislodging a few tears. He wiped them away before they could stream down her cheeks.

“I’m not a mind reader,” he grumbled, rubbing under her eye tenderly.

“You’re mad at me,” she choked out, voice barely above a whisper.

“Who the fuck said I was mad?”

“I can just tell,” she sobbed, hands twisting the edge of her blouse and wrinkling the fine fabric.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing her hands with both of his.

“I’m not mad at you, brat. The old hag just got on my nerves tonight.”

Sniffing again, she went to wipe her nose on the sleeve of his jacket. He caught her before she could do any damage. Reaching over her for a second time, he flipped open the center compartment and procured a pack of tissues. A quiet thank you was muttered as he pulled one out for her, setting the rest in her lap for future use should she need them.

“Was she mean to you?”

“Hah?”

“Your mom.”

He shrugged, blowing a breath over his shoulder as he glanced around the empty street. It was late, not even stragglers would be out at this time.

“Just her usual self, nothing extreme,” he said.

“Something’s bothering you, though.”

God, how the fuck could she be so perceptive when she was fours shots over her limit? It was terrifying, honestly.

“Nothing for you to worry over,” he grunted, rising to his full height. “Now quit crying so we can go home. It’s been a long day.”

When he was sure there wasn’t a single tear pooling in her eyes, he shut the door and rounded the car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he double checked her seatbelt before clicking his secure and igniting the engine.

“...Can I hold your hand?”

He paid her a simple glance as he pulled the car away from the curb, having not seen her meek side for some time now. Being in a relationship for years did that to a couple. It was hard to be shy when you nearly knew everything about the other. Didn’t mean she didn’t get him riled up every now and again or vice versa.

Sighing long and deep, he slung his arm over the center console, allowing her to pull his hand into her own and clutch it tenderly in her lap. He tried to focus on the road more than that damn, cute smile lighting up her face.

By the time they arrived at their shared apartment, she was conked out against the window still clutching his hand like a lifeline. He maneuvered it out of her grip, reaching in the back to grab a small brown, paper bag before getting out and closing the door as quietly as possible. Heading around to her side, he sat the bag atop the car as he unbuckled her. She whimpered as he pulled her into his arm, curling into his warmth as the cool air blew over her.

He nudged the door shut with his hip and leaned his head over the car’s roof, grabbing the handle of the bag by his teeth.

Getting inside took a good bit of maneuvering, but he eventually opened the door, silencing the security warning with the six digit code. He made sure to deposit her in their bedroom before locking up and dropping off the bag in the fridge for tomorrow.

When he was back in their room, she’d already climbed under the covers, eyes soft as she blinked blearily at him.

“Tch, at least take your makeup off, brat. It'll get on the pillow.”

“I just wanna sleep,” she complained.

He rolled his eyes, loosening his tie and tossing it in the closet to be picked up at a later date.

“Just stay there, dumbass.”

He disappeared into the bathroom before reappearing with a wet rag, sprayed with her makeup remover. She didn’t complain as he wiped her down, turned to face him better when his knuckles bumped her shoulder.

Peering one eye open she vaguely noticed he’d changed into a tank and sweats before falling into a haze as he cleaned her up. He went ahead and stripped her of his jacket, pulling off all her fancy clothes until only her underwear remained. Tucking her in, he brought her clothes and his to the laundry before finally calling it a night and double checking the security and locks.

As he slid into bed, she slid into him, grabby as ever. It was a wonder she was managing to stay awake after dozing off so many times.

He let her get comfortable, her head finding her favorite place on his pec and curling into his side. His arm cushioned her neck to the point he felt they wasted money on her pillows. She never used them when he was around. Damn brat.

Exhaling a breath of relief, he brushed her hair back and turned his head carefully pressing his lips against her head.

“Night, Teddybear.”

She was already asleep.

[taehyungsgrowl]

Okay idk but like what if dumb reader wanted Duncan and Nate to get along so the three go clubbing and they all get hammered and it leads to a three way?

i think i've thought about this ask at least once a week since i've gotten it and that was probably around 2019 tbh

maybe reader is still w nate and... duncan realizes nate isn't so bad and... wants to try to be friends (for readers sake, ofc)

and maybe.... duncan is a little nervous so he just keeps buy rounds of shots to help loosen him up

GOD

okay hear me out:

nate in a white button up shirt, a few buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, messy hair, lopsided smile.... and duncan in a very similar manner but ofc he's wearing black - a little yin yang moment for y/n.

both of them more than a little drunk and just so damn touchy

maybe... they're outside the club waiting for an uber and... nate and y/n are making out... her hands in his hair... his hand cupping her face... little half giggles half moans from both of them

they barely register duncan is right there...

and duncan cant tear his eyes away - and it isn't in a sense of jealously perse... but he is focused on the way their lips brush against each other and he feels warm and fuzzy and... part of him wants to be kissed like that

but he doesn't say anything

until y/n and duncan feel his gaze on them... his lips hanging open a little... hooded eyes and flushed cheeks...

and maybe its because he's a little drunk too, but before he can stop himself he finds himself saying, "i wanna kiss too..."

to his surprise, nate pulls him in by his belt loops and dunc doesn't dare protest

then in their uber, with y/n in the middle... they each have a hand on her thigh.. inching higher and higher.. both whispering dirty things in her ear (or trying to but there's a lot of giggling too)

and when they stumble out into her apartment there's barely anytime to think because they're all hammered and horny

and maybe duncan liked kissing nate more than he ever thought he would but he'd deal with that later bc right then and there he was working on taking off his belt and not trying to miss a second of y/n taking off her dress or take his eyes off nate's v lines as his shirt was discarded

and their threesome would be a little messy and giggly with limbs everywhere but they'd all have so much fun

and the next morning... as bashful as duncan felt to wake up in between y/n and nate...

kinda felt like... this wouldn't be the last time they'd end up like this..

[httpswwwtbhkcom]

Your demon Guardian

Chapter 6: Back in The Underworld

... Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist] [Your Demon Guardian Navi]

Summary: Bakugo was assigned on being your guardian. As much as he hated to be your guardian, he had no choice. He was always by your side, being teasing yet protective to you. After a few months of knowing each other, he became very close to you.

Warning: Some wrong grammars, swearing, demon Bakugo, angst,

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Demon Bakugo, human reader,

Keys:

Y/n- your name, L/n- last name, ‘He’- is the unnamed boss of the underworld/Satan,

Reader: Neutral

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Prologue]

...

[Chapter 5] [Chapter 6(You are here)] [Chapter 7]

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Bakugo woke up on your bed, he tried to move his sore muscles but slightly failed. He looked at the desk to see you sleeping there. He tried to move again. Finally, he stood up. He carried your body to your bed. “Ughh..” He hissed. You shifted. He immediately shut himself up to not wake you up.

Once he finally placed you on your bed, a portal summoned immediately. “H- mhph!!!” Bakugo immediately covered their mouth and shushed them. He saw that it was Mina. “Right sorry.” Mina apologized. “Anyways, you need to go back here for a status update.” She said. Curious, Mina looked at you and shrieked. Bakugo pushed her back in the portal in instinct and went into the portal.

The portal behind Bakugo disappeared. Mina groaned. “What was that for? That Y/n looks so cute!” Bakugo glared at her. “You were fuckin’ noisy you might wake them up, racoon eyes.” He shot. “Jeez.” Mina rolled her eyes. She escorted him to ‘his’ office. On the way, Mina healed Bakugo for him and he silently thanked her.

Mina left Bakugo when he was inside ‘his’ office. ‘His’ back was facing the chair while ‘his’ face was facing the big glass window, making it difficult for Bakugo to see. Bakugo bowed nonetheless “What’s your status report, Bakugo?” ‘He’ asked. “I am in a good relationship with the human.” He said in a serious tone. Despite his heart pounding, he managed to get a good posture and tone. “But I met with an angel and tried to take them from my grasp. Luckily, the human is still with me unharmed.” He added. 

‘He’ hummed. “I see... Is that all?” “Yes boss.” “You may leave now. You must leave before the human, Y/n wakes up from their slumber.” Bakugo nodded and opened the door, but before he could leave-

“Ask Y/n if they want to join heaven or hell. If they choose heaven, eliminate them and their soul immediately so that it would be useless for the heaven to use them.” ‘He’ commanded. Bakugo inaudibly gulped, he nodded then left. Once he closed the door, he let out a breath he didn’t know he kept.

“Bakubro! Hey!” Sero waved when he saw him. Bakugo ignored him and rolled his eyes. Sero went to Bakugo with a grin. “I haven’t seen you since you left. What’s up?” 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” He spat. Sero faked being heartbroken. “Ouch. So, did you see the others yet?” 

“Except for Mina and you, no.” He answered, which slightly surprised Sero since he expected silence as a response. “Wanna see them then?” “No. Now leave me alone, I need to go back to the overworld.” 

“To go with the human again? They could wait.” The words seemed to tick off Bakugo. “Don’t talk like that about them..” He growled, sending warning sparks. Sero apologized and teased him. “I guess they made you soft~” Bakugo blushed and immediately covered and denied his feelings, saying Sero’s statement was dumb.

Sero rolled his eyes, obviously not believing him. “Pshh- fine. Come on, the Bakusquad miss you bro.” He pushed Bakugo to a room where the rest of the Bakusquad was. Bakugo was first greeted to the smell of alcohol. “EYYY! BAKUGO!!! WASSUP???” Kaminari slurred, holding an empty bottle in hand. “Oh hey Bakubro!” Kirishima greeted, smiling. Bakugo grimaced.

“What the fuck happened to dunce?” 

“He was dumped.” Mina answered. “He’ll get it over soon.”

‘Again?’ Bakugo thought.

“Pinky, I need you to make a portal back to the overworld for me.” He diverted his attention to Mina. “Already?” He nodded. ��CoMe OnnN!~ YoU Just CAmE!” Kaminari whined, drinking another bottle once again while crying about his ex. “Bakugo just wants to go to the overworld just to see his significant other~” Sero teased. There were ‘oooo’ in the room (Even Kaminari, while crying at the same time). Bakugo was flustered. “No, NO! I just want to get this over with.” He tried to explain himself. But the pink tint on his cheeks and ears was proof to them that he had a crush on you.

“Awe, Kiri look. Bakugo isn’t declining that Y/n is his lover!~ And come on! If you want this to ‘get over with’ then you would hang out with us a little longer!” Mina grinned. The pink became red in a matter of seconds. “THEY. ARE. NOT MY LOVER.” 

“Not yet~” Kirishima joined the teasing. It was amusing to them to see Bakugo get flustered over you. “COME ON! YOU TOO SHITTY HAIR?! YOUR THE MOST MATURE THAN THE 3 OF THEM!” He groaned. Kirishima only smiled innocently. Making Bakugo more irritated.

He cooled himself down and sighed. “Are you going to make a portal for me now, Racoon eyes?” 

“You forgot the magic word~” She said while taking a sip of her drink. “Ugh.”

“Can you please make a portal for me, Racoon eyes?” He gritted his teeth as he repeated his request with a please. Mina only laughed and asked to Kaminari, who had his phone up. “Did you get the recording?” She asked while laughing. Kaminari also laughed with hiccups and said. “Yeaaaaaa I think soo.” 

Bakugo tried to remain calm as they continue to laugh. “Are you going to laugh your ass of or are you going to finally make a portal for me?” He asked, tone slightly darkening. They didn’t seem threatened at all. “Nope! You’ll stay here for a while. Y/n could wait.”

Bakugo couldn’t do anything, he was mostly stuck in the underworld for a while until Mina makes a portal back to you again. He had read multiple books about making portals but haven’t made one. 

He slumped on the couch as his friends drunkily converse with one another. ‘This is going to be a long ass night..’ He thought, looking at somewhere else except for his friends. 

A few minutes had passed and he wanted to scream at his friends to make him a ‘DAMN PORTAL SO I COULD ESCAPE ALL OF YOU’ but that wouldn’t do any effect on them since- 1. They’re drunk, and 2. They’re used to it. 

So he decided on going to his room and grabbing a ‘how to make a portal’ book and try to make a portal himself if Mina wouldn’t help. He stood up and went to his room which was close. When he was in his room, he took a minute to check everything in his room, his bed, books, desk, chair, pictures, and many more. Once he was done gazing, he went to the shelf and started to find the book.

Not even a minute after, he already found the book. “Making a portal here could make serious damage if it fails. I should go outside then..” He muttered, then leaving with the book with him.

He went to a safe distance from the castle and tried to make a spell but failed. Who said powers are easy to control? It took his multiple tries on making a portal. After an hour had passed he had made a portal. “FUCKING FINALLY!” He shouted.

He cautiously poked his head out and looked into the surroundings, when he see that the place was your room, he immediately went through the portal and into your room. The portal behind him disappeared. And you were still asleep on the bed. He looked at the time and saw it was 3:45 in the morning. He sighed in relief and went to the desk to read more about portals, waiting for you to wake up.

‘Making portal by myself might benefit me more instead of using that Racoon eyes..’ He thought.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

If you want to be in the Taglist, feel free to ask! (If your name has a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you, Sorry):

@kuroffe ,

[flowerfan2]

Group Texts Are Ridiculous (Or, Five-0 Starts a Group Text)

McDanno, T, A03, 6k so far

Summary:  After Steve leaves Oahu to go find himself, Five-0 starts a group text to keep in touch while Steve’s away.  Picks up after the end of Season 10.

Notes:  This story is set in the present, following 10x22, but there’s no COVID in it...  I wanted it to be fun.  The story is complete and will be posted over the next few weeks.  Many thanks as always to my awesome beta, @perryavenue.

Chapter 3

June 25, 2020

JR:  What’s the name of Steve’s vet, the one he sort of dated?

QL:  If you and Tani were considering a threesome you could have let me know.

TR:  News to me.  But I suppose we could talk…

JR:  Shut up.  Eddie’s hurt, do you know the vet’s name or not?

TR:  Oh no, what happened?

JR:  I’m not sure, we just got back from a run and he’s limping a little.

DW:  Don’t go anywhere.  Keep Eddie still, I’ll be there in ten.

JR:  Shouldn’t I take him to the vet?

DW:  Just called them.  Stay right where you are.

JR:  Danny, Eddie’s fine, I can just put him in the truck.  He probably just stepped on something sharp.

QL:  Is he bleeding?  You should elevate his leg.

JR:  No, he’s not bleeding, it’s not that serious.  

TR:  Can you tell which paw it is?

JR:  Of course I can tell, it’s the foot he’s holding up when he tries to walk.

DW:  Did you not understand the part about keeping him still?  Walking is not keeping him still.  Sit with him, don’t let him move.

 JR:  We’re sitting on the couch, don’t worry, Eddie is fine.  He’s licking my face.  Normal Eddie behavior.  I think he actually forgot about his foot.

 TR:  Doesn’t hurt to be careful.  Junes, where did you take Eddie anyway?  Just the beach?

 TR:  Junes?  You there?

 JR:  Sorry, had to let HPD in.

 TR:  Wait, why is HPD there?

 JR:  Apparently Danny sent them.  With flashers and sirens.

 TR:  Of course, that makes sense.

 JR:  Um, no it doesn’t.  Eddie is fine.  And Five-0 isn’t supposed to use HPD for personal stuff.

 TR:  Yeah, we never do that.  

 SM:  What the hell happened to my dog?

  July 5, 2020

 LG:  I hate all of you, but especially Tani.

 TR:  It was just lemonade, Grover.

 LG:  No, it was iced tequila with one lemon slice floating on top.

 TR:  Party lemonade.

 LG:  It’s not very patriotic to get your elders drunk.

 TR:  No one said you had to drink it.

 LG:  Pretty sure you said anyone who doesn’t taste my lemonade has to go home.

 TR:  I had already had some lemonade when I said that.  I can’t be held responsible for my actions.  Face it, you’re a lightweight.

 LG:  Clearly not true.

 TR:  Then why did Renee make you leave early?

 LG:  We had another party to go to, as I told you last night. Where is everyone, anyway?  I thought Junior and Quinn were on today.

 TR:  I’m sure they’ll turn up any minute.

 LG:  Junior is still asleep, isn’t he?

 TR:  The lump under the blankets just cursed at me when I thumped him, so no, not totally asleep.

 LG:  Tell him to get his ass in gear and get to work.

 TR:  He says his head is exploding and he wants to die.

 LG:  Requesting a sick day, then?

 TR:  I’ll come in instead.

 LG:  Seriously?

 TR:  It’ll be better than listening to Junior puke all morning.

 LG:   I didn’t need to know that. How come you’re all chipper?

 TR:  I drank a bunch of water before I went to bed.  Like you’re supposed to.

 LG:  Hey, did Danny ever show up last night?

 TR:  Nope.  

  July 11, 2020

 LG:  I’m at the dock, which way should I go?

 DW:  Towards the boats.  The big floating things.

 JR:  I can see you, keep going the way you’re facing, then head south when you get to the end of the

row.

 LG:  South?  Sorry, forgot my compass.  

 DW:  Just listen for the music.

 TR:  I can’t believe you know the words to Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. At least my music is relatively current.

 DW:  Grace was just the right age.  It got stuck in my head.  

 JR:  And now it’s stuck in ours.

 <i>TR has changed the name of the group text to</i> <b>Shake It Off Dance Party</b>

 QL:  Be there soon.  Just found Jerry wandering in the parking lot.

 JG:  I wasn’t wandering, I was organizing my gear.

 TR:  What kind of gear do you need for a boat ride?

 LG:  You do realize you are asking Jerry this.

 JG:  By the way, thanks for including me today.  I’ve missed you guys.

 DW:  We miss you too.  But if you could all hurry up, that would be great.  I’d like to leave the dock sometime before it gets dark.

 QL:  Do you guys do a Five-0 summer outing every year?

 TR:  Nope, first time.

 QL:  Really?

 TR:  Yeah, generally we get enough excitement at work.  And Danny has some issues with boats.

 DW:  I actually enjoy boats, when there isn’t any gunfire, or sharks, or poison. I only have issues with <i>Steve</i> and boats.  Steve isn’t here, so we’ll be fine.

 QL:  So much to unpack there.

 JR:  Didn’t Steve set this up?

 LG:  He surely did.  The boat belongs to a friend of his.  I think he thought we all needed some cheering up.

 TR:  You mean he thought Danny needed cheering up.

 DW:  If Steve wanted to cheer me up he wouldn’t have sent me on a boat trip with all of you.

 LG:  Ouch.

 JG:  We may have a slight delay.

 TR:  What did you do?

 JG:  I didn’t do anything.  But Quinn was texting and walking at the same time and tripped.

 DW:  Is she ok?

 JG:  She didn’t fall in the water.  But her phone did, and she’s kind of pissed.

 LG:  Well we’ve got beer, that might help.

 JG:  Now’s she in the water.  She’s trying to find the phone.

 JG:  Quinn can hold her breath for a really long time.  Kind of impressive.

 LG:  For pete’s sake, what’s the point?  She’s never going to find it, and it’ll be ruined anyway.

 JG:  I said the same thing, but she didn’t listen.  Now she’s going to talk to the harbormaster.

 TR:  To report a dropped phone?

 JG: I don’t know, she just told me to wait while she went to talk to the harbormaster.

 TR:  It’s not like we need our phones for fishing.  We probably don’t get service out there anyway.

 DW:  Hardly matters.  At this rate we’re never leaving the dock.

  July 17, 2020

 SM:  Send help to this address ASAP. My phone’s dying.

 DW:  WTF Steve?

 SM:  Tow truck kind of help.  Flat tire.

 DW:  It’s four in the morning here.

 SM:  Oh, sorry.  Got up early. Not that early.

 DW:  Way to give me a heart attack.

 SM:  Sorry, didn’t mean to.  You okay?

 DW:  Course I’m okay.  I’m in bed, asleep.  Or at least I was asleep.  Now Eddie’s awake too and thinks it’s time to get up and go for a walk.

 SM:  Wish I was there.

 DW:  What?

 SM:  In bed, I mean.  Instead of stuck on the side of the road.

 DW:  Where are you, anyway?  You haven’t mentioned lately.

 SM:  Near Yellowstone.  Been camping. Did some hiking into the backcountry.

 DW:  Sounds suitably outdoorsy.

 SM:  Yeah.

 DW:  Your phone doesn’t seem all that dead.  You could have called AAA yourself.  

 SM:  I wasn’t sure how long it would hold out.

 DW:  It’s okay.  I miss you too.

  July 18, 2020

 JR:  So we’re all ignoring that conversation, right?

 TR:  Yes, because we work for them, and we have better things to do today.

 TR has changed the name of the group text to Luau Luau Luau

 JR:  Good to know you’re excited.

 TR:  Just cross your fingers there aren’t any murders in the next six hours. I want to be there when the pig comes out of the pit.

 SM:  You guys are doing a real luau?

 TR:  Yup.  Kamekona dug the imu.  Or had someone else dig it, probably.  But that sucker’s been cooking for hours already.

 JR:  Hey Commander, how’s it going?

 SM:  It’s good, Junior.  Thanks. How’d you get Kame to cook you a pig?

 TR:  It’s to thank Danny for helping him with some kind of permitting problem for his new place in Kapolei.  Kame found out Danny had never done the whole pig in the ground thing, so he decided to show him how it’s done.

 SM:  You’re telling me Danny got up at dawn to put the pig in the imu?

 TR:  I can’t swear to it, I wasn’t there.  But that was the plan.  

 LG:  I was there.  And no, Kame didn’t do any actual digging, he got Nahele and his friends to do it.  We did have to carry some rocks.

 TR:  What do you think, Lou?  Pretty cool, right?

 LG:  I am in favor of anything that combines fire and meat, you know that about me.

 SM:  Danny must not have gotten any sleep at all.

 DW:  That’s why they invented coffee.

 SM:  How much did Kame charge you for it?

 DW:  Nahele brought us all coffee from Island Vintage.

 SM:  What, did he come into some money?

 DW:  I paid him back, you dunce.

 SM:  I can’t believe you guys are putting together your own luau.

 DW:  Makes you miss home, doesn’t it?

 SM:  Sure does.  Danny, you’ve really never been to a luau?

 DW:  Not really.  Seemed kind of touristy.

 TR:  That’s why you have to do it yourself.  I made chicken long rice last night, and Junior’s bringing the lomi lomi salmon.

 JR:  I wanted squid but Tani likes salmon better.

 SM:  Good luck getting Danny to eat squid unless they’re deep fried.

 DW:  I’ll have you know I haven’t had a fried fish in ages.  I’ve been grilling mahi almost every weekend.

 SM:  You have?  That’s awesome.

 JR:  He does a good job with it, too.  It’s never dry.

 DW:  Thanks, Junior.

 SM:  Clearly my healthy eating has finally made an impression on you, Danny. I’m so proud.

 JR:  I think it was his doctor that forced him into it, but whatever.

 SM:  What do you mean?  What’s wrong?

 DW:  Nothing’s wrong.

 SM:  High cholesterol?

 DW:  Shut up, I can eat whatever I want.  I’m just choosing to be more aware of what goes in my mouth, that’s all.

 LG:  Right, that’s why you banned malasadas from the office.

 TR:  Maybe he’s just trying to maintain his girlish figure.  

 JR:  Are you really trying to lose weight, Danny?  Because you’re as thin as I’ve ever seen you.

 LG:  I’m not sure they sell those slacks in extra-slim, you better be careful.

 DW:  Can we please stop talking about me?  

 SM:  Seriously, is everything all right, Danny?  

 DW:  You guys are ridiculous.  See you later at the beach.  You can ogle me there as I stuff my mouth with kalua pork.

  July 21, 2020

 JR:  Tani, you up?

 TR:  You know you can just come home and get into bed with me, you don’t need to say dumb stuff like that.

 JR:  Honestly I just wanted to know if you were awake.  It’s one o’clock in the morning.

 TR: LOL sorry.  Yeah, Quinn just left and I’m trying to clean up.  We tried to make fancy margaritas and it looks like Whole Foods’ fruit section exploded in my kitchen.

 JR:  What’s a fancy margarita?

 TR:  You know, you add in something that tastes good and something that tastes bad.

 JR:  That can’t really be the recipe.

 TR:  It seemed like it.  Grapefruit and rosemary – who wants rosemary in their margarita?

 JR:  Ok true.

 TR:  Strawberry and jalapeno was pretty good though.  But we put too many jalapenos in.

 JR:  Sounds dangerous.  How many have you had?

 TR: A good amount.  When are you coming home?

 JR:  Don’t know.  Adam and I are still parked down the road from the restaurant where the victim died yesterday.  Danny thinks whoever was responsible, the assistant chef probably, will break in tonight.

 TR:  Sounds fun.

 JR:  I’m bored out of my mind.  Ran out of things to talk about with Adam about two hours ago.

 TR:  Let’s play fuck, marry, kill.  

 JR:  Okay.  But let’s text just us, okay?

 TR:  Smart.  Okay, you go first.  Celebrities, fuck, marry or kill.

 JR:  Any celebrities?  That’s kind of broad.

 TR:  Ok, celebrities named Chris.

 JR:  You’re really making me go first.

 TR:  You’re the one who said you were bored.  I could just throw all this crap into the sink and go to bed.  But I’ll go first if you want.

 JR:  Okay.  

 TR:  And obviously no getting mad, right?

 JR:  Obviously.

 TR:  Fuck Chris Hemsworth, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Pratt.

 JR:  That was fast.

 TR:  I may have thought about it before.  Now you go.

 JR:  Fuck Christina Aguilera, marry Chris Evans, kill Chris Noth.

 TR:  Very enlightened.

 JR:  Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

 TR:  Agreed.  Okay, next. Marvel characters.  

 JR:  That’s kind of an overlap, isn’t it?

 TR:  Only with a few of them.  We’ll say no repeats.  You go first this time.

 JR:  Fuck Wonder Woman, marry Black Widow, kill Loki.

 TR:  Sure you didn’t reverse Wonder Woman and Black Widow?

 JR:  Nah.  If I’m going to spend my life with somebody I want her to have some depth, you know?

 TR:  I’ll revisit that when I’m less drunk.  Okay, fuck T’Challa, marry Tony Stark, kill Fury.

 JR:  Fury?  He’s a good guy.

 TR:  I didn’t like the way he faked his death.

 JR:  You confuse me sometimes.

 TR:  I think that’s okay.  Any sign of the assistant chef?

 JR:  No.  And Adam seems entranced by some game on his phone.

 TR:  Animal crossing?

 JR:  I think it’s some kind of card game app.  Jerry mentioned it.

 TR:  Why play cards on an app instead of in person?

 JR:  Maybe because you’re stuck at work at one in the morning.

 TR:  Fair.

 JR:  Okay, let’s do another round.

 TR:  Fine.  Five-0. Present or former members.

 JR:  No way.

 TR:  Come on, you must have thought about it.  

 JR:  No getting mad?

 TR:  Obviously.  And we can’t say each other.

 JR:  Obviously.

 JR:  You go first.

 TR:  Fuck Steve, marry Danny, kill Catherine.

 JR:  Again, you do this really fast.

 TR:  These answers aren’t hard.

 JR:  Didn’t know you hated Catherine so much.

 TR:  She screwed over my imaginary fuck buddy and my imaginary husband, so, yeah.

 JR:  I feel like you know more about this situation than I do.

 TR:  As with all things.  Come on, your turn.

 JR:  This is hard.  And very unprofessional.

 TR:  You cannot leave me hanging.

 JR:  Fuck Quinn, marry Steve, kill Adam.

 TR:  He’s that boring?

 JR:  He’s that boring.

 TR:  You know Danny thinks I’m just like Steve.  In the good ways.

 JR:  I’m aware.

 TR:  You only said Quinn because you couldn’t think of any other women on Five-0, didn’t you?

 JR:  Ok fine.

 TR:  Be honest, who would you pick?  Really?

 JR:  There’s no way you’re getting me to put that in a text.

 TR:  It’s just us, come on.

 LG:  No it’s not.  

 TR:  Oh shit.

  July 22, 2020

 DW:  Ok, regarding last night’s text message fiasco, I’m incredibly disappointed and have no choice but to run this by HR.

 TR:  Wait, we have HR?

 DW:  No, actually.  But I talked about it with Steve and we laughed our asses off.  Try to rein in the sex talk just a bit, okay?  And maybe don’t mention actually killing people in our group text.

 JR:  Sorry, sir.

 TR:  Sorry, boss.

 DW:  And Junior’s right.  Everyone wants to marry Chris Evans.

[cutesuki-bakugouinactive]

Inbox open?!?! Woot woot! Thank you for doing these requests man. What about adult!Bakugo was hanging out with his friends like a little reunion. And when he takes a drink everyone sees that he has a ring. Everyone was like 'you know people are gonna assume you're married with a ring like that on his left hand' and he is like with a straight face 'I know' everyone starts to freak out and his wife picks him up after and was just bombarded with questions.

Hehehe, this made me giggle. 

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!!

Bakugou sunk down into the puffy armchair he was currently resting in, sighing internally at the bland monologue his high school classmates were spitting, energetically bantering on and on about ‘old times’. Tch, old times. Five years ago isn’t even a long time. Though, I guess everyone getting all set up in their own personal lives has made it seem like forever since we’ve talked. At the cackling sound of Ashido laughing at a joke, he nearly felt the urge to wince. I think I could have gone another five years. Fuck, they’re irritating. He tapped his finger against his glass, noting in the moment that it was starting to get quite low. The only reason he was truly able to tolerate the yelling and the excitement was because of the provided alcohol, otherwise he would have called his ride to come get him hours ago.

Why the fuck am I even here? No one has said a damn word to me outside of ‘hello’. I’m not surprised, though. They probably still think I’ll just snap at them. Which I would. Idiots.

Bakugou brought his cup to his lips, taking a good swig before standing to refill his drink at the alcohol station. Right as he stood, he heard Kaminari address him, though he didn’t bother turning around. “Geez, Bakugou, what are you an alcoholic now? That’s like your fourth drink!”

“If I’m going to be associating myself with you idiots, I have to dumb myself down a bit with alcohol first, Dunce Face.” Bakugou put some ice in his glass, amused by the sounds of ‘oooh’s that came from the others. Kaminari scoffed, obviously a bit drunk himself. “Don’t you think we’re old enough to not use stupid insults at each other? Come on, have a conversation with us!”

“Yeah, Kacchan,” Midoriya spoke, his voice somewhat tolerable in Bakugou’s buzzed state. “Why don’t you tell us about how you’ve already become one of the top heroes in the country? I mean, in only five years!” Bakugou scoffed, taking a swig from his drink as he returned back to his seat. “That’s because I’m not a loser.” He ignored the groans of annoyance and disappointment at his comment, sitting and returning the glare that Kaminari was giving him. “You are a loser, Bakugou. You can’t even talk to us without insults!” Bakugou brought his drink up, taking a swig before speaking. “Maybe I don’t want-”

“What’s that?”

Bakugou’s attention was pulled to Yaoyorozu, who was pointing and staring at his hand with intense curiosity. Noticing everyone’s eyes were on him, he turned his hand, gazing at the plain gold band on his left ring finger. “Eh? It’s a fucking ring, what does it look like?” Sero gave a wary laugh, reaching up to scratch his cheek. “Uuh, dude, wearing a ring like that… people are going to assume that, like…-”

“Like your married…?” Kaminari interrupted, finishing what was on everyone’s mind.

Although Bakugou could feel the heat building in his ears, his crimson glare darted around to everyone that was staring at him in bewilderment. “I know, that’s kind of the fucking point of it, isn’t it?”

The collective screams and yells of shock were loud enough to nearly make him feel like he was going to go flying, even squinting his eyes against the cacophony of noise that attacked him. He knew he had just made a huge mistake.

“What?! Bakugou, dude, there’s no way!”

“Who is it?! Is it someone we know?!”

“Is she hot?!”

“Do you work together?! Where is she from?!”

“WHEN?!”

Bakugou stood, setting off an explosion from his empty hand to break the noise. “SHUT UP! Fuck, you people are annoying!” He sat back down, chugging down the rest of his drink before setting the empty cup down on the small table beside the chair. Yanking his phone from his pocket, he grumbled in irritation as he found a picture of his wife, holding it up to show the group as they all gathered around him. Emotions ranged from awe, to envy, to excited glee and he took his phone back from them in embarrassment, feeling crowded and flustered. “Back up! For fucks sake, what’s the big deal?!”

Kaminari chuckled, wide sly grin on his face. “Dude, we didn’t think you were capable of real love.” Mineta nodded quite a few times. “That, and being married to such a hottie! She’s super fine, dude!” Bakugou found no flattery in their words, standing. “Shut up! I-” He stopped, his phone buzzing in his hand. Looking at it, he saw that it was his wife calling and he quickly answered, walking away from the group. “Hey, babe.” He found he instantly regretted letting that habit slip, wincing at the girls squealing from whatever they must have found to be adorable.

“Hey Katsuki, I’m outside. Just wanted to let you know, you said be here at eleven.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’ll be out in a second.”

“Hey, Bakugou’s wife, come inside!!” Kaminari called from behind, unable to resist picking on his friend further.

“Huh? What was that?”

Bakugou walked further away from the group, glaring at the snickering Kaminari over his shoulder. “Nothing, they’re just being dickheads.”

“They invited me inside? I’d love to come meet them, Katsuki! You’ve told me so much about them… in a negative way. I’d like to come see for myself.”

“But- I-, wait, no, you can’t come inside, they’re all drunk and stupid-”

“That’s okay, so are you! I can hear it in your voice. I’m coming in!”

Before he could retaliate, the phone hung up and he clenched it tightly in his hand, turning his glare back to the group, who were all still looking at him expectantly. “If you fuckers say ANYTHING about me in school, I will blow you straight into hell. You hear me?!”

“Tell her about how you threw a baby fit for weeks because you didn’t win the sports festival first year like you wanted, got it!”

“No!!”

[beaubcxton]

“You’re so brew-tiful, Snow.”

For @recgulus on her birthday. I love you & I hope you enjoy this 5.8kish mess. What is canon, right? Also, I made Simon say Crowley because I really like the word even if it doesnt have any context here. This is rushed but like, enjoy.

It happens on a Monday. Of course, it does Nothing good ever happened on a Monday.  Simon should have known to keep his head low on a day like this. Children sobbing was the welcome tune that announced the beginning of a new day, fingers stumbled on the steering wheel; a sign that the night before might have been exhilarating but now was just, tiring. Mondays were like the thorns in a bed of roses.

Back in the day when his dad was still decent, his father warned him to take care of himself. ‘Nothing like a Monday, mate. Can’t smoke or drink, can ya?’ And Simon had smiled toothily at his father, shrugging off the advice like it was dust that had found its way onto his coat.

He really really shouldn’t have done that.

Reason 1: His mom died two years ago in June on a Monday.

Reason 2: Agatha broke up with him last week. Surprise, surprise! It was on a Monday!

Reason 3: He just spilled hot coffee on the fittest guy in the world on a fucking Monday aka today.

---

“Simon!!”

Feet wheeling automatically at the familiar voice, I extend my arms right in time for Penelope Bunce to fling herself against my chest. Her giggles send a row of vibrations in me that shudder each bone. I-weirdly- find myself inhaling her hair as if to assure myself she’s there. (She smells of watermelon and ink. Typical of her to do something study related even on vacation ) I shift uncomfortably in the hug, her phone digging in my arm.

Pen is my best friend. Been since we were tiny tots. She'd been gone for nearly a month. Being the only person who included me in social ongoings also known as parties where you could get wasted, Penny was the Jake to my Boyle. When conversations had the opportunity to become awkward and stifling, Pen was pretty cool to divert my attention. We'd video called at least five times a week this month.

She pulls back, grins still wide on both of our faces and surveys her surroundings.

It’s earlier than I would like it to be; it’s just barely afternoon and I’ve been awake since dawn. It’s a tiny cafe, huddled alone with its vivid hues of orange and brown amongst the grey concrete building. Good for business. Unlike the outdoors, the interior of the cafe’s temperature induced warmth and placidity. I usually notice several kids hunched and pored over their studying material. Textbooks that hid their anxious face from view are stacked on the tables, their coffees long since drained but I rarely pay attention to it, opting for my ‘want a free refill, mate?’ chime. Employed at the beginning of fall, I was given only a few days to suit the shop with the atmosphere outside. Pumpkins decorate the cashier desk and they’ve been carved to look like famous people. My favorite one is the one that looks like Miley Cyrus. Strings of lights, the ones you get in IKEA fall from the ceiling casting a mellow glow in the gloominess of the upcoming winter.

“I can’t believe you work here now.” She huffs, still having a staring competition with one of the pumpkins. Taylor Swift must have won because my best friend snaps her gaze towards me as if waiting for an explanation. I know where she's going with this and I have no intention whatsoever to get into it. It'll just end with her storming out or worse so I just hum in agreement or whatever she expects from me.

Surprisingly between tucks of hair and another staring completion with Shawn Mendes, she tells me, “It’ll be good for you. I hope, at least. You’ve been a mopey mess since Agatha, now don’t give me that look Si. You know it’s true. I told you not to get involved with her but-“

I will my jaw and heart to loosen. “Missed you Pen.”

Her teasing and motherly grin could light the whole shop up. “Micah and I missed you too.”

My smile wavers. Right. Her boyfriend in America. Really decent bloke, always up for the occasional drag though he’s a right wanker when he’s reading a book. We get along swimmingly. And it's not like I like like Penny but whenever she talks about Micah, it reminds me of my recent break up with Agatha. Someone who I thought I'd spend my life with. For fuck's sake, we're twenty-three. I'd be Pinocchio if I told you that I didn't go ring shopping.

“Simon?” I run a hand through my hair and grimace when it comes out sticky. I haven't talked about Agatha since she broke up with me.

“I’m alright,” I say and conclude the statement by sending her a shaky smile. Penny looks wary but doesn’t do something weird like putting her hand on my shoulder or lending me a hug. I’m grateful for it but also resentful.

The door tinkles and-

“Simon Snow?”

My first thought is ‘Fuck me.’ My second is ‘I’m going to act like a dunce. Crowley, this boy knows my name.’ And my third is nothing.

I go blank. Nada and nil, both poetic wonders dance from my tongue. Penny pinches my arm. I can see her smirking and hiding a giggle but I don’t reproach her for it. Not when Adonis is standing right in front of me, his muscular form a barrier against the cool wind he’s brought with the open door. With slanted eyebrows and thin lips, he looks like someone you’d see in portraits at castles, despite the smirk on his face.

“Simon Snow?” He calls out again and I watch mesmerized as his mouth opens and pronounces my name. I flush. It’s probably in my best intentions if I don’t drool over a customer and with hardly any cool, I raise my arm up like a moron and squeak out a “Here?” like we’re kids and back to roll call.

Super Fit bloke- as I recently decided to call him in my head- shifts his searching glance and focuses on me and I almost reel back in surprise. He’s wearing a hat that shadows his features but even blind, I’d recognize him anywhere. His eyes are grey and unlike anything that I’ve seen. It’s like a storm in there and I’m captivated by observing them. It’s so different watching them up close, up person in daylight than stalking his Instagram profiles at 2am.  And his hair is carefully messed up in an extravagant manner, dark and shiny locks peeking out lazily.

I'm speechless. This is the best day of my life.

“Bastillon Pitch?”

My mouth blurts the words out but I suspect even if I had time, I’d say those same words. That same name. Do you know who is standing in my-not mine but you get the point- coffee shop right now? Award winning and three-time Oscar nominee, Bastillon Pitch. He has nine million and seven thousand followers on Instagram (not that I would know) and he’s been called to Ellen which he’s refused, by the way. For all my understanding (and obsessive knowledge) about  him, I could never understand why he would do that. I mean, who refuses Ellen? That’s like refusing chocolate. Only a few months older than me, he’s the youngest actor to star in so many bloody iconic movies.

The man grimaces and looks around to see if anyone’s heard my exclamation but that would be ridiculous because the only people in the room are him, Pen, me and two ladies with floral blouses and wrinkled fingers. The latter are deep in conversation and are stealing glances at us occasionally to check whether we’re eavesdropping. They’re loud so that’s taken care of. In the seventeen minutes that they’ve been there, I’ve learned that they are lesbians whose gay son eloped with a girl. I'd like to say that's the strangest thing I've heard but it doesn't even rank top ten in today's conversations.

“I go by Baz and shut up, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Rathe dumb, aren’t you? You’re the barista here?” His voice is smooth and dark like wine drunk on a summer night. The tone, however, implies he thinks I’m incompetent. It’s like he’s trying to convey, ‘You? You’re the barista here? Seriously?’ I feel like I’ve been slapped. Hurt and embarrassment course through me simultaneously.

It’s not every day that one gets to meet their fucking celebrity crush but well (I like boys too, you see) I imagine I’m handling it rather well, never mind that my face is probably beet red and I’m this close to stammering. Don’t give me that look. ‘Baz’ Pitch is literally an icon. He’s acted in several movies and he’s so good at it that I get goosebumps watching him. And Crowley, I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t the fittest person I’d seen in my life. 10/10 ass and a perfect asshole. I don’t think I can handle his fucking beautiful lilt this early in the morning what with Agatha presence still ghosting my mind. Bastillon Pitch or not.

“Yes.” I bite. “Why?”

“Just expected a bit more, I suppose. Most baristas have a uniform” He breaks off suddenly and stretches hard like, his shirt literally goes up and I have a view of strained muscles. Crowley. I’m staring at it so hard I’m not aware he’s speaking till he coughs. Shit. I want to wipe that smirk off.

“You seem like the type of guy to like Brooklyn Nine-Nine but you don’t even wear a uniform so I can’t consider you a true fan. Seriously Snow, who wears that to work?” His mouth is opening and closing but all I hear from him is the sign ‘I’m a prick.’

“Sorry, we can’t look like posh assholes all the time.”

He rolls his eyes again at my attempted jab. “You-“

“You  know,-“ I interrupt loudly, “-I wonder if you keep rolling your eyes because you’re trying to find a brain back there.”

The asshole grins and I’m disarmed by the beauty of it for a moment. His teeth do not contrast well with his tanned appearance. They look almost yellow in the dim light of the coffee shop but they’re sharp. I oddly wonder if he’s played a vampire. But then I know he’s not. I’ve watched all of his movies. Twice. Okay, thrice.  (And maybe a few more times after that)

“Touche” As he walks towards me, I can swallow my disgust. He’s so damned tall. Seriously what was the point of these people with their ridiculous heights of six foot when I, a mere mortal was just five foot one? (I never said I wasn't dramatic.)  “I didn’t expect it from you. Soft, aren’t you Snow?”

Pen, the traitor is nicely backing away.

“Soft?” I splutter manically even though I know being soft is wonderful but Bastillion Pitch cannot know in any universe that Simon Snow is soft. It would not bode well on his impression of me.

He grins wolfishly. “Shame.”

Shame? Shame? What does that even mean?

His sudden bark of laughter shakes the bloody walls. “Flustered, mate?”

​Oh. Oh. Pen has long since retreated, thankfully because I wouldn’t feel like quitting if she was here. It’s just like the universe to make the (EX) love of my life an arse who has no consideration for my feelings. I admonish myself for sounding like a sap.

“I only get flustered in front of cute. Hot, hot people.”

Predator smirk combined with no reply sets me on edge. “What do you want?”

“Good grades but I already have them. Do you, Snow?”

I try not to let the bitterness seep into my tone. Of course, acting isn’t enough for the Great Bastillon Pitch. He’d have to study and rank too, possibly. I couldn’t understand why he’d need to work with all that money.

“Stop calling me that.”

Damn, how does he raise just one eyebrow?

“It’s a name, Snow. Surely, even you know what their purpose it?”

What? I’m so confused right now. I rack my brains and ask myself if I’ve done anything to warrant such behavior but I come out short. Did I bump into him on the street and not apologize? Kick his dog? No to both because I’d remember being a shithead. I don’t want to be on bad blood with Bastillon Pitch, however, so I try to rein my irritation in. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot.

“What are you majoring in?”

He stares at me. Blinks. Stares. “I want to become a lawyer.” He draws out the words like he thinks I’m a moron.

Who knew it’d be hard to have a conversation with Bastillon Pitch? Not me.

“I think you playing a vile asshole has rubbed on your in real life personality.” This time, I’m teasing.

His laughter is a sound I’ve not heard before. It’s warm and cold, both at once like he’s rarely had the opportunity to full on laugh, uncontrolled and unpracticed and he’s not sure how to excel in the skill. I think that irks him, not being able to control it because he stops quickly though I won't forget how, for a moment, his eyes crinkled shut and how his fingers curled in. I shiver.

It’s like someone has clicked a button on his personality. His face becomes a mask of nonchalance. “Coffee.” He orders. “Tall and with milk.”

Disappointment finds its way to me. Despite the ongoing insults, it was exciting to spar with someone. I’m just usually bored here. I grind the dusty little machine on (it’s certainly not Starbucks material) and waits for the hum that it’s working before I assemble the milk and sugar, distinctly aware that eyes are trailing me.

“You’d be a good lawyer,” I say suddenly as I pour a teaspoon of milk in, anxious to continue the conversation. His eyes widen. “Make people all mad and that. That be two pounds.”

His lips twitch as he silently hands over the money. I draw up the bill and as I’m handing over the coffee, full to the brim in a paper cup. His nails brush the desk as he leans forward, breath warm against my cheek as he murmurs, “You’ve got a nice arse, Snow.”

And because, I’m Simon Snow, because I’m a walking disaster, because Bastillon Pitch is an asshole who deserves it, I splutter and my hands shake for one infinite second before the cup goes down, falling and the piping beverages jumps onto Baz’s leather clothes.

Times stops in that standstill of a second. Nothing moves. In that second, I’m not an idiot but the spell is broken and I realize what an A class clown I am.

“You’ve got a little coffee there.” I murmur, mortified as Bastillon Bloody Pitch stares at himself for several seconds before his charged animal eyes hook me in place.

“What the fuck, Snow?”

I splutter maniacally, flinging drool here and there. Sending a plea to the ground to swallow me up, I stumble in my haste to get some towels. I start to dab one on his chest and flush when I realize I’m essentially touching his breasts. I am touching Bastillon Pitch, Oh my Gosh.

Do not think about that, Simon Snow. Do not think about that.

Baz pushes me off and tugs the towel and wipes himself. He’s snarling and his eyes have darkened but I (shockingly) notice pink coloring his cheeks.

“Rubbing it won’t help, Bastillon. You’re supposed to dab-”

“I reckon you’d know a lot about this. This your ninth time dropping coffee on a customer? And I go by Baz, how many fucking times-”

I raise my hands and back away. He seems almost embarrassed but I do not want to be in the way of an angry ‘Baz’  Penny, please be there. “I’m sorry. Coffee’s on the house.”

“THERE IS NO COFFEE, TO BEGIN WITH!”

Well, he has a point there. I concede defeat and murmur apologies. Baz drops the towel on the floor like a wanker and storms out, the door slamming shut behind him and the texture of frost whipping across my face for a millisecond as I process the previous events.

The old ladies are looking at me and grinning. I bury my hands in my face and groan.

I could not catch a break.

---

“Snow!”

Fuck. What is he doing here? I shut my eyes for a second, try to collect any calm in this universe and curse softly.

“SNOW!”

I move out from the kitchen and press my apron, hastily. The warm aroma of coffee ground hits me as I step out the door and face to Bastillon.

“Hey.”

He sneers. “Where's the apron?”

My eyebrows pinch together and I look down at myself, just to double check. I had worn it.

“What are you on about, mate? It's right here.” I say and gesture to my clothes.

Surprisingly, Baz flushes and growls out, “Where's my apron, you moron?”

I know he's trying to be a really tough boy and crap but whenever he growls, it sounds really cute, almost like he's imitating a baby bear. I have the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks and coo over him.

“Snow!”

He even has the personality of a bear.

“Sorry. Lost in thought. What did you say?”

Baz shutting his eyes will forever be one of the most dramatic and exaggerated actions  in the world. It's like one of those slow things. First, he twists his fingers and they curl around the table. Then, his lips purse. All the while his eyes are slowly shutting. Maybe, he took classes for that.

“I said,” He manages to say. “Where the fuck is my apron?”

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. “Look mate, I can make you a cup of perfectly fine coffee, provided you don't startle me like-”

“Urgh!” Baz implores to some deity. “I’m working here, you dumbass.”

I freeze.

There is no way I heard correctly.

“What?”

“Fucking Crowley.” He murmurs, throwing his look downwards.

Just when you think life’s picking up, when you finally move on from the incidents of yesterday and go a few hours without this complete and utter arse, Bastillon Pitch drops in and says, “Hey! I‘m going to work with you. ”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Crowley, I'm going to need to tell my aunt about you.”

Somewhere inside me, my heart stumbles. “What?”

“My aunt?” Baz smirks. “The owner?”

Are you serious? Someone up there had it out for me. Embarrassment rings through me.

Pinching my lip, I have a revelation about what I must do. Alrighty then. I give him my apron and resign. Guns and Roses blare in the background as I do this mighty and heroic deed. I leap off the platform, pluck my sunglasses off and kiss the mole on Bastillon face because no matter how much of an asshole he is, I will forever be attracted to him before I pull away and slam the door on my way out.

Well, I imagine all of this. Could you tell? I really cannot believe my luck. Now, his aunt who I assumed was a perfectly good woman is going to fire me and I’ll live on the streets for all eternity. Staring at how happy Bastillon looks with the bombshell he's just dropped doesn't help me in the slightest. Moving to get him an apron, I throw it towards him and cross my arms as a thought strikes me.

“When did you start?”

Chuckling low and warm, Baz pulls the apron on top of himself and smiles. “And here I thought you were dull.  Yesterday.”

Xxxxxxxxx                                         

We’ve settled into a routine. Baz and I. It’s really just one rule though we’ve found it hard to obey. Do not interfere with the other.

Sometimes, I’m making coffee when Baz leg brushes against mine and while both of us turn pink, I choose not to say anything while he goes into a rage about how I’m an imbecile who hogs all the space and how ‘you hog all the space with your fucking stupidity, Snow!’

So I’d retaliate. The other day, for example, he’d asked me for a cuppa. He was on break and by obligation, I had to make him one so I set out to make a cup of tea when this brilliant idea struck me. I boiled the gatorade up and put it in a cup with sugar on its side. Waiting patiently as he raised his eyebrows, sipped the tea and then, spat it out, I couldn’t help but feel vicious satisfaction.

We play a bunch of games too. Not the friendly ones that children in playgrounds do but the ones that people with no lives and who thrive on annoying their rival do.

One of them is the growling game; every time, we roast each other and someone doesn’t retort but growls, loses. The other is The Quick Game; we have a tally on who serves the most customers. So far, Baz is winning by a marginal. (a lot) My favorite is the Embarrassment Game; when we’re talking to customers, we tell them ridiculous things about the other. Baz, of course, started it first. He had told one of my favorite customers that I’m a rather dull kid and his aunt had hired me in pity. I had told the next customer he was gay. He, surprisingly, didn’t have anything to say to that and we haven’t played the game since.

---

“You’d think that a barista would know how to make a cup of coffee.” Baz is saying to his aunt, Fiona who is coincidentally my boss. Did I mention that before? We’re at her office, not because she’s called me though that was what I was led to believe, cue angry glare at the boy on my left. “But Snow dropped the whole fucking mug, sorry, freaking mug on me on my first day and I had to go home.” Baz added, opting for a pout.

Crowley, he looks brilliant. Bugger. We’re playing the Embarrassment Game again and I am not ready, for once.

I try to display some professional mannerism. Might as well look good before I was fired. Still, I feel melancholic as I rack my brains about my future prospects. What would I work as now? Who’d want to hire me? The guy who can’t hold a cup of coffee? I wouldn’t hire me. I can’t help but feel resentment towards Baz.

“Simon.” Fiona reproaches, leaning forward, hands crinkling some papers as she does so. I liked Ms. Pitch. Despite her hubris and ridiculous attire; fluffy clothes that suited a ball venue and not a coffee shop, she was sweet when you (really) got to know her. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine her to be connected to Baz Pitch. It was typical of my luck for my rival’s aunt to be my boss. “I am very disappointed in you.”

My eyes shut, ashamed. You’d think I’d be used to it, right? The shouts that I’m not good enough but-

“You should have poured the whole bloody machine on his head. He certainly deserves it!”

Baz’s eyes widen proportionally while my mouth drops open.

“What?” We both articulate.

Ms. Pitch goes on as if she hasn’t heard out exclamations. “I thought I couldn’t love you anymore. I was wrong.” Her eyes fixate on me and I stare back, stupefied.

“Go on, then! You have a coffee shop to run.”

As I’m leaving, she says, “And Simon? Expect a raise soon.”

The door slams shut before I can express my stupefied gratitude. I think of going in, again but then I hear Baz’s groans and protests and my feet express a desire to get away, as quickly as possible.

Xxxxx

“Hey, Baz?” I begin, crumpling the cupcake wrapper in a ball and stuff the cake in my mouth. We’re on lunch break now. Sitting right in front of me is Baz though his focus is on his phone and not me. It’s a real pity. Is my sarcasm obvious? I wonder if he’s hungry. Looks like he’s starving. That would explain his pallid color. I know he’d prefer sitting away from me but it’s either here, in the kitchen or outside and attending to people. Every introvert’s worst nightmare. “Baz?”

He rolls his eyes at his phone and cranes his neck upwards. “What, Snow?”

I tsk. He’s like a fucking crab, always ready to bite my head off even though I’m perfectly pleasant. I suspect that even if the Queen of England were to knock, he’d slam the door in her face, grumbling about something.

“Do you ever eat?”

Surprise flashes in his eyes before he scoffs. “No, Snow. I don’t. I’m a vampire and I drink blood.”

I grin toothily at him. They’re probably yellow and red, resultants of the red velvet cupcake and gummy bears I had for lunch.

“Always knew you were a soul-sucking monster.”

Baz turns back to his phone though I can see a hint of a smile at his lips.

---

The other day, word got out that the Bastillon Pitch works at a humble cafe so we’ve been swarmed by teenage girls. Baz, true to his credit, threw them a stellar personality before he said rather dismissively, “We’re closing early! Technical issues.”

I had thrown him a look. “Baz. We worked at a cafe.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

I rolled my eyes and sent his fans a smile but they ignored me. “Can you sign this, Baz?” “Baz! Will you marry me?”

The requests were strange but Bas took them in stride. Soon, we had most of them out but camera lights still flashed in out direction. When we decided to close for the day, Baz and I lazed about in the room. Him working on study material and I worked on getting my Tumblr theme.

“I don't understand what those girls see in you.”

Baz barely spares me a glance as his fingers click the keyboard.

“I’m an actor, Snow.”

“And a real-life vampire.”

Baz grins. Hides it. “What are you studying?”

“I don't go to college anymore.”

“Oh?” Baz seems surprised. “If you wanted money, you could ask-”

I don't know if he's jesting or being genuinely kind but it stings me, regardless. “I don't want to go.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

---

“Sorry! I’m latte!” The pun comes naturally as I burst in the coffee shop, almost an hour late. The bell tinkles as I run towards the cashier.

Baz is leaning against the counter, no customers in sight. It’s a slow day. But apparently, I’ve made a horrendous mistake as Baz folds his arms over his chest and stares me down, the textbook picture of condescension.

“Thank Crowley” I breathe as I pull over my apron. Normally, I’m not late. I’m really not but today, right as I was about to leave the flat, Agatha comes barging in, tears cascading down her pretty face. Her mascara was smudged so I’d known she had been crying for hours.

“What’s wrong?” I had set her down on the sofa and went off to make some tea. That’s all I’ve been doing lately. Agatha started going on about how she missed me and agreed that maybe, we should have given us another shot.

“Let’s get back together, Si, alright?” Agatha had said, staring at me with those bluebell eyes I had grown so accustomed and fond of seeing.

And then, I had a revelation. I did not want us anymore. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of being hurt again but something else. I had moved on. It felt weird because I was so used to being in love with her, I forgot the feeling of not loving her. And, this feeling was so great I wanted to giggle but I couldn’t do that, not with Agatha flooding my apartment with her tears so I had steered her out and said very softly, mind you that ‘No, I’m sorry, Aggy but no.”

Now, here I was, still panting and victim to ‘Bastillon Pitch Full On Glare’, something I did not want to ever see. He’d looks like he’s swallowed dung. So fucking angry.

“I met up with Agatha.” I say, shortly. That does not dissuade him in the slightest. If I had to say, he looked even angrier. I had rambled about my ex to him in the past weeks. I wish I hadn’t.

“Oh,” He says cooly. “And, I suppose the lovely pair has gotten together again?”

“I didn’t want to.” I pacify him and he cools down, slightly.

“Oh.” He sounds like Christmas has come early. Wanker.

“I can’t expresso your attitude-”

Baz groans. “Stop with the fucking puns, Snow. You’ve been on them since yesterday.”

“And you’re still not used to it? Oh, bugger.” I mock a sympathetic sigh.

And then out of the blue, he says something that sends my heart which is already pounding a million miles per hour, race again because he’s looking at me like that and the twat leaves the room after he says it, like he knows I can’t chase him after the bombshell he’s just dropped.

He stares me right in the eye and says, disinterestedly, “I’m gay.”

Xxx

Ever since he’s told me he’s gay, I feel like something’s changed between us. Do I tell him I’m gay or bisexual too? It’s gotten awkward. I tried to talk to him and transfer the message that I’m not homophobic to him but he gets all clammy if I’ve walked two steps up to him and begin with ‘Baz?’

Normally, I don’t let this bother me. We get on each other’s nerves. Totally normal if I kept persisting. But he looks genuinely uncomfortable and he probably regrets telling me even though I don’t know why he’s told me in the first place, to begin with. I steer out of his way the rest of the day.

As the day progresses, he gets even more on edge, nearly snapping at an old lady who couldn’t see the menu. I try to manage the orders and let him work near the machines. But after, he kicks the machine that we all know doesn’t work, I give up trying to soothe him.

When two people have filed a complaint, I almost facepalm. My killer headache helps in making my day worse. With that and Baz’s mood swings, there’s nothing more I want but to go back home. But of course, that’s when the day gets worse.

It’s nearly night when Fiona rings us up. She rarely comes to the shop but does her paperwork at home. Efficient and tactical.

Baz picks up the phone and I can hear Fiona’s distant chattering but I focus more on Baz’s darkening face. Suddenly, he slams the phone down and tells me, “Close down.”

“It’s not 8pm, yet,” I state, dumbly.

“Fast, you imbecile.”

“But-”

That is, of course, when the lights flicker off and we’re buried in darkness. Baz’s shadow stands out prominently, in front of me and his groan followed by a curse, splits the air.

“Blackout.” Baz explains when I continue staring as he drops on the ground. I rub my eyes and lean against the counter. This was perfect. Fiona had installed those automatic doors today in the afternoon, the ones that functioned on electricity so we were locked in. Two rivals trapped in a room together. Maybe, once I went insane, psychologists could study me and they’d be shocked with the observations.

And maybe, they'd be surprised at how much I still like Bastillon Pitch.

---

Charcoal darkness has winnowed in and coated us with anxiety and tension. There were no curtains so we’d stumbled behind the counter, afraid and weary.

“Sleep in the kitchen?” I say as we’re munching leftovers.

“You can take the kitchen.” He's talking to me. “I’ll sleep here.”

Scoffing, I nudge him with my foot which apparently sets him off. “Don't be ridiculous, Baz. We’re thin enough to fit in the kitchen.”

It'll be cramped and we’ll be arm to arm but I wager we’ll manage.

Baz tears through the bread with his teeth. “Fine.” He bites off.

My foot starts to sleep so I shake it.

“Would you stop doing that?” Baz murmurs after a few minutes. He sounds agitated as he rubs his head. We’re just sitting in darkness now, doing nothing but analyze each other.

“What?”

“Shaking your fucking foot, Snow. I'm trying to sleep.”

My jaw clenched. He was so infuriating sometimes. “You are not sleeping here.”

“Oh?” Baz scoffs, curling into the wall. “Since when do you care? You’re always running after-”

I let out an angry cry. And I don't think, I do. I want him to shut up. Surging forward, I notice how Baz’s monologue starts to delve. He has his eyes shut, I faintly register before I tilt my head and kiss him.

Bas stills and sags beneath my palms like I’m draining all of the oxygen in him. And Crowley, he’s so warm. I care, I try to tell him. You're the sun and I'm crashing into you. You mean so much to me.

I'm leaning over and when he doesn't respond, I pull away, disappointed and embarrassed. He's breathing heavily and I can see his grey beautiful eyes stare at me, wide with shock. I'm stumbling to get away when I fall into his lap. Pushing away, I’m horrified and about to fucking shoot myself.

All I can think about is how the door is locked and I'm trapped with a guy who's probably going to sue me because I assaulted him and oh my god, what am I-

“Snow.” Baz murmurs.

“Here,” I repeat like so long ago.

“Snow, what the fuck?” Baz is already departing his wall. At least, he’s engaged in being frustrated.

“Look, just don't tell the table-”

Baz tsks. “You’re such a moron, Snow.”

I splutter but then he kisses me.

And my mind goes blissfully blank.

---

We sleep in the kitchen that night, my arm draped across his body and his fingers twitching for me.

There’ll be time to talk about what I am, what we are later. How it’ll affect the press and other matters.

For now, it doesn't matter. We don't care. It's just us, two boys who’ve found solace and whose heart aches for the other, suspended in the dark, in time.

It's Baz and me.

[sincerely-us-imagines]

Gather ‘round children, and let me tell you a tale that exposes my true idiotic nature.

So, as some of you may know, I spent all of last week with my brother (or rather, at my brother’s apartment). We were supposed to hang out and go to a concert together but he kind of blew me off and acted like i didn’t exist, and ended up making an excuse to not have to go to the concert with me (and didn’t apologize or offer to pay me back for his ticket, but that’s not what this is about).

Here’s a little backstory:

So, I had been posting on snapchat with the location filters, and i get a message from a friend i haven’t seen (or really talked to) since graduation, 2.5 years ago. Turns out she actually lived there (it’s a popular college town), and was going to the concert too and asked if i wanted to pregame (read as: get stoned, eat mexican food, and listen to tmg) and ofc i accepted. It had been a while since we’d hung out, and even in high school we weren’t that close, so it was a little awkward at first, but we both loosened up and ended up having a great time! She was bringing another friend with her and he was super sweet and very nice to me and didn’t mind me tagging along at all! We went to the concert and had an amazing time, sang as loud as we could along with the rest of the crowd, cried, and got cheap, greasy, delicious pizza afterwards. She had class and work in the morning, so the night got cut kinda short-ish. She drops me off at my brother’s apartment at around 1 a.m. and right before i get out, she mentions she’s going to a party the next night and would love if i came with her. So of course, wanting to spend more time with my friend AND go to my first real party, i agreed.

Her friend drives, and they pick me up at ~10, and i’m already a little uh,,, baked,, but only enough to be excited for the night and not panicking bc social anxiety. So we get to her friend’s (definitely haunted) house and go in. there’s probably 20-ish people there. I’m a little uncomfortable, but not anxious. I follow her around for a little while, standing in the kitchen and listening to everyone talk. It is at this point that i realize that every single person there is a political science major. And working on a campaign for a local politician. And using a lot of terms that i don’t know and talking about people i’ve never met. My friend noticed i was kind of uncomfortable and offered me a drink, which i gladly accept.

I’m halfway through my first vodka + grapefruit juice when everyone (literally every person at the party + the host’s 2 roommates, who had been in their rooms up until this point) gather on the front porch to smoke. So i’m like “hell yeah free weed”. Until they pull out a bong. It comes to me and i have to tell my friend i don’t know how to use a bong. She shows me and I? Kind of? Figure it out? A little?? I laugh and make a comment on how i’ve never used one because if i can’t hide it from my mom, i can’t have it. One roommate (who i believe was named mitch?? So we’ll just call him that) says “oh, hang on” and goes inside, returning moments later with a pipe and a dime bag, and comes to stand beside me. He smiles and whispers that he’s got better stuff than what everyone else is smoking. We pass the pipe back and forth, just the two of us, and someone brings the vodka out and i top off my drink.

So at this point i am loud, not thinking at all about what i’m saying, and pretty out of it. Everyone but me and mitch are talking about politics. Someone says something funny about local government being stupid. And i don’t know much about local government, but even i knew that the policy they were referring to was ridiculous. I *started to vocalize this, but lost my train of thought halfway through my sentence, so this is what came out of my mouth (imagine this is a little louder than someone should be talking, slightly slurred, and giggly):

“I will be the first to admit that i am a fucking idiot. An absolute dunce. Dumb bitch hours are 24/7, 365 baby!”

and then stopped, because i couldn’t remember what i was meaning to say. So really, i just announced to approximately 20 strangers that i’m fucking stupid. Which i’m pretty sure they already knew anyway. Everyone was quiet. All of these drunk and stoned college kids were completely silent, just staring at me. And i said nothing else. Eventually everyone goes back inside.

There was one guy who i was kind of?? Shamelessly flirting with the entire time? And i’m fairly sure he was flirting back but i suck at recognizing that so i’m really not sure lmao. But anyway, there’s 2 sofas, a loveseat, a big chair, and a papasan chair. Me and the guy i’m flirting with were the last ones inside so we were stuck sitting on the floor together. Someone goes to the bathroom, so he takes the opportunity to steal their seat, leaving me alone in the floor. Then mitch, who was sitting with 3 people in a 2 person seat, asked if i wanted to sit with him instead of on the ground by myself. So i squeeze between him and another guy who i didnt know, and ended up with one of my legs halfway in his lap due to the seating arrangement.

This is where i started being a real dumbass.

He was talking to me, asking questions, whatever, when his dog (who i had already met) comes into the room. We both start reaching towards him and calling him, and he ends up coming to me. I laugh and kind of gloat, leaning down and talking to the dog but looking at him and said “what a sweet baby! You like me more, don’t you? Daddy doesn’t treat you right, huh? Daddy doesn’t know how to treat this baby!” and i’m completely kidding, not really realizing that i looked this guy in the eye and referred to him as “daddy” while leaning over his lap. So there’s my first mistake with this guy.

Second mistake (which was potentially very dangerous. I seriously could’ve gotten hurt and you guys need to NOT be like me) was when i finished my drink and was playing with my empty cup. He offers to get me a refill and i agree. He asks me what i want and i say “anything but beer. That shit is nasty.” and I let this guy who i had just met that night leave the room with my cup and fill it up with whatever. After i got home and sobered up i realized how badly the night could’ve gone because i was too inebriated to think of what could happen, which was really scary.

Luckily, though, mitch wasn’t a shitty person, and comes back with a screwdriver. He sits back down and hands me the cup. I’m not coordinated at all, so i grab the cup with both hands, and overlap my hands with his. I notice that he’s got, like, piano player fingers. So i position myself back how i was (kind of almost sort of in his lap), take my drink, and grab his hand and say, while giggling, “wow, your fingers are sooo long! oh my god!” and marveling over them (mistake #3). I did NOT realize at the time how this sounded at the time and i literally cringe thinking back on it. He kind of smiled at me and said “yeah, i’ve gotten that before. I’m pretty good with them, too.” I didn’t understand what he meant so i just laughed and took a big gulp from my drink, which was a LOT stronger than it was the first time. Like, legit probably half and half. But i swallow it without even really making a face because: a) i’m too blitzed to care and b) i’m not a pussy anyway lmao

And he looks legitimately impressed and says “wow, you swallowed that without even gagging” and i’m!!! Fucking stupid!!! And thought he was literally just talking about liquor!! So i say “yeah i’m pretty good at that” in a very smug manner bc!! like i’m kind of a lightweight (mostly bc i don’t eat that much so i usually drink on an empty or almost empty stomach) but i have never thrown up from drinking and i can down it with a mostly straight face. I know now that my attitude, the way i’m sitting, and p much everything i’ve said to him so far sounds really suggestive. So that’s the fourth mistake.

We sit there a little while longer and i finish my drink and have half of another and talk about all kinds of things. He asks what i’m interested in and i say mostly broadway musicals and video games, but a few other things too. He nods along while i talk and i say-- with literally NO other implications other than what i actually said- “I bet you’re really good at video games. You know, because of your fingers. Like, you can probably hit all the right buttons without even having to think twice about it.” which, totally sober, i realize doesn’t actually make any sense, and sounded like a really nerdy euphemism, but it made sense in the moment.

So he says “yeah, i like to think i am. I’ve got a console in my bedroom if you wanna play with me?” and he’s kind of leaned in mumbling this in my ear and that makes perfect sense to me because it’s loud and of course it would make it easier for me to hear!!! now, I am well aware that i am fucked up and poorly coordinated and i know that i wouldn’t be able to play video games very well and i’d end up making an ass out of myself and possibly falling asleep in his bed and i didn’t really want to do either of those things. So i tell him that i’m too drunk for that and probably wouldn’t be very good at the moment.

He told me he understood and that it wasn’t a problem and he’s fine just hanging out with me out here. And drunk me was like wow!! That is so nice!! This guy is now my best friend!! So i lean over on his shoulder and just talk the rest of the night.

At like 2 am he tells me he has to be at work in the morning and that he should go to bed, but that the next time i’m in town i should hit him up and we could hang out and play video games. So i give him a HUGE hug bc drunk me is v affectionate and thanked him for hanging out with me and that i would love to see him again

I literally didn’t realize how ANY of this sounded until i got home at like 3:30 and called my boyfriend to tell him everything lmao

[investigatingregionalscenes]

story about music #8

Winter-Spring, 2013: In order to graduate, I needed a capstone. I chose to do deep reporting project I’d been threatening to do since 2009, and looked into the noise and experimental scene of New England. I recorded seven interview with experimental artists about their lives and work. These are five of them. They were taken in a variety of locales in the Boston area: Cambridge, Somerville, Lowell, and Salem.

In the last year, I’ve been thinking a lot about this period and these conversations as I ask myself, why keep doing this?

above: Ron Lessard, as Emil Beaulieau, performs in someone’s basement in Worcester, Massachusetts.

Music

Music for this episode was created using the following household objects: a desk lamp, a can of beer, a record player, a radiator, and a vacuum cleaner.

With the exceptions of “Fog in the Ravine” by Lejsovka and Freund as well samples from their songs “From Royal Ave” and “Nothing, Just Looking at the Moon” and the song “Blue Line Homicide” by Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck.

The soundtrack was created with advice from musician Jacob Rosati. It will be made available for download later in the summer. For more info please subscribe to the podcast, tumblr, or follow us on twitter.

Links

Crank Sturgeon still performs and tours regularly. He also builds contact microphones and other circuit bent sundries, one of which was used in the production of this episode. A full recording of his set used in this episode is available here.

Crank Sturgeon, 2012, from Wikimedia.

Shane Broderick spent most of his twenties making music with his friend Ted (and later, their friend Josh Hydeman) under the name Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck. Their music is a good example of the subgenres Grindcore and Power Electronics. The name is also exemplary of those subgenres. The performance video which is referenced in the documentary, taken in the mid-00s, has been removed from Youtube. A video from that period is visible here, uploaded by the band’s Ted Sweeney. (contains nudity)

Shane Broderick, from Existence Establishment

Ron Lessard still runs RRRecords in Lowell, Massachusetts. He previously performed under the name Emil Beaulieau. A collection of performances, including the one used in the documentary, can be seen in the video compilation below. 

Emil Beaulieau: America’s Greatest Living Noise Artist, from Youtube

Andrea Pensado still makes music and performs live. She composes in Max/MSP. Her most recent release is a pair of live collaborations with Id M Theft Able. Her former project, with Greg Kowalski, is QFWFQ. 

Andrea Pensado live performance, 10-13-13, from Youtube

Angela Sawyer owned Weirdo Records until it closed in 2015. She now performs comedy and experimental music around Boston. 

Angela Sawyer, from her personal website.

The interview with Andrea Pensado was recorded along with my friend Samira, who was producing her own documentary of Boston’s experimental music scene, below. It includes footage from the Andrea interview as well as her own separate interview with Angela Sawyer. 

“The Noise” by Samira Winter, from Youtube

Luigi Russolo’s manifesto is The Art of Noises

Luigi Russolo and the Intonarumori, with his asst. Uglo Piatti, from Wikimedia

Transcript

Brendan: Would you mind telling me about the show at [withheld] , from six years ago, down the street?

Shane: Yeah, um, I was setting up a show with some old-school Detroit noise dudes. When we showed up, the owner was there instead of the doorman, and he was just upset cause he was there on, like, a Tuesday night. 

So what ended up happening was is, uhh, two bands played and he came up to me a said, “show’s over.” “Well there’s still two bands to play,” and he’s like, “I don’t care, the show’s over.” I’m like, “the show’s been booked for two months.” Just because you want to go home and, like, jerk off into a kleenex or whatever it is that you fuckin’ do. It has nothing to do with me. And he got upset, and I was like, well listen dude, how about the last two bands play at the exact same time.” So that’s what we did. Warmth and Twodeadsluts collaborated. It lasted about fifteen seconds, and the owner came over and kicked a table with everyone’s gear on it. So the only logical thing for me to do as a Bostonian–– and I have pride being a Bostonian–– is I just looked at this guy and I was like, “I don’t care how big he is, or how Italian he is, I’m gonna wind up, and I’m gonna punch this guy right in the fucking face.”

Brendan: And what happened?

Shane: That guy hit me back––I-I lost a little bit of time there. He’s a lot bigger than me. Uh, clocks went still. I kinda woke up, I was on the ground, and he was smashing everyone’s gear. Cops came in, they put me in a car, they, y’know told me to leave and blah blah blah.

Brendan: Is that the only time cops have been called on you?

Shane: No. Not even close.

music: “Blue Line Homicide” | Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck

You’re listening to Stories About Music, a podcast on the subjects of music, journalism, and memories, and how the line between those three things is often not as clear as I’d hoped.

My name is Brendan Mattox, and this is story about music number eight, “Who’s Afraid of the Art of Noise?”.

Room 1 (Crank Sturgeon)

Cars pass by on Massachusetts Avenue, seen out the front window of Weirdo Records in Cambridge. It’s night time. A few young men in their twenties sit on the floor of the small storefront, waiting as Crank Sturgeon sets up in a corner.

Crank: Cool. So, do you think this is our show? Shall we wait, or?

Angela: I think…What time is it? It’s not eight-thirty, that’s probably most of our show. Let me turn that off.

Crank: Not that uh, four’s a wonderful audience, I’ve played for two. One of them was my brother who never saw me before that point…and Id Em Thft Able and I had some very bizarre sexual ritual in front of my brother, involving instant powdered milk and a plastic poster from 1970 of this naked woman holding a stuffed animal…And I had a penis helmet at the time… but alright, well I will perform for you hello, my name is Crank Sturgeon everybody… (6:37) We could do a performance where I have everyone sing introductions of themselves to each other. Everyone up on your feet. 

Crank: Hello! My name is Craaaaaaannnk Sturrrgeon!

Angela: Hello! My name is Angela Sawyyyyyeerrrrrr!

Crank: All at once now!

Brendan: And I am Brendan Mattox!

Crank: Hi Brendan Mattox, my name is Crank, it’s a pleasure to meet you, you have a really firm handshake. And this man in the corner, what’s your name? Andrew, another Andrew, Brendan, Angela.

Angela: Wow, we’re nearly phonemes.

Crank: Ahh, phonies…

Crank Sturgeon sits down behind his instruments: a few tape recorders, a sharpie, and a loudspeaker full of tacks and jelly beans.

Crank: First Piece, oh, wait. My brand new fish helmet, so I can lose even more water to my body. There we go. First piece is improvisations with the letter D. Delirious, Delightful, Delicious, Dumb, Dumbfounded, Dimwit, Diplodocus, Dinosaur, Diana, Dagnasty, Dagnabbit, Diddling, Dawdling, Doodling, Dude Ranch (buzzing noise) Dick, Doofus, Dammit, Darn, Dangle, Drink, Drunk, Dank, Dork, Dusty, Dunce, Distinguished! Development! Duplicitous.

Crank is wearing a black garbage bag over his head, adjusted so his face and white goatee peek through the hole he’s cut in it for air. On either side of the bag are two enormous fish eyes, drawn on card stock, with marker. 

I’m here tonight reporting a story about a couple of loosely associated experimental musicians from Boston, a story whose meaning is starting to exceed my grasp.

Brendan: How would you describe Crank Sturgeon?

Crank: In uhh, a sentence? Brendan: I have no idea. How would you describe the experience of being Crank Sturgeon?

Crank: Well it’s, uh, it’s not a party.

Angela: It is so.

Crank: It is a party. It’s funny because, I’ve survived for awhile, through the many phases of experimental music.

Brendan: What do you mean the many phases?

Crank: The many phases. You’d go to a show in 1996 in a basement in Allston and it was like, a tough guy scene. 

Angela: People sitting on the floor, like indian style, and a dude looking at his belly button going “doonk-doonk-doonk.”

Crank: (laughs) Very true…

Angela Sawyer, the owner of Weirdo, jumps in. She and Crank know each other going back to the nineties, when they were at the beginning of the path that has led to the three of us standing in a circle in her record store.

Brendan:  what’s the trick to growing old with grace within the experimental community?

Crank: Oh that’s a really fun question, because I’m still figuring it out. I think…did you want to say something?

Angela: Well I feel like no one– when I was twenty, or eighteen, and I met people who were much older than me, it never occurred to me to look at myself from their point of view, ever. So I only ever thought, “oh, that person is as old as my mom and my dad, but they’re doing what I want instead of what my parents are doing. Once you get to be–– I’m in my forties…then is when you’re like, oh, I have been there so many times and they have no idea where I am. So that’s when you start to feel marginalized a little bit

Room 2 (Shane Broderick)

The TV in Shane Broderick’s living room is on mute. A weather man gestures in to a map of New England in shades of blue and purple. At the top of the screen is a red banner with the words “Blizzard Warning.” It’s mid-afternoon. Shane and I are drinking cans of beer that Shane brought out of the fridge.

Shane: I was always playin’ music and stuff since I was a little kid. Even when I was, like, twelve years old I’d be up late smokin’ weed and messing with drum machines and stuff like that.

Brendan: Where’d you get your hands on a drum machine at age twelve.

Shane: Uhh, Christmas present.

Brendan: Christmas present?

Shane: Yeah.

Brendan: That’s pretty cool.

Shane: Yeah, I had my beginner guitar and a drum machine. Y’know once I was like, fifteen and stuff I got a job, started collecting equipment…I thought I’d make a career out of it but I ended up just being, like, a lifelong mailroom guy.

When he was 19 years-old, Shane dropped out of college in Florida and moved back to Massachusetts. He started making abrasive music with a friend he knew while working at a gas station in high school. 

Shane: We worked together and every time we finished a shift it would be like a hundred and something dollars under, and I was like, what the fuck this kid man.

They called themselves Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck.

Shane: We joked around on the internet about how we were going to start the most extreme band ever and how the first record we’d just put a bunch of contact mics in a blender and throw a rabbit in it and whatever it sounded like, that was the first LP. Which we never did. [music in]

Brendan: But what instead came out of it was…

Shane: I stuck my boner in a blender. Which was a demo that we did which was me and him coaching eleven of our friends, we were just trying to make circus music with grindcore parts.

Shane: We got reviewed in something like Metal Maniacs, that was like a magazine that when I was ten years old and my mother would drag me to CVS to grab things, I would sit in the aisle and look at, like, pictures of like, Slayer looking sexy and stuff like that, so I was like “oh shit, I’m in this magazine now.” After that, me and him decided to keep the name and go forward with it.

Shane is in his early thirties and he still makes music, although Twodeadsluts hasn’t been active for awhile. He also still plays shows sometimes, though he doesn’t really enjoy it.

Shane: I don’t know I think it’s just, like, nerves. It was easier with the other guys because we were more like a wrecking crew. Y’know, get blind stinkin’ drunk and it didn’t really matter what happened.

Brendan: What would one night at a TDS show end up being like?

Shane: It would start off sloppy and then I wouldn’t remember then end of it. 

(Indiscriminate yelling)

Shane: We’re Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck from Boston, and we need the drum machine way fucking louder. Get that shit way the fuck up.

Brendan: When you guys got onstage, there seems to be sort of a pattern. You start off with some harsh feedback, and then it progresses into stuff getting knocked over.

Shane: There was definitely a lot of feedback and definitely a lot of things knocked over.

They were also usually naked. 

Shane: I think we were probably more performative over substance, to be quite honest. In those early shows we were just using five or six microphones, a bunch of fx pedals running back into each other, and just whatever sounds were happening, were happening

[music]

Shane: Either people really liked it or found it very entertaining, and on the flipside– we’d have people picket our shows, feminists thinking that we were, like, um, promoting sexism… Just that band name wipes off at least 70% of the population from even giving you a chance. It’s probably a higher percentage than that…

Brendan: So the choice of the band name then, was it to…

Shane: It was kind of like, a filtering mechanism and also it was like an inside joke that just kept going and going, and no one was really in on it but us. The band wasn’t supposed to last ten years either.

Shane: I can’t even give you any rationale behind it…it really might look pretty forced, but it was actually pretty natural for the people involved in the band.

Brendan: Why was it so natural?

Shane: I don’t know. That’s a question for a therapist. I don’t know.

I sip from my can of beer even though it’s empty. Shane plays with the pull tab on his. On the television, the weatherman predicts a foot of snow is going to cover Boston over the next two days. Shane, still dressed in scrubs from the hospital where he works, says,“I got to work tomorrow no matter what.”

There’s a half-open ironing board against a wall. In the bathroom, the sink is plastered with shavings. Next to the un-flushed toilet sits a stack of musical notation paper. I stare at it, because it says something specific about the person I’m speaking to. I can’t figure out what, or why.

Brendan: If you could maybe, like, point me in the right direction of some people in the area to talk to…

Shane: I think you should definitely talk to Ron in Lowell. He runs triple-R records. He’s kind of, America’s greatest living noise artist. Like a godfather type…

Room 3 (RRRon)

I walk out Shane’s front door and into Ray Robinson’s café in downtown Lowell. Ron Lessard waits for me in a yellow booth along the window. Through the rain on the glass, the world outside is a blur of different shades of gray.

Brendan: Where should we begin?

Ron: (chewing noises) So. Today is Wednesday. I’m eating lunch. I’m almost through with my fries, soon I’ll be starting on my burgers. Fuckin’ awesome.

Ron is the noise expert, one of the engines driving America’s experimental music scene since the 80s. Ron has released about 1000 recordings on Triple-R’s in-house label.

Ron: I was the source. And everybody who ever learned how to play a tape backwards or make feedback decided to send me a demo. And man, I heard so much crap like you wouldn’t believe…I mean, how many Rock’n’roll bands are awesome, and how many suck beyond belief?

Ron first got into noise music around 1981, after he left the Air Force and came home to Lowell.  

Ron: There was a mail-order outlet out of Colorado called Aeon A-E-O-N. When I got their catalog, I couldn’t believe the stuff they had listed. They had, like, Whitehouse albums, New Blockaders, Maurizio Bianchi, and it’s like who the fuck are these guys? So I started buying that stuff  and I was like, woah, this is what I’ve been looking for all these years. The guy that ran it became a survivalist kind of guy, y’know, living out in the woods with his gun type of thing and, actually, he eventually sold me his entire inventory, I bought him out.

Ron: When I first opened I tried to specialize in all the really weird imports, bizarre bands and that kind of stuff, y’know. But at the same time, I knew enough to know that pedestrians, your average everyday person, has no freakin’ clue. They just want to listen to a Barry Manilow or whatever the fuck they like, y’know.  

His store, RRRecords, opened in 1984.

Ron: After Aeon, I was the guy that was thoroughly obsessed, and I just devoted myself to it…Day in day out noise, morning, noon, and night. Listening to tapes, checking out bands all day every day. At that time Heavy metal wasn’t heavy enough, punk rock wasn’t extreme enough, Noise did it for me, it really did.

Ron started performing noise music himself under the name Emil Beaulieau. Footage from from the nineties, like this, show him using vinyl records and their accessories as instruments. 

This is another way to look at noise music: instead of using something like a trombone, or a tuba, a guitar, or a piano, you take whatever you can find, whatever objects appeal to you, and you refashion them into something expressive. The screeching noise you hear is coming from a modified turntable, which Ron stands behind with a goofy look on his face, pretending to polish record.

Ron: Remember to always, always use the circular motion when cleaning your records.

From that perspective, noise is a positive, creative philosophy, and I can see how people get so obsessed with it.

Ron:A lot of people, y’know, they can’t play guitar, they can’t play the drums–– but twisting knobs and screaming your brains out, getting out that primal scream, whatever it is…it’s inside everybody.

Brendan: And speaking of which, what’s your personal experience with it.

Ron: (Darkly) What do you mean?

Brendan: I mean with Emil Beaulieau.

Ron: Yeah.

Brendan: Well you just said that Noise music was this personal experience. How did you get stuff out through Emil Beaulieau?

Ron: I–I’m not sure where your leading, as far as recording or getting the name out?

Brendan: Why did you start Emil Beaulieau?

Ron: ––you know, I just wasn’t any good at sports (laughter).

The uncomfortable moment sticks in the back of mind for the rest of our interview. Though Ron’s eloquent and energetic, as I was warned he would be, he’s also a little guarded. Maybe that’s because I showed up looking for someone to answer the criticisms of noise music or its culture, which he brushes off with a simple:

Ron: Lately? Lately I’m out of it.

Brendan: When was the last time you were in it?

Ron: Seven years ago (laughs)

Brendan: So let’s go back seven years, because this is something that keeps coming up in interviews with people. Seven years ago, things were very…

Ron: Active.

Brendan: Active.

Ron: Wicked, wicked, wicked active.

Brendan: What’s happened?

Ron: The bands that are making noise today sound like the bands that were making noise ten years ago, that sound like the bands making noise twenty years ago, y’know they sound exactly the same, they’re doing the same freakin’ feedback, they’re still screaming the same lyrics, y’know, it’s just the same thing over and over and over and over again. Which is fine, y’know, punk rock exists for a reason, y’know. The young people, they’re totally into it because it’s new for them. It’s like wow this is freakin awesome these guys are screaming their brains out! They’re talking about killing people! But then ten years later it’s the same thing all over again…I mean do you want to listen to that same band for freaking ten years in a row? I mean do you still want to hear Aerosmith? No you don’t (laughs).

He seems tired in a way that I’ve not seen before. As we talk, I get the sense that what Ron and I are doing has become an exit interview.

Ron: I did what I had to do. I did what I had to do and just to keep doing it because somebody else wants me to? Wrong freakin reason. That’s how bands start to suck. So fuck that y’know.

Y’know there was a time when I couldn’t wait to get on stage and scream my brains out. It’s like, well I mean y’know, you ever had a girlfriend? You make out with her it’s like the best! And then one day, you don’t want to make out with her anymore. It’s no different.

I mean, it’s been seven years. I stopped performing seven years ago, March of ’06. It’s now March ’13. It’s seven freaking years that I’ve stopped. Chances are you’re not doing the same thing you were doing seven years ago. And I’m willing to bet, seven years from now, you’re not going to be doing the exact same thing you’re doing now. People change, they move on. Been there, done that, why do it again?

music: “Fog in the Ravine” | Lejsovka & Freund

The scene dissolves. In the darkness, I think of the question that I wish I’d asked. This isn’t just some thing Ron was doing, it was the thing – what can you do when you lose touch with the something that was core to your identity?

Room 4 (Andrea Pensado)

Andrea: I think it’s very important to not to be scared of being in a place of not knowing. To be in a place of uncertainty, is excellent! Even if it is uncomfortable. Honestly, I don’t want a comfortable life. 

I’m sitting in a cozy loft apartment in Salem, while my friend Samira chats with a small, owlish woman in her late 40s named Andrea Pensado.

Andrea: Well if you feel it at twenty than you cannot imagine in your forties.

Samira: I just taste it and I’m like, ‘wow, I’m just feeling all the sugar.’

Andrea: I ate a lot of chips, it was a bad idea. With beer, y’know, not good.

Samira is working on her own documentary about experimental music.

Andrea first got interested in music when she was a little girl, growing up in Buenos Aires.

Andrea: Eh, I was living in an apartment building, and a friend of mine, she started taking piano lessons. She showed me her music and I saw the notation, ehh, and I was fascinated. Honestly I was not aware of such a rich experimental music background until when I was in Poland… 

She left Argentina to study composition in Krakow as an adult. But the music she composed on paper was so complex, that she often had trouble finding people to play it. Andrea likes to think about timbre–– the color of sound, what differentiates one instrument from another.  To wring out some really interesting timbre with traditional instruments, you’ve got to do some out there stuff.

Andrea: Like, I don’t want to be just writing for the drawer.

And then, Andrea went to the Audio Art Festival, a meeting of the minds held in Krakow every November. The festival focuses on objects used to produce sound: musical instruments, but also computers. 

Inspired, Andrea taught herself to program and began using electronics in her work.

Andrea: So I create a wifi for myself just to avoid latency, you can work with any wife…So my controllers are! An iPod–– I say, I look like an apple merchandise stand, which is quite depressing, but you know, what can I do? So this is an iPod with a special application I use to… [iPod click]. Well, first I have to set up the wifi, I show you…

Andrea is wearing a a headset like the kind people use to play video games. She’s sitting at her computer with an iPod Touch in her right hand. 

Andrea: This is a simple wave, just a simple low tone. So if I move it like this, I change the pitch. And then if I do like this, the distortion is the direct result of– 

She twists and bends her arm manipulating the sine wave into a complex pattern.

Andrea: And I can do the same if I had my voice…

Then she flicks on her mic.

Andrea: Hey, hah, that’s my voice! (noise) hello! Hah! (pause, noise ends). So you know it’s quite dramatic.

Andrea: Maybe for somebody who is not a lot in music, this seems harsh. I don’t think this is harsh at all, this is just the way new music is going. I do believe that, even though I don’t think what we do now is better than what was done in the Renaissance, ok, I do believe that there is constant change, and that artistic languages keep having a need of refreshing themselves, ok?…yeah?

Brendan: (18:49) Why do you think music is shifting in that direction?

Andrea: To explore timbre…Because now, thanks to the technology, we have access to it. It’s easier to manipulate. We are like kids, we are, like, playing. (12:26) I compare it to the beginning of the baroque, where they became aware of chords, of verticality, and then for 300 years, they explore that.

Andrea’s grandiosity reminds me of the document that first inspired me to pursue this project. In 1913, a young painter named Luigi Russolo wrote a letter to a composer he admired. The two of them were part of an Italian movement known as Futurism. Russolo’s letter ended up as one of the movement’s major manifestoes, The Art of Noises. 

In The Art of Noises, Russolo laid out a framework for the music of the new industrial world, in which the city itself is both the inspiration and the instrument. 

For centuries life went by in silence, at most in muted tones…Amidst this dearth of noises, the first sounds that man drew from a pieced reed or stretched string were regarded with amazement…and the result was music, a fantastic world superimposed on the real one…

We Futurists have deeply loved and enjoyed the harmonies of the great masters. Now, we are satiated and find far more enjoyment in the combination of the noises of trams, backfiring motors, carriages and bawling crowds than in rehearsing the “er-O-i-ca” or the “Pastorale”.

We cannot much longer restrain our desire to create finally a new musical reality, with a generous distribution of resonant slaps in the face. Discard violins, pianos, double-basses and plaintive organs…

I am not a musician, I have therefore no acoustical predilections, nor any works to defend. I am a Futurist painter using a much loved art to project my determination to renew everything. And so, bolder than a professional musician could be, unconcerned by my apparent incompetence and convinced that all rights and possibilities open up to daring, I am able to initiate the great renewal of music by means of the Art of Noises.

It is, and I am one to talk, very pretentious. And yet, I kind of sympathize with the guy. When I started making a podcast, I was intent on remaking a whole sector of journalism with my own bold incompetence.

A man of his word, Luigi built these giant boxes called the Intonarumori, whose purpose was to make a bunch of noise. A photo of them often accompanies The Art of Noises, and you can see Russolo standing behind one, this thin guy with a mustache, a hand placed on the crank handle at its back. 

Like most manifestoes, The Art of Noises says very little about its writer, except what he wanted to be: a great destroyer come to remake the world in his image. If you’re a certain type of young person, that idea is very attractive, and you can embrace it without really thinking about what other things you might put to the side to achieve that.

Samira: What’s your, I know you’ve done a lot of work with visual, audio and visual.

Andrea: Well that’s with my ex-husband (laughter). Greg, whom I met in Poland, he comes from video, from cinema. We had a duo, eventually, I stopped doing my own to work for our duo, which we worked together for ten years. Greg did the images and I did the sound. And we work on interactivity. Then we split, so now I work just with sound.

Brendan: How is your music different working with your ex-husband, than after?

Andrea: The main goal of our duo was to have real time interaction between images and the sound. So if there was something onstage like a movement or, whatever, it had simultaneously a result in both. It gave some rigidity. So now that the interaction isn’t so important, I have much more freedom to just to improvise. It’s like much, much more freedom.

Room 6 (Angela Sawyer)

Angela: One of the first people I ever met who was interested in experimental music was Ron Lessard. 

I’m standing at the counter in Weirdo Records one afternoon, talking with Angela Sawyer again She’s telling me how she first got involved with the experimental scene, just after she started at U-MASS LOWELL in the early 90s.

I had never been to New England at all, I just flew here on a plane from Denver and I wanted to meet some people, and I didn’t really know what to do, and I heard some other kids saying that they wanted to join the college radio station. They said at the meeting to join up, you have to show up and volunteer…I went back the next day, and there no one was there.

Brendan: How long were you there for?

Angela: Probably an hour (laughs). Finally someone came by…I was just like, “hey, hey, I’m here to volunteer, what should I do?” And they just looked at me like I had three heads. They were like, “why don’t you clean something?” So I found a vacuum and I just started vacuuming…

And I went through all the rooms, and finally I got to a room that I hadn’t been in yet, and there was a person in there, and it was kind of dark in there…So I waited for him to notice me. I said hi, I’m trying to vacuum. I had no idea that it was the air studio and, um, Ron, of course, he’s like a firecracker going off. So he’s like, “OH YES COME ON IN,” he was mic-ing the vacuum cleaner, and I’m just like “oh hi,” and he’s like tell me about yourself, who are you? And uhh, he was really awesome to me

As we walk down memory lane, Angela starts talking about a world that I was once very interested in, the network of noise and experimental artists who connected in the early days of the internet, after decades of being little feudal kingdoms.

Angela: There was definitely a feeling at one point of there being a first-world wide, at least, community, if not worldwide, of people who were listening to the same releases, and they were seeing the same bands, they’d heard some Throbbing Gristle records, and they had a common language and finding out about cool stuff and figuring out how it worked, and they knew what happened when you stuck a clarinet underwater and put delay on it. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about what Angela said at the Crank Sturgeon show, about choosing to live on the Island of Misfit toys without thinking about it very hard. Because I feel, in a lot of ways, that that’s become my life. I’m more devoted now than ever to completing the work I set out for myself, but I’m also deeply unhappy, and more isolated.

Angela: Every town has the person who is like, I’ll become the nun, I’ll sacrifice myself and do all this work and…y’know, I have a store, that’s what I do.

Brendan: Can you talk a bit about sacrificing–– about becoming a martyr for the scene?

Angela: I’m not trying to do that, I actually really dislike that. 

Brendan: How did you fall into the role?

Angela: If you have some job related to underground music, that’s what you’re doing. ‘Cause there’s no money. But that’s one of the only ways you can spend your whole life surrounded by it. 

music: “Fog in the Ravine” | Lejsovka and Freund

Angela: Everything I know about politics and geography and sociology and psychology, and how to sort of figure out how to deal with the world at large, I mostly learned them from records. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had a conversation about anything else. I’m a very narrow person outside of records. Basically, records are sort of my defense system and or window for everything, I think of every record as like a pair of of tinted glasses, and you can look at the whole world through that and see it in a new way, and each good record has a slightly different shade on it, so you never get done figuring out how things work and enjoying new wrinkles in how things are. The bad news is that if you take the glasses off things look terrible, then you have to function like a regular person. And that’s not something I’m very good at.

If I’m being honest, neither am I. I’ve agonized over these interviews for a long time, afraid of saying the wrong thing about the people in them. To call it a “cautionary tale of loving something– an idea– that cannot love you back,” sounded unkind, both to them and to myself. I can’t help but feel at the end that that’s exactly what it is.

I avoided revisiting these interviews for almost five years because they held up a mirror to the shaky logic I built ambitions on. They pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that art cannot save me. It can help me find a way to save myself, by learning to communicate things that I feel deeply in a way that’s truthful, accurate, and honest. But that’s all that it can do. 

And it took losing someone I loved very much to understand that. 

Room 7 (Somerville Ave)

Shane Broderick and I stand on the sidewalk of Somerville Avenue on a cool spring evening. Shane’s arm is in a cast. He’s just finished telling me a story about the time he punched a club owner at a venue up the block. As we’re talking about the reputation that Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck had amongst Boston’s club owners, some of Shane’s friends emerge from the bar where he’s just finished a gig.

Shane: it’s funny because we never actually gave any of the venues our actual performances, it was more like basement parties and shit like that that they were scared of, that they’d heard about.

Brendan: I can’t remember if I got this on tape last time, would you mind describing what the actual performances were?

Shane: Can’t really do that, I don’t know, you can ask these guys.

Friend 1: What’s that?

Friend 2: You gotta lighter? I just realized I left my backpack down there, I got good beer in there but whatever fuck that shit.

Brendan: Would you guys mind describing to me what a normal show by Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck was like?

Friend 2: Is this an interview? I wasn’t ready for an interview man I can’t do that! My voice cannot be heard on tape.

Friend 1: (makes jerk-off motion) It’s like this.

Friend 2: Can I get a lighter from somebody?

Shane: (shouting) It’s like looking at something, and gettin’ so excited and just BAM! And then it’s kind of like aww fuck.

Friend 1: I don’t have a lighter!

Friend 2: Do you have a lighter?

Shane: We need to go home. Need to hide under a blanket.

Friend 2: Do you have a lighter buddy?

Brendan: Nah, I’m sorry.

Friend 2: Motherfucker! How can you do an interview without a lighter? (distant) Fuck! Amateur!

Brendan: So, just so I don’t take up the rest of your time, there was something you said during the last interview. You said that, for TDS, there was this joke that you guys…when the joke stopped being funny, you guys were like, ‘alright, I’m gonna do something else.’

Friend 1: The joke didn’t stop being funny.

Shane: Well ok I’m not sure the joke ever stopped being funny but…

Brendan: So, what, in your opinion what was the joke?

Friend 1: The band was the joke.

Brendan: What specifically about the band was the joke?

Friend 1: I don’t know…

Friend 2: (strike lamppost) Do a funny voice c’mon what the fuck! We’re supposed to be entertained by this shit.

Shane: Alright, you can cut my voice here.

Friend 2: It doesn’t matter what you say so long as it’s in a funny voice it’s cool.

Shane: There are a lot of Boston noise bands and people from Jamaica Plain and Allston and they want everyone to be like, onboard with, ‘hey, we’re all friends, this is a scene! come down to our house play a show blah blah blah.’ And what Twodeadsluts was more like, was just like, ‘We’re not even invited. We’re playing a show, we’re trashing your fuckin’ house.’

Brendan: Do you ever miss it?

Shane: Yeah, of course I do. It is what it is.

Brendan: I feel like that’s a pretty good place to end.

Shane: There you go.

I walk off into the night. A block away, I come to a stop on a concrete island in the middle of Somerville Avenue and look back at Shane and his friends. They were still down by the bench we were sitting on, drunk, being loud, but their noise is drowned out by the cars flying past me, headed for the outskirts of Boston.

Standing here, it occurs to me that need room tone, the sound of the place I’m in. Room tone helps smooth out transitions in editing, makes a radio documentary sound more natural. I’ve forgotten to get it for almost every other interview with the noise artists. But that I remember now seems significant to me, an promise to myself that someday I’ll figure what made this experience worth telling.

Credits

Today’s episode was produced with help from Wes Boudreau and Samira Winter. Editing help by Kyna Doles and Jon Davies. Special thanks today to Lejsovka & Freund, Jacob Rosati, Sean Coleman, Elissa Freeden, Brittany Rizzo, Tyler Carmody, and Birgit from Denmark. 

Visit our website, investigating regional scenes dot org, for more episodes and, this summer, some bonus materials. You can find Stories About Music on your local podcast provider. Please leave a review to helps us find new listeners.

From Philadelphia, I’m Brendan Mattox, back soon with more stories about music.

[itshaejinju]

I ALWAYS WANNA HEAR ABOUT MORANA. C: And the hottest bishie you have.

Morana Tarda

01. Full name: - Morana Tarda

02. Best friend: - Sheridan Edmonton

03. Sexuality: - Bisexual

04. Favorite color: - Red, Purple and Blue.

05. Relationship status: - Semi-commited relationship with Gladiolus.

06. Ideal mate: - Gladiolus.

07. Turn-ons: soft touches to her neck and back, a little bit of violence, someone cooking for her.

08. Favorite food: French fries (specially cajun ones!) and fruits of any sorts.

09. Crushes: Gladiolus and Ignis.

10. Favorite music: Heavy Metal and Electronic

11. Biggest fear: Being forgotten

12. Biggest fantasy: Finding her family and her step brother Cor accepting her past and her.

13. Bad habits: Leaving half empty cans of booze or soda all over the place or in the floorboard of Regalia. Leaving the cap off the toothpaste and towels on the floor.

14. Biggest regret: Morana really doesn’t regret much unless she’s drunk then those things spills and they are generally shallow like stuff, “I regret not punching that barista out for shorting me on my whip cream!”

15. Best kept secrets: She kept the secret of Prompto’s origins a secret until Episode Prompto and she’s “yeah I knew another reason why I want you dead.”

16. Last thought: She’s not as bad as she think she is. Morana is just rough around the edges and rather not deal with a lot of people as she’s a scared girl.

17. Worst romantic experience: Her first technical date with Gladiolus he went to kiss her and she panicked not knowing what he was doing with his face so close to hers and end up headbutting him and running off.

18. Biggest insecurity: That her mental stability will break one day and she won’t be able to return from the break down.

19. Weapon of choice: Kusarigama

20. Role Model: Aranea Highwind.

————————

My hottest bishie? HMMMMMM, well I don’t have one for FFXV all my characters are female for that ‘verse.

BUT

My book…I have a few I’ll do MY TWO favorite bishies of my book.

A.J Boheim

01. Full name: - Alexander James Boheim

02. Best friend: - Tyler Smith

03. Sexuality: Heterosexual

04. Favorite color: green

05. Relationship status: Single

06. Ideal mate: Christie Brinkley (yes the boy wants to date the model)

07. Turn-ons: Back rubs, dancing, arms stroked, hair played with, complimenting his physical features.

08. Favorite food: SPICY foods, he’ll eat anything if you put spice on it pretty much. (Human trash can, sporty dude loves to eat)

09. Crushes: Beyonce, Cindy Crawford, Eva Longoria, any cheerleader from school.

10. Favorite music: Punk, SKA, Rock, Electronic and Screamo.

11. Biggest fear: That his magic isn’t expandable like the others and he’s just always going to be the “dumb muscle”.

12. Biggest fantasy: That he won’t be forever the dunce and be adored by the rest of the group.

13. Bad habits: Leaping before he thinks, shooting first and ask questions later and leaving plates around everywhere with crumbs on it.

14. Biggest regret: Being the one that is partially responsible for Clara getting kidnapped and raped.

15. Best kept secrets: That Blair went to a Enya concert and cried.

16. Last thought: He is a challenge to write because he’s SO OUTGOING but he is so funny and a ball to write his goof ups. He’s a sweetheart underneath all the outgoing exuberance.

17. Worst romantic experience: His first date in 7th grade with a girl named Pansy, he tried to dance with her but ended up stepping on the hem of her dress tripping over it and ripping her dress. He spent the whole night apologizing for it and ended up working extra at his father’s shop to pay for it.

18. Biggest insecurity: That he is apart of the group just because he got caught up in the mess and not really needed by them.

19. Weapon of choice: A Beretta 92 A1 and a Smith and Wesson 500

20. Role Model: Clara (surrogate sister) and his father Joseph. 

Blair Smith

01. Full name: Blair Aisaya Smith

02. Best friend: his twin brother Tyler

03. Sexuality: Bisexual

04. Favorite color: Black

05. Relationship status: Single but pining for Clara.

06. Ideal mate: Clara Storme

07. Turn-ons: Blood (vampiric tendencies), being pampered (mother issues), playing with his hair, tending for his loved one.

08. Favorite food: Before becoming a vampire he enjoyed Asian foods and German foods in particular. Now he’s only for blood.

09. Crushes: Clara…

10. Favorite music: Progressive Rock, Folk, Emo, Rock, Heavy Metal, Punk, Electronic, Goth Metal.

11. Biggest fear: That he will outlive his friends and family and that he will fail at controlling the raging monster within.

12. Biggest fantasy: That he will win Clara’s heart and get rid of Roderick and save the day.

13. Bad habits: Leaving clothes hanging around, leaving books all over the place.

14. Biggest regret: That he was not there to watch over Clara, thinking that his twin was strong enough to make sure she didn’t get kidnapped.

15. Best kept secrets: That he and his brother lived on their own since they were 12 lying to the government about their parents being around and doing the adults legal stuff so they wouldn’t be tossed in the Foster Care.

16. Last thought: Blair looks like a typical goth boy but under the black clothes and the gloomy looks he’s a kind and passionate guy who will do anything for the ones he loves.

17. Worst romantic experience: One of his first dates with this girl she had braces and he had longer hair at that time and went to kiss her and his hair got caught in her braces.

18. Biggest insecurity: That his inner monster will break through and kill those who don’t need to be killed…

19. Weapon of choice: Desert Eagle .357 Magnum and a Sig Sauer P365

20. Role Model: Edgar Allan Poe (from a writing standing point…) his brother Tyler and Ulrik. (Ulrik is a werewolf .)

@cagedbycravings (I think you would like the answers for these as well as it deals with Morana and my characters from my books.)

[killiansbutt]

cana, zero (mystana, 1/1)

pairing: mystana (Mystogan x Cana) words: ~980 rating: c for cute (k+ probs)

38: I work pretty hard around here, but you get all the credit (prompt from here) 

Cana sniffed the drink a frazzled bartender shoved into her hand, eyebrows shooting up at the scent. Either the bartender was an idiot -- which she didn’t rule out immediately when she spotted him -- or some dunce thought she wouldn’t tell if someone tried to mix her drinks with something else. She couldn’t tell what, just something out of place among the ingredients of her favorite beverage. With another sniff, she detected something like magic. Oh, someone in here was very naughty indeed and not in a good way.

Well, no time like the present. 

She raised the drink to her lips as though to drink it, eyeing the room for someone a little too interested in her movement.

Only issue: she had a lot of people watching her. She lowered her drink, allowing a goofy smile to grace her lips. If she couldn’t catch them just from first glance, she would bait them in. No way was she letting some dumb-ass get away with this after all the effort she put into having the night off. 

Bingo, she thought, spotting a man few seats over rise up and wander in her direction. A stranger too, with sandy hair and a charming grin, but more importantly: someone who wouldn’t know at first glance that Cana was faking it. With a smile she based entirely off Lucy’s drunk smiles, she tilted her head demurely as he settled into the seat beside her. 

“I see someone is having a good time, but all alone...?” He asked, voice pitched low for her ears alone. She hid a disbelieving snort as she lent closer as though straining to hear his voice.

“My friends ditched me for their dates,” she said with a pout.

“Oh? How does a lovely someone like you not have one?” 

She did. He was just fashionably late or building up his disguise before he arrived, but she didn’t tell him that. Instead, she let her hand drift down to rest on his knee. “Mine ran late, I’m guessing I’ll need to find a new one,” she purred, fingers dancing on his knee. 

“I’m all man right here, darling.”

Cana guffawed before she could stop herself and she knew the instant his eyes narrowed that her cover was blown. “I don’t see any men here yet,” she mused aloud, digging her nails into his knee, pleased with his little flinch. “Just a little boy who thinks I wouldn’t notice when he tried to drug my drink. Maybe you missed this little bit when you sent it my way?” She twisted in her seat, tapping the Fairy Tail symbol on her side, laughing again at the sudden twitch he made to get away. 

He flung his hand out, shoving her back into the bar, the drink sloshing between them and spilling over her bikini top. The bar fell silent as she stared at the dark stain left on the blue material. The man yelped, stumbling away and her hands grabbed one of her cards, pouring magic into it to trap him, when at once the man tripped over nothing, face planting against the floor. He didn’t move and she lowered her hand, suspicious of the sudden murmur around the room. One by one, people settled into seats or onto the floor, falling into a sleep.

Snorting, she stuffed her card back. “I worked pretty hard to get that guy and you’re going to get all the credit for it now.” 

Though he wore a hood over his head, she would recognize his voice anywhere. “Apologies,” Mystogan said untruthfully, stepping toward her. “I did only arrive towards the end.” 

“Let me guess, when I laughed?” It was something of a running joke between them that he arrived whenever she did a real laugh, as if he had a sense for when she was in a good mood. Truthfully, he always showed up whenever she had a show of real emotion. 

“As always, I’m sure,” he agreed, close enough that she could see his lips twitching. Her brows shot up, surprised to read the truth in his face: he had been here watching since the beginning, undoubtedly amused by her tactics.

She leaned against him when he was close enough, arms crossed beneath her breasts. His eyes strayed down, a furrow to his brow as he studied the stain before drifting his gaze back to her face. “Such eloquent conversation today, Mystogan. You’re definitely wooing me.” 

“Of course.”

“When do we go back to three words then, huh?” She uncrossed her arms long enough to tap his chest, somewhat pleased that his hoodie was cool to the touch. After being in a stuffy room and then subjecting herself to the idiot’s breath as he spoke, she was all for finding fresh air. 

“Soon.” Her exasperated look drew a laugh from him.

“Let’s take this one to the authorities and go get ice cream, yeah? You can woo me more with your three sentences or less stories of your mission.”

“As you wish.” 

She used one of her cards to trap the man, satisfied when it snapped him out of Mystogan’s spell and then gestured to the door. “Don’t forget to wake everyone up, I don’t want a repeat of last time. Well, I’d like a repeat of some of that night,” she said, lips twitching, recalling the adventure of their second date. It was the first time she had seen his living quarters in Magnolia. “But not so much the rest.”

As he led them to the door with his hand on the small of her back, Mystogan looked over at her with a faux frown. “Your lack of faith in me is appalling.”

Cana laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder as his lips mouthed the countdown. Drama king, that was her Mystogan ."Sure, sure, I know, but it keeps you on your toes, right?” She straightened some, pulling his shoulder down so she could speak in in his ear, a giggle escaping her at the way his eyes fell on her. “That’s my whole job, Your Highness.” 

[tired213]

Yuri on ice x Haikyuu.

Alright, so crusing through Tumblr does things to my mind. I know I’m not the only one who has noticed this so time to mash animes.

Ittetsu Takeda and Yuuri Katsuki look a lot alike. I hc them as cousins. Cousins that kinda keep in contact but not really coz they don’t live near each other. Now time for an imagine:

Imagine Takeda knowing about the gayness between several of the boys and the girls, imagine him knowing what it’s like to be a minority in a country town. Now imagine him watching the news one night and finding about Yuuri’s and Viktor’s engagement and immediately calling Yuuri up, despite it being the middle of the night. Imagine him practically begging Yuuri to come to Karasuno and talk to the boys and girls about his struggles. Imagine Yuuri only agreeing coz Viktor wants to meet Takeda. Imagine Yuuri not getting any sleep because Viktor is constantly mumbling and moaning about not knowing about ALL of Yuuri’s family. And no he doesn’t care that Yuuri and Takeda aren’t all that close, so it does want matter.

So imagine a week or so later Yuuri and Viktor turning up at one of Karasuno’s practises and everyone getting creeped out coz ‘why the hell is there a Takeda look-alike at our practice and what is the meaning of the smaller version of Lev?’ Now imagine Yuuri getting all flustered at the amount of people he’s talking too and about how young they are, so all he can do is stamper on about ‘just being yourself and screw what others say’. So his speech gets scraped and the boys and girls don’t really get anything from it.

Then imagine Viktor getting fed up because Yuuri keeps antagonising over how much he stuffed up and bursting into Karasuno with like a hundred different pairs of ice skates, all in different shapes, colours and sizes, and gathering the boys and girls out the front and shoving them, Yuuri, Ukai and Takeda into a hired bus and driving their asses to the nearest ice-rink. Imagine him renting out the place for the day, because he’s got money and he wants to waste some on these Lil shits.

Now imagine Tsukishima being the salty bitch he is and complaining but the second he gets on the ice he’s literally skating circles around the others. Imagine the second he gets on the ice he has that tiny little smile that means he’s genuinely enjoying himself and Viktor tells him that he’d be a great figure skater.

Imagine Yamaguchi being able to hold his own but is too scared to wonder far from the edge, so just awkwardly glides around in circles as Tsuki tries to coax him from the edge. Imagine that Yuuri makes sure to encourage him with a smile every time he goes past. Imagine Yuuri taking him to one side and telling him that he was excellent and should skate more often. Imagine Yams being more confident in his skills because of this and starts to skate around with Tsuki.

Imagine Tanaka and Nishinoya claiming that they’re absolute pros and crashing the first second they are on the ice. Imagine Noya slowly getting better and by the end has just gotten the hand of skating backwards. Imagine Tanaka relying heavily on Yuuri and Viktor before he regains his confidence and goes off to terrorise Ennoshita.

Imagine Asahi not getting on the ice at first, absolutely sure that he’ll crash and has a slight fear that if he does fall someone might accidentally slice his fingers off. Imagine when he finally does get on its only coz Viktor is so nice and Noya seems like he’s having fun and Asahi likes fun. Imagine him being one of the best skaters on the ice and having a face of pure bliss as he moves around on the ice, looking like the angel he really is.

Imagine Ukai being a complete ‘dunce’ and hanging onto Takeda, only for Takeda to find out at a later date that he’s actually pretty good but was just doing it coz he didn’t trust Viktor and didn’t want to leave Takeda on his own near the Russian sex symbol. Imagine Takeda feeling all warm inside because of this.

Imagine Takeda being almost as good as ice skating as Yuuri and the both of them being the adorable dorks they are and making Viktor and Ukai just that little bit hot under the collar. They’ll know about it later, when there aren’t kids around.

Imagine Hinata being the actual dunce and being unable to stand, let alone fucking move on the ice. Imagine Kageyama immediately diving into overprotective boyfriend mode the second one of the better skaters so much as looks at him. Imagine Hinata slowly learning how to skate but complains because he wants Yuuri or Viktor to teach him but Kags is just glaring at them and not letting them close to them.

Imagine Kags not being all too good either so eventually (after the seventeenth time they fall on their asses) he scoots over and awkwardly asks for help. Imagine Viktor laughing but helping him, promising up and down that he isn’t going to touch Hinata. Imagine Hinata glaring at Kags because of this.

Imagine Kiyoko being really unsteady and ungraceful on the ice and surprising everyone when she almost immediately falls over. Imagine her trying to brush it off but clinging to Yachi for the rest of the day.

Imagine Yachi being the beautiful, graceful princess she really is and laughing a little as Viktor and Yuuri cheer at her everything she and Kiyoko skate past them. Imagine her feeling completely at ease on the ice.

Imagine Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita feeling awkward as Yuuri notices them to the back so keeps bringing them foreword and helping them more than the others. Imagine them being awkward and clingy at first and by the end they’re skating almost as good as Tsuki and Asahi. Imagine them believing in themselves because Yuuri did. Imagine them applying this concept in their volleyball training and slowly working up to the leading line during their third year and Ukai being so proud of them.

Imagine Suga hanging back at first because he wants the others to enjoy themselves before he fucking destroys them with his skills. Imagine him fake falling and crashing to make everyone pity him then halfway through the day getting up and near perfectly copying one of Victor’s older routines because the Team Mum is a big fan boy that has been collecting posters of Viktor since he was in his mama’s womb.

Imagine Daichi loving this even though he refuses to let go of the side of the rink but he’s still the one that has the most amount of fun. Imagine him just standing back and watching his team zip around on the ice, recording a few of them but getting camera shy when Suga steals the video camera from him.

Imagine them all laughing and making fun of each other as they skate and when they brake for lunch Yuuri, seeing them all happy, works up the courage and stands on top of a table and clears his throat. Imagine him telling them everything, about how he got drunk and made a fool of himself, about how he couldn’t deal with his losses in a healthy manner, about how much his anxiety affected him and how he wouldn’t get help and just eat his feelings out.

Imagine Yuuri telling them about meeting Viktor and how much the misunderstanding crushed him. Imagine him telling them about how hard he fell for Viktor and how they helped each other throughout the season. Imagine Takeda in tears as each of them pay attention and take in everything he says. Imagine Viktor taking a picture from behind and using his laptop to take all the videos Daichi recorded and uploading it all on his social media tagging everyone he knows. Imagine Pitchit being the first to like it and almost immediately calls up Yuuri, who has to awkwardly pause his speech to let Pitchit gush at the team.

Imagine all of his fans dying over this team and how adorable they are. Imagine when the next season comes around Yurio demanding to meet the team and is instant salt-buddies with Tsuki and Yams. Imagine Hinata trying to square up against Otabek when Yurio finally brings him around because he looked at Kags for longer than five seconds. Imagine Asahi and Otabek being the 'bad rumour buddies’.

Imagine Yuuri and Viktor dropping by during the next training camp in Tokyo because they were in town. Imagine Lev getting pissy because 'holy shit batman my cousin is in town and he didn’t tell me!’ Imagine everyone in Karasuno just collectively going 'I knew it’. Just imagine all the teams calling in the students that had graduated and telling them 'to get your damn asses over now, Karasuno collectively knows FAMOUS people’ Imagine Kuroo and Suga getting together to fan boy over Viktor.

Furthermore imagine Kuroo nearly strangling Lev because 'How did the fact that Viktor Nikiforov is your cousin and my biggest role model slip out of that dumb head of yours?!?’

Just Imagine Yuuri helping the kids with confidence issues and Viktor helping the kids with body image issues. Imagine Viktor and Yuuri getting the kids who can figure skate really well and getting them to help with fund-raisers. Imagine them helping the kids that want to figure skate get onto the scene and lunching their carers. Imagine Viktor and Yuuri going to schools all around the world and teaching kids to love themselves and ice skate because it worked so well for the Karasuno kids.

Imagine Takeda and Ukai helping them spread the positive vibes around the world by pitching in with volleyball lessons. Imagine Viktor and Yuuri turning up to each of the Crows graduations because they love them. Imagine each of the Crows having a second set of parents to turn to when life gets really tough.

Imagine Yurio and Otabek giving the team shoutouts every so often. Imagine the team collectively working together to prank Yurio and Otabek when they’re being shits. Imagine the team coming together several years after they first met Viktor, Yuuri, Yurio and Otabek and planning a huge thank you party for them. Imagine the team being guests of honour at the Viktuuri wedding. Imagine Viktor and Yuuri showing up at the AsaNoya, TsukiYama, DaiSuga, KageHina, KiyoYachi, UkaTake and all the other weddings. Imagine finding strength in each other as the years pass.

Just AHHHHHHHH. Imagine how adorable this would be. I’m sorry that this went on for so long. But I love my hat animes.