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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

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No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

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Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #Dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #tw: noncon #tw: pain play

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iamjungkooked · 4 years

Text

Mr. Min

↳Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

↳Genre: Romance (all fluff)

↳Word count: 4.7K

↳Rating: G

↳Warnings: None

↳Summary:

Min Yoongi is the asshole boss who keeps you late at work every night. But then you find out why and it gives you the upper hand.

A/N: I hope you guys like it!! Finally wrote something less than 5k. It has been a while for sure. Cross posting this from my other blog @iamtaekooked. You guys have been following me on here even though i am like never on here its crazy. I LOVE YOU ALL. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I AM GOING TO TRY POSTING MORE IF MY LIFE LETS ME.

Your hand begins cramping as you finish writing the report for asshole number one Min Yoongi. Writing a report is easy, but having to write it by hand is what makes you want to strangle him. The tiny blue desk clock strikes 11 pm and once again you lose out on the opportunity to live your life. At this point, you have lost track of how many times you have stayed late at the office while your friends enjoy their weekends with dinners, movies and activities. Sometimes it’s so bad that you video call them just as you’re about to drift off to sleep.

You don’t even bother to hope to go home early anymore. Min Yoongi always finds ways to make you stay late with him. You went through the five stages of grief at first because you felt your life was being taken away from you. You even thought of threatening him with a lawsuit because he couldn’t make you work over 40 hours a week. When you did he was quick to turn the tables by offering you overtime pay-- and not a measly sum. It was money you couldn’t turn away. So, once again you let yourself fall prey to his actions.

Slowly but surely you began getting used to this so-called “routine”. Gradually, hours started fading into one another until one day you became so habituated with staying late (and to the mind-boggling pay) that Yoongi didn’t even have to come to your cubicle to hand you anything. You already asked him in the morning for your evening assignment. One would think this would be a hint for him-- but no. The man was as clueless as one could be.

Like any other night, you had an assignment, one which Yoongi labelled as important. But then again everything was important. Any task he assigned (or rather you asked for) he classified as important. You wondered if he understood what the word means because if everything is important then technically nothing is. Rather than ask him about it, which wasn’t necessary anyway you did what you were handsomely paid to do.

A sigh passed your dry lips. Once again you grabbed the pen and began writing-- this time going as fast as your wrist would allow. The ink flowed from the pen to the paper in black scribbles, hardly understandable. But you could not bring yourself to care. He would have to deal with it, and that was that.

Having written the last sentence, you capped the pen and pushed back the chair so you could go to his office. Your heels hurt from wearing six-inch pumps all day. No less would do because turns out asshole Min Yoongi had made that provision because apparently, it looked “more professional”. While walking to his office you just imagined torturing him in your mind by making him wear these fucking heels. It was slightly comical imagery but also satisfying, so much so that you could not help yourself from smiling.

You knocked on the opaque glass door as you reached his office. It was customary for you to knock once and for him to not answer. Normally you would slide the documents or whatever is needed under the door because Yoongi had specifically requested he not be disturbed. But something prompted you to stick your head against the glass door and peer inside through the clear margins. You couldn’t see anything so despite Yoongi’s “request” you turned the knob, opened the door slightly and peeked your head inside. The scene in front of you however was not quite something you were expecting.

Min Yoongi was laying back against his very comfortable looking plush leather rotating chair, with his headphones on, legs resting on top of the table and his eyes fixed with a concentration on his laptop. There were empty boxes of takeout at his desk and the whole image conveyed to you that he hadn’t actually done any work. It was an inkling, which means you could be wrong. But you would be damned if you didn’t make your presence known.

You walked inside, standing halfway between him and the door and cleared your throat as loud as you could. There was no response as expected. You walked a few steps and stopped just short of his desk, yet he still did not notice you. You looked at the report in your hand and threw it on his desk, which landed with a thud. He jumped, and finally looked at you. It took a second but the realization dawned on him. His eyes bulged like he had been caught red-handed and you noticed his adam’s apple bob as he gulped hard.

He hastily took off his earphones and straightened in his chair. “I thought I told you not to disturb me”

“I am sorry, did I ruin the fun?” your brows knit together.

“Do you have the report?” he asked instead.

You look at the papers on his desk and then back at him to make him aware of it sitting in front of his eyes.

He fumbles with the papers and picks them up. While he’s busy scanning the papers you take in the state of his desk. One side is completely neat with all the binders and files organized, and the other is just filled with trash. As you’re busy studying the contents of his desk, you notice the name of your client’s company on one of the papers. Curiously you reach towards the file, Yoongi still busy reading your report. You scan the pages and realize without even having to read halfway through it that Yoongi had already finished the report and it was marked with yesterday’s date, which means he already sent it to the client.

“Do you care to explain this Mr. Min?” your fingers curl into a fist around the papers.

His eyes widen once more. “Oh shit” he mumbles-- a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.

He sighs, dropping your report on the table. “Oh fuck” he rubs his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he says with a straight face just a moment after looking like he’d been caught.

“It looks like you already completed the report. Why did I have to do it if you already did it?”

“I wanted you to” he’s quick to reply.

“I am sorry Mr. Min but that is not a good enough explanation. I stayed here even though I did not have to. I find it unfair that I have to do work that has already been done-- and that too by you. I doubt you don’t trust yourself with work”

“That’s enough with the questions” he replied curtly.

“Wait a minute” you look back at the pile of papers on his desk and find a presentation he had asked you to make for him a week ago. However, the date this presentation was printed was a week before that which means that once again he made you do something that had already been done. Sensing a pattern you decided to confront him right then and there.

“Pardon my french, but why the hell have I been doing work that had already been done?”

Yoongi sighed once more, but this time he sounded more defeated than the first. “Look, I can’t give you an explanation you will like. There isn’t one. But I’ll tell you the truth”

“Good” you fold your arms across your chest.

“You won’t like this either but I asked you to stay late because I wanted you to be here with me. I never got used to working late at night. Something about being alone always irked me, so I started keeping people around. It’s not right, I know” he’s quick to justify just as he noticed you opening your mouth to speak. “Trust me, I know. But then when Brian left and you joined, I knew that I needed you around. So I started asking you to stay late. Turns out, I liked your company more than I have liked anyone else’s so I even started paying you to stay late, which I have never done either” he finishes, The only problem is he doesn’t sound sincere enough. It’s like he’s telling you for the sake of telling you.

“I am sorry Mr. Min but you are not a child. I can’t be putting my life on hold just so you don’t have to be alone at night. Do you have any idea how many occasions and opportunities I have missed in my life because of this? I couldn’t attend my best friend’s graduation, I couldn’t be there for the birth of my nephew because I was here slaving away. To think it was for nothing is terrible. You should really say sorry” you glare at the man, demanding an apology you know you deserve because it doesn’t matter how much money you got paid. It won’t compensate for the memories you could have made.

He purses his lips. “I won’t” he shakes his head. “I know it’s wrong but I don’t say sorry”

You scoff. “You’re an asshole”

He shrugs as if your remark doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be that as it may. I did what I did because I like having you around. In fact, I did it because I like you and I am not ashamed of it”

Under normal circumstances, you probably would have been flattered and even blushed at having been confessed to. But these weren’t normal circumstances and on top of that, it was Min Yoongi.

“How about this-- you can go home early for all of next week” he offers.

It actually makes your blood boil because he thinks he’s being generous. But even if you gave him a wide berth, this wasn’t even cutting it close “All of next month actually” you counter, determined in your own way to make him apologize for his actions.

He considers it. A few beats of silence pass as both of you continue to stare at each other. “Fine” he agrees.

“Good.” you say shortly, before turning on your heels and heading towards the door.

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Yoongi ends up keeping his word for the whole of next month. If it were up to you, you would have asked him that you will never stay late. But after your anger had died down in a week or so, the rational part of your mind convinced you that the money was too good. And it was. So you didn’t try to extend it.

In that one month, however, Yoongi was being awfully generous towards you. You figured it was his way of making up for his actions.

After a week of your heated conversation with him, you found a bouquet of flowers at home addressed to your best friend. There was no name on it. It turned out you did not need a name, because one you knew whose handwriting it was and secondly, the apology was enough for you to know who they were from.

I am sorry y/n missed your graduation. I realize she should have been there with you and it is my fault she was not. I can’t turn back time but I hope these flowers and this small gift make up for it. Congratulations on your achievement.

Accompanying the flowers was a generous gift, one which could have only been given by Yoongi. A full spa weekend with your best friend. It was an all-inclusive offer.

It felt like he was bribing you to forgive him. But even if that were the case, you felt you deserved this and you would be damned if you let it go to waste. If this is how he wanted to apologize, then so be it. In a way, he was giving you the opportunity to spend quality time with Hana.

Hana was ecstatic. “Isn’t it sweet?” she said dreamily.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “It’s not sweet. It’s what he should be doing. Not this exact thing per se. But he needs to be making up for what he did and he is” you reminded her.

“Fine” Hana was quick to give up because even she knew not to argue.

To apologize, at the end of the month Yoongi also ends up giving you the biggest client. This one you feel conflicted about because you can’t discern his intention. So you do the only thing you can. You went charging to his office to demand an explanation.

Maybe he heard you coming but before you could even open your mouth after entering the room he was already speaking.

“I know,” he says as he gave you one glance before focusing on his laptop as he typed away. “I gave you a client because you deserve it. Trying to make up for troubling you is also part of it, but it’s mostly because you deserve it” he explains without sparing you another glance this time. “It just so happens Karla likes you and I think you can understand each other well as women. Not to mention you have great marketing skills that Karla’s company could use” he finishes speaking and the sound of keys clacking stops as well. He gives you his undivided attention. “So” he joins his fingers in a steeple, elbows resting on the desk. “What do you think?”

You don’t even give it a second of thought. “You made a good decision Mr. Min” corners of your lips curve in a smile.

“Of course I did” he reciprocates your smile. “I never make bad decisions” his smile grows into a knowing grin.

You catch the sarcastic play on words. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that”. Your gaze lingers on his a second longer before you nod and turn away to leave.

Just as you reach for the door, he speaks.

“Do your best”

You turn around and give him a curtsey nod. “You bet I will”

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You’re back to working late nights, but this time with Yoongi in his office on actual things that matter.

You and Yoongi have been working on a pitch for Karla’s company to convince them to change their branding. You work late hours into the night as usual. You flirt here and there, but nothing major happens as you both keep it professional(ish). There are a few laughs exchanged, a couple of longing gazes, moments so thick with tension you could practically taste it on your tongue.

You lean over to look at Yoongi’s list of ideas, but unknowingly invade his personal bubble-- that intimate zone only reserved for significant others/spouses. You get caught up in the moment as you look at him, and he looks at you. For a moment you think he’ll kiss you. But instead, he clears his throat. “I’ll be back” his voice is a whisper.

He gets up hurriedly and leaves, clearing his throat all the way to the door.

You watch his figure disappear behind the opaque glass door.

“Keep it professional” you chide yourself with a shake of the head.

You focus back on your notes, flipping through the pages trying to put a concept map together.

A draft of air hits you and you look in the direction to find Yoongi opening the door. He walks in a few feet, one hand hidden behind his back.

Curiosity piqued and you offer him an inquisitive look. “What are you hiding Mr. Min?”

Wordlessly, he brings his arm forward. In his hand is a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.

“How did you-” you start.

“I know” he erases the distance between you as he stops just shy of invading your intimate space and holds out the flowers.

You reach for them. “Thank you. But how do you know I like these?”

“You said it” he mentions.

“I did?” you look at him puzzled.

“Two nights ago. We were talking about using florals to brighten up the aesthetic for Karla’s company and you mentioned baby’s breath is your favourite flower”

“ I don’t even remember saying that” you shake your head, almost in disbelief that he remembered. “You actually remembered?”

He nods. “I remember everything you say” he replies“ no matter how sharply you put it” he adds with a chuckle.

At a loss for words, all you can do is stare at the man filled with a foreign feeling.

“Thank you” you finally manage to say.

“You’re very welcome” his lips curve into a smile.

He returns to his seat while you place the flowers on his desk as gently as you can. Once he’s seated you take the opportunity to ask. “Mr. Min” you address him.

“Yeah” he looks at you in a way that makes your heart race faster.

“Why did you give me these?” it feels like the incessant urgent know has been satisfied and you feel relieved.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to” he looks down at the papers in front of him. A few moments of silence pass as you continue studying him while he keeps his gaze downcast. “An-anyway let's get back to it” he quickly changes the subject.

You nod. Under the dim lighting of his office, for the very first time you notice how handsome he looks. His skin looks like porcelain, his eyes glimmer with a hint of golden flecks around the irises. His lips look buttery soft. You bite back on your lip as you realize how much quicker you’re breathing.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi questions as he looks up at you.

You vigourously shake your head. “I just— I am sorry”

“I caught you staring didn’t I?” he responds but it’s not really meant to be a question. “I don’t mind. I like the attention” he winks.

Your eyes widen. “I— I wasn’t” your attempt at denying it is futile and even you know it. But you have to at least attempt to save face.

“If it helps, I actually think it’s cute” his lips upturn in a playful smile.

You keep mum, considering there is nothing to say. Even though you don’t speak, the smile on your lips says everything Yoongi needs to know.

You hear him softly laughing and you can sense him just shaking his head. Then you hear something and you aren’t sure if you hear it right but it sounds an awful lot like “you’re cute miss y/n”

You end up spending another hour brainstorming ideas. After that last exchange between you, you thought you couldn’t concentrate. But you did. And once more you flirted a little, exchanged gazes, and avoid as hard as you can to pay no mind to the vibe between you.

“I think we should call it a night” Yoongi stretches his arms over his head with a groan. “You’re tired too”

“Okay” you start gathering all the papers into a pile.

“Don’t worry about this” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ll do it. Start getting your stuff together. I’ll drop you off”

“You don’t have to” you reply, the burdensome feeling coming on. “I can go home”

“Did I give you a choice?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just because I got you these flowers, and that spa day and gave you Karla doesn’t mean you get to tell what I have or don’t have to do. Got it” he sounds a little stern, but in a way where he’s being thoughtful more than trying to be a jerk.

“Yes, Mr. Min” the meekness in your voice surprises you. As you stand in front of him you cannot understand what brings on this sudden submissive attitude. But you have already agreed and something tells you Mr. Min won’t take no for an answer.

“I’ll be right there” he motions to the door with his head, indicating that you should pack up.

“Okay” you pick up the bouquet and quietly walk out of his office.

The walk back to your desk is filled with mixed emotions. A fluttery feeling floats in your stomach, giving you the perception that your head is spinning. You almost stumble as you reach your desk. You realize you’re breathless as you grip onto the edges of the desk to steady yourself. “Shit. So much for keeping it professional” you mutter while you grab your bag. You sling it over your shoulder. You gather the flowers in your hand as you wait for Yoongi.

Moments later he’s coming out. “Ready?” he asks.

With a dry mouth and dizzying intoxication brought upon his presence all you do is nod.

“After you.” he says.

Maybe he isn’t an asshole after all.

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The sounds of crickets chirping in the silence of the night help shroud some of your thoughts. But not enough apparently because merely Yoongi’s presence is enough to send you in a tizzy. It’s maybe only been about five seconds since Yoongi stopped in front of your house but it sure feels like hours.

“Umm” you’re the first to break the silence. “Well, thank you for the ride an-and for these flowers”

“You’re welcome” comes his quiet voice.

You unlock the door, one foot already out of the door.

“Wait” his hand on your forearm stops you.

You turn to look at him. “Yeah?”

“I actually brought you these flowers because I was going to ask you on a date” he confesses.

“Oh” is all you can manage. You don’t know what else to say.

“So, will you…?” he sounds unsure as he says these words, almost like he himself doesn’t know.

He sounds sincere enough. But as it stands you have two choices: give in easily at which point you may as well give up any hope in future of asking him for anything. Or you could just play hard to get so he knows it won’t be easy.

“I’ll think about” confidence flows through your voice, and along with a coy smirk on your lips.

Yoongi’s previously solemn expression is replaced by a crooked smile. He studies you quietly, making you wonder what he’s thinking. “I’ll give you five minutes”

“No. If that’s how long you think it takes to figure out whether I want to give you a chance, then my answer is no”.

“Fine. How long do you want?”

“It’s not about long I want Mr. Min. It’s about how long you are willing to wait” and without hearing his response you exit the car.

All Yoongi can do is stare at you open-mouthed-- stunned and in utter disbelief.

You didn’t know Yoongi would wait for two whole months. You didn’t expect him to keep it professional between you either

You also didn’t expect Min Yoongi to come to your desk at 2 pm and ask you to look over the designs for one of your clients.

“You look lovely today y/n” he stops next to your desk, holding out a file for you.

“I always look lovely” you take the file from him, dismissing his compliment because you’re sure he’s just buttering you up into doing something for him. Not that you wouldn’t if he hadn’t said anything.

“I mean it” his voice softens as he recognizes your disbelief. “Blue looks good on you’” he motions to your blue blouse, and looks you straight in the eyes. He doesn’t even flinch-- which means he actually probably means it.

You certainly don’t regret picking it out anymore. “Thank you”

“You’re very welcome.” he adds with a smile that stretches into a grin. “Oh and can you look this over. Please and thank you”

“I will” you nod. “Question for you”

“Anything” he half sits on your desk as he awaits your ask.

“Did you come here to give me the file or to tell me I look good?”

“I came here to tell you, you look beautiful if what you’re after is my motive” the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft flirty smile.

“I am. But I’ll also look at this” you gesture to the file in your hand.

He acknowledges your response with a nod as he turns around and starts towards his office.

“Mr. Min” you call out and he turns around. “That suit looks great on you”

It takes him a second to comprehend your words, but as soon as he does, he’s back to smiling. “Thank you y/n”

Just as easily he struts away, just as easily everyone around you is stunned into silence. It looks like a comic scene as everyone looks at Yoongi’s retreating figure with mouth’s agape.

“Did he flirt with you?” one of your coworker’s peers over the divide between your cubicles.

You look up at him. “Yes he did”

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At 4 pm, you walk back to his office with your notes on the changes that should be made. You knock on the door once. He doesn’t answer so you take it as your cue to enter.

“Here are the notes” you hold out the file as you stop just in front of his desk.

“It’s already done?” Yoongi is forced to look up his work.

“Yes and yes”

“Okay. You can leave it on the desk” he goes back to his work.

You wait for him to catch on. But he doesn’t. So you start towards the door.

“Wait” he calls out. “Yes and Yes?”

You turn around, feeling giddy with anticipation.

“What’s the second yes for?” he looks at you puzzled.

“I guess you don’t want to go on that date anymore” you quirk a brow.

He closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Took you long enough”

“You reap what you sow Mr. Min”

“Is that right?” it’s rhetorical of course but you nod anyway.

He chuckles. “Let’s go “ he grabs his coat from the back of the chair and swings it around and on his shoulders.

You look at him puzzled. “Right now? What about work?”

“First, I am the boss so I make the rules and I say we go. Second, I made the mistake of offering you five minutes of time to make your decision. You really think I am going to give you a day or two for this date”

You can’t help but laugh. “In that case Mr. Min, let’s go”

He heads to the door first as you follow “After you” he opens it and you’re almost out of the door when he shuts the door. “Wait. I have to do something” he pulls you to himself, supporting you by the waist as he presses his lips to yours.

Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours. But the flutter in your stomach only intensifies. You feel weak in the knees. You hold onto the nape of Yoongi’s neck as your legs begin to tingle. Yoongi’s hands rest on your sides, and gently make their way up to cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue dances against your lips.

Yoongi keeps his eyes slightly open as he pulls back for air. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming so he held onto you tighter, causing you to become aware of the contour of his body flush against yours. “I am sorry if I took you by surprise” he’s slightly breathless and flushed. “I wasn’t sure how the date would go and if I would get the chance to do this. If you don’t want to go anymore” he stops to lick his lips. “I would understand” he finishes.

“So you’re not an asshole after all” you look at him through the curtain of your eyelashes.

He raises a brow at you silently telling you to consider your wording as if you're treading on thin ice. “I am still your boss”

You shrug. “You lost the upper hand when you asked me out”

“I knew I liked you for a reason” he says while he takes a tiny step back to give you space and time to collect yourself.

“I think I might fall” your breathless voice takes you by surprise.

“You already have” he curls his fingers around yours.

Hand in hand you walk out of his office, causing ruckus in your wake as your coworkers gawk in disbelief at your departing figures. Because how could Mr.Min be acting like this? More importantly, how could Mr. Min be smiling like an absolute idiot.

I hope you enjoyed it :) Don’t forget to like and reblog! Thank you for reading.

#bts smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #office au

236 notes · View notes

not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years

Note

Yo, so I flew through Wrong Number, Asshole (which is 😙👌) and I thought his quirk going off over the phone was so cute. But do you think he’d be insecure about it??? Like about holding hands or trying to keep it together if his s/o says something embarrassing? And what else do you think would he be embarrassed about with s/o?

omg tysm!!! i love writing that story so much so i’m glad u enjoy it!!! we do love a good soulmate au here hehe

aNd wow what a good ask thank u for this im obsessed with it and this is gonna be soooo long omg soz

-okay so first. yes. 100,, 10000% embarrassed about it. he feels like he should have his shit together with his quirk since it’s what Bakugou’s so proud of,,,, and like that’s mostly true???

-except i personally hc that his quirk also ties into intense emotion the same way regular sweating does,,, like, if he feels rlly strongly about something, instead of normal sweating it’s just straight nitroglycerin. and he has to like actively learn how to get a handle on it as he grows too!! so like anxiety sweating? sure he’s got it under control, been there done that. scared sweating?? only gets scared in battle and he’s already exploding things by then so its all good. but love???

-oml has no iDEA how to handle it!! i fully believe bakugou’s idiotic mad brain doesn’t fall easy, but when he does , he falls hARD. so lets say he has a major major crush for the first time ever, and he’s just sweating everywhere and his skin feels like it’s on fire - mans just pops. like a bacon griddle. not full on explosions bc he’s not actively setting them off ,, but if u do something cute, something that gets his heart racing just right he’ll pop

-i kinda imagine it’s bc Bakugou can’t understand what he’s feeling bc he’s a big dumb angry person so instead of just accepting his crush he’s like “oh. my palms are exploding by themselves. and i think about s/o constantly. huh. both things at the same time must mean i want to fight them- yeah that’s it. i just wanna fight ‘em real bad.” which only leads to more little explosions.

-pLeasE heLP hIm

-but anyways, you better not say a sinGle thing about this if u see it or hear it. bc man’s is not one to be embarrassed without putting up a fight,,, and this is about explosions , something he knows,,, so he’ll be like “yeah? wanna fuckin’ make fun of me, huh? i’ll show u what to fuckin’ make fun of!” and then just decide to set off a close range explosion in his hands or blow something near u up to high hell

-what can i say, he’s an idiot??

-congratulate katsuki on the explosion tho,, tell him it was really big and scary and thats when you’ll get him reaLLY embarrassed and keep him embarrassed

-speaking of hand holding tho,, he’ll be super nervous to try at first. like he doesn’t want u to end up feeling the little pops bc you’ll ask and then he’ll have to embarrassed and explain and he just isn’t a fan of that idea alright?? quickly comes to realize tho, as he experiences it, that if you hold his hand you’ll actually smother the little explosions??? like just- nothing will happen bc there’s not enough oxygen for anything to combust unless he makes it combust. which he won’t. obviously.

-oooO and here’s sum other “embarrassing” things he does that you’re ~not allowed~ to comment on

will stare in private. just generally zone out and stare at you- don’t say anything tho!!! bc otherwise he’ll get all huffy and “what the hell are you even makin’ that stupid shit up for! I’d never be caught dead starin’ at an idiot like you” - all said while still simultaneously staring at you.

tries to impress you. like if other people are around that he think u might like, he’ll challenge them to like weird physical feats or intelligence tests or he even somehow turns telling jokes into a competition??? and he’s so competitive it’s obvious too, but u can’t say anything about it. just let him express his love through borderline violence and victory lust ig bc there’s pretty much no stopping him

will cook food for you. don’t comment on how good it tastes tho bc for some reason he finds how much he wants to take care of u majORLY embarrassing

being physically affectionate. man’s almost never grows the balls to initiate hugs or hand-holding or cuddling bc he finds it mega embarrassing to be needy so if he does?? and then you make a joke like “oh, you’re so clingy today, huh” ?? man’s will throw u away from him and never touch u again unless u ask, so just don’t say anything. pleASE

remembering small details. Bakugou’s actually pretty smart and if he likes u then he actually listens to what you have to say,,, this means he’ll remember 3 weeks ago when u said u had a test that day, and ask u about it when he sees u- don’t say any “oh! im suprised u remembered!’ or anything tho,, he’ll get huffy

-and finally, here is a lil list, as a bonus just for u my love, of normal person behaviors that you do that ??somehow?? embarrass immature and emotionally-stunted bakugou katsuki:))

If he sees you do anything embarrassing like trip, or drop food on yourself, or swallow a drink the wrong way and end up coughing, etc.,, if it was literally anyone else Bakugou would just laugh, loudly, bc he’s an ass,, but ur not just anyone else. ur his s/o and suddenly seeing you do that stuff feels so intimate!! esp bc he would’ve never even seen if in the first place if he wasnt paying so much attention to u!!!

saying hi to him first when he’s with other people. like, example, lets say he’s with the bakusquad and they’re just all just hanging out in the common room, right,, so u walk in, see them all sitting there and wave, but u say “Hi bakugou, hi guys!” just bc u were excited to see him. man’s will go rED SO FAST AND HIDE HIS FACE

bending down to tie your shoes. no explanation needed- he’s a guy.

if you go to the store and ask him if he needs anything. it’s literally so simple but for some reason his heart just seizes?? like?? ur thinking about him the same way he thinks about u all the time???? and ur concerned enough to get him something if he needs it??? please he’s goNe, just a whole-ass pile of blushing

if you’re sitting in a group and you look at him everytime something funny is said. bc ofc he’s already going to be looking at u to see ur reaction, so when ur eyes meet and you’re laughing and smiling bakugou just gets so flustered!!!

wearing an outfit he knows nobody else has seen before. this could be new clothes, his clothes, pajamas, old clothes u wouldn’t wear in public, even halloween costumes before a party???- point is, if Bakugou knows nobody else has seen you like that, and only he gets to?? boy is sO SOFT and embarrassed about it

tysm again!! this was such a fun ask!!!! <333

#bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou hcs

155 notes · View notes

lemonpeter · 4 years

Text

Desperate

@preciouspeterbparker is an enabler 💕 and I love her for it. She sent me a concept for my au I’d explained a little while before and I was OBSESSED, so I’m sure hoping I did it justice 💕

Warnings: the whole thing is extremely nff, a/b/o, both alpha and omega Peter (I explain it here), alpha Tony, very brief bottom Tony (like one paragraph right at the beginning and Peter thinking about it), s*x toy use god I hope this shows up in the tags

@serrabloodsong

————

“Come on, baby, give it to me,” Tony panted, pressing his hips back until they were flush against Peter’s.

Peter groaned, holding onto his alpha’s hips as he kept fucking forward. He’d never felt anything so incredible, addicted to the vice-like grip of Tony’s ass. It was tight and slick and so different than the stimulation he got from just being fucked.

“I’m so close, Tony.” A soft whine escaped his throat as his hips lost their rhythm. He could feel the tension in his belly about to snap as he approached his high.

His eyes snapped open as soon as he finished, a weak moan leaving him. His hips stuttered forward as he spilled across the pillow that was tucked between his legs. His hand dropped between his legs to squeeze at his knot, now fully grown, the sensation causing his body to jolt and another spurt of cum to leak onto the pillow.

Once he had completely ridden out his high, he went lax against the bed. He was slightly sore from the amount of tension his body had held, but he’d heal. He was more concerned about the dream.

It was the fifth one that week.

Sure, it wasn’t abnormal for him to have wet dreams. Even with all the sex he had, his drive was so high that he was often waking up to slick-soaked sheets and a bit of a wet patch on the blanket.

No, the concerning part was how he was on top in every dream. And how he woke up with a popped knot.

He was a genetic miracle, having presented with characteristics of both an alpha and omega. But since he was primarily omega, it was extremely rare for him to knot anything, or even have the urge to. He always bottomed with Tony and that made him happy. He didn’t need anything else.

But his alpha side seemed to want to be brought to light suddenly. He’d been dreaming about fucking his alpha, something he’d never seriously considered before. And he woke up every morning with his knot buried in a pillow he’d been fucking unconsciously.

He didn’t know what to do.

There was no way that he could ask Tony about anything like that. For the most part they ignored his differences, especially during sex. As far as either of them were concerned he was strictly omega during those times. So it would have been odd to bring up the alpha bottoming occasionally.

And there was also the issue of pain. Alphas weren’t designed to take a knot. And it was pretty impossible without a ton of prep, which Peter was fairly sure neither of them completely knew what to do. There was no way he would hurt Tony ever. So he figured it was best to just...leave it.

Which worked...for about a week.

He kept having the dreams, but luckily Tony left for work before Peter got up, so he never saw his partner’s predicament. Peter let himself ride out the high every morning and then hid the evidence by quickly tossing everything into the washer.

It was easy enough to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He dealt with it first thing in the morning and then got on with his day.

But then the thoughts started bleeding into his conscious mind.

He’d eat lunch with Tony when he had a break and find himself fantasizing about what it would be like to have the alpha bent over the table for him. His mind would conjure up images of Tony’s body eagerly taking his cock. Then his knot after.

Peter imagined watching in fascination and pride as his cum dripped from the alpha’s puffy hole after they were done.

His cheeks burned as the alpha brought up how distracted he seemed. “What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about...class.” Like his daily physics work would cause him to space out and drool like that.

But Tony didn’t argue, just shrugging off the answer with an, “Alright, honey.”

The excuses and zoning out were becoming all too common for Peter.

He knew that he needed to find a solution. It wasn’t going to work if he kept up how he was going.

Since he was the only person with his condition (that he was aware of), it wasn’t like he could just hop on Google and look up a solution to his highly specific problem. But maybe he could figure out smaller questions and find solutions for those instead of the big picture.

And that was how he found himself in front of his computer, staring at the search bar. In incognito mode, of course. He wouldn’t be able to look Tony in the eye if these searches were discovered.

He wasn’t quite sure where to start. The entire thing felt a bit overwhelming to him, especially since he couldn’t just find an answer for the entire thing. He had to break it up and he didn’t quite know how to.

So he tried to start simple.

‘alpha wet dream fix’

The only results he got there were articles about why wet dreams happen and instructing to just have more sexual release in the day to day life. Which he already got, he knew that wasn’t the issue.

On to the next search.

‘male omega want to top’

All that came up was porn. Pages and pages of porn.

He clicked on one link, heart pounding as he watched the small omega in the video fucking his alpha hard and fast. The alpha encouraged him the whole time, spouting words of encouragement in between sounds of obvious pleasure.

It was incredibly hot. But not exactly what he was looking for.

‘Knotting in sleep’

He got more porn, somnophilia this time. He tried to reword his search, looking into ‘alpha alone sleep knotting’.

Some more porn, but then he thought maybe he saw a search that could be helpful. His eyes skimmed over the article after he clicked on it.

“‘Sometimes an alpha will involuntarily knot during sleep, most often...if they haven’t had stimulation regularly.’” Peter read out loud, fingers tapping against his temple.

He didn’t get it. Well, he got it. But it didn’t make any sense.

He hadn’t done anything but bottom for years. And he was completely okay with it. The alpha urges hadn’t been there.

But suddenly they were. And he absolutely couldn’t figure out why.

His fingers drummed against his desk as he tried to figure out what to do next. Of course, he didn’t figure that there was any way he’d get a straight answer for what was going on with him. It was just like everything else in his life, a lot of questions with no real answers.

His eyes drifted over the search results again and he hummed as he reached the ‘also asked’ questions.

“‘How can a single alpha safely knot?’” He read off, clicking to expand the tab until the associated link came up. He clicked it as well, eyebrows raised.

There wasn’t much he actually knew about the alpha biology. Even after presenting, he figured it wouldn’t matter since he was mainly omega anyways. It had never occurred to him that maybe knotting outside of a confined environment wouldn’t be safe.

Reading over the Q&A the link brought him to, he realized that he was lucky he hadn’t been hurt by his nightly activities. Even if none of it had been on purpose.

Luckily, he was also supplied with solutions.

“A toy?” Peter mumbled. The only toy he’d ever owned was a dildo with a fake knot on it. And as far as he knew Tony didn’t own anything like what he was seeing in the pictures.

But he didn’t have another choice, really. The sleeve would provide him with a chance to test out knotting on his own and was a safe way to do it.

So he clicked over to another tab, looking up alpha-specific sex toys. And there were...a lot of results.

The alpha part of his brain seemed to switch on, immediately thinking of how each toy would feel on him and which would be best. He scrolled through pages, flipped between stores, all to end up ordering just one. A basic fleshlight that he hoped would do the job. It claimed to be for knotting as well, so he had hope that it would be good.

As he added a few different types of synthetic slick to his cart, he prayed that Tony didn’t look too closely at how he was spending money. But he knew it was all going to come out to a decent sum.

He’d deal with that when he came to it.

After confirming all of the orders, he stood up from the desk and headed back to the bedroom. He grabbed his tablet on the way, determined to continue his research. There had to be some explanation for his sudden urges.

He just had to put in the effort to figure out what it was.

***

Despite how he’d read it was dangerous, his body refused to stop its morning wake up call of an unbelievable orgasm and a fully swollen knot.

He still seemed safe, so he didn’t stress about it too much. It just gave him a bit more pause every time it happened.

And the stimulation felt so good, he couldn’t help but want it to continue on some level. But as always, the knot shrunk again once he had come down from his high and he couldn’t seem to figure out a way to get it back. The only time he was able to knot was from those dreams, his intense fantasies of fucking his alpha.

Great.

His mind was almost constantly on the concept now. He couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard he tried. All of his daydreams became about topping Tony in various positions and locations. Then the daydreams snuck into his normal thoughts again. And every moment felt like one long daydream.

Only his alpha wasn’t really part of any of it, since Peter still hadn’t told him. And he didn’t plan on doing so.

It definitely made things harder. But he didn’t want to freak Tony out by revealing how needy his alpha side was getting or make him feel guilty for not wanting to bottom.

He could take care of himself. That would be alright.

***

“Pete, a package came for you,” Tony called, getting ready to leave back for work after his lunch break. “Friday just informed me that it’s at the front desk downstairs, so you can go get that.” He didn’t ask what it was, too preoccupied by thoughts of work and all he had to get done.

Which was perfectly fine with Peter.

He looked up as Tony talked, eyes widening slightly. It had to have been his toy (and the other things purchased with it.) He didn’t have a habit of purchasing much, so it had to be that if it came specifically for him.

As soon as the alpha had left, he raced downstairs to get the package. And he was ripping into the box without shame instantly when he was upstairs again.

He so badly wanted to try it out. He was desperate to knot, needing to feel how good things could be.

Peter looked over the toy, almost fascinated as he studied it. It was just like it had been in the picture, a smooth plastic body covering a soft silicone sleeve. The entrance looked almost disturbingly like his own pussy, soft pink-flushed lips spread slightly around a small hole.

He could feel himself slicking just from looking at it. And his cock was getting interested as well, slowly starting to chub up in his soft sweatpants.

There was no way he wanted to wait any longer. He was desperate to knot, his alpha side frustrated but calming gradually at the promise of knotting the toy. So he tossed the box in the trash, gathered the lube, and carried everything to the bedroom.

Once he was there, he set everything on the bed while he slowly stripped. His boxers were tossed into the hamper, already soaked through with slick. He was so easily worked up it was almost embarrassing.

But he didn’t dwell on it, sitting on the bed once he was completely bare. The bottles of lube sat next to the sleeve, seemingly begging to be picked up.

He grabbed one, reading the label. It claimed to be the best in the business, bragging about its slide. And that was good enough for Peter. He tore the packaging off and clicked the top open.

While he poured the liquid over his fingers, he looked at the toy again. “How am I doing this?” He wondered out loud, picking it up with his clean hand.

He got an idea, sliding his wet fingers over the lips of the entrance. And his cock gave a twitch as he looked at it.

It looked good, but he knew just a little lube wouldn’t be enough. So he grabbed the bottle again, pouring some of the fake slick directly into the sleeve.

And oh, it looked incredible.

It was a vulgar sight, slick dripping from the pussy. And he couldn’t wait to fuck it.

He set the bottle of lube to the side, laying on his back as he figured out what he was going to do. It seemed like a good start to just...fuck up into the toy while lying on his back. It would be a comfortable enough position to lay in when- well, if he knotted it. But he was pretty sure he’d be able to.

His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it a couple times before letting go again. He was definitely hard, erection laying heavy against his belly. But his knot stayed small, barely visible at the base.

He knew that would change soon.

He held onto his cock, positioning the toy just above it in order to start.

When he slowly started sinking the sleeve over him, he wondered why he hadn’t considered getting one sooner. It was so tight and wet and-

Completely overwhelming.

The toy was only halfway down his cock before his muscles were tensing and he was spilling into it. Just like that. No buildup, no knot, not even any actual fucking.

“Fuck, oh- shit,” he breathed, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Thank god no one was there to see him. He’d just cum like a virgin, despite being nowhere close.

Although...technically he was one when it came to topping. He hadn’t thought about that.

He pulled the sleeve off again, face still bright red. “I...wow. I didn’t expect that,” he whispered into the silent room.

The first try definitely hadn’t gone how he expected it to. But he was reminded that he had an incredibly short recovery period. Evident from how his cock had never gone fully soft and was already beginning to fill out again.

So he didn’t waste any time before he was slipping the toy onto him again, making sure to take a long pause to make sure he was under control before moving it any.

He came embarrassingly fast a few more times before he was able to actually start fucking it. And every single time his knot stayed uninvolved. No matter how good it felt to fuck into the faux pussy, he would have an incredible orgasm but his knot refused to grow.

He was lost in the pleasure and frustration as he kept going, continuing to work himself up and fuck the toy. It lasted longer every time, although he lost count of the rounds he’d done.

Probably somewhere around...five? Six? He had no idea. The first few had been so short they barely counted in his mind.

But he was finally in the best one, it felt like. It was lasting longer than the rest and if he focused hard enough it was like he could feel a faint tingling in his knot.

His high was approaching quickly and he knew it, nearly praying that his knot would finally pop this time.

But he got distracted for just a moment when he heard something.

Peter froze momentarily as he heard the bedroom door creaking open, but he didn’t keep still for long. Even if he had been caught, he needed to cum. Obviously he’d been found out anyways, he might as well finish what he was doing.

How was Tony home already? It had only been…

He glanced to the alarm clock quickly, groaning as he saw the time. He’d been going for hours. How had he fucked the day away like that?

And it was, indeed, time for Tony to be home.

“Honey?” The alpha asked curiously, stepping inside the room and looking right at the bed. He raised his eyebrows as he noticed what he was looking at, however. The sight before him definitely wasn’t what he’d expected.

Peter looked at him, a guilty look flashing over his face briefly before changing to one of pleasure again. “Tony,” he moaned. “I- oh, fuck, please.”

Tony didn’t know what he was begging for. Or maybe he did, but he was too stunned to figure it out. “Peter….” He’d never seen his partner like this.

But he didn’t hate it.

He watched how Peter’s hips kept thrusting frantically, fucking into a toy so quickly his motions were little more than a blur. And his words were flooding out before he could even think about it. “That’s it, baby. Come on, you can do it. You need to cum? Go ahead, baby. You’re doing so well.”

A choked moan pulled itself from Peter’s throat at the encouragement. And it was just what he needed to reach another high.

He twitched forward, grinding against the toy as he spilled into it. Cum dripped out of the sides, his loads still nearly full even after his fucking-marathon. “Fuck, Tony,” he whimpered, chest heaving with his breaths.

He hadn’t wanted to tell his alpha what was going on with him. But the look in Tony’s eyes made him think that maybe it would have been okay.

In his panic and high he hadn’t even initially noticed that he still hadn’t popped his knot. But he realized it once he was immediately able to pull out of the toy to move closer to the alpha who was still standing at the door.

“Tony, I can explain,” he said weakly.

The alpha held up a hand, making the other man whimper. But he quickly elaborated. “You don’t have to. We can talk later. For now...that looked amazing, baby. Did you have fun?”

Peter started nodding, but ended up whining softly.

Tony moved to the bed, looking at the toy. It shouldn’t have looked as appealing as it did to him. It wasn’t much, just smooth plastic and then soft silicone in a flesh tone that looked vaguely like an omega’s pussy. But what made it was the obscene amount of cum leaking from it. And the knowledge that all of it had come from his darling partner. “Certainly looks like you had fun,” he mused.

“I did...just…” Peter sighed, dropping his eyes to look at his cock. It was half-hard still, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. His eyes were on the slight bump at the base that stayed small despite how hard he was trying to make it swell. “Oh, Tony.” He sighed again, the sound heavier this time.

“Talk to me,” the alpha encouraged, moving to sit down on the bed. “What’s up? Wasn’t it...fulfilling?”

A weak laugh was pulled from the younger man. “Not exactly.” He crawled to the alpha, leaning against him. “I know you said I don’t have to explain, but I do.” He took a deep breath.

Tony nodded, watching him intently. “Okay.”

“You know how I’m...mixed up. Both omega and alpha.”

“Of course.” They didn’t talk about it much, but that didn’t mean that he’d forgotten. He would have been a pretty bad partner if he forgot about something like that.

“Well, I’ve always felt more omega. You know that. That hasn’t changed. But lately things have been...weird,” he said slowly.

“Okay...weird how?”

Peter looked down again. “I’ve been having these...dreams.” Oh, Tony was going to hate him. Shame him. Or something.

“Alright...dreams, weird, I’m following.”

“I keep dreaming about being on top. Uh, giving. During sex.” His cheeks burned. No matter how long he was sexually active, no matter how much they did, he’d always get flustered somehow. “And a big thing in the dreams is...knotting you.”

Tony nodded, not taking his eyes off of his partner. “And is that something you want?”

“No! I mean…yes? I don’t know. I’ve always been happy with the way we did things. And I’m still happy with it. I just.” He made a frustrated noise. “I feel like something is missing. Especially since I keep waking up with a popped knot but I can’t seem to get it any other time.”

“So that’s the reason for the toy,” the alpha murmured, looking at it. “And you haven’t been able to knot it?”

“No,” Peter whined. “I’ve been at it all day. It feels good, but there’s just something missing. I want to knot it.”

“You want to knot it or you want to knot me?” Tony asked, watching him. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he waited for an answer, eyes trailing over his partner’s body.

Peter wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Sure, in his dreams he was on top. The one in control. But he didn’t really want that. He liked the way that he and Tony did things, with the full-alpha on top. Peter liked receiving. He just wanted to knot, no matter how he needed to do it. “The...the toy. I think.”

Tony nodded, picking it up. His fingers swiped over the entrance of it quickly, gathering up a bit of the cum that had leaked out. He pressed his fingers to Peter’s lips, smirking slightly as the young man shivered before taking the digits into his mouth. “In that case, I have a proposal. You want to hear it?”

Peter nodded, still suckling on the fingers gently.

“Okay. Well, you said you’re happy with how we do things, right? So I say we keep doing them. But you can try something new.” He held up the toy again, watching Peter’s reactions. “I’ll fuck you like normal. And you can fuck this. And we can see if that changes anything.”

The younger man moaned around Tony’s fingers, nodding. He hadn’t thought of that, but it sounded wonderful.

Tony grinned at him, slowly pulling his fingers away. “In that case, do you think you have one more round in you, honey?” His hand dipped between his partner’s legs, fingers finding his entrance and spreading the lips slightly. “You’re absolutely soaked, baby. You’ve been neglecting this pretty pussy, haven’t you?” He clicked his tongue. “I’ll have to change that.”

Peter moaned again, clenching down around nothing as he felt the tips of the alpha’s fingers tracing his entrance. “Please. I want this, please. I can go one more time.” He was tired, but he was determined he could do this.

“Okay, baby. Let’s figure out how we need to do this.”

Tony hummed softly, pulling away just to assess the situation. There were a couple ways that he figured things would work out, but only one really stood out to him.

“Let’s see if this will work,” he mused. “Lay on your back, Pete.” He watched as the man did as he asked, nodding. “Good boy. Now….” he moved between his legs, positioning himself like he was going to fuck him. “Does this seem alright?”

Peter nodded quickly, breathing hard. He looked being able to watch his alpha while he was fucked. It was one of his favorite positions. But…

Before Peter could voice his concerns, Tony was grabbing the fleshlight and putting it in his hands. “So while I fuck you, you can fuck up into this. Sound okay?”

His cheeks burned as he took the toy, but he nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Perfect,” Tony murmured. “Now, want to get started?”

They both couldn’t wait any longer.

Peter nodded, the tip of his cock rubbing against the already-slick entrance of the toy. There was still cum from his previous play dripping out, but he made no move to clean it up. He figured that it would only help.

Tony hummed, looking over him. He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock. No extra stimulation needed, just watching and talking to Peter was enough. Plus the promise of what was about to happen.

“Wow,” Peter whispered, eyes wide. He never got over Tony’s size. And he knew from experience how good all of it felt. He couldn’t wait to take it again.

“I’m sure you’re already wet enough, honey,” the alpha mused, his fingers sliding against Peter’s entrance once more. “I know you need to be filled….” he pushed two fingers inside up to the second knuckle. “So open for me already.”

Peter cried out, clenching down around the fingers. “Please, Tony. I need- fuck, I need you to fuck me already.” He didn’t want to be teased and fingered slowly. He wanted to get to the main event.

“Needy thing,” Tony commented, pulling his fingers out quickly. “But I’ll give you what you want. Just don’t forget that you’re supposed to be fucking that while I’m fucking you.” He tapped the toy.

“Of course,” Peter told him, the tip of his cock still poised to push into it as soon as things started.

“Okay, good boy,” the alpha praised gently. He rubbed the tip of his cock against Peter’s hole, watching how it fluttered in anticipation of what was to come.

He just couldn’t help himself.

He started pushing in slowly, a low groan building in his chest. No matter how much they had sex, Peter was always so perfectly tight. It was incredible every single time.

And at the same time, Peter sunk the toy onto his own cock with a moan. The dual sensations were incredible, better than he ever could have imagined. He felt Tony filling his pussy while his toy squeezed around him deliciously.

Just the initial feeling was almost enough to push him to the edge again. But he managed to calm himself down.

Tony took a shaky breath, taking a moment to get used to the tightness around his cock. It was intense, Peter obviously had only been focusing on his own cock. So his pussy was still incredibly tight, and constantly clenching down as he got used to the different sensations.

The alpha was pretty sure that neither of them would be lasting very long. But he knew it wouldn’t bother him. And it probably wouldn’t bother Peter either.

“Ready for me to move?” He asked gently, holding onto his partner’s hips carefully. He saw the look on Peter’s face and laughed softly. “Oh, I know. I mean, I can only imagine how intense things are for you. But they feel extra intense today even just like this.”

Peter smiled a little, nodding. He looked so fucked out already. “Yeah. I’m ready, alpha.”

Tony began moving his hips, just slowly at first. He didn’t want to completely overwhelm either of them. “Tell me how it feels, baby. Fucking your little toy pussy while I fuck you.”

“It-it feels really good,” the younger man whispered. That was a severe understatement, but he found it hard to form words. His hips thrust up into the toy as Tony fucked into him at the same time. Everything was sensitive and pleasurable and perfect.

“Just good?”

Peter whined. “It’s amazing, but- oh, god,” he moaned. His eyes rolled back as Tony started moving faster already. “I’ve never felt so…so good.”

Tony hummed, biting his lip as he kept his thrusts at an even pace. “Really? Hmm, let’s see if we can make it even better….”

“Wha- oh, fuck!” Peter groaned, hips jerking faster as he felt Tony’s fingers brushing over his left nipple. His nipples were always extra sensitive, but adding it to everything he was already feeling was intense. “Don’t!”

“Don’t? You want me to stop?” The alpha grinned at him, moving his hand lower again to rest on his hip. He moaned softly as he watched his partner fuck faster into the toy.

“Just stop that,” Peter instructed. “I don’t- god, don’t want to cum too fast. And it’s already...I already feel….”

Tony hummed, nodding. He couldn’t deny that he already felt the distinct pressure building as well. “It’s okay, baby. But I’ll stop.” Both of his hands stayed on Peter’s hips.

“Thank you.” Peter held onto the sheets with one hand, the other working to quickly slide the sleeve over his cock as he fucked it. His grip tightened on both things and he felt the plastic creaking under his fingertips.

They kept going, bodies in sync. Tony gazed down at his partner, eyes occasionally dropping down to watch everything else going on. But he loved to just watch the pleasured faces that Peter made.

And the other man was feeling nothing but pleasure. He’d held out as long as he possibly could and knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold off the high that was building. “Tony….” He moaned, movement becoming jerkier and less measured. “I’m- fuck, I’m gonna cum, alpha!”

“Then cum for me, baby, let go. This will be the best one,” Tony encouraged, not stopping his movements. He knew that he wasn’t far behind at all.

Peter whimpered, hardly doing anything more than just humping up into the toy now. But- “Tony! Fuck, yes,” he moaned louder, watching as his knot swelled rapidly.

Exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He thrust weakly, forcing his knot into the tight sleeve and he was done. His vision whited out as he came, hips bucking wildly. “Tony!” He cried out, tears leaking from his eyes at the intensity of his orgasm. And it seemed to last forever, the tightness of the toy milking his knot in a way he didn’t know was possible.

His vision blurred again and then he was out, going limp against the bed.

“Shit,” Tony swore, immediately pulling out despite how incredibly close he was. He wouldn’t continue anything without knowing Peter was okay.

It took only a few seconds for him to rouse again, blinking dazedly. “Did I just- oh my god.” He covered his face with one hand. “Please tell me that didn’t just happen.

Tony still looked a little concerned, but laughed weakly. “Which part? God, baby, that must have been good.”

“It was amazing.” And he was still riding out aftershocks. “But...that was embarrassing,” he mumbled. Then he noticed that Tony was no longer inside him and looked painfully hard. “Alpha! I didn’t mean to make you stop.” He wiggled slightly. “It’s okay, I’m okay now. Keep going.”

The alpha chuckled a little, more relaxed. “You’re something else, you know that?” He repositioned himself properly again, tip pressed against Peter’s now-loose pussy. “You’re sure?”

“So sure.”

Peter had gotten what he’d wanted. So he’d be happy to help his alpha.

He finally popped his knot, feeling more fulfilled than he had since the dreams started. And he’d been able to be with Tony to make it happen.

They’d have to do that more often. Although he was sure that neither of them would complain.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #alpha/omega Peter #I still don’t have an actual au title thing for it yet #but yeah #tw a/b/o #nff #alpha tony stark #someone let me know if i need to add more

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nonbinaryeye · 3 years

Text

Rainy Evening

Written for @lonelyeyesweek

Day 4 - Humanity

When Peter comes home he finds his husband engaging in highly suspicious activity. Does he see well or is Elias really... resting?

Read on AO3

…

Elias Bouchard likes routine. All of his days play out by the same script. It could be summed up shortly as spending the day running his institute and spending the evening by Watching. It could be described in great detail as every task, even as little as a cup of coffee is tied to a concrete time.

There are not many things that could make him interrupt it. Usually only his Archivist keeps ruining his day. Even on occasions he happens to be married his routine stays almost unchanged (yet Peter complains he pays him way too much attention anyway.)

Yes, Elias likes familiarity with the same tasks repeated every day. So, even as he is leaving Institute precisely at five o’clock he is already planning his time of rest. First he will make himself a cup of coffee. Then he will dive into the bath. He will Look how Gertrude is doing on her trip to Pu Songling Research Centre. Hopefully he will also manage his skin care routine before his husband returns from whatever he is usually doing the whole day when he happens to stay in London. He smiles and opens his umbrella as the rain finally starts to drop from the cloudy sky which has been hovering over London the whole day.

And he indeed manages to prepare himself a double shot of espresso but then he makes the mistake of sitting on a couch. It should have been just a quick rest to drink his coffee but the cushion seems even more comfortable than usual. Also there is a warm blanket lying right next to him from two days ago when he threw Peter out of their bedroom because he was snoring too loudly.

So what if he postpones his plans just for a minute or two as the rain keeps knocking on his windows and instead of Watching he decides to let his eyes rest.

He is half asleep when a sound of keys in the lock brings him back to reality. It takes the intruder too many tries before he finally finds the one that fits and he manages to open the door. Elias does not bother to Look nor look nor open his eyes all together. If the inability to remember the key to his house is not a clear giveaway he is still able to recognize Peter by footsteps – much louder than one would expect from the servant of the Lonely.

“Good evening my dearest voyeur; what are you watching tonight?” Peter announces himself as always way too cheerfully. He is asking him that every time and most of them Elias does not bother to answer as he would usually be preoccupied with Watching his Archivist, some other employee or even spy on servants of other entities.

“I thought I have already told you I am not very fond of your attempts to use endearment.” Elias turns his gaze towards his husband – both his coat and hair soaking wet as he has been avoiding society enough to never learn about umbrellas. He seems to be caught off guard for a second as he did not expect to get any answer. Unfortunately he regains his ‘wits’ very quickly.

“Oh but why, I wonder, oh, siren of my sea, light in my lighthouse, seashell on my beach, barnacle on my ship…”

Elias rolls his eyes. This is not even worthy of his answer. He rather waves at his tiny cup. “Be useful and make me one more cup of coffee.”

“No one interesting to stalk tonight?” Peter inquires and it is the closest he can get to ask his husband whether he is alright since it is very strange to find him just relaxing.

“Maybe I am just already done with watching. Do you wish to hear about it, husband dear?”

“Depends whether you want the coffee now or in a few months after I return recovering from all the unwanted information…”

Elias for once is not in a mood for their bickering so he only shrugs and rolls more into the blanket. For lack of other things to do now Peter picks up his cup and heads to the kitchen where the coffeemaker is. The silence in the flat misses its usual tension and is surprisingly comfortable.

“Here you go.” Peter puts in front of Elias his fourth attempt (not that Peter would ever admit that) which almost looks drinkable.

“Took you long enough.” Elias takes a sip. It tastes acceptable.

“No words of thanks?

“I would offer a kiss but I do not want you anywhere close. You are cold.” Peter is incredibly easy to manipulate sometimes. There is no more certain way to make him do something than request the exact opposite of him. Elias does not even finish a sentence and his husband is already next to him pulling him into a hug and trying to get his share of the blanket.

Then again maybe his husband might know very well what he is doing and just taking the offered excuse. Elias chooses not to think about it too much. He rather puts some effort into his scheme in the form of a very light push against Peter. He naturally hugs him even tighter. He is a bit too cold for his taste actually…

“Is your body giving up and dying again? Or are you getting that old that you forgot your own schedule?”

“I am fine Peter. It’s just the weather probably. You don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Peter scoffs and Elias smiles, closing his eyes. He is not completely done seeing yet. He cannot help himself but Look through one of the paintings on the wall curious what facial expression Peter has. He is not surprised to witness one of his soft looks. They are not as rare as his husband would claim. Then again Elias himself has not realized he is smiling till now. Cuddled together like this they cut quite a lovely image of domestic bliss…

He closes his Eyes as well. The rain is still dripping on the windows and Peter finally pulls him for his promised kiss. Yes this all feels so awfully and unnaturally human for them. But maybe a glimpse of humanity once in a while will not kill them…

#another illegal soft lonelyeyes #moment of piece they don't really even deserve #tma #tma fanfic #magnus archives fanfic #elias bouchard #peter lukas #lonelyeyes #lonely eyes #peterelias #lonelyeyesweek #lonelyeyesweek2021 #mEye fanfic #mEye post

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undercooked-ravioloni · 4 years

Text

— milestone special || hoodie x reader

hi bbies <3

i promised you a little fic using the “100 smut dialogue prompts” list, so here we are. i hope i did a good job delivering jdewhd enjoy

@creepy-bi-day, @freaky-farfalle, @the-acolytes-collection, @fekst-fucker @the-not-so-wise-sage [sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged hhh]

prompt 1: "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you."

prompt 2: "You don't have to be gentle with me, I don't break easily."

[warning] hoodie, long-ass essay fic, sum badly-written action ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

The whole way to the checkpoint, you could feel Hoodie’s eyes on you as he filled in your steps in the muddy terrain. A few times, you swayed your hips teasingly, turning your head ever-so-slightly so to spare him a view of the slightest of smirks on your lips before turning to face Toby’s back again. You’d occasionally feel Hoodie reply to your teasing with the ghost of a touch travelling up your arm which made you all the more eager to get payback.

The four of you - three proxies and yourself - single filed past the dense treeline until Masky came to a stop at a small clearing. He dropped the bag onto the ground. Toby eagerly began to unzip it and pass out the equipment: masks, guns and ammo. You weighed your weapon in your hands before glancing at your boyfriend. His eyes went up to meet yours as he took his gun from Toby. He pulled his mask over his face, a few strands of hair sticking out in odd angles from under his hood. You grinned, walking over to him. As your hand travelled up to fix up his hair, he leaned in.

“You better tell me you’ll have more protection on when we actually give this a go.”

“Oh come on. If you guys don’t wear any then I won’t either. I’m no coward. Plus, it’s only fair.” You mumbled back. Hoodie put a hand on your waist, thumb gently rubbing circles on the fabric of your jacket.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? We could really hurt you.”

Your palm came into contact with his forehead, giving it a small shove in annoyance. His head tilted back and you could hear him huff through his nose.

“You don't have to be so gentle with me, I don't break easily,” You said, rolling your eyes. He eyed you and leaned in to press his forehead against yours.

“Mm, careful what you wish for, baby.”

“This baby’s tougher than you think,” You grinned. “Trust me. I got this. And if I get hurt, you get to carry me, you lucky boyfriend, you.”

He smiled slightly at your words.

“Then this is permission to go all out on you? I won’t hold back.”

His warning only made your grin widen.

“I’d want it no other way~”

You leaned in to kiss him, hand slowly trailing down his chest but you got interrupted by Masky clearing his throat loudly. You both turned your head to the man in the tan jacket who stood there, with arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

“If you two are done grossing us out, we’d like to get started.”

You patted Hoodie’s chest and pulled away, pushing your own mask down over your face.

“Yes Masky sir!”

The proxy groaned in response and gestured for everyone to get closer. Holding out his arm, he pointed at the watch on his wrist.

“You’ll get 30 seconds of a head start. When this time’s up, it’s free-for-all, no mercy. No breaks until you’re dead. Got it?” Hoodie, Toby and you nodded in union. “Good. Now, ready, set, go.”

The small group burst into four separate pieces as each person ran back towards the treeline. From the corner of your eye, you watched your boyfriend and the direction he took, making a mental note of it for further down the line.

As you hopped over roots and small bushes, you tried to think of a strategy but the blood rushing through your head, fully charged with adrenaline, made it a bit difficult. Your fingers clenched and unclenched around your weapon in excitement and fright.

You finally opted to perch out on a tree, waiting for prey to come stumbling your way. The foliage provided enough cover and it had enough branches for you to make your way up its trunk without much trouble.

You remained there, gazing over the narrow trail in hopes of catching a glimpse of one of the boys, preferably one in an orange hoodie. You stayed and stayed and then stayed some more, but after what felt like several painful hours later, you decided that maybe it’d be better to try your luck at a more active approach. You tossed your gun onto a patch of grass and quietly climbed down, feet hitting the ground almost soundlessly. A small, proud smile on your lips, you picked up your weapon and started to make your way back towards the clearing. Surely, you had outlasted at least one person. With some luck, the other three had turned on each other.

You crept through the shadows, eyes darting around for any sign of life besides yourself.

By the time you spotted a flash of Masky’s jacket somewhere to your left, it was too late. His shot smacked against a thin branch right next to you, snapping it off clean with the sheer force.

A loud curse rang out before you could stop it and then you were darting, suddenly very aware and terrified of the threat behind you. Seems that between fight or flight, you choose flight. You dodged any obstacles in your way while trying to keep an eye on the enemy that seemed to be closing in on you. You recognized the scenery changing as you got closer to the starting point and between the death wish that was the openness of that terrain and the uncertainty of the woods to your right, you chose to take a sharp turn towards the latter. Now you just had to pray Hoodie wasn’t where he had initially gone off to.

You slowly began to notice that you were putting quite a bit of distance between yourself and Masky, but you didn’t dare stop. A moving target was probably harder to hit anyway so you said your screw-you’s to your stamina and a logical way of approaching the game and decided to keep on with your run. You risked a look over your shoulder and realized the masked man had disappeared. A rustle from the front caught your attention however and another apparition, this time in the form of your boyfriend, stood merely a few feet away from you. He aimed his gun and pulled the trigger.

The shock of the paintball sent you crashing into the ground, your hands flying to your masked face as you hollered. You rolled onto your side, spitting out that god-awful mix and slurring out curse words. You then got to removing your mask, dragging out your groan of pain. Your face felt like it was on fire. The pressure of the shot had etched the mask into your skin with deep red lines, outlined with the dark blue of the paint. You couldn’t even touch it so you rolled side to side on your back and thrashed your legs while your hands hovered over your closed eyes helplessly.

“I hate you!” You shrieked out as your brain started to process the background noises to your suffering - your boyfriend and his friends’ laughter.

“Says th-the first one out.” Toby commented smugly.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Masky chimed in and you could see, in your mind’s eye, the high-five he exchanged with Hoodie.

“You said I had permission to go all out,” Hoodie defended. “No mercy, remember?”

“Shooting me in the damned face from less than ten feet away was not part of that!” You let out another drawn out yell, both from frustration and the soul-sucking burning of your face. Hoodie kneeled next to you, slowly taking one of your hands and you squeezed back as hard as you possibly could in cold-blooded revenge. He huffed softly, a small smile on his lips and he poked the tip of your nose. You swatted his hand away with a frown on your features.

“I’m sorry,” He said softly. “I guess that was a pretty low blow.”

“You think!?”

“Alright, alright,” He gripped your shoulder as he helped you sit up carefully. “You can get me back for that.”

Hand still in his, you tugged on his arm and proceeded to very gently wipe your face on his sleeve. You could hear him inhale, wanting to protest, but he decided to shut his mouth and let you do as you pleased. When you finished, your face was still smeared in blue, but at least it was now on his hoodie too. He tugged slightly at your hand to get you to stand up.

“Oh no,” You pulled back harder. “You’re not getting away so easy.”

Abruptly pulling him to you, you leaned up and pressed your lips against his for the span of a few seconds until he pulled away. You opened your eyes to find him spitting and wiping his mouth.

“You taste filthy.” His face distorted in disgust.

“Thanks to my suck-ass boyfriend.” You commented as you punched his shoulder. He chuckled meekly as he leaned in and started to wipe away the paint from your face with his clean sleeve with all the care he could muster.

“Yeah, well, he’ll carry you home,” He smiled apologetically. “Maybe that’ll help you forgive him just a little bit?”

“Maybe.” You replied vaguely. You tried to offer him a small smile, but quickly stopped when you felt a twinge.

“I’ll make it up to you [Name], promise.”

“Oh Christ. Come on Rogers, they’re at it again.”

You let out a muffled laugh as you got up with Hoodie’s help. He grabbed your weapon off the ground, clicked the safety into place and intertwined his fingers with yours. He started to follow his two colleagues, but not before you jumped on his back and clenched to him.

#yeah no #i don't have a title #also i have never played paintball #oops #this is probably not that good i apologize hh #milestone special #creepypasta #hoodie #hoodie x reader #creepypasta x reader #proxies #x reader #undercooked ravioloni

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teacupwritings · 5 years

Note

im on some weird shit because im crying about mirio so i want a mirio headcanon. mirio with a s/o who super clumsy

Ahh cute! I was waiting for someone to request my sweetest baby boy, he deserves the world so imma make this headcannon as fluffy as I can

- this deleted as soon as i was almost done writing it so I literally cried all over my laptop while writing the ending of this, so pleseeee enjoy!

Also I’m going to call out @jaideite for hating on Mirio and calling him weird, we don’t Stan 🙃 jk don’t attack me with your 1k followers

Characters: Mirio

Request: open duh

MIRIO WITH A CLUMSY S/O

MIRIO TOGATA

++ is genuinely shocked at the amount of times you fall on a daily basis

++ he low-key finds it endearing

++ it takes real skill to choke on air, fall up stairs, and trip over nothing in his opinion

++ have you ever seen one of those shitty cliche teenage romance movies?

++ The ones where the main protagonist was always tripping over their own feet into the love interest’s arms?

++ its literally like they got nothing better to do with their lives smh

++ yeah but those just about sum up your’s and Mirio’s relationship for as long as you guys could remember

++ don’t even get started on the first day you met

++ your first encounter with Mirio was extremely…I mean EXTREMELY awkward

++ it was your first day at UA and you were running late

++ like you most usually were

++ your uniform was unironed and badly tucked in and all that jazz

++ you overall looked like you got into an argument with a homeless man behind a 7/11 dumpster

++ so much for first impressions

++ and it was all because you forgot today was a Monday and not a Saturday so you didn’t set your alarm

++ or maybe that was just the lie you were trying your best to come up with to explain to your teacher why you were late on the first day of school

++ you weren’t too late but you still had to make a stop at your locker

++ so as you were running down the hallway there was an conveniently placed book bag on the floor in the middle of the overly crowded area

++ and you being the oh so graceful person you are managed to trip over said book bag

++ Mirio has always had this sort of hero complex and we all know this

++ so when he saw you about to make a mockery of yourself in front of your soon to be classmates he decided it would be a good idea to swoop in and save the day

++ he activated his quirk and made it as quickly as he could to your aid

++ unfortunately for him he managed to get the lower half of his body stuck in the ground and he lost his pants in the span of five seconds

++ poor baby still didn’t know how to use his quirk

++ cue Tamaki standing in the background dying of second hand embarrassment

++ on the bright side he did catch you sorta and you were fine

++ for the most part

++ minus the fact that you rammed your nose into his perfect forehead and had to spend half of first block in recovery girls office

++ he came to apologize as soon as he could well i mean after he found his clothing

++ “ I really should have planned that one out huh? How are you feeling now?”

++ “ Pretty good.”

++ you really don’t know when to stop running your mouth

++ “ How do YOU feel after half of the school saw your willy on the first day?”

++ “My…What?”

++ “…”

++ sometimes you need to know when enough talking is enough

++ as he got stronger through out his years at UA the two of you became super close he promised himself that he would always catch you if you fall

++ and honestly it was a damn challenge

++ but ever since his quirk began advancing he has always been there for you

++ you found it pretty cute ngl

++ he doesn’t really trust you when it comes to cooking or anything that has to do with the kitchen

++ it seems you forget that things that have been heated up are actually hot

++ like the time you were baking cookies and grabbed the pan with your bare hands

++ of course this ended with you on the brink of tears and Mirio kissing your palms promising it would get better soon

++ don’t even get me started with sharp objects

++ no matter what you could be doing weather it be cooking or arts and crafts you would always manage to unintentionally harm yourself in some sort of way

++ so now Mirio keeps all-might band-aids on him 24/7

++ just in case you can never be too careful

++ sometimes he gets really fed up when the two of you are training

++ he wants you to become as good of a hero as him and you really can’t do that with falling on your face half of the time

++ he is always having these private training sessions with you

++ mainly focusing on your balance and running

++ soon enough he decides pick up lines are beneficial to your relationship

++ “ I guess you couldn’t help but fall for my good looks.” ;)

++ you almost threw up a little

++ “ that one was almost as funny as the last time you told me…the same exact joke.”

++ he was a big dork but you still love him

———— spoilers for bnha season 4

++ when he lost his quirk he still kept his promise to you that he would always catch you when you fell

++ “ you gotta take it easy Mirio your still recovering.”

++ he doesn’t care

++ as long as he could continue to ‘save’ people, you specifically he was happy.

++ even without a quirk

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years

Note

I don't want to bother you and you likely have better prompts to do, but it would be really fun to see Henry have to deal with both Springtrap and ScrapTrap specifically for potential angst purposes on both ends. Some side characters that would make good filler might be Nightmare and - Maybe Mangle?

(“You likely have better prompts to do”- pal, fam, buddy, this blog has like… ten followers and maybe three askers, and I love every single one of them dearly. I try to bring the prompts out on a “one per day” basis, to ensure they won’t get too long and to show I’m still doing it, so if I don’t put one out, you can feel sure there’s nothing left. Also, good on you for asking for these two! I had a realization about how it’s kinda impossible to die to certain people, like Mr. Hippo- especially since I was just having a great time creating a little game-over interaction and then figured out “wait a minute, that won’t happen, he’s 100% fooled by the lure” So instead I’ll adjust depending on what the ask offers. If it’s a matter of “I wonder if he can survive this”/”I wonder who he’ll die to”, I’ll write that out, but if it’s a “I wonder how he’ll react to that character” Just taking up the Dave™, and only playing to see if I die to Scraptrap, seeing as he DID manage to catch me off guard before. (Also Deedee) Yes. I should have put more thought into the mechanics before. And YES. I already thought up way too much lore for this one-off “time in hell” thing. But y’know how it is. You think or you die. I don’t even think of lore, it just pops into my head, that’s why my stories are so disorganized Anyways, ENJOY! I don’t think the torture this time around is so bad, I basically cut away before anything really bad happens)

It was quiet this time around. But Henry wouldn’t be tricked by it. You’d think that only two animatronics being active would make this night a cakewalk, but the fact that he was faced with two animatronics that… were Dave… He wasn’t looking forward to it. Before he had left the office he had been offered to take some “benefits” along, but… he didn’t want to admit to being concerned. Not to mention that it wouldn’t help him. Maybe the Deedee repel- this one however seemed better preserved for later. After the panic she had put him into, it was probably more appropriate to use it when he truly was in over his head. … oh, he would eat those words later, wouldn’t he? … it hardly mattered. What even WAS she? How did she come here? Why could she simply activate machines like this? Perhaps that was what Satan looked like. At this point he wouldn’t even be surprised. With a sigh he quickly raised the tablet, putting on the generator. It would keep him safe from the lights going out, that was well-worth dealing with the headache inducing noise. Out of morbid curiosity he switched from the main control on the tablet to the vents. ‘Click on nodes to set vent snare’. … christ… a snare…? A snare trap…? That was vicious. Probably very effective though… against anyone but Dave. It was Dave in that suit. It always had been Dave in that suit. After all the fruitless attempts trying to get this stupid suit get possessed, Henry had to come to accept that- Dave’s spirit was already inside and it wasn’t willing to share with anyone. The Springbonnie suit COULD probably have walked by itself if Dave would have wanted it- if Dave would have TRIED for it. … there were a lot of things William could have made happened, if he had just TRIED. Trying to get the bitter taste out of his mouth, Henry grimaced, staring at the screen as Dave moved along the vents. To think that this was the man who looked at him with pity, as if he was something weak and- … to think that he had been the only one witnessing his pathetic death. It hurt in a very special way. Hell, he couldn’t even point out how- WHY it was this bad. Was it the humiliation? Or was it the simple fact that he had died this terrible manner and all he could think about when remembering Dave and his- old life. Old life. … was this even the Dave he knew? Was this William? Or was it merely a manifestation of memories and thoughts, pulled right out of his head? Staring at the screen he watched as Dave approached. Surprisingly, he took the long way around. How peculiar. For some reason he had assumed Dave would make a B-line for the vent entrance, but he was approaching from the entirely different side. Was he assuming he could catch him off-guard? Well- either way, he was almost here. Putting down the monitor, Henry peered into the vent in front of him, trying to catch a glance- The whole room started to shake, together with the awfully loud rattling and screeching from the side. For a few seconds blind panic took ahold in his brain, as it always did when heard this damn noise- then he stumbled over and smashed the right side buttons, causing the doors to that side to snap shut. An inhuman scream ripped through the air. It was Henry’s name but sounding so distorted, so filled with SPITE, that he couldn’t even comprehend at the moment- only a few seconds after he heard it, his brain could decipher it. And when it did, he wished it didn’t. If everyone came from a potential different dimension, he didn’t want to know where THIS creature was coming from and why William had turned out like this. Sure, he had a few ideas… none of them were good though. … in none of those scenarios he would have wanted to meet him. Thankfully he had managed- so he opened the doors back up, falling back into his chair. Alright, alright, unless the demon child showed back up, this should now be easy to handle- Looking up he spotted a withered Springbonnie, with bright white eyes staring down at him from the vents. For a few moments both just stared at each other. Then Henry raised an eyebrow. “… is there any way I can help you?” “Aw shucks! Ya saw me! You’ve always been too good at this!” Smiling brightly Dave looked down at him, not moving any closer to the entrance. “… but who was THAT, Henry?” There was something about the question that made the place go quieter. The animatronics seemed generally vaguely aware of each other and their co-existence beyond the confinements of time and space, so- was Dave trying to trick him? For what purpose though? “… I do not know, Dave. I have not seen this creature yet.” A lie. Shifting his vent opening, Dave tilted his head, still grinning. “Ya don’t know? But don’t you know everything?” The words came with a certain edge to them. Or maybe Henry was simply growing more and more paranoid of the being in the vents. “I know… almost everything. There is a difference, Dave. For example… I do not know why you are inside of a suit like this.” “… yeah, that’s a mystery, ain’t it, Henry?” The air was getting worse, the human’s breath was becoming erratic. “… are you okay, Henry?” Crawling forward Dave tried to get in. “If ya need some help-“ Instantly Henry crushed down the vent door, opening his camera system to resetting the ventilation to ensure he could keep breathing- then he put it down again, opening up the vent once more to a now VERY disgruntled seeming Dave. “The fuck was that for! Why did ya lock me out?!” “I had to take care of urgent business.” “I could have helped.” Moving slightly back, the person inside the animatronic hissed. “You’ve always did this, Henry. You’ve always done this to me.” “With good reason.” Snapping, Henry harshly slapped his hands on the office table, showing his teeth. “I was always right about you. You are not getting to threaten me now, William. You are not getting to play innocent in this place. No. William, I know you would do it.” “Do what?” Equally as aggressive, Davetrap snapped back at him. “You would ensure my death.” “That’s ludicrous! You ensured your OWN death! Maybe if ya would have trusted me more and wouldn’t have used me like some sort of- PAWN, maybe then you wouldn’t have been snacked on by a stupid doggo!” “Nonsense!” Henry hissed. “That is not what I am talking about in either case. It did not matter what I did for you, did it? It never mattered. William, you are not capable of loyalty, you are not capable of putting duty over your selfish, petty desires. For a few moments, for a little, yes, but once the urge becomes too strong, you snap back into your animalistic nature. You needed guidance, but you did not care for it. All you cared for was getting what you wanted. And once someone could offer you more than me, you turned on me.” Bitterly Dave scoffed. “Ya think that and there’s no way to change your mind, is there? Never was. Henry, think about it from my perspective for a moment maybe- if you would have treated me like an actual friend, like an actual equal partner, instead of seeing me as an untamed animal that may turn on ya any given second- maybe then I would have not yearned for someone who did.” “You are not getting around this, you are not getting around betraying me, I gave you a LAST chance and you have-“ “No Henry, YOU are not getting around this.” Coldly Dave snapped at him, stopping him from saying anything further, the icy disgust evident in his words. “You think you can turn anything and everything into a game of ‘give some, get some’. You think you can simmer friendships down to a little spreadsheet of what you’re owed and what you give. Frankly, though, you’re good at it, pal. Even with all the animosity you’ve always harbored for me deep inside of ya, you’ve always ensured I’d get my cut and felt treated well. But the thing is, Henry, and I know ya don’t get it, but there’s more to friendship than just the sum of its parts. There’s more to a partnership than a simple dividin’ of responsibility and benefits. The whole time we were together, you were alone in your head. You thought of me as a little add-on. Were you scared of what I’m capable of? Of losing control? Or were you scared of having someone with you in your head? Somethin’ you’d miss if it ever disappeared? Henry, old friend, I wanted to ask you something, ever since your stupid speech- what did you ACTUALLY want?” “What- what do you mean?” Laying inside of the vent, he made a vague gesture. “Your whole… deal. Immortality and stuff. Why? For what?” “I-“ Yet before he could explain himself, William interrupted him again. “No. I’m not askin’ for what you THINK you did it for. I’m askin’ for what you actually did it for. Because ya can ramble on about a utopia all you like, it doesn’t matter for you, does it? Will it fix you? Building a society of immortals… do you think it’s going to stop you from waking up at night, worryin’ someone might come to kill you? That you’ll be able to see people as people and not as props? That you’re gonna get better if you just live long enough? You’re miserable, Henry. You lived your entire life alone, while surrounded by others and you’d hate immortality, unless you truly believe it’ll give you the chance to change.” “You are speaking NONSENSE!” Heated, the Pink Guy raised his voice at him. “I was doing FINE! Hell, even if not, so what!? My wish to finish humanity and give it its full potential was NOT a selfish one. I am NOT miserable, I am NOT lonely, my plans were impeccable and selfless and you-“ “Henry.” It almost sounded soft. “You need help. Let me in.” At that Henry closed the vent, reset the ventilation and slowly balled his fist, trying to remain as calm as possible. Through the door, Dave’s concerningly calm and certain voice sounded, almost completely muffled. “… eventually you’ll let me in, old friend. I know that. You know that. And it actually doesn’t matter what I say! I wouldn’t even need to convince ya. Because you can’t stand the feelin’ of being stuck. Because you’ll try out everything. Now that you’re immortal, you have nothing to reach for- so you will reach for everything.” The clock chimed. Six AM. Henry stumbled to the saferoom. He had to find a way out of this place. Fast.

#henry miller #Henry in hell #Dave Miller

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fahrenheit059 · 3 years

Text

The Lost Dragon Queen

Part 3, Nyx:

Nyx violently wakes up from her sleep, breathing heavily, while gripping her Sword. As she caught her breath, tears silently slid down her cheeks. Every night she had dreamed about the same memory, her parent’s assassination. Nyx felt responsible for their deaths, and in her heart, she wanted to make it up to them. Even if she wasn’t the direct cause of their death, she couldn’t help but think that her very existence was the reason for their demise.

Nyx wiped her face with a towel, and left to change clothes. She opted to wear her usual leather pants, and combat boots. She wore a sleeveless tunic that made her tattoos stand out. Nyx strapped her daggers to her legs and hid two in her boots. She then wore her black trench coat, tightened the buckle, and sheathed her Sword to her back. Nyx looked through the window and convinced herself to go to the town and look for some new books, and a job. Nyx wanted to get a drink and go Pit Brawling.

The château was a few miles away from the town, so it gave Nyx an excuse to stretch out her wings and fly. As Nyx flew around the night sky, she savored the feeling of the wind hitting her face and hair. She felt free. Ever since she was old enough to fly, Nyx and her father would fly around their family’s estate all night. Nyx’s wings were larger than the average female’s, and they weren’t the common feathered wing. Nyx had a pair of large dragon-like scaled wings. When she was younger, Nyx always loved showing off her unique wings. Now, she felt that they were a dark reminder to the bloodshed and pain her family brought.

Nyx landed away from the town so she could have time to use her magic and hide her wings again. Nyx knew what the town’s people thought of her. As she walked through the market and towards the pub, her Fae-ears could hear the whispers from the townspeople saying, “Look, it's the mercenary,” or “Stay away from her, I hear she’s dangerous.” The remarks stopped bothering Nyx a long time ago. Even if she saved a child’s life, or stopped the bandits from robbing the town, the villagers only saw her as a ruthless, unforgiving, and cold-hearted mercenary.

As Nyx walked to the pub, she looked around. Usually, everyone would be running away from the pub or out of the library. On the contrary, more people were running into the pub. When she reached the pub, she realized that more people were lining up to see the Pit Brawlings than usual. Good, perhaps this means there is someone worth fighting for once. As Nyx was handed her drink she spotted two suspicious males sitting in the corner of the pub. They were sitting at her favorite table. The one that was trying to hide his axe was getting up and walking to the Pits. He was carrying an axe longer than normal. It had a longer base, but the blade was elongated and curved. A weapon like that was rare. If someone was lucky enough to find one, they would either have to kill its wielder or pay a large sum of money. Interesting…

As Nyx continued to drink her ale, she felt there was something aloof about the other man, no- male. A Fae male ...how odd. The Fae usually avoid towns such as this. Why in Hell’s name would one come here?

Nyx consumed the rest of her drink and walked towards the Pit's Master. She had to wait for another five rounds before she could get in, but that gave her time to study the other male currently in the Pit.

The man…no also male, in the pit has golden-blonde hair. He isn’t as muscular as the other male, but it was obvious he was carrying more weapons than he was showing. He had a sword equipped to his sword belt but he wasn’t using it. The male was wearing a black cloak but did little to hide his feathered wings, almost as large as Nyx’s.

Nyx watched the attack patterns and the way the mysterious male used his axe. He used the same repeating motions; swing, dodge, parry, hit, repeat. He looked like Death Incarnate, defeating each person with grace, similar to a butterfly flying in the sky. Nyx was entranced by the fight.

Sooner than later, it was Nyx’s turn in the Pit. While they circled each other, Nyx noticed his deep blue eyes that were easy to get lost in. Nyx’s thoughts were interrupted by a push to the sides of the wall. Nyx just realized, she had no way to defeat this, this…. Oh no. Oh hell no, he is an Awoken Daemanti.

The Awoken Daementi were a race similar to the fae, however they were very rare to find. Their physical appearance was the same, pointed ears, elongated caines, and extreme youth. However, they were far more lethal and had the ability to easily deceive a person with magic. Many of the Creatures of the Night attempted to kill them, but only few succeeded and less survived.

“So I guess, your axe gave your … uniqueness away,” Nyx said with a smug smile as she got up, and started to circle the male again.

“You're the one to talk to. You're so smug, but for how long, hm?” He questioned, raising a brow.

Before Nyx could come up with a retort, he was already his axe for her head. She crouched, dogged, circled, flipped, anything to avoid getting hit by the weapon. “Damn it,” Nyx started, as she finally started to draw her Sword, “I was hoping I could take you down the old-fashioned way, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“You call this desperate? For if someone can wield a Buster Sword, you should be able to get me down easily, wimp,” was all he said with a complacent smile.

“How DARE you, oh sh-” Nyx began, as she bent backward to avoid the axe. That stupid weapon was starting to get a little annoying.

Five minutes later, Nyx was still on the defensive. She couldn’t land an attack. Nyx attempted to parry the next attack but was kicked hard in the ribs. She spat out the blood from her mouth, wiped the blood from the cut that now grazed her cheekbone. Her opponent gasped when he saw her black blood drop to the floor. He looked at her with fear. Nyx used that as an opportunity to attack. Circling him, she started to aim towards his head. She misses, but her Sword manages to cut through the shirt he wears, which reveals a tattoo. Nyx looked at it, his axe and his face again. “Gods damn it,” she hissed under her breath realizing he was the Reaper of Souls and a member of the royal family that supposedly left.

Nyx stumbled backward, heavy with exhaustion. The Reaper of Souls continued to attack her once again, and Nyx continued to dodge him. Five more minutes, all she needed was to survive for five more minutes to land her critical blow.

While Nyx was getting bloodied up, she was studying the way the Reaper of Soul was attacking. She noticed that his wings continued to fall in the same direction. He was using it as a shield to protect his lower back. His weak spot.

Nyx let her Sword drag against the floor, as she ran towards him. She was trying to bait him into believing that she was tired, even though she was tired. When she was about to approach, she slid to her right, the same direction the Reaper of Souls’ axe was swinging from. The slide allowed the dust from the Pit to fly into the male’s face, and give Nyx a chance to get behind him. She hit his sciatic nerve in his leg, with the hilt of her Sword, causing the Reaper of Soul to drop forward onto his knees exposing his back.

Nyx hit his lower back with her knee and put him into a rear headlock. “I know who you are, O’ Mighty Reaper of Souls,” Nyx told him, as the male gaped from the pain.

“Then kill me and get your money merc,” He gasped out.

“I don’t want your money,” Nyx began. The Reaper of Souls was trying to get out of her old, but couldn’t. “I know why you … left. I don’t want to kill you, yield and this fight will be done.”

The Reaper of Souls dropped his axe, held his fist out, and yelled to the Pit's Master, “I yield this fight.”

Nyx let him go and climbed out of the Pit. Before she claimed her money, Nyx caught his scent. She gave him a glance and took her money from the Pit’s Master.

Nyx stayed at the pub, watching more of the Pit fights, and drank some more ale. She is trying to collect her thoughts. The Fae actively avoided small towns like this. The Awoken Daemanti in the Pit, was a member of the Royal family, one she had met years ago at a political party. Nyx remembered him as a stuck-up, pompous pretty boy. But, why was the Reaper of Souls, traveling with a Fae? Nyx thought, no knew that the Fae and Awoken Daemanti hated each other because of some idiotic blood rivalry. How peculiar.

After a couple of drinks and rounds in the Pit, Nyx spotted Fae and decided to fight in the Pit. Nyx immediately recognized his fighting style. He wielded a pair of twin blades, and his techniques were similar to the ones that the Prince of the Royal family used. The male was dominant with his right hand, and extremely weak with his left side, but did everything to protect his left flank. This was odd, but something about the male called out to Nyx. It was like some exterior force pushing her to him.

Later that night, when the two males left the pub, Nyx followed them. She wanted to know who they were. Nyx continues to follow them both until she accidentally steps into a puddle. “Bloody hell,” Nyx hissed, as the Fae male turned around to look at Nyx. Panic started to take over, but she tried to keep her cool, sly mask on. The male looked at her dead in the eyes. Nyx studies his face. A gust of wind passes, and it confirms Nyx’s speculations. “You are Prince Raonn Knight, rightful Heir to the throne of the Creatures of Night,” she blurted out without thinking.

The male continues to look at her. He is about to say something, but instead, another gust of wind passes Nyx, causing her hair to blow around. She doesn’t need him to say anything. Nyx already knows what his Fae scenes can scent; her lineage.

Any mask of coolness the two had is gone. The Reaper of Souls, asks, “Cousin, what is going on?”

The Fae does not reply and walks a few steps towards Nyx. “I am Prince Raonn and this is my cousin, Thanatos,” He confirms.

Nyx just nodded, turning around to walk away.

“Wait,” He calls out, “You are the Lost Dragon Queen, Nyx Fahrenheit Reaper-Diablo.”

Raonn’s last sentence stops Nyx like she was struck dead.

#The Lost Dragon Queen #rowan whitethorn #thanatos #nyx talks #carmilla #carmilla of styria #Reaper #diablo #Fae #creative writing #short story

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incarnateirony · 5 years

Text

Representation, Authorial Diversity, and more.

“I’ll take some beef jerky and a pack of menthols.”

Been a while since most of you thought about that line, hasn’t it? And for some of you it somehow sends some primitive lizard brain gaydar into overdrive and you can’t really pinpoint why, can you? It makes no sense, that line alone, and how it stands -- but between all of the talk of both Bobo Berens and LGBT media history, including The Celluloid Closet/Vito Russo or the Vito Russo Test, this moment actually puts a pin in a shift within our show, its handling of content formerly completely overlooked by creatives, and the importance of diversifying our writing crews that we all press for.

It was the moment our show leaned, and frankly-- should have been the moment the straights panicked. In fact, some of them did, just before it aired, and then everyone has played at oblivious since.

Before seasons air, we get news on new authors being added to teams, or other workers. Pre-S9 was no different, with fandom finding a tweet from Bobo Berens, our first open-closet LGBT author. I mean, Out And Proud. A true king.

The association if this is the mention of the Bechdel Test, a step aside of Vito Russo.

Now let us begin.

Well first of all I’m just gonna let everyone get a giggle at how Bobo handled the straight male knee coil:

But anyway the response to his initial tweet was a merry go round of concern trolling in the area of “OH DEAR I FEEL SO SORRY FOR YOU PLEASE ALLOW US THE NORMAL ASSBAGS OF THE FANDOM TO TELL YOU AN AUTHOR HOW STRAIGHT THE CHARACTERS ON THE SHOW YOU’RE WRITING FOR ARE” and I dunno, it’s comedy.

Whether or not Bobo was addressing SPN as a new project in particular -- and it, from a dark age of SPN I’ve covered the upheaval during -- this is important. Really, really important.

Let’s say that timeline does overlap Bobo’s, and he did implicitly believe it; he might have had to write them as Straight Guys; but his own deep-seated place in the LGBT community developed resonant text, he made change. Change enough that when his first script was put into motion, the showrunner took one look at it and, for the first time in recorded history, we had note of some sort of intent --

Misha went on to say “so that’s what we played there.”

Regardless of anyone’s misunderstanding about how the fandom riled themselves up prematurely and shot themselves in the foot by lighting a CW exec on fire in the middle of network level board/CEO rotation commotion, or whether or not it’s visible enough for anyone--

this, this moment, this content, created by this LGBT individual led to this first known forward motion of intentful creative subtext. People can hilariously try to argue semantics about it that summarily boil down to “I mean it could be metaphorical jilted lovers it could be this it could be jilted lover bros, it’s just a turn of phrase!” in a loop as they’ve done with this data for six years until it dies every time, but this was it. This was the moment.

There is a nuance in this sort of writing -- how easy would it be for Dean to come up and say, “I’ll take some beef jerky.” Dean’s the meat man, Dean loves meat! We’ve seen it in other, new, straight authors the first time they try to tick off the Dean checklist, but like many lessons, that extra line leading into that smile holds volumes of LGBT history unspoken.

I think several of us Old Gays(TM) have banged on about the necessity of reading the Celluloid Closet, because for as much as people think they’re chasing queer subtext around here, it’s like they have completely missed that there actually is like, a printed, accepted code of conduct on this shit, basically. That’s not exactly what it was released for, but if you’re LGBT and engaged in lit and over 40 like you’ve read and understand and know this.

I’m not going to sit here and over-needle that line; most of you felt it the second your eyes drifted over it; but the sum of it is -- why that, what charming secret comes with that smile, a dean we’ve never seen smoke either, how is this part of how Dean throws himself back before his ex buddy leaves more unseen, *why* is that the hook? These are ironically things that no lit crit study *beyond* excessive citation of Celluloid Closet will really capture. This is a form of queer coding -- not the villainous disaster type that queer coding actually *is*, but the subversive form as it’s begun to be casually addressed in the population with positive, resonant content by authors choked out by IP holders while trying to service an audience. Or sometimes, even starting to accidentally.

So you know, you can unironically double down on the simplicity of Dean implicitly probably being a smoker (a possible read of subtext!), and I think this is kinda where the bizarre split happened tbh, because dude bros double down subconsciously into each reading of this kind of coding-- Dean just smokes, or this or that, though it grows thinner by year. Not about why that line is tossed, and how, and does just set off some sort of TV pheremone we all swamp like a bee hive. None of these moments truly mean anything independently. But it is the perspective and voice the text begins to take. The difference between that and “Hey pal [chews on jerky before buying] marlboros and got any pie?” in one moment that knocked everybody around on their ass in the fray of it. And then it all just went gayer from there, as if framed by one sharp moment that set the rest of the tone.

Hopefully you’ve all read my giant post about the history of this all to remember what I mean by accidentally, but even Bobo posted on it before,

That’s all an aside to the general point but worth placing into the edge of the conversation here.

The simple fact is, an activist gay man joined the show, and possibly with ‘keep it straight’ notes wrote some stuff so resonant, due to his point of view in life and the world, that even the showrunner decided to further guide it in that direction. It blossomed a direction.

The direction was small and slow and meek at first, (well, in final product -- don’t get me started at how S10 looks if all the cut scenes were included) with subtext running as dull echoes in Colette (oh look he wrote that too), and maybe more obvious with classic heart songs -- but even this was more structured than “Misha inherited abandoned storyline they scrubbed the romance out of as best they could”, or “Sera Gamble is a dumbass” that just happened to feature great chemistry and some resonant elements, like Bobo mentioned, we all connected with. But to actually constructively choose to incorporate these, no matter how quietly, was... *new.*

And some called it queerbait and I’ve already given history lessons from other angles on why no, but also now why here, definitely, no.

By season 12 we gained Yockey, another LGBT man, another activist in his own way like Bobo, but his less in writing political stuff and more in writing LGBT specialist plays. And everybody loved him, and saw it, and Yockey gets a boat load of praise -- deserves a lot of it -- but sometiems I feel like Bobo gets trampled over without recognition of how he shifted the playing field, the calculated effort he started putting into mastering those accidental resonances into something new, and ultimately to guiding the new author crew, Yockey included, or Jeremy on this newest episode who thanked him.

The same man that picked up Wayward and connected Dreamhunter... back to his own work and moments. The insanity of yelling “HOW DARE YOU LESSEN DREAMHUNTER BY COMPARING IT TO DESTIEL!” when, dead ass, you’re looking at this author who has carefully incorporated work and, with an already resonant story, made another relationship familiar to us by making it similar. Because that’s how writing stories works! But either way, Bobo has been in here doggedly growing the breadth of the legitimacy of queer narrative in supernatural -- to the point that it HAS narrowly, quietly breached into text even if not “loud” or “visible” enough for some people -- and the point where the subtext is so wall to wall and flooding every piece of cinematography in shooting and not just set or lights but complete mise en scene -- a point where everybody OUTSIDE of fandom is just addressing this shit as what it clearly is --

...That’s something that came with bringing the scope of an LGBT male author into the show. Whether you like the volume he’s been allowed to take his work to or not is your own thing, but before yelling queerbait at any creatives, perhaps it’s time to play “sit down children, and learn to appreciate the activists who came before you and how they’re fighting for you right now”. You wanna yell at something, get organized, pelt the CW in a non-aggressive, non-light-on-fire way, do activism like the books Emily put together that are resultingly still on the current showrunner’s desk now 6 years later, but most of all, don’t take a shit all over content you would otherwise enjoy, at the expense of a man in the demographic you’re trying to represent, who has battled, LITERALLY, for both the women and the gays in this show. Wayward was his baby. This slow swing in S9 that turned into a loud din in S12?

It wasn’t magic. It was a gay author. A gay author that has now climbed to be an Exec alongside dabb and the others and SURPRISE now suddenly everything’s so gay the whole goddamn world is seeing it. Literally SEEING IT, not just guys looking at each other with stories, but intentful, meritful choice in extremely bold cinematography choices that don’t require chasing a post-it on the wall, but instead are shot with care and devotion. Be that 12.19 Mixtape (OH DAT HIS) or 13.5′s Never Too Late (OH DAT YOCKEY. check what antis said to Dabb in his mentions after, even they saw it). Be that 14.18′s het drama PR promo (OH OOP DAT WAS HIS), be that 15.1-3′s entire tension and the openly addressed and so-called by media sources break up (OH DAT HIS), be that 15.7′s low key textuality (to which the new author thanked the elder for guidance, huh), or 8′s heavily shot domestic separation moment loudly filmed in the choicefully hollowed out and dimmed kitchen bereft of family -- this change? This had a moment. And you can find it.

I’ll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols.

So this has been eating at me ever since this whole topic came into play.

Anyway full circle them trying to ride Bobo to Keep It Straight probably wasn’t their smartest idea ever. We gays are contrarian by nature so tell me to do it again, motherfucker. And now here we are in Destiel Divorce Season 15 as heavily managed by Bobo.

Everyone got so fuckin dramatic when Yockey said he was leaving like, tolling the burial bells of Destiel and-- like??? hello? BOBO? JUST? GOT? PROMOTED? Like Yockey didn’t make that entire platform all by himself, and hell, he didn’t leave without laying out unironic empty space of it. Yo guys, Berens done been here a WHILE to the point he’s now *callbacking his own season 9-10 material wtih him and dabb*. Like. Lmao. Guys. Guys listen. Listen. Think.

Whatever your weird goalpost is I’m not promising anybody’s anything is about to get hit. Whatever clown nose expectations you all have enjoy those and honk those loud and proud but remember most of those are yours. But respect the fact that Berens has essentially cornerstoned an entire queer canon within Supernatural discussion, of which others are included in as they joined.

And yes, queer canon. Not the way fandom throws it around for weird kissing spots, but articles of discussion of queer narratives, of which we can literally draw a wealth of episodes from LGBT authors or their understudies and literally point and go “all of that right there, officer.” Whether it’s visible or textual or undodgeable or marketed enough or glittery enough or whatever for everyone’s very unstable definition of “canon” -- Berens has literally cornerstoned an entire architecture of queer canon within this legacy show.

#supernatural #spn #destiel #bobo berens #representation issues

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findingtheperfectcharacter · 4 years

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Logan’s Lowdown’s Typed

A complete collection of Logan’s Lowdowns from the episode. Now in a format that I tried to make readable, but since I threw it all on one post it’s probably still not great.

(13:26) "It would be" directly after Patton says that it'd be unethical to buy frogger when he could be giving money to the homeless

(13:30, said aloud) "It's just me, Logan. I have taken this form because I did not want to be too invasive. (Thomas asks what he's doing) "Well determining what feels right or wrong for you isn't really my area of expertise. Seeing as how there's not much left at stake at this juncture and that regret is unfortunately not an experience that can be expedited. I decided that I need need not expend too much energy on this matter.

(13:50 cont from 13:30) However I felt like it would behoove all parties if I provided relevant information to serve as supporting evidence to any of the arguments that are made during today's discussion

(14:08, after Patton suggested his 'factoids' were optional.) *Facts, factoid was a term coined by Norman Miller to describe false facts invented by magazines in order to manipulate the readers And yes I suppose they could be viewed as optional, those two options being informed or ignorant (14:35) "Thank you Thomas It-

(14:49-14-50 cont from 14:08) It would be an estimated annual cost of 20 billion dollars to eliminate homelessness in the United States according to Mark Johnston, the acting assistant housing secretary for community planning and development. Americans spend more than 20 billion dollars on Christmas decorations and flowers every year. So it would seem that many Americans do have the currency to spare to end homelessness in America forever

(15:16 cont from 14:50) Similarly if every US household were to give up just 1% of their wealth, than that would be enough to end homelessness in the United States for the next 50 years

(17:18, Roman talking about saving Leslie Odom Jr from the Scute bellied beast) Scutes are the short, wide, rung-like scales on the underside of a snake

(18:38, The difference between helping people out for the sake of it and saving people for a reward.) A study was conducted at Berkeley that looked at the correlation between an individual's happiness and the amount of selfless acts they preformed. This was done by comparing three groups.

Group A was not instructed to preform any acts of kindness, while group B was instructed to meet the quota of 5 acts of kindness within a week. Group C, however was required to preform all 5 acts of kindness within one day. It was found that groups B and C (both of which preformed acts of kindness) saw an increase in how they rated their own happiness. But the most significant increase was in group C (5 acts of kindness in 1 day.)

(20:43 After the trolley problem scene) That scenario was an illustration of the classic philosophy dilemma, the trolley problem. "Trolly problem" is a term coined by Judith Thompson, who also devised its two most famous variants. The "Footbridge" and the "Switch " (the latter being the version that was just demonstrated.)

(20:55 cont of Trolley problem) The Trolley problem is intended to raise questions about our moral priorities: is it more important to minimize causalities or is it more important to strictly adhere to ethical rules? (The notion that it is wrong to kill another human being in particular).

(21:06 cont of Trolley problem) Furthermore the Trolley Problem asks us to examine the distinction between actively killing someone, and passively letting someone die.

(21:57 Patton says the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ of flipping the switch matters) What Patton is saying here ties into the principle of Deontology. Deontological ethics prioritizes specific duties above anything and everything else. A value system that is perfectly summed up in expressions such as, "duties for duties sake" and "let justice be done through the heaven's fall."

One of the duties that Patton's appealing to (which I already mentioned earlier as it is the most common argument leveled against redirecting the train in the trolley problem) is the aforementioned ethical rule that one should not murder another human being, even if one finds oneself in a n extremely specific set of circumstances in which homicide preserves more lives than terminated.

There is a natural tension between deontology and consequentialism, as deontology determines whether an action is right or wrong without much consideration of the ends of said action. Furthermore, the deontologically inclined might concern themselves with the intention behind a given action a given action. (a factor that would be completely disregarded by a consequentialist)

Deontological perspectives were first defined by 18th century German -

(23:08 Patton asks what real Philosophers would have to say about his viewpoints. Said aloud) Well, Freidrich Niezsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say. Primarily because Pity seems to be at the center of your idea of "putting good into the world". Niezsche famously rejected the idea notion that pity was a virtue. He once claimed that pity 'runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life.' So Thomas is-

{Everything under this point is Janus disguised as Logan.}

(26:54 After Patton suggests that Thomas shouldn’t dedicate too much of his time to frivolity. Said aloud) I have a difference of opinion on this one, Patton. I’m sure we’re all somewhat familiar with the tired metaphor for self care you must put on your own oxygen mask before helping fellow passengers. An analogy that warns against the practice of helping others with their personal issues when you yourself are in need of help.

It is ironic that that illustration’s so overused at this point because it has almost become as easy to tune out that advice as it is to tune out the actual safety instructions on a flight. Easy, and very dangerous. In the event that a plane cabin becomes depressurized, you do not have long to secure your oxygen mask before you risk your oxygen saturation levels dropping too much leading to hypoxia (which is just insufficient oxygen for life functions.)

Hypoxia’s symptoms can include: an inability to communicate, confusion, unconsciousness and possible death. Having heard a piece of information before does not give you licence to ignore it in the future. Especially when the consequences of forgetting are so perilous.

(28:16, Patton talking about how he’d totally let Thomas self-care in that sort of extreme situation. Said aloud) And just like all of the moral dilemmas we’ve been discussing, it can seem easy to confidently state what you would do in a difficult situation, without knowing how you’d legitimately behave when your instincts take over.

In theory you believe Thomas can and should take some time to care for himself, but every point you’ve made in this discussion has contradicted that sentiment.

(28:44 after Roman asks how Patton’s points have been contradictory to Thomas taking care of himself. Said aloud) Nearly every answer Patton has given to moral questions throughout this discussion has suggested that a moral life is a life without spending surplus capital and time on leisure activities.

Dr. Robert A. Stebbins defined leisure as “... activity engaged in during free time which people want to do and... actually do in either a satisfying or fulfilling way (or both).” Leisure means freedom, its your time and you do what you want with it, which in turn contributes to a feeling of control and improved self-esteem.

A lack of control, and self esteem are two factors that you all now understand can worsen Thomas’s relationship with intrusive thoughts-- and they have. Additionally, doctors Iwasaki Messina and Hopper wrote that leisure time promotes a joyful life, and if that wasn’t enough pleasurable activities stimulate the production of neurotransmitters which can than improve one’s physical health.

Leisure is something Thomas needs more of in his life in order to feel like he has a life and Patton is essentially suggesting that Thomas isn’t being as good of a person as he’d like him to be if he doesn’t sacrifice himself for others.

(29:56, after Patton says that isn’t true. Said aloud) Oh, is it not? Please correct me if I’m wrong (Patton says that he’s wrong) So if it was between Thomas’s life or another’s you don’t think Thomas should give his life up? Oh and this other person is an innocent little lamb. Or how about a group of innocents?

(30:40 Patton’s breakdown about not knowing in that kind of scenario what’s right or wrong. Said aloud) You don’t know? Earlier you said that all people naturally understand right and wrong. So? Should Thomas die so that others may live?

(31:32 while Patton’s offering a new Trolley problem with Thomas on one track and Lee and Mary Lee on the other. Said aloud) ENOUGH! This isn’t working. This entire conversation has become so muddled due to a constant misleading, misues of “conscientious” language. You’ll need a sharp side to cut through all this conscientious bull-frog.

{Logan’s back in these lines}

(36:24, Logan’s back! Said aloud) Not that any of you care, but I’m unharmed, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just here to deliver you one last fact than I will do you all a favor and spare you my company.

Peter Singer is an Australian Philosopher and activist who champions the movement known as ‘effective altruism.’ The primary feature that differentiates effective altruism from other moral philosophies is its practicality. It employs the heart AND the mind so that effective altruism can earn its namesake and actually... Be effective.

The aim is to help as many people as possible while maintaining a ‘perfectly adequate standard of living.’ So a poor, sick person giving 5 of their last 15 cents to an aid organization, while incredibly altruistic is not effective altruism because that money won’t go very far. And the act would only harm that person’s already unacceptable standard of living.

Fellow effective altruist Williams Macaskill recommends people who can and are inclined to should go into fields like banking or finance because more money earned means more money to give. (After Thomas adds that he needs to give himself a buff) And you need to maintain an adequate standard of living. You can’t forget that part. If the variety of generosity in your life is leaving you depressed, or like your life isn’t your own than you need to reevaluate things.

#ts spoilers #SVS redux #Patton sanders #Logan Sanders #Janus Sanders #Roman Sanders #Selfishness Vs Selflessness redux #long post

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sawdustandgin · 4 years

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A Year of Happiness, Joy and Sarcasm: My 2020 in Review

Absolutely nothing needs to be said about the year of our lord 2020 that hasn’t already been shouted from every social media platform like a shrieking alarm alerting us that the ship is sinking. We know. We’re all wet.

I will not remember 2020 as mask-clad because I didn’t take any photos while wearing one.

Every December, I reflect on the year through a short essay, allowing myself many opportunities to gush about the music that I didn’t include on my best-of lists but that I still loved dearly. (Though I guess I skipped last year. I found an abandoned draft the other day…) And consistently, I have regarded each year as one of transition.

I don’t have clear career aspirations outside of wanting to engage with music as deeply and personally as I can; my only concrete life plan is to profile small towns across the country through the lens of its local music scene. So, with this nebulous image of a future endeavor, I have had a tumultuous time with money since losing my job two years ago. I realized fairly quickly, after only a few months of foundering at it, that I was unable to freelance my way to a liveable income. And in all honesty, this was for the best—nothing hurts worse than realizing the activity you are most passionate about has become a chore. I stopped worrying about pitching editors and trying to rub elbows, and I got to work applying for jobs. I, incredibly luckily, secured one after a few more months. The adjustment to being unemployed was a leap for me and my deep desire for a routine, but the adjustment to being employed and trying to maintain a balance between day job and side gig was even harder.

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Then I loosened up a bit. Toward the end of last year, I tried to make a vow to be more consistent with the blog, but instead, I prioritized sleep. At the time, I didn’t realize that it was an either/or scenario and probably would have made a greater effort to avoid my television if I had. But ultimately, I had to accept that my relationship with music journalism was on my terms. And regardless of how [in]frequently I ‘discovered’ new artists (for myself), I wasn’t ‘missing out’ on anything.

And let’s be real, I wasn’t overly eager to listen to new stuff starting around April. I put so much energy into not losing myself in quarantine that I tuckered myself out before shit really hit the ceiling. When I began thinking toward my year-end lists in November, I began to worry that this would be my most deflated best-of season in recent memory.

That’s ok, Zoë, no one really cares about top ten lists, I can hear you thinking, colored by a fascination with my determination. But as a double cancer and pisces moon, I like to cling to the art that moves my soul (read: ~nostalgia~). And so I take great joy in spending all of December and most of January repeatedly listening to my favorite music until I conjure a partially arbitrary ranking system and create playlists galore. It really is the best time of the year.

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Of course, there are always a few titles that need no additional spins, whether due to automatic disqualification or simply because I listened so much that I know it intimately. The automatic disqualifications this year were particularly striking.

A few easy omissions were Chromatica, Positions, and Fetch the Bolt Cutters. Lady Gaga delivered her skip-less album around the time when it became clear that the pandemic was not even somewhat close to containment; my roommate and I cooked to Chromatica every night, singing along to every word. With each new record, Ariana Grande becomes a more graceful songwriter, and it also helps that Positions is a plain ol', boot-knockin’ good time. And the raw power Fiona Apple wields in Fetch the Bolt Cutters would be frightening were she not the perfect vessel to deliver it to us.

Then there is the category of albums that simply didn’t need my (albeit dim) spotlight: Set My Heart on Fire Immediately, græ, and KicK i are each masterpieces in their own right. They each move purposefully through diverse landscapes, each song a new adventure not bound by genre or expectation. Interestingly, Perfume Genius and Moses Sumney were never mainstays in my music rotation, while my love for Arca is unquestioned.

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That leads us to Re-Animator, I’m Your Empress Of and The Mosaic of Transformation, all of which I actively feel bad for disqualifying. I’m too much of a fan of Everything Everything to impartially write about their new album, though it was one of my most frequently played. I have been writing best-of lists for six years now and I would prefer to write about a constantly expanding, diverse group of artists. That means I can’t keep doting on Empress Of, despite her status as one of our best contemporary artists. Me and Us were truly just prelude to her 2020 record, whose title is a formal introduction. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith is also the most talented analog synth musician that I personally have ever engaged with, and her latest album is everything I could have wanted.

It took some self-control (aka strict time management) to not write a few thousand words about The Ascension. Let’s recall my massive thesis on Carrie & Lowell… Yes, I am a former Catholic who thrives in the ambiguous invocation of Scripture, especially from a songwriter who quite literally shaped my taste in music. Luckily, I’m not nearly as pent up with anger and existential dread as in 2015 when I was, for the first time, processing the physical and emotional distance from my family. This elongated emotional breakdown was spurred by drama between my parents, but was also due to an irrational fear I held about my own mother’s death. Listening to Sufjan Stevens forgive his mother on her figurative deathbed has stayed with me.

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The anxiety I felt about 2020 was almost entirely external, so the gorge formed from the current of The Ascension was not nearly as deep a canyon in my heart as C&L, though it is still an affecting 80-minute journey. Stevens’ production, when coupled with his lyricism, is a breakthrough, though I do hear murmurs of folktronica from earlier in the decade. (I’m begging everyone to listen to Under Our Beds by Consilience.) And for perhaps the first time, there were songs that I occasionally skip. If I still had to commute to work, I bet they would have grown on me. In fact, this would have been a perfect driving album—one that wouldn’t cause me to weep while on the interstate. (oh Carrie. oh Lowell.)

Then there was VOL.II by my dear friend Lauren Ruth Ward. She gave me an opportunity to write a unique interview with her about the record to be printed on the inside of the gatefold, making it a permanent fixture on this most exciting of sophomore albums. I could not justify writing anything more about it, if only to preserve the sanctity of that interview, which I gave more effort and attention than any other piece of writing I had done. It was a wonderful and inspiring experience that I hope to replicate. The most heartbreaking part of the pandemic’s onset, from a social perspective, was not being able to visit Lauren after the record was released.

With all that said, 2020 was about so much more than the music I listened to. All the digital replacements for physical intimacy during lockdown made me realize that my legacy (aka all my music writing) is fragile, locked into the impermanence of the internet. So I took it upon myself to build a physical archive; in the fall, I finalized a zine template, and the first eight issues are in the can. (So far, I have 19 zines planned. Email me if you are interested in having one!)

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I’ve also been living without a front tooth since mid-March. On one hand, it’s been convenient to wear a mask to hide the hole in my mouth, but on the other hand, all I want to do is bite into an apple. (For almost two years before I even knew I had to have my tooth removed, I had been forced to slice apples before being able to eat them. The abject humiliation.) The journey with my dentists and oral surgeon has been excruciating, to say the least. Who knew three people in the same medical practice could have such mightily different styles of care? [Author’s note: I got my crown after writing this essay! :grinning-emoji:]

In sum, it was my image of myself that I was able to see a bit clearer this year. Each year I think that I’ve figured something else out about myself, which had always led me to believe that I am a most-complex, divine being. But I think a more accurate interpretation is that, put simply, I am not static. My thoughts and emotions adapt to life and life doesn’t seem to stop throwing me around like sneakers in a tumbling dryer. My pronouns are now they/them and while I don’t have many specifics as to why, I just know that this feels right.

I hope your year was at least acceptable; 2021 promises a host of new challenges, but I think we can take ‘em.

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#year in review #best of #best of 2020 #music blog #music review #Lady Gaga #Ariana Grande #Fiona Apple #Perfume Genius #Moses Sumney #Arca #Everything Everything #Empress Of #Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith #Sufjan Stevens #Consilience #Lauren Ruth Ward #2020 #year in review 2020

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