#but yeah unfortunately i do like it. they seem to get stuck less. and i like that mothers have the option to breastfeed

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[fleur-bbyy]

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL

rating: 18+, minors DNI. ageless blogs are blocked.

warnings: sex sex sex, porn!au, no quirks, fake stepcest, fake stuckage, afab reader, reader is described to have a big ass, sex work, only fans mentions, breeding kink, pet names, use of oniichan, daddy kink, lots of porn barely any plot, all characters are aged up to 21+

katsuki is an ass man and no one can convince me otherwise.

part two.

“hey! what’re you doing step-bro?”

you were trying your best to play up the horrible script you were given. especially since you were hungry and had been on this set for five fucking hours already and you’re just now getting to the fucking. after what felt like an eternity of makeup, wardrobe, and pictures taken for the cover you were just ready to put your tits back in your tiny tank top and stop with this corny-ass scenario. stepcest stuckage.

of fucking course.

you were coming up on a year in the porn industry after being scouted from amateur sites and quickly shooting up in popularity as a pro. you were one of the many amateurs who had become pro in the last year and shot up fast in rankings, being dubbed a member of the “golden eight.” you had shot multiple times with six of the other seven, even becoming good friends with most of them and doing side stuff on your onlyfans with the burly red-head that people seem to adore seeing you with. occasionally filming some with the pinkette girl, too.

this was your first time shooting with the last out of the other seven, katsuki bakugo. famously called ‘dynamight’ because of his explosive personality and his ability to give equally as explosive orgasms to men and women both.

“cut! luxe, arch your back more baby. really need’ta see that ass pop.” your director shouted as your coordinator came to position you in a way that pleased him. luxe was your stage name when you were still amateur, and it just always stuck around. nobody in your agency wanted to change your name as luxe was synonymous with the girl that had a ‘fat, peachy ass’ and could ‘squirt buckets.’ you rolled your eyes at the camera that was positioned in the front loading dryer you were “stuck” in. they insisted it’d be best to catch your reactions close up.

“dynamight! you still good back there?” the director shouted once again as the coordinator finished up her work.

“yeah, just hard as a fuckin’ rock and ready to get the fuck on with it.”

“wouldn’t expect any less from you!” you were graciously warned about the blonde’s brash personality, even going as far to meet up with him a time or two before the shoot just so you’d be aware. and boy, were they right. always shouting obscenities and such vulgarity that is made seasoned pornstars blush, but you both seemed to get along due to your shared hatred of corny, half-scripted shoots and directors who think they have the next big video. dynamight was known for being a rough dom. always keen to leaving bruises with how hard he’ll grip the hips of whoever he’s getting down with and extremely fond of hickies. unfortunately for the two of you, he wasn’t allowed to mark you up this time.

you huffed loudly as your director kept going on and on about how great this was gonna be and how amazing it is to have two of the top stars in his video.

“yeah, yeah, fantastic. now can we get on with it? his viagra’s gonna wear off before he gets any action and my pussy will dry up so fast the sahara will be envious.” you half-yelled so you were able to heard from the your confines in the dryer. you heard the blonde behind you laugh, lightly brushing one of his rough hands against the exposed skin on your ass, sending a shiver down your spine and into your aching core.

the camera-man finally started filming and you saw the red light of your camera that was catching your face light up as the director gave the thumbs up. you once again repeated your corny-ass mandatory lines and you finally felt his fingers push your soaked panties to the side. you relaxed a bit, knowing that everything from here was basically free reign for the two of you. only a few more required lines from him.

“look how wet you fuckin’ get from your oniisan. only dirty fuckin’ sluts act like this.” he slapped your under-stimulated clit and gently moved his fingers up and down your soaked cunt. you moaned loudly. genuinely mewls and whines escaped your lips as he kneaded the fat of your famous ass. you couldn’t tell if you were just so needy or if your colleague behind you was just that fucking good.

it didn’t help that he was pretty fucking attractive, either. you were practically swimming in your juices the first time you met. ready to drop your pants and give it to him like you were on the casting couch.

you felt his cockhead circling your tight entrance as you whined for him. big, genuine whines. you had never been so eager to be fucked on camera, something about him enamored you. you felt the smallest little bit of his fat tip slip in your folds, but he stopped there.

“say it.”

“w-what?”

“say it. tell me you’re my little whore. oniichan’s personal slut. just using you to keep my dick wet.” he gripped your hips with his strong hands to keep you from throwing your hips back onto him, not like katsuki would mind. he thinks you’re pretty and sexy and has been waiting so long to sink his dick into your pretty folds. he’s fucked his right fist so many nights to your videos on your onlyfans, loving that you weren’t staged to do anything. that it was just you.

he’s also admitted multiple times on his social media that he is definitely an ass man and practically creamed his pants when he got the call that you were shooting together.

“fuck yes! i’m your whore, oniichan! please please please fuck me!” and with that he roughly slapped your ass and unceremoniously slammed his length into your cunt, resulting in a loud moan from you that could probably be heard from the main audio system. he let a rough growl escape from his throat and smirked when your pussy tightened around him. your walls were so warm and inviting, like his cock was made for you.

“fuck yes, baby. look at you taking your brother so, so good hah slutty pussy suckin’ me right in fuck. you wanted this didn’t you?” his movements were quick, rough, and calculated. the man inside you had turned animalistic as soon as his heavy, aching cock got a kiss of your sweet insides. almost immediately finding that spongy spot inside you that made you feel like you could let go already. he bullied his fat cock into your tight hole like he owned it. like you were his personal fucktoy.

“ohmygod yes… fuck please please please.” you babbled, not having to do much work to play your reactions up for your camera. he genuinely just felt so good, so perfect inside your warm cunt. it’d only been a few moments and you were already drunk off the way he slid in an out of you, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before.

sweat was already slicking up katsuki’s body and sparse blonde hairs stuck to his now-shiny forehead. the sight of his thick cock disappearing inside the co-worker of his dream’s pussy had him feeling like he could bust his nut already. his ruby red eyes bore into you, watching the way your ass jiggled every time his pelvis met the area where you butt and thighs met. he wished he could see your little fucked-out face. he so desperately wanted to watch as your pretty mouth let out those whiny and desperate moans, just for him.

just for him.

he usually didn’t, but he was definitely watching this video once it’s out, so desperately wanting to know what your sweet face looked like as he fucked you like a feral man.

“atta girl, little minx aren’cha? i bet you got stuck here on purpose just so you could get your step-brother to fuck you senseless.” he fucked into your dripping pussy harder after the director gave the green light, he too looked like he could bust in his jeans just from the sight of two attractive people fucking before him. it filled katsuki’s already full ego even more.

“god yes daddy wanted you s’fuckin’ bad!” daddy. the five letter word replayed in his head over and over again. it filled him with such an animalistic possession to know that you did do some research of your own, how else would you have known he goes crazy over that little name?

“oh fuck, callin’ me daddy now, eh? you filthy fuckin’ girl- oh shit!” he had to throw his head back from the pleasure as you threw your ass back against him, fucking yourself on his cock. your mewls growing louder as you split yourself open on him and he felt your already-tight walls begin to clamp down harder, squeezing his dick just right. he used the hand that wasn’t pushing your thong to the side to reach around and rub circles on your swollen, neglected clit.

“please daddy… i need to cum fuck i need to cum!” you loudly moaned, almost at a pitch similar to screaming. katsuki’s shit-eating smirk only grew louder. the two of you were so engrossed in each other that you both didn’t notice the director yelling cut and the clapperboard being used to signal the end of a take. you didn’t even realize that you had strayed away from your directions.

“c’mon babygirl… cum on this cock fuck! wan’ you to make a mess of your oniichan. keep fuckin’ yourself back on me like that and daddy’ll paint your insides white ngh shit.” the mix of his thick dick, skilled fingers, and word choice making the fire burning in your belly to engulf your body in heat. clear liquid gushing from your pussy and warming katsuki’s pelvis and legs. he looked down just as the last bit of liquid shot out from your spent sex.

“oh god baby, YES,” he groaned deeply and continued thrusting into you, chasing his own release. he used your body ruthlessly, like an animal in desperate heat, “fuck baby… ‘m cummin’ ‘m cummin’ please god let me cum inside please please.”

you’d never heard the rough dom whimper before, but the sound was music to your still-ringing ears. you let out a “yes yes yes” to let him know it was okay to cum inside. with a few more sloppy, rough thrusts, he was spurting his white hot seed inside your perfect pussy. you were both out of breath, sweaty, and fucked out. he still wasn’t fucked out enough and managed to give your ass a few light slaps, still enamored with how it shook and jiggled. you collapsed inside the machine, legs drooping and letting your ass fall once he pulled out. you were trembling and so exhausted you could probably fall asleep inside this uncomfortable-ass dryer. ready to dream about the best dicking you’ve ever had in your goddamn life.

after you both got cleaned up and half-chewed out by the director for going off script and ‘ruining his shoot,’ it was time to finally relax and go home. your bathtub practically screaming your name from home. before that, though, you met katsuki in the stars only lounge.

he wore a muscle tank that showed off his beautiful body that he’d spent years sculpting in the gym and a pair of classic grey sweats that showed off the imprint of his half-chub, you assumed the viagra still hadn’t completely wore off.

“can you believe the fucker had the audacity to say we ruined his shitty video? if anything we made that half-assed shit better.” you could tell he was prideful of his work due to the emphasis he put on his words. you lightly laughed, watching him scroll on his phone to catch up with the world since you both weren’t allowed it for a few hours. you saw his strong hands tracing lazy circles on his thigh.

“we should’ve wrote that script, shown them how it’s really done. we’re the ones that know how to trend on the hub, anyways.” it was his turn to let out a laugh this time. you sat down next to him on the black couch, still eyeing his cock and fingers that you already wanted back inside you. your gawking not going unnoticed by the blonde.

“see somethin’ you like?” he looked at you through his eyelashes and smirked.

“hell yeah,” your eyes traced his body, admiring every curve and detail, “i think it’s quite unfair that you got to see this hot bod and all i got to see was the inside of a dryer.” he gave you an amused look and gestured down to his semi-hard cock.

“whaddya say about round two in my trailer?”

the company ended up using the video the two of you supposedly “ruined,” it was trending in the top ten for a month straight due to its ‘raw intensity’ and ‘believable passion.’

you and katsuki were now in high demand to work with each other, jobs that you never denied. :)

part two.

[hongism]

SWEET JUICE - s.mingi (18+)

➼ genre; fantasy, smut ➼ pairing; mingi x fem!reader ➼ au; strangers to lovers, magic au, witches/warlocks au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 10.7k

the new apothecary in your small village is harboring a dark secret, you're certain of it, if only because he bears a starkly familiar crest on his shop sign - one that denotes the presence of magic.

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; sex toys, unprotected sex, comeshots, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, hand kink, mention of belly bulging, dacryphilia

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Normally, you aren’t one to be so deeply entrenched in the petty gossip going around town, especially when newcomers are not exactly scarce in these parts. This one in particular — the young man who moved here by himself and immediately set up an apothecary shop in the heart of the village — has been on the lips of almost everyone you’ve bumped into for the past week. Ever since the Summer’s End Festival, it seems all your neighbors can think to talk about is this mysterious lone wolf. Unfortunately for you, that means your interest has been piqued both out of nosiness and out of a potential opportunity.

“You said he’s nice?”

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t meet him personally. I was busy running the stall while Yunho was doing all the socializing, but Gerda came over and she said he’s a rather nice and charming young man.” 

You appraise the man across the counter with a far less enthused grin. It doesn’t deter Seonghwa from his egregious nods of encouragement, however. So, you continue to pack away the little bundles of herbs that you’ve been preparing all morning into the man’s satchel.

“She says that about everyone under the age of fifty. I think it’s her duty as an old woman to say that. What did Yunho say about him?” 

“Hm, what did Yunho say about him…” Seonghwa brings a neatly manicured nail to his chin as he mulls over your question. You snap the buckle of his bag into its proper place now that you’ve given him all you need to and set your hands down on the counter. “He was fairly charmed too, I believe. I mean, in terms of the guy’s personality. You know his gaze goes in one single direction for all other aspects of things.” He flattens his palm against his cheek and doesn’t even bother to hide the smugness that creeps over his expression.

“Don’t get cocky now,” you cut in before Seonghwa can redirect the conversation towards himself. 

“Is it being cocky if I’m just repeating what he says all the time though? Oh my Seonghwa, you’re so pretty, the only man I could ever look at, I never grow weary of seeing your darling face. It’s truly romance at its finest.”

“Back to the new guy, Hwa.”

“Hmph. You’re more interested in him than you were in me when I first moved here!”

“You didn’t run a shop when you first got here. Otherwise, I would’ve been just as eager, promise.” Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you, lips drawing into what must be an attempt at a frown but it’s so half-hearted and soft around the edges that you can’t be sure. “I’m trying to establish a financially beneficial supply line with this guy. Thus, I need to know what he’s like so that I know how much bargaining I ought to prepare for before going to speak with him.”

“He’s nice, not much of a talker from what I could tell watching him from a distance, and he mostly stuck near the bonfire. Though it was still damp from the rain earlier that day, and autumn was already sending in her cooler breezes. Anyone who hasn’t acclimated to our lovely finicky weather acts like that when they first arrive here. Spoke to everyone who approached him. Talks with his hands a lot. Very—” Seonghwa makes a few vague gestures consisting of him just waving his hands in the air a bit “—big. Not quite taller than Yunho, but broader and like… meatier, I suppose. I wonder if I should give Yunho bigger meal portions actually, he might need it. Really, how does he stay so skinny even doing all the heavy lifting around the house? Do you have any herbs good for muscle growth?”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, that’s it.” Seonghwa’s protest comes immediately. “No, because last time you did this, you started asking me about concoctions to make his semen taste better, and that is not a conversation we’re going to be repeating!” He grabs his satchel off the counter as you hop up from your stool, though he still tries to appear very upset over the matter while pulling it over his head.

“Well, tell me when you’re planning on going over there at least. I can give you a meal before you go home since it’s a bit of a trek to get back here.”

“I’ll go tomorrow. There’s still some inventory left over from the summer that I need to sort out. And I need to prepare some decor for the Autumn Festival sooner rather than later. Ugh, I got so behind on my work it’s infuriating.” You’ve been slacking a little more than you usually do this past week on account of being bedridden for five days straight. You thought you were going to avoid getting sick at the end of summer for once, but your body had other plans for you and decided to push it into the start of the fall season instead. That’s the only reason you need this information about the newcomer from Seonghwa so desperately: otherwise, you would have been at that very festival and been able to witness the man for yourself.

“Oh, speaking of, everyone missed you last week! And told me to send you well wishes, which are obviously not needed anymore, but the sentiment is the same nonetheless, no?”

You send Seonghwa off with a few extra herbs pressed into his hands and wishes for safe travels. It ought to only take him fifteen minutes to walk back to town, but he came by rather late and the sun is already setting so you don’t want him to get caught alone in the dark on his way. He is kind enough to allow your nagging, only pinching your cheek when you tell him once more to quit asking about recipes and herbs to use on Yunho’s dick. 

Once you’re content seeing him reach the end of your garden path, you flick your wrist in the direction of your crops. The drizzle that suddenly starts falling from the sky is light enough to not be much of a hindrance to Seonghwa, though you’ll be certain to bring down some heavier rainfall after he disappears over the edge of the hill. Though your closest friend in the village, you still haven’t had the heart to tell him what exactly brought you to this remote place or what you were running from when you came. He only knows that you came here nearly eight years ago on your own and with nothing to your name, and by the time he and Yunho came along, you were already three years into building your business of selling herbs year-round. 

In truth, your witchcraft is not illegal by the nature of it being magick. Rather, you yourself are the problem being a witch in name instead of the formally accepted term warlock. Should anyone with any sort of agenda against you discover that you are a defector using your magick when you are no longer a practicing warlock, then you would likely lose everything you have here in this place. It took you two years just to find a town secure and remote enough for you to feel comfortable living in, and eight more to reach this point of stability. You don’t consider Seonghwa to be someone driven by monetary promise or swayed by others’ opinions, but there is just enough doubt that’s crept into your heart over the years to keep you silent.

“How depressing,” you mutter, turning back to your cottage and heading inside. You make the rain fall just a little harder to go along with your sudden decline in mood.

…

Perhaps, you think, there is some goddess out there who is keen on causing you inordinate levels of distress. Because although today was supposed to be nothing more than a calm and friendly meeting in the hopes of establishing a business partnership, you cannot push yourself to even approach the door to the new apothecary. The name of the shop is insignificant on its own — Mortar and Cauldron — and you wouldn’t think twice about getting up from this cursed bench you now find yourself on if that was all there was to it. Yet for some godforsaken reason, this man has deigned to put a symbol behind the name, one that mimics one of the crests belonging to the House of Ballads (the very one you defected from a decade ago). Some deity must surely be playing a sick prank on you.

There are a few routes you could take in this situation. You could pretend you never came and forget the idea of creating a supply line, missing out on some revenue sure but it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to make up for it in other areas. You could go in and confront the newcomer, demanding to know who he is and what he’s doing here on the off chance that he’s truly some bumbling idiot who has no clue what symbols he’s drawn into his signs. He could very well be a defector himself, you suppose, although it would be suicide to use one of the House’s official crests as one. Or you could simply play the part of the fool yourself, act none the wiser, and pretend to be the normal citizen you are. Even if this man were truly from the House, he would not recognize your face because you were never formally entered into the place. You had been merely part of a small church sect on the outskirts of the capital, far from the House of Ballads and all its operations. The name you held while there has already been burned to ash and nothingness, likely stricken from all their records as well the moment you disappeared. If they wanted you dead — well, they would have had you killed long ago. So, you seem to have your best course of action.

“I know my decor isn’t the most appealing, but I don’t think it warrants such a foul expression.” The voice resonates so close to your ear that you truly feel the vibration in your teeth, but moreso, it startles you out of your skin, and you all but launch yourself off the bench with an embarrassing yelp. Just behind the bench where you were, there stands a man you don’t recognize. Tall, with sharp features and equally piercing dark eyes, and dressed in black from head to toe complete with a scarf draped over his head to mimic the hood of a cloak. It doesn’t fully shroud his borderline psychedelic hair — an unnatural yellow shade that blends into a fiery orange-red and makes his head look more like a torch than anything else. “Hello. Sorry for surprising you like that, it wasn’t my intention to make a first impression in such a way.”

Ah. If not for your racing heart, you would have put two and two together far sooner, because obviously, this would be the mystery owner of the apothecary, considering how you recognize everyone in town.

“Would you like to come in and look around? I was simply across the street to get some bread.” He tilts his head back in the direction of none other than Seonghwa’s shop. One glance at the storefront gives you enough of a clue as to whose fault it is that you’re having this unsavory first encounter because said man is pressed up against the window and staring through it directly at you. You have to fight the urge to scowl at him until after your newcomer steps out of your line of sight. Seonghwa tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and sends you a far-too-cheery thumbs-up. You turn away with a less subtle middle finger. 

Despite the muggy weather and cooler temperatures, the inside of the apothecary is warm. It almost feels a bit humid thanks to the rain outside, but not unbearably so. And considering how long you were sitting out there getting rained on, you welcome the heat quite a bit. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the friend Seonghwa mentioned, would you?” He catches you with the question as you’re undoing the knot holding your cloak around your shoulders. “I don’t recall seeing you at last week’s festival, though I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself to everyone then.”

“Oh, yes, that would be me. I wasn’t there because I was recovering from a nasty cold. Y/n.” You jut a hand out in his direction, pushing a smile to your lips as you look him in the eye, though thanks to his height, you feel as though you have to crane your neck just to do so. 

“Song Mingi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n.” He doesn’t take your hand the way you expect; instead, he pinches the tips of your fingers and bends at the waist, lips grazing your knuckles so softly that you almost don’t feel the contact at all. What’s more startling is how hot his touch is, especially considering how he was just out in the cold. You catch a glimpse of his hand as he’s pulling away, but he’s simply wearing gloves. Knowing Seonghwa, he probably kept the man hostage with conversation for a long time before sending him out to speak with you, and your friend always keeps the house warm because of the ovens, so that’s likely where all the excess heat is coming from. Your staring lingers too long, and Mingi clears his throat quietly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Likewise,” you spit out, placing your cloak on the coat rack by the door.

“Were you looking for something in particular, or did you just want to see what sorts of things I have?” Mingi wraps around the back of the shop’s counter, and you take it as an invitation to approach. The glass cabinet serving as the surface is filled with a variety of things both familiar and not. Potions, vials, bundles of powders, and even some gemstones that carry a glow at their centers. The presence of magick here is undeniably strong, and it is not yours alone. There must be dozens of magickal objects here, though the ordinary person wouldn’t sense a thing. You don’t let your gaze linger on any of them for long before pulling focus back up to the man’s face.

“Well, I intended to come introduce myself first since we didn’t have a chance to meet at the festival. But beyond that, I wanted to let you know I grow all sorts of herbs and ingredients in my garden. I supply many of the local shops and stalls, especially during the winter seasons. The ground is particularly fruitful thanks to all the rain we get here.”

“Oh? Yes, I noticed rather quickly that there’s near-constant rainy weather here.” As though on cue, a bout of thunder rumbles in the distance.

“You truly chose a summer lover’s nightmare moving here,” you laugh. “Charybid is always in rainy season.”

Mingi hums and grins a little, looking to the window before saying, “I’m quite alright with it really. The heat of my homeland is far more unbearable in my opinion. You can tell how little I went outside there just based on how pale I am.” He flashes the back of his hand that’s still enveloped by a glove like he wants to prove his point, only to realize his little blunder and fall into a bout of awkward laughter instead. “But you said you’re a supplier? Do you have a local shop as well or…?”

“Local, though not here in the heart of town. If you follow the west road up over the hill, you’ll see a string of cottages. Mine is the one with the big front garden! Oh, and there’s a sign as well, of course.”

“That would be immensely helpful especially since I don’t have much space here to grow my own things. It’s a bit difficult to outsource supplies in this area too, isn’t it?” Mingi glances down at the open notebook sitting on his counter and skims the contents. “Would it be alright if I came by at the end of next week? That way I can finish unpacking and taking stock of everything I have.”

“Yes, that’d work just fine. You can come by any time you need, though I always advise against coming too close to nightfall because walking in the rain at night is an easy way to get sick.” You offer a smile, perhaps a little too pleased with how smoothly your business proposal went, but your enthusiasm seems to be received well given how brightly Mingi smiles in return. The air has begun to get more stifling, and you can feel sweat clinging to the back of your neck. It’s unpleasant now, a kind of warmth you’re not used to experiencing all the time because you don’t keep your home so toasty, but it reminds you of evenings shared with Seonghwa that always end with you wanting to escape out into the rain just for some respite. “I won’t take up more of your time, though. I promised to go see Seonghwa myself once I was finished here. I bid you well.”

“Thank you, and have safe travels home yourself. I look forward to doing business with you, Miss y/n.”

…

You leave your cottage in the wee hours of the morning, intending to water your crops before the sun rises, but those plans are dashed the moment you spot the man waiting outside your fence. You’ve seen him several times since your first meeting, though not here and solely in town. He hasn’t come this far yet despite his insistence that he would come over two weeks ago. Autumn is in full swing now, four weeks since the start of the season and five since the new apothecary came to town. You had not quite lost hope that he would be true to his word, but you must admit that you are caught off-guard seeing him at this hour and at your gate.

“When I said not to come at nightfall, I didn’t mean that you needed to come at the break of dawn!”

“I wanted to come before opening hours,” Mingi replies in a far clearer voice than your own. You’re still wiping the sleep from your eyes after all, and it seems he has been up for some time considering how he doesn’t appear tired in the slightest. The lantern at the end of your walkway is lit — strange because you thought you had remembered to blow it out the night before — and the glow combined with the first few rays of sunshine over the horizon is enough to illuminate the space between you and the man. “I was also out on a morning walk, so I figured it would be smart to find out how to get here before making a fool of myself. Beyond making plans to do so several times over and not once making good on those plans.”

You did gather much from your first impression of the man. Seonghwa’s word proved correct: Mingi is quite friendly, although a tad clueless but his kindness makes up for that, and you heard as much from your fellow townsfolk after you left his apothecary a month ago. After all, newcomers will be the talk of the town for weeks after their arrival, so you got to be privy to much talk about his character just from spending five minutes milling about the streets. He’s cordial each time you happen across each other in the village on top of that, full of never-ending apologies about his delay in coming to see you (to the point where you have to demand he stop apologizing three times before he takes the hint).

“Considering how I didn’t even make it to the front door, I’m assuming I did not wake you?” he continues when you reach the edge of the fence. You shake your head, undoing the latching and pulling the gate over for him to step through. 

“No, you simply caught me coming out to check on the crops before the rain starts.” You didn’t sense any rain coming today, but a little trip down to the pond can easily be arranged once Mingi departs. “This is only the front garden. I can show you the back as well, if you’d like, I have far more plants there.”

“You take care of this all by yourself?” he inquires, voice edging on awestruck, and your chest swells with pride.

“Yep! It is my livelihood, after all. But I am very enamored with the work too, so that helps me as well. These plants need more sun, and thanks to the location of this cottage, they receive it at least eight hours a day. Same goes for the plots on the left side of the house, but the ones on the right are not as sensitive to the sunshine. I keep the least temperamental crops in the back, along with some gourds that shops have a hard time finding at this time of year. My more cold-sensitive plants are in planters indoors, I have that small little greenhouse attachment on the side of the house as well as fungi and the like in the basement.”

“It seems you truly have a bit of everything then?”

“I try to at least. Whenever traveling merchants come for market days, I make a point to collect whatever seeds I can. I also like picking up gardener’s pamphlets! There are always good tips for how to make certain plants thrive, and occasionally they’ll mention ones I’ve not heard of so I know to be on the lookout for those things. If there’s ever something you’re in need of that I don’t have, I’d be happy to collect some samples for you from some merchants and we can discuss planting them too.” When you glance up at Mingi again, his jaw is hanging slightly open, eyes still bearing into you with that same wonder and disbelief. “Oh, sorry, I’m being a terrible host. Did you want to come inside for some tea or coffee? It’s still quite early.”

“That’d be great. Do you happen to have a catalog of all your crops as well?”

“Of course, of course.” You motion for him to follow you up to the house just as a few drops of rain start hitting your skin. Maybe you won’t need to go down to the pond after all. “It seems you came at the perfect time. Do you have some sort of potion that lets you predict the weather?”

“If only,” he laughs, ducking his head a bit to avoid the doorframe. He shrugs his cloak off upon getting inside, and once again you’re regaled by the sight of him dressed in all black. Though, today he’s forgone gloves and simply stuck to a long-sleeved shirt that extends past his hands. 

“You’re welcome to look around as I get the water on and all!”

“I’d be happy to do that for you.”

“Please, you’re a guest, that’d hardly be fair of me.”

“But I did accost you before dawn, so I’d like to think of it as a fair bargain.”

You purse your lips. “Okay, I’ll relent and allow you to do the water, but I’ll take care of everything else.” He drapes his cloak over the back of one of your chairs, very careful and meticulous about the way in which he lays it down, but you only watch him long enough to see him reach the sink. Turning your back to him, you busy yourself with finding mugs and prepping the coffee Seonghwa gave to you a few weeks back. You should’ve thought ahead and asked him for more since you were just over there, but it slipped your mind completely. Perhaps he needs some more lavender and rosemary, you could pack some and use that as an excuse to go back to see him.

When you turn around next, Mingi is already sitting at the table in the seat where he set his cloak down, and you make a small noise of surprise.

“Did you get the stove figured out already? I swear it takes me four or five tries to get it to come on right every time.”

“Hm? It came right on when I turned the knob. Is it not supposed to do that?”

You let out a huff of air while shrugging and set the mugs down on the table. “It never does that for me but that very well may be user error.” The sharp whistle of steam interrupts your thoughts. “Ah, and it’s heating up quickly too? Those remedies of yours are becoming more and more appealing by the second. You might be the town’s new miracle worker at this rate.” 

In truth, it’s making your skin itch a little. There was some odd presence of magick back in Mingi’s shop, and even now you feel something sharp prodding at your own magickal energy in your own home. It’s not a threat, not one that you can concretely act on yet at least, but it’s enough to make you wary. To let a witch into your safe haven is a dangerous and risky game to play, especially if it’s where the source of your power is. Thankfully, you were not so foolish upon moving here to do something as juvenile as that — yours is safely kept away in that pond down the opposite side of the hill and tucked into a small grove in the surrounding forest. 

“Oh, let me grab that catalog for you real quick!” You bolt up from your chair at the sudden realization, and Mingi seems to accept it as simply that. You grab the book from your shelf, also snatching up the charm you keep near it and slipping it around your wrist while you’re out of sight still. It won’t be enough to fully shroud your energy, but if Mingi is indeed poking and prodding at your aura in search of something, it ought to at least throw him off enough to sate his curiosities. You usually only use such an item when strangers come to town for those market days you mentioned to Mingi before, and it certainly is a first for you to have to use it in your home. 

He’s not budged an inch by the time you return, which is nice to see because he could either have started snooping around in places he shouldn’t or bolted without a trace. You set the book down before him, still wearing a faint smile on your lips.

“I just updated it at the start of the week too, so you have the freshest copy.”

“Wonderful, I’m starting to understand the name on your gate post more and more.”

“Ah, that.” Wonderland was simply a silly little name you came up with on a whim because that’s what this place is to you, but it stuck and everyone in town loved it so much that you could not escape the urgings to keep it as a name even if you are not a shop owner in the way that people like Seonghwa and Mingi both are. “It’s nothing terribly special,” you opt to say instead. The kettle starts whistling more egregiously, saving you from having to explain the name any further. You stand and go to grab the handle of the pot, only to scald your palm so badly that you nearly fall over backward. Mingi scrambles to get up, chair clattering against the ground as he rushes in your direction.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I—”

“You’re sorry?” you blurt through gritted teeth, clinging to your hand and trying to will the pain away to no avail. “What are you sorry for?”

“I-I should’ve — I should’ve gotten that, I mean, my hands are…” he trails off, and you glance down at the now exposed hands that he’s put between you. From the tips of his fingers down to the first knuckle on every single digit, Mingi’s skin and nails both are the color of charcoal, like they’ve been permanently stained that way. Were you anybody else, you would not know what it means. 

“I’m fine,” you say. He’s a warlock after all, it seems. Of course he is. You have been teetering on the confirmation for weeks at this point, and it was silly of you to ignore the obvious so many times over. His uncomfortably warm touch and the stifling heat inside his shop were both dead giveaways. You did not forget to extinguish your lantern last night, nor did the stove simply come on by way of Mingi being deft at using the knobs. He lit the lantern himself, lit the stove himself as well though because he was unaware of how your finicky stove works, he made the flame too big and too hot, thus leading to the quick boil and unfortunate accident of you burning your hand. The symbol on his door sign should have been enough of a clue.

“Please, at least let me make you something to treat the burn. It’s what I’m good at after all, and it’s the barest of minimums I could do.”

If you kick him out now, then it will surely be obvious that you know something about his identity. Only daft idiots or people with something to hide would turn down the help of a healer such as himself. In the past decade, you have lost all semblance of good judgment because no amount of mental gymnastics can get you to refuse his help right now. You’re dooming yourself if he already knows what you are, but if he’s got even the slightest hint and you turn him away, then you would confirm it for him. You have to take the risk.

“Okay, I would really appreciate it,” you whisper, easing yourself down into your chair once more. Mingi’s shoulders visibly relax. “All these plants and I’m afraid I’ve barely got enough knowledge to make tea on a good day with them. Everything you need ought to be on the shelves behind the counter. Those are all freshly picked too.” When he turns his back to you, you let your meek expression drop and glare at the welt that’s already formed across your palm. Mingi’s magick does not appear to be volatile, meaning that he must have had some sort of formal training in his life. It’s common for fire warlocks to bear the same charcoal-looking scars that he has, mostly from overexertion of their kind of magick. You produce more sweat than is natural for a normal human being thanks to your affinities too. 

Would the House truly send someone here for you after so long? And to go through the effort of having them set up a shop in the heart of town? If they wanted someone to watch you, then it would have been easier and smarter to have someone take one of the cottages closer to you. Besides, Mingi has not been taking every opportunity to come find you or learn about you. Nor does he wear any ring to indicate his affiliation with the House. A sanctioned mage would surely make use of such benefits. Could he be a defector like you? Or one that never made it into the House’s grasp? 

He returns to the table with a mortar and pestle filled with some sort of salve that he’s already beaten down into a mush.

“Does it hurt badly?”

“Quite a bit,” you answer truthfully, only wincing a little when he turns your palm to the ceiling. It feels as though his fingers alone could sear your skin.

“I made extra for you to use over the next several days as well. All you need to do is store it somewhere cool and apply a little to the burn twice a day until the pain stops.” The mixture is so blissfully cold on your skin that you could cry, and even with Mingi’s warm touch massaging it into the burn, it feels like a heavenly relief. “If the pain doesn’t stop by the time you run out of salve, then please come visit me. I can make more and give you something to keep it from scarring.”

“Understood.”

“And y/n…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, and your breath catches in your throat. “You do not have to hide what you are around me.” His gaze finds yours. “You are a witch after all, are you not?” A witch. The word feels like a slap in the face.

“Are you associated with the House? Did they send you? What is it you want from me?”

“The House? Absolutely not. I left their good graces many years ago. I wouldn’t give them even an ounce of my time anyway.”

“So what? You’re a witch as well?”

“Yes, I suppose I am though I don’t make a habit of calling myself that. Simply an apothecary, much like how you are simply a farmer. Of sorts.” Mingi fidgets in his seat and looks closer at you. “I am genuinely not here to cause you harm or disrupt your life. I imagine we came here for the very same reasons in fact. I simply want to live by my own terms, not anyone else’s.”

“Get out,” you whisper. Perhaps there are hundreds of better ways to handle this, but you have never had to do such a thing in all your time here, and you cannot be faulted for acting out of panic and fear now. Your voice comes out louder now, “Get out of my home then! Get out and don’t come back d-don’t dare tell anyone.”

“The energy is permeating the entire house.” Mingi keeps his tone quiet as he continues to speak through your distress. “Your garden too, I felt it immediately. The rain — it’s in there as well. Sure, it’s always rainy season here but how much of it is because of you?”

“You know what the other name for my kind is, right?”

“You’re a water witch.” 

You retract your hand from his with a scoff.

“The House tends to call us Scyllans. Sweet temptresses of the deep, killers of foolish men.”

Mingi somehow has it in him to smile.

“Then I ought to be safe, for I am neither foolish nor a mere man.” He stands without saying another word, collecting his cloak off the back of his chair and slinging it around his shoulders. You can’t help but to stare at him, wary and on edge with every movement he makes even when he reaches the door. “My words hold true, y/n. I hope you think them over at least. And your secret is truly safe with me.”

…

You avoid going into town for so long that Seonghwa seeks you out five days after you go into self-imposed seclusion. It’s easy to keep him off your back at least, and from what you can tell, Mingi has not sought him out to expose your dirty secrets as of yet. The logical part of you understands that you ought to avoid angering the man because he does hold quite a bit of power over you right now. Fear keeps you captive instead, however. 

Two weeks and a day after that fateful encounter you had with Mingi, you dare to leave the comfort of your home. Not to go into the village — that is a step you are not prepared to face — but rather to visit your precious grove in the forest. You should have gone last week as it’s always been your habit to go once a month to rejuvenate your magick; however, you were so on edge that you couldn’t get beyond your back fence and promptly turned right back around. Tonight, you’re determined.

The skies are clear, not a single cloud marring her starry expanses, and the moon hangs high near the center of the sky. Even better yet, it’s a full moon. Ideal conditions for you to bathe in the pond and restore some much-needed energy. You set out forty minutes from midnight even though your trek will not take that long. You need only be there for the highest peak of the moon, so giving yourself this little bit of leeway should allow you all the time required to reach your destination. Despite yourself, you do glance over your shoulder several times on your way out of the house and garden. When you’re content with your loneliness, you set off down the hill.

It’s not as though you decided to dismiss Mingi’s words altogether once he left. You have put much thought and consideration into them, in fact, especially after Seonghwa came to see you and nothing had changed between the two of you. It’s no guarantee that Mingi didn’t tell anyone, but it’s something. The matter of him being a witch like you, well, that has been a contentious debate in your head. A true warlock calling themselves a witch is considered heresy to many, so you have to believe that Mingi is being truthful with you. You know enough about his magick to know for certain he is either one or the other. But at the end of the day, there is no way for him to prove as much. All he has is his word to back him up, and all you can do is either accept it as truth or deny it. 

Long ago, you had settled on the knowledge that you would likely be a rather lonely creature for the rest of your days. Finding Charybid and its people was a welcome blessing, but not a permanent one, and the friends you’ve made (especially Seonghwa and Yunho) cannot understand what it is you are or relate to you on any matter concerning witchcraft. You’ve long since accepted that loneliness as a part of you even if there are pieces of your heart craving warmth and understanding from another like you. 

If it were possible, could Mingi be that sort of person in your life? Does he crave the same thing? Is that why he confronted you to begin with?

You reach the grove with a heavier heart than anticipated. Moonlight creeps in through the canopy of branches overhead, glistening off the half-circle of rocks around milky green waters. The moon has already been charging the pond for hours, and you feel the pulse of magick resonating deep in you from the bottom of it. 

Stripping down to nothing, you drop your clothes into a pile near the rocks with your satchel and toe at the water. It’s frigid as expected, thanks to the encroaching winter that is coming closer and closer still. You sink into it fully and submerge yourself in the charged waters. Several meters down at the bottom lies your precious black pearl, glowing a deep purple shade to show exactly how much magick she’s stored since you last came. You let the waters hold you for some time until the dull thrum you feel around you turns into a hum that makes your skin feel like it’s full of electricity. 

It’s only then that you decide to emerge once more, breaking the surface of the water and letting air replace the magick in your lungs. 

Yet, you find that you are not alone.

Bent so far over the pond that he looks one slip away from tumbling down into it, none other than Mingi sits crouched at the edge. It’s far too late to pretend as though you haven’t made note of each other. Depending on which direction Mingi came from, he may not have even seen your belongings behind the rocks. You sink lower in the water until it comes up to cover your lips. 

“My apologies. I did not know you were here.” Just his gaze is enough to make your body warm. You tilt your chin up.

“Is that so?”

“I came because of the magickal energy, yes. Not because I knew you would be here.” He’s not far from you. The moon shines her pretty rays down around him, and you blame her for the insatiable tug in your gut that’s making you want to pull him into the waters with you. “I have been thinking about you though,” he admits under his breath. You imagine the words are not meant for your ears, but he doesn’t seem to realize he’s spoken them out loud. It takes little movement on your part to swim closer to him, and you only stop when he is perched directly above you.

“Do I look the part of a temptress now?” you inquire, hand breaking through the surface of the water to caress his cheek. 

“Incredibly so,” he murmurs. “I see why foolish men fall. Perhaps I am no better.”

“You know nothing about me.” You trace your fingers down to his chin. 

“I know enough.”

You shush him with a laugh and a finger placed directly over his lips. “The sun gives you her power during the day, but on nights like these, the moon offers me a fair exchange. Her power for my sexual energy. That is where a water witch’s magick comes from, and it’s what has earned us all those myths and urban legends about eating men. Now that you know that of me, should I trust you in return?”

“I am what I say I am. I am a fire witch. I defected from the House of Ballads five years ago. To answer your question, though, if…” His gaze has become lidded, focus drawing down to your lips with each word he tries to speak. You feel just as overwhelmed and foggy yourself, the excess magick seeping into you from all angles as the moon inches ever closer to her peak. “…you deem it wise.”

“I think some part of me might.”

“Did you consider what I said to you last time?”

“But of course. It wasn’t so long ago that I’ve forgotten already.” A sigh escapes you as you look up to where the moon can just barely be seen through the trees. “I’d like to give you a chance, if only because of morbid curiosity and the fact that I have made it a decade without finding another like myself.”

You inch up and graze Mingi’s lips with your own. His fingertips tickle the surface of the water, and the effect is nearly instant. Warmth surrounds you and draws a gasp out of you that has you curling away from Mingi’s face. He leans back.

“I cannot restrain myself well enough tonight. Not in the presence of such potent magick.” You are equal parts pleasantly surprised and grossly disappointed by his willpower. With a smile, you push away from the edge of the pond and head further into the water. Mingi almost makes the mistake of following you, teetering at the grassy bank.

“You are welcome to visit again. So long as I am not nude or compromised.”

“I-I—” His cheeks are stained a deep red by now.

“I do not intend to put on a show for you tonight, Mingi, but I am in desperate need of the moon’s energy. If that is all, then…?” Were the circumstances any different, you would consider your wording to be crude in that you are essentially asking him to leave so that you can fuck yourself with the crystal you brought along with you in your bag. 

He clears his throat and sits completely back on his heels, gaze wandering across your face. Licking over his lips, his eyes linger on the water droplets running from your hairline to your jaw. 

“I will come to you when the first snow falls,” he says. “So that you may have time to contemplate things further. My decision is already made, and I'm sure you're aware of it. Please… please let me know then what your choice is.” You want to retort that he doesn’t have the best track record thus far, but instead leave well enough and wave him away with a grin. A bout of laughter leaves your lips as soon as he passes through the clearing and out of sight.

“Are you testing me?” you whisper to the moon, receiving nothing but her monotonous glow in response. You wade over to the rocks where you left your belongings and quickly rifle through your pack in search of the rose quartz you brought along. It’s cold to the touch, unpleasant in comparison to the warm body that you just had with you and within your grasp. While the shape isn't perfect, it gets the job done in the absence of the real deal, and it serves its purpose just fine. Not like you have any other options as it is.

Part of you entertains the idea of having Mingi still here — from a practical standpoint, consummating the ritual with another magick user would be far more effective than using a crystal charged by the moon. But from a pleasure standpoint…

You dip your fingers between your legs, letting your body fall back to rest your head on the edge of the pond as you seek your core between your folds. The magick at your fingertips pulses through you and sends a jolt into your system just from the slightest brush. A soft mewl falls from your lips. You feel Mingi’s magick still permeating all throughout the water, clinging to your skin, and on your lips, you taste fire from that minute little kiss exchanged in a fit of passion.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot get your fingers deep enough inside your cunt. Instead, your thoughts are plagued by the visual of Mingi’s hands, his long fingers, the searing heat that emanates from them, and the all-consuming desire to know what it would feel like to have them inside you.

You cannot even bring yourself to waste time right now; slipping your fingers free, you plunge the toy in your other hand into yourself and sink it all the way in until the pressure in your gut is eased the slightest bit. It's blissfully cold against your walls; the coolness eases the burn that seems to be wedged beneath your skin and brings some clarity back to your mind. It does not, however, chase every thought of Mingi from your brain. In the haze of your vision, you can hallucinate him before you still, imagine him in the spot where he was not long ago watching you with those fiery intense eyes and urging you on. A louder cry of pleasure tumbles out of you as you're forced to twist and brace yourself on a rock to keep increasing the pace of the toy's thrusts inside you.

It ought to fill you with some degree of shame, you think, because who lusts so strongly after a stranger who poses something of a threat to your well-being and livelihood? But when your mind goes back to the idea of his large hands gripping your waist and hips as he splits you open on his cock, you can't be bothered in the slightest about the speed at which you're becoming invested in this man — all that matters is the speed at which you're thrusting the crystal dildo in and out of your pussy as an orgasm creeps up on you. You have to bury your face in the crook of your arm to have some semblance of sanity to cling to. And when you unravel soon after, it’s his name on your lips.

…

The first snow of the season is late.

You have been trying to avoid thinking about it solely on account of the superstition that mulling it over will only delay it further, but those attempts are futile. Because when you tell yourself to not think about it, you only end up thinking about it more, then you devolve into a sick cycle of reasoning with yourself and the moon and any deity out there who will give you the time of day. 

While you could set your pride aside for the sake of what it is you’re waiting on exactly, that is simply not in your nature. Additionally, you want to see whether Mingi will uphold his end of the bargain. He promised to come at the first snow. So you will wait for that day. 

Your gardens are thriving thanks to the lack of snow and the amplified support of your fully-charged magick, which is the only positive you can find in this situation while you essentially sit on your hands and wait. The downside is, however, that the temperatures are still steadily declining, and you always struggle in the winter to keep your home warm enough. Your specialty may be in water magick, but that does not mean you have any control or power over the temperature of said water, and everything around you tends to skew a bit cooler as it is. The thought of how cold you are and your house is and everything in between only pushes your thoughts more towards the lack of warmth and a potential source of it that will not come unless the fucking snow does first.

If you have to put up with seeing Mingi’s smiling face across the street while you’re pestering Seonghwa one more time then you may truly snap and lose all semblance of self-respect.

…

You’re knelt in a bed of rosemary when the first flakes of snow start to hit your skin. At first, you think it to be just rain but then a flurry touches one of the purple blossoms on the herb. The shout you let out is a terrifying mixture of joy and exasperation because at long last, your agonizing wait can finally come to a close. The way you scramble to pull yourself out of the dirt and rush indoors ought to be more embarrassing. It takes you all of five minutes to change out of your grimy gardening clothes and into something cozier and cleaner, though all you do is park yourself at the kitchen table with a mug of hot tea and stare out the window waiting for any sign of movement on the hill. The snow is coming down harder already, a billowing cloud of white that cloaks the dirt and grass on the ground. It doesn’t even occur to you to think that Mingi might not come at all, that he might have forgotten or worse — simply not chosen to come at all — because your patience has worn so thin over the past weeks that you feel relief just seeing the snow.

And luckily for you, Mingi is far more timely and true to his word than he was before. You neglected to keep track of the time, though you haven’t finished your tea yet by the time his lanky figure comes over the crest of the hill. You know it to be him instantly because his fiery hair is visible through the white all around him. 

You’re at the door before you can think twice, flinging it open and making your way down the path to the gate as though you aren’t in the biggest rush of your life. Behind him, there’s a trail of footsteps where the snow has melted under his feet, and the closer he gets, the better you can see how not even a single snowflake sticks to him in any way. Every flake that touches even the outside of his cloak simply melts upon contact, leaving him pristine in the sea of white falling around you.

“Did you wait long?” he asks upon reaching your gate. Somehow he manages to maintain a lilting tone that makes your brain itch. You want to kiss him so silly that all that smugness dissipates like the snow on his skin. “Y/n.” The breathy exhale of your name is all it takes for you to grab him by the collar and yank him down to your level. The warmth is so blessedly welcome. “Have you made your decision?” 

You slot your lips against his, licking at the seam of his lips without waiting for further invitation. He scrambles with the latch on the gate, though you’re of no help at all with how you’re trying to pull him over it, but once that pesky barrier is pushed open just a little bit, he slides through the gap and seals his body against yours. Even though the cold doesn’t seem to be affecting him much, his breathing still comes out in pants, like he sprinted the whole way here from town without rest. He clasps his hands around the back of your neck, thumbs caressing the underside of your jaw, and each kiss he plants on your lips is more searing than the last. It takes all you have to not trip over backward on your feet with him guiding you back towards the door of your home. The two of you don’t even make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against the doorframe and slotting a knee between your thighs. 

“Please, y/n, let me hear it from these pretty lips,” he begs. Your whole body is alight with something — either magick or lust or something in between those things that you can’t distinguish at present. The heat radiating off his body makes your head spin, and it’s such an intoxicating sensation that you reach your hands beneath the fabric of his cloak to be closer to skin.

“I trust you, I need you, I want you to have me,” you murmur back. Mingi pushes his lower lip out with the tip of his tongue. His gaze carries the same heat you’ve grown used to seeing all the time when you look at his eyes. Now, the weight of it feels heavier. Your breath hitches in your throat as he wraps an arm around your back, and his fingers dig into your side briefly. You’re pulled away from the doorframe and into the house only for him to slam the door shut and lock the snow out. What you aren’t expecting is to be flattened to the surface face first mere seconds later.

“I want to have you right here and now,” Mingi growls behind you. Every brush of his hands over your body leaves goosebumps in their wake along with the heat of his magick seeping into your skin. He takes apart your bodice carefully, pulling each string with a startling amount of care compared to his desperate rush to have you. A sort of fever takes hold of you, and with each piece of clothing he removes from your being, the more the fire in your belly roars. Glancing down, you see your clothes fallen into a heap on the floor, along with his cloak, then his coat, his shirt — each piece of fabric goes to join the pile until you feel bare skin against yours. The bliss of the contact is so immense that you let out a pitiful moan.

“Mingi.”

“Raise your arms over your head for me, y/n.” 

“Mingi,” you utter again, following the instruction without a breath of hesitation. He takes both of your wrists between just one of his hands and pins them to the flat surface of the door. Your chest trembles under your breaths. 

“I will not be rough with you unless you allow it. How I take you is up to you… whether it be me taking you apart gently or fucking you hot and raw right here and now.” You can’t take the sensation of his breathing down your neck without squirming. No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together, there’s no relief for the pulsing need for pressure there. The moment Mingi catches onto your attempts, he wedges his knee between your legs and leaves you to rock back on his muscled thigh for some sort of escape.

“Please.” It’s as though there’s cotton in your mouth keeping you from fully forming any kind of sentence because although your thoughts are running at a mile per minute, you cannot seem to get more than one word out at a time. Mingi nudges you forward into the door once again. He replaces the pressure of his thigh with his unoccupied hand, cupping your cunt and dragging his middle finger along the slit of your folds.

“You’re coming undone already, my little witch.” Mingi suddenly flicks his finger forward over your clit, and your knees buckle. Your reaction delights him so much that he repeats the action two more times, and your body truly becomes putty in his hands. He keeps you up between the hand holding your wrists to the door and the one cupped around your sex, but you aren’t sure your muscles could keep you up on their own without the help. Especially not when Mingi gets more daring and pulls a second finger into the mix to tease the ring of your entrance with small, methodical circles.

“Put them in me, put your fingers in!” you cry out only for Mingi to roll over your clit once again. His cock is twitching against your ass, firm and big, and part of you wants to forget everything else solely to have him in your mouth and down your throat. 

“Is that how good girls ask for things?” He pinches your clit between his fingers until you’re whimpering out an apology and smearing drool across the door. “Ask again. Nicely this time, sweetheart.”

“Please f-fuck me with your fingers, please open me up for you, I w-want to feel you so badly.” Nonsensical babbling is enough for him, blessedly, because you’re not confident that anything more coherent than that could make its way out of you right now. He rolls the pads of his fingers up against your clit again before going any lower. His laugh is borderline sadistic when you curl your fingers into the wood, nails clawing for some sort of grip that will help you ground yourself. “Wanna come so—!”

“That’s it, come for me, lovely. Then I’ll fuck you nice and loose on my fingers while you’re coming.” Mingi retracts his fingers right when your gut clenches, and as your walls squeeze tight around nothing, he slips two digits into your cunt. Your lips part in a silent scream, moans caught in the back of your throat. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids though it lasts so much longer than what you’re used to getting from your own hand and toys. Perhaps it’s because Mingi doesn’t let up on you even in the throes of your orgasm, or thanks to your magickal energies intertwining in the most raw and intimate way imaginable. “Let me open you up some more first, then I’ll give you what you want.”

You blink your eyes open and look at Mingi out your peripherals, mouth wide open and cheek still pressed harshly into the door even though you’re the one keeping it there. 

“Do you want it too?” you ask out of the blue. Your voice is tight and strained. His fingers curl inside you.

“So badly,” comes his quick reply, “that it’s taking everything in me not to put my dick in you right now. But I don’t want to hurt you.” As though to emphasize his feelings, Mingi rolls his hips forward, and his cock rubs hard against your ass. “Doesn’t even look like it’s gonna fit in you, fuck.”

“Mingi, I need you in me now, like right this instant now, not in five minutes now.” The first orgasm has your vision hazy and legs wobbly, but that’s far from a concern to you at the moment. Your urgency pushes the man behind you to have the same sort of franticness, hurriedly slipping his fingers free of your cunt and readjusting his hold so that he can grip the base of his dick. You hold perfectly still for him as he lines himself up with your waiting hole that’s already sopping with arousal. Your pussy takes him in like it’s greedy for it, each inch sliding in and spreading you wider to accommodate to his size. One thing’s for certain: Mingi has a stupidly big dick, so big that it makes you wonder if you’d be able to feel it through your stomach if you put a hand there. 

Whatever shreds of patience he had left in him turn to ash the second he’s fully buried balls-deep in you. He doesn’t wait even a second before he pulls out about halfway, and the only stutter in his rhythm comes from him trying to find it. You’re suddenly rather glad that he’s keeping your hands up for you because the drive of his cock inside your pussy would bring you to your knees otherwise. The sounds of pleasure fill your ears — his low baritone moans tangled alongside your more throaty ones that crack here and there, the slap of his hips hitting your ass, and the thumping of the door as he fucks you so hard against it that it trembles. 

“Y-You’re so deep, I feel you in my stomach,” you choke out between moans. It devolves into a sob as Mingi shifts his angle upwards a bit and hits a new spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars. 

“Yeah? Your pussy is clinging to me nice and tight, lovely, I think you like it a little too much.” He has enough composure to still speak without crying, meanwhile, tears are starting to pool at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation of your senses and nerves reaches unimaginable heights. “Bet your pretty little toy isn’t even half as big as me.”

Mingi thrusts so hard into you that his grip on your wrists falters, and one of your hands falls free. He doesn’t bother correcting it, nor do you try to keep it up any longer, instead rushing to get your fingers around your clit again. You’re so hyperfocused on chasing the high of another orgasm that you don’t warn him it’s about to hit you this time. He knows well enough when your body seizes for a moment before releasing every bit of tension in your muscles. Your walls flex around his cock, working him in time with the waves of your euphoria, until he can’t take it anymore and pulls free of your hole. He rests his length atop the cleft of your ass and thrusts a few more times there, then comes his release. Hot ropes of come shoot out from his cock, painting your naked back into a messy canvas of come and sweat.

Despite the sudden quiet filling the house, your hearing is hypervigilant and clings to every slight noise that comes from your partner, from his fight to get air into his lungs to the hand he now rubs over his spent cock. 

“You…” Your throat is too dry and you end up coughing instead of getting a sentence out. Mingi’s fingers trace small, unknown patterns into your hip. “You’re welcome to stay through winter. That’s my answer.”

“Through winter?” Mingi hums. He slips his hand around your waist and flattens his large palm over your abdomen. “What about spring?”

“Then too.”

“And summer?” He’s teasing you again. Somehow he still has the energy to do that.

“And summer and autumn then winter again. But maybe by the spring after that, I’ll be sick of you!”

“You won’t be,” he says through a laugh, lips brushing against the side of your head. You’re going to need better retorts if he plans on sticking around that long.

────────────

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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

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Two in a Bush

Another commission!

They asked for Reader getting separated in a dungeon and Wild panics to find them. :D 

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild wasn’t sure what to expect of a place like this.

He didn’t have anything like this in his world. He had the Divine Beasts that he had to figure out but those were giant mechanical weapons. Not some fortress that had a hidden secret at the end. 

Comparing the two- he supposes they aren’t all that different. From the monsters, to the puzzles, to even the multiple floors for a few of them, Wild could confidently say that he still had no idea what he was doing. Luckily, many of the others seemed to have more than enough practice and experience to go around. Wild was more than happy to leave the spearheading to them.

It gave him an excuse to look after you instead.

You were a special circumstance amongst this group of heroes. It caught Wild’s attention in more ways than one.

It was just unfortunate that you had zero fighting experience like the rest of them. Not that he personally considered it a fault of yours, don’t misunderstand him, but the idea of being with a group that does nothing but fight without being able to fight didn’t sit right with him. Granted, he was happy and delighted by the idea that you came from a place where you could live normally. It made him jealous in a good way. He wanted that for himself as well- but you would have had it from the beginning and that’s something that he knew he would never achieve.

However this also meant that they would have to be on the lookout for you specifically. Without any knowledge of how to properly defend yourself, it meant that they would have to pick up the slack.

Not that they would ever phrase it that way and much less to your face. Wild had thought that he could take the opportunities to look cooler and more heroic in an attempt to catch your attention but even he knew that it was a fool’s dream to picture it that way… That didn’t stop him from day dreaming though.

Regardless, he stuck by your side as the group explored the dungeon, sword at the ready and willing to defend you if needed.

You seemed content to explore the dungeon just like the rest of them, keeping pace and looking around with childlike wonder on your face. It made Wild smile.

Suddenly, the group was attacked.

Everyone sprang into action, Wild included to take down the threats in the new room. While there was usually only a handful per section, this room had an unusually high amount of monsters. It took all hands on deck to diminish the threat and clear the area before they could continue exploring.

Wild was lucky enough to stay behind the larger hoard of monsters, shooting at the threats to help his brother before they broke the line. He switched to his sword and charged ahead, slashing the threats along with the others until there weren’t any left. Tired, but relieved, Wild turned back to you with a smile on your face.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

His heart dropped and so did his sword from his hand. The metal clang echoed in the room. “Guys?”

Many turned their heads to him. 

Wild looked back to the group asking for where you were, prompting them to look around the room as well. Wild didn’t like the looks on their faces as they came to the same conclusion they did.

“Where did they go?” Wind scratched the top of their head.

“Were they pushed out of the room?” Twilight stood straighter, jogging to the entrance for a better look.

Hyrule followed the Rancher without missing a beat. “If they didn’t, then we have a bigger problem on our hands than any puzzle we can find in this dungeon.”

Wild could feel his anxiety rise within him. You were right there. How could he lose you? There’s still more monsters to go through. You can’t fight them. You can’t. He needs to find you. He needs to find you now.

“Oh hello.” Legend whistles, calling the attention of the others. “Champion, were you over here at first?”

Wild turns around and nods. “Yeah, I tried to keep them here so they wouldn’t be cornered so easily if they had to run.”

He doesn’t like the look on Legend’s face. There’s a panel on the wall but Wild didn’t think much of it at first.

Legend points to it. “Who wants to bet they’re on the other side?”

“What?” Warrior furrows his eyebrows. “What does a weird wall with a human shape have to do with-”

Legend grins and places himself in the human imprint. The wall spins suddenly with a quiet whirr and returns to its original position. Without Legend in it.

Wild doesn’t want to waste any time. He runs to the panel despite the cries of the other boys, too in shock over Legend’s disappearance to stop him from doing the same. He places his back to the metal and gasps as it spins just as it did for the Veteran.

He comes face to face with another room entirely and takes a step away. The wall stays the same. 

Legend dusts himself as he takes in the new room. He’s looking at the map they collected earlier, trying to figure out where they go and where this would lead. He’s scratching the side of his head, pushing his hat to a dangerous edge where it could fall off with one movement. He looks perplexed. He doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. Wild doesn’t want to think about going into uncharted waters and what that could mean for you.

Wild scans the room as well. There’s some more monster hidden in the shadows to his left and there’s a deadend to his right. In front of him, there is a hallway just beyond the room but there’s another exit just ahead of the monsters.

The monsters notice him and begin to make their way closer to the duo. The wall behind them spins again, signaling the arrival of a third member but Wild pays no attention to it.

He still can’t find you so he takes off running, picking a random exit in hopes that it leads him to where you could be. How far could you get in such a short time? Surely he could catch up in time before something happens, right?

He hears the Four call after him but he pays no mind to it. Footsteps begin to echo behind him along with the muffled cries of the monsters as they were shot on sight.

Wild takes a deep breath and looks around. He finds a new spot but there’s still no sign of you, even as he desperately begins to call for your name. There’s more monsters in this new room and he’s quick to deal with them. His building panic and frustration adds fuel to the fire as he channels it into a quiet rage to kill the offending beasts.

Once the room is empty, it remains empty. Not wanting to waste any more time, Wild turns on his heels and runs out as fast as his feet can carry him. 

He’s already lost. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the others are, nor does he hear them anymore. His breath is the only sound to surround him. It comes out haggard and stunted. He coughs- feeling a drop of saliva attempt to go down the wrong pipe.

Wild whips his head up, not bothering to continue catching his breath. He starts running again, finding a new path into a new room. There’s more monsters and he deals with them as quickly as the prior ones. 

Panic has fully set into his bones as each turn produces more and more failure.

Tears well up in eyes and in his frustration, Wild punches the wall. He hurts his hands more than he hurts the wall.

As in response, he hears a sound. It’s muffled and faint, but he can hear the familiar cry of rage and determination just beyond the bricks and mortar. It’s a battle cry.

It sounds like you.

Spurred on by the sound, Wild goes on the attack. He beats the wall with everything he has before the ground beneath him gives way. He tumbles and instinctually tucks himself into a ball. Wild wraps his arms around his head and uses his legs to try and gain control of his graceless descent. He eventually comes to a grinding halt and he unfurls himself from the positions he’s put himself in.

He is only inches away from the edge of what appears to be a cliff. His heart jumps at the sight as he rolls away.

Wild, remembering why he had tried to get through the wall to begin with, pushes himself to his feet.

A monster cries before it dies, quickly followed by more and more sounds of pain and anger. Another battle cry rings out, this time much more clear than what Wild had heard previously. 

It is most definitely you.

Wild looks over the edge hesitantly. It would be great if he had finally found you… But it would be a hit to his psyche if he were to see you in battle. He’s afraid of what he might see. Are you hurt? Are you terrified?

He looks over anyway.

Instead of terror, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that same determined look on your face that he’s seen on so many other faces. Your eyebrows are closely knit together and there’s a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before.

They’re hardened and sharp. There’s an ax in your hand that you no doubt stole from one of the monsters you must have come across. You look angry and there’s multiple splatters of blood over your clothes and exposed skin. The fabric that covers sticks to your body from the sweat you’ve produced from the intensity you’ve put into defending yourself. 

Wild finds himself glued to your figure. You fight ferociously even though your lack of training is evident. He watches you with his jaw agape and his hand on the handle of the sheikah slate. He’s entranced. This is hot.

The sheikah makes the familiar sound of a picture being taken before he reaches for his bow. From above, he aims for the monsters that come against you. His attacks throw the monsters into confusion as they search for the second hidden threat. The distraction gives you the perfect opportunity to strike them back and finish them off.

Once the last of the monsters has fallen, its body fallen beside the others, you take the last remaining part of your sleeve and wipe your forehead. You smear the blood splotches over your cheek in the process. Wild takes another picture. You look up, using your hand to try and block out any competing light and see him.

Wild snaps one more picture, hoping that it catches the way you instantly relax and smile up at him. He hopes he catches the way your eyes light up at the sight of him and the way you’ve held the weapon high in the air in greeting, making it look more like a victory stance over your enemies. He waves back enthusiastically. He’s never felt more proud in his life. “You did it!”

“Link!” You cry back and drop the weapon. You run close to the cliff, craning your neck to your sight on him. “You found me!”

Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Wild shakes his head affectionately and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t see your eyebrows furrow again or the confused tilt to your head. Instead, Wild takes a running leap and jumps off of the cliff. He opens up the paraglider and uses it to glide down safely to where you stand.

You run to him before he hits the ground, nearly tackling him as he lands. Wild wraps his arms around you instinctually, calming his pounding heart now that you’ve returned safely to his arms. You take in a shuddering breath and tuck your face into the crook of his neck. You feel inclined to repeat yourself. “You found me.”

“I wouldn’t stop searching until I did.” Wild whispers. He pulls back and wipes the remaining blood off of your face. “What happened? How did you end up here?”

You smile sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck. “During that first fight, I got pushed back far enough into the wall. It spun around and next thing I knew, I was in another room. I saw the monsters on the far end and figured that it would be better to not be spotted. I snuck out and only ran into more monsters so I kept going. Next thing I know I ended up down here and couldn’t not fight back.”

“Where did you even get the ax?”

“I stole it.”

Wild snickers and finally lets you go. His hands rest on your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You grin in return, putting on a smirk. “I just pretended they were customers on Black Friday. I’ve always wanted to fend them off with a stick.”

He has no idea what that means. “Ok- but you had an ax and they were monsters.”

“...High stakes Black Friday shoppers.”

Wild hangs his head in defeat. He tries his hardest to not laugh at your facial expression. It seems as if you know what you’re talking about at least, so it’s a small comfort. “Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are the others waiting for us?” You take his hand, stepping in time with him as he takes a good look around this new area. For the better part, it looks like a ditch with no way in or out- except for above.

“Sooomething like that.” Wild chews on his lip, switching to his climbing gear. He picks you up with zero hesitation, throwing you onto his back and he begins to scale the wall. You yelp and shriek, hitting his back as he climbs.

“Hey! A warning would have been great!”

“Hang on. I got this.”

“...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort. He’s ignoring your tone on purpose. Slowly, you adjust yourself on his back so you don’t fall off and wait until he’s reached the top. Once he lets you down, you smack the back of his head.

He blocks it effortlessly, leaning in instead to kiss your cheek. There’s laughter on his breath as he checks you out once more.  “I hope you're ready for a lot of walking. I’ll have you know that we are very lost.”

“Are we?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment and look back at Wild. You end up chewing on your lip as well. “Are we in trouble?”

“You? No. Me? Most definitely.”

[irisintheafterglow]

hey how do we feel about neighbor!bakugo on your first night in a new apartment complex

it was so much colder than you expected.

you already knew you needed to put in a work ticket to fix your ac unit because it seemed to be stuck at the lowest setting (and you weren't in the mood for such a high utility bill). for the time being, bundled up in your comfiest sweater, you finish unpacking the last of your things. the shower curtain is strung, the pots and pans are stored, and the sun is nearly gone by the time you arrange the last throw pillow in front of your headboard.

polaroid pictures of your friends dot your walls, reminders of home that should fill you with something other than sorrow. it was a different type of ache every time you moved back for school; you wanted simultaneously for everything to freeze in time so you wouldn't miss anything, but also for them to live and send you all the memories you weren't experiencing. yet here you were again, in a very cold, very echoey studio that seems too loud when you shut the kitchen cabinet and place a can of soup on the counter.

there's a knock at the door before you turn the knob to light a burner on the stove.

"hey." when you first open the door, you're bombarded with the smell of something incredible, savory and buttery with the slightest smokiness. it drifts down the hallway and you catch a door propped open with a case of plastic water bottles out of the corner of your eye. when you register the guy in front of you, you have to rewire your brain when it short-circuits. "i'm bakugo in 2281. if you smell smoke, don't call anyone. i just messed up trying to cook." he's the first person you've met that can make scowling look so handsome as he runs a hand through unruly blonde hair. you finally realize that you hadn't uttered a word since opening your door and you can imagine the jolt as your senses return to your body.

"i think it smells incredible, actually," you offer and he shrugs, a muscled shoulder lifting underneath a simple black tank. well, that is a...lovely view. "are you pan-frying something?"

"i'm not; my roommate is. i usually do the cooking, but he insisted when i accidentally burnt our shit on high heat."

"happens to the best of us," you agree sympathetically. "is it just the two of you in that unit?"

"nah, we've got two more with us too." a small smirk fights its way onto your face as he looks less-than-pleased with his living arrangements. "unfortunately."

"seems like you get along great with them," you tease lightly and he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. "did you guys move in today too?"

"took seven fuckin' hours, but yeah. eventually." he answers and you snort, feeling a little more at ease and leaning against the doorframe. "you?"

"i just finished unpacking my things. i was about to make dinner when you knocked." you swear you watch his eyes, scarlet red, shoot down and over your body, but the interest is gone as soon as it appears. "well," you begin a little awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. "i hope whatever your roomie makes is delicious, and thank you for letting me know about the smoke. better luck next time, i guess."

"yeah." bakugo shifts uneasily on his feet, like he was trying to say something that wasn't coming out.

"i guess i'll see you around--"

"yo, bakugo! we have a problem!" before you shut the door, you glance down the hall in the direction of the amazing smell and see who you could only assume was bakugo's roommate sticking his face out of the front door. his hair was fiery red and held back by a simple sweatband, also red. bakugo swears under his breath and gives you an apologetic grimace. "oh, hello!" the red-head addresses you with a blindingly bright grin that reaches his ears, which don't seem to be working as he shouts loud enough to get your whole floor a noise complaint. "i'm kirishima! are you our new neighbor?"

"what the fuck happened, shitty hair? and stop fucking yelling!"

"no, we don't have watermelon!" kirishima shouts back incorrectly. bakugo drags his hand down his face with a groan.

"that's not what i asked, dumbass!"

"just fyi, denki didn't tell me he put one packet in until after i put my packet in, so we accidentally made, like, ten servings of food," kirishima yells.

"this is what happens when you dumbasses do the cooking," bakugo barks in response. a crashing THUD! and the distant sound of loud hip-hop leak from their unit and you can't help smiling a little bit. for all their chaos, it was a little endearing. it felt like light was seeping into your stale apartment and you suddenly felt the urge to keep the door ajar so long as they kept theirs the same. "do we have any room in the fridge?"

"you think a broom is a bitch?" kirishima mistakenly mishears again and you stifle a giggle into your hand. "look, we don't have room in the fridge for leftovers since sero bought 2 cases of energy drinks!"

"i am going to stuff all three of them in a box and ship them to a different continent," he mutters and you finally burst out laughing. his eyes flicker over to you and narrow slightly, an idea precipitating in his brain. "you say you didn't eat dinner yet?"

"that can of soup is my dinner." you gesture over your shoulder to the sad little can in the dull light of your apartment. "why?"

"you wanna come over? promise they're not shitheads that wanna poison you. they're just dumbasses that don't know how to cook," he explains, a light shade of pink growing on his ears. "we can leave the door open, too, so you can bolt if you feel uncomfortable or whatever. up to you." he rubs the back of his neck with his palm, exhibiting every possible indicator of embarrassment.

"are you cooking dessert too?"

"no," he replies. "but i can make a mean ice cream sundae. it'll be damn good since i'm the one making it."

"then i don't need anymore convincing. want me to bring my own plate?"

"no need, we have extras." the sound of shattering ceramics followed by screams of horror say otherwise. "on second thought, maybe you should bring your own plate."

"no worries. i'll be over in a second. save me a chair?"

"'course. thanks for helping us and our mess."

"i should be thanking you. stay here a sec," you say quickly before grabbing a plate faster than the speed of sound. before bakugo can inhale again, you're throwing open the door again with a plastic plate and a container in hand. "any chance you've seen that new action-drama on netflix?" you ask as he walks you over to his unit. with every step, the impending chaos nears, and you find yourself grateful for it.

"the guys've been meaning to watch it, i think. i didn't really care but i'll watch it with you, if you want."

"oh, i've already seen it. three times," you admit sheepishly and don't think too much on his suggestion of watching it with you. "i just need someone to talk about the franchise with, and--"

"you the new neighbor? kirishima's almost done cooking, so we should have food out in a sec." another head pokes out from the doorway as you're about to step through. "i'm sero, the hottest one in the house."

"yeah, maybe for blind people!" the final roommate calls from far inside the apartment.

"you can't be in conversations when you're taking a shit, denki!" sero shouts back and invites you inside. "ignore him. he has many, many problems."

"as do all of the people in this damn house," kirishima says in passing as he sets a pan of food on the kitchen table.

"you better have washed your hands, fuckin' weirdo," bakugo threatens when the last roommate appears from the hallway. "sorry about them. we've been friends since high school and i can't get rid of 'em," he whispers to you.

"aw, c'mon. you know you love us or you wouldn't be living with us," denki sings.

"like i had any choice when you asswipes forged my signature on the lease."

"we didn't forge it, we just took creative liberties since you were on patrol..."

when the roommates are finally done arguing, you introduce yourself and, with one last amused look toward bakugo, sit down for dinner.

and for the first time in what felt like days, you felt warm.

---

despite it being less than a hundred feet down the hallway, all four of your new friends insist on walking you to your front door. three of them conveniently dismiss themselves once they've said their goodbyes, leaving you with a very-flushed bakugo fumbling over his words as he asks if you want to come over again sometime.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[hard-core-super-star]

Can I please request reader taking Hailee's strap for the first time or Hailee taking reader's strap for the first time, whichever you prefer! I really really enjoy all of your fics 😁

sinking deeper into you [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: top!hailee steinfeld x bottom!reader

summary: your girlfriend is the sweetest person you've ever met and yet you can't help but try to get her out of her shell for a night.

warnings: smut -> minors look away [porn with two inches of plot and by plot i mean fluff; sweet, needy, dorky hailee turns into borderline daddy hailee very quickly so keep that in mind; strap-on sex {R receiving}; like 2 seconds of strapwarming; so many pet names; praise kink go brrr; is loving degradation a thing?]

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: not gonna lie, this is exactly what i think about every time i listen to the coast bridge so...yeah. you can't tell me it's not intentional. i sincerely was going to write this the other way around but i got too carried away and committed to this instead. thank you, lovely anon, for being my first smut request [and for the lovely comment], hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

There are a lot of things to love about dating Hailee. There's the long list of ridiculously cheesy pet names she loves calling you, the constant hand-holding, the soft reassurances whenever you're having a particularly rough day, and, of course, the way she's always so considerate about your feelings.

Sometimes, you don't even need to tell her you're uncomfortable with something for her to know she should step in. She'll just quietly change the conversation or lead you away from whatever was causing your discomfort. 

Your girlfriend is lovely and supportive and you would have absolutely no complaints about it if she weren't so blinded by her need to make sure you're always comfortable. It's a strange thing to complain about, you're very aware of that, but sometimes you wanted more than the brunette was willing to give you. 

Especially in the bedroom.

You’ve heard every possible excuse under the sun about why she’s so hesitant to take certain steps with you but you’re pretty sure she’s just trying to keep her dominant side in check when it comes to you. It’s truly sweet but also attractive in a way that only makes you want her even more. 

Which leaves you stuck in the best yet worst cycle of your life. One that’s filled with soft pleads that fall on ears that are too busy relishing in your moans of ecstasy to actually listen to your words.

Tonight was going to be different though.

At least that’s what you told yourself. You had rehearsed the words you were going to say to your girlfriend over and over all day but unfortunately for you, they flew away the second she walked into your shared home.

She’d been gone all day, bouncing from one boring business meeting to another and while she loved her job, she loved being with you even more. So, the second she found you lounging on the couch wearing one of her old shirts, she practically pounced on you.

“Hello to you too,” you say through a laugh. “I take it you missed me?”

“You already know the answer to that, baby.” Her voice is softer than usual, traces of her earlier annoyance still noticeable in her tone. You don’t have to ask to know she’s had a rough day and you both already know you’ll do everything in your power to help her feel better.

You merely hum in response, content to just lie there with your overly affectionate girlfriend situated on top of you. Hailee seems just fine with having her face buried into the side of your neck but it takes no less than two minutes for her true intentions to come out.

She shifts a little seemingly trying to wrap her arms around you so she can feel you close to her but you know her well enough to know she’s not merely trying to cuddle with you. You’re proven correct when her hands start to mess with the hem of your shirt. “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you wear my clothes?”

“Once or twice,” you reply with a grin.

You feel her chuckle against your neck, her warm breath dancing against your skin but now quite touching you yet.

It’s been five seconds and you already want more.

Hailee, never one to leave you hanging, gives in to both of your desires and begins to press feather-light kisses onto the side of your neck. You instantly tilt your head back for her and pretend not to notice the smug smirk plastered on her face. She’s slowly winding you up like you’re her favorite toy and you can’t find it in yourself to complain.

Especially once her hands begin to move.

“Is this okay, love?” She whispers between soft kisses.

The tips of her fingers are just barely grazing against your stomach and it takes all your strength not to arch into her touch. “Mhmm…”

“I need words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

That’s all she has to say to get you to turn into putty in her hands.

“Keep going…please.”

“Good girl.” Your reward comes in the form of her helping you slide out of your shirt. She leans back and kneels between your spread legs to admire your body, her smirk growing once she realizes you’re not wearing a bra. “Always so good for me. So beautiful under me.”

“Is that why you’re taking forever?” You ask, unable to keep your inner brat in check.

She rolls her eyes at your question but you don't miss the way her hands wrap around your hips in a tight grip. It's a subtle warning but it's a warning nonetheless.

You can't help but wonder what would happen if you pushed her, though. If you truly pressed all her buttons until she had no choice but to strip away that sweet facade and put you in your place.

But that's a plan for another day.

For now, you bite your tongue and let her have her way.

She watches your face closely, her lack of words only adding to the intensity of the moment. She’s barely even touched you and you’ve already made a mess in your underwear.

A mess that only grows once her hands finally move again. They glide up from your hips, her nails lightly scratching your stomach, until she finally reaches her destination.

It takes all your self-restraint and then some to stop yourself from bucking your hips as her fingers tease your sensitive nipples. A barely audible whine slips past your parted lips the second she starts pinching and pulling at your flesh, though.

The sound makes her stop which only serves to draw out another needy sound from your throat. “What was that? Do you need something, love?”

All you can do is nod but, of course, Hailee’s not letting you get off that easy. It’s part of her charm, even though it’s also ridiculously frustrating in moments like these.

“Go on, baby. Tell me what you need.”

Here it is. The moment you’ve been searching for for far longer than you’ll ever admit out loud. You ignore the flush on your cheeks and the throbbing in your cunt long enough to ask for what you truly want.

“Your strap,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper yet full of that subtle desperation your girlfriend loves bringing out of you.

She doesn’t say anything for a few moments but the glimmer in her eyes stops you from overthinking your words. “Are you sure? I don't want to rush you, love.”

“I know but I really need to feel you inside of me.”

Her eyes widen for a few seconds before her whole face changes. You practically watch her slip into that dominant persona she plays so well when she wants to. And it seems like she desperately wants to tonight.

“Is that so? My fingers aren't enough for you anymore, baby? You need more?”

You force the confirmation she's looking for out of your mouth before you get too flustered to respond. “Yes, please.”

That's all she needs to hear and she wastes no time jumping to her feet, the action so endearing you almost forget about your drenched underwear. You hold in a giggle as she extends her hand out to you and helps you stand only to pick you up and carry you toward the bedroom.

You’ll never understand her fascination with carrying you around but you’re also not about to complain. Mainly because her radiant joy is contagious…and because the view you get of her biceps is more than enough to distract you.

“Stay right here, okay?” She mumbles as she sets you down on the bed. “I’ll be right back to give you everything you want.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that she’ll be true to her word.

The next few minutes pass by far too slowly for your liking but your suffering finally ends when Hailee comes out of the bathroom, looking far too proud of herself and the dark purple dildo strapped to her hips. “What do you think?”

You’re speechless and more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. You didn’t think the brunette could get any more attractive and yet here she is leaving you dizzy and desperate just from standing in front of you. The smirk, the abs, the pure confidence she oozes, it’s all too much in the best of ways.

“Come here…please.”

All she does is chuckle before finally joining you in bed. She helps you discard the rest of your clothes without pointing out how absolutely drenched you are for her. One hand lands on your hip while she uses the other one to hold herself up above you, staring down at you like you’re the best thing she’s ever seen.

The sentiment is mutual except you’re sure your eyes carry far stronger traces of neediness than Hailee’s. Which is exactly what she likes, if you're both being honest.

For a second you’re sure she’s going to make you beg before moving an inch but thankfully, it seems she wants you just as much as you want her.

She shifts her hips closer to you and you immediately wrap your arms around her as she oh so slowly slides the tip of the strap into your aching cunt. You let out a gasp, the intrusion feeling slightly uncomfortable but not unwelcome.

“I know, I know,” she whispers. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

“Fuck.” You groan, loving and hating the torturously slow pace she’s set.

���Is that good or bad?”

“Good. Really good.”

Her slow movements allow you to feel the way she stretches your walls with every inch she pushes inside. It takes no time at all for the sound of heavy breathing and quiet moans to fill the room.

Her hand slides down between your legs and her thumb messily circles your swollen clit to help you get used to the feeling of her strap buried inside you. “Was this what you wanted, baby? To have your pretty pussy filled up by me?”

You’re glad she can’t actually feel the way you clench around the dildo at her slightly degrading words. She’s not an idiot though and she’d have to be blind not to notice the way your hips buck toward her.

“Come on, darling. I’m not a mind reader.”

You open your mouth to say something, anything really, but Hailee decides it’d be the perfect time to start moving again. You can’t form a single word or thought once she starts thrusting in and out of you.

The brunette can’t even pretend to be disappointed by your lack of words, too lost in the way your body responds to her movements and the feeling of the base of the dildo rubbing against her clit with every thrust. “Fuck, you feel so good, babe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. So wet and needy for me.”

Your nails dig into her shoulder blades as you pull her closer. “Hailee-” Whatever else you were going to say is swallowed up by another moan.

“I’m right here, y/n.” The way she so easily slips back and forth between the two opposing sides of her desire drives you to the brink of pleasure-filled insanity. “Just focus on me.”

She leans down to nip at your jawline while her hips move faster and faster against you. The only thing you can do is arch your back into her touch and beg for more.

A request your girlfriend wastes no time in fulfilling.

Her soft caresses to your clit pick up speed. Her thumb, hips, and lips all work in unison to bring you the release your body craves. “You’re perfect like this. All fucked-out and mine to please.”

You love and hate the way she knows your mind and its hidden desires so well. “Lee, please, babe.”

“Please what?” She asks, clearly loving the way you’re so willing to play this game with her. “Use your words, baby, you know the rules.”

“Please, can I cum?”

A few agonizing seconds pass by before she gives you the answer you’re waiting for. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me how much you love the way I feel inside you.”

If her actions weren’t enough to push you to the edge, her words are.

The world outside of her embrace disappears and you give in to the overwhelming pleasure. All you can feel is her strap pushing and pulling in and out of you as you let yourself go, making a mess on both the toy and the sheets below you.

Hailee falls over the edge with you, mumbled words of praise and breathless moans filling the space between your faces.

It takes a few moments for your brain to come back down from such a breath-taking high and once you do, you realize the way your girlfriend has collapsed on top of you. The sight is just as heart-warming as it is arousing but you’re far too tired right now for another round.

“You okay?” You whisper, tilting your head a little so you can truly appreciate the way your girlfriend looks with her face buried into your neck.

“Yeah.” She presses a quick kiss to your sweaty skin to emphasize her point. “That was incredible. How are you doing? Was that too rough?”

“I’m not made of glass, Lee,” you assure her. “And I’m not the one covered in scratches.”

She shivers as you trace a finger up and down her spine. “Feels nice…Do you mind if I stay like this for a little while?”

The way you hold her close is enough of an answer for her. You’re both desperately in need of a shower and some food, but all you want right now is each other and the peace being locked together like this brings.

[obx-paradise]

What Happened To You?

Summary: You and Rafe have always been close but when you both get involved in the chase for the gold on opposing teams, some things change

Pairing: Rafe x Adopted sibling!reader; JJ x Cameron!reader (if you squint)

Warnings: Violence, Manipulation, Basically all of the shows warnings

Word Count: 2.7k

—

Growing up as a Cameron was easy. You got everything handed to you on a silver platter, as did all the other Cameron siblings.

Your mom and dad weren’t sure if they were going to be able to have any more children after Sarah came along so they decided to adopt since they always wanted a minimum of 3 children.

It came as a shock when they found out that she was pregnant with another baby, Wheezie.

That’s how they ended up with you as a part of their family.

Growing up, you had a strong bond with Rafe. Your mom would tell you that he had always loved you, from the first time he saw you at 3 years old he wanted to help his mom take care of you. She said it was the same way with Sarah but as you got older you saw that it wasn’t.

Rafe never treated you and Sarah the same. He was gentle with you, not to say he wasn't with Sarah, he just wasn’t as kind. It was a different kind of relationship. 

Although being a Cameron had its benefits, you didn’t want your last name to define you. You weren’t some rich stuck-up asshole who uses their money to gain power. You were a kind-spirited, humble person. 

Over the years, you had been taught that the people who had less than you were less than you. You grew out of that once you met the one person who would change that whole perspective. 

—

You had been assigned an experiment in school that day and you had to pick a location and do a good deed.

What better place to go than the cut. 

You were walking from house to house, knocking on doors, asking if anyone needed help with anything. Most people, knowing who you were, said yes but unfortunately the jobs were too big for a 13-year-old so you weren't able to do them. 

Finally, you came up to a house that didn’t look to be in the best condition. The door opened and standing there was a boy. You had seen him around Figure Eight doing odd jobs here and there. His name was JJ. He was cute. He looked like he was as old as you, 13 maybe 14 years old. No older than that.

You began to recite the same speech you had given to everyone who opened their door for you. It’s engraved in your brain at this point. You were tired and if he refused then you would probably go home and try again another day.

“Hi! My name is Y/n. I’m doing an experiment for a school project where I find someone who needs help with anything around their home, and I do it for them. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Rather than accepting your offer, he said, “Do I look like I need help?”

As confused as you were you answered with, “Um… yeah kinda. It could be anything like washing your car, cutting your grass or cleaning your porch. Anything like that.”

You were desperate for him to say yes to anything you had just suggested. You needed an A on this project considering you were close to failing the class.

It was the only class you had a C in and you needed to pass, or your dad would sit you down and talk about how doing the best you can is all he could ever want but you know that he wants you to be the best. 

“You’re a kook?” he asked you as he stepped out on the porch and closed the door behind him

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t see how that matters though”

“It matters because we don’t take charity” He seemed very set on his answer

“Well, it’s not –” You were cut off by the sound of glass breaking coming from inside his house, then by the door flying open. You immediately saw JJ freeze and tense up at the sound of the man's voice. 

“JJ! Boy, what are you doing out here!? Get your ass inside!”

JJ looked at you with what looked like fear in his eyes. “You need to get out of here. Now.”

You went to question why but before you could, the man, who you assumed was his dad, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside. Looking back at you he yelled one last “Go!” before the door was shut behind him. Leaving you standing on his porch, worried, thinking about him.

—

Ever since then, you visited him almost every day because you were worried about him. Over time you both became good friends then, eventually, best friends. 

When he introduced you to the rest of the pogues you felt a sense of comfort that you had never felt while you were around your other friends. 

You knew that this was going to be your new normal. Hanging out on the cut with your best friends, with not a care in the world.

You have been shielded your whole life and although you like the safety of it all, you wanted some excitement. 

So when you got involved in everything with the Royal Merchant and the gold you realized that you had gotten what you wished for. Later on, you found out that Sarah had also gotten involved along with the shock of her dating John B. 

You and Sarah had a good but complicated relationship. She’s your sister and you love her but you couldn’t help but be jealous of her at times. But not always.

She had all the attention on her at all times, she was the “kook princess” as many people put it. Everyone loved her, including Ward. It was no secret that she was his favorite and always will be.

That was probably why you have always been closer to Rafe. Something was holding you back from having a full relationship with your sister.

But standing here in front of Rafe, you have a feeling that some things are about to change.

—

“You jumped him, Rafe!” You just found out that Rafe and Topper, but mostly Rafe, had jumped Pope on the golf course earlier that day. 

You couldn’t believe him. You knew he hated pogues but you could’ve never imagined your brother would beat up your friend. 

“Yeah, I jumped him, Y/n. They pulled a gun on Top!” You could tell that he was angry. Maybe not at you, but at the situation.

“Pope didn’t do anything. Topper was drowning John B! What else would’ve made him stop?!”

“Why are you defending them? Why is it okay for them to pull out guns on us?” He was definitely using up all of his patience on you. However much he had.

You let out a sigh “It’s not okay, Rafe. But it’s also not okay for you to do what you did. Can you please, just, not do it again? For me?”

You were really hoping he’d agree to stop hurting your friends. With everything going on you didn't need him hurting anyone. 

“Fine, but if they cross me, I won’t hesitate to beat their asses.” With that, he walked away.

—

As time went on, things kept getting worse and worse with the chase for the gold. Turns out all the gold was on land, in Parcel 9. Finding it was surprisingly easy and once you guys had a couple of pieces you decided to melt it and pawn it off.

The lady at the counter had told JJ that she would give him the money but she didn’t have that much cash in the shop so she had to send you all to the “warehouse” that was practically in the middle of nowhere.

After a couple minutes of driving, a cop pulled you guys over.

“Cops? Out here?” Kie had said 

“God! Are you kidding me? What did we do?”

As the cop got out of the car you quickly realized that the “cop” was not a cop at all. The man had walked up to John B’s window and shoved a gun in his face, yelling at him to get out of the car.

When you were walking out of the Twinkie, the guy pointed the gun at your face and yelled at you to lie in the ditch, threatening to shoot you. JJ came to your defense and started yelling back at the man, but you knew if you didn’t stop him, he would get shot.

“JJ, stop it!” You yelled in hopes that it would get him to stop provoking the only person with a gun. 

Eventually, he found what he wanted and went back to his car, ready to drive off, when John B attacked him from the inside. Once he was down, you took off his mask and recognized him as Barry. The local drug dealer.

“I know this piece of shit! He sells coke to my dad.” JJ said glaring at Barry on the ground

“Probably knows my brother,” Sarah said with disgust

It was no secret that Rafe took drugs. You had never seen him doing them but everyone knew.

JJ bent down, grabbed Barry’s ID, and checked his address. He decided that you all would go to Barry’s house.

Unfortunately, JJ’s “plan” had gotten you in trouble with your brother. 

—

You were walking through town, minding your business, when you heard a motorbike coming up behind you. You turned around to find Rafe on his bike, stopping beside you. 

“Hey,” You said as you stopped walking

“So you’re going around robbing drug dealers now?!” He sounded angry at you, which was unusual because of the relationship you both have with each other. Although, recently you have been drifting apart. 

“What are you talking about? I didn’t rob anyone.” You played it off as if you had no clue what he was talking about.

“Oh no, you’re right, it was your pouge boyfriend! That asshole is dragging you into shit you don't need to be in!”

“Don’t talk about my friend that way. JJ is not my boyfriend, and he didn’t steal anything from anyone.”

You didn’t know what Rafe would do if you admitted the truth. If he would go after your friend. You didn't want anything to happen to JJ if Rafe decided to go through with anything. 

“You’re the good one, Y/n! Sarah can go off the rails, your “friends” can rob people and shit like that but you…you’re supposed to be the sane one.” He said as he walked toward you, getting in your face.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Rafe.” Once again you were trying to push the issue aside. You didn’t want him to get aggressive with you as he tends to get with others.

“I…I want you to stop hanging around them. I want you to be my sister again” He spoke softer, having calmed down a bit.

“I’m still your sister, it’s just that the stuff you do doesn’t help the situation we’re in and it hurts to know that you would willingly do something to hurt me or the people I care about.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you” You would later come to find out that his statement wasn’t true but in the moment you believed him.

—

When Sarah walked into your room one night and told you that Rafe shot Peterkin, you refused to believe her. You didn’t want it to be true.

“What’s happening, Sarah?” You said while pacing the room “This shit is crazy, I don’t know if I can do this anymore” 

“I know, but I’ve told you, he’s psychotic. He’s going crazy and Dad is defending him. Can you believe that?” 

You knew Ward would protect Rafe no matter what.

“I can actually. He would protect any of us if we did something like that.”

—

All of these events led up to where you are right now. You were with JJ getting the Phantom for John B so he could get off the island.

While JJ was going on and on about the boat, you heard a motorbike pull up. Assuming it was Pope, you both ran over to the other side of the boat hanger only to find Rafe and Barry walking towards you. 

You haven’t seen Rafe in a few days but you could tell that he did not look good.

“Rafe, what are you doing here? You need to get out of here. Please” You were panicking. Especially with Barry also being there, it made it worse. 

“See, don't think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road,” Barry said, more like yelled, while pulling out a gun and pointing it at JJ “I'm here because I want my motherfuckin' money”

As Barry started swinging at JJ you pleaded with Rafe, asking him to stop them

“Rafe, please get him to stop. I’m begging you. Please”

“This isn’t about you, Y/n.” He said walking toward you “Where’s John B?”

“I don't know!”

“Hey! Don’t fucking lie to me! Where is he?” He was now completely in your space. Walking towards you while you’re walking backward until he has cornered you. 

Instead of answering his question, you said, “Sarah told me what you did,”

“What? What did I do?”

“You murdered Peterkin” you muttered considering his closeness. 

As soon as you uttered those words, Rafe did something you never thought he would do. He wrapped his hands around your neck strangling you while doing so.

“Don't you ever say those fucking words again”

“Rafe!”

“Understand?”

You had begun crying at this point, hyperventilating, trying to take in as much air as you could before you were cut off completely.

“Rafe…it’s me, it’s your sister, please…”

You looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but anger. It was like he wasn’t conscious of his actions. 

As soon as you felt like you were about to faint, you heard a muffled voice yell “Don't touch her!” from behind Rafe, then a second later, Rafe’s hands let go of your neck, causing you to start coughing, and gasping for air immediately. 

You looked up and saw Pope punching and kicking Rafe and while Rafe did fight back, Pope’s anger made him stronger.

Within the same minute, JJ had managed to overpower Barry and the gun slipped out of his hand.

“Y/n! Kick it!” and so you did but when you turned around you saw Pope strangling Rafe with some type of hose that had been lying in a pile of equipment. 

“Pope. Okay, Pope.” You weren’t freaking out as much as you should be, considering Pope could, very well, kill your brother right now.

“Pope, that's good! Stop!” He still wouldn’t stop

“Pope, that's too much!” You yelled out while JJ followed with, “Dude, come on! Stop! Stop, dude!”

You were starting to wonder if Pope would ever go that far but after you and JJ yelling a bit longer, Pope finally let go. Letting Rafe fall to the ground, face bloodied, and hyperventilating.

The same position you were in a couple of minutes ago, minus the blood. With him on the floor and Barry knocked out you were able to get a good look at him. You could still see the anger in his eyes as he looked up at you.

You couldn’t help but wonder where it all went wrong. Was it the drugs, the gold, or has it been this way for a while and you were just noticing it now? 

“What happened to you?” You whispered with tears in your eyes as he lay there saying nothing back, so you continued “What happened to my brother who said he would never hurt me or put me in danger?”

With that you walked away, joining JJ and Pope who had already hooked up the boat to the back of the truck.

“You good?” JJ asked when you entered the car, “Yeah, let’s go”

With that, you both drove off without looking back. 

Knowing that you would never let yourself wonder “What happened?” ever again.

—

A/n: First post is done! I really hope you all like it. Please let me know if i could improve anything.

[genericpuff]

I really enjoyed seeing your last post!!! It reminded me of something else that I noticed when I was younger and not really seeing LO through the eyes I am now- even when I lived LO, I noticed that Minthe’s bust size.. Might’ve changed? (I could be remembering wrong, and I’m sorry if I am!) I didn’t think on it too much back then, but it felt a lot like the “she could never measure up to Persephone”, or the “she’s nothing to worry about when it comes to Persephone”!!

But then, when Minthe was supposed to be more of a “problem,” I noticed she’d get drawn with a larger bust- or at least larger than it had been back in the earliest episodes!

This could all make absolutely no sense, (and I apologize for just rambling in your askbox!), but I watching a character’s “worthiness” be portrayed through something as simple and neutral as their chest size stuck out to me then, and sticks out to me now!! 😓)

Oh don't apologize, you're literally pointing out exactly the things we've even talked about in the ULO community !

Literally here she is in S1:

And we even get a scene of her smooshing her boobs together in Episode 35 in an effort to make them seem bigger because she legit feels like Hades is pursuing the "new hotness" in the office based around their physical appearances:

But then she conveniently goes up like 3 cup sizes when it's time for her to be cemented as the villain and suffer her fate by getting turned into a plant?

I've literally seen fans grasp at straws to explain that maybe she got a boob job but then they don't realize that the story at this point has only been going on for like, 3-4 weeks at most. At best you shouldn't have to make those massive leaps to explain the inconsistent character body types. If Minthe really did get a boob job, don't you think that's something that should have been explained in the comic?

And let's be real, we all know what it's really about because it's just more of Rachel pitting women against women:

What's wild though is that Rachel is vastly misinterpreting a classic image here:

A lot of people look at that image of Jayne Mansfield and Sophia Loren and just immediately assume that Sophia is giving Jayne the stink eye over her outfit. And of course, we see this misinterpretation in Rachel's drawing that swaps Sophia and Jayne with Minthe and Persephone.

When in FACT what was actually going on was that Sophia spotted Jayne getting dangerously close to a wardrobe malfunction / nip slip and the camera just happened to catch her making a face that could be misinterpreted as slut-shaming.

"Yes, Paramount had organized a party for me. All of cinema was there, it was incredible. And then comes in Jayne Mansfield, the last one to come. For me, that was when it got amazing. She came right for my table. She knew everyone was watching. She sat down. And now, she was barely… Listen. Look at the picture. Where are my eyes? I'm staring at her nipples because I am afraid they are about to come onto my plate. In my face you can see the fear. I'm so frightened that everything in her dress is going to blow—BOOM!—and spill all over the table."

Ans Sophia has actually stated that she doesn't like those misinterpretations and is trying to actively distance herself from it.

"Actually, many, many times I am given this photo to autograph it. And I never do. I don't want to have anything to do with that. And also out of respect for Jayne Mansfield because she's not with us anymore."

Jayne died in 1967, only living for about 30 years, and Sophia herself is actually still around. I can imagine how disheartening it is to see people still misinterpreting a photo of two friends and colleagues especially when it's through the lens of slut-shaming an accomplished actress who is unfortunately no longer with us.

Sooo yeah all that said, I'm less inclined to believe it was Minthe getting a boob job and more inclined to believe it was more of Rachel's weird internalized misogyny picking and choosing which women are "sluts" and which ones are "victims" for dressing or being built a certain way. It's really gross when you start to notice it.

People have also pointed out how odd it is that every single character who gets into a relationship or is in a relationship by S3 seemingly morphs into copies of Hades and Persephone, which is really just more of a testament to how lazy Rachel is in her character designs. In her head she's just trying Hades and Persephone all the time but different colors, I imagine at this point the H x P relationship is the only thing that she's interested in writing/drawing about (and even that's arguably hanging on by a thread because she couldn't even let their long-awaited wedding scene have real room to breathe) so it's almost like she's defaulting to just zoning out and drawing nothing but H x P and then having her assistants color them differently based on who it's actually supposed to be.

But I digress. The body shaming and slut shaming is definitely hard-baked into LO and how it portrays its characters. Despite Rachel having written an actual comic portraying sexism in the past, she still can't seem to express her ideas around sexism, to the point of, again, saying she "didn't know sexism was that bad" until she worked on LO. Like, girl... you drew a comic about sexism before LO, what are you talking about? Is this more of you not wanting to acknowledge ANY of the work you did prior to LO, or are you telling me you didn't intend for those older works to be interpreted as sexism???

"I feel like female characters in general, people will be a little harsher on them and sometimes way harsher on them, and I used to be like.. before I started writing the story and like making a story I was like yeah, sexism is not that bad, and [now] I was like oh it's bad. It's quite bad [laughs], so like, I don't know, I feel like the female characters in the story don't get so much of a pass. But this isn't consistent across the board, it's not all the time." - Rachel Smythe, Girl Wonder Podcast circa 2022

[juniperdugong]

Perfection Pt.1; Awaken

Your soul is stuck in your corpse after your tragic demise...lucky for you the mortician who's prepping your body is a hopeless romantic willing to bring you back to the land of the living

Pairing: mortician!mingyu x corpse!fem!reader

Genre: Mortician!au, Horror!au || Fluff, Crack, Romance, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of death, corpses, and gore (Nothing in-depth and nothing intended to disturb) || Heavily implied suicide || Necro-romance, aka romantic attraction to a corpse. || Nudity || {Please let me know if there are other warnings you would like me to add}

WC: 2.4k

Songs that inspired this fic

Series Masterlist

If we can get our truths out now, you know exactly how you died.

This must've been the worst year of your life. The contents of it are blurry due to the effects of your soul and its current condition but you remember the feelings well enough. Although the memories didn't stick you remember the sinking pit that it felt like you were swimming in. Too far from the top to go back and too far from the bottom to see an end to what was an incredible amount of emotional suffering.

The one memory you do have is one of surrender. Relinquishing all your emotions and all the pain into a single, unforgivable action. There is no excuse but your room just felt so empty then. It had all your things in it but it didn't have you, you were not there. Your mind had wandered away with the joy, the joy that you were sure you hadn't felt in months maybe years. And the unfortunate thing about a mind that wanders too far from the body is that the body will do whatever it can to get its mind back.

This leads to the only reasonable-awful-but reasonable way to ground a person completely. Death.

For a split second before you did it, for just a moment before the full surrender, you thought "I wish I had someone to stop me.". At that moment, a really quick moment might I add, the thought of loving someone, the thought of someone loving you through all of the hardships and pain, it might've stopped you. But you didn't have anyone, did you? You had been lost and wandering for a while and it was time to come back home. You had no one to call you back so, yeah, you had to call yourself back.

And so you did.

The awakening process for a soul that has refused to move on, despite the wishes and through the confusion of the person themself, is an interesting one. It is almost like that feeling right before you go to sleep. You remember what you did up to a point and then you don't remember having actually fallen asleep. Or to be more correct you don't remember dropping dead. Then, with no prior warning or vision of heaven or whatever movies may have you believe this experience might be, you woke but you woke in a dark and cold space. An unfamiliar space. The laughter of a man could be heard from above you, you think. And in the middle of your reeling, you are met with blinding fluorescents.

The morgue.

For the sake of brevity and to not bore you with your own story I won't go into the processes that go on within the walls of a morgue. More or less it's identification, waiting, maybe an autopsy, and more waiting. Then you are shipped off in a body bag to either a mortuary or a funeral home. Lucky for you a mortuary was more than satisfactory.

Some amount of time passed before you felt yourself be lifted out of the car and onto some sort of table or stretcher. Now it seemed you were in the care of only one person. Quite strong as well to be able to handle the dead weight (no pun intended) of yourself. The sound of the zipper would've sent you jumping if you were able but perhaps more surprising was the visage before you.

A tall and handsome man, tan skin showing through what little you could see behind the protective gear he wore. Dark eyes studied you immediately and for some reason, you could feel them soften as they looked upon you. You didn't feel discomfort, in fact, a warming and welcoming feeling came to contrast the cold of-well-your everything at the current moment. The aura that came off the man was something like stepping into the home of the friendliest person you've ever met.

And he was oh so gentle with you. The way he was careful with his movements as he heaved your stretcher onto the main table. Your eyes followed him as he went ahead and gathered various things from around the room. Setting them on a smaller table next to you. A deep breath settled in him as he scanned your body.

You felt vulnerable in this state, not much you could do about it but still. He got a clipboard and read through it. "Y/n…" your name rolled off his tongue like a small prayer. He circled you, tapping gently at different parts of your body as he went along. Assessing your situation and what he would have to make "presentable" no doubt. Then he stopped. Pausing as he made his way back towards your head. Another sigh as he gazed at you.

"You were so pretty. I wish we had met under other circumstances y/n."

If a heart was in your body it would be beating so fast right now. His hand reached out and grazed your forehead. Is he moving the hair from your face? If you had working veins you would be blushing wildly.

This is crazy. You've decided that this is crazy. Your soul for some reason has decided to stick to your body instead of following the heavenly trumpets towards the pearly gates of paradise. And here you were, prisoner in your own skin, unable to move or speak or do much of anything. And the only thing on your mind is the man who is preparing your body???

Oh, Christ. What the actual hell is happening?

Also, why does it seem like the mortician is just as invested in you? Are morticians supposed to have organ jars in their preparation rooms? You suppose they do take care of those sorts of things, plus he's the professional in this situation, right?

"The more I look at you…The more I wish…What am I saying?" he shook his head with a huff.

Your eyes were open, not like you could willingly close them, but you were somehow able to see in this state. You could see the way the protective gown fell on his arm, very faintly outlining some sort of muscle. The way his breath caught on the mask, not shallowly at all either, a heavy breath. Almost like when he looked at you you had taken it away and he was grasping to get it back. The gloves that held snug to his big fingers, his warm hands, the ones that graced you gently with every touch. So caught up in memorizing his features you hadn't noticed that he was tracing your inner arm and staring right back at your lifeless eyes.

"Actually, you might be perfect and these might just be perfect circumstances y/n…" he tilted his head as he said those words, gazing deeply at all of you, taking you in like some person at the other end of the bar.

Why was he walking away? What did he mean by perfect? Is he walking over with one of those jars right now? Lord, you should've followed the trumpets you thought. And then the giggle came in. Like a wrecking ball to the heart, the man let out a sound of excitement and happiness. The confusion that writhed through you at this moment was unparalleled by anything experienced by anyone before. Not only are you dead but now you have some sort of weird mortician, handsome, but weird on your hands.

He came back, his arms full of the organ jars from the shelves. "Y'know some of your own should suffice for this little experiment but I always tend to keep extras…", he said this in haste as he set up a plethora of equipment around your body. For what it's worth you could listen to him talk about whatever nonsense he was on about for hours.

"I always was a fan of Frankenstein. It inspired me to do this profession, actually. I know strange but even stranger is my need for you at this moment. Sorry. Not in that way, not in a disrespectful manner at all if I am being forward. But your circumstance saddened me and well- it does not help that you are so beautiful. AH! I am getting ahead of myself. I must wait until I know that you are here and that you are mine, y/n. Forgive my rudeness."

He was frazzled and all over the place. His speech was punctuated by heavy breaths and before you can even begin to process his mess of words he is discarding the protective gear. The only things he thinks worth keeping on being his apron and gloves.

In the corner, although you cannot see it from this angle, sits a computer. Mingyu weaves around wires to get to it. His fingers work at a fast pace as he types. "I knew it. It's all just perfect. It truly is. I could just jump with joy!". Mingyu had confirmed his suspicions or rather confirmed if his memory was correct. There was a chance for a storm tonight and everything just kept lining up for him. As if a gift from god themself here you are, there the storm is, and here's Mingyu ready to conduct a risky experiment, one that he's been building up in his head for years, one that he honestly did not think would happen within his lifetime. It was just a hobby, a thing not meant to occur, and more than that it was probably illegal.

But he didn't care. He just knew, a gut instinct if you will, that you were the one. The person he was meant to be with. Love at first sight some might call it, he sure thinks it is anyway.

Hours passed as he continued with his ministrations of gathering items and setting them up. The sun began to set and Mingyu's confidence rose. The table where you lay was wheeled into the middle of the room, you hadn't noticed it before but there was a skylight in the ceiling. A large one at that. He centered you as best he could to match the opening and began to dig metal hooks into your skin at different points. Although gruesome in my wording these punctures did not hurt you. They felt like a pinch to the skin that left nothing in the way of actual pain.

He hummed and smiled as he went about this work. The last thing he did as he began to hear the pitter-patter of rain outside was give you another once over. His eyes were at their most intense. Taking great care in making sure all of your details were perfect. Fixing your hair in the way the picture he had of you instructed, moving your hands to be at your navel, and stretching out your joints which had been effected by rigor mortis many hours prior.

"Perfect. Really and truly." he tried to calm himself of the adrenaline rush that had been keeping him on his feet the entire time. He sat on the rolling stool near the computer using his feet to make his way towards you once again. From a lower angle, you could just barely see his figure from here. He gathered himself and a sad look overtook his face.

"God, what are you doing Mingyu? This is crazy. The probability is so so so low. And look at you. Sat here in front of the most enchanting person you've ever met and they're dead… If this doesn't work then what? I give up on love? I try to date again? Knowing that no one has set my heart ablaze so immediately as the one before me now? No. If this does not work I will just have to admit myself. This would be the heartbreak to define my life." He took in a big breath before allowing it to leave his lungs completely empty. He took off his gloves and rolled his sweaty palms along the length of his thighs.

"I have gotten this far, it is time."

Rolling thunder shattered through the night sky. Mingyu began to pull a chain and the skylight opened. Droplets of water started to saturate your skin. He turned his attention to the computer bringing up some program that allowed him to control the various devices he had set up. The whirring of machinery is all you can hear as he sets lighting rods to lift up at the top of the mortuary.

A crack of thunder whips through the air. 1…2…3…Then the lightning scorched its bright head in the sky. The storm kicked up, your body was at this point soaked in rainwater as the shallow table tried its best to keep the surface tension of the water at bay. WRSHKKK the thunder once again, 1…2…The lightning seemed all the more close as it flashed before your eyes.

Then time stood still, what was nothing but seconds stretched until you were almost sure you were outside of space and time. The water hits your face, seeping into your eyes because you cannot close them. Your view only being the sky but what you heard could bring you tears, thankfully the rain allowed your face to communicate your emotional intent as beads fell from your eyes like the statue of Mary. Amongst the chaos of the storm, a chant-like prayer is whispered as Mingyu makes his towards you in strides. Standing at your head, towering over you, he leans down and with the gentleness of a man defined by love that makes him soft, his lips graze your forehead as he says "Please y/n, please." repeatedly finishing each prayer with a peck to your cold, wet skin.

KRSHHK the thunder growled with ferocity, 1…The lightning finally answered the plea.

A forceful blast flung Mingyu back, leaving him to hold onto the counter behind him. Every device alight as electricity surged through their wires, all of them leading to you in a maze of information and metal.

And as that energy reached your body you were enraptured in pain and ecstasy and every single physical feeling a human could possibly feel. As if you were being held gently while needles pierced your nerves, like floating on a cloud of cotton as you were being burnt alive. Every sensation came online all at once and it was exhilarating. The rain on your skin felt cold and burning. Your soul and body finally connect with existential bliss as they reunite. You felt everything.

Then your lungs finally filled with air. Your chest began to heave as your heart caught up to the fact that you were here again. Blood coursed through your veins and warmed your skin.

With a jolt you were alive and awake.

…And also falling off the table.

A/N: It's out! I really do hope you all enjoy the weirdness that is this fic. I tried my best to not be too descriptive with the details of death and the body, trying to focus more on the emotional than anything. Let me know what you think and please reblog if you liked it and would like to see more!

{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for this series please let me know!!}

[oakenshieldbaggins]

xedgin fic rec list

so because i binge read a ton of fics these last two months, i thought why not make a rec list if it can help people find out great fics.

i just wanted to say i came across so many good fics, like comparing to other fandoms i find the overall quality to be quite high. so what i'm trying to say is you guys are really talented and we're lucky to have you in this fandom. and thank you for sharing your work.

now the recs:

Post-Movie:

Three words everybody knows by violet_pencil

Speaking the words of an oath isn't what makes you a good paladin, and knowing how to tell lies is only part of what makes a great con man. Where do they find common ground? Well, turns out they both know how to commit to the bit.

Sunlight is a Kind of Burning by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Ed's excited to get his life back on track in the wake of saving Neverwinter. He's less excited at how a certain paladin keeps popping up everywhere he goes. Except for how he's starting to miss the guy when he's not around. Yeah, let's not think about that too hard.

a ballad from a reverie by forsworn

On a cold evening, the party stop to drink at a crowded tavern. Xenk tries to ignore the way his chest tightens when Edgin squeezes close to him. But that gets much harder when the tavern's bard starts singing a love song. About a paladin. And Edgin seems to recognise it…

tys hard to be a seinte in the cytie by indigostohelit

“The Material Planes are not realms of punishment,” said Xenk. “The gods no more deny us the warmth of physical pleasure than they would the warmth of the sun. They only warn us, through each, of the dangers that lie in excess.” “…Huh,” said Ed again, and, lacking further retort, grabbed up the new tankard and swigged deeply. Then he spat it across the bar. “This is water, though,” said Xenk peacefully. “You are going to have a hangover in the morning.”

Universal Glue by Korwwa

Edgin and Xenk get stuck in a glue trap. The close-quarters situation forces Edgin to decide if succumbing to the charms of certain overpowered paladin is more likely to ruin, or elevate, the plan of his life.

Polyphonic by Geese_In_Flight

Ed can’t stand Xenk. Xenk keeps showing up anyway. It’s not entirely clear how that became everyone else’s problem.

Muses lost and found anew by Mikhail

Edgin Darvis never considered himself to be a hero. Of course, he was full of dreams and ideals back when he was still young. He wanted to save the world. But the world, as it turned out, didn’t really want to be saved. Instead, it barged into Edgin’s life uninvited and made him a widower, a thief, and an escaped convict. As he was looking back at his life and naivete, he couldn’t feel but contempt and bitterness. That is until he crossed paths with Xenk Yendar, a paladin whose sword was only nearly as strong as his righteousness. Confronted with Xenk’s tragic past, the bard realized they were both touched by the same evil. Before he could dwell on some uncomfortable truths, however, Xenk disappeared from his life just as suddenly as he first appeared. When they meet for the second time, it’s clear the two of them have much more in common than they first thought. Well, it’s clear to everyone except for them. The question is, are they going to realize this before it’s too late?

in the absence of truth by floralprintshark

Five times Ed says that he hates Xenk and one time he doesn't.

Perception Check (Roll for Romance) by kaydeefalls

"I bet Xenk fucks like a metronome, too. You know." Holga makes a highly suggestive, repetitive gesture. "In, out. In, out. No variation. Same exact rhythm every time. Boring." Edgin stares at her, torn between horror and fascination. "You've really thought about this, huh?" (So has he. Unfortunately.)

give me two damn minutes (and I'll be fine) by PH03N1X_360

Xenk Yendar is a hero. It’s his job, his identity, his [life]. It comes as easily as breathing. Saving children, fighting hordes of undead, it’s always come naturally to him. As each new challenge arises, people look to him to protect them. The warmth of their gazes never fail to fill him with pride. No matter how many scars he acquires, how many nights the horrors of his past rouse him from sleep, or how many people he fails to save in the process, it is always worth the price. Yet sometimes, when the darkness around him feels too oppressive and tight bandages make his bones ache, he wonders how much more he can take before he cracks under the pressure. Or: Xenk sees the Beckoning Death spell from afar. Even upon realizing the party took care of it, it still fucks him over severely... not that he would show it. Edgin knows a mask when he sees one.

Falling For The First Time by Powderpuff

In retrospect, falling in love with Edgin was inevitable. There was no recourse for Xenk; no guild nor court to appeal to, and even Ilmater could not return his property to him, nor Ed himself; for you cannot return something you do not know you have.

O happy dagger! This is thy sheath by Kabbal (Aledane)

"Ed wants to bash his face in with his lute, just to shatter that perfect, flawless skin, see if there’s flesh and blood running under that pristine marble. He wants to flee to the end of the world, to never be reminded of the existence of a being who seems to never have failed at anything, ever. He also wants to crush his lips against his, cling to that steady neck and feel the weight of all that perfection over him, spearing him like it could make him holy‒ Hm. Strange thought to have. Let’s forget it ever existed."

Affection and Love by AkataLily

Edgin is affectionate towards Xenk. Not love, affectionate, because those are two very different things! Xenk is oblivious and uninterested, that is, until Edgin fucks up and the cat is suddenly out of the bag. Things get akward, then they get complicated, but eventually, we all have to admit what goes on in our hearts.

Winning Prizes for Rotten Judgment by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

In which Ed admits he's in love with Xenk, woos Xenk, and sleeps with Xenk, all in completely the wrong order. To be fair, it's only half his fault.

keystone by weatheredlaw

key·stone noun | a central stone at the summit of an arch, locking the pieces together. or: edgin dies, but there's magic for that. holga and xenk make good on a thirty-five year old favor to bring him back from the other side.

So Deep As the Love I'm In by Geese_In_Flight

Holga takes a step forward and claps Ed on the shoulder sympathetically, which is a terrible sign. “Swept you right off your feet, did he?” she asks, with a grin. Five times Xenk courted Ed, and one time Ed decided to take matters into his own hands.

the weight of fingers pressing deep by forsworn

When Xenk slips his fingers into Edgin's mouth during sex, they're both surprised by how good it feels.

you'll find us in the meadowland by audenrain

He was standing at Xenk’s desk, tucked into the corner and lined by shelves stacked with holy texts. Not his most valuable, of course - he wouldn’t be so careless as to keep the most precious of his collection here - but any one of them would feed a hungry man for a few days, at least. And yet this man wasn’t hungry, and he was no ordinary thief. Xenk judged this not only by the strong slope of his shoulders and broad back and the fine weave of his coat but also by the fact that he had recently been awarded the highest honours the Lord of Neverwinter could bestow. No, Edgin could want for nothing; even he could not have spent his rewards so quickly. There was only one explanation. This was an affliction of the soul.

To Touch The Divine by New1Romantic

Xenk asks for Edgin's help to retrieve an evil artefact from a cult. The fact that the cult is definitely just a front for the elite of Waterdeep to have kinky sex is, presumably, just happenstance.

Freely given (Wanted) by sb_essebi

Ed can’t. He can’t anymore. Can’t take the fervour in Xenk’s words, the shine in his eyes, the way the light of the sunset plays across his skin. He’s just so beautiful at sunset, Xenk. He is. To the point of unfairness, to the point it makes Ed almost angry, makes him want to cry, to scream. Ed kisses him. Or: Ed steals a kiss. Xenk shows him why he needn't have.

Edgin Needs to Get Laid and Edgin Gets Laid by Isoltan

There was a pause. "And that's when you started the one night stands," Holga said, only a hint of a question in her voice. Xenk raised his tankard in her direction and took a long swig. "You have sexual desire?" Simon asked. Doric turned to him and exploded, "Jesus, do you ever think before you speak?" "Tell the truth, you thought he was celibate too. Edgin sure did!" Simon said, gesturing to Edgin. "Hey, leave me out of this," Edgin said. "Exactly!" Simon continued. "Tell me, out of the two of them, you'd have pegged Edgin as the celibate and XENK as the whore!" -----------‐ Very loose f*ck-or-die fic. Basically, Edgin's magic needs to improve and the group decides he needs to get laid. But he reveals he's demi and can only be intimate with people he trusts. This was meant to be a one-off but I got caught up with the group's banter.

this distance between us by forsworn

Xenk and Edgin have to share a bed. It’s not even a big bed. The perfect time for Xenk to have a nightmare…

Origin Point series by Neyiea

“It wasn’t a risk. I knew that if I jumped you would catch me.” Xenk’s pinched expression becomes thoughtful, then turns serious. “I see,” he intones solemnly. “I am honored to have earned your trust.”

close to the skin by forsworn

Edgin's going undercover; Xenk's determined to make him look respectable. But Edgin finds submitting to a flat-razor shaving at those steady hands to be far more intense than he expected.

Solitary Burdens by cupiscent

Edgin's wife died years ago, but he's only just now letting go. He can't talk about it with any of the others, but Xenk - aggravatingly - understands. Perhaps neither of them need to carry these burdens alone.

in for a silver by weatheredlaw

Edgin was, at the very least, two things: a great kisser, and a phenomenal liar. or: xenk gets hit by something weird in the jungle. edgin lends a hand.

Canon Divergence (happens during the movie):

We Are So (Not) Breaking Up by murdertrashbabyrat

Edgin isn’t mad because of the idea of a kind Thayan, he’s mad because it’s Xenk Yendar his lightly insufferable not-ex. They didn’t break up because they were never together thank you very much Holga, so Xenk is his…his something that isn’t his anymore. It’s fine he’s not dwelling on it he has to get his wife back and stop thinking about the man he’s been sharing a bed with for years. Denial is a hell of a drug OR they are exes when they meet up again in the movie

AUs:

A Cherry When It's Blooming by Geese_In_Flight

Lord Yendar, once a paladin of Ilmater, has been called back to Waterdeep in the aftermath of his father’s death. Upon his arrival, he discovers he must reckon with an untrustworthy executor, an estate in shambles, and a wholly unexpected stipulation in his father’s will. Edgin Darvis is trying to find the one big score that will let him build back a life that went off the rails years ago. When he hears the rumors that a young and inexperienced Lord Yendar has come back to town, he knows just what he has to do.

Romance in the time of LoveChat by cicia3

What's worse than being a loser writer reduced to releasing third-rate romance novels for Forge Publishing? Being an uninspired writer with three months' back rent to pay. Driven by desperation, Edgin, a single father who's also perhaps juuust a tad too much anchored in the past, signs up on the nation's largest dating site. The goal? To find a character unique enough to inspire him for his new novel. And then Xenk Yendar shows up.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 11

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.

5.2k words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10)

Working for Family Video came with many upsides, especially when you worked with people who you also enjoyed seeing outside of the store. Rentals were already dirt cheap with your employee discount, and near expired candy and popcorn never quite made it into the dumpster out back and somehow magically appeared in your bag instead at the end of your shift. 

You always liked to think that Family Video was sponsoring your bi-monthly movie nights with Steve and Robin. The Harrington household was always the meeting spot, as he was the only one who had a tv and VCR in his room. Well, you did as well now after Keith had tossed out an old player, saying it was broken. You’d brought it home to tinker with and found that some kid had stuck gum in the tape slot. It had taken you a week to clean and another month to figure out how to hook everything back up, but it was yours. Steve still had the nicer home and tv though, and more importantly his parents bought brand name snacks. 

The three of you were in Steve’s living room, the movie playing on the screen long forgotten as the three of you caught up with each other. Robin was usually the barometer for if a movie was worth watching, she and Steve might have had very different tastes, but Steve would usually get sucked up into whatever movie she chose. 

“So is his band any good?” Robin asked, dumping a bag of m&ms into her bowl of popcorn. 

“I think so.” you shrugged, cracking open a drink. “If anything, they’re good enough to be scouted twice.”

“By the same person.” Steve pointed out. “You know, his ex.” 

You had brought the news of Eddie’s meet up with Paige to your friends with mixed results. Robin seemed indifferent, but that’s because most of the time she didn’t have the same interest in talking about boys. Steve, however, seemed less than thrilled about this idea. 

“Yes, Steve, his ex. As in, not together anymore.” you sighed, wishing you felt as confident as you sounded. “Whatever happened between them sounded like it blew up for both of them.”

“But she still wants to have lunch with him!” Steve said. 

“Yes, to talk about the band!” you shot back. “And it’s lunch. Didn’t you tell me that dinner is a date and lunch is just two people hanging out?” 

“Since when does my advice apply to you or Eddie?”

“Since Paige isn’t me or Eddie, so your dating advice might actually apply here.” you snapped and took a breath. “Sorry. This is all new to me. I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s like every time things start to go well with me and Eddie, something happens. Paige, Chris, you-”

“Hey-”

“I like him a lot.” You leaned back against the couch, grabbing the popcorn bowl from Robin. “When I’m with him, I get that same feeling that I do when I’m hanging out with you two or when I’m at the show every month. I don’t feel like I’m hiding myself when he’s around.”

“There are other weirdos and freaks around.” Steve pointed out. “If I had known there were that many of you around, I would have agreed to go to the show earlier to help you get phone numbers.” 

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she looks when she’s talking about Eddie?” Robin hopped into the conversation. “I don’t think anyone even existed to her that night.”

It was true, no one other than your friends and (unfortunately) Chris had truly registered to you at the show. Yeah, you’d noticed the few cast members but they weren’t the metal head with the long hair and crop top that had held your hand all night.

“Oh shit, did I tell you guys that we ran into Chris?!” You asked suddenly, changing the subject. 

“Wait, that guy you and Eddie kept talking shit about?” Steve turned to look at you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and getting crumbs on the couch.

“Yeah!” you said. “He actually works for the show now, I guess? He said he’s been there for a while and he’s seen me at the show before. It was so fucking weird.”

“Is that the guy who said you were too normal to play with Hellfire?” Robin asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, and he ran Hellfire into the ground until Eddie took over. And now he’s doing tech for the show. Also, he was Rocky in the shadow cast.”

“The guy in the metallic shorts?!” Steve gawked. 

“Columbia did say that the cast changed for the night.” Robin said, and you gave her a quizzical look, remembering the lipstick mark you’d seen on her jaw that night. “She came by and talked to us before the show!” 

“She couldn’t resist my charm.” Steve gave you a smile that you were sure worked with someone like Nancy Wheeler, or Tammy Thompson. You just shook your head and laughed. 

“Right, anyway. Chris came and talked to us after the show and he told me auditions are gonna be open for the cast. He gave me his card, and told me that it was invite only.” you explained.

“You’ve been talking about wanting to be part of that since we started working together.” Steve said. 

“Yeah, I guess I get a shot to do something, too.” 

“Chris turned you down for Hellfire, and now is letting you audition?” Robin asked. 

“We aren’t in school anymore.” you pointed out. “I know how it sounds, but none of us are the same people we were back then. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, none of us are.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.” 

“I’m just saying that if I can give you the benefit of the doubt and make friends with you then maybe Chris isn’t as big of a prick as he was back then. I might not have even given Eddie a chance, either.” You picked out a few m&ms from the popcorn bucket, getting your fingers covered with butter and colored candy coating. “I mean, at the end of the day, isn't that what this whole deal was about? Shaking off old habits and trying to step outside of contentment?”

“I thought your deal was so that you can stop having Steve check you out every time you wanted to rent porn.” Robin snickered. 

“I thought we were just trying to get dates.” Steve looked confused and you gave him a pat on the head. It always amused you how his hair could spring back into place like that.

“That too.” you said. 

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie going to see his ex?” Steve said, forcing you back into that topic. 

”I’m not thrilled about it.” You finally admitted. “But we only went on one date and this might help his band. Besides, if we start... Whatever this is without some sort of trust then is it even worth starting?”

“So you trust him?” 

“I trust you and Dustin, who vouched for him. He was honest enough to tell me that it’s his ex who wants to talk about his band. What happens next is up to him.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Steve relented and his eyes wandered back to the tv. 

You didn’t, but you were tired of letting other people tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. 

Ever since Benny’s shut down, there wasn’t really any good place to meet up with someone for lunch in town. Every time he had seen Paige before, it had either been at the Hideout, or his van. Neither of which was really a good place to talk about Corroded Coffin. 

It was Paige’s idea to meet at the small hole-in-the-wall pub that was just out of Eddie’s comfort zone in terms of price. Eddie arrived on Saturday afternoon, earlier than he meant to with his nerves. He leaned against the wall outside of the pub, watched the cars go by as he waited for her. 

She didn’t leave him waiting for long, and ten minutes before their agreed upon time, Paige was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years. She hadn’t grown an inch, but her wavy dark hair had, and now barely brushed her shoulders. In the daylight, Eddie could see a faint tint of red that he never noticed before. Other than two or three times, he realized that he and Paige had never spent a lot of time together when the sun was out. Paige’s freckles were as prominent as ever. 

To Eddie’s surprise, she looked happy to see him. 

“Hi, Eddie.” she said, and to his relief she didn’t go in for a hug. 

“Hi, Paige.” He responded and reached over to open the door to the pub for her. 

The two didn’t say anything until they were sitting at a dimly lit booth in the corner, where Paige broke the ice. 

“Before we get into any business talk, I need you to be honest with me.” She started, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “If you care about your future in music, and your band, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me how you ended up in jail two days before the most important moment in either of our careers.” 

Eddie had expected this, and the past week had been spent trying to find a way to spin the story so that he didn’t look like the biggest asshole on the planet. In the end, he decided that he should be honest with her. Paige wanted real, and he would give that to her, tarnish and all.

Someone came by and took their drink orders, giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“I did something stupid.” He started. 

“Obviously.” She gave him a wry smile. 

“Moving to California isn’t cheap.” He watched the tone of his voice, searching for that piece of him that made Hellfire and Corroded Coffin listen to him. Being a dungeon master for so long had given him a way of speaking that could draw someone in when he tried, and right now he knew he needed to try and convince Paige that Corroded Coffin deserved a second chance. “I needed a way to pay for everything that came with moving across country. My dad... he-” Eddie’s voice wavered for a brief moment. “He had an idea to make some quick cash for the two of us. It wasn’t smart, and it really wasn’t legal.”

“Jesus,” Paige sighed, looking at him with a deep frown. “I would have helped you, Eddie. I was already willing to let you live with me for free until we got you set up. I told you that you didn’t have to be alone in this.” 

Asking for and accepting help wasn’t something that Eddie was ever good at. He’d been hyper-independent since he was a child, when his dad would disappear for long stretches of time, even after his mom died. Asking for help after (or especially because) Paige had put in so much money and effort for him already, wasn’t something that he could bring himself to do. 

“I know.” Eddie said. “I had this stupid idea that if I didn’t make the effort on my own, then I didn’t deserve the change. So I did something stupid, really fucking stupid, and it cost me everything.”

“Mark told me that you shot a cop.” Paige said, and before Eddie could speak up, she continued. “I didn’t believe him. When I wired the money, I was able to get an idea of what happened. You saved that guys life.” 

“I couldn’t let him just bleed out on my yard.” Eddie said. “I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be right to run away like that.” 

“You really caused a lot of trouble, you know that?” 

“I know.” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I did a lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have, and I paid the price. It cost me more than just the audition.”

There was a time between getting the news about his audition with WR Records and the heist that Eddie flew. He had everything he had ever wanted; he got the girl, had his dad back, he had a future, which was something he never thought he’d have. For a few beautiful weeks, he had spiraled up, up, and up. 

In the end though, what goes up must come down. Eddie had reached for something that would never be meant for someone with the last name ‘Munson’. He had crashed back down to earth, to the reality of who he was and it had cost him everything. His dad, his childhood house, his audition, Paige, and even Ronnie for a short time. 

For the next two years, Eddie swore to never even think about reaching for the sun again. 

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Paige said. “I still think you’re an asshole.”

“I was an asshole.” He didn’t even try to fight it. “The biggest one in Hawkins.”

Even with her declaration, Paige still had a look on her face that was the ghost of an expression she had in the passenger side of his van on the night that she had given him the news that WR Records had liked him. 

“Things went downhill for me when you bailed on the audition.” Paige said, and Eddie swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He had never known what had happened with her after their fight over the phone. “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Davey doesn’t like anyone, but he liked you. When I couldn’t get you out there, it really screwed up any trust I had with my job.”

She stopped talking for a moment as a waiter came by and dropped off their food. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to touch the overpriced sandwich in front of him yet. His mouth felt dry and he reached for his water instead. 

“I was stuck in a dead end job, where any talent I tried to bring to the label was shot down without being given a chance. I was being paid to do nothing, except babysit the studio and paperwork.  I got demoted, and I was already at the bottom of the totem pole.” Paige never looked away from Eddie, her gaze unflinching and sharp. “I stopped liking music.”

Guilt washed over Eddie, and there was something in him that screamed at him to run away to avoid this. Being the reason someone stopped liking music? He knew he’d fucked up but that... that was something deeper than just missing an audition. 

“They didn’t have the means to really fire me, I hadn’t done anything wrong.” she continued. “They moved me to a smaller label under the WR name. That label was where acts they had given up on went to die.”

“Which label?” Eddie managed to ask, despite how dry his mouth felt. Even the water wasn’t helping. 

“Left Turn Media.” Paige said. 

During those weeks when things had been good between the two of them, Paige had mentioned the label once or twice. It was considered a death sentence to be put on that label, and working for them was WR’s way to get people to quit without firing them. The two had listened to a few cassettes from the label. The bands weren’t bad, and that was what stuck out to Eddie. The music wasn’t bad, but it was clear that the production was lacking and half-assed. Paige said that the music would be sent out to small radio stations to be played in the middle of the night. 

“Shit.” Eddie said. 

“Yeah, shit.” Paige let out a laugh. “But if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn. I threw myself into my work. I’ve been spending the last two years breaking down and completely reassembling Left Turn, and now I’m in charge of it.”

“You.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “You’re in charge of Left Turn Media.”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you’re pissed and have something to prove.” Paige shrugged. “I had a lot of time to think about my relationship with music in the last few years. I realized if I wanted to bring something real to the music scene of L.A. I was going to have to do it myself.”

Her dark lips curled up into a smile. “I should almost thank you for fucking up. Because you bailed, I was put in charge of a sinking ship. I patched it up with my own time and money and now Left Turn has become the label for all misfit bands who don’t fit any shiny polished label. I proved to myself and everyone around me that I belong in this industry.”

“I-” Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. “You’re welcome...?”

“We’re expanding the label outside of California.” She continued. “I’m in charge so I’m trying to bring good music to my hometown. It’s still not the biggest label, and we can’t offer half of what the bigger labels would, but it’s something.”

“And what are you offering?” Eddie felt dizzy, the more she talked. His words were careful, as if asking the wrong question could end in another blow up between the two of them. 

“What I’m offering is another chance for Corroded Coffin to be signed.” Paige’s arms crossed over her chest. “Left Turn is still finding its footing outside of L.A., so we’re flexible. I’m here to work with local radio and college stations around Indiana to get them to play the few bands we’ve signed so far. Who we have are okay, but they aren’t...”

“Real?” 

“Eddie you have something, as much as I never wanted to admit it again after what happened between us. There’s something about the way that you play that I haven’t been able to find since. I could do this without you, but I think that this is the real sink or swim moment. WR Records goes on with or without you, but I think what you have is what could turn Left Turn around.” Page took a deep breath. “If Corroded Coffin wants another shot, this would be it. If you still have that do-or-die energy when you play, I could offer you a real deal to put together an album. I could get you on the radio.”

Eddie listened to her words, taking in what she was offering. Yes, it wouldn’t be the easy street that WR would have been able to offer, but it would be something. And this time, it wouldn’t just be him auditioning, but Corroded Coffin was wanted this time. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, his heart rate picking up. 

“As serious as shooting a cop.” 

“Jesus.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his fringe as he replayed everything that Paige had just told him in his mind. She wanted him to audition again. This was a chance that he wasn’t sure could be passed up. 

“Some of the band is still in high school.” He said, feeling reality settle like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t mention that his name was on that roster. 

“Like I said, we’re flexible.” Paige said. “I still need you all to audition again, and even then it’s going to take me a few months to set anything up here for the band. I want you all to audition with me and a few others from the label before the end of the year. If everything goes according to plan, Left Turn might have the recording studio ready by next June.” 

“You’re setting up your own recording studio?” Eddie perked up, the anxiety and guilt that he had originally felt was now shifting into something new. He found himself relaxing enough to eat his overpriced sandwich. 

“Yes. We need something that’s a step above Live Mike Studios in Lafayette. We have the building picked out and are already gutting it for Left Turn.” 

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Eddie smiled at her. 

“I have.” Paige agreed. “But I learned not to put all my eggs into one basket. This industry has taught me to have a plan A, B C, and D.” She let out a long sigh. “I made it to plan L before and I would prefer not to do that again.” 

“What was plan L?” 

“If I go into the whole story, I’ll need a strong drink. It involved a guitar player with his head up his ass thinking he was going to be the next Gene Simmons.” Paige groaned. 

“Gene Simmons doesn’t play guitar.” Eddie pointed out. Paige gave him a thousand yard stare, which said everything he needed to know. “Ok. Gotcha.” 

“I’m hoping to get everything set up with minimal surprises.” She concluded. “Get with your band. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the year setting things up.”

Eddie nodded. “So... why Indiana?” he asked. “You were in California. Why come back here to set this up?”

“Like I said, I want to bring good music to my hometown. Once everything’s done, I’ll be able to move back and forth from California to here.”

“And Corroded Coffin?”

“Will stay in Indiana.” She said firmly. “I can’t turn you into the Rock Hero you could have been two years ago, but I can try and make you a Hometown Hero.”

Another story. Paige had always been good at spinning stories. Once upon a time, Eddie had been a barback turned frontman turned Rock Hero. Now he’d be barback turned frontman turned Hometown Hero. That part felt less believable than before. 

That’s how Paige saw him, but how did he see himself? Barback turned front man turned drug thief turned drug dealer turned uber senior? None of that was a story worth selling. And what about the rest of his band? Would Gareth, Jeff, or Zack want to be part of this? Ronnie hadn’t, she just wanted to play just to play. Jeff had been excited about this when the opportunity was first presented, but would he still want the chance? Gareth was the youngest and still had over a year of school left. 

One thing at a time. 

“I’ll talk to the guys next practice.” Eddie said. 

“Good. Are you still playing at the Hideout?” Paige asked. 

Eddie froze for a second, as he imagined Paige and you in the same space to watch him play. He imagined your excited face, and the way you would cheer for them after every song, the excitement that radiated off of you after every set. Even earlier this week, when you’d dropped by to watch them, knowing that Eddie was going to see Paige, you’d still shown the same enthusiasm as before. 

He’d thrown you another pick. You’d handed it back to him at the end of the night, telling him that he could toss it at you again next week. 

“You look like someone who loses your picks the second they are out of your sight.”

You’d been right. The only one he could consistently find was the one he’d turned into a necklace. His dad’s picks had been packed away, shoved under his bed where he wouldn’t see them. Eddie didn’t use those picks anymore. 

A few weeks ago, he couldn’t stop comparing you to Paige, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how different you two were. 

“Yeah, we play on Tuesdays now.” Eddie said. “People stopped complaining enough that Bev decided to give us a steady slot.”

“Good to know.” Paige said. She wasn’t confirming or denying if she’d show up, but that look in her eyes said that he could expect to see her again soon. 

After all, The Hideout was the only place in twenty miles of Hawkins that offered any live music. 

For the rest of the meal, the two caught up with each other. It didn’t feel as weird as Eddie would have expected, but it was nice. He let Paige do most of the talking, letting her tell him about her work in the industry, he didn’t need her knowing more than she needed to if he wanted to have this shot. Would she want to sign a bunch of high schoolers? He hadn’t even told Paige the first time that he had dropped out when Higgins blackmailed him. 

That was alright for now though. Paige talking meant that he didn’t have to and he added to the conversation by asking plenty of questions about her work. Hearing about the music industry from her end was something that he had a genuine interest in, anyway. 

Paige told him about how she had been given a copy of Iron’s Maiden’s Live After Death by Davey. She was even willing to make Eddie a copy of it. It wasn’t the video, but he wasn’t about to turn down audio of one of his favorite bands that wasn’t even released in the US. 

When the check came, Paige didn’t even blink as she paid the tab and the two of them made their way outside again. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, and the chill of the late autumn air contrasted the bright blue sky.

Trying to still be somewhat of a gentleman, Eddie walked Paige to her car as she recounted the tale of how she had been on the flight from Indianapolis to Los Angeles where Izzy Stradlin had been arrested for pissing in front of everyone.

Paige stopped with her hand on the door to her car before turning around to face Eddie before getting in. 

“I don’t hate you, you know.” she said. “I was mad for a really long time at what you did. But I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t feel like he deserved the forgiveness she was offering him. Being told that he was anything other than some satanic cult leader or freak wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.  

“Paige I...” He wasn’t sure what to say. 

She had that look in her eyes, the same look she’d had after she’d given him the news about his original audition. What are you waiting for? Paige was moving closer, freckles like constellations on her skin and the moon in her eyes eclipsed by her eyelids. 

Eddie's hand fell on Paige’s shoulder before her lips could get any closer to his. “I can’t.” he said. 

Her face went through a few emotions. Surprise, disappointment, and settling on embarrassment. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Paige said, shaking her head. 

“No it’s.. It’s fine.” Eddie said, and he could have sworn that Paige looked just as confused as he did. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to do.... That.” 

Eddie hadn’t once entertained the idea of Paige and him together again. It didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t find her attractive, but it wasn’t the same feeling he got that first night in the Hideout. As a teen, he’d been thrilled that a pretty girl was paying any attention to him at all, and was willing to do anything and be anything she wanted. 

Any relationship with Paige was business, plain and simple. She wanted a Rock Hero to help her get up the ladder, Eddie wanted to make it with his band. Sex had just been a bonus in their past relationship. Paige knew her stuff with music and the industry, but she didn’t rant about Ozzy and his bats, or have a real interest in D&D or put herself out there the same way that you- 

“I’m seeing someone.” He blurted out before Paige could say anything else. 

Paige looked surprised for a moment and shook her head and laughed. “Right. That... I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” she admitted. “I guess I got swept up in this stupid fantasy about being a power couple. We’re a bad idea.” 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, not sure what else could be said in this situation. 

“Don’t be. You’re right, ‘us’ is a bad idea.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good thing my offer isn’t dependent on if we’re sleeping together or not.”

“I know you bought me lunch, are giving my band a second chance, and forgave me for one of the biggest fuck ups of my life, but I don’t put out that easy.” Eddie smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige offered her hand and Eddie took it. “Business only then.” she said. “Talk to your band and call me to set up the audition.” 

Eddie watched Paige’s car drive off, and suddenly felt a lot lighter. He blasted his music and drove home, nearly laughing like a maniac. Today had been a wild roller coaster of emotions, and he couldn’t wait until the next band practice to bring the news to his band. 

At home, he grabbed his guitar and immediately began sorting through Corroded Coffin’s small pile of original songs, and the covers that they were able to perform the best. Eddie was off, lost in his own world as he wrote, re-wrote, and re-worked the set list. 

What would you think? Would you be excited for him? If this worked, he was going to make sure to get you concert tickets. Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you could at least come for the audition as moral support. His band liked you, so maybe they wouldn’t mind. 

Eddie didn’t come back down to Earth until the phone rang that evening after Wayne went to work. He almost missed the call because of how deep he was into perfecting the riff that had eluded him for the past few months, determined now more than ever to get it down. 

He reached the phone on the last possible ring. “Hello?”

“Hey... Eddie?” Your voice cracked over the phone, and that feeling of excitement came crashing down. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.” 

You were crying. He could hear it in the way your voice strained and cracked. He was already reaching for his keys. 

“I’ll be right there.”  

a/n: As I stated before, I do like to try and keep everything as time accurate as possible. However things happen, and sometimes things are too good not to use. The Izzy Stradlin incident did not happen until 1989, but the fact that it was on a flight from Indianapolis to LA was too good to pass up. I also would like to notate that I did make a mistake when it came to the Ozzy Bat Incident. It was not a 17 year old girl, it was a 17 year old boy and the bat was already dead. Chalk that inaccuracy up to the tabloids of the time, and the lack of Google. No, this will not be addressed in the future of the fic unless it’s funny. 

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288 @sheneedsrocknroll92

[petalsscribbles]

22. marry me (again)

It's a starry evening, not a cloud covering the Moon or countless stars illuminating this special night. Yn constantly checks his watch, he lost count how many but it's gotta be over 50 times for sure.

"Is everything okay dear?" Jay asks, sitting across Yn at a beautifully set up table with their dinner cooked by a famous personal chef.

"Yes, of course." He reassures but Jay doesn't seem much relieved. "Why do you ask?"

"You've been acting strangely these past few days. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Goddamnit. Yn knew he wasn't exactly slick no matter how hard he tried and Jay is unfortunately very observant.

"I promise you, everything's fine, love." Yn repeats. Jay gives him an unconvinced smile and doesn't press further.

Yn checks his watch once again. It's 19:58. The fireworks should start any minute now.

"I have a surprise for you." He says and Jay stares at him, still chewing on the last piece of steak.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Come with me."

They get up from the table and head towards the railing of the yacht. Just then fireworks start in the distance. Colors explode in the sky and reflect in Jay's dark brown eyes. Jay stares at it like a little kid, mouth a little open. Yn uses his trance to quietly take a few steps back and get on one knee, patiently waiting for Jay to notice.

Only a minute later Jay turns to talk to him though finding no one by his side. His eyes search and fall upon his kneeling husband, holding out a red box with a simple golden ring.

"Yn what is this?" He breathes, frozen.

"Our wedding day was beautiful and I wouldn't have it any other way, but to you and me, it wasn't real, it wasn't out of love. But now that has changed. I love you, I love you so much and I want to get married as a man who wants to, not a man who has to marry you. So what do you think? Will you marry me? Again?"

A beat of silence.

Then two.

"I think I'm gonna pass out." Jay says honestly.

"Can you say yes first?"

"Oh my God, of course I'll say yes! I'd marry you a thousand times over."

"Jay we're not that rich." Yn jokes as he stands up and puts the engagement ring on Jay's finger.

"Oh shut up and kiss me, you moron."

The kiss is loving, giggles of happiness bubbling whenever they pull apart.

"I'm so lucky I have you in my life." Jay whispers as he hugs Yn tightly.

"I think you'll change your mind when you hear my wedding vow." Yn answers, returning Jay's tight embrace.

"No. Not even the worst, most humiliating and cringeworthy vow the world has ever heard will make me love you less. You 're stuck with me."

"For better or worse."

a/n: and that's a wrap on another gay shenanigans with enhypen :3 thank you for all the love you've given me and this fic and I'll see you soon with bloodsucker Sunghoon lol

Take care my beloved pookies <3

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[extrashotodepresso]

Fake Dating Series:

KirishimaXFem!Reader

(ft. Ex Hawks)

Warnings: SMUT AHOY! (Actual smut- like DNI if under 18) , a bit of Yandere Hawks at the end (can’t help myself), angst, pure filth, cheesy, cheating mentioned

I had an idea a while back about a little fic series around the beautiful cliche trope of fake dating. Overdone you say? YUP! But it’s so tasty I can’t help it! Needless to say, all characters in my fics are 18+. In this one, MC and Kirishima are in their mid to late twenties.

So this is the first one!!! Feel free to reblog if you want, I literally write these for myself but if you like it lemme know if there’s anything else you wanna see!

Summary:

Hawks shows up at the agency and tries to get back together with you. You try to blow him off but he’s pushy. Getting irritated you say you’re dating someone. When he asks who, Kirishima walks over and you get an idea.

“Just go with it.”

“What?”

You pull Kirishima by the harness on his chest and bring him in for a short kiss; what you weren’t expecting was for him to kiss you back.

“Um… still here, (Y/N).” Hawks clears his throat uncomfortably, while you are stuck staring up at Kirishima’s face.

“Wanna get out of here, pebble?” He asks with a sly grin.

“You have no idea.”

You had felt your phone incessantly buzzing in your back pocket all day. You prayed silently that this meeting would end soon; you could hardly pay attention to it anyway.

“Everything okay, Jumper?” You heard someone call out to you. When you looked up it was none other than Red Riot, your coworker and acquaintance. You rubbed your neck nervously.

“Yeah- just have a lot on my mind I guess.” You looked up at him with a soft smile before standing- even if you were tall for the average woman, he stood easily a foot and a half above you, though he was less intimidating than his appearance would suggest.

“Well if you need anything, let me know.” He smiled again kindly, then offered you a small stack of papers. “Notes. From the meeting.” You took them gingerly, looking up at him with a raised brow. “Seemed like you missed some of the info today, wouldn’t want you falling behind.” His face was almost bashful as he said this, his mouth opening slightly like he was preparing to speak again.

“Riot!” Dynamight called out for his friend suddenly and Red Riot gave you a small wave before walking away, leaving you a little dumbstruck. Sure, Red Riot was nice- he had even been dubbed the new gentlemanly hero- but something about the gesture gnawed at you. Unfortunately you didn’t have much time to stare after him in bewilderment as your phone began ringing. Again.

You whipped your phone out of your pocket, turning towards the elevator and making sure you were alone before you hit ‘answer’.

“What do you want?” You spat out, hand smashing the down button as you looked behind you in a paranoid fashion. You prayed as you waited for the doors to open that no one would follow you.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that little bird.” The voice that came over was saccharine and sweet, the syrupy tone making your stomach turn. You waited until you were inside the elevator with the door closed to respond.

“Don’t call me that, Hawks.” Your teeth were grinding.

“I’m downstairs.”

“What? Downstairs where?”

“At your agency. Let’s go for dinner or some coffee- you know you can’t-“

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Fuck off and go away.” You hung up the phone, practically slamming it in your frustration.

Two years. Two years of your life you had dedicated to that insufferable, egotistical, bird brained— ugh! And three months ago, you found out he had been cheating on you with some young up and coming sidekick. You closed your eyes, exhaling deeply before collapsing on the cool elevator wall. When the doors opened, you were in the hallway to the lockers.

You had been throwing yourself into your work since you had broken up with Hawks. You had spent the past few months pulling shift after shift- and now you were being forced to take the weekend off. This was especially frustrating to you at the moment; if Hawks didn’t leave like you asked, you wouldn’t have a good excuse to lose him, and the man had a way of getting what he wanted. You made it to the showers, cleaned yourself then changed into civilian clothing, praying that he had the decency to finally listen to you on your elevator ride back to the lobby. Though, if his incessant harassment the past three months had anything to say about the likelihood of that happening… the doors opened and you steeled yourself, trying to visualize an undisturbed path to the exit.

As you approached the front desk at the lobby, your heart sank. He was still there, casually leaning on the marble counter, blatantly flirting with the receptionist.

“Well I would be crazy not to want that back.” You muttered, rolling your eyes before trying to walk as quietly as possible past him.

“Baby bird!” He called out to you and you stopped, feeling your shoulders hunch over.

“I told you to fuck off.” You spoke through your teeth. He walked over to you, opening his arms as if wanting a hug, then after seeing your expression lowered them slowly.

“Look- I know that-“ he actually looked remorseful as he paused, “I messed up.”

“You messed up?” You barked out a laugh. “Did you mess up the first time when you fucked her in your office? Or the tenth time when you fucked her in our bed?” Your glare was seething now, and his face was heartbroken. As much as the part of you that had loved him wanted to reach out and make him feel better, the part of you that he broke rejoiced seeing him in pain.

“Yes, (Y/N). I fucked up. And I’ve regretted it every single day. I miss you, can’t we just talk about this?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Why not?” Just then, the pinging sound of the elevator caught your attention and you looked over your shoulder to see— the perfect distraction.

“I don’t think my new boyfriend would like it.” You lifted your chin haughtily before you heard the heavy footsteps approaching.

“Boyfriend?”

“Hey! Jumper, Hawks, how’s it goin?” Just as you expected, Red Riot approached the two of you at the desk, smiling brightly, completely unaware he was about to be the perfect decoy.

“Hey babe!” You called out enthusiastically before trotting over to him. He was still in his hero gear, no doubt going for a last patrol on his way home. He looked down at you with a slightly quizzical expression before you whispered so only he could hear, “Just go with it.”

You grabbed his shoulder harness, pulling him down to you and before he could react or protest, kissed him. It was meant to be a quick peck on the lips, nothing too showy but the second after you pulled away, you felt his hand reach behind your head, fingers threading in your hair as he brought you back for more.

His lips were softer than you expected from the hardened hero, more experienced too. His lips moved along yours with a delicate fervor, quickly you lost yourself in him. Your hand that had been wrapped around his harness tightened and you pulled him ever closer, practically whimpering into his open mouth as the kiss heated. His tongue probed your bottom lip, requesting entrance and without a second thought you allowed it.

“Um… (y/n)? I'm still right here.” You heard Hawks behind you and it brought you back to the present. Pulling away, you attempted to gather your breath as you looked up at Red Riot.

He was looking at you with a hunger that made your thighs clench together. You didn’t know what you had expected when you kissed him, probably just an awkward joke and maybe an offer to walk you home, but this was… carnal. He was smirking down at you, sharpened teeth glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Wanna get out of here, pebble?” His voice was gravelly, thunderous and you bit your lip as you nodded.

“You have no idea.” You managed to whisper as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Sorry we couldn’t catch up, Hawks.” He spoke, still looking into your eyes as he did. “Looks like my little pebble needs to get home. I’m sure you understand.”

With that, the two of you left, leaving Hawks standing dumbfounded behind you.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” Riot finally spoke again as the two of you entered the parking garage.

“Not really.” Your mind was still spinning, “Thanks for the help, Riot.”

“It’s Kirishima.” He said, softly as you approached your car.

“Kirishima.” You tested it out. It was foreign on your tongue, but not unwelcome.

“You want me to go home with you?” He asked and you felt a blush bloom across your face before you looked at him dumbly.

“Huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a blush creeping up on his cheeks as well.

“I mean- to make sure you get there safely and everything.” He cleared his throat, suddenly breaking your gaze. You smiled, your stomach feeling flutterings you hadn’t experienced for almost two years.

“I’m a hero too, you know.” You said, teasingly.

“O-of course, I just thought-“ you giggled, he was too easy to tease.

“I’m happy to bring you back to your place- it looks like you were planning on one last patrol though.” He finally looked back at you, his eyes trying to read your expression. It was stifling, that look and you cleared your throat before rambling on, “I suppose I do owe you a bit of an explanation. It’s the least I could do to give you a ride as thanks.”

“I was planning on another round but it’s late… so if you’re willing to drive me… what I’m saying is…” he stopped himself, “I’d like that.” He muttered.

You nodded, then walked to your driver's side, sitting down and trying to not scream internally as he sat next to you. Your car adjusted with his weight and you felt suddenly self conscious about the state of your car- would he judge you for the smell of stale coffee or the miscellaneous straw wrappings on your passenger side floor? If he did, he didn’t say anything, he just casually provided you his address for the GPS. For the next few minutes, the only sound that could be heard were the incessant directions of your car, taking you on what felt like the longest drive of your life.

“He’s my ex.” You said, suddenly, to break the silence the two of you had lapsed into.

“Who?” He looked over at you, and though you trained your eyes on the road, you could detect surprise in his tone.

“Hawks.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” You said almost curtly. “Broke up a few months ago.” You readjusted, feeling his gaze on you was a little uncomfortable.

“Why did you—“ he let himself trail off, then caught himself. “Actually, I don’t need to know, I’m sorry that was-“

“We have different definitions of fidelity.” You interrupted him. “I think it means you stay loyal to one person, he thinks if someone else wants you and they’re super hot, sleeping with them should be acceptable.” You smirked as you shrugged, though saying it out loud hurt you more than you would like to admit.

You hadn’t talked about the break up with anyone. Not even your best friend. All she knew was you were done, and you didn’t want to go back. Kirishima was now the only one who knew the truth.

“That’s so unmanly.” He said, as solemnly as possible and you barked out a laugh. “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing-“ you said through giggles as you pulled up to his apartment. “It’s just-“ more giggles “unmanly?” You bit your lip, finally turning to him as you parked.

“So… he’s the one that was calling you all day?” Kirishima changed the subject. You sighed, resting your head on the seat as you turned toward him.

“Yeah. He wants to get back together. Doesn’t seem to understand the phrase ‘fuck off’.” You smiled, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“And you think that kiss will be enough to keep him away?” He asked, almost incredulously.

“I would think so-“ you looked at him through your lashes. “It was a pretty great kiss.” You chewed at your bottom lip subconsciously and you watched as his eyes followed the movement.

“I don’t think he’s gonna stop until he really gets the message.” His voice had changed again, all low and sexy and you felt those butterflies again.

“So what do you suggest?” You swallowed, your mouth was suddenly completely dry. He leaned over to you, his massive hand caressing your face and covering half of it.

“Make the message so loud, he can’t ignore it.” He brought his face to yours, eyes looking in yours then to your lips to give you plenty of time to change your mind. In response, you leaned in to close the gap, brushing your lips against his just barely.

He increased the pressure, exhaling in relief as you permitted him to continue kissing you. The two of you quickly became a mess of tongues and teeth- though as things became more heated, the tiny space of your car was hardly accommodating.

“Would you like to-“ he broke the kiss to ask you a question, though you didn’t let him finish.

“Fuck yes, let’s go.” He smiled at this, chuckling as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“I was going to say come up for a drink, but I have a feeling you have a little more on your mind.” Your face reddened in embarrassment.

“A d-drink would be nice.” You swallowed. “I’m a little thirsty.”

“That’s one way to put it .” He said with another smirk and you pushed his chest, smoothing your hair and trying to catch your breath when you heard his rumbling laugher as he exited the car. The sound of it was enchanting. He walked around and opened your door, ever the gentleman, and you unfastened your seatbelt before grabbing his hand and following him inside.

Kirishima had a massive penthouse apartment, with all new everything and expensive furnishings.

“So this is a top hero’s apartment, huh?” You asked as you looked around wide-eyed. “You probably spend in a month what I do in a year.” You mused out loud as he walked over to his massive kitchen, grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge.

“I’m comfortable.” He said with a slight chuckle. “But it helps that I split the rent.” He walked towards you, offering you a water before gesturing to a large U shaped leather couch by a fireplace.

“You have a roommate?” You watched him nod, then sat on the edge of the couch, watching him walk away before your eyes continued to drag themselves around the room “Who? Wait, you’re not-“ he shook his head.

“I’m single, don’t worry.” You let out an exhale you didn’t know you were holding. “Bakugo and I have been roommates since college.” Your brows raised at this.

“Dynamight?” You asked incredulously. “Lord-Explosion-Murder—screams-at-children-number-two-hero—Dynamight is your roommate?”

“Yep. Hey, do you want anything harder than water?” You heard him call out to you, apparently in your awe he had returned to the kitchen.

“You bet your ass I do-“ you muttered, then louder; “whiskey, if you have it?” You looked back at him and watched him nod, his back to you as he rifled through the kitchen, moving surprisingly swiftly to grab a glass and some expensive looking amber fluid in a crystal container.

You had been staring into the fireplace, still oscillating between several levels of shook before you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked up, and Kirishima was smiling at you, handing you a glass of whiskey.

“Do you mind if I go clean up?” He asked with almost an apologetic expression. “I haven’t had a chance yet to change and-“ you nodded

“That’s fine, I’ll just be out here…” you gestured to the couch. “Waiting.” You offered what you hoped was a sexy smile, not missing the way he swallowed before he straightened up.

“Five minutes. Promise.” He was almost childlike as he scampered off, leaving you to collapse into the couch in wonder at the situation you now found yourself in.

What a bizarre series of events. Not even an hour ago, Red Riot was a coworker you barely knew. Just someone who you would idly chat with in the mornings, occasionally fight beside on patrol- now you were in his apartment, drinking whiskey, watching a fire and waiting for him to— you took a drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves.

Kirishima was an incredibly attractive man. Maybe not by super traditional standards; with his spiky teeth and even spikier hair, but there was always a kindness to him you found intriguing. Not to mention, he was absolutely ripped. Nearly seven feet of carved muscle and rugged angles, a sharp contrast to his normally shy and kind personality. Your nails tapped on the glass in your hand as you stared into the flames.

What if this was a mistake? You didn’t know exactly what was happening tonight, though you knew what you had hoped for. He was really too nice of a guy to be a rebound…

As you lost yourself in your thoughts, feeling the pleasant warmth of the fire and the hum of the whiskey making its way through your bones, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sound of a door closing.

“Hope you didn’t wait too long.” His voice echoed out and you looked up, letting out what could definitely be interpreted as a moan.

Freshly showered Kirishima was a god. His hair which was usually styled sharply fell into his face softly, just passing his shoulders and you could see a hint of his black roots at the top. It was weirdly sexy to watch as he pulled his hair behind his face and tied it in a low ponytail, his bangs falling into his face gently. He was wearing a black sweater that did absolutely nothing to hide his hulking muscle and a casual pair of jeans that seemed to strain against the sheer bulk of his thighs. As he sat down, the smell of his shampoo or body wash enveloped you; sandalwood and something earthy- like the smell of rain. You wondered now what you had been so concerned with before, the idea that you had an important thought being the only thing you managed to grasp.

“You alright?” His voice was soft, sweet, as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You blindly set your glass on the table beside you before leaning in to kiss him again.

It felt so right to kiss him. Losing yourself in his taste was so easy, so comfortable, so— as he pulled you onto his lap, gripping your thighs with his massive hands you moaned into him. His contagious smile could be felt on your lips as the sound escaped you and it almost bothered you how calm he was. You wanted him to feel the same as you, feel this untethered. You brought yourself down to sit fully on his lap, grinding the apex of your thighs against him.

When you found the hardened flesh there eagerly waiting and heard his breathy little groan you finally smiled back before pulling away from the kiss.

“I’m fantastic.” You managed to croak out in response to his question, looking at him to see a darkened expression over his features.

“(Y/N)-“ your name came so easily from his lips, you hadn’t realized he had actually known it until now.

“Yes, Kiri?” You kissed along his jaw, tilting his head to find his exposed neck, kissing him gently before biting the flesh at the junction of his throat and collarbone. His grip on your thighs tightened in the most delicious way when you did, and you licked at the flesh before returning to his lips. But he pulled away.

“What do you want?” He suddenly asked. You paused, over him.

“What do you mean? I want you.” You sat back, studying his expression. He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face.

“I mean- what do you want from this? I’m all for us hooking up to make Hawks jealous and everything-“

“Who?” Your genuine surprise seemed to astonish him. For a moment, you had forgotten what had brought you here, to this man’s couch, practically begging for him to take you.

“Seriously.” He sighed. “I think we should probably talk about what you actually want from this before we-“ you brought your hand to his lips, silencing him.

“I kissed you back at the agency for a distraction. Sure. But-“ you looked around the vast apartment. “I don’t see him here now, do you?” You smiled down at him. “If this was just to piss him off, I would call him while you were breaking me in half so he could hear what a real man can do.” Kirishima blushed at your words. “And while that might be fun to do some other time…” You leaned back, pulling off your shirt to reveal your chest covered by a padded sports bra you had put on that morning when you had no idea you would be straddling one of Japan’s top ten heroes. Kirishima didn’t seem to mind as he swallowed at the sudden exposure of your flesh, “Right now, I’m only thinking about you. And I would have thought,” you gave another experimental grind of your hips, delighting in the almost tortured sound he made, “that what I wanted was obvious.”

Kirishima studied you for a few moments, searching in your expression for the truth in your words. He must have found what he was looking for as he kissed you, immediately opening his mouth to tangle his tongue with yours.

It was sloppy, steamy and downright indecent, but gods if it didn’t spark your need for him. He brought his hands back to your thighs, caressing them before grabbing handfuls of your ass, landing a harsh slap that caused you to shriek into his mouth.

“You’re a naughty little thing, pebble.” He purred. “I didn’t expect you to be this-“ you brought your own hands to the hem of his shirt, dragging them up along his toned abdomen to rest on his pectorals, clawing at them before gesturing you wanted the shirt off.

“Forward?” You finished for him. He pulled his shirt off, then returned to your lips, hardening his grip before standing up, carrying you around like you were made of air.

“Bedroom?” He panted into your mouth. You nodded and kissed him back.

The way to his room was a bit of a blur. He stopped a few times along the way, pressing you up against the walls, letting his hands explore every dip and curve on your body. You thought, distantly, that you might have heard things crash to the ground at some point, but had a sinkhole opened in the middle of Mustafu, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. There was nothing but him. His touch, his lips, his sounds, it was all that mattered right now.

When your back met the plush of his bed and he crawled over you, you felt another moment of awareness at the sheer size of him. He seemed to even block out the light in his room, his face was nothing but shadow. He pulled back again, finally allowing you to see his tortured expression, his hand brushing your cheek as his eyes seared into you.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He asked, his voice strained like the idea of you saying no was physically painful. You leaned up to kiss him, your hands trailing down the expanse of his chest to stop at the button on his jeans. You let them sit there for a moment, playing at the hem, enjoying the feel of where the elastic on his briefs beneath his pants met his skin.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” You mirrored him. “I’m not the one who keeps stopping.” You were smirking, but your heart was racing. He set every nerve you had on fire, you couldn’t remember ever feeling like this.

“Are you kidding?” A lopsided smile graced his face. “You’re all I think about, (Y/N). I’m still not convinced this is real.” Your eyes widened. Did he really feel that way? A blush spread across his face. “Sorry.” You didn’t know how to respond to his sudden confession so you kissed him again, finally allowing yourself to unbutton his jeans and try to wriggle them off his hips.

He seemed to understand your hint and helped you out, standing awkwardly and shuffling his pants down his legs. He stood then, almost bashfully when your gaze was immediately sent to the large tent in his boxer-briefs. Chewing at your lip again, you swallowed. Everything on this man was giant. You slid your leggings off your legs, throwing them unceremoniously to the floor before motioning for him to return to you. He moved quickly, his lips finding your neck and every sensitive point on it as his hands wrapped their way around your torso, arching your back and bringing you as close as possible to him.

“May I?” His fingers were playing at the back of your bra and you nodded, turning your face to him again, finding his lips once more. He unclasped your bra, having to lean up from you to pull it off, one arm resting beside your head. He pulled back a little more, looking over your body with a sort of reverence. A small whimper left you at the seriousness of his expression, which he seemed to take as you missing his lips on you (not that he was entirely wrong).

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He whispered into your neck, kissing down your collarbone and sternum before dragging his tongue over your breast. He found your nipple with the wet appendage, circling around it before bringing it into his mouth with an sultry suck. You gasped, hands tangling into his hair. He continued to lavish you with his lips and tongue, and when you pulled out his hair tie so you could run your fingers through his hair, he bit down on the top of your breast, causing you to shriek at the suddenness of it. He pulled back.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to-“ you threaded your fingers to the base of his scalp, tugging harshly.

“Stop apologizing Kiri.” Your voice was stern. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something. But I’m not going to break.” He still looked unsure, so you tugged again, eliciting a small moan from him. (Hair pulling kink unlocked) “I mean it.” You swallowed, “Do whatever you want.” A choked sort of sound left him, and he kissed your lips again.

“You…” whatever he was going to say, he didn’t. He bit your bottom lip, the sharpness of his teeth caused a slight sting but it felt so good. Kirishima moved down your body again, littering bites and kisses wherever he went.

He crawled down the bed, stopping between your thighs. He sat up then, spreading you before him, staring at the apex of your thighs with a hungry expression.

“Anything I want?” A devious smile formed on his face. You nodded, for the first time a bit unsure. “You might regret sayin’ that, pebble.” He lifted a hand, using his quirk to harden his arm. Your heart was racing as he dragged a sharpened finger down your torso, not hard enough to draw blood, but strong enough to feel dangerous. He hooked his finger into your panties, quickly moving his hand to shred them off of you and expose you fully to the room. He deactivated his quirk, then removing the offending scraps off your body, lowered his head.

He bit your hip harshly, and you twitched at the feeling, legs immediately trying to close but he held you open with just one arm. He kissed the spot he bit, running his tongue over it to soothe the ache before moving to your thighs. He kissed and sucked the inner flesh there too, and you felt yourself clenching on nothing, the part of you he had exposed was yet to be touched and it was driving you insane.

“Kirishima please-“ you whined. He looked up at you, like you were disturbing him from enjoying himself. A switch had definitely been flipped at some point; where he had been eager to please, now you were his plaything.

“It’s Eijiro.” He said with another well timed bite.

“Eijiro! Please!” You begged again. He didn’t make you wait this time, bringing his face to where you wanted him most, he licked a long stripe up your folds.

“Delicious.” He muttered to himself before he began devouring you with a fervor. His tongue dove into your weeping heat, fucking you open with the thick appendage and you moaned, gripping his hair again like your life depended on it. This egged him on, as he brought a finger to your folds and pushed one inhumanly large digit inside you.

You were already so close, it was embarrassing. His tongue moved to your clit, circling around, writing out incantations that had you ready to cream any second. You managed, just barely, to look down at him. His cheeks were flushed, hair mangled by your hands and his eyes were burning into you with a sincerity you’d never seen before. He pushed another finger inside of you, scissoring and curling them to stretch you out, hitting your spot absolutely perfectly- and that was it. With a loud shriek you came, and he eagerly lapped up every bit of you, letting out a satisfied hum that vibrated your core. His fingers slowed their pace to work you through your orgasm, his tongue gently caressing you.

Out of breath, you tapped on his shoulders, trying to communicate to him that you wanted him to return to you. He understood and almost hesitantly, crawled back up your body, kissing you without a word, feeding your taste to you with his tongue.

“Eiji-“ you moaned into him “I need-“ again, he seemed to understand what you meant without words as he slithered out of his boxers, the weight of his manhood slapping against your thigh when he was freed. Your hands glided from his shoulders down the broad expanse of his back, raking your nails down his chest before you wrapped a hand around him.

He was thick. The thought of it had you drooling a little into his kiss. A small, inhuman sound left your lips when you dragged your hand up his length and felt the beads of pre already weeping from him. He broke the kiss with a moan, looking down to see your hand struggling to wrap fully around him while you angled yourself uncomfortably to try to pump him. He thrust into your hand, eyes practically rolling back before he stopped himself entirely.

“Hold on-“ he let out with a hiss before stopping your hand, grabbing it with his and pinning your arm next to your head, threading his fingers into yours. With his other hand he lined himself up with your entrance and slid up and down your slit, lubing himself with your slick.

It felt heavenly. The head of his cock kept barely catching on your entrance, then would move up and kiss your clit. You ground into him, trying and failing to just line him up with your core; though the feeling of him fucking your folds was pleasant, you wanted more.

“Slow down, pebble.” He moaned out into your neck, his voice like liquid velvet against your skin. “We’re gonna have to take it slow.” You wanted to protest, but even just the action of him rubbing against you was sending you toward another release. “Holy shit, are you gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” Your eyes rolled into your head as your hips increased their pace, you thought you nodded but you couldn’t be too sure. There was something so primal about this experience. The need you felt for him was entirely animal. He chuckled darkly into you, then finally, agonizingly slowly, he began to push inside you.

The second his head made it past the first ring of muscle, you nearly blacked out. It was a stretch far beyond the familiar.

“F-fuck-“ he groaned, trying to keep going slowly but his hips were sputtering like he was trying to hold back.

“I told you-“ you angled your hips up to take another inch in- the stretch was incredible, “I’m not gonna break.”

You would one day wish that you could find the words to describe his expression, or the sound he made at your revelation, but you registered nothing as he lost complete control inside you. With one sharp thrust, he buried himself in at the hilt. There was no pain, just the immediate burst of pleasure you felt as he finally filled you. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling in his sheets while your knees squeezed his sides closer- like he could get any deeper.

“Y-y-you’re-“ he was stuttering, his every movement completely halted at the feeling of you pulsing around him. “Fuck it’s like you’re sucking me in-“ he pulled out agonizingly slowly before returning to you, thrusting tentatively at first before gaining confidence and speed.

His lips returned to yours, kissing you and refusing to separate any inch of himself from you. You were completely enveloped in his body, distantly experiencing the feeling of your damp skin clutching onto his. You couldn’t decide where to put your hands- they traveled from his hair to his shoulders to the sheets back up to his hair and you were sure that you could die in this moment and be completely fine. You were building up to something again, another gloriously dangerous crescendo that threatened to tear the fabric of your being apart.

“(Y/N)-“ he moaned into you, “I’m gonna- I can’t-“ his words were just as wrecked as you felt, and you nodded against his lips.

“It’s okay, Eiji. Let go.” You whispered the last part and he growled, pistoning his hips into you before there was a hitch in his movements, a moment where with a grunt, you felt a warmth spread through you. The feeling of being so intensely full, of being whole and still getting more finally sent you to your final release. Your head fell back, trying to bury itself in the sheets beneath you and as his movements sputtered and slowed he kissed your neck. He was grunting like the sound was being forced out of him, like he did whenever you were in a really tough battle and the thought sent heat over your body.

It was all too much.

Finally, the room seemed to still, the two of you were a collection of broken gasps and whimpers. He continued kissing your neck and face until you felt him soften and slip out of you. With a groan, he rolled himself away, leaving you stunned and a little cold.

You simply stared at the ceiling. The gentlemanly hero, Red Riot had just fucked you to the point that you saw stars at the edge of your vision. The thought made you smile. For a moment, you almost felt insecure that he left right afterwards until you heard a faucet in the distance.

Still catching your breath, you tried to drag your head to look at him when you heard his steps approach.

“How you feelin’, sweetheart?” He asked gently as he sat next to you, his massive form dipping the bed as you felt something warm and wet between your thighs. He was cleaning you up. Gentleman indeed.

He kissed you, rubbing the thumb of his unoccupied hand across the plane of your cheek. You smiled at him, kissing him again.

“Ethereal. You?” He chuckled into you, tossing the washcloth in the general direction of his hamper.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He laid himself down on his bed, opening his arms in an offer to cuddle and you obliged, not minding the fact that the two of you were still a little sticky with sweat. His arm pulled you into his side, draping your leg over him and holding you there while his other arm rested behind his head. For a few moments all you could hear was the heartbeat in his chest; strong, calm, dependable.

“Did you mean it?” You asked him. His thumb, which had been idly petting your thigh suddenly stopped and he looked down at you.

“Mean what, pebble?”

“When you said I’m all you think about.” It was embarrassing to even ask, it was probably just something said in the heat of the moment. Hawks was like that, he would say all sorts of things when you were in the bedroom and when you were done…

“Of course I did.” He responded without any hesitance. He was blushing when you looked up, which was insanely cute.

“For how long?” You bit your lip. It felt like you were digging your grave here, but you couldn’t help it.

“Dunno. Just sorta noticed one day that you’re all I notice.” He said this so casually, like it was just an irreprochable fact. “I uh… I was actually about to ask you out. You know, before we uh…” he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

“I’m so glad it was you that got off that elevator.” You said, seriously. He let out a laugh before kissing you.

“Me too, pebble. Me too.” The kiss that followed started soft, but was starting to heat up as he rolled back over you, his hand cradling your face like you were precious. As your need started to reignite for him, you heard a loud slam.

“Oi, shitty hair! I brought dinner for your dumb ass.” The familiarly violent voice of Bakugo rang out through the apartment. Kirishima groaned into your neck, and you chuckled. “Why are all the pictures knocked down? What the fuck?” As the ferocious blonde started stomping towards his room, Kirishima reached for the covers on the bed, pulling them over you.

“I’m really sorry for what’s about to happen.” He said to you apologetically before rolling out of the bed with a groan. He pulled on his jeans with haste, still jumping trying to wrangle them on while he made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him gently. “I have company, bro! Chill out, you're gonna scare her.” Though he tried to whisper, the urgency in his tone caused his words to carry through the door.

“What the fuck kind of-“ Bakugo’s footsteps stopped. You continued to giggle. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Muttered conversation that was unclear reverberated through the space.

“I didn’t get enough food for a third.” You heard Bakugo yell towards the room, “So if you want to eat you’ll have to feed yourself.”

***

Across the street, on a rooftop that was positioned perfectly to look into a certain Pro-Hero’s bedroom sat a blonde hero with wings crimson as blood and a heart shattered beyond repair. A feather gently floated toward him and he grabbed it, clenching it with all the rage he felt.

He had seen everything. Heard every word, every demented moan. She had never been like that with him.

Though Hawks knew the reason he lost her was his fault, he still felt she belonged to him. His eyes narrowed as he set off, flying high above the city, eyes burning. He wouldn’t lose. Not to him.

His resolve, crumbling as it was, still spilled fire through his veins. He would find a way to get her back, even if it meant hurting her again.

[scekrex]

I swear, you can't get rid of me, dude.

Another prompt ✨ Adam and reader playing a "What do you meme" game but it's DIY with instead of actual meme pictures, it's reaction pics of either of them, some of Lute, Sera, Emily and other angels (But mostly them). The reader pulls out a card he made specifically for this occasion that read "When you're playing a game with your partner, but suddenly someone interrupts it to propose" Adam being the dumb bitch that he is doesn't realise anything and searches for an ideal card, the card probably being:

When he finally goes to put the card into the table, he sees the reader on his knee with a nice velvet box, a shiny golden band with a sapphire in the middle and Adam just disconnects from the server, blue screen, the equivalence of this gif:

You say that like I want to get rid of you, nah bitch ur stuck with me now. Also: another crack fic whoop whoop (even tho the ending turned out super soft n cute imo) also Adam's basically me. You have to say that shit straight up to my face otherwise I'll think ur joking lol

I'm liking it better with you

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, yet another crack fic

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

If someone would've told you that you'd spend your afterlife with the Adam, you would've called them insane, yet there you were.

Adam was sitting on the couch across from you while you had made yourself comfy on the armchair, between the both of you was a small coffee table and on that table was a card.

‘When you realize the song you always skip is actually fire.'

You giggled to yourself as you played a picture of Lute. Her face was scrunched up and the expression on it basically screamed ‘I was wrong but won't admit it'.

That picture was from when Lute had lost a bet against Adam that had involved you and him hooking up - it was from before the two of you had started dating and was old as fuck but that didn't make the picture less funny.

Adam grinned as you played the card, then he raised an eyebrow, “That’s the best you have to offer, babes?” You simply shrugged, “What, you think I'd play shitty on purpose? C’mon you know me well enough to know that I won't settle with anything less than the closest thing to perfect.” Adam was too focused on the game to understand the hint and to be honest you couldn't really blame him, so you continued the game without another word about it.

You picked the next caption card.

‘When you're cutting wrapping paper and the scissors start to glide.’

Adam was quick to slam a matching picture card on the table, it was a picture of him putting his index fingers together - he accidentally formed an A with his hands - his facial expression was giving praying vibes with his closed eyes and the slightly up tilted chin.

You remembered the day that picture was taken on so clearly, Adam had been in an argument with Lute, she wanted something from Sera and had asked Adam to pull some strings and Adam being the idiot he was had taken on the position shown on the picture right before he snapped at her, “Do I look like motherfucking God? Go talk to Sera yourself, bitch.”

“Fuck that's good,” you admitted quietly, unfortunately Adam had heard you, “Duh, I'm fucking Adam, of course I'm good at this game it features my fucking face and my face is fucking perfect.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the brunette who seemed quite proud of himself, “Yeah whatever Dickmaster, gimme another caption card.”

And so Adam did.

‘When your shampoo says ‘Damage Control’ but deep down you're still broken.’

“Getting personal now, are we?” you teased the taller man who shot you a playful smirk. He leaned against the backrest of the couch and put his arms up to rest on top of it, “Your words babes, not mine.” Oh that motherfucker, how you loved him.

You confidently played a picture card of yourself that time, it showed you passive aggressively slurping a milkshake that Adam had bought you only moments after someone's brat had knocked your ice cream cone onto the ground - ah good old times.

You vividly remember how pissed you had been, fuck, you remember how Adam had yelled at that kid to watch where the fuck she was going and then he had started to pick a fight with the mom and all that just because of some fucking ice cream. In the end Adam had managed to lighten up your mood by buying you that milkshake you were drinking in the picture you had just played. Adam had taken that picture to point out how cute your grumpy face looked, at the time you were not having it but looking back at it he kinda had a point.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing your munched up angry little face,” he chuckled as he looked at the picture of you. You stayed silent and played the next caption card, your hands were slightly shaking and by the love of God you hoped Adam was too distracted to notice. And luckily he actually was.

“The fuck is that?” he exclaimed confused as he read the card over and over again, then he looked up at you, “The fuck does ‘When you’re playing a game with your partner, but suddenly someone interrupts it to propose’ even mean?” You shrugged and Adam went through all of his picture cards twice.

And while Adam had been busy picking a card to play, you had gotten out of your seat and were now down on one knee beside him. In your hands there was a little box that was covered in purple velvet and contained a shiny golden band and the most beautiful looking sapphire was gleaming at Adam. It had been hard to find a band made out of pure gold instead of the thing just being gold plated, but in the end you had found the perfect one.

Finally Adam looked up from the cards he was holding and slammed one onto the table, “Try to beat that, bitch.”

On the picture he was frowning, his mask covered his face so the frown was all LED mask but it showed his emotions pretty well, one of his hands was raised as if he were to make a point about something.

At first the brunette blinked confused at the empty chair across from him, then his eyes caught yours and the cocky grin that had sat on his lips so perfectly fell, it left an expression you weren't able to read. “Adam,” you spoke softly, slightly irritated by his reaction but still confident, “I’ve known you ever since I got here and while I'm aware that we spent little time together compared to how long you've been up here,” you continued and you really couldn't help but smile.

Adam on the other hand was completely silent, his expression was blank, there was no emotion on his face at all and it made you worry that this might've been too soon. But you simply inhaled deeply and spoke up again, “And I know that our future together will be even longer, it's not really eternity's thing to have an end after all, but-” you swallowed hard. Why wasn't he reacting, why wasn't he telling you to either quit it or hurry up like he usually did when you took too long?

You swallowed whatever negative feelings were bubbling up your throat and went on to confess, “But that's what I want, Adam. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side. I don't want to imagine life up here without you as my partner and I-” Adam made you interrupt yourself as he cupped your cheeks softly, his thumb carefully brushing over your bottom lip, “Keep going babes, I wanna hear what else you have to say.” You gave him a small nod, it took a moment for you to find your voice again but once you did, you finished your little speech, “I not only want you by my side as my boyfriend, but as my husband. So will you take this ring and marry me?”

Adam dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands were still cupping your face ever so softly as his lips met yours. The kiss was warm and soft, slow and almost lazy and Adam wasn't going to pick up the pace, not for that kiss at least. He wanted you to drown in the feeling of his kiss, he wanted you to drown in his love for you and equally he wanted to drown in your love for him. “Yes you little shithead,” the first man whispered against your lips followed by giving them a quick peck, “I’ll marry you.”

-

also here r the pics they used as cards in order:

1)

2)

3) this is the one that inspired the reader picture card

4)

[retnym]

WORLD TOUR- .09

"Sir, you can not be in here."

“[Name]!” A voice screamed into my ear, jolting me awake from my sleep. Covering the top of my body with a blanket since I slept in a tank top I tiredly stare at my abuser. “What time is it?” I groan, lifting a hand over my eyes due to the light coming in from the bus windows. “Time to get off the bus.” Bill laughs, Georg was next to him eating a granola bar. Rolling my eyes I laid back down. Springroll made a little noise, wiggling in my side to get comfortable again. 

I glance over at the clock and it was only 8:30 in the morning. It does seem like the bus is stopped though so I fix my shirt and stand up unfortunately to Springroll. “Where is everyone else?” I stretch my arms into the air, moaning at the feeling. 

“They all went into the hotel already. The hotel said they had a buffet open.” Georg explains as Bill was already running off. I’m surprised he’s up and so energetic. Usually, he’s the complete opposite of me. Being bitchy and annoyed with everyone. I just know someone’s going to say something that irritates me. 

I lift Springroll into my arms. Luckily this hotel takes pets they said they actually prefer cats coming in over dogs. Less noisy. 

“Ah, I’m going to find a hoodie. I’ll join everyone in a minute.” I tell him, he just nods, listening to what I say. After what happened with the managers I got a call from Jace the same night. He told me he’s going to join our last two shows before we leave for the United States. Something that is really going against what my managers want. They do not want me seen with anyone other than bandmates or really just Tom. Something I wish I could argue on. 

Tom has been a bit sweeter but still avoidant from me. I should be the one avoiding him. He said that stuff about me and ever since the meltdown he’s now looking at ways to get away from me or get out of a conversation when I join it. He’s doing the exact opposite of what we were told to do in public as well. He’s going to get us yelled at once again. 

Whatever his deal is he needs to chill. He could’ve told me to stop holding his hand or leaning on him if he wanted to but he told me I was okay. Ugh, I shouldn’t be stressing over my frustration with him. 

It was another thing I tried talking to Jace about but every time I go to complain about Tom or anything for that matter he talks about himself and switches the whole subject.

It’s really weird. 

Anywho, I threw on a grew crewneck and slipped on shows as I got off the bus. I held Springroll as I walked in the breeze to get into the large building. A security guard had opened the door, a quiet thank you slipping out of my mouth in passing. 

I joined the group and got a plate of my own. The others had either finished their food or were getting seconds right now. Tom was ahead of me getting fruit and cereal so I silently crept up to him. “Strawberries and raspberries?” I snicker, it’s the same thing every time he picks fruit. That or pineapple too. “Yeah?” He scoffs and I just lift one hand up in defense. 

“4 more shows until the U.S.A!” I cheered the last part jokingly and he just laughs shaking his head. “How do you feel?” I ask him. 

“Oh you know, I get to party. Have fun with some girls.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I scrunch my nose pretending to be disgusted. I really felt a pang in my stomach. Weird.

“I wish, I got stuck with Jace now.” I dramatically say, obviously, it was a joke just like his sort of was meant to be but we all know he was telling the truth. “Whose fault is that?” He gave me a look and I furrow my eyebrows. “What does that mean?” 

“I mean, you chose to date him even after questioning it.” He points out but for some reason, it just hits me the wrong way. “Don’t throw that in my face,” I tell him, he just takes a bite of a strawberry. “You’re the one who complained to me.” Tom reminds me and I stare at him for a minute, pressing my lips together tightly. “I’ll make sure to never do that again, don’t worry.” I huff, walking away from him. 

Sure it may have seemed like I asked for that. Maybe I was a little over dramatic with walking away but I’m happy with whatever relationship I have with Jace. Obviously, I was having a hard time with it but I shouldn’t have that thrown in my face. 

I think…

No, I shouldn’t! Screw Tom, I need to stop talking to him. Why do I do this to myself?

I make my way over to Johanna, she’s finally not around Gustav where I can talk to her myself. 

“[Name], want to go to a spa later!?” She points to a spa room and my eyes widen. Ever since performing, I’ve had a terrible ache in my back. “Yes!” I hold onto her arm excitedly. “Didn’t think you’d be that happy about a spa.” She laughs. 

“You have no idea.” I grin. “Want to bring Bill?” I look over at the black and white-haired boy who sat with Georg. He finally lost the energy he once had to annoy me. 

“Of course.” She takes a quick drink from her apple juice. 

I’m going to have to figure out who will watch my cat or just take her with me and see if they will allow her to just sit in her little cage or something. 

After eating we told Bill about the spa and we ended up letting the boys know what we were doing before sneaking off without warning. That means they had to unpack the bus without us into our rooms. Like normal the boys shared their room and then Johanna and I got our room. Tom ended up taking Springroll even though he looked against it. He, Georg, and Gustav promised to look after her. 

“Dude this is going to be amazing.” Bill shakes me from behind, he held onto my shoulders as we waited for the ladies to get their set up ready. They already got us changed into just robes. 

One lady steps out and she seems pretty nervous as she looks at us. “So, you three are going to have to be separated. One in one room and two in the other. I apologize if that’s an inconvenience.” She bows her head down in sorrow as if we were going to get pissed. I raise my hand super quick though. “I’ll be separated.” I laugh. Bill gasps. “I want to be separated.” He pouts as Johanna just looks at us like what the fuck. 

The lady seemed a lot more relaxed after we picked who was going where. Johanna is going to be separated since it’s only fair. She’s paying for the extra things. 

I ended up getting a man masseuse. This confused me because I didn’t see him in the beginning but I’m not objectifying anything, this man is attractive. I shouldn’t be thinking that though. Sadly I have a boyfriend who prevents those thoughts. 

There was still a separation between Bill and me as we had a curtain there. Once he was done cleaning off the table he helped me up and took the robe off leaving me in a towel so when I laid down he put it just below my lower back. He didn’t even look my way either. He was a gentleman y’all. 

“Is there any area you want specifically?” He asks, opening the bottle of oil. “My back, in the middle really,” I inform him, I completely laid my face into the hole and relaxed my once very tense body. I thought this was going to be weird at first but after getting the hang of everything around me it seemed nice. Also I really just need to relax in general.

Hearing Bill hum a few times I tried hard not to laugh. Then I heard the door open. My masseuse suddenly stopped, whispering to whoever opened the door and since I was closest I listened in. Bill probably wouldn’t have been able to since he chose to have music playing. Like one of those elevator types but more enjoyable. 

“Sir, you cannot be in here.” My masseuse tells the person. “I’m sorry, it’s kind of an emergency. I’m Bill’s brother.” 

Tom? Of course he ruins this for us. 

Emergency?

“Kind of an emergency?” He questions in return. “Okay, it’s an emergency for the girl. To [Name]. Well, it will be if you don’t let me tell her.” He seemed out of breath, and this started to worry me, I lifted my face up and it was very bright. Having to get used to it I see Tom playing with his hands as he was trying to convince this man to let him through. 

“Um, it’s okay,” I tell the masseuse who seemed annoyed by now. Probably thinking he wasn’t going to get paid. 

I adjust myself to sit up, covering my chest. The guy helps me put my robe back on. “What’s going on?” I roll my eyes, fixing the robe but he takes my arm and pulls me outside of the room. “Tom!? Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?” I glare at him.

“Springroll, she uh... She got loose somewhere in the hotel.” He sighs, and my eyes widen. My baby… The love of my life. Loose in a hotel… that we are only staying at for three nights. This huge ass hotel and my cat is missing. “Are you,” I cut myself off to take a deep breath. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout in a whisper-type way. He shushes me, looking around. “She couldn’t have gotten far this just happened. I let a worker know too.” He tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder but I shove it off. 

“You better fucking find her, Tom Kaulitz.” I shove his chest. “Pay for my thing for me I’m going to look for her,” I order him, running out of the room in the short-ass robe.

Tom I guess told Bill and Johanna since they are change back into their clothes and joined me in searching for my cat. 

“I’m so going to beat your brother’s ass for this.” I tear up, I stop and put a hand on my forehead. “Me too, I’m so sorry [Name].” Bill brings me into a hug and I break down crying. 

“This is my baby, we have to find her, Bill.” I push away and carry back down the hall.

It’s been 45 minutes in and we still can’t find her. We were currently separated searching for her. The workers said they would keep an eye out on her and walkie other workers to get one of us. 

“What if we can’t find her?” I mumble, tears still streaming down my face. “We will, don’t talk like that.” Bill snaps at me, and we continue down the long hallway.

“Here, let’s change the subject to sort of get your mind off this.” He starts and I deadpan at him. How is anything going to get my mind off of my Springroll? My tan tabby baby. 

“What’s your deal with Tom?” He raises an eyebrow and I give him a look. “What?” I mutter out, what the fuck does he mean. “I mean, why do you hate him so much. Growing up we were all so close. You were probably closer to him than me.” He explains, my eyes go straight to the floor then back to looking around, remembering what we were doing in the first place. I shook the treat bag one more time before speaking up. 

“It’s not my place to speak on.” I bite on my bottom lip and he stops suddenly. “[Name], you two obviously aren’t over it. Please just tell me.” I stop as well and turn to face him since he was now a few steps behind. “Bill, it’s not important right now. My cat is missing. I’m not worrying about my relationship with your twin brother.” I exclaim a little bit louder than intended. Shaking the bag again I continue looking. 

It was silent for a few moments before he speaks again. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He apologizes. I just hum, turning the hall. “I think it’s best we go different ways. I’ll talk to you about it later.” I frown, he just says okay and does as I say. Going in the other direction.

Thinking about what he asked I fixed my robe once more, tying it tighter. 

Why would he ask that so suddenly? Why I and Tom didn’t like each other anymore. He didn’t even question it when it happened I figured he knew or was told. I thought it was something everyone knew but didn’t speak on. 

Maybe I was wrong.

“I like you [Name], I do.” He tells me and I smile sweetly. “Then ask me out already.” I grab onto his arm, leaning my head onto his shoulder as we sat side by side on my porch in the backyard by the pool. “Not yet.” He whispers. 

“If you like me, what’s stopping you?” I laughed, not exactly understanding what was happening. “[Name], you deserve someone better.” He explains and I look up at him. “You’re quite enough, Tom.” I stare into his eyes as he sadly looked back into mine. “Not yet…” He repeats.

“I’m leaving, anything you want to say?” I ask in a hopeful tone towards Tom who just sat on the couch with a blank expression. “Have fun.” He mumbles. I make my way over to him and place my hands on my hips. “That's it? I’m leaving for five months and that’s it?” I scrunch my nose, confused as he just sat there. “[Name] we can’t be together, stop holding onto something that is not there!” He suddenly exasperates and I take a single step back.

I blink a few times, mainly holding back tears but not understanding what he is saying. “You said you liked me.” I simply state. “You said eventually we’d be something. Your words have me holding on. If you had just told me this was going to be a waste I would’ve been done a long time ago.” My voice breaks embarrassingly as I try my hardest not to raise or lower my voice. 

“You told me the distance wouldn’t hurt us.” I cried out, he gets up from his spot and suddenly I feel stupid for even saying anything. Realizing we’re only 14, how could 14-year-olds be so dramatic. 

“It’s not the distance. It’s me. I can’t do it.” He goes to touch me but I step back again. “Why?” 

He just stares at me in response.

“Tom. Don’t speak to me when I come back.” I walk out of the room. 

Looking back at it, it was pretty dramatic. And hey, it could be but he gave me a lot of confusing gestures. He was sweet to me, he did everything that a normal boyfriend would do. He just wouldn’t put the label or do anything in public and I never understood why. 

When I came back though he did as I asked, he never spoke a word but that turned into us arguing and then it was constant. We couldn’t stand each other. Now here we are 17 and 18 years old still hating each other for no reason other than we decided not to date at 14 almost 15 years old. 

When I came back after those five months I had turned 15 and met Jace. Since Tom hated him off the bat I dated him in spite of Tom. Maybe not the best way to start a relationship but he loved me. He showed me things I never knew about myself.

I will never tell him why our relationship started but that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. 

“[Name]!!!” A voice screams down the hall and my head snaps their way. It was Tom holding Springroll as he ran over to me, I met him halfway and took her from his arms. “Oh my fucking god!” I screamed, sliding against the wall to the ground, holding Sringroll to my face. 

“Don’t do that again, you stupid cunt.” I whispered in her ear and Tom laughed, kicking my legs. “Cover your legs.” He mutters just loud enough for me to hear as people started walking past. I look down and remember I’m in a robe, doing as he told I shake my head. Utterly embarrassed.

“Nice pink underwear though. Gotta say I didn’t see you as the type.” He laughs and I kick his shins causing him to hiss, falling next to me.

“Thank you,” I say after we calmed down a bit. I turn my head to look at him, he was looking at the wall across from us. 

“I’m sorry for losing her.” He turns his face and we end up being centimeters apart. Our noses almost touched. For a moment we sit there just silent. It felt entrancing. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I was stuck. 

It felt like he was getting closer, our noses now scraping each other every time we breathed.

Springroll makes a high-pitched meow and I let out a breath pushing back from the trance I felt myself once in. His eyes squeezed shut, mentally cursing at himself. 

“I uh, I gotta change and apologize to my masseuse.” I awkwardly laugh, using his knee I stood up. He just nods and I speed walk down the hall, once he was out of sight I leaned against another wall. Taking in a deep breath. 

What was that?

Honestly, I had no idea what this chapter was going to be and I wasn't even going to have drama in another chapter but this was fun and I wanted to start giving a little backstory on their hatred for each other. This is also I think the longest chapter so far. Crazy crazy.