#the way it's the exact OPPOSITE of a turn on and i just wanna burn my ID papers and run to the mountains to become a nameless goat herd

[pit-and-the-pen]

Hi hi hi - saw your requests are open and I just NEED needy Azriel, I mean I want this man to be so downright desperate, hands and knees type beat just to touch and feel reader. Give me all the begging and dare I say….subby Az?

I give you full creative control on if you wanna add plot or not! Love your writing!!!

I am not used to writing desperate men so I hope I did this justice.

warnings: Smut (+18), begging, slight orgasm denial (more prolonging), teasing, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), wing play, Azriel just being needy and horny. Mostly unedited (per usual),

WC: 2.5k

Azriel assumed that this is what dying felt like. Well not really. He had been close to death enough times to know that this was the exact opposite. It felt like he was burning. It was rare that they got sent on different missions, even rarer still for one to get sent out without the other. But this mission required no males to be present and that left Azriel far away from his mate. Selfishly, he missed you. You were just doing your job. Helping evacuate a temple of priestesses and taking them to safety. But he wanted you here, back beside him in his bed. 

Every day still felt like the frenzy to him. More often than not the two of you are sneaking away to some corner or closet. He kept waiting for it to go away, for the day when his blood didn’t rage through him at the sight of you but the day never came. Not that he was complaining, you were the most beautiful female he had ever seen in his long life, and you were more than well aware of the effect that had on him. 

So he suffered. Days turned into a week and he had to leave your house entirely. Even being able to smell you on the sheets was making every inch of him ache. It didn’t do any good. No amount of training with Cass or burying himself in work. Nothing. Feyre and Rhys assured him that it was no trouble for him to stay but Azriel noted the wide birth the couple gave him as the days stretched on. Even his shadows were affected, either disappearing completely or swirling around him like a tornado. Whispering in his ears questions of where you were, where the small shadow that lived around your wrist was and just exactly why it had been so long without you. 

Azriel felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin and was about to lay into his brother for kissing Feyre in front of him when a shadow alerted him of someone entering your shared home. Not just anyone. You. He was out of the townhouse faster than he could blink, winnowing right to your front door. The front door that was still open, you just stepped through it. He stood still for a heartbeat. Only enough time for your smell to flood him. It was like a drop of rain after crawling through a desert. He took three long steps until he was able to wrap you in his arms. He felt all the tension leave his body at the felling.[A low rumble left his chest as he just held you tight against him, drinking in the feeling of your arms returning the embrace. Your hands were rubbing small circles into the middle of his back doing nothing to help the desire that was starting to burn through him. A small noise left your mouth as he scented his own arousal in the room, felt his body respond to the soft touches. 

You tried to pull out of his hold, peering up at his face slightly but he refused to let his arms loosen. Only pulling you tighter against him. Your hands trailed their way up his back, being mindful of his wings, until your fingers were resting in the shorter hairs on the back of his head, scratching at the skin there. Another low rumble pushed out from his chest, closer to a purring noise. 

“Sweetheart.” His voice was tight enough that you couldn’t help but look at his face now. He saw your lips part slightly as you took in his flushed face, knowing his pupils must have been blown wide at the crushing need that was racing through him. His shadows wrapped around the two of you, cocooning you in their warm darkness. 

“Did you miss me that much?” Your hand was now trailing down over his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest and lower until your hand had just brushed the front of his pants. 

The air whipped around both of you and you tried to adjust to the dim lights of your bedroom. 

Azriels hands were all over you. Tugging at the layers of your clothing. The silk overdress you wore was pulled over your head and thrown onto the floor. 

Azriel pulled on the strings of your corset, the stupid garment taunting him with every second it was still on your gorgeous skin. He pawed uselessly at the binding, all thumbs as you lightly giggled. He let his head rest on your shoulder. “Gods, please just get it off.” He mumbled against your soft skin. He felt your small nod and the flex of your shoulders as you went to unlace it yourself. Steadier fingers having it off in a matter of seconds. He pulled his head up and was greeted with you only in a thin under dress. That he could handle. Wasting no more time, he gripped the hem of the dress and pulled it over your head, throwing it into the same pile as your skirt. He whined,whined, at the sight of your bare skin. The slight swell of your breast, the  fullness of your stomach that was so soft under his scarred hands, wide hips that were perfect for him to grab onto. He looked at you like every inch of you was carved by the mother herself. 

He couldn’t stop himself as he sank onto his knees, like that golden thread was tied lower than normal. “Az..” You started, breath hitching as he slung your leg over his shoulder. He bit back a moan at the smell of your arousal. He wanted to drown in it. Glancing up at you, he could see your mind still far away. 

“Please. Want to make my mate feel good.” He groaned into the plushness of your inner thigh. The vibrations of his voice sending a shiver through you. Your head had barely nodded your yes before he dove in between your legs. He let out a loud throaty moan at the first swipe of his tongue between your folds. His arm going to wrap around your waist to keep you upright. Your back arched into his touch, bucking your hip when he latched onto your clit. His name was flowing out of your mouth as your hands tangled into his hair. Azriel let out a high whimper that lit your whole body on fire. You pull again and are met with the same high sound from him, matched with him trusting his tongue in and out of you. Your legs threatened to give out underneath you as he slid a thick finger into you. Eyes squeezing closed and throwing your head back as he alternated between slow languid flicks of his tongue and fast driving thrust with his fingers. You were racing towards your orgasm, and let your mate know as much 

“So close, Azzy” you moaned, legs trembling at trying to stay upright. His answering moan vibrating through you. Your toes curled against the floor, back arching pushing you closer to him and you were just about to tip over the edge when he pulled away, finger stilling inside you. 

“Az, what?” You were panting, head still a little fuzzy with the orgasm that was ripped away from you. He just shook his head, tongue sweeping out to clean off his face. He pulled his fingers out of you, a move that had you whining at the loss of feeling. Azriel rose to his full height and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your lips to his. You could taste yourself on his tongue and it only made you deepen the kiss. His hands snaked down to the back of your thighs and you didn’t hesitate to let him lift you up, ankles locking behind his back. You thought he would carry you to the bed across the room but you instead felt one of the walls press against your back. 

“I missed you so much.” Azriel said into the sensitive skin of your neck before he sucked harshly on the skin. You rocked your hips against his, desperate for relief. Azriel pulled his head away from your neck to look you in the eyes. His pupils were so wide there was no sign of that comforting hazel. 

“Show me how much you missed me then.” A slight smirk graced your face when you heard his sharp inhale. He pressed his hips into yours, meeting your small motion. He swore lightly under his breath, a hand instantly going to fumble with the ties of his pants. Your own hands reached down to help since your position didn’t give him a lot of leverage. The two of you had his pants pulled down just enough to free his throbbing cock. You felt the bead of precum as it pressed against your stomach. His forehead pressed against yours as you reached down to line him up with your aching hole. He pressed his hips forward and he stilled after an inch. His breathing was already heavy and his wings twitched behind him. 

“Missed this too. Gods.” he pushed in until your thighs met, settling all the way in. Your head fell against the wall with a soft thud. “All I could think of was being inside you. How much I missed the way you feel around me, the way you taste.” His words were punctuated by long, slow pushes of his hips. You knew your nails were digging into his shoulders as every snap of his hips sent you up the wall. 

“Az, harder.” You stuttered out. He was moving too slow and as amazing as he felt you needed his faster, harder. Needed him everywhere. He rested his head into the crook of your neck, shaking his head in a no. 

“Want to take my time with you.” 

“Az please.” 

Another shake of his head and when you tried to press your heel into the small of his back, he wrapped a gentle hand around your ankle to stop the motion. At the contact you let your leg slide closer to the ground. Azriel looked up at your face, concern lined in his eyes. He pulls away from you and places a gentle hand under your chin. You don’t speak, just place a hand on the center of his chest and push lightly, he backs up until his legs are hitting the edge of the bed and you gently give him one last push so he’s laying on his back. You’re quick to climb onto his lap, sinking back onto him with a low moan. 

“Darling. What-” His cheeks are stained red and his voice comes out far breathier than you normally hear from the spymaster. Your thighs meet his stomach and he attempts to grab at your hips. 

“Oh no. You said you wanted to take your time, so we’ll take all the time I want.” You saw as you raised yourself off of him slightly and sank back down. He groans a broken version of  your name. Hands once again going to grab your hips. You let out an exasperated sigh and take his wrists in your hand. You press them above your head. And he could push you away in a second if he really wanted to, overpower you in a heartbeat. But he lets you keep his wrists pinned to the mattress, shadows swirling around the tanned skin under your hands, helping you hold him down you realized. “Keep them right there, Az.” You whisper into his ear, lips ghosting over the shell. He shudders slightly but nods his head. You release your hands from around his wrist and go to trail a single finger along the hard outline of his wings. He throws his head back, eyes scrunched closed as you run your nail all along the outside. Soft and steady. You reach the end and repeat the motion on the other side. 

“Gods. Please. Sweetheart. Move please.” He whines as your tongue licks along the same path of your finger. “Point made. Gods, just move.”

“I don’t think I will.” You breath against the sensitive membrane of his wings and you feel him throb inside of you. You pay it no mind, moving your hips at the perfect angle that your clit is rubbing against the hard planes of his stomach. A moan tumbles from your lips and he makes a small whimper. You feel his arms tense as he tries to tug against his shadows, but it seems that they took your warning more seriously that he did as they don’t let him budge. He bucks his hips, throwing all of his strength into the motion and you move on him. No amount of bracing could keep you fully seated. But you only give him that one thrust before you shift your attention back to his wings. 

His breathing is short and huffed as you alternate between licking and trailing your fingers against his wings. You sit up enough to see his face, his eyes are shut tight, the muscle in his jaw ticking with how hard he’s clenching his teeth together. 

Taking the opportunity, you give him a soft bite on his collarbone at the same time you lift your hips up. You move until he’s almost slipping out of you before you push back down. His wings flare out underneath him. His eyes open to look at you fully now. 

“Please. You made your point. Gods please. Move.” He babbles, sounding winded. His hands are clutching the sheet above his head. You surge forward to capture his lips as you start to really move. His hands are instantly on your hips, guiding you up and down on his long length. And you let him. You could tell he was already close, riled up from you playing with his wings for so long. 

“Wait. Sweetheart.” He whimpers out, trying to get you to slow down again. Trying to get you to cum before he does. But you only speed up your motions, 

“But you’ve been so good for me, Az.” 

“Want you.. This was supposed to be about you.” You ignore him again, closing your eyes and pushing your chest out at how good he feels. The way he fills every inch of you, the smooth glide of him against your walls. The only sounds are your moans and your skin meeting together. His hips meet yours perfectly with every thrust. Moans are tumbling out of his lips like sweet music. His hands squeeze your hips and hold you against him as he shudders underneath you. He comes with a roar and you moan loudly when you feel him empty inside of you. He keeps his grip tight as you ride him through it. You go to slide off of him but before you can you’re back is on the mattress, him hovering over you. 

“I’m going to enjoy every second of this.” He says before he lowers his lips to yours and makes you cry his name over and over again.

[lovebugism]

Having a unserious argument with band AU!Eddie and there’s a moment where you both stare at each other and then his eyes flick down to ur lips. Which leads to you making out and forgetting about what the argument was about in the first place

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

You knew the argument was stupid, but you also knew you were too mad to care. 

Like, otherworldly levels of mad. Levels that feel nearly unprecedented, even though you’re well aware it’s over something so damn mundane. 

Night of the Living Dead was playing at a drive-in in the same city the Corroded Coffin tour bus had parked in for the next few days. And Eddie wanted to take you. He said he’s wanted to take you out for weeks now, but your schedules just hadn’t allowed him the time to do so. 

His van hasn’t gotten much use in quite some time either. It’s just been dragging behind the tour bus and rusting more every time it rains. You, Gareth, and Jeff all told him that he wouldn’t have much time to drive it anywhere, but Eddie only said that “it broke his heart too bad to leave her behind.” 

Now, he’s glad that he didn’t. It’ll be good to take you for a drive in it, to roll the windows down and turn the radio all the way up, to watch you in between watching the road and pretend like you’re teenagers again.

And it was really cute, how excited he’d been to take you to see a film you’d both seen a thousand times over. “Taking you to a drive-in actually sounds super fun, babe, and I don’t even mean that in a pervy way. I just wanna spend time alone with you,” he’d told you before smirking. “Even though I won’t be opposed to a little heavy petting.”

It was real adorable. Until you started to get all philosophical about zombies, that is.

Eddie tried to tell you that zombies were still human after they turned. You scoffed when you disagreed, telling him that if that were the case, you wouldn’t have to use the word turned to describe them — that you wouldn’t even need the word zombies at all. 

He refused to listen to you, though, and kept on saying that they were “basically still humans but insane.”

And if you’d told yourself an hour or more ago that the two of you would be in a screaming match over this exact thing, you would’ve laughed. But now that it’s your reality, you’re absolutely fuming about it.

“They aren’t human anymore, Eds!” you argue in the confines of the bunk room, shielded only by the sliding door that does little to stifle your argument. You flail your hands around like crazy, eyes wide and glinting with annoyance. “It’s like a parasitic relationship! The zombie is just inhabiting the body of the dead human. Like a— I don’t know— like a fucking hermit crab or something.”

“They turn to zombies because they’re infected, right? Do you stop being a human because you get a little virus?” he retorts with a teasing lilt that only angers you more. “No! You don’t! It’s the same thing!”

“It’s not the same thing!” 

“Well, you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about it!”

“I know what I’m talking about, asshole! I’m just not gonna listen to a guy who failed senior year three times!” you shout back, obviously angry and irrational with it. 

You would’ve apologized for trying to hit him where it hurts if you saw that it had upset him in some way. But it doesn’t. Instead, he just keeps on teasing you.

“Ooh, you wanna kiss me so fucking bad,” he sing-songs to you, at you, with furrowed brows and lips set in a slight pout like a child.

That does little to quell your rage. Quite the opposite, really. He keeps dousing the fire in your chest with gasoline. You can feel the flames starting to prickle at your burning skin. But you make the mistake of flitting your gaze down to his mouth, only for half of a moment, but long enough for him to catch it. He grins, feeling like he’s won in some way.

“That’s okay, baby. You didn’t have to get all angry about it. If you wanted to kiss me, you coulda just said—”

“I hate you so fucking much,” you grumble to yourself, crossing your arms as you start to storm out of the room.

Eddie doesn’t let you get very far, though. His long legs rush the short distance over to you. He wraps two lanky arms around your frame and cages your own within his too tight embrace. You feel his chest rumble with the loud laugh that spills from his mouth, the breath of it on your skin when he noses at the junction between neck and shoulder.

“This is really fucking dumb,” he says with a hearty chuckle.

“Yeah, you are dumb, you’re right,” you monotone in return, not conceding to this imagined argument but not trying to squirm in his hold either.

“Hey! I’m trying to extend the olive branch here, alright?” 

“Whatever…”

He smacks a loud kiss on your shoulder and loosens his grip on you when he’s sure you’re not still angry enough to storm out. You are, though — still angry — but rather than leave, you turn around to face him. Your scowl is met with a beam from the boy ahead of you.

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree, alright, doll?” Eddie tells you with a shrug, trying his best to stop the argument without either of you having to admit you were wrong.

“I don’t know,” you lilt. “I think this might be a deal breaker for me, Eds.”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that…. What’ll happen to the band?” he teases.

You feign a sad sigh. “Guess you’ll have to find another bassist, Eds.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, doll? The fans’ll be real upset if the world’s best bassist is suddenly MIA.”

You purse your lips to the side and flit your eyes to the ceiling, pretending to think about his offer. Your attempt to ignore all the butterflies fluttering in your stomach is futile when he starts to rub his palms up and down your arm, in a soft and soothing rhythm. His touch quells your anger, puts out your fire without really even trying. No one can strike a flame within you, make it burn all big and bright, then douse it with cool, sparkling water quite like Eddie can.

It feels good not to be angry anymore. You’ll be able to laugh about it soon. 

Not now, though.

“Well, you’re going to take me to the drive-in tomorrow night and you’re gonna buy me all the snacks that I want—”

“I can do that,” he nods firmly.

“And halfway through the movie, I want to stop watching it and watch you while you eat me out in the back of your van—”

He sputters out a laugh. “I can definitely do that.”

“And until then, you’re gonna kiss me silly, Eddie Munson.”

The grin he flashes you then is no less teasing than it had been before, but it doesn’t make you nearly as angry. Instead, it makes you smile, too.

“I knew this was just a ploy to get me to makeout with you,” he lilts and presses the first of many kisses to the tip of your nose. “You don’t have to get all angry next time, alright? I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”

“Promise?” you wonder playfully, already knowing the answer. You just want to hear him say it.

“I can show you better than I can tell you,” he quips.

It takes no more than twenty seconds for him to get you into your bunk and squeeze in over top of you. In record time, he’s kissing you absolutely breathless — like he won’t be satisfied until he’s swallowed you whole. You want so desperately for him to. 

And if your mouth wasn’t kiss-bitten and half-numb, if your lungs weren’t screaming for air every time he kissed you, and your brain wasn’t aching for him to keep kissing you every time he stopped — you might’ve made some stupid joke. You would’ve teased him, told him how obedient he was to listen to you without question, just to drive him crazy.

But you can’t. Because he’s kissed you so insanely stupid, he’s the only thought in your head.

And if Eddie’s this perfect now — just moments after a stupid argument that had you both seeing red — you can’t imagine what he’ll be like tomorrow. As the rough pad of his tongue ruts against your own, you imagine how he’ll feel in between your legs when he’s got them bent over his shoulders in the back of his van.

[abiiors]

silent treatment 💫 // ross macdonald x reader

a/n: this is not a christmas fic, this is just something that i had in my drafts for like a month now because @the1975attheirverybest sent me a photo of ross' tour bus (the one in the banner) from when she went to the baltimore show and of course i had nasty ideas about it lmao. so yes, here we go--the tour bus fucking fic hehe. i'm still really struggling with writer's block and hate everything i have been writing so this might be a bit shit :/ cw: brat-taming kinda, smut obv, dirty talk??? general nasty behaviour wc: 2.2k

american fans are loud. 

well, all fans are loud; it’s not really a bad thing to be, but the american ones are especially loud, you’ve noticed. cheers and shouts and whoops of joy at the airport, and a collective roar that tears through the crowd every time the boys come on stage—it’s all part of the world. his world. your world. 

girls shriek and cry wherever he goes, hugging him—their bodies pressed against his, their hands holding his, boldly flirting with him too sometimes. sure, he ignores it and only smiles politely. sure, he only signs their stuff and indulges them for selfies but the burn in your chest remains just the same. dull but prominent. 

all in all, he likes america and america likes him. you? maybe not so much. 

still, it’s not all hate. it’s fun being on the tour bus and driving through the big wide expanses of the midwest, certainly fun when his hand is buried between your legs and the other muffling your moans. fun to watch your nails digging into his thigh as you chase the high over and over again before falling limp against his chest. 

today, however, you skew more towards annoyance. 

he’s been so busy, he hasn’t even had the time to look at you properly much less talk to you for longer than ten minutes—what with having to leave one city and go to the other immediately. it’s been hectic and he’s seized the chance to nap whenever he can, just like polly and john who share the bus with you. not that you blame him for it—the exact opposite of it, in fact—you’re grateful for any rest he can get. 

but the brattiness rears its ugly head sometimes. and now as you stand there in a corner, watching the instruments being taken out of their truck and brought backstage, you can’t help but bite angrily on the lollipop in your mouth. 

ross is on the phone across the room, talking to a friend or a colleague or maybe even family. you don’t know. what you do know is his eyes are trained on you and you alone—rather, on your lips closed around the lollipop, on the sticky residue on your lips. your eyes in turn move to his hand—the one gripping the phone in a vice-like grip, knuckles almost white. 

it only takes him another ten seconds to end the call and cross the room. and now here he is—towering over you, looking down at you. 

“what’s up with you?”

you shrug, tongue flat against the sweet candy, “nothing.”

“nothing?” his voice is low. mostly to conceal it from the people all around you but also full of warning. so you’ve irked him then… good.

you choose not to answer, giving the lollipop a small lick instead. there’s barely any left now but you plan to enjoy every last bit of it. 

“what, don’t wanna talk to me now?”

“me?” you ask, exaggerating the confusion in your voice. testing the boundaries. 

“yes, you,” his eyes flash a little, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

it’s a dangerous game to play with him, especially the way his pupils dialate every time you swirl your tongue around the last bit of the candy, relishing it thoroughly and letting its sweetness linger on your lips. 

ross leans down, mouth directly next to your ear. “you can be a brat all you want, sweet girl. as long as you’re ready for the consequences.”

and before you’ve had the chance to reply, he bends down and closes his mouth around the rest of the lollipop. a loud crunch cuts through the silence. he straightens, smiles like nothing’s out of the ordinary and leaves you holding the now empty white stick.

ross is busy talking to the organisers of a local artists’ collective. 

he laughs and chats animatedly and listens to them talking about how much they value this opportunity that the band has created. their voices are loud and boisterous—happy, giddy, excited. a complete contrast to you sulking in the corner, scrolling through tiktok and watching one pointless video after another. 

his eyes flick to you once in while, linger on you when matty takes over the conversation. you see the warning in them so clearly. don’t be a baby. don’t pout. but you ignore and double down. if he doesn’t want to give you attention then you’re not going to beg for it. no matter how much you want to pull him into some broom closet and show him exactly what he’s missing. 

you cross and uncross your legs and send him a look. 

look what you to do me. 

he sends one back. 

busy. not now.

so you go back to your phone. scroll, a makeup tutorial, scroll, ten must buy amazon things, scroll, movies to watch this winter, scroll— a snap of his fingers breaks through your monotony. 

“come share a fag with me.”

you take your sweet time looking and him an deciding if you’re in the mood to smoke, even go so far as to make him ask again. 

“well?”

“sure.”

it’s quieter once you’re outside. there’s still the sounds of traffic and a bit of laughter floating out from the inside. somewhere someone’s playing a familiar tune and you watch ross light his cigarette. the fire casts a warm glow on his jaw briefly, on his stubble that’s coming in once again after shaving it off for halloween. 

the skin on the inside of your thighs stings from the memory. 

“open,” he says and you obey, letting him stick the end of the cigarette between your lips and taking a drag. the smoke burns but with some satisfaction you see the lipstick smudge you left behind. 

ross is just taking his own drag when you blow the smoke on his face and shrug when quirks an eyebrow. 

“generous of you to take five minutes out of your busy schedule.”

“careful, love,” he warns and lets you take another drag of the cigarette. “don’t be a brat. you know i’m busy.”

“you’re always busy.”

“is that so?” 

he looks amused and it riles you up even more. he’s the one that’s supposed to be affected, not you! a beat of silence passes and ross slowly drags his fingers up your arms leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

“my gorgeous girl,” he says and presses a kiss to your shoulder, moving his mouth to your jaw and then to your collarbone. “are you mad at me?”

“no.”

“no?”

you fight to contain the shiver that passes through you. even when you can feel the little tingles intensifying throughout your body. need swirls through your stomach the more his mouth moves on your neck.

“then what’s this silent treatment for, huh?”

“what silent treatment?”

“oh, baby,” ross tuts and his stubble grazes over the sensitive skin of your neck. “you really wanna play dumb?”

every retort flies out of your brain when he grabs a hold of your hips and pulls you close to him. 

“you know what happens to dumb little bunnies, right?”

“y-yes.” it’s almost a whimper that quickly turns into a half moan when his hand rests on the back of your thighs, trailing up and up and up until it’s almost on the curve of your ass. 

you yelp when he pinches the skin. 

“you want to be fucked that bad, huh?”

and now you finally have him where you want. 

“so now you want to be loud,” ross mocks and dives back under your dress. 

this torture has lasted for a good ten minutes now. the insides of your thighs already feel raw and chafed. and he hasn’t even properly started yet. he’s still busy marking up the smooth skin of your legs. 

“always a good girl when you want something from me, aren’t you?”

you nod fervently, trying to stifle the mewl that’s about to leave your mouth. instead you clutch his head and try to push him where you want. ross is quicker. before you ever know it, his hand it wrapped around your wrists and he pulls back again, looking at you with yet another warning glare. 

his hair is a mess, his mouth wet from leaving all those kiss and bites on your skin but it’s his eyes that really get you—pupils blown out so wide that his eyes might as well be black. 

“please ross, please,” you whine, shamless and desperate and dying for his mouth to be back on you. 

“please what?”

“please make me cum.”

your pout has stopped affecting him a long time ago, even when you look at him with teary eyes and spread your legs wider. the underwear was discarded somewhere the minute you got inside the tour bus and now he has the perfect view of how wet you are. how ready for him. 

the inside of the bus feels uncomfortably hot or maybe it’s just your skin that’s sticky and sweaty and in desperate need of his touch. 

“no silent treatment anymore?”

“no,” you shake your head, “gonna be a good girl now. please please please.”

“yes, you are.” ross smiles and it feels more sinister than genuine. “i’ll stop what i’m doing if i hear another sound from you, baby.”

“w-what?”

“dumb little slut,” he mocks again, mouth so so close to your clit that it’s impossible to focus on anything else. “don’t want people to walk in on us, do you?”

“no. no!”

“then be quiet for me.”

easy for him to say. because his lips attach around your clit at that exact moment and you bite down on the back of your hand to stop the loud moan from escaping. 

“ungrateful, spoiled little brat,” ross tuts, presses his tongue flat against your opening. “look at you now.”

the heady mix of big and small licks makes your head spin, makes you want to cry out his name over and over again but for the sake of your sanity you stay quiet. for each small whimper that still manages to escape you, you feel a small sting on your thigh—a nip or a bite.

“my sweet, filthy girl,” he coos, ghosting his lips over each bruise, each bite and goes back to torturing your cunt. 

“ross, can i–oh! can i cum, please!”

“gonna cum for me, already?” he teases and pulls away entirely. “and what if i said no.”

the look you give him is one full of desperation—tears gathered on your lower lashline, bottom lip swollen and red from bitting hard to keep quiet.

“please!”

“no.”

and that’s that, just like that his head is back between your legs, tongue hot on your cunt as his nose pushed into your clit. between trying to stay quiet and trying not to cum you barely have any grip on reality. all you know is how it feels too much, too much pleasure, bordering on pain now. the urge to let go is too strong. 

“let me ask you again, baby,” his voice comes through the haze in your mind. barely even audible. “are you done with the silent treatment?”

“y-yes, m’sorry!” you whine, “won’t do it again. wont—”

“look at you…” his condescending tone somehow turns you on even more. the humiliation somehow adds to the pleasure. “ready to be my good girl again?”

“yes, yes!” the buzzing in your ears is so loud now, his voice barely even comes through. all you know is the feeling of his tongue inside you and the stinging of your thighs. the sticky sweat on your skin. 

your legs shake from the strain of denying yourself an orgasm, your head swims with too much of everything and nothing all at once. 

“go on then,” he speaks. finally. “you can let go now.”

all you manage is a long whine and every single restraint drops. you think you grip his head between your thighs, practically convulsing from the force of the orgasm that hits you, trembling from the way his tongue laps everything up. it’s beyond you how he manages to hold you upright. 

you think you scream out his name, practically alerting everyone in a five kilometre radius. you think you pull on his hair and hear him hiss. but ross lets you. 

minutes later when he finally stands, his beard and mouth glistens with slick. 

“there’s my good girl,” he coos and holds you in his arms. 

“look at me,” he coaxes a bit until you manage to open your eyes and look at him properly. despite how fucked he looks, there’s a sweet smile on his face. and his eyes soften when you meet his gaze. “sorry i ignored you before, love. don’t be mad at me.”

“m’not mad at you.” you mumble and every single negative emotion from before melts away within seconds. 

“good.” his smile widens, just a touch of mischievous once again. “now that you’ve learned your lesson… let me make it up to you.” 

and just like that, he’s back on his knees, diving between your legs once again. 

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <33

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[toracre]

Love Line!

Taking shelter in the shade under a tree, Azul searches for peace to soothe the ache in his head. That is, until a certain someone comes along presenting a lovely idea. Why not recreate this idea with them? Oh well, Azul will entertain their idea, in a different way.

tags: accidental love confessions!!, theyre both stupid

"Hey."

Azul hears a voice behind him chirp.

Seeking shelter from the burning sun under a tree, Azul had hoped to not be bothered. He had simply wanted to seek refuge against the pounding in his skull.

With a sigh, "Is there something you needed?"

"I hope you're aware that Coach Vargas is not one to tolerate people slacking off or playing around during his class." An unamused expression dawning Azul's face as he says this.

The octopus was quite used to your antics by now. Suggestions of grandiose- or 'ridiculous' ideas, as Azul puts it, were not surprises when heard coming from your mouth. From ideas like building a burger taller than the school, to things like shoving Floyd into a toilet to make him supposedly 'recreate' a certain video from back in your world. You truly had it all.

"You know, if anything, you're the one slacking off in Sir Vargas' class! You're the one sitting under a tree acting all sad and lonely." Your accusations towards Azul did NOT help the pounding in his poor little octopus head. Not even one bit. It was doing the exact opposite of helping, actually.

Defensive is what you could use to describe the octopus right now, as much as he'd deny it. What makes you believe you have the right to accuse someone like him of slacking off during classes?

"I'll have you know, I've already completed the assigned task that Coach Vargas had given us. From what I've observed, you haven't even completed 5 laps you were meant to run." Oh, coming in just now, Mr. Azul Ashengrotto has turned the tables around with a smug look on his face! Will the prefect be able to catch up and defend themselves?

"I'm too tired to do all of that," you pout "and anyway, everyone knows you can't catch a break with Sir Vargas. Even if you're done with the task, he's gonna make you do one billion more things after that!!"

Azul relents, the prefect can be quite clever when they want to be. Just like during his overblot. Though, he wonders if it would be a good idea to tell them about his undying migraine. Perhaps they'll be able to find a clever solution for it. Oh wait, nevermind, they'll just come up with another ridiculous idea again.

"Fine, I suppose you're right." Sighing once more, "But you still haven't answered my initial question. What exactly do you need from me?"

You plop yourself down under the tree as well, "I just wanna talk to my best pal! Is something really so wrong with that!" Making yourself comfortable on the grass next to him, you make eye contact with Azul. Doesn't he have such pretty blue eyes and soft wavy hair? Would he look even prettier without glasses? How could someone so pretty have such a great personality too? Why is he always so put together even wh- Wait what?

"I'm not so sure if you can consider us 'best pals,'" Ouch, that stings. "I do hope you don't intend to talk to me about your ridiculous ideas again. Please, you're enabling Jade and Floyd to do just the same."

"Well, guess what, I'm not gonna do that!! Because my ideas aren't ridiculous!" In Azul's eyes, you probably look like you're throwing a tantrum right now. With you sounding so genuinely upset and all that. Perhaps you are upset, but not for the reason the octopus sitting beside you would believe. Your ideas being called ridiculous over and over couldn't be less of a concern than it is, the statement holds some truth after all. However, why couldn't you two be considered best pals? Did you not meet Azul's requirements to be considered a friend, a close associate yet?

"Right.. pl-" "Do you have a crush on anyone, Azul?"

...

"..Pardon?"

"You heard me."

...

Oh, the atmosphere couldn't be any more awkward than it already is. You can't just drop that out of nowhere, what are you doing?! Azul looks at you with a slightly uncomfortable face, not even he could mask his discomfort.

Well, that helped though. The awkwardness managed to remove his focus from the absolute headache he was having a minute ago. "Sorry, what instigated this question...?" Eye contact broken. He seems to be looking everywhere else other than at you now. The previously shown discomfort on his face had been masked, however bits of shyness still manage to escape.

The look on your face told him absolutely nothing. You seemed to hold not a care in the world, not a single thought in your mind.

Still with a completely neutral face, "Do you have a crush on Jamil?" It's almost as if you were playing a guessing game. What was Azul meant to say? While the cogs turned in his head, a fly flew in and out of yours.

"No. Jamil is a person of interest, but it is only becaus-" "Well, you should!"

Huh? What did you just say? Did you seriously just tell Azul who he should be interested in? Sometimes you were clueless and bold, but isn't it too much this time? A look of confusion from the octopus is garnered, he only blinks at you. "Why?"

In anticipation of whatever RIDICULOUS answer you'll give him, he prepares himself. "Because Jamil has a crush on me!" Had you hated him? Your wish was for Azul to give his heart to one who wouldn't be able to return theirs. Were you mad? Despite the preparations and the already existing expectation for a stupid answer, the octopus couldn't help but feel more confused.

"And what does that have to do with it? If Jamil truly loves you, why would you want me to love him?" Azul squinted at you. For once, he wasn't sure what you were trying to achieve from this idea. Through the development of your friendship, or whatever it was you had, he had learned your patterns and how to read you.

Unfortunately for him, at this very moment, you were unreadable. He had not the slightest clue of why you're doing this or what you're thinking. Jade's signature spell would be quite useful right now.

You beamed at him, "so that we can recreate a crazy love triangle trope!"

...

"Love.. triangle?" Although unsure of the meaning, at least he had an idea where this was leading.

"Yeah! It's where Person A has a crush on Person B, but Person B has a crush on Person C, but Person C has a crush on Person A! It's crazy!"

Recreate? Wait.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken but..-"

"-you have a crush on me?"

A shocked expression slowly creeps its way onto your face. Good job.

"Perhaps you truly didn't think this through, prefect." You wish you could wipe the smirk off his face while he says that. Alas, you face the consequences of your own stupidity.

Shame, embarrassment, humiliation, you could feel all of it at once. You opted for staring down at the grass. Just like that, Mr. Azul Ashengrotto takes the lead and turns the tables once more! This time, it seems as though the prefect has no chance at redemption.

You felt him shift in the grass, "The situation we're currently in now, I suppose it is more of a love line."

"Love line?"

"Ah, of course. Allow me to return the favor and explain this to you, prefect. It's where Person A and Person B both have feelings towards Person C."

You blink. "I don't get it."

Mr. Octopus doesn't seem to elaborate any further, looking at you expectantly. This is a puzzle for you to solve on your own.

"So.. if Jamil has a crush on me... and two people have a crush on the same person, then...."

Azul smiles.

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : miles morales x (filo) reader

↳ synopsis : "ang dami mo naman tinatago, ginamit mo lang ba ako" - ikaw at sila, moira dela torre

↳ authors note : the reader being filo does nawt matter at all i jus wanna write tagalog dialogue HAHHA *translations will be provided @ the end me also say this quick & angsty :( no atsv spoilers. BOLD ITALICS are flashbacks

Dating MILES was certainly not an.. easy feat. Not only was he constantly busy, but would mysteriously disappear in random times whether at school or just simple hangouts. "I'll be quick." He says, but the next time you see him is in 3 days and he's covered in bandages.

You learned from some schoolmates that before you, there seemed to be a girl named Gwanda that he was particularly hung over about after she left.

Of course, students will be students who crave any sort of drama will try and spark up rumors. You trusted Miles, and you were hoping that your trust wasn't misplaced. He didn't seem like the type of guy to lie to you, the exact opposite infact. The boy seemed to love you more than he loved the world, he just.. it didn't hurt to be cautious.

Miles is a friendly guy. Anyone would feel hurt over a friend leaving, that's it and there's nothing more to it.

You sigh softly as you leave your classroom, Miles already waiting for you because his ended early. "Hi babe." He'll smile, grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Hi." You reply, your energy far different from his.

There's silence when you two walk, through the halls and out the schools main doors. Unlike Miles, you still lived with your parents unlike him who shared a dorm with Ganke.

"You hear about the stories going around us lately? Jeez, seems like people are more obsessed with our relationship than we are."

"Miles."

His smile disappears when he realizes you're upset or unamused.

"Are you really.. over her?"

You stop in your tracks, staring at Miles who was a few steps ahead of you. His head still turned away from you, but he feels your gaze burning into the back of his head.

He says nothing, so you continue further.

"Alam mo ba, I really tried, Miles."

You remember the sketches of a blonde haired girl in his notebook, features similar to the girl your classmates described.

He still refuses to to look at you.

"I wanted to fight for us, I really really did."

There's something about the way he talks to his parents about her,

"I miss her a lot, I hope she visits soon."

"You'll never believe who she hangs out with now..!-"

"She had the nicest smile I've ever seen."

It felt.. odd.

His head looks down to the floor, as if lost in thought.

"Pero ang hirap kapag di mo naman talaga gusto sakin."

You feel something akin to a stab to your gut when you catch a glimpse of his phone, your eyes widening slightly at the photo of Gwen and him. Of course you wouldn't have minded.. but you two were on a date, a date that happened because it was your first year of being together.

You look back at Miles, forcing a smile as if nothing had happened. As if what was supposed to be a day worth celebrating, wasn't the very same day your heart was shattered into a million pieces.

Miles finally turned to face you, his expression is mixed with sadness and confliction.

"I'm not her, Miles. I can't be her."

You wanted him to say something, anything. Anything to prove that there was a reason to keep trying in this relationship.

But there's silence, his hand slips away and you allow it.

You two stand there, suffocating in the air surrounding you. It felt so hard to even breathe with how hard you were holding in your urge to cry.

This was for the best, right? It was better for the both of you if you just.. left it there and now.

But you were just so scared that you'll regret everything and run back to him in a heartbeat, back to a boy who never truly loved you.

"You're right."

Those words cause more damage than you ever thought they could, he has no idea how two words can absolutely break a person, how hard it is to realize that a one year relationship was a lie after you gave your all for him.

"I see."

What did you expect? For him to tell you that he wasn't still inlove with a person who left him two years ago? That he didn't date you to absolutely distract himself from the fact he missed Gwen? That's absurd, impossible even.

You turn around and begin to walk away, mostly to hide the tears that were threatening to fall down your face.

It's over, right? No more overthinking, or wondering if you're not enough.

You know the truth, that's what you wanted.

But there's a lingering feeling, one that you can't quite shake off.

That there's the tiniest chance that he'll grab your hand, pull you in and tell you that it's all a misunderstanding.

And against your better judgement, you look back.

He's already walking away.

TRANSLATIONS ::

Ang dami mo naman tinatago, ginamit mo lang ba ako = There were so many things you were hiding, did you just use me?

Alam mo ba = Did you know? / You know?

Pero ang hirap kapag di mo naman talaga gusto sakin = But it's really hard if you don't really want me

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter thirty one: treachery

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marga's notes. sorry this took years to post i was dead (inside) jk lol pls blame my uni for burning me out

Perhaps, I was too ambitious to think this would be a plain sailing journey. How ironic, it's the exact opposite of what is happening. Doubt and confusion presents itself as soon as I decide to fight our fate. My mind only has perplexity and skepticism. How could it not? I mean, what do you even do when somebody claims to be your fated one but your soul rejects the notion?

The sound of the television's static travels to your ears as Kiyoomi scrolls through his phone to find a good movie to watch for the night, accompanied by the sound of your mother chopping the ingredients of your family's dinner from the kitchen, albeit somewhat muffled. Your fingers remain hovering over the laptop's keyboard, unsure if you should still continue writing when once again, various things distract you, most of them unwelcomed. As if on cure, your phone chimes for the nth time, signaling that you've received yet another text. You only let out an exasperated sigh and pick up the device, reading the message.

[7:15] Hajime: Hey, wanna vc? Just ate dinner, hope you did too :)

For some reasons you don’t know, Iwaizumi just can’t leave you alone from the moment you got off the plane, went outside the airport up until now, where you’re spending your time with your father and brother after being away from them for so long. It was heart fluttering at first, really; how excited he was to see and to be with you. However, some things are just too much sometimes, especially when all you wanted to do was watch said movie and catch up with your family. It was peace: something you craved for as of the moment because in the back of your mind, you knew that the following months would become chaotic.

The gray screen gets filled with vivid colors when Kiyoomi finally finishes setting up a random romantic comedy movie. Quickly typing out a response, you hit the send button. 

[7:17PM] You: That’s good to hear. We already ate as well. Currently watching a movie with ‘Omi and Dad right now so I won’t be able to reply after this. Have a good night :)

[7:19PM] Hajime: Ah.. okay then. Good night, soulmate <3

You pause to read his last message before finally turning the do not disturb mode on and lightly tossing the phone to the side. Heaving yet another sigh, you catch the attention of your brother who was sitting beside you.

"Do you not like this movie? We can change it if you want, it hasn't been that long anyway," your brother suggests, an eyebrow rising when you shake your head. Your dad was long asleep by the couch he usually relaxes on, probably fatigued from the week's work. You turn to your brother's gaze.

"No, just thinking…" you trail off, "what do you think of Iwaizumi?"

Kiyoomi merely shrugs, “eh, he’s fine.”

You huff, “at least give an effort to think about it more. I’m asking a serious question here, you know?”

The frustrated expression on your face causes your brother to ponder over the query a bit more before sighing, “this is difficult. We’re not even that close for me to comment on him. But he looks decent, like he can take care of you.”

His brows furrow when he perceives the slight disappointment on your face, almost as if you were expecting to hear him say negative things instead, “what’s up with you?”

“You really think he’s good?” you lightly say, eyes wandering as if lost further in your own thoughts. He hums, “yeah, something like that. But then again, you don’t need him to take care of you. You can do that yourself, and even if you can’t, you have me, or Osamu.. And his brother, Atsumu.”

He takes note of the way your face subconsciously lights up at the mention of the blonde’s name. Instinctively, it’s always him. 

“O-okay,’’ you stutter with a light blush. 

He ignores it though, it’s a topic set for another time and goes to ask instead, “mind filling me on why you suddenly ask about Iwaizumi-san?” 

Your somberness returns and once again, you look confused, doubtful, “well, he said he was my soulmate…”

Kiyoomi’s eyes widened, as if he couldn’t believe what he heard.

You don’t notice it as you continue to ramble on, “and I don’t know why but I just find it difficult to believe him and I feel guilty about that. ‘Cause I try to think about it, he doesn’t have any reason to lie to me, right? Especially since you yourself said he was a good guy. But, ugh, this is so complicated.”

“Come again?” He asks through gritted teeth, his fists starting to clench in anger. You look at him oddly, which turns to a glare in a second, annoyed that he wasn’t fully listening, “I said… I find it difficult–”

“No, not that. The one before that.”

“Ugh, I said Hajime told me he was my soulmate before. You know, the one I can’t remember? Well, at least that’s what I thought but apparently, he thinks it was a malfunction with the soulmate system. Because I can clearly remember him as my friend and yet, he insists that maybe the system distorted my memories or something like that,” you finish talking, expectantly looking at him, lurching backwards when you see his reaction, “Hey… you okay, ‘Omi? Okay.. I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to search for him anymore nor entertain soulmate stuff.. but you know how impo–”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” he abruptly stands up from the couch and quickly makes his way upstairs. You scramble to get up, “hey! Where are you going? Omi! You said you wanted to watch this movie…”

You only hear his bedroom door close as a response. 

“Geez, what got up that weirdo’s ass? So much for a movie night.. one falls asleep right away while the other has very bad mood swings,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you go back to the living room, picking up your phone and trudging upstairs to your bedroom. You unlock your phone and see messages from Osamu and another from Hajime. 

[7:30PM] Samu: Tomorrow. Here at our house. I don’t accept a no. Good night ^_^

[7:35PM] Hajime: Oh, by the way, do you want to go out tomorrow? (:

“Sorry, Haji. Don’t really want to disappoint Samu,” you whisper as you type out replies for the both of them, the guilt of not minding if you disappoint Hajime instead becomes a fleeting thought.

Before you can even raise your fist to knock, the familiar wooden front door opens widely and you are welcomed by the sight of your gray-haired best friend. He pulls you in a tight hug and mumbles curses as he buries his face in your neck, “You took too long… way too long, idiot.” 

“It was only a few years, you dramatic ass. Never took you to be a clingy type of friend,” you hug him back with the same tightness before letting him go and walking inside their humble abode. He excitedly leads you to the living room, “wait here. Let me just get my brother.”

“Uhh… what?”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you, we’re going out with him. You know, like what we used to all do when we were–” his eyes widened as if he remembered something before lightly coughing and continuing to speak, “I mean… like what we both used to do, you know? But this time, with him. It’s been a long time since he came home too… and this could be a chance for you two to get closer to one another.”

He finishes rambling, internally praying you don’t catch the nervousness in his voice due to his slip-up a moment ago. He curses when he sees you slowly nod. With so many years of knowing you, Osamu already knew from your expressions that you caught even that minor mistake, how you’re currently scrutinizing each and every word they all speak ever since you came back and how you’re starting to get suspicious about everyone around you.

He doesn’t know if he should thank or curse Kiyoomi for giving him a heads up about your plans to find your soulmate. It makes him so conscious, so nervous he might accidentally tell you that the very person you’re trying to find is his dearest twin brother.

At the present, however, he only gulps and prays instead that you just pretend you didn’t notice anything. You do exactly that when you shrug and tell him, “alright then. That’s no problem for me.”

“G-good,” he says a little too loudly, mentally slapping himself to get it together, “I’ll… get Atsumu now hehe.”

You narrow your eyes at his weirdness, shaking your head before bringing your phone out to check your socials. You hum with interest as you open a message from Hajime.

I like to believe that I’m trying– that I enjoy the idea of being his soulmate, that I look on with favor to partaking in this play pretend, this fantastical theatrics of trying to work things out the way they are– me as his fated one, him as mine.

[9:09AM] Hajime-kun: Good morning, soulmate :) I’m a bit bummed we couldn’t go out. Anyway, enjoy your day with Osamu. Hopefully, it’ll finally be my day tomorrow?

[9:10AM] You: Good morning, Hajime-kun. Sorry again about that hehe but sure, I think I’m finally free tomorrow haha 

[9:12AM] Hajime-kun: Great! Also, I told you to drop the honorifics. You feel so distant when you use it *sadly sighs*

[9:13AM] You: Silly. I just respect you that much, okay? 

You hear multiple footsteps coming down so you quickly type out another message for him.

[9:14AM] You: Anyway, I have to go now. See you tomorrow.

You type out the word soulmate at the end of your text, only to delete it as soon as you pull on your heart. 

But I’m no actress. It’s all treachery. Whenever I try to give him  a chance, I feel like a traitor. It’s almost as if I was betraying someone, like I’m unknowingly breaking somebody else’s heart, my soulmate’s heart, somebody who my heart believes was not him. So I step back and hesitate, maybe I should just stop this. To prevent any more complications, to not feel guilty towards anyone, not to you and not to him. 

Before you can drown deeper in your thoughts, the twins come into view. You give Atsumu a shy smile as a greeting, feeling your heart skip when he returns the gesture. Osamu looks back and forth at the two of you and thinks, I guess the soulmate system really is a scam, huh? Even fate can’t handle these two. So obvious.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “What are you two? High schoolers? You could do better than those shy smiles.”

You both awkwardly chuckle, both cursing the gray-haired lad in your minds. 

“Fine, fine. It’s nice to see you again, Atsumu-san,” you genuinely smile and Atsumu’s heart skips. So pretty, he thought.

“It’s also nice to see ya again.”

Welcome home, YN, the blonde thinks with relief and solace filling his soul.

“Waah, it’s been so long since I came here,” you exclaim as your eyes take in the view of the very familiar and busy street market of your hometown. Atsumu looks at you fondly, hands itching to just grab yours and pull you to his arms while you stroll around the area but his thoughts don’t let him get too far as his twin calls him. “You’re too obvious, boy. You look like a lovesick puppy,” Osamu snorts, hands in his pockets as they watch you excitedly talk to the stall owners, “she wanted you to look at her that way for so long, yanno? Too long.”

“Yeah… I still regret that,” Atsumu sadly smiles, “Nothing much I can do about it now. Our fate’s passed.”

“Or so you think,” his twin shrugs when the blonde looks at him with confusion, “YN… even without her memories of you, is still YN. It’s funny, actually. Even fate couldn’t control her. Even after all that has happened, she still wants to find you. So don’t be a coward, Tsum. You don’t need to ask the world nor the gods for a second chance. YN… she’s giving it to you herself already, even without you asking.”

Atsumu looks at you once more, heart painfully throbbing at your smile as you call the both of them over to where you are. 

“She doesn’t realize it, neither do ya but… she still looks at ya the same way as she did before,” Osamu finishes as he pats Atsumu’s back before walking to you.

“Hey! You two walk so slow,” you comment, pointing to the stall in front of you, “they have ice cream there. Want some?”

“I’ll get it,” Atsumu says as he brings out his wallet.

“I’ll have mint chocolate,” Osamu says. You open your mouth to say your order but the blonde beats you to it.

“Vanilla with chocolate drip and those colorful sprinkles on top. Your favorite, right?” Atsumu says without looking up while he tries getting some coins out. You and his twin become silent, shocked at his familiarity. Osamu internally screams at his twin, this idiot! 

On the other hand, you freeze. How did he know such a very specific detail about you?

Realizing what he just said, Atsumu stops as well, the gears in his head turning to think of an excuse, “Uhm… that was weird for me to know, huh? It’s just that Osamu complained so much about it when I was abroad. Guess it just registered in my brain hehe.”

Nice save, he thought.

“Oh…really? Haha, that’s… interesting to hear haha,” you awkwardly laugh.

“Yeah… anyway, I’m gonna–” he gestures to the stall before practically running to it.

As soon as you thought he was already far enough from the two of you, you grip Osamu’s arm and pull him closer to you and threateningly ask, “This is a question that requires an answer if you want to live through the day– who was Atsumu’s soulmate? Why is his thread also cut off?”

He yelps and stutters, “W-what? What soulmate… I have no idea!”

You tighten your grip on him, “Oh, please, Miya Osamu. I know you have an idea.”

He gulps, “I-I swear I don’t. We never knew because Atsumu couldn’t see the thread.” 

You weren’t fully satisfied with his answer yet you had no choice but to let go of him as you see Atsumu coming back. You look at Osamu with a stare that tells him you were definitely not done with the said topic yet. God, she can be scary sometimes, the lad thinks and shivers in fear.

The blonde hands you your ice cream and smiles before looking around, eyes stopping at another stall.

“Oh, look! They sell waffles there, I think? I remember it’s also your favo–” he stops talking before correcting himself, “I remember Osamu saying it’s also your favorite, am I right?”

“Oh… uhh… yeah, you’re right,” you watch them argue with their eyes, frowning. 

“I’ll buy it this time!” Osamu squeaks out, rushing off and leaving you two.

“He’s so weird,” you comment as you stand beside Atsumu, giggling when he agrees.

“I know right. The gods know how much I’ve put up with that ass,” he shakes his head before sighing, “But he’s put up with me so much as well and probably more… humbled me for so many times already. I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, yanno? But for some reason, he’s the one always anchoring me, bringing me back and reminding me I could try again,” he pauses and says thoughtfully, “that it’s never selfish to take a second chance at things… or the people I love.”

You look at him and find him already looking at you, melancholy swimming deep in his eyes. You feel another painful twist in your heart and find your eyes welling up. A tear falls down which makes you gasp, hand reaching up but Atsumu beats you to it, his palm was already on your cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping the lone tear. Realizing what he has done, he starts pulling back his hand, “sorry. I should’ve asked for your conse–”

He halts when you wrap your hand around his wrist, placing it back.

“You know, Atsumu-san. Looking at you hurts like hell,” you start, closing your eyes as you feel more tears coming down, “whenever I look at you, my heart does this painful thing where it almost feels like I’m about to have a heart attack. It’s excruciating but… it makes me feel so alive, so full at the same time. It makes me think– what if… what if you were my soulmate and I just forgot?”

You open your eyes and sadly chuckle, “I think I’m weird like Osamu too.”

You bring down both of your hands and intertwine it, “Sorry for this.”

Your heart skips yet again when he grips your hand tighter after squeezing it, all while mumbling, ‘it’s okay… I think.”

However, there's also a chord of restlessness that sits within me, eager to fill the gaps in my mind even if the universe and our fate is against doing so. Maybe, this is a taboo. Something that must remain unexplored, untouched. The complexity of it all must be left unknown, for ignorance is a bliss, they say right? Unfortunately for them, for me, and for you… the gravity that pulls me towards him is too great, too satisfying to not acknowledge. So, how can I, a mere personification of hope, not consider that blonde hair and amber eyes to be the house of the soul I’m searching for?

Treachery? Betrayal? A traitor to my soulmate? None of those matters. 

Not when you make me feel different, Atsumu.

[xuanzangg]

you havent been the same since Geto Suguru left.

you fell into a deep spiral of mixed emotions along with depression. you had locked yourself in for months, ocassionally going outside to take a bath or ask Satoru if they have news about Suguru.

you became the exact opposite of you. you lost your spark, your smile, your brightness, your tenderness, the caring and gentle nature of yours.

it all took one person to burn you out, to bring you down, to make you go through emotions after emotions.

skinny arms, skinny legs, skinny stomach, skinny face and the bags under your eyes tells everything. you havent been doing well.

Shoko and Satoru are worried, Yaga-sensei is worried. Mei-san and Utahime-san are also worried. they cant help you and you wont let them help you.

"i need to take a bath.." you thought to yourself. and you did. you went out of your room, went to the bathroom and took a bath.

you also decided to clean your room, it was full of junks and trash. it smells filthy. as you worked your way through the cleaning, you found a photo of you and Suguru. it was you, holding a cake with the "16" number on it. "oh.. this was when i turned 16.. back in 1st year.." you thought. and he was there beside you, looking at you with those eyes.. those eyes that always, always looked out for you, so tender and gentle look, back when he was still here.

you couldnt help it as tears began to drop from your eyes, remembering the past. you're turning 17 soon and Suguru's not here, he's not here to celebrate it with you. you held the photo to your chest, holding onto it's memories dearly.

it's the year 2016 and you're now doing well than before. now teaching in Jujutsu Tech. you remember how much Suguru wanted to be a teacher.. so you made his dream come true.

but everything changed when Gojo Satoru took in a young boy. a first year named Okkotsu Yuta.

Suguru knew about Yuta and his curse. you know he wanted to take Yuta's curse as his. that's why.. Geto Suguru showed up in Jujutsu Tech one day, declaring a war.

"..how dumb of you, Geto." Geto.. hah, you're not used to it..

"oh my, if it isnt my dearest.. please, do call me using my first name." he coo, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders. you let him be. you didnt mind it.

"it's ridiculous, Suguru." "is it now? i dont think so."

you didnt reply. you looked into his eyes. those eyes.. he still looks at you the same way he used to, years ago. a frown formed on your forehead, "you're dumb. do whatever you want, Satoru will surely deal with you." you removed his arms around your shoulder, you didnt want to be held by him for too long because you know.. right here, right now, if he held you a little more longer, you would go with him. you'd go with him and betray everyone just to be with him again. but you didnt. you tried to control yourself.

but well, time sure flies fast. it's the night of the war, december 24th. shinjuku, tokyo. but it wasnt long when every curse were defeated. Satoru made his way back to the school's grounds, sensing something wrong.

there he was, Geto Satoru figthing Okkkotsu Yuta. clearly, he's going to lose against Yuta. you know he's going to die.

and he did. he lost but didnt die. well, not for long. you saw Satoru and Suguru talking, Suguru has lost his other arm and bleeding. you hurried to him immediately, trying to heal him with your reversed healing technique but, "dont." he stopped you. you wanted to punch him.. ask him why but you couldnt, so you stopped immediately.

"im sorry for leaving you all alone.. i didnt wanna burden you from my thoughts and.. you know, bullshits.." you cant help but cry at his statement. him? a burden? he was never a burden! "you'll never be a burden to me.m you dummy.." you couldnt help but cry, you kneel beside him and hold onto his other arm, begging him to let you heal him but he wont say only kept refusing it.

"satoru.. please let me heal him.." "no, you cant do that, i cant let you do that.." "please..! satoru please..!" you were desperate to heal him but the two of them kept telling you no.

"im sorry.." Suguru whispered to you, his forehead touching yours as his other hand caress your cheek gently.

"i love you, im sorry.."

"atleast curse me a little at the very end.." were Suguru's last words before Satoru finally ends him, along with something thar Satoru whispered as Suguru died.

you held Suguru's body close to yours, it's cold, the warmth he used to have is no longer there, Suguru is no longer there.

yahallo~ it's been so long since i posted a fic here. i've missed the feeling of it. anyways, i've gotten into the jjk fandom and i grew attached to suguru. but well, all i can say is that i love him and he deserves a second chance and fuck you kenjaku.

[shion-yu]

Taco Fiesta 2.0

Quick story for fun ft. @wussifer's OC Jack and my boy Cliff who are actual soulmates in another life <3 Based on this. 1,287 words, CW: food poisoning, emeto, mucho fluff.

Jack's love for questionably safe street food had gotten him in trouble more than once over the years. Cliff kept telling him to stay away from those stands but Jack's memory seemed only to last a few months before he took the plunge again. This time is was "Phil's Philly Steaks" and Jack thought the name was way too funny to pass up trying. 

Cliff groaned and tried to tug him along. "Jack, please, Leo's got dinner at home waiting for us," he tried, but it was hopeless. The call of street meat with a terrible pun was all too powerful. 

"It's fine," Jack said casually as he handed over a wad of ones. "I have a different stomach for this kind of thing."

"You do not," Cliff rolled his eyes. "Just don't come to me when it's 'Got Taco to the Fiesta' 2.0, alright?" 

"Sure, baby," Jack said cheerfully, accepting the giant paper plate overflowing with steaming Philly steak that he was handed. "Thanks man," he told the vendor and Cliff followed behind him to a nearby bench.

Cliff looked at Jack's purchase with distaste. "That looks like brains," he said. 

Jack took a big bite and hummed with satisfaction. "Delicious brains though. Wanna try?" 

"Absolutely not," Cliff said, pushing the forkful Jack was holding up away and sticking out his tongue. He waited as Jack miraculously devoured the entire meal and threw away the plate with a satisfied burp. "You're so gross," Cliff whined as Jack laughed and appologized. 

They took the train back home and made it to Leo's apartment without further incident. Jack's belly was sticking out a bit but true to his word, he managed to shove down a whole plate of dinner made by Leo, too. Cliff had no idea how his boyfriend had such a bottomless appetite but he figured at least Jack was eating enough for the both of them, given Cliff no longer ate my mouth. After dinner they went to Jack's room where Jack sat at his desk to study and Cliff watched videos on bed. 

Jack was still studying when Cliff got sleepy and turned in for the night. "Night Jackie," he said. Jack blew him a kiss and looked fondly at his little family on bed, made up of Cliff, one cat in his arms and one dog at his feet. He had about fifty of the same exact picture but he couldn't help but snap another one with his phone, they were just so cute. 

Around eleven, Jack's stomach started rumbling loudly. He rubbed it and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He had definitely eaten too much today, but it'd go down soon enough. Except an hour later, it certainly hadn't gone down and Jack felt even more bloated than before. He groaned and stood up, thinking maybe walking around would help. Did they have Tums in the bathroom? Jack located then and chewed two of the tablets. The chalky taste did the opposite of make him feel better and he realized very quickly that he was feeling nauseous. 

It was just too much food, he told himself. No way this was the tacos from three months ago 2.0. He hit his chest with his fist a few times and let out a loud belch that made his eyes water. He glanced at Cliff but his boyfriend was still sleeping soundly. The dog, however, was staring at him in startled disdain.

"Sorry Sabi," Jack said, rubbing his aching stomach. Sabi sniffed as if he understood and rested his head back down on Cliff's legs. 

Jack tried to go back to studying, but his stomach was really burning now and it felt like the words he was attempting to read were running all over the page. He had begun to sweat and groaned, pushing his chair away from the desk and pressing his forehead on the edge. He tried to breathe through the nausea but one thought about the neon yellow cheese sauce on that cheese steak today put him over the edge and he made a mad dash for the bathroom.

It was an absurd amount of food to have eaten, and it felt absurd coming back up. Jack threw up wave after wave of chunky, smelly vomit and swore to himself for probably the twentieth time that he'd listen to Cliff about the street food next time. After a few minutes it seemed like he was empty, and the dizziness was gone. Jack flushed the toilet and stood on shaky legs to wash his face and hands in the sink. He listened, but Leo's bedroom was too far away to hear and Cliff seemed to have manage to sleep through it despite the occasional very loud moan that had come out of him. 

Jack returned to the desk in his room, hoping that was it. Going back to studying turned out to be a no go though and Jack gave up quickly, crawling into bed next to Cliff and resting his head on Cliff's chest. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The attempt lasted about fifteen minutes before Jack was launching himself back into the bathroom for round two. That solidified it - it wasn't just overeating and Phil's Philly Steak was most certainly the culprit. Jack threw up until there really wasn't anything left but stomach acid. It took him another ten minutes to gather the strength to stand up and wash up again, spraying some air freshener on his way out to mask the putrid smelling combo of fry oil mixed with puke. 

Jack stumbled back to bed and lay down, clutching his stomach with a loud groan. Cliff didn't look so cute asleep anymore. He looked annoyingly peaceful while Jack was going through cheese steak purgatory. Jack shook his shoulder, whining. "Cli-ifffff." 

Cliff twitched and opened his eyes, squinting at Jack cluelessly. "What?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"I threw up," Jack said pathetically. 

"Oh, sorry baby," Cliff mumbled, reaching for Jack and pulling him close. "Do you... need... Zzzz." Aaaaand he was asleep again. Jack sighed and cuddled against Cliff anyways. Cliff tended to be fairly useless between the hours of ten PM and eight AM unless Jack really set off the alarms, but he wasn't going to do that for another round of food poisoning by stupidity. 

"Thanks Cliff, you're so comforting," Jack muttered. Cliff's arms did feel nice though, and before Jack knew it his eyes had begun to sag closed. "Love you," he said.

The next morning there'd be plenty of time for scolding and then coddling and rubbing Jack's back as he threw up again. But at least until morning, the two of them managed to sleep - one much deaper than the other. 

"You should've woke me up," Cliff said the next morning while serving Jack plain toast in bed, hoping it would ease Jack's stomach cramps.

"I did," Jack said.

"Really?" Cliff asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face. "Sorry. I don't remember."

"It's okay," Jack said. "I'll forgive you if you make me a good Philly cheese steak at home."

Cliff made a face of disbelief. "Jack, you cannot seriously want to eat right now," he said.

"Not now! Later. To erase the taste of the poisonous version from my memory," Jack said.

Cliff shook his head. "Maybe you should try and remember the poisonous one next time you want street food," Cliff said. But then Jack gave him such kicked puppy dog eyes that he added, "Okay, I'll do it, just listen to me next time, please?" 

Jack grinned, gave Cliff innocent doe eyes and said with an incredible amount of confidence, "I always listen to you!"

[thedo0zyslider]

If I Think Of Home, Then I Won't Be Alone - 5k Words

In the midst of Double Life, Martyn and Ren find themselves lonely without each other

(My second fic for the @treebarktitleswap event!)

A03 Link

Martyn is currently really, really fucking miserable . Like, so stupidly miserable he thinks he should win an award for it. But that’s not really new, not for this death game at least. He's been miserable basically the whole duration of it so far, and he doesn't think that will be changing anytime soon. Maybe that's how he's doomed to be, miserable for the rest of his stupid little life here. That seems pretty par for the course anyways, all things considered.

Maybe, he thinks, as he stares at the ceiling of his Bleeding Heart Bastion, he's just being overdramatic. Maybe moping around in bed, because he didn’t really wanna get out of it that morning, and thinking about how miserable he is is a little overdramatic. Maybe that’s why he’s so miserable, because he sits there and wallows in his own misery. Or maybe this is justified, he wouldn’t know.

Maybe him being this upset isn't really justified, actually, now that Martyn does some more thinking. He'd probably brought this all on himself, made himself feel more like shit by just laying in bed for half the day and reflecting. And now he was being overdramatic to compensate, because what else was he supposed to do? Actually get up and solve his problems? Hah, fat chance. Martyn was a master of doing just the opposite of that, actually, and making everything ten times worse for himself in the process.

He thinks he's done this exact thing a lot over the past few weeks, laying in bed and thinking. Thinking about how lonely he is and how his soulmate didn't want him over something so bloody stupid. (It was one nether trip Cleo, one! ) Thinking about how everyone else, sans Pearl, had someone to go home to and how they would walk around all happy and in love. How every time he saw a happy couple it felt like the world was rubbing it in his face, the fact that Martyn couldn't be happy with someone. Not anymore, not here.

He was happy with someone, once upon a time, many months ago. The same someone he often found himself thinking about. He was happy back in the first game, back with Ren in their kingdom made of cobblestone walls. Martyn had been so happy with that man, he hadn't known what to do with all the emotion. So he'd press loving kisses into Ren’s hair, to his face and to his lips. He'd spend hours with him just doing nothing, or gathering materials or mining. He was so happy with his king that he'd die for him, he'd burn the world if he had too. Martyn would chase people through the desert, running unsteadily on the sand and dodging deadly arrows, all because Ren had said to.

If Ren told him to run, he'd have run until he was told to stop. If Ren told him to kill all their enemies single handedly, Martyn would've done it gladly. And when Ren had ordered his hand to cut off his head, he had, and the tears and breakdowns that followed had been a thousand percent worth it.

And reminiscing about all of that caused Martyn to feel a lot of things. One, was longing. Longing for Ren, for their stupid little enchanting room and the carrot field and the ugly as hell cobblestone walls. A longing to go back to a time that doesn't exist anymore, to a home that isn't real anymore. A home that's probably destroyed and can't be remade.

It also makes him feel a little less lonely, in some weird way. He supposes it's because he's burying himself fully in the memories, and imagining Ren beside him once more. Imagining the two of them cuddled up in bed together on a lazy morning, Ren’s gentle snores filling the room and Martyn playing with his sleeping boyfriends hair, entirely at peace.

The blonde groans, and turns over until he can bury his head into his pillow. He needs to stop thinking about things he can’t have, he needs to stop longing. It’s not helping his situation get better, though he’s not sure anything will. Nothing will actually happen, if Ren keeps dating BigB even though the damn server knows he’s cheating. And nothing will get better for Martyn either, not if he just buries his head in his pillow and cries like some whiny child. So he decides he should stop doing that, and maybe do something productive before the day’s over.

He looks up and outside the Bastion’s singular window (because the other side faces Cleo’s house and he doesn’t want to look at that,) and by some chance, spots Ren and BigB holding hands. The two of them are walking together, closer to the edge of the ravine then they should. And Ren is laughing. He's laughing and giggling and smiling at BigB like some idiot even after he'd been cheated on and lord Martyn just wishes he would look at him that way-

The blonde tears his gaze away from the window as quickly as he thinks the last bit, whipping his head around to stare at the red wall opposite it. Great, now he's even more miserable than he was before. Absolutely lovely. Just a joyous day for old Martyn Littlewood everybody, no need to worry. He was doing just peachy in fact!

It was a good thing he didn't have to see anyone today, and could just spend the rest of it locked in his Bastion. He can feel his emotions swirling inside him like a storm, unstable and unpredictable. Martyn’s very glad he doesn't have to see Scott today, or Cleo, or even wonderful, wonderful Ren (who he would normally be trying to talk to right now, considering how close to his house the dog is,) because just one snarky remark would probably lead him to lashing out-

And oh fuck, nevermind that train of thought, he'd just remembered something. They have a Broken Hearts club meeting that day. Goddammit. Of course they do. Fuck. And it’s almost afternoon, which means the meeting is less than an hour. He has to go and actually see Ren, and try not to let all his emotions peak through. Which is gonna be really hard if Pearl doesn’t show up, and he doesn’t have another presence there to keep him in check. (It's not Pearl that keeps him in check, for the record, it's the reminder that there's another person there, and the want to not publicly embarrass himself. Also because if he did, Pearl would go tattle to Cleo and Scott and he'd never hear the end of it for the rest of his dumb little life. Even when they went to a new game.)

So Martyn sighs, and after a few more minutes of laying there, finally gets up for the first time that day. He stretches, quickly finding his body restless from the hours of inactivity, and heads towards the Bastion's front door. He makes sure his sword, bow, and other tools are on him, before he descends down his water stream and into the ravine. They're at the point in the game, where it's not safe to just run around making friends anymore, and Martyn isn’t counting on being caught off guard if anyone tries anything. Plus, there is still a warden hanging around the river somewhere (Thank you very much, Timmy and Tango,) and he doesn't want to possibly face that thing with no defense.

As soon as he leaves his house and climbs his way out of the ravine, a familiar voice is calling his name. There’s also the sound of barking, a sound that seems to be getting nearer, and Martyn has a pretty good idea of who that could be. Miss Scarlet Witch herself is coming around the bend, as if his earlier thoughts of the woman had summoned her. Like a true demon lady would be.

“Martyn!” Pearl’s voice calls out to him, Tilly trailing loyally behind her owner as she always is. Her owner, who sounds a lot less crazy than she did a few days ago. Which is good, because Martyn feels like the woman is going to stab him half the time they interact, despite still not being a red name. “There you are!”

“Hi Pearl.” He says, turning his head to where her voice was. She'd just come from Scott’s house, it seemed, and he could only guess what horrors and torment had gone down between those two just minutes before. He takes a moment to mentally send his condolences, and starts asking questions before Pearl can even ask him how his day had been going, or even get another hello in.

“Please tell me you’re going to the Broken Hearts meeting today.” He says, and makes a point to sound just a little desperate. Not as desperate as he really feels, but enough to maybe tug on whatever remains of Pearl's heartstrings.

“To watch you be jealous about Ren? Count me out.” Pearl snorts lightly, crushing all his hopes for the meeting right then and there. He is pointedly ignoring the loud bark of agreement from Tilly. “I have more important things to do.” “You’re really not helping your image by dodging these things, you know that.” Martyn retorts, tone just as light as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe I like my crazy person image.” Pearl smiles, the particularly insane one she's gotten pretty good at doing recently, and the blonde resists the urge to roll his eyes. Tilly barks again, and Martyn decides to keep ignoring the dog, like he always tries to do. Because messing with her in any way was a free ticket to being hunted and bowed down for sport, and he liked keeping his head. (Also, he was a cat person. Sorry not sorry to all the good dogs out there.)

“Of course you would.” He snorts, fighting back a bit of amusement. The blonde is glad he can joke with her again, her mood often being far too sour to do that ever since the first few days. Though maybe she's happy because she just tormented Scott, or stole an item from him or something. Martyn doesn't know what she was doing in his house, and also doesn't want to find out either.

“At least my image is just bloodthirsty and not hopelessly crazy over someone.” Pearl shoots back, intending for it to be a friendly tease. And also thinking Martyn knows how people think of him. Unfortunately for her, that topic is at a bit of a sore spot, especially today, and Martyn never really knows or cares what people's opinions of him in the goddamn death games are.

“That is not my image on this server!” The blonde protests immediately, a frown stretching across his face. He doesn't really know if Pearl’s telling the truth, or just trying to get a rise out of him, but he doesn’t like it regardless. That's not what people think of him, it can't be! He's not that obvious, is he?

“Eh, I don’t know. Jimmy and Tango said it was, and so did Bdubs, and Joel.” Pearl sing-songs, a smile on her face. Tilly barks again, in what sounds to be the dog version of laughter, and is promptly ignored again by an increasingly grumpy Martyn.

Martyn scowls at all the names listed, and huffs in annoyance. “Like they have any room to talk.” All four of those people had been obsessed with their soulmates since they got them, so much so that Martyn was surprised Jimmy hadn't been married within the first day again. Though Bdubs had, claiming him and Impulse to be loving husbands as soon as they'd discovered their bond together. Joel was actually the worst of the people listed, somewhat surprisingly, with that dumb shirt he wore. The one with Etho’s face plastered on it….

“I don't know, you sounded really jealous right there.” Pearl keeps teasing him, leaning on her axe’s handle. Because of course she'd hand it out the whole time, since she never seemed to put it away. And of course the thing was now tall enough for her to comfortably lean on. That wasn't terrifying and intimidating at all.

“And you’re not jealous of anyone's relationship? Huh?” Martyn fires back, kinds regretting the words as he says them. He really doesn't want to make things worse with Pearl than they already are, he really doesn't, especially when they're finally having a normal conversation. But he's not in the mood to go back on his word, not today, not about this topic. He can say sorry later, when the game is over and everyone magically stops hating each other. Like he's been saying he can for every other person he upsets this time, considering how well it had worked before…

Pearl’s face drops into a frown immediately, and Tilly growls at him, matching her owner's mood perfectly; like their emotions are in sync or something. It is the one time the dog isn't ignored. “Low-blow man. Low blow.”

“Then don't comment on my love life like you know me.” He snaps back, already done with this conversion. It was a very short one, and one of the nicer ones the two of them had had this whole game, but still, he was over it. One of the many, many things he was simply over today, it seems.

“I thought I did know you, but whatever.” Pearl says, no longer leaning on her axe. She takes it in her hands again, and for a split second Martyn thinks he’s about to get hit with it. “Go to your stupid meeting with your stupid ex-boyfriend and work it out there.” Thankfully, he is not attacked. Pearl just takes her axe and turns away, her voice now a lot sour then it previously was. Tilly growls, but thankfully follows her owner in the opposite direction; back towards poor Scott’s house.

“Fine, I will!” Martyn says, starting to head the opposite way. He doesn’t care what Pearl, or Jimmy or Joel or what anyone on this dumb server says about his love life. He doesn’t care if he’s hopeless or obvious or trying too hard or whatever Pearl had been implying. All he cares about right now is going to the stupid Club meeting like he said he would, because he would feel bad about leaving Ren by himself, and getting it over with. All he cares about is seeing Ren again, and getting to pretend he doesn’t miss him terribly for a few hours, and their back in the good ole days of winter; sitting around a campfire for warmth and talking. That’s all he bloody cares about.

When Martyn arrives at their small meeting space —a small clearing with three logs and an unlit campfire—he is not the first one there. He was kinda hoping he would be, so he had more time to get his emotions in check, but Ren was always there first. This is probably where BigB had been walking him too, actually, before disappearing off to who knows where. Probably going to further cheat on his boyfriend further, but whatever.

Ren smiles at him, catching sight of the blonde in an instant, and a lot of things flutter in Martyn’s gut at once. The first one is warmth, the warmth he always feels when Ren smiles at him; or looks at him far too kindly. The second thing he feels is a sharp pang of jealousy. He hates that he can’t look at Ren without feeling nothing but warmth anymore, he really really does. But he can’t help it, can’t help but remember how he’s tied to BigB, and that Martyn can no longer hold his hand the way he used to before.

“Martyn! How are you!?” Ren’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts, the dog patting the oak log next to him. An invitation to sit together, right next to each other. Martyn blinks, shoving down the jealousy best he can, and returns the glowing smile he’s being given.

“I’m doing good!” He says, sitting down where Ren had indicated, and promptly ignoring their proximity. The lie slips out far too easily, and doesn’t even leave a bitter taste in his mouth that lying to Ren used too. He wonders when doing so stopped bothering him, and slightly wishes it still did.

“Good, good!” The brunette smiles, still cheery as he normally is. If he can tell that's a lie, (like he probably can, like he can tell everything about Martyn with just a glance, a testament to how close they used to be,) Ren doesn't show it, and carries on with Club business as normal. “Do you know if Pearl’s coming?”

“Nah, said she had more important things to do.” He says, leaving out the fact that they’d argued not even twenty minutes ago. Ren doesn’t need to know that, like he doesn’t know how just sitting next to him is making Martyn feel all flustered and clumsy. Ren doesn’t need to know a lot of things….

“Aw man.” The dog says, a frown momentarily crossing his face before it vanishes as quickly as it had appeared. “Guess we’re having a boys night!” He says, acting like it’s actually night time and that the summer’s sun isn’t currently beating down on both of them. Like it isn’t hot enough to warrant a quick dip in the river.

Despite everything, Martyn felt a giggle slip past his lips. “Yeah, a boys night.” He agreed, and felt a friendly arm slip around his shoulders. Ren laughs in return, a sound as familiar to Martyn as his own voice, and a flush starts to spread across his cheeks. He figures it will be very easy to pretend to feel less lonely, with that laugh filling the air and his ex boyfriend’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

He just wishes they were really back in Dogwarts, and that he could turn around and kiss his love and feel no guilt about doing so.

By the next Broken Hearts Club meeting a week later, a lot has changed. Including how many lives a lot of people have, including Ren’s own, (which was a given really, people were bound to die at least once a week. Especially with the new soulmate gimmick.) and also Ren’s opinion of his boyfriend. That especially had soured a lot in the past few days, which was a little impressive, he had to admit. He went from loving him nearly wholly one day, and then to feeling soul crushing despair not even twenty four hours later.

That soul crushing despair had come with the news that he was being cheated on. That BigB was seeing another man. Something the dog had kinda begun to suspect. Okay, well, suspect was the wrong word there. He'd known there were rumors about his boyfriend cheating on him, it was the whole reason he'd made the Club in the first place. He'd just finally found out who he was being cheated on with, killing his denial about the whole ordeal entirely. it's a person he probably should've guessed sooner, with all the extra bread lying around the base. Bread he didn't remember him or his partner making. Bread that only one of their friends was associated with. Plus, there was also his partner's weird behavior every day. How he would sometimes sneak away for long periods of time without a word, and dodge the question whenever Ren asked about it. How he always seemed to be looking out for a certain person, more than a friend would, whenever they went by a certain base. How his eyes would light up upon seeing them…..

Ren shouldn't have been surprised as he was to find out, really, especially with all the signs. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, or whatever people said, and all he could do now was think. All he could do was lay awake at night, the bed empty beside him for the third time in a week (another sign he also should've taken note of, but brushed off as nothing, not wanting to assume the worst of his boyfriend,) and ponder over every detail of their relationship. Of all the time they spent together and if it meant anything to BigB. If it meant anything at all, or if he was just keeping up appearances. So neither of them ended up like Martyn or Pearl: desperately alone and insane because your soulmate rejected you and with no place in the world anymore.

Though all the wonder he does ends up upsetting him, but that can't really be helped. He feels his heart twist in pain every time BigB does something as simple as smile at him, so the good memories they had together were bound to bring him pain. And longing. Like, a ridiculous amount of longing for a soulmate. For something he had. Or, something he thought he had, but had never really owned at all.

And whenever the longing gets too bad, Ren decides to let his mind wander back to happier times. He shuffles through memories from months and months ago, the ones that always make him feel better on his low days, and remembers his old kingdom. He remembers all the wonderful friends he had there, despite the war and the carnage and the death. He remembers how he and BigB had been allied back then, and how he knew that wasn’t fake. How that had been a real and true friendship, even if their current relationship is a lie. It makes him feel slightly better about the present to know that, at least at one point, BigB had truly valued him. Enough to die for him and his silly war. (Part of Ren wonders where all that friendship and that value went, and supposes he might never know unless he asks the man himself.)

But most importantly, he remembers Martyn, and the relationship they'd used to have.

Back then, in the winter, Martyn had been his everything. His sunshine, his loyal hand, his wonderful boyfriend, the thing to melt a king’s frozen heart. The blonde had been his reason to fight, his reason to live and keep going even when things seemed truly bleak. Martyn had been his everything, his world, and his hand had agreed. They were each other's worlds, if only for the briefest of times, and nothing else mattered but them and making it to the end. (He can only mourn that he and BigB couldn't be each other's worlds. Though maybe the Gods had made a mistake with their pairing, and their worlds were off elsewhere, with other people. That seemed like a better explanation to Ren, especially since the other was that BigB just didn't care. Which, considering what he knew and remembered about the man, felt wrong to assume.)

He would lay awake at night and remember when Martyn would lay next to him, both men snuggled comfortably against each other. Perfectly at peace in their bed, in their room and in their kingdom they'd made from scratch and an enchanting business. He would remember the soft kisses they would press to each other's skin, how Martyn would lovingly scratch behind his ears and help braid his hair every morning when he asked. How before every battle they would hold hands and whisper sweet nothings and I love yous , in case the war finally claimed one of them.

(He also remembered the more gritty parts of their relationship. How it took Martyn a week after the beheading to be able to look at an axe again, let alone even hold one. How he'd cried and broken down in Ren’s arms that night, his king blood staining his skin and clothes, and how Ren could do nothing but wait out the tears and help him wash the red off. But he tried not to think about all that stuff very often, lest he start getting nightmares again….)

Eventually, the night before the Club meeting, Ren would find himself wondering if he ever loved BigB at all, and if he was just going along with it. If he too was just trying to mask the want of somebody else. He didn't like how the answer seemed to veer towards yes with every passing day.

The next day, just a little past noon, he finds himself back in their little log circle. Ren is there first there, again, and Martyn shows up a few minutes later. Their normal arrival times, ones they haven’t broken since Club’s foundation a few weeks ago. Pearl isn’t here either, again, and Ren assumes that this is the new normal. That Pearl will not be coming back, and that these are now just the Ren and Martyn weekly meetups. The brunette is not very opposed to losing their most insane members, he finds.

Martyn is in a somber mood today, as he always is on Club days. Ren does not feel much like talking today either, only having shown up here because it was a part of his weekly routine now. (And it got him away from BigB and their too quiet base, and he got to see Martyn again…) Neither of them say a greeting, or anything, for several long minutes. Martyn just sits down on the log, in his normal seat next to Ren, and it feels like an eternity passes.

“I know who BigB’s cheating with..” He says into the silence, nothing around them to fill it but the sound of crickets chirping and other summer time bugs moving about the grass. He says mainly to get some things off his chest, and because he longs to hear his friend's voice once again.

“Oh.” Martyn sounds surprised, taken off guard, but he doesn’t say anything else. Not for a very long few, and slightly awkward minutes. As if turning the words over in his head, and choosing them carefully before he opens his mouth. And when he does speak next, his voice sounds a little strained. Like he’s holding back something, or maybe a lot of things. Ren desperately wants to know every thought swirling through his head right now, for a reason he can’t quite name. “How’d you find that out?”

“I just…..heard it on the grapevine.” He mumbles, gaze momentarily becoming fixed on the unlit campfire in front of them. He doesn’t want to think about how he found, how he was told. He doesn’t like the memory. The thought of it has kept him up on far too many nights than he’d want to admit.

“Who is it?” Martyn asks. The dog is kinda surprised he doesn’t know already. He was under the impression that everyone had either figured it out, or been told, ages ago, and had never bothered to inform him. Maybe to spare him from the pain, just a little bit…. “Grian.” Is all Ren says, wringing his hands together. His gaze doesn’t leave the ground, and he doesn’t know if he can face whatever expression the blonde is now wearing.

“…..Yeah, that feels about right.” Martyn mumbled, likely remembering all the disputes between Ren and Grian in the past. It’s no surprise really, that the latter would be the one Ren’s boyfriend was cheating with. The universe just liked pitting them against each other, for some reason, and made them hate each other when they should be friends.

“I still love him, I think…..but it hurts.” Ren admits, looking up from the grass just a bit. He hasn’t really said that, out loud or in his head until now. He likes to think Martyn’s presence is what gives him the strength to do so. But maybe he’s just being crazy on that one…

“I’m sorry.” Is all Martyn can offer. He’s being oddly silent tonight, and the fact hadn’t escaped Ren’s notice. He has to wonder what the blonde thinks of everything, of this whole situation, of the soulmates thing, of him right now.

“Thinking of you makes me feel better, you know.” He admits that as well, while he’s at it. He wants to get everything off his chest today, since he already started doing so. Plus, he’s been holding himself back around Martyn for weeks now, wanting to stay loyal to his partner. Though he supposes loyalty means nothing to their relationship now, and never really had before….

The blonde whips his head around quicker than Ren thought was humanly possible. “What!?” He exclaims, so surprised by the admission. Ren can’t even blame him. If his ex basically said “my boyfriend cheated on me but thinking about you makes me feel better about everything, actually.” He would also be pretty caught off guard. That’s not a very normal thing to say to someone under like, any situation ever. But being in a death game with an ever-changing gimmick also isn’t normal, so he supposes it's an okay level of weirdness for this situation.

“I dunno, man, it just does.” He shrugs, now looking at the blonde in the eyes again. Eyes he always forgets the beauty of, and how easy it is to get lost in them. “Like I think about when we used to be together and feel less….lonely.”

Martyn is quiet for a few minutes, his hand tightly gripping the edge of the log he’s sat on. But eventually, his face morphs into something lighter, something relieved and almost happy. The happiest he’s been at one of these meetings, especially when a real and genuine grin forms on his lips. Instead of those fake ones he’d gotten far too used to giving, and acting like Ren wouldn’t notice when they weren;t real.

“Doing that….makes me feel less lonely as well.” He admits, and it sounds like a weight has lifted off his chest by doing so. For a split second, Ren wonders just how lonely he's been all the time, especially without a soulmate, and feels a pang of sympathy go straight to his heart. Without him knowing, his tail starts to wag, and a thumping sound occurs as it hits the log. Martyn is immediately snickering at that, like he always does when Ren’s tail does something particularly silly.

The blonde scoots closer to him with a hesitant little giggle, close enough until their knees can brush. Ren resists the urge to pull him into his lap and never let him go. “I can’t believe you’ve been missing me too….” His voice is so full of disbelief, but a happy kind. Like he thought he wasn’t missed by anyone, let alone Ren. The brunette wanted to kill the train of thought entirely, if it was even real at all, because he'd just re-remembered the joy of being around this guy and was cursing himself for ever forgetting it.

“How could I not?” Ren says, an earnest smile stretching across his face. He gives into the want to hold him, and goes to cup both of Martyn’s cheeks. He finds that he missed doing that a lot more than he had realized. “You’re you .”

“And you’re still a big sweetheart.” Martyn snorts, leaning into the touch more than he probably should be. “B doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” There’s a light blush starting to spread across the blonde’s face, all the way to the tips of his ears. Ren’s tail wags again, and feels his face burn with a similar color at their newfound proximity.

“We could make this whole fiasco worse, if you’re up for it.” He suggests after a moment, a pretty bad idea popping into his head. Bad in the sense that they shouldn't do it, even if it would be fun. Even if it would fill the gaping hole of loneliness in both their chests. But, despite the knowledge that he shouldn't, Ren turns to face Martyn, waiting for what he has to say.

Martyn seems intrigued by what he has to say, raising a curious eyebrow at his friend. “And how would we do that?” He asks, legs kicking idly against their log seat and disturbing a few of the nearby bugs hiding in it.

“Try and make BigB a little jealous too.” Ren hums, not so subtly moving their faces closer. Not too close, of course, but…close enough for his friend to get a pretty good idea of what he wants. “If you’re pickin’ up what I’m putin’ down.”

A small grin stretches across Martyn’s face once he realizes, and he leans in as well, doing half the work for Ren. “I think I am.” He mumbles, nose bumping when Ren’s snout just a little but. His tail wags, and thumps against the log under them in joy.

“Good.” The brunette giggles a bit, only feeling a tad bit guilty as he shifts their bodies closer together. He knows he probably shouldn't be doing this, that what he's about to do makes him no better than Grian and BigB. The rest of him, however, is not thinking about that. Instead he's focusing on how bad he's been missing Martyn, and how much he wants this. Ren can say sorry to BigB later, when the whole cheating thing is behind both of them, even though he will go to bed guilty and upset tonight; but not really regretting it. He can apologize when this game is over and they have to quickly heal before being thrown into another one. He will apologize when BigB says sorry first, for being the one to cheat in the first place. Even if Ren doing so right back to him isn't the kindest thing in the world either.

Martyn leans in even further, capturing him in the kiss they've both been wanting for weeks now, and the world around them goes quiet again. The chirping crickets are left to fill it once more, and the night feels a lot less lonely than it had before. Not just for Ren or for Martyn, but for the both of them.

And, despite all the consequences this is going to have come tomorrow, neither of them would have it any other way.

[denim-mixtapes]

Congrats on 1k!!! I'd like to request traditions: maybe baking Christmas cookies with Eddie? I love your Eddie! He's always characterized so well!

tsym friend!!! I feel like there's not a lot of actual baking in this...just two cuties being in love...but it's baking adjacent!! And I didn't wanna get too carried away with the actual details of baking bc I literally spend 40+ hours a week making cookies and if I actually wrote about the baking/decorating process there would be no Eddie it would just be cookies oop. ANYWAY ENJOY <3

w/c: 640

Join the Christmas Party!

“Ah, ah, ah!” 

Eddie thinks he’s smooth, distracting you with a kiss to sneak a cookie away from the cooling rack on the counter behind you, but you saw him coming from a mile away. Leaning away from his embrace, you smack at the offending hand with your wooden spoon, giggling all the while. 

“Just one!” He insists, turning those awful puppy dog eyes on you with a pout. “They smell so good! I think we make a good team!” 

You step back with a snort to take in his appearance. He’s disheveled to say the least. Hair a mess, twisted up into one of your claw clips without a care in the world and dusted with flour from where you had a mild food fight. His loose sweatpants are streaked with chocolate from where he’d wiped his hands carelessly, and his shirt spotted with more flour and even a little food dye, which you have no idea where that came from, because you haven’t even started decorating yet. Despite it all, he’s still a beautiful sight to behold. 

Your eyes soften and you smile, “fine, one.” 

To your delight, he breaks the cookie in half and hands one piece to you with a warm mumble of, “here, we’ll share it.” 

Thanking him with a sweet kiss on the cheek, you have to remind yourself to not get too sappy. When you proposed the idea of a cookie bake leading up to Christmas, you’d half expected Eddie to laugh and offer to be a taste tester instead. It’s what all your other partners had done in the past, but you were met with the exact opposite energy. Sure, now that you’re almost done he wants to taste them all, but who are you kidding, so do you. But no, he’s been happily by your side the whole time, from planning out the recipes, to shopping for ingredients, to actually doing the baking (even if you did have to show him how the stand mixer works like Patrick Swayze in Ghost). Still, you didn’t want to press your luck and scare him away by getting too emotional over cookies. 

“Okay!” You exclaim around a mouthful of sugar. Eddie’s smile broadens as he chews his own bite, eyes sparkling at your enthusiasm. “We have one more batch to make while the sugar cookies cool. It’s not Christmas without hot cocoa cookies, after all.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna kill me, that sound’s fucking fantastic,” he groans, eyes rolling to the ceiling, hand clutching at his heart dramatically. 

While Eddie balls up the hot cocoa cookie dough to bake, you mix all of the frosting and icings for the sugar cookies, and as soon as he puts them in the oven you’re practically bouncing on your toes to start decorating. 

“Someone’s eager,” Eddie teases, pulling up a bar stool next to yours at the counter. 

“This is the best part!” You exclaim, ready to dive into explaining the different frostings and their different purposes, but the way he’s staring at you stops you in your tracks. It’s soft, a little dopey, and he smiles at you like you hung the moon. It’s how you were looking at him earlier. It makes your heart skip a beat. “What?” 

“There is no best part,” he says, disguising the sap in his voice with a little forced laugh, “‘cause it’s all the best, getting to make memories with you.” 

“Aw,” you coo, reaching out to hold his cheek, “that was really cheesy.” 

His skin burns under your thumb where you stroke his cheekbone, and he bursts out into a real, full, laugh. “Yeah, it kind of was. Now,” he dips his finger into the closest bowl of frosting and reaches across the space between you to smear it on the tip of your nose. “Where do we start?”

[notmuchtoconceal]

[14:00]

The first thing to say here is that an earlier generation of scholars actually argued that the development of the evil Demiurge began in Alexandrian Jewish circles. This theory has speculated that Jews at the very periphery of their social, intellectual and philosophical circles -- perhaps those Jews at the very limits, at the adjacent of some of those magickal practices that produced some of the books like Sefer HaRazim -- were ultimately responsible for the development of the evil Demiurge, says this theory.

(It's largely rejected now, but it's the dominant theory you may read in old books.)

Perhaps it was a rebellion against their more emergent orthodox theologians, an outgrowth of Jewish bitheism with the so-called Two Powers in Heaven Hersey (which really frightened the Rabbis, way more than Christianity ever did) the influence of Dualism on their theology, or a response to the historical material reality of Jewish suffering during the Judean-Roman Wars, the violent Alexandrian pogroms, the Kitos War, and finally the genocide that followed in the Bar Kokhba Rebellion, it was a pretty crappy time to be Jewish in the 2nd century, so you might wanna

... dip out.

In other words, when God gives you lemons -- God must be evil.

In fact, something similar actually emerged after the Holocaust with what is now know as Abusive God Theology and that stuff makes... makes H.P. Lovecraft looks like Elmo on MDMA.

*whew* Abusive God Theology.

But there are logical and evidentiary problems with this line of thinking.

First, there's just no evidence of evil Demiurge thinking in any known Jewish text. It seems to fly in the face of every tenet of Judaism that is foundational to it, and Judaism does a pretty good job of preserving... heterodox opinions. And the Jewish writers at the time -- from the earliest Rabbis to Hellenizing Philo and the generations that follow -- they seem to all fall on the exact opposite position of the evil Demiurge idea and they never polemicize against what would seem to be that position. It's just silent in the narrative. That's just to say there's no Jewish evidence -- positive or negative -- of the emergence or even the presence of the evil Jewish Demiurge in their clrcles.

In fact, it only takes place in Christian works. In Christian Works. Primarily those of the second century like the famous Apocryphon of John, the most popular book in this genre.

However, the idea likely has its origins not in Judaism but in the Pagan demonization of the Israelite God Yahweh. At the heart of post-exilic Israelite mythology is the story of the Exodus, that is the accounts of the descendents of Joseph who were allegedly enslaved by Egyptian pharaohs then forced into labor camps for 400 years. Eventually the Egyptians perceived a demographic threat from the fecund Israelite women and engaged in mass infanticide with Moses surviving -- rescued of course -- and then raised in the house of Pharaoh. After beating an Egyptian taskmaster to death, Moses flees into the wilderness of Midian and gets advice from a.... burning bush... and a divine mission to return to Pharoah and liberate the Israelite people from Egyptian bondage.

Pharoah... he's a ... he's a nope on that one and uh, y'know... what follows are a series of horrifying plagues, eventually the Israelite God murdering all the firstborn Egyptians... even the poor animals get killed by the Angel of Death, including Pharaoh's son. After this, the Israelite people are liberated, but not before plundering Egyptian wealth.

They... they go on a looting rampage. Pharoah's despair of course turns to rage in the Sea of Reeds where the Red Sea is split. The Israelites escape and Pharoah and his army are drowned. Oh yeah, and the Israelites, they live happily ever after after that. Everything's fine. For the Israelites and the Jewish people. Nothing bad ever happens again.

Now, the origins of this myth, the Levitical Exodus story might be a good one. Friedman gives an interesting idea of what is called the Leviticus Exodus Theory. Might be a possible historical seed of the Exodus, but this myth has become foundational in the centuries prior to the turn of the Common Era as Judaism is becoming a religion as we might recognize it. And for Judeans living in Judea celebrating this myth in Hebrew, well... that's all fine and good as well as myths go.

But during this period, most Jews didn't live in Judea, they were increasingly spread throughout the world that would become the Roman empire and were especially concentrated in he Egyptian port city of Alexandria. The Egyptian city of Alexandria.

Further, this tale wasn't just in their native language there. It was being translated into the vernacular Greek of the time, and ... worse, it had even been translated into Greek for performance by Ezekiel the Tragedian by the 3rd Century BCE. This Judean Exodus myth was being performed in Egypt in the public vernacular... for all to hear. All during the twilight of the proud Egyptian autonomy. It could have only been salt in the wound of the end of Egyptian civilization as it had existed for thousands of years.

Now as you can well imagine... this myth was not exactly well-perceived by Egyptian people. It paints their empire as defeated by a bunch of slaves who expropriate them in the end. It paints the Egyptians as sorcerers, slavers and psychopathic baby murderers. It paints their traditional gods as helpless against... a single foreign desert god and their divine pharaohs as vicious pawns ultimately drowned, and... that's the worst possible death in the Egyptian religion.

Drowning. Is an awful death for the ancient Egyptians.

Any Egyptian would have found this myth highly offensive at basically every register. In fact, other non-Jews would have found it frankly laughable given the splendor and power of ancient Egypt and the relative backwater that was Judea. If one were to measure the power of the Gods by their relative social success... okay. The Judeans had one rather impressive temple to speak of. One. The Egyptians had hundreds. Thousands. And all of those were of supreme antiquity; ancientness and grandeur both being the prime indicators of the powers of the gods in antiquity. And thus the the Hellenizing Egyptians deployed a powerful religious weapon to counter this scandalous, this offensive Exodus story.

The Judean God was a Donkey Headed Demon.

Yeah, for real. That was the comeback.

Yahweh was a Donkey Headed Demon.

In the indigenous religion of the Egyptians, the demonic god Seth was responsible for chaos, the desert wilderness, violent storms, and the barbaric foreigners that threatened ancient Egypt. He was also the usurper who murdered his brother Osiris, hacking his body into pieces and locked eternally in combat with the symbol of justice, Horus.

He was depicted, at least early on, by a... strange otherwise unknown animal known in scholarship as the Typhonic Beast with a sunken muzzle and floppy ears. Sometimes appearing like a kind of hybrid dog-like, perhaps desert scavenger kind of animal. However, as the centuries went on, the head of this beast became more and more donkey-like. Further, the popular Canaanite storm god Baal also became associated with Seth in the Egyptian imagination. In fact, Baal's name when it's written in the Egyptian language uses this Seth animal determinative, probably indicating his foreignness and desert dwelling character.

This shows they were somehow equivocated in the mind of the average Egyptian scribe, at least. And as Hellenism took hold, so did the interpretatio graeca, whereby the gods of various national pantheons were set in a kind of system of grand correspondences. Thus famously the Greek Hermes was equivalent to the Roman Mercury, the Etruscan Turms, the Egyptian Thoth, the Carthaginian Tautus, the Gaulish Lugus, and most famously in our neck of the woods here, Hermes Trismegistus, sort of a combination of Hermes and Thoth into one mythical Egyptian sage. Of course, this could function in an ecumenical sense. The same Gods worshipped variously in various places acutally went to great lengths to lay the groundwork for the imperial religious tolerance of Roman fame. The Romans were kind of like we all worship the same set of Gods and we can all get a long as long as you pay your taxes.

But this could also be used for polemical ends and that seems to be exactly what the Egyptian answer to the scandal of the Exodus and the Israelite God Yahweh was. To link the demonic Seth of the Egyptian pantheon with the Israelite God Yahweh.

Now such a move would not have been at all theologically difficult for the Egyptians. The first step's already there: the linking of Egyptian Seth with Canaanite Baal. Of course, Judeans would have found this link horrible and offensive. Yahweh and Baal being bitter mythological enemies at least from the Judean perspective.

But from the Egyptian point of view? That would have been just what Freud would have called the narcissism of minor difference.

Both Baal and Yahweh were -- at least as far as the Egyptians cared -- minor Canaanite storm gods worshipped by barbaric foreigners whose only claim to historical fame was actually just trade routes that ran north and south through their lands near the sea down through the Shfela.

Otherwise, they were just desert-dwelling nomads or highlander bandits or both. Seth, the god of storms, chaos, the desert waste and foreigners, as historically linked with Baal... it was an easy slide to link with Yahweh. Yahweh himself was a kind of warrior storm god.

(Thunderstorms, though. Not coastal storms.)

In fact, just reading the Exodus story reveals more Seth-like properties.

He's a causer of pestilences and eclipses and brings darkness and turns the life-giving Nile into blood. Blood was used over the lentils of Israelite homes as a horrifying angel went through, murdering all these children and animals. Even the color red is linked to Seth in the ancient literature and in the Greek magical papyri. Yahweh leads them into the desert of all places to worship in the wilderness of Mt. Sinai at a mountain enshrouded in araphel in Hebrew.

Deep Darkness and fire and lightning abounding.

Even one of the major Greek terms for Yahweh Iao sounds a bit like the indigenous Egyptian word for donkey, : Iō. Or later the Coptic Iohao. literally Donkey-Headed. Iohoa. Yahweh. Eh. Donkey God. The animal at that time most associated with the demonic Seth.

Thus by the first few centuries before the common era, it had become a bit of token slander to suggest that the Jews worshipped a donkey-headed diety despite their claim that no images of their God were allowed, either in their Jerusalem temple of otherwise, for that matter.

Around 200 BCE we hear from the Alexandrian Menaceus that an Idumean -- a Southern person from same stock as Herod, actually -- had torn off the head off the Donkey shrine within the Jerusalem temple. It was a golden donkey head. A narrative that's repeated a century later by Apollonius Mullon and the Stoic philosopher Posidonius where in that story, Antiochus the IV Epiphanes (Hanukkah Antiochus) the Seleucid leader whose outrages would ultimately lead to war, he entered the temple and found a golden statue with a donkey headed deity around 167 BCE. Around the same time, around the turn of the common era, a certain Democritus also recounted Jewish worship of a donkey headed golden deity and likewise did Appion and even the historian Tacitus who should have known better, but he repeats the story anyway.

In the 90s in the common era, the Roman Jewish historian Josephus would actually have to defend Judeans from just these claims in his writings. Indeed the entire Exodus narrative was being inverted. Rather than being saved by a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, in the literature -- the pagan literature -- the Israelites were being depicted as lepers actually just expelled en mass from Egypt. Not liberated by any God. In fact, Plutarch even depicts the demon god Seth escaping Egypt on donkey back; a journey taking seven days, precisely to mock the origins of the Jewish sabbath. He's even said to father sons, one named Jerusalem, and one named Judea, literally making the Jews the descendants of the demon god Seth.

Of course, this would have been all the more outrageous and horrifying to the Judeans of the time considering their traditional way of making fun of the Egyptians. They mocked the Egyptian gods by saying they worshipped a bunch of animals -- with bird heads and crocodile heads, now their God -- their God -- now their god Yahweh was the stereotypically stupidest beast of them all: the braying donkey.

I apologize for any donkeys [reading]. I apologize.

Got to be careful this episode. I'm gonna get donkey cancelled.

[eerna]

ACOTAR smut overcomes me with profound sadness. It puts me in such a dark mood. It makes me feel so so so sorry but I don’t know why or for whom. There are tears behind the laughter

[hh0320]

𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞—

part two of the velvet opiate series. part one.

pairing: rockstar! hyunjin x reader (+ minho, felix, chan)

genre: visual gothic rock band, dark smut, hurt/comfort, toxic skz, set in the late 90’s-early 00’s.

word count: 4k.

warnings: profanity, sexual themes, manipulation, drug & alcohol abuse, violence, self hate, mentioned self harm, boy on boy (this ch. only), mentions of bdsm, light sadism.

a/n: you guys have no idea how grateful i am for every single person that liked/interacted with the first part. seriously tysm, i have no words!! hope you guys like this one just as much 🤍

“Don’t fucking die on me, now, Hyun.”

Hyunjin jumped awake, panting, and sweaty. He blinked in the pitch blackness of his hotel room, nightmare still stuck on his eyelids. In, out, in, out…

It had been a week since you. A week locked in these four walls, with no way out, except a window fall from the seventh floor. Some nights he’d considered it—what life was he leading, anyway, but one that followed death? Why not just do it?

He’d do anything to see you again, but his manipulation tactics held no power anymore. He blew those chances when he got high on strict orders to do the exact opposite. He let down Felix…

In, out, in, out—

There was a knock on the door, and Chan’s figure filled its frame, looking around before turning on the light. Hyunjin scrunched his eyes, bringing a hand over his face. He’d been sleeping for fifteen hours, it was evening of the next day already.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he said, throwing a shirt toward Hyunjin’s way. “And cover up—nobody wants to see that.”

That was referring to the blonde boy’s arms, the marks on them, the popping veins, the fragile paleness. Hyunjin complied—he didn’t wanna see it, either.

“We have practice, tonight. There’s been a change in plans, tomorrow we play at a bar—VIP exclusive party.”

“I thought we’d stopped doing that.”

“Boss’ friend—he paid good money to secure us,” Chan explained, simply.

He pulled the thick curtains to reveal a beautiful, dusty pastel sky, bleeding its last colors before everything went dark. Hyunjin hadn’t seen outside in days, having spent majority of the week sleeping. A cool breeze entered through the now open window, and he was suddenly very grateful for his older friend.

Grateful he stuck around, thankful he hasn’t abandoned him yet. Kicked him out. Because it will happen, one day; he will have to leave, cut ties with all of them, and it’ll be the hardest thing he’ll ever do. No one has stayed this long before, kept with his bullshit for as long as his band has. Hyunjin knows he’s a helpless case, but he’s still grateful they consider him worthy of saving.

Hyunjin has never thought himself worthy of anything. Many times he’s had good things, all valuable and precious, but he’s fucked them all up. Turned them into wrong, sharp edges, all crooked and jagged—like him. You can only do what you are, everything else is fake. Pretend.

“Do you need more sketchbooks?” Chan points at the mess on his nightstand.

When Hyunjin isn’t playing the guitar, he draws. All he can, all he sees—his mind is a hyperactive black hole, and for that, at least, he is proud of. Images come to him as easy as breathing, and before he knows it, his hands are already sketching, drawing, shading, hours passing by, until finally the pencils drop, the brushes halt, and he stares back at the abyss he’s created.

“Yes,” he croaks, “please.”

Looking for his pack of cigarettes, he finds it empty, lying on the ground. Chan offers him one, and lights it for him. The burning in his throat soothes his pounding headache. His mouth felt like cotton, his hair like hay against his face.

He pulled it up in a bun, taking another drag of his borrowed cancer stick.

“You look like crap, I’m not going to bullshit you,” Chan sighed, sitting on the edge of the queen sized bed.

“But at least that shit’s out of your system. This will be the last time I say anything to you, Hyun, so I want you to actually fucking listen to me, okay?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, while Hyunjin finished his cigarette.

“I don’t want to have to kick your ass out, so fucking—just get your shit together, Hyunjin. You almost died—look,” Chan struggled to get the words out, couldn’t even look Hyunjin in the eye—the blonde fell back on his pillow, stared at the whiteness of the ceiling.

He’d heard all of it, before. Yet he knew, this time was for real. No more free passes, no more bullshit. He would have to deal with it—deal with the fact he was stuck living this life, whatever the fuck it entailed, whatever it meant. He was part of something much bigger than him, and he was being a selfish prick, not caring about what he’d leave behind, about the damage he’d cause.

He knew all this. So why, for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he just accept it? Why couldn’t he just do it?

“I know you’re fucked in the head. I know your childhood was messed up, and you think it’s too late. But it’s not. You can still choose to quit while you’re ahead of it. Quit before it fucking kills you.”

Chan had never seen Hyunjin cry. But the sobs that teared through his bandmates chest while he lay on that bed—it broke Chan’s heart to see his friend like this. Because he knew that Hyunjin had already had this conversation with himself— because he was frustrated he couldn’t find the answer within him.

Why couldn’t he quit? What was stopping him? Chan couldn’t say. But he stayed with the sobbing boy until nighttime came, stayed with him until they absolutely had to go to practice.

And he listened, in between those tears that fell, in between those broken intakes of shaky breath—I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve to have this.

I don’t deserve to be happy.

Felix was too hungover for this.

Chan had walked in the studio with the taller blonde following closely, both seemingly exhausted. The minute his eyes met Hyunjin’s, he wanted to crawl underneath his skin, and avoid him forever.

Seeing your other half passed out, unresponsive, sprawled out in a random abandoned trap house, in the worst part of town would make you feel that way. The way his pupils had reached the back of his head, not recognizing Felix, having no idea of his surroundings—he had promised.

He thought promises meant something between them. If to no one else, at least to him. The betrayal burned deep within his heart, but so did something else. Panic. Every time he’d close his eyes, there lay Hyunjin, half dead, needle in his limb hand.

“You have some fucking nerve, showing up.”

Hyunjin flinched at his best friend’s tone, visibly hurt. Chan glared at Felix, but handed Hyunjin his guitar, tuned and ready to be used.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” Chan assumed his usual leader position, dissolving the argument before it could start.

Too bad this time it wouldn’t work.

“At least he’s not haunting our asses,” Minho commented absentmindedly, playing something low on his bass.

“How can you joke about this?” Felix said, intently staring down at the floor. He furrowed his brows, and shook his head, before pushing off the wall, and walking out the confined space.

Hyunjin sighed, looking back at the rest of his band. Both men nodded, and Hyunjin went after the younger one. He found him on the floor, next to the vending machine, sipping from a soda can. He sat down next to him, both silent, both distraught.

He had never meant to hurt Felix. He also didn’t have a fucking clue—how to stop sabotaging his life, how to be considerate of others. Hyunjin was never taught how to receive love, never shown how to hold it in his hand, take care of it.

He had never meant to hurt Felix, yet he did anyway, every single time.

“I just want you to stay alive,” said the freckled boy, under his breath, tears pooling at the edges of his light eyes.

Hyunjin lit a cigarette, played with the lighter in his hand. Opened his mouth to speak—said nothing.

“I thought it wasn’t that serious. That you were just fucking around, like Minho. What the fuck did I know, huh?” Felix rocked back and forth, chuckling darkly.

“I never meant for you to see me like that.” Hyunjin knew how that sounded, knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.

Now that he was caught by the one person that looked up to him, what? He was gonna magically stop being addicted to drugs? What exactly did everyone expect from him? If anything, this whole situation made him wanna shoot himself in the head even more.

He really needed to see you. He wanted to disappear with you, in you. Make you scream his name—he wanted his mark on you, just how you’d marked him that first moment he laid eyes on you.

You were untainted, had nothing to do with him. Felix had been the sun for Hyunjin, a bright figure shedding his light on everything, forgiving and holy.

Hyunjin had tainted him, just like he bleeds on anything he touches. Never knows when it’s too far, always too much, all at once. No one could understand better than himself—he fucking loathed who he was. Would rather die, than hurt more people around him.

Yet if you poked, he’d stab back. That was the nature of Hwang Hyunjin.

“No one can fucking help you.”

“I never asked for help,” Hyunjin’s voice held no emotion.

Felix grabbed him by the neck, and kissed him hard.

They growled deep, attacking each other’s mouths like starved animals. Hyunjin pushed him back, and got on top of him, soda spilling everywhere. Both men were tugging on each other’s clothes, both forgetting they were in the middle of a hallway.

They didn’t do this often. But neither of them could bear to get physical with each other, their feelings too deep.

“You should go to her,” Felix muttered, panting. “Fuck her numb.”

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Hyunjin smirked against his mouth, biting on his lip.

“You’re straight as a fucking line, Hwang. I don’t take advantage of lost souls.”

Hyunjin chuckled, tracing Felix’s lips with his fingers. “A shame,” he whispered.

A knowing look passed between them, before Chan yelled from afar to hurry up. They got on their feet, simpering at each other, hearts heavy with longing.

Hyunjin put an arm around his friend, sometimes more, always important, a new cigarette in his mouth.

“We gotta go with daddy first,” he joked, entering the studio once again.

The light is able to penetrate, but it never stays for long. Like an unwanted guest, it excuses itself and vanishes before Hyunjin can realize it was even there.

The party was at an underground bar, with low lighting and lots of drunk, rich people, looking to let go for once.

Velvet Opiate showed up on stage dressed in all black, opening with one of their darker songs. Felix taking the center, he sang in his deep baritone voice, putting everyone under his spell.

Hyunjin had always admired the younger member for his ability to entrance whole stadiums. He appeared innocent, his genuine personality being passed as naivety, but the band knew—Felix had a sensuality, a charm, that could make you drop on your knees immediately, surrender your soul to him.

He used it to his advantage, often.

Applause, and then Chan started the next song, Minho joining in, expert fingers strumming the bass line for ‘Burn’. Felix got a hold of the microphone stand, bringing his lips close, erotically speaking into it:

“Good evening, we’re Velvet Opiate.”

Hyunjin thought he imagined it at first, a glimpse of your hair. But then he saw you, stealing glances on stage, while serving his manager’s table, and his eyes widened, hands almost messing up the melody of the song.

You, here, amongst these pretentious assholes. Why?

‘Run through my veins, like disease… disease…’

By the end of the set, all boys had spotted the reason for Hyunjin’s disheveled state. The girl with the mini skirt, circling around, getting tips by throwing smiles at old scum bags.

Minho had to hold him back from running to you. He doubted Hyunjin was thinking straight, because he was about to cause a scene in front of everyone. The blonde looked at Minho’s hand, and back at you, nodding, pulling his hand away, disappearing behind the curtains first.

Hyunjin waited by the bar, following you with his eyes. You seemed to be ignoring him, focusing on entertaining those dickheads. He hated each and every one of them, for groping you, for undressing you with their disgusting stares—those higher ups from their recording label, with their dirty money, and old ideologies.

It had been extremely hard for their manager to persuade them to sign the band. The chief director of the board stuck in his belief that ballads sold way more than a rock band. He couldn’t have been more wrong, at the end. Velvet Opiate went platinum on their first week, releasing their debut single. Have sold more than ten million copies of their latest CD, with sold out tours domestically, and internationally.

The photographers of the event snapped pictures of him, before Joon shooed them away, turning their attention towards the birthday guy and his friends—Velvet Opiate’s said director, and CEO of the company, along with people Hyunjin has never met.

You almost got caught in the picture, politely scurrying to the side, but director Han had other plans, instead grabbing you by the waist and forcing you to stand next to him. A nervous smile on your lips, you played it off well. If Hyunjin hadn’t been doing the same thing for the past four years of his life, he would’ve very well been fooled.

“Goddamnit,” he hissed under his breath, hands balling into fists.

He had to get you away from there. No money in the world was worth whoring yourself out for these idiots.

Finishing his drink, he put a cigarette between his lips, noticing Minho coming his way, Chan and Felix signing autographs a few feet away.

“Apparently, your friend was hired for this event,” Minho informed him, sporting a cig himself.

“They’re harassing her, the fuckers.”

Minho studied his band mate, figuring there’s a story between the two of you. Hyunjin hadn’t cared for anyone like this, in a long time.

“What can you do? It’s her job,” he affirmed, hands in pockets. “I, on the other hand, can provide a distraction.”

Hyunjin looked at him, watching as he walked towards the men, politely interrupting their banter. Minho had always been pleasant; he knew how to carry a conversation, manipulating the room to his will with cat like movements. He was intoxicating.

Sensing your cue, you escaped the crowd of men. That was Hyunjin’s chance—he followed you, snatching your hand, ushering the both of you through the back exit, and out into the starless night.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, trying to break free from your kidnapper’s death grip, before his features registered in you, morphing into the man that had been tormenting your dreams as of late.

The rockstar that had stolen your heart with his songs, on stage, moments ago. He was now standing in front of you, gazing at you angrily.

You took a step back, suddenly afraid. He towered over you, an angel dressed in an all black suit, blazer open to reveal naked skin underneath, sharp eyes preying, pale hair in a half up ponytail.

You were totally exposed in your work uniform, which covered barely the essentials. You’d been forced to wear it, and a year into it, you couldn’t really complain—it worked in your favor, your tips doubling, tripling the less you wore.

Why was Hyunjin so angry with you?

“Hello, sweetheart,” he spoke in a low, dangerous voice, closing the gap between you.

You were trapped against the building’s brick wall and his firm chest. Putting his arms up, blocking you in, there was nowhere to run, and he seemed to know that, as well.

He smiled at you, his pretend serene face level with yours.

“Tell me,” he continued, lips brushing against your own, “are you in such dire need for money?”

His question caught you off guard. Was he insinuating…?

“I do what I have to,” you replied sharply. “I have no one to care after me.”

He hummed, fingers tracing circles against your arm, glinting eyes running over your frame. A fire was starting in your belly, traveling lower. You’d missed him incredibly.

Even if he had just insulted you, you couldn’t help your body’s reaction to him. Couldn’t help wanting him gravely.

“What if I do?” He whispered in your ear, his arm snaking around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “What if I take care of you?”

You could feel all of him, your heart beating the same as his.

“Would you accept me?” He traced a path with his tongue, down your neck, ending just above your bust.

“What are you asking me?” You breathed, completely taken by him.

Why couldn’t you seem to get your thoughts straight whenever you were near him? What was it about him that drove you absolutely crazy with lust?

Hyunjin smirked, withdrawing from you completely. A pack of cigarettes in his hand, he is soon lighting one, blowing smoke your way, slowly backing away, ‘till his back hits the wall opposite you.

What was his game? Why were you dying, when you could see him but not touch him? Get a grip, (Y/N). That’s what he wants.

You’d give everything. He only had to come back, come closer. You put your hands behind you, scared to reach out, when he put such distance between you.

“Will you come with me?” He crossed one leg in front of the other, hand in his trousers pocket, the other bringing the cig to his full mouth, taking a long drag of it, all the while never breaking eye contact.

“Stay with me? Do what I ask of you?” He cocked an eyebrow, seeing you squirm, enjoying the way you rubbed your legs together—all for him.

Would you? “Yes,” you sighed. “Yes.”

His husky laugh drove you over the edge. You went to move towards him, but he shook his head, making a ‘tsk’ sound. Your legs locked in place, nails digging into your palms. Please…please let me…

“Good girl.”

You heard it, then. The clicking noise. It all made sense, suddenly—his distance, the hushed tone. It also knocked some sense into you; you’d been seen with the lead guitarist of Velvet Opiate. He wasn’t just a normal man, he was a superstar—and he’d chosen you.

What had been so special about you? You lead a lonely life, work being the most that was going on for you; you lived in a small apartment, making ends meet by showing off your body. There was nothing exciting about you, nothing much at all, and yet this man was risking a scandal not just for him, but his band also, just by being near you.

He watched you as your mind went into overdrive, stepping on his cigarette bud. A part of him, the worst half, was anxiously waiting for you to refuse him, to dump him right then and there, and go back to serving those smug bastards, but the rest of him argued you wouldn’t.

He’d chosen you, because you were different—because your soul spoke to his, your body had reacted to his touch instinctively. The loneliness in his heart cognized yours, sought it out. You had to have felt it.

Either way, it was too late, now. He was in too deep. If you didn’t feel the same, he would have to make you. Whatever it took.

“Come out,” Hyunjin called out to the paparazzo. “You have what you fucking need, come out.”

“Hyunjin—” You weren’t sure picking a fight with the guy would do any good, but—

“Quiet,” he cut you off sharply.

Your knees buckled. No one had ever spoken to you with such assumed authority. Tears sprang forward, anger radiating through you. He reprimanded you, like a child.

And yet you made no move to leave him behind. Why were you so unable to rebel against him? You knew seemingly nothing about this man, you could leave now, and never have to deal with any of this.

You didn’t budge an inch.

The guy hesitantly proceeded to show himself to Hyunjin. He looked to be in his late twenties, carrying a big camera, a hat covering most his features.

“I’m not looking for trouble, man, just doing my job here.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, musing over the words, his gaze turning deadly.

“Delete those,” he ordered, stance appearing casual, pushing off the wall, walking towards the worried man.

“Come on, man, you know how much these photos could go for—”

You didn’t see it coming, if you were being completely honest. Hyunjin didn’t look like the kind of person who’d get violent, but—

His long fingers wrapped around the poor guy’s neck, a menacing silence choking the air, making it hard to breathe. You didn’t know if you should run to go get help, or if you should look the other way.

You understood why he was doing this, but it was getting too far. The paparazzo made a gurgling sound, wheezing out half words, begging to be let go. Hyunjin released him—only to grab him by the shoulder, and punch him in the stomach. The man doubled over, coughing.

You were terrified. What was this 180? Why weren’t you doing anything?

“I assume you heard me the first time,” Hyunjin asserted. “Now, I’m scaring my girl, so why aren’t we cutting this short?”

It took a couple seconds for the person to calm down, but as soon as he did, he took ahold of his camera and deleted everything, confirming he did, shaking violently.

Hyunjin nodded, smiling a cold, smug smile. “Thank you. I’d appreciate if you kept this between us.”

All but running, the man disappeared around the corner, leaving you alone with the monster.

My girl. Why was your heart beating so fast from those two words?

“Where were we, sweetheart?” Hyunjin turned and smiled warmly at you. “I apologize, I’m not usually like this.”

You had whiplash from his bipolar behavior. You needed a drink, you needed space.

You never stopped once wanting him.

“Why’d you do that? It was only a few pictures… you almost choked him to death.”

He perked at the word, chuckling at you. He licked his lips, and leaned down, face to face with you, hands in his pockets once again.

“Being seen with me… you know what it would to to you? You’d run from me. I’m protecting you against what I am, angel.”

Of course, you’d been so naive—the fans. The death threats, the gossip, the media would eat the band alive. They were barely recovering from a previous scandal, you didn’t want to add to the burden.

But it would happen, someday, wouldn’t it? Secrets always come out.

And what would happen to you? You’d be fully consumed, thrown aside. Just the thought of it, made your blood go cold. You wouldn’t survive that, you were sure.

“Go back inside,” he petted your head. “I see you’ve had enough for today.”

Your eyes snapped to his. So soon? “When will I see you again?”

He kissed you, then. Hand resting on your cheek, his tongue invading your mouth. It made you dizzy, this kiss. It was so tender, so passionate. You couldn’t believe you could feel so much for a person, in such a short time.

And for him to feel it back. You could feel tears running hot, and salty. Hyunjin tasted every single one.

“I’ll find you, baby. You’re mine, are you not?”

And you were. So completely, so entirely.

He smiled, knowingly. Sweet girl. Ready to give it all up.

For someone like him.

[xoxo-teddybear]

What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Physical injuries, cursing

Summary: An argument gone out of hand. Y/N just wanted Katsuki to be home more. They’re married and yet she barely sees him throughout the week. When she finally speaks on her hurt feelings, she gets a reaction she definitely wasn’t expecting.

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

A/N:.....I cried while writing this.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

‘He’s gone already. Again. Like always.’

Y/N had awoken to another empty bed. Her husband’s side of the mattress remained cold and empty. This wasn’t anything new. It’s been like this for the past few months. She would wake up alone, eat breakfast alone, spend her day alone, eat dinner alone, and go back to sleep at the end of the day...alone.

It’s not that Katsuki is intentionally ignoring Y/N. He loves her with his everything, he truly does! But villains never rest and neither does he. He’s so preoccupied with hero work that when he does get a day off, his friends drag him away to a bar or game night. Y/N always ran through his head but she had always been so understanding. And besides, she knows how busy the life of a pro is. She used to be one so she gets it. Right?

Wrong. She doesn’t get it. Because even when she was a pro, her and Katsuki always found time for each other. And ever since said man made her quit, claiming he could take care of both of them easily and he would feel better knowing his beloved is safe at home, they’ve seen each other less and less. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Y/N was willing to quit her dream because she found a new dream in Katsuki. She always imagined that being his little housewife would give them more time together but the opposite of that came true. Now she sits in the big empty house with no company for hours on end.

Her sadness builds up every day. She misses her husband. She tries to be an understanding wife but at this point, it’s like he’s not even trying to make an effort to see her. It’s like he’s settled to just coming home to her sleeping form and waking up to her in the exact same state, leaving before he can witness her do anything else. He should understand her though, no? I mean, she had brought it up to him in a very casual way and so he never took it seriously, but she’s mentioned it before. He should have a pretty vivid image of how shes been feeling. Right?

After 6 months of loneliness and being ‘Katsuki-deprived,’ Y/N made her move to speak to her husband about her feelings. She already imagined the outcome. An argument due to Katsuki’s brash behavior and her ‘never back down’ attitude, sad times bringing in the silent treatment for the two of you up until the both of you give in and forgive each other due to the love you have. Finally ending in a compromise. Y/N released a heavy breath as she looked at the time.

1:36 a.m. Just a few more minutes until Katsuki’s home.

—

He was pissed. 3 large scale bank robberies, 10 villain-wannabe fights, an argument with his publicist about his ‘out of line attitude,’ and Deku replacing him on a random ass billboard. The last detail wouldn’t have mattered if it was anybody else but the fact that it was Deku had him riled up. He just wanted to go home to a quiet house with his beautiful wife and admire her gorgeous, slumbering state. However that was not what he was greeted with.

Katsuki grumbled as he unlocked the front door and walked in. He noticed the lights were still on and saw Y/N still awake, seated on the couch. On any other day, he’d be elated to see his wife was still up. They’d talk and cuddle and go to sleep together. If he was lucky, they’d both make love until the sun rose. But tonight, that wouldn’t be happening. He wanted a quiet house with his sleeping wife. Not..whatever was about to happen. He sighed as he dropped his bag at the front door and sloppily placed his keys in the glass bowl near the door.

“What’re you doing up dumbass?” He asked as he walked to the kitchen, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He needed a drink.

“I was waiting for you, Katsuki. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you said in a soft voice, hoping it would suppress his for sure incoming anger. Katsuki closed the fridge with a kick to the heavy door and chugged down a quarter of his drink.

“I’m not in the mood. Had a shitty day and I wanna sleep. Just go to bed.” He said sternly while trying to finish his beer as fast as he could.

“Don’t you think I would’ve done that hours ago? I wouldn’t have stayed up and waited for you if this wasn’t important. Please Katsuki, I really wanna talk.” Bakugou was beginning to grow annoyed. Why wouldn’t you just drop it already? He squeezed his bottle hard enough for it too crack before he spoke with a louder voice.

“Y/N! You’re not listening! I’m tired. I had a horrible day and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to stay up anymore, and I don’t want to listen to whatever bullshit you’re about to complain and bitch about like you always do!” He screamed. His words made your jaw drop.

“Not listening?! That’s all I do! All I do is listen to your every command so that you come home happy-“

“Well it looks like you failed today!” He said, cutting you off.

“Quit interrupting! And what was it that you said?! All I do is bitch and complain?! I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here Katsuki!” You pleaded, still hoping he would give in and listen. And he did...just not in the way you’d expect.

“Fine then! If this’ll get you to quit being an annoying ass waste of time, then speak! Talk! What the hell do you want?!” He asked, screaming at you, furious at all the dramatics you’ve brought up in one night.

His words kind of stung. ‘Annoying ass? Waste of time? Is this what he thinks I am?’ You grew silent at his insults and Katsuki seethed even more.

“Oh what? I scream at you and you bitch up? Toughen up Y/N, jeez. Quit acting like a baby! Tell me what you wanted to say!” He yelled.

“.......I just....I just wanted you to spend some time with me. .....Be home more.” You said in a quiet and broken voice. You looked down to the now very interesting floor as you played with your hands.

“Seriously? This shit again? I’m a pro-hero, Y/N! I’m busy! I’m not gonna drop saving lives just because your brat ass wants someone to notice you! Since when were you such an attention whore?” He asked while rolling his neck to relieve his strained muscles. Your eyes widen at the ground due to his words and your head snapped back up to face him.

“A-attention whore? I-...I just want my husband to stop working so much. I don’t know..maybe have a day off or two!” She said with a crinkled nose as you screamed.

“I do have days off, Moron. It’s why I’m not overworked, ever thought about that?!” He screamed back.

“And you spend those days off away from me! I’m not trying to act like the world revolves around me but I would hope my own husband would spend a day with me instead of his friends that he ALWAYS sees because you ALL WORK TOGETHER!” You argued. You made a valid point and even Katsuki knew that, but he was too stubborn to admit defeat. He was still tired but he had enough energy to put you back in your place. His eyes popped as a vein grew on his neck.

“Well- WELL YOU’RE ONCE AGAIN JUST BITCHING AND COMPLAINING LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO! I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET!” He screamed.

“Don’t understand?! You know what? I know you don’t because you never listen to-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, I WASNT DONE TALKING! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AROUND THE HOUSE, LAZING AROUND, DOING NOTHING BUT TRY TO ARGUE WITH-“

“LAZING AROUND?!” You shouted in disbelief. “WHO MAKES YOUR MEAL PREP THE NIGHT BEFORE SO YOU CAN ENJOY IT AT WORK AND IN THE MORNING? WHO CLEANS THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERYDAY WHILE YOU’RE GONE? WHO MAKES SURE YOU HAVE A FULL FRIDGE, CLEAN HOUSE, GOOD FOOD, AND A HAPPY LIFE? ME KATSUKI! ME!”

“Happy life? DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU BITCH?! NEWSFLASH, IM NOT! SO CONGRATS Y/N! YOU FAILED ONCE AGAIN! AND WHO GIVES A FUCK IF YOU PLAY MAID WHILE IM AWAY?! IM BUSY SAVING THE FUCKING WORLD! THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS BE A GOOD WIFE SINCE YOU CANT EVEN BE A FUCKING PRO ANYMORE!” He insulted again.

“because of FUCKING YOU!” You argued once more.

“I DID IT FOR YOU!” He said while throwing his bottle to the wall, causing it to shatter. “I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOUR UNGRATEFUL BITCH ASS! I PAY THE BILLS! I BRING HOME THE CASH! I GIVE YOU THE MONEY TO BUY ALL THE FUCKING FOOD, CLOTHES, AND ANY OTHER STUPID SHIT YOU WANT! AND ON TOP OF THAT, I STUFF YOUR STUPID CUNT TO PLEASURE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS. AT THIS POINT, YOU’RE JUST A WALKING HOLE FOR ME TO USE!”

His words hurt. They broke your heart. Did he really feel this way? If so, why was he even with you anymore. You notice a smirk grow on his face at your bewildered state. He looked as if he just won something. However, the smirk dropped into a scowl once he saw your eyes begin to pool with tears.

“Oh great! Cry! Go ahead! Just shed your fucking tears like you always do! I’m going to bed! Come join me when you’re done being an annoying bitch.” He said and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away. You didn’t want the conversation to go this way and there was no conclusion. You needed this to be resolved now. You just wanted your husband back. You reached out to stop him from walking but the unforeseen happened.

“Katsuki..don’t walk away from thi-“

“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He said and smacked your arms away with a burning palm. Without realizing, Katsuki began to spark his quirk and so when he went in to push you away, he burned your forearm.

A loud blast and smoke filled the room and your screams of pain invaded his ears. The sound made a shocked face grow on him as he quickly turned to see the damaged he had caused. His heart sank as he saw you crying while holding your burnt arm with your other hand. You were slightly hunched over in pain as you took notice of the damage that had been caused. That he caused.

“Y/N!” Bakugou softly shouted as he ran to you. He wanted to help but before he could even lay a finger on you, you flinched. The action caused him to hesitate and hold himself back. He ran to the kitchen sink to get a cold rag and he brought it back to you. “Baby! I am so sor-“

You pushed him away and off of you as you quickly walked to your bedroom with a shadow casted over your eyes. Tears still flowed down your cheeks as sniffles could be heard from your cherry red nose. Katsuki couldn’t believe what he just did and ran to follow you.

“Y/N! Please listen! I didn’t mean it! I don’t know how that happened Teddy Bear but I swear I didn’t mean it! I swear I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said! I’m sor-“

*SLAM* *click!*

Katsuki realized he followed you out the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, and to the entrance of the master bedroom you both shared before you slammed the door and locked it right in his face.

“Baby! Please open the door!” He said while knocking in a very rushed manner. He wanted nothing more than to help you and treat the damage he caused to his beloved wife. He had royally fucked up. He began turning and jiggling the locked knob in an attempt to get it open but failed. “Please Y/N! I have to take care of you and that burn. I’m so sorry but please let me in!”

On the other side of the door, you pressed your back against it as you held in your sobs and slid to the bottom. You pulled both lips in to conceal your voice while you held your wrist to examine the burn on your arm. It was so bad. Your skin turned an angry shade of red as it blistered and bled. You were dripping blood all over your carpeted floor and so you ran to the master bathroom in the bed room.

You turned on the sink and placed your forearm under the cold, running water. The water soothed it a bit but it wasn’t enough to cover the pain. You turned off the sink and grabbed a hand rag as you patted down on your wound. You took out the first aid kit and cared for yourself. You had to take the alcohol to clean it and sucked in a breath before you poured the solution over the burn. You screamed as it seemed to have hurt 10x more. After dabbing cotton over it, you wrapped it in bandages and took a breath of relief.

‘What just happened?’ You thought to yourself.

The entire time, Katsuki was still begging for you to open up. He heard your scream and grew frantic. He banged on the door and cried for you, still hoping, praying, that you would let him in. When nothing happened, he resorted back to calling out for you but to no avail.

About an hour went by and it was almost 4 in the morning. You sat on the bed with your arms holding your knees to your chest. You stared at the wrap as the memories of what went down tonight flashed through your brain.

‘Waste of time...brat ass...attention whore...ungrateful...annoying bitch.’

His words struck you right in your heart. Cruel thoughts began to fill your head.

‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me. I’m worthless.’ Your thoughts would’ve continued until a quiet knock snapped you out of you mind.

“....Y/N?...Baby?” It was Katsuki of course, but a softer version of him. A broken one. “..I don’t know if you’re listening or if you’re awake..but I need you to know that I’m so so sorry.” It was easy to hear his muffled and staggered voice that exposed his tears and sobs. “If I could turn back time right now, I would do tonight all over again, I swear. I would’ve came home and listened to you. And we could’ve talked things out. We would’ve came out of this problem being a stronger couple than we were before...because that’s what we always do. We always make it out of the dark together..because we’re a team..and I need you. .....Please...please don’t leave me Y/N. I love you so much. ‘M so sorry that I hurt you..that I burned you..that I’m such a terrible husband. But I promise you I’ll fix everything in the morning...................Teddy Bear?”

He didn’t know it, but you were listening. You heard every word but refrained from speaking. You knew that the second you did, you’d break down and go crawling back to him....but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to leave. He physically burned you and you wanted to leave. You were going to sleep for a few hours, and when you would awaken, you would pack a bag and leave. And so, you began your plan and tried to get some sleep as tear streaks marked your face. It would all be over soon.

You woke up to the morning sun.

6:50 a.m.

You rose out of bed and rubbed at your puffy eyes. You quietly got ready in the bathroom and applied the slightest bit of makeup to look more presentable. You took out a pair of shoes and tossed them to the center of the room. You were in your closet and pulled out a bag. You stuffed it full of a few clothes for you to wear, you couldn’t stay here. Not after what he did. You fought through the pain as you pulled on your jacket and placed your shoes on. You wiped your tears as you picked up your purse and got ready to leave. You were going to stay in a hotel. Didnt matter where or how expensive. You just needed to get away.

Finally, you walked to the exit of the bedroom. You took a breath before you slowly turned the knob and was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Bakugou. He had slept in the hallway in front of the bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. His knees were scrunched up with his arms resting there to be used as a pillow. He layed his head atop of his arms and as you looked down into his hands, you saw the rag. The exact rag from the argument. The rag that he attempted to use to help you. Little did you know, Bakugou hadn’t planned on getting rid of it until you let him use it to help you. He wanted nothing more than to fix his mistake and cater to you and your wound.

You shook your head as you felt tears began to fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You took a step and sadly awoken the exact man you were trying to avoid. Bakugou had quickly woken up when he heard the slightest noise and was blessed with the beauty that is you. He looked up at you with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Y/N...” was what he whispered before he quickly got up to run to you.

“Y/N!” He ecstatically said with a hint of relief. He was about to wrap him arms around you but you kept a hand at his chest to keep him at bay. “Baby?...”

Bakugou looked at you with hurt and confused eyes when you didn’t welcome his embrace. Even when you were mad at him, you still allowed him to hold you so what gives? He looked at you and your attire. He noticed your jacket and shoes and saw you holding a bag. “W-what are you doing?”

You walked away from him but he snatched your wrist to make you turn to face him. “Y/N! What’s going on?!” He frantically asked with crazed eyes. You snatched your wrist back and ran down the stairs and he copied your actions. He followed you into the living room until he grabbed your wrist once more. You tried to pull away again but found it harder because this time, he gripped it tight.

“W-where are you going baby?”

“Dont call me that.”

“What? Why? Baby, please tell me what’s going on.” He begged as he squeezed your wrist.

“What’s going on? Are you serious? What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Bakugou’s eyes went wide once more and shook his head.

“N-no! No, why!?”

“Why?! Look at my arm!” You screamed.

“I know! I know and I’m so sorry! But..but you don’t have to go! I can fix you up, I’ll take you to recovery girl, I will bring you to the best hospitals around the world to fix that for you! Just please don’t go!” He bargained and offered everything but you weren’t budging.

“It’s not just the burn Bakugou.” You deadpanned with a nonchalant face. His heart felt heavy after hearing your voice refer to him with his family name.

“..I-it’s Katsuki! Your Katsuki! It’s Suki, baby please!” Bakugou stepped closer as he cried once more but you backed away again. His hold on your wrist still strong as his fingers played with the ring on your hand, trying to calm himself down and remind himself that you are still his wife.

You shook your head at his pleading. “Bakugou. You burned me. But not only that, you’ve neglected me for months.”

“I know that! And I’m sorry! I will spend just as much time off of work to make it up to you, I swear I will, I promise!” He once again bargained.

“It’s too late.”

“No it’s not, please, it can’t be!”

“It is Bakugou-“

“KATSUKI! ....please...please don’t call me that. I’m your Katsuki,” he said with a whimpering voice. At this point you felt the tears come through, but you still didn’t allow them to fall.

“Katsuki...I can’t stay here. Too much damage has been done.” You said with a soft voice. Bakugou continued to shake his head ‘no,’ but you already made up your mind. You used your wind quirk in your hand and blew his grip off your wrist. You took the quick opportunity to walk to the door but Bakugou grabbed your bag off your shoulder in a childish panic and attempt to get you to stay.

“Hey!-“

“Please Y-Y/N! Please don’t leave me! I- I know I’ve been a terrible husband! I’m sorry! B-But I promise I’ll do better. I’ll stay at home more, I’ll spend more time with you, Please!”

“Katsu-“

“I’ll buy you whatever you want! I’ll get you all the expensive brands, I’ll find you all the best jewelry, I’ll give you all the money in the world! I’ll give you the whole world! Please stay! I love you so much Y/N!”

“Katsuki, give me back my bag,” you tried to reach for it but Bakugou kept it away from you and pulled you in with one arm and held you in a tight embrace as he cried on your shoulder.

“Please...you can’t do this to me. I need you. I love you! I’ll do better! I’ll be a better husband, I swear..just please don’t go.” He softly spoke with a broken voice and soft hiccups. It was wrong for you to do this, but you sighed and pretended to forgive him as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You hugged him tight and he fell for it as he openly sobbed now. His other arm that held your bag came to wrap around your waist but before it could, you snatched the bag out of his hold and pushed him away. You ran to the door and held a tight grip on the knob as you picked up your car keys. You saw Katsuki attempt to run back to you but you created a strong barrier of wind to protect you. “IM SORRY Y/N! PLEASE DONT!”

You took off your ring and tossed it to him through the barrier. He was quick to catch it and hold it right in fear of losing it. He had to find a way to get it back on your finger. “No..baby...Teddy Bear please!”

“....I’ll send you the divorce papers....Goodbye Katsuki.”

With that, you walked out of the door, still keeping the barrier alive. Once you started the car, you dispersed of the wind and Bakugou opened the door and ran to your car.

“Y/N wait! Please!” He cried out but he was too late. You pulled out of the driveway and drove off quickly down the street. He watched your car go as he began hyperventilating and tugging at his ash blonde locks. He ran back inside the house with your ring in hand as he looked for his phone. He found it on the kitchen island and quickly dialed your number. Of course, it went straight to voicemail but that didn’t stop him from calling about 50x more.

“This-...this has to be some stupid dream. A fucking nightmare...” he said as he tried to hide in denial. “Yeah...a nightmare. This is what it is...I’ll..I’ll wake up soon and she’ll be by my side in the morning...sleeping peacefully...and I’ll take the whole week off and spend it with her. She won’t be mad, we’ll be happy like we always are. S-She won’t leave me.”

Bakugou had an insane smile on his face with eyes of distraught on him. He clumsily made his way back to his bedroom where he flopped onto the large mattress and tried to get some sleep. He would sleep the whole day away if it meant you’d still be by his side when he woke up. The ring you abandoned was held tight in the palm of his hand as he held it close to his chest. His sobs overcame him but did aid in his journey to slumber. Eventually, he knocked out and a smile of bliss adorned his face as he assumed you would still be there in the morning.....oh how wrong he was.

The very next day, he woke up at 5:30 like he always did and quickly looked to your side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He was lonely. The exact same feeling you got everytime you woke up without seeing him for the past 6 months.

6 months. You’ve been married for 4 years and together for 8. Out of those 8 years, Bakugou spent 6 months neglecting you..and now...he lost you.

He stared at the empty space and bawled his eyes out like a baby as he screamed. He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Maybe you were cooking breakfast! You weren’t. Kitchen was empty. He ran to the living room! Maybe you were just watching some TV and reading a book, looking all cute and domesticated like you usually did. No, you weren’t there either. Bakugou checked every room in the house and when he couldn’t find you..he snapped.

His heart beated at a rapid pace as he trashed the entire house. Breaking windows, flipping desks, smashing furniture. He used his quirk to create blasts and burn marks into the walls and floors of the house. He did everything to get his frustrations out. The entire time he shouted and cried as rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks.

When he was done, he sat in the middle of the destroyed living room, laying his back against the flipped couch. He sat with his knees scrunched up as he hunched over, staring at the ground. His nose and eyes and basically his entire face grew puffy and red. His hair was a mess and so was he. Silent tears continued to drop, but his throat was too dry and hurt far too much for him to make anymore noise. However, he did fight through the pain to say one final thing:

“What have I done?”

A/N: hi cubsss! So a lot of you may know that my very first post, writing piece, and short story (He’s Lost) was created around angst, a breakup, and the fact that the triggering point was Bakugou physically hurting Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it and I HATE MY WRITING IN THE FIRST POST! It was terrible! Why tf did y’all like it so much?😭 And so, I’ve created a new piece revolving around the same elements, sorta as a way to check my progress. I hope you enjoyed!

ALSO!!! If you guys like this enough, I’m willing to turn it into a small yandere short story if you Cubs are down for that. Let me know and I’ll make it happen! Love you Cubs! See you next time🧸💗

[boytouya]

𝙒𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙖 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚!

words: 1.2k

warning: profanity

request: “HELLO! <3 how r u !! could I request a mean male reader bullying back bakugou yet flirting w/ him at the same time? arson boy would be so disturbed. 😭your requests say open but PLEASE ignore this if they’re not, for my own dodge of self-embarrassment, LMFAOOO Ɛ/>”

a/n: i’m doing alright, sweetheart! i hope you’ve been doing well. this has been sitting in my inbox since april i’m so sorry!!! i hope i could do this request justice. i’m considering making it longer.. i didn’t wanna make the reader an unlikeable kind of mean so i went with something more tame, that’s why it sounds more like friends going back and forth :)

“Get your filthy paws off me!” Katsuki snarls, the link gums of his mouth exposed as he bares his teeth. If there were one word to describe him, it’d be feral. Sharp canines, an angular jawline and rough scarlet eyes that had a never ending blaze behind them. They were a deep shade of red, almost appearing brown. He was frustratingly handsome, the kind of pretty that only boys could achieve, with unnecessarily long eyelashes and beauty marks. His hair goes in all sorts of directions, each strand somehow meeting perfectly to form the most endearing row of spikes you’ve ever seen. He pushes you aside with his wrist, as if touching you with his entire hand would infect him.

His explosions were just as bright as his mind, the thought pops up when he nearly casts an explosion straight into your face. It crackles on his fingertips, illuminating an orange glow against the curves of your face. It blends almost perfectly into the apples of your cheeks and beneath your irises. He curses himself for thinking about you in so much detail, but how could he not?

“Ahh, ‘get your filthy paws off me!’” You tack on a nasally voice, obviously over exaggerated to make the boy uncomfortable. It works, seeing as he grunts and tears his gaze away. You can smell something burning, the dense scent of charcoal filling the air. “Stop projecting, and pull up your pants. You look fuckin’ stupid.” The insult comes out with a bit more venom than intended, and it clearly gets under his skin. The comment festers, aggressively at that.

“Keep mentioning being stupid and I’ll beat you till you are!” His pupils dilate, just underneath the light shining through his eyelashes. His tongue, as pink as his lips, swipes under his teeth. It feels like he’s the only other person in the room, a dark vignette blocking you from the rest of your class. Just you and Katsuki. Just you, Katsuki, and the God awful smell of whatever was burning.

“Fuck!” Bakugou yells, patting down his lap. You have to shift to see over his desk, but there’s a burning hole through his baggy pants. The mossy green lacks any sort of smooth transition into charred black. It’s not exactly small, but you wouldn’t say it’s that noticeable either. Around half the size of Katsuki’s calloused palm. He’s usually careful, he never needs to look out for these things because he has one hundred percent perfect control over his quirk. Then there’s you, pushing him off his balance beam for the first time in forever. His feet had already grown unsteady to begin with, but something about your unreasonably handsome face made him stumble.

“Do you have All Might boxers? That’s…kinda cute.” The hole is nowhere near the top end of his thigh, but you like to tease him anyway. There’s heat dwindling on his cheeks, more so than his palm. He doesn’t blush though, instead stomps his heavy foot on yours in retaliation. It could be to distract you from whatever he’s feeling rise to his throat. It definitely distracts you from what you feel in yours.

You’re always the first to check him, pull him back in from his fits of- well, passion. To others, he seemed aggressive and angry, but really, he was just passionate about what he enjoyed. Beating others. His fire was always ignited, the flame sparking the second he developed his quirk, and it only ever grew brighter. You wanted to be his candle, to be able to melt under his flame and bounce back when his wick had burned itself through and through.

“It’s too early for your shit.” Bakugou’s cheek rests against his knuckles, his elbow digging into the edge of his desk. He stares straight ahead, afraid the air would be snatched from his lungs if he makes eye contact with you for any second longer. His cheek, though squished between his hand and excess baby fat, looks incredibly kissable. When he’s not straining his face he appears much more youthful. Of course he was only a teen, the both of you were, but the facial expressions he made reminded you of an old man. The thought of Katsuki hunched over with grey hair, yelling at children brings a smile to your face. He already went to bed early, had a tight ironed schedule and woke up early. Honestly, he was already on his way.

He makes no effort to fully turn his body, let alone actually look at you. Instead, Katsuki tilts his head to the side and stares at you through his peripherals. He hadn’t thought about it till now, but the flirting was actually kind of flattering. Hearing you go on with your day without saying something Denki would fist bump you for left him feeling unsettled, like there was a tsunami in his stomach. He actually kind of liked blowing up your face after you flirt with him.

“I can feel those Granny Smith’s staring straight into my soul,” He ignores the obscure comparison of his eyes to apples, but he’d definitely think about it later. Your backhanded compliments have him tapping his foot against the floor in irritation. The rhythm is somewhat memorising, Katsuki makes a mental note to try it out on his drums in his free time. Not that he’d ever say it was inspired by you. Not in a million years. “Really lets me know where home is, thanks ‘Suki.”

“Don’t call me that, prick!” There are fireworks exploding in his stomach. The fizzle out into sparklers, zapping against his insides and bringing overwhelming thoughts straight to his head. It was an unusual feeling, trapped inside his body and only expelling through bouncing legs. At first, the flirting made him want to punch you in your prince-charming esque face, but hearing the nickname made him feel something else. Warm and floaty inside. With fifty percent humor intended, you reach over the safety of your desk to grasp his hand. In the millisecond you get to hold it, you note it’s faint dampness. A drawback of his quirk, something you’d be sure to tease him about another time. He swats your hand with a loud ‘smack!’ that bounces off the walls of the room. He doesn’t pull away completely, instead brushing his knuckles against your own. His signature nose wrinkle returns, manufactured from the exact opposite of disgust. He hates the way his heart quickens, the way he feels challenged when you speak to him, the way he craves the feeling of your hand on his for just a second longer.

But oddly enough, he loved- no, liked? He wasn’t ready for love yet.- you with every fiber of his being. His knuckles brushing against yours felt like more fiction than it actually was, his heart did somersaults against his ribs when he saw you. Hearing you insult him had always taken him aback, it made a mischievous glint in his eye return just as quick as it vanished. Then you’d laugh, a divine chime that he couldn’t quite describe with words, and say something that stopped the blood flow in his body. You truly were something else, a supernova that only vermillion eyes could see. He was thankful for that. The two of you are rather young, with questioning, impressionable minds that’ll cling to each other for support. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

taglist: @lustclubs @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @kissesdenji @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @princejasno @mel-bigia04 @mhasimp666 @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shootingstars-and-burningsuns @sleepyslvt @rintarosaku

[finnyboywolfhard]

Kiss It, Make It Better

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader 

summary: Y/N craves smoking with someone new, so who better than Steve Harrington. 

A/N: this is based solely on the ‘it’s only marijuana’ line in season three bc i am in love with stoner!Steve 

warnings: drugs <3, cursing, fluff 

word count: 2.4k 

Y/N and Dustin had the routine since Y/N got her license, that once a month they would have a sibling drive, in which they would drive around with the sole intent of getting caught up with one another. Given all the shit they had been through over the past few years, it naturally became their own special form of therapy. The Events of Starcourt on the Fourth of July and the days prior were once again weighing heavily on the two during their first drive since.

“What was it like being drugged?” Dustin asked, his curiosity weaving its way into his voice.

“Weird. It kinda felt like everything was the best thing ever, but it also came at the worst time. It was also weird that it was with Steve Harrington and Robin.”

“Is it like weed?”

“Is it like what?” Y/N knew the answer, it was no, but she had no idea why her little brother was deciding to ask her that in that exact moment.

“When you guys were drugged, I kept asking Steve if he did drugs, and he said that he only did marijuana. I wanted to know if they were comparable. So, is it like weed?”

“First off Dusty, you don’t ‘do’ marijuana, you smoke it. And secondly, I’m not answering that question, you can save that query for Steve.” Steve. Y/N had a lot of thoughts about him, it was interesting to hear about him from the rumors in high school in comparison to how she saw him act regularly. And ever since she started smoking to calm herself down, she has craved smoking with someone other than Robin, maybe Steve was worth a shot.

“Speaking of Steve, he said he might be over a lot over the next few nights while his parents are away, just so you know.”

“Oh? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, not tonight. He isn’t off work till 9 and mom doesn’t want him coming an hour before my dumbass bedtime— I still don’t get why she just NOW gave me a bedtime while you don’t even have a curfew.” Her brother started rambling, but all she could pay attention to was that he was going to be home alone tonight. Would it be that crazy of her to show up after all the trauma they had been through over the past 3 years?

“It’s because I’m legally an adult, so she’s treating me as such, and you’re just going into high school, she wants you to be safe. But okay, guess we’ll just have to see him soon.” The two drove around for a while longer before returning home. As the hours in between past, Y/N glanced towards her bookshelf, in which held a hidden stash of weed. She could always tell her mom she was just going to Robin’s, she would never try to prevent Y/N from seeing Robin.

She walked toward the bookshelf with soft footing, and with a gentle touch she plucked the hard covered book from the shelf. Inside lay two pre rolled joints she bought from her dealer and some bud Murray had snuck her after Hopper’s memorial. She snapped the book closed and tossed the book gently onto her bed. She put on a zip up hoodie and packed a fake sleepover bag. The books spine crackled gently as the cover was opened just enough for her to grab the pre-rolls out and into her pocket.

With backpack slung over her shoulders and her hands tucked securely in her pockets, Y/N strolled casually into the living room where her mother sat, as the minutes ticked quicker and quicker past 9:30–he was definitely home by now.

“Hey mom! Inhope you don’t mind but I’m gonna head over to Robin’s.”

“Oh! Did she call? I didn’t even hear the phone!”

“Oh no! She didn’t!” Y/N let in a gulp, she didn’t think this through. “She asked me a few days ago to come over tonight if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go until a little bit ago.”

“Ah, sounds like you, Do you wanna call her before you head over?” Claudia stood from her seat and began moving and motioning towards the phone.

“No!’ Y/N shrieked at her mother, who turned confusedly towards her. “Her mom goes to bed early and I told her that if I was gonna come it would be between 9 and 10, she assumes I’m coming, but I do really gotta get going.” Y/N glanced nervously at the clock, it was getting later and later and there comes a time where it’s a little uncomfortable to show up. Claudia glanced to the clock as well.

“Okay Y/N/N, you better get going.”

“Bye mom—“

“—Drive safe, be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Y/N said as she practically ran to her car. She turned her car on and began the drive towards his house, not even thinking twice about where she was going until the car came to a park in his driveway.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled at herself. She yelled at herself for being weird and for showing up unannounced. She calmed herself down by saying, “who wouldn’t want someone showing up with free weed? Don’t overthink it.” She pulled in a complete, deep breath and walked hesitantly to the door. Three knocks sounded off the door, her breath fluttering ever so slightly as she let her hand fall to her side. Footsteps could be heard from the opposite side of the door, stepping closer and closer by the second. The doorknob turned and Y/N’s attention snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy at large.

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Steve asked delightfully surprised. Her hand reached inside her pocket to pull one of the two joints. She lifted it from her pockets to where he could see it.

“Got a light?” She asked with a smirk.

After finding a lighter, the two made their way to his backyard. They sat parallel to one another in their chaise chairs. Y/N flicked the lighter a few times before sparking up the first joint of the night. She pulled a large huff in and held it as she passed the joint to Steve. He took in a long drag, holding the joint in front of him to inspect it after he hit it. A few seconds after Y/N had released her hit, Steve started coughing a bunch.

“Jesus Y/N, where the hell did you get this?” Steve said through the gasps for air.

“Good shit, huh?” Y/N joked as she inhaled another hit. The two fell into a rhythm of passing it back and forth as conversation allowed itself to flood the air.

“So what made you come here Y/N?” Steve pondered towards the girl.

“Dusty started asking me about when we were drugged, and apparently you told him you smoked weed. And, as much as I love Robin, I need someone new to smoke with, and you’re not AWFUL to hang out with.” Y/N explained, with sarcasm dripping from the last sentence.

“Wow, I feel so touched. Truly, I feel like the luckiest man alive. THE Y/N Henderson chose ME to smoke with. Best day of my life.” Steve rambled on, matching the sarcastic tone Y/N started with. The two laughed for a bit together, before Y/N spoke through the giggles.

“I am sorry for just showing up, I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“What? Am I that scary?”

“You’re THE King Steve, you’re the coolest, hottest guy at Hawkins. I was so intimidated by your male wiles. I am begging at your feet Steve Harrington.” Y/N mocked other girls she had witnessed in Hawkins. “No you’re not scary, I just couldn’t bring myself to say ‘Hey Steve, want to do some drugs with me?’ on our family phone, it didn’t feel right.” Steve let out a chuckle and a ‘fair enough’. It fell silent for a moment as the joint had its final hits taken from it.

“Why haven’t we hung out before? I mean away from all the traumatizing shit.” Steve asked slowly as he let himself sink down into the chair.

“Different friend groups before it all and then after and during it all, I didn’t and don’t want to impede on you and Dustin’s time. Plus neither of us have asked each other anyway.”

“That’s not true, I invited you to the movies that one day you stopped into scoops alone.”

“Yeah after I had already told you I was babysitting that night, you didn’t even ask to reschedule.”

“Yes I absolutely—didn’t. I didn’t.” Steve said, confidence dissipating. Y/N couldn’t help but focus to each small feature of his face one by one. Sure, she had looked at him but she never looked at him. He really was beautiful.

Jokes and stories were told between the two, laughter and exaggerated stories filled the bubble they put themselves in. In those moments, there was no one else in the world but Steve and Y/N.

“And that’s how Mike Wheeler broke his finger in our backyard.” Y/N let out through a fit of giggles. Steve clutched his stomach as he let himself fall back into the chair from the gut busting laughter Y/N had sent him into. As he got more comfortable, he glanced down at his watch. His eyes bulged at the time.

“Holy shit.” He said flustered, eyes never leaving the watch face.

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s almost 2 A.M.”

“Oh damn…” Y/N said, a dangerously fun smile finding its way to her face. Her hand reached towards the second joint in her pocket. “So this would be of no interest to you?” Steve’s squinted eyes opened just a peep. He let out a long whine.

“I think I’m too high to even move…but that looks so good.” Y/N looked between him and the joint. She noticed space for her to sit on the edge of his chair, and placed herself there. She placed the joint between her lips and gave it a light, waiting for the rolling paper burn down to the weed. From between her lips, she pulled the joint between her fingers and held it gently up to his. He took in a pull, never once releasing eye contact. With each consecutive hit, the distance between them drew closer and closer, eventually leaving their faces merely inches apart. Her fingers were so far back on the joint, they grazed his lips as he took in one of the final hits. Her fingers tingled from his touch. She glanced towards his eyes, his meeting hers already. The air around them went still and quiet. Their eyes were locked on each other, contact never wavering as their bodies moved towards one another like a magnet. His eyes stayed put on hers as his voice fell in the air.

“Give me one more.” Her hand lifted lightly and placed itself at his lips once more. The joint glowed a bright red as he inhaled the smoke. Y/N was so enraptured by his beauty, she didn’t notice the joint burning down to a nub. She watched as a cloud of smoke was blown from his lips and into the sky, before the heat had finally reached her touch.

“Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed as she dropped the roach to the ground. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, attempting to ease the burning feeling. The burn wasn’t bad, just a little redness but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Hey, let me see it.” Steve’s tone was much gentler now as he lifted her hand into his own. He raised her gently by her wrist to examine the burnt fingers. He delicately placed the burnt fingers to his lips and gave them a tiny little kiss.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He whispered, just barely audible to her ears. That’s what was so shocking about Steve, his heart was so filled with love and care. He did his best to make everyone feel protected, even if his popular guy persona overshadowed it at times.

“How are you so perfect?” Her voice came out quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her once more and without much thought, he closed the distance. The kiss was gentle and loving, but clearly stoked by passion. His lips upturned into a smile. She leaned back and traced her fingers across her lips. Just to make sure she didn’t imagine it, she pulled the boy towards her by the collar and planted one more kiss on him—and she noted that he kissed back with the same fervor.

“I have a crush on you Steve Harrington.” She said, hiding her blushing face from the boy. He turned her face towards him as he confessed,

“I’ve had a crush on you for like 3 months.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” He said, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

“Why?”

“Dustin talks about you enough, and I—uh I remembered all the times you’ve kicked ass over the past few years and it just kinda…happened. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart, badass, and beautiful as you?” He rambled our haphazardly, a blush forming across his cheeks as well.

“Steve…”

“Oh god, that was embarrassing, am I blushing? I feel like I’m blushing. fuck me.” Steve started rambling.

“Hey! It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute.” Y/N explained, but it didn’t seem to help. An idea flashed in her mind. “Oh no! You are so embarrassing, I am embarrassed. Ew, guess I

I’ll just have to close my eyes! I hope that embarrassing Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss me!” The sarcastic tone from earlier returning once more. A chuckle bubbled past Steve’s lips. He once more laid one on her, this time—a little bit more passionate than the past.

Y/N nuzzled herself into Steve’s side on the small beach chair they were on. The air sat comfortably still in that moment, the two reeling from the overwhelming emotions they had just felt. Quiet giggles pierce the air as Y/N studies her fingers.

“It worked.” She said matter of factly.

“What worked?”

“After you kissed it, I haven’t thought about it since. You made it better.” Y/N spoke melodically. Steve planted a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer in to him.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He repeated once more.