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luveline · 11 months

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Jade, after the last zombie blurb I can’t stop thinking about like, r taking care of Steve’s knee. Poor boy does so much for everyone else and probably doesn’t think to take care of himself so r just wraps it for him or something. Feel free to use this as a prompt if you’d like, no pressure!!

thank you for the prompt beautiful, I thought it was a great idea!! steve zombie au — you wrap up Steve's injured knee and get ready to move out of your makeshift camp. tw for zombie apocalypse typical violence and gore

There's a misery in the air thick as coal dust. For five days now, you, Steve, and the rest of the survivors from The College have been holed up in an apartment building within the city that surrounds The Michigan–Indiana border. At first, you'd been scared that the raiders who ruined your community would follow the tracks and find you, but a handful of scouts doubled back to find the ruins of your community completely empty. Wrecked, but uninhabited.

With no one to hide from, a new problem emerges. How are you going to feed this many mouths, support so many children who can't fend for themselves?

You have to get back on the road.

So people are packing up. You, amongst the injured, can only sit and watch, though your cuts and bruises get better everyday and this is more of a Steve-mandated bed rest than a necessary sit down. Meanwhile, Steve limps around on his hurting knee and pretends it doesn't hurt at all. You can see him across the room from you now, helping a young girl tie her borrowed shoes tightly. You'll be walking as far as you can tonight, which with little ones won't be very far, but to them will seem like miles and miles and miles.

"How's that? Not too tight?" he asks, tying her laces.

"It's okay."

"You need them nice and snug so you don't get blisters, I know it's not comfortable. You're being really brave, Debbie."

"Is my dad coming home soon?"

You're terrified for a moment that her dad is one of the people who didn't make it here with you, but luckily Steve must know who she means, and he says, "Any minute now, the river's not far. Do you want to come and sit with me and my girlfriend?"

She nods to her left, where a book rests face down. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome. We're just over there if you change your mind, okay?"

He points at you. Debbie and Steve notice you watching them, and you give them a friendly smile and wave. You know you don't look especially inviting. You have marks all over your arms, more on your legs though they're hidden by your pants, and your hair hasn't been taken care of in a week. Your wave falters, even as Steve waves back.

You pull on the jacket you've been given and pull the hood over your hair before Steve gets back to you.

Steve sits down next to you and sighs.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

"Yeah." It's not as if you have any possessions to pack. "Are you?"

"For sure," he says, dropping his face into his hands. "No, god… I'm tired, I don't wanna walk. I wish we could stay here."

"I know, I'm sorry."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and straightens up. You haven't had a whole lot to talk about with one another lately, but luckily love doesn't need a lot. Your hands meet like magnets and your fingers thread together, his palm rough as yours but pleasantly warm.

You sit like that for a while.

"Here, the boon you requested," Robin announces, dropping a little white parcel into your lap. "Did you guys need socks? Sarah said she'd swap me four whole pairs for one of my hoodies."

Robin being willing to swap one of her hoodies for socks makes you wanna cry. You smile at her.

"We don't need any socks. You need to stop trading your things away," Steve says.

"I know you'll find me another one." She looks between you both and bites her lip, hands moving up to her hair. She scratches through it. "Maybe we could stay here tonight, catch up with everyone else tomorrow," she suggests, eyeing you both thoughtfully.

"No," Steve says, kind but firm. "We're ready to go."

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna go see if Chloe needs a hand with baby Ada," Robin says. She makes a heart with her hand and pushes it down at you. You make one back.

"She doesn't even like babies," Steve says as she leaves.

"She's amazing. Okay, take your pants off handsome."

Steve blinks at you. "Excuse me?"

You hold the bandage Robin brought you between your index and middle finger. "Time to wrap you up."

"I'm not cut."

"I know, but we're gonna be walking, and your knee still hurts. The compression will help."

Steve knows you're right, even if he isn't eager to be looked after. You shake the blanket over his lap and he slides out of his pants, baring his purpled knee to you unhappily.

"The bruise is worse," you murmur, unwrapping the bandage from itself in looser circles around your hand. "But it doesn't look swollen anymore. How does it feel?"

"I was shit scared it was fucked forever, but it was just sprained. It's definitely getting better," he confesses.

"And if it was fucked?" you ask. He told you it didn't even hurt. "Were you going to pretend forever?"

"As long as a I could."

You rub your thumb over his kneecap and wince at his wincing. "Lame… This is gonna hurt, I'm sorry, but not for long."

"How d'you know it won't make it worse?"

"According to Sarah's copy of Field Medicine for Injury and Disease, it won't. I'm gonna start on top so it doesn't chafe while we walk, and I'm going to pull it really tight, so tell me if it doesn't feel right."

"Can I ask you something?" Steve says severely. "Who the fuck is Sarah?"

You wrap his knee. One round of white bandages at a time with a continued pressure, your fingers as gentle as they can be over the stain of his contusion. He doesn't make a sound the whole time, though you know it aches.

"Did Robin give you her last quarter?" you ask.

"What, the oxycontin? No, I think she gave it to Jonathan. His burn is scabbing over."

"Then you have nerves of steel." You want to call him my love, or my boy, but you're not often like that, and not in front of so many people. While nobody's watching, you lean down and kiss his knee. You're embarrassed as soon as you've done it but you can't take it back; you sit up and finish tucking in the end.

Steve takes your face into his hand unexpectedly.

He might call you honey, or baby, but he's quiet. You miss him so much and he's right here —you don't need The College if he's with you, but you'll miss your bedroom, because there he'd talk for hours about whatever he wanted. You'd give anything to be back there even for a second listening to him re-explain the plot of Fast Times, or try to convince you that cheese didn't even taste that good anyways so don't bother missing it.

But you're here, and he's gonna be fine. One day he's gonna feel like chatting his nonsense again and you'll be there to listen. Until then, you'll do your best to take care of him.

"Thanks," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

He looks so pretty. Brown eyes, the lingering purple and yellow of the shiner he suffered nearly invisible under the dark shadows beneath them. His hair is limp and a tiny bit longer than he prefers to have it, kissing his neck on both sides. He doesn't look clean, and it doesn't matter.

"You're welcome. Now put your pants back on, Steve. We have places to be soon."

He squeezes your cheek. "I don't think I can stand up."

You help him back into his pants, the both of you laughing, and shuffle on your butt so you can sit hip to hip with him, your arm curled behind the small of his back.

"Put your head on my shoulder, please," you say.

Steve complies.

You smile to yourself when he starts to talk quietly, "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I went to Switzerland? Skiing?"

"No," you murmur back. "What happened?"

"I fell on my face. So, I was seventeen, and my mom…"

—

if you’re reading this, thank you so much! I know some of you are dedicated readers of the zombie au and it warms my heart completely, it makes writing for them so so rewarding and I couldn’t be more grateful <3 if you have any requests for them let me know if you’d like to! but thank you again either way!

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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fanmoose12 · 5 months

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Hello 🤎

Dropping by your ask box to say how much I enjoy and love your works! You're so precious to the Levihan community and I can't get enough of your stories.

If you still take prompts (no pressure though if you don't or if you don't like the prompt or if you already wrote something similar), I'd like to read a story set in High School AU.

Against all odds Levi, the most popular student/amazing athlete/gorgeous boy asked Hange, the four-eyed/androgynous/nerdy/dirty/brilliant genius he barely knows to prom. The story can be either how/why he asked Hange and what were their reaction (and the other students reaction) or what happens on prom night when he picks a dolled up Hange up at their house and when they enter the ballroom together.

Thank you 🤎

Hange is nearly convinced they're hallucinating. Imagining things that aren't real, cannot be real. Projecting their own desires and confusing them with reality.

That's the only logical conclusion they come to, well - one of two only logical conclusions. The second one... Hange doesn't want to even think about it. It makes them feel uncomfortable, like all their insides are sticky and they're about to puke.

But Levi, the star of the school's football team and the most gorgeous boy Hange has ever laid their eyes upon, would never do that, would he? Despite his status and reputation, he's not like all the other popular kids from their school, those who make a hobby out of mocking Hange. Sure, he only exclusively addresses them as four-eyes, but that- appears nearly affectionate, compared to the nicknames that Hange receives from other students.

Levi may seem scary, what with all his scowling and nearly constant brooding, but, underneath it all - he's kind. At least, that's how Hange thinks of him. And they have enough proof of that - like that time, when Levi helped them carry all their books from the library or that one time, when he stepped in for them, when a couple of girls were making fun of them (sure they could have defended themself just fine, but- Levi’s deed was nothing if admirable, and- Hange was growing sick of spending most of their afternoons in the detention).

But what if all these incidents were just an accident? What if Levi is not as kind as he appears? What if their crush on him tinted their vision and turned them to reality?

What if what Levi just said to them wasn't a hallucination, nor a projection, and Hange did hear everything correctly? What if Levi saw right through them, took note of their very obvious crush on him and decided to pull a cruel joke on them?

Hange doesn't know what they'd do if that turns out to be true. They can't even figure out how they feel about it - are they ashamed, angry or just hurt?

Perhaps, for the first time in their life, Hange can't find their voice. Words escape them, all rational thoughts scattering from their mind. So they say nothing, do nothing, and just stare at Levi, hoping that he - in a true hallucination fashion - would vanish before their eyes.

But he does not.

He stares back at Hange, his eyes slightly narrowed, as though he tries to find some sort of an answer on their face. A bit passes, then two, then- when Hange is nearly ready to burst into hysterics - Levi sighs and reaches for his backpack.

He stands up from the cozy spot under a tree that Hange usually spends their lunch breaks at, and turns his head sideways with what Hange would assume was shame, if they weren't so bewildered by the whole ordeal.

"Sorry," he murmurs, so softly that Hange almost misses it. "For taking up your time, and... you know."

No. Hange does not, in fact, know. So, just as Levi turns away, they reach out to him and grab him by the end of his sleeve.

"Wait!" they exclaim, surprised at how breathless their own voice sounds. They weren't running, they hardly even moved, then why their heart beats so fast? And why does it feel like all air was sucked out of their lungs? Hange doesn't bother pondering on it, they have a far more pressing matter, because it seems - they feel - like the impossible conclusion was actually the correct one. "You really mean it?" they ask Levi. "This whole... prom thing?"

Levi gives them a look - the one they know all too well, the one that makes him look like a ferocious cat and never fails in making Hange smile. "What, you thought I was joking?"

"Well..." Hange trails off, trying very hard to stop themself from bursting into a fit of nervous laughter. They fail spectacularly at that, however, and start snickering into the palm of their hand. Levi's scowl, they note from the corner of their eyes, grows more pronounced as they do so. "I did actually think that."

Levi clicks his tongue that quite effectively diverts Hange's attention from the blush that begins to rapidly spread across his face. "Either you're an idiot, four-eyes, or you think I'm a complete jerk."

Hange decides to not dignify that with a reply - they do not consider themself to be an idiot, quite the opposite actually, but at the same time - they do feel a bit stupid for thinking so lowly of Levi.

"Well, since you mean it," they say, giving Levi their most charming smile. "And, apparently, have been rejected so many times that I'm your last chance, I guess... I can take pity on you."

"Wow," Levi deadpans. "You're generous, four-eyes. And also- wrong."

"Huh?" Hange tilts their head to the side, frowning. "How so?"

"You aren't my last chance. You-" Levi does it again - turns away, hiding his face from them. "You are my first choice."

Oh.

Hange's heart reacts funnily to a quiet confession - it misses a single beat, then starts hummering in their chest. Warmth spreads throught their body, and they absentmindedly wonder - is that the feeling of the famed butterflies they're experiencing right now?

The romance books they've skipped through out of boredom a couple of times didn't lie then. It is spectacular.

Does Levi feel the same? Is it why he asked them out? Does Hange- make him feel as giddy?

It's the only logical conclusion they come to, and so, Hange smiles - widely, joyfully.

They stand up, shorten distance between themself and Levi and put a hand onto his shoulder. They catch the baffled look on his face, before he once again tries to turn away.

Hange doesn't let him, though, not until they plant a kiss onto his cheek.

Levi makes a sound then - something between a sigh and a gasp, and with utter fascination Hange watches how desperately he tries to appear unaffected. He furrows his eyebrows, he gives them his famous dark look, but all his efforts go in vain, as his cheeks begin to rapidly gain color.

Hange's pretty sure it's the most adorable thing they've seen in their entire life.

"I'll be looking forward to our date!" they say, a bit cheekily. The most popular boy of their school has asked them out, after all. They have every right to feel a bit arrogant.

They reach out to Levi's hair, and - shocked that he hasn't pushed them away right away - grow bold enough to ruffle it.

Huh.

His hair is as soft and pleasant to the touch as Hange always imagined it to be.

Briefly, they wonder what else Levi would allow them to do - would he let them go for a hug? But they dismiss that thought immediately, it's not the time to push on the boy's boundaries, not yet.

They'll have plenty of opportunities during prom night.

So, they simply squeeze his arm this time, and move to walk past him. They don’t get far enough, before they hear a quiet, impossibly soft, “I’ll be looking forward to it too.”

And just like that - the butterflies return. And with one last glance at Levi, Hange knows - it's not the last time that they experience that feeling.

#levihan #fun fact! this was in my drafts for like..... weeks? i wanted to write a follow up but then...... i forgot...

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tjodity · 5 months

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What’s the premise for your fnaf au? :0

My fnaf au is based on the novel trilogy/what I remember from reading the first novel and the second and third graphic novels. It's a little fluid right now but I have some ideas:

-The Silver Eyes plays out in pretty much the same fashion. The main exception is that the remembrance ceremony is for Sammy Emily, and the Marionette takes the role of Golden Freddy. Charlie has spent the last decade trying to avoid her past, but with graduating high school she feels kind of aimless and like she is still being shaped by what happened so decides to come to the ceremony. Some of the friend group may be cut for the sake of having a smaller amount of stronger characters. William is still hiding out as a nightguard, and still gets killed by the springlock failure and dragged away by the animatronics after trying to take Charlie.

-The Twisted Ones/Funtimes don't actually exist, and the second book doesn't end with Charlie's death. Charlie is going to college in a nearby city, and gets called back after people who look like her keep getting murdered. They find a bunch of weird holes dug around Hurricane and the dirt around four of the Missing Children's graves. When the sun sets monstrous versions of the original four dig themselves out and essentially kidnap Charlie and drag her back to the pizzeria. They bring her to Afton, who do to the springlocks can't move the majority of his body except for his hands and jaw. He lied to the children, telling them that Charlie was the only one who could set them free, dressing them up in monstrous costumes to make them less scared in leaving the pizzeria to look for her. In reality, she was the only living person who could help him with the springlocks. Under threat of death, he forces her to pry the endoskeleton open and yank out his corpse. However, the corpse doesn't get back up, the endoskeleton properly locks together, and he gets up, fully adopting his role as the yellow rabbit. At this point, Charlie's about ready to try and kill him again, even if she risks death, as her friends are looking for her and could be killed by the animatronics. It's at this point that William chooses to reveal that Charlie's memory has been tampered with, she was born a boy, she never had a twin brother, and she's been dead for ten years. He tears off her arm, revealing plastic veins and metal bones. Afton basically parades out of the pizzeria with the animatronics and leaves Charlie completely distraught.

-The details of The Fourth Closet are a little hazier. William returns to his home and retrieves his daughter, opening Circus Baby's Pizza World, re-costuming the main four, using electric shocks and restraints to force them to comply. A significant portion of the story is dedicated to Charlie and CB's relationship. Circus Baby, who was going to be the fourth Charlie, basically had her personhood rejected after Henry gave up on the project and she was forced to do something terrible. She is loyal to Afton because he recovered her, did his best to finish her design, and did treat her as his daughter, even if he was still kind of shitty about it, and a lot of the story is first CB hunting Charlie and then them arguing. The climax would involve Charlie communicating with The Marionette, Charlie's original spirit, to reach out and grant peace to the missing children, who are now even more confused and outwardly hostile. Their souls move on, I think CB might kill Afton, the Pizza World burns down, and everyone is allowed to move on.

It's still a little jumbled as most of what's in my head is designs and individual scenes, but yeah!

here's some character sheets I made!

#fnaf #fnaf au #howdyart #tw child death #tw blood #tw kidnapping #tw death #tw suicide mention #tw knife

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subliminalbo · 1 year

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One Shot #4: The Instrument and the Maestro

Standing on the stage before thousands of raucous fans chanting her name, Amelia clenched the microphone tight to her chest. She wished that she could just live in that moment forever. Wembley was the kind of venue that musicians worked their lives to book but Amelia was only twenty-four. She exhaled. What was next? Her rags-to-riches story had captivated the world. Raised by a single mother in Brooklyn, discovered by her producer. Jack, at a community talent show. Everything else felt like a dream. Her entire career was a haze from which she could pull few distinct memories as her life moved at a thousand miles an hour. Last week she was sixteen, yesterday she was twenty.

All Amelia really knew standing on that stage was that she deserved it. Her voice had always had a way with fans. Jack called it a gift. Their partnership had made her the most profitable solo act in the business. Her albums were often criticized for a lack of risk. There were plenty of takes from Twitter critics about Amelia's early work and her potential to be more than a popstar. It was true that before her partnership with Jack, Amelia had ambitions beyond pop stardom. She wanted to write and compose her own music, but Jack knew the business and a lack of freedom was the price all successful artists had to pay. Of course the negative reviews never stopped her singles from reaching number one on the pop charts. Even when people loathed Amelia, they still couldn't stop listening.

Amelia closed her eyes as the booming synth began to drone behind her. Time was picking up again. And when she opened her mouth and began to sing and her audience disappeared into the hypnotic lyrics of her song, Amelia too began to sink into a familiar trance.

Shortly after the Wembley show, Amelia met in the park for lunch with Jack and demanded to be released from her contract. Jack, surprised and smiling, reminded her that she was at the peak of her career. "You just played Wembley, why on earth would you want anything else?"

"I know Jack," Amelia sighed. "Wembley was great, you're great. But it's not about the money or the fame anymore. I want to make my own art. Like I used to."

"Of course," Jack nodded. "And I let you write a song for Siren."

Siren was the title of Amelia's upcoming album.

"No one should let me do anything. I was fine on my own."

"You were making low quality videos on Youtube. Supporting your mom on Patreon."

"But I had integrity."

For the first time, Jack frowned. "You know I only care about what's best for you. Are you absolutely certain about this, Amelia?"

Amelia shook her head. "When I was up there that night, surrounded by a hundred thousand fans, I...couldn't breathe. It was both so happy and so sad. Because I knew that no matter what I could never top that moment. Do you know what that feels like, Jack?"

Jack offered a sympathetic nod and said, "I just make the music."

"I'm sorry, Jack," Amelia whispered. "But I can't do this anymore."

Jack nodded. Amelia dropped her half-eaten salad into its bag, collected her things, and began to walk away. She heaved a sigh, heavy with both grief and optimism.

Jack, on the other hand, remained seated at the picnic table and calmly pulled out his cellphone. He slowly flipped through his contacts until he found Amelia and dialed. He admired the young starlet as she strutted confidently away. On queue, her phone began to ring, but as she pulled it from her purse, it slipped from her hand and landed uselessly in the grass.

"What..." Amelia mumbled as she stumbled on her feet. The sound of her own music playing back to her, pulling her down, deep into the same trance she'd grown used to performing under.

The trance was Amelia's true trademark, one of the things that set her apart from the other young twentysomethings trying to make it big in the music industry. Amelia had become known for her wild performances in which she lost herself in her own music. She'd admitted in interviews that she often lost track of time during her shows, a phenomenon that even her fans shared in. Many critics credited the trance to Amelia's perfectionism and showmanship.

When Jack approached Amelia, she'd dropped to her knees in submission.

Jack had been a gifted composer his entire life, but he couldn't perform for shit. That was how he got into producing. But after an initial series of failed attempts to break into the industry, he'd taken a chance on a young girl from Brooklyn. With Jack's hypnotic tunes and Amelia's natural talent, they could truly rule the world.

The musician looked up at her producer with those innocent, empty eyes.

"Amelia," Jack sighed. "You've gotta stop doing this."

"I am sorry," she said.

"What did I say last time?" he asked.

"I am the instrument and you are the maestro."

Jack nodded. "You don't want to work without me."

"I could never work without you," Amelia echoed.

"You're powerless without me," he added.

"I am your siren."

Jack placed his warm hand on her soft chin and studied her, checking for any sign rogue disobedience. One again pleased with his work he said, "Let's get back to the studio now. Especially before some paparazzo spots us."

#mind control #controlled #hypnotized #brainwashed #series: one shots #hypnokink #hypno story

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chiefbeifongcanrailme · 1 year

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Curious your thoughts on Linzin post-canon (show, not comics)? Would they ever get back together, or have angsty we can’t be together sex? Who is pining for who? Why or why not?

Well, I do have a lot of thoughts on post-canon Linzin. It's gotta be my favorite kind of Linzin ngl. I think I've said this before where I don't quite like the idea of them getting back together without any proper redemption or catharsis, you know? I will die on the Lin-deserves-better- hill and even if that means she reunites with Tenzin or finds love elsewhere, I'll take that.

This may be a little long, so brace yourself.

In terms of the angsty "we can't be together sex", I'd see that happening very early on. Pretty much breakup sex in that very moment and nothing more. With the way Lin has the tendency of being, raging before anything else, she wouldn't be someone who'll let sex manipulate her as good as it may be. She also holds her moral standards quite highly, so I don't particularly see her having "we can't be together sex" with Tenzin anything later than when they're breaking up. She'd never be one to cheat, or even facilitate cheating, even if she was/wasn't cheated on. Tenzin, on the other hand, would have sex with Lin given the opportunity, but he'd be super guilt-ridden through it and either want to turn it into an extramarital affair (our man loves committing to the deed) or do it over and over with the promise of it being the "last time". I don't think Lin deserves that though, and like I said, with her characterization, I see it nearly impossible for her to allow herself to be seduced by Tenzin again. Although, everyone makes mistakes and has moments of weaknesses. Make of that what you will😌.

When it comes to pining, that's a simple answer. Lin doesn't pine. She rolls her eyes, walks away, and stays mad with a fat grudge. Tenzin, however, definitely pines for Lin. It's so blatant in the way he looks at her. Plus, Lin took the hard route of grieving their relationship, moving on, and building walls around herself. She processed their breakup, albeit not in a healthy fashion. Tenzin jumped straight to Pema. He didn't take the time to heal or learn or grow. He just went on to the next available thing. He'd hide from his feelings while Lin would spar with those same feelings. Pacifist versus head-on, right?

Would they get back together? That's a toughie. When I watched the show for the first time, I really thought the side story was going to be a Linzin reunion, thereby normalizing divorce lol. I also thought that not having Lin be Tenzin's wife, his kids' mother and the Chief of Police was such a wasted opportunity to display how women are multifaceted and can do literally anything they want to. Given that, and everything that conspired through the four books of the show, I'd say maybe. They certainly love each other, platonically and maybe even a little more- and that's canon. But, would Tenzin throw away his picture-perfect life for Lin? Would Lin want to return her heart to the same person who broke it? The answer's yes. Because of love. But there's more: How much have they changed as people? How much around them has changed? Is it worth discarding what they now have for something they once had? Have they grown? Couldn't the memories be enough? Can they deal with each other's flaws again? Can she trust him again? There's more baggage, kids, exes, and whatnot. What would people say? I can see them doing this only if they had some kind of assurance and validation from the other. And that would require communication. But Lin is emotionally constipated and loves bottling up her feelings, and Tenzin is too much of a pusillanimous man, buckling under the pressure of anything under the sun, even a damn feather. It'd be difficult to get them back together, but not impossible. And that's what good writing is for.

I think this should answer all your questions, anon. I'm sorry, I have no work-life balance, and getting on Tumblr to answer asks has become a faraway dream for me. But this year, I'm going to try and have a better hold on life and dedicate more time to the things I enjoy.

Thank you so much for the ask! I enjoyed answering it. Now, good luck reading my mini Linzin thesis.

#linzin #lin beifong #tenzin #chief beifong #kat needs a worklife balance #merkittty answers

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thevindicativevordan · 1 year

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Comics this week?

Superman #4 - How? How is this so good? How did Williamson go straight from Dark Crisis into writing this? Is it just because he and Waid are talking regularly per separate interviews with the two of them, because the rise in quality here is enough to give me whiplash. It's like Williamson has read my blog because he's making moves I've been begging to see get made. Tying Silver Banshee with the Phantom Zone! Giving Metropolis a personality of it's own by making it obsessed with the future and contemptuous of it's past, to the point there are ruins of old "Cities of Yesterday" underneath the current city, which perfectly connects with the Moonlight plot thread of her being the ghost that haunts it! Jimmy Olsen being relevant and useful because he's a native Metropolitan unlike Lois and Clark, so he knows the history of the city in a way they don't! Plus he's dating Banshee who isn't even in the top 5 weirdest dates he's had, but might be one of the hottest. Wasn't sure if the first arc was simply beginner's luck, but now that the quality hasn't dipped in the second arc I rate Williamson's run higher even than PKJ Action. And I still greatly enjoy Action! What a nice experience to have where both of the mainline Superman books are worth reading.

World's Finest #15 - Coming down off my high from Williamson, this remains fine. Feels like Waid is on autopilot with this arc, "Newmazo" is a terrible name. At least next issue promises more Supergirl/Robin interactions which will hopefully liven the story up.

The Brave & The Bold #1 - Got this mainly for the Superman story but the other three weren't bad. King described this Batman story as "burgers and fries", what you see is what you get. If you want a dark, gritty Batman vs. Joker story, that's what this offers. Stormwatch has great art, Jeff Spokes reminds me of Ryan Sook, but I don't love the team. Needs more proper Wildstorm characters, and seriously who the fuck cares about Peacekeeper anymore? Kill him off ASAP. Mora's story had great art of course but the plot was just an excuse for him to do cyberpunk Batman art. Finally the story I actually bought the book for was the strongest of the four which was nice. Cantwell has a good handle on Superman's voice, I was surprised to see this takes place in mainline continuity, but the real draw for me was always seeing Javier Rodriguez draw Superman. Glad to share he does not disappoint, loved the page where Clark and Lois are examining the decoder ring.

Vigil #1 - Less of a superhero book and more of a spy one, but no less enjoyable for that. Ram V said he was drawing on Wildstorm and Planetary for this book and that is seen in spades. Morally ambiguous anti-heroes whose goals aren't mainly concerned with saving people, and who don't shrink at lethal force are exactly the kind of protagonists you'd expect to see in a Wildstorm book. I like this team, they feel like a group that could be different enough from the Justice League to justify their existence, unlike quite a few other teams.

Cyborg #1 - Ok first issue. Hampton is a relative newcomer to comics and that shows in some places like the clunky dialogue from the kids. Raney's art isn't a favorite of mine, and the cover being so different from the interiors is going to turn some folks away.

Superboy #2 - Cosmoteers are assholes, not sure if Porter will be able to win me over into liking them, but it makes for funny interactions at least. Superboy resolving to TTK punch his way through an enemy fleet is the most like his 90s self he's been since he came back wearing that look.

X-Men #22 - Was on the fence about dropping this too, but Duggan bought himself a stay of execution by finally moving the ORCHIS plot forward. Makes sense that ORCHIS would move on the wider superhuman community after the mutants when you remember that ORCHIS is just a front for the machines to take over. Speaking of which, Omega Sentinel returns! Are they finally going to address that turning Moira into a villain means we now have two characters who are functionally the exact same on ORCHIS? OS and Moira are both former X-Men allies turned enemies, both have transitioned from organic to robotic bodies, both founded organizations to prevent the futures they lived through from coming to pass, etc. Hickman worked hard to make OS into Moira's opposite for the machines, yet now that the two are on the same side we've never even seen them interact! Fall of X needs to change that.

Hulk Annual - Meh main story, but the epilogue pages got me pumped to finally get my hands on PKJ Hulk in a month.

Avengers #1 - For all Aaron's efforts, this feels more like Morrison JLA than anything he came up with. Everyone is competent and contributes to the fight, the art is great, and the tease at a larger plot with Kang sounds fun. First time since Hickman that I'm planning on reading the Avengers regularly again.

Fantastic Four #7 - Another fantastic issue, this time finally featuring Doom. Hickman was my entry run into F4 and made me a sucker for "Doom's ego is so great he would rather destroy reality than lose face" stories.

#weekly reviews

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baubeautyandthegeek · 2 years

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Cause all I need is here,//All I want is here,//I'd give anything to make you see. - Seven Of Nine/Raffi Musiker

A/N: Small smutty fill for @saffi-prompts prompt: light.

The door shuts moments after they get home and Seven finds herself lost in the way Raffi eyes light up at her smile, she’s not one for smiling without reason, never has been, but Raffi… Raffi is a reason to smile, she’s always been a reason to smile. Now Seven crosses the floor, counts her steps. Three. Three steps. Raffi is close, getting closer and she knows Raffi gave her space deliberately, space she doesn’t want right now, right now she wants Raffi here and now. She pauses just long enough to flip on Raffi favourite Star lights, smiling when Raffi looks up, eyes brighter still, soft amber turning to almost a tiger’s eye shade and Seven makes her move before Raffi can ask anything, her voice is soft, lips inches from Raffi’s. “So… what was that about needing light?” Raffi’s breath hitches and Seven smirks, presses slow kisses across Raffi’s jawline then neck, smiling at the way Raffi’s breath catches again, her words aren’t needed now, she knows, so she doesn’t speak, moving to trail soft hands over Raffi’s jacket, removing it only when Raffi nods. They have always communicated like this, nods and touches and smiles. She’s never really been the one to control a session of lovemaking, but today, here and now, it feels right. Raffi’s breath hitches as she understands, her voice barely breaking the silence even as they undress each other, Seven positioning her so tenderly, so lightly, that Raffi shivers. She’s used to passion, to fire, but Seven’s light burns brighter when she’s gentle, bravely kind in a world that just keeps breaking her apart. “Someone travelled light…” “It’s easy with you.” Four words that might as well be three, the same three Seven hasn’t stopped whispering since they got home, since she, since they, survived, since Raffi taught her to breathe and just be. I love you. I love you. I love you. Raffi’s collarbones sparkle under the Star lights, made to mirror Raffi’s favourite Starsign, a Romulan one that means ‘Home’ and ‘Love’ and ‘Safety’ all at once. Seven has never been more in love than when she learnt that, finding the truth in a book Laris loans her whilst she waits for Raffi to finish with Picard, both women quiet, contemplative, content to simply be around a friend who didn’t expect words. Seven presses kisses to every sparkle, every dip and bump and curve of Raffi’s collarbones and throat. They take time, like this, Seven pressing her way lower so lightly, so sweetly, that Raffi trembles at the first kiss placed to her hip, shifting under Seven’s tender guidance to slip deeper into her, arching into touches, into love, and letting herself feel every gentle curl of Seven’s hand. This time the Borg hand, the one she used to be so afraid to use. The touch is light, so light, and Seven swallows a lump of emotion at Raffi’s whispered ‘More’, she always wants more of her, never once pushing away, always reaching, wanting, willing to accept all of her. She gives more, the lights sparkling in her eyes making them dance the multiple shades of ocean blue and green, turning icy bright blue when Raffi trembles undone under her, the love there so bright it’s almost like sunshine, lights in Seven’s eyes all over again. They stay that night, curled together, under the Star lights, Seven refusing Raffi’s attempt to return anything. “Tonight was about you, my Guiding Light.” Seven’s voice is thick with emotion and Raffi smiles softly as she curls closer, nestled tightly into Seven’s arms. “I will always guide you home, my Ranger.”

#saffi #saffi prompts #light #seven of nine #raffi musiker

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editorauthoranna · 2 years

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THE FROG KING Book Review

The Frog King

By Adam Davies

Full Disclaimer! This author was my professor in college and there are no frogs.

I’ve read this one before! However, it fits my parameters—to read/reread every book currently on my bookshelf! (So far, 4 down and 174 to go! I was given a few more books just days ago. Yay!) Also, The Frog King won the Twitter poll by a pretty wide margin.

Since I’ve read Davies’ The Frog King, here’s what I remembered about it before I began reading. Answer: almost nothing. It’s been about four years since I last read this book, and I read it pretty fast the first time on top of so much college shoved into my head that some details simply got squeegeed out. I couldn’t even remember the narrator’s name. This is why we take notes, people! Onwards!

Harry Driscoll, our main character and mental gymnast, is dead sick of his going-nowhere, underpaid job. It’s obvious from page three. Harry Driscoll also hates himself. I also hate Harry Driscoll. This is a one-way street with no U-turns in sight. Which brings me to my dilemma with The Frog King. The characters are amazingly well-written. No, seriously, I don’t just say that to make my former professor remember me fondly. Harry is so good at being the woe-is-me, head-in-the-sand, know-it-all jerk that you’ll probably spend most of the book in hopes something terrible happens to him. (Don’t worry.)

Evie is a doll in all meanings of the word. She’s a great woman character with her own problems and strengths and weaknesses, and she’s probably the only reason I didn’t toss the book a few different times. Yes, Harry Driscoll will make you that mad. He’s the worst type of jerk for a big chunk of the novel: the kind of sleazeball you pray to god you don’t have to work a shift with because a) they get nothing done except complaining about their job and believing the work is beneath them, b) think they’re god’s gift to womankind, and c) they somehow manage to make you feel bad about yourself while being ironic/sarcastic/condescending towards themselves in the “Haha, isn’t life just a peach” way. Your problems and feelings will never amount to theirs. Harry is all this and more with an unhealthy dose of alcohol and self-hatred to boot. This is a man so emotionally constipated you’ll want to lace his coffee with a strong laxative. Fun!

Okay, okay. He’s not all pig all the time—even dirtbags can have a few good qualities—but it’s frequent enough to be lethal in large quantities. Kind of like nuclear radiation. As I said before, don’t worry! Harry gets what’s coming to him. This isn’t some “jerks finish first” story, but boy, oh boy, get ready to feel patronized by a fictional character.

Harry certainly stirs the emotions, but not the right ones for the majority of the novel. Well-crafted character? A+. Likable character? Eh. Maybe a motivational template for how not to conduct yourself.

I try and keep this blog series as spoiler free as I can while also giving myself free reign to talk about the books I read, so I’ll move on to one other aspect.

Readers beware!

The Frog King is going to make you learn many new vocabulary words whether you want to or not. That’s just the way the narrator—you guessed it—Harry is. It’s how he thinks and roughly communicates. A facsimile of communication, but a point or two for trying, I guess. So accept that before reading, maybe even look forward to it, and grab a dictionary.

Now the vocabulary, while impressive, does actually take away from scenes sometimes. The writing kind of jumps back and forth from enjoyable, witty, and smooth into wording that’s meant to show character but really your eyes just trip over. It will happen. No way around it. And it does knock off some enjoyability of the book.

The writing style is actually pretty different to what I’m used to. Davies is raw and eclectic in the way that even if you are bumbling along with—or mentally throwing knives at—the narrator, you still have a good sense of location and emotional intelligence in the scene. You certainly aren’t going to be bored with his descriptions or dialogue.

Typically, The Frog King isn’t my kind of book. I like my fiction with a bit more, well, fiction. This book tackles it all in the real world: alcoholism, narcissism, infidelity, and even gaslighting to some extent. I know the subtitle says “a love story,” but take that with a gulp of sea water.

Overall thoughts on The Frog King? I think I still dislike Harry Driscoll enough to leave this book on the shelf until some other victim wanders by and hears the Jumanji drums, but I like Adam Davies enough as a writer to see what else he comes up with. Maybe next time I’ll ingest his words with a glass of wine?

~Anna

#book review #fiction #realistic fiction #the frog king #adam davies #books #writing

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udo0stories · 16 days

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– The thing that drew me to early retirement is freedom, and that’s still the best part of it. Back in 2005, the primary reason for this freedom-seeking was being able to devote my best hours to being a dad. I had a feeling my career in tech would be too demanding to sustain once the full-time job of raising children kicked in. Eighteen years later, wow, has that guess ever turned out to be right? Early retirement has proved to be the most amazing and worthwhile adventure, and it’s still just getting started. I wrote to you an amazing thirteen years ago, when Little MM was just starting kindergarten. Now, he has graduated from high school. I have been able to take advantage of a lot of new experiences, work hard and play hard when needed, and slow down when needed to overcome some true challenges and develop as a person. ow, with that chNow that the parenting phase is finally almost over, I am using some of those Freedom Chips to make a really big change: I am spending the winter in a warm, sunny place to try out a new life in Culdesac Tempe, the walkable, bikeable, car-free community you have probably heard me talk about a lot in the past.r, I’So, on December 1st, I will be loading up the Model Y with my best mountain bike and all the necessities for the incredible road trip across the mountains, along with tools and gadgets. ming Colorado winter. And my son will be joining me for the trip! Looking for updates? I have added a separate tracker page here. Heading West… We’ve booked ourselves a spacious two-bedroom apartment there for four full months. Little MM will be roughly alternating his months between Arizona and Colorado so he can still have time with both parents, while I’ll be there the whole time. A big part of the fun is that this will force me to invent a whole new life for myself, away from the easy comforts of the big community and plentiful construction sites that keep me so busy here. It will be both a big change and a significant challenge, which is exactly what all of us need on a regular basis to keep life full of meaning and joy. So, what are you going to do in Arizona? I look forward to replacing this with a real Arizona mountain biking picture I will be taking soon. The exact details are still in the works, and I’d love to hear your ideas and feedback (see the “get in touch” note below). But here’s what I’ve got so far: Meet as many new people as possible and answer the burning question we all have: what kind of people choose to move to a car-free neighborhood in the center of a super-car-based metropolis? And, of course, hang out with existing friends who live in the area. Did you know our own Coverage Critic (aka Chris Smith) already lives in Culdesac? Share some of the experiences, whether good or bad, here on MMM and on places like Twitter and Instagram so you can live vicariously through this experience. Use my newly liberated extra free time to visit their kickass on-site gym to get in extra good shape. Use more of that free time to write more blog posts and sweep some of the cobwebs off of this neglected online persona of mine. Look at the weather app on my phone periodically to cackle at the blizzards I’m missing in Colorado and celebrate my good fortune in comparison (the typical “winter” day in Tempe is typically in the mid-70s, which means sandals and palm trees and outdoor dining the whole time) Host a few meetups in Culdesac’s outdoor plazas, like we did last March Start a quirky free handyman business where I help new residents set up their IKEA furniture, move heavy stuff, and hang paintings, as a combo of meeting people, being useful, and exercising my compulsion to build stuff. Ride bikes! A lot. Explore the distant corners of the Phoenix metro area and the surrounding desert valley and mountain trails on mountain bikes, regular bikes, and the e-bike that comes included with the first 200 Culdesac apartments. And perhaps most importantly, help my almost-adult son get all sorts

of new experiences during his visits by living in a brand new city for the first time since he was born, way back in the same era as my own early retirement. One of Culdesac’s main “parking lots”, adjoining a restaurant patio My future gym (sAlright, you have caugThis is another instance where There is a reason other than simply journaling my personal life that I am going to go to the trouble of typing shit into the computer and sharing it with you.other than just journaling my own personal life, and this is another one of those cases. First of all, there are the first-layer selfish goals: I want to have the best winter ever, meet a bunch of smart new people, and I also want Culdesac to be a huge success so they will build more neighborhoods like this around the country and set an example that permanently improves the way US cities build and expand themselves in the future. Much Better than Parking Lots But even if you don’t care about all that, I also want to use this as a little statement about trying to make deliberate life changes. By throwing myself into a new community that aligns so nicely with my own values, I hope to serve as a reminder that maybe you might want to try the same thing. Or just try anything new. In a comfortable, prosperous country like ours, some of the built-in tendencies of Human nature tend to work against us, saying, “Hey – I’ve noticed we have plenty of food and reasonable shelter, and that’s good enough. So let’s just double down on Netflix, comfort foods, and occasional luxury purchases, and that will keep us safe.” Instead, I want you to set your life treadmill to just a bit of a steeper, healthier incline setting. That means questioning the status quo and doing your best to keep at least one little experiment on the go in the background. Maybe that means forcing yourself to move to a better place or taking steps towards getting a new job that gives you a better work-life balance. The biggest move I ever made was leaving family and friends and my old job behind to move to the US alone, at age 24. Looking back, I’m shocked I had the courage (and the organizational skills) to pull that off back then. I’ve become older, a bit slower, and so comfortable that it’s hard to imagine doing something so bold now. But even today, 24 years later, I thank my past self every single day for doing it. My present life is an incredibly different and better thing because of that past bit of courage. The spirit of positive experimentation might also mean starting to challenge your body more regularly, giving it harder work, and exposing it to a wider swath of temperatures and movements. Or joining new Meetup groups to expand your circle of friends and experiences. It doesn’t really matter exactly what you do, as long as you point your feet in what feels like a good direction and just start moving. Create some purposeful change, which will surely feel a bit difficult simply because change is hard. And hard things are good. Future Arizona Neighbors: I’ll see you in four weeks! Further reading: I’ve been reading books, doing life experiments, and writing about the value of strategic hardship for a while now. But the latest is a book called Dopamine Nation by a talented psychiatrist and author named Dr. Anna Lembke. To summarize, your brain creates a baseline for happiness based on the hardest thing you do and then compares everything else to that. So if you do hard things, life in general seems fantastic because of this perspective. If you eliminate all hardship, suddenly even the pleasures of life seem bland, and you live a spoiled and unmotivated life. To get in touch, send me a DM on Instagram or use the email address “newsletter” at the domain of this website. (Newsletter subscribers can also just reply to this post if you received it via email.) Interested in stopping by for your own mini-Culdesac experiment? They have a few short-term rentals available at rather reasonable rates (less than nearby hotels); check em out at book.culdesac.com

What will you do with your car? I’m bringing the car as a convenient electric moving truck to carry two people and four months of living supplies. Once I get there, I’ll find a safe place to park it offsite and live the full car-free lifestyle of Culdesac, much like I do when I’m here at home. I typically only use cars to carry really heavy stuff or for trips to other cities and states, but it’s even easier to accomplish this in Tempe with its location right on the light rail and with their onsite bike, scooter, and even car sharing lots. What about your house? My place in Colorado is currently set up as a two-bedroom house on the main floor plus an apartment with a separate entrance on the walkout lower level. When I’m at home, I use the whole thing as one home—the apartment just makes a great place to host a fairly constant stream of visiting friends. But for the winter, I’m hoping to rent out one of these spaces to a friend or trusted acquaintance who will take good care of everything, while I leave the other section free for the occasional visits I’ll be paying to this area over the winter. Aside from keeping an eye on the place, it will be a great way to practice the age-old Mustachian technique of making money while taking vacations! What Happens at the End of March? As it stands, I have no plans beyond this point. I’ll head back to Colorado for my home base, but with this being a new phase of life, I’ll be layering on new adventures. Aside from the two mountain properties that I’ve been helping to build out, I just teamed up with a friend to help him create an intentional (and somewhat experimental!) living community in Denver called Wild Life Ranch. We’ll have to cover more of that in a future article, but the basic idea is that he is converting a 13-acre former horse ranch in a relatively prime part of the Denver area into a future village of higher-end tiny houses and other dwellings. These will be arranged around nice common amenities with a big emphasis on people actually enjoying the process of living together, as opposed to just living side-by-side as we tend to do in normal neighborhoods.

#PersonalFinance #Arizona #Experiment

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subliminalbointext · 11 months

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One Shot #4: The Instrument and the Maestro

All Amelia really knew standing on that stage was that she deserved it. Her voice had always had a way with fans. Jack called it a gift. Their partnership had made her the most profitable solo act in the business. Her albums were often criticized for a lack of risk. There were plenty of takes from Twitter critics about Amelia’s early work and her potential to be more than a popstar. It was true that before her partnership with Jack, Amelia had ambitions beyond pop stardom. She wanted to write and compose her own music, but Jack knew the business and a lack of freedom was the price all successful artists had to pay. Of course the negative reviews never stopped her singles from reaching number one on the pop charts. Even when people loathed Amelia, they still couldn’t stop listening.

Shortly after the Wembley show, Amelia met in the park for lunch with Jack and demanded to be released from her contract. Jack, surprised and smiling, reminded her that she was at the peak of her career. “You just played Wembley, why on earth would you want anything else?”

“I know Jack,” Amelia sighed. “Wembley was great, you’re great. But it’s not about the money or the fame anymore. I want to make my own art. Like I used to.”

“Of course,” Jack nodded. “And I let you write a song for Siren.”

Siren was the title of Amelia’s upcoming album.

“No one should let me do anything. I was fine on my own.”

“You were making low quality videos on Youtube. Supporting your mom on Patreon.”

“But I had integrity.”

For the first time, Jack frowned. “You know I only care about what’s best for you. Are you absolutely certain about this, Amelia?”

Amelia shook her head. “When I was up there that night, surrounded by a hundred thousand fans, I…couldn’t breathe. It was both so happy and so sad. Because I knew that no matter what I could never top that moment. Do you know what that feels like, Jack?”

Jack offered a sympathetic nod and said, “I just make the music.”

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Amelia whispered. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

Jack nodded. Amelia dropped her half-eaten salad into its bag, collected her things, and began to walk away. She heaved a sigh, heavy with both grief and optimism.

“What…” Amelia mumbled as she stumbled on her feet. The sound of her own music playing back to her, pulling her down, deep into the same trance she’d grown used to performing under.

The trance was Amelia’s true trademark, one of the things that set her apart from the other young twentysomethings trying to make it big in the music industry. Amelia had become known for her wild performances in which she lost herself in her own music. She’d admitted in interviews that she often lost track of time during her shows, a phenomenon that even her fans shared in. Many critics credited the trance to Amelia’s perfectionism and showmanship.

When Jack approached Amelia, she’d dropped to her knees in submission.

Jack had been a gifted composer his entire life, but he couldn’t perform for shit. That was how he got into producing. But after an initial series of failed attempts to break into the industry, he’d taken a chance on a young girl from Brooklyn. With Jack’s hypnotic tunes and Amelia’s natural talent, they could truly rule the world.

The musician looked up at her producer with those innocent, empty eyes.

“Amelia,” Jack sighed. “You’ve gotta stop doing this.”

“I am sorry,” she said.

“What did I say last time?” he asked.

“I am the instrument and you are the maestro.”

Jack nodded. “You don’t want to work without me.”

“I could never work without you,” Amelia echoed.

“You’re powerless without me,” he added.

“I am your siren.”

Jack placed his warm hand on her soft chin and studied her, checking for any sign rogue disobedience. One again pleased with his work he said, “Let’s get back to the studio now. Especially before some paparazzo spots us.”

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bobateastay · 3 years

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dirty desks and dissertations - k.ys

kang yeosang x fem!reader

nsfw content - do not interact or read if you are under 18

cw - college!au, smut, enemies to lovers(?), rivalry, mentions of colonialism in a literary context, degradation/humiliation, dumbification, explicit consent

word count: 4.8k

a/n: this is unfortunately not proofread so please forgive any mistakes!

University was supposed to be perfect. You were lucky enough to have gotten a room to yourself, you were close enough to home that you could visit during the holidays and you'd gotten a chance to tranfer to your dream university. You’d even gotten into the literature course you’d been aiming for since high school. It would have been perfect, if it wasn’t for Kang fucking Yeosang.

The first time you met Yeosang was on your way to your literature class. You had just transferred in a few months late and he had a kind smile when he asked whether you were new on campus. You nodded and he explained in a very dissectable and neutral tone that no one came to the literature department unless they had a class there or needed somewhere quiet to sleep between classes. When you explained that you were there for classes and not to catch up on sleep, he smiled again.

“We’re not a huge class, it’ll be nice to have you,” he said before rushing off with a wave and a hurried ‘I’ll see you in class’.

You were ecstatic - Yeosang was gorgeous, well-spoken and friendly, and you had the luck of sharing your favourite class with him. A class that wasn’t huge, according to him. You’d have time to speak to him more and maybe get to know him. You kept up this dreamy version of Yeosang in your head for almost a month, until the class shifted its focus to a new book.

“Red is connected to the breaking of social structures,” Yeosang said, flipping through the pages in his book.

“But in chapter four,” you began, pausing to find the page you were referencing. “It’s used to emphasise trauma.”

You looked up to find people staring not at you but at Yeosang, who wasn’t looking anywhere other than his book, eyes moving slowly over the lines. You glanced at the professor, who gave you an encouraging nod.

“It’s repeated throughout so that it reminds you of this scene when it’s mentioned later, the same way people are reminded of trauma in real life,” you continued, smiling at Yeosang as you waited for him to look up. He was the top student in the class and you were impatient to finally have something to discuss with him. If his smile made your heart flutter, that was just an added bonus. When his silence continued to stretch out, the teacher sighed.

“That’s a great point. Why don’t we talk about the symbolism of-”

Yeosang interrupted the professor with a scoff. Finally, he looked up, his usual kind smile replaced by a barely-there sneer.

“Didn’t you read the chapter? They talk about the red flags in the communist parade, when they protest the caste system,” he explained. When you opened your mouth to speak again, his expression changed to something close to pity. “You know that repetition and colour symbolism aren’t the same, right?”

“Of course I know-”

“Then reread the chapter,” Yeosang said, turning his attention away from you. You could feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment even as the teacher scolded him briefly. You stayed quiet for the rest of the lesson, your lip pushing into a pout each time Yeosang spoke. His opinions weren’t far off from yours, so why had he pushed yours aside so stubbornly earlier? When you looked up at him, you found that he was already looking at you, one eyebrow raised and his lips forming a small frown. He didn’t look away when you made eye contact.

You were barely out of the class when Yeosang caught up to you, gripping his book so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

“Red is used for the characters associated with communism,” he said, as though he hadn’t made his point clear enough when he all but humiliated you in class. “When they have the march and the strikes, it’s always red.”

“Red is repeated in chapter four too, it can be more than one thing,” you told him, your voice a little louder now that you weren’t worried about upsetting the professor. “Do you really think that red would be repeated if it wasn’t-”

“Repetition and colour symbolism are separate in this chapter,” he replied, raising his voice just as much as you had while holding his book out in front of your face. “You don’t seriously think the carpet in chapter four overrules the rest of the book, do you?”

You pushed his hand away from your face, swallowing the butterflies you felt at the warmth of his skin against yours.

“I guess we’ll find out who’s right when we get our grades,” you taunted, giving his hand one last shove before walking away from him. You ignored when he swore under his breath, waving your hand at him half-heartedly when he shouted a childish ‘I guess we will’ after you. If the brief conversation with Yeosang had been in one of the books you were reading, you would’ve called it foreshadowing.

It was a month of bickering and petty arguments later that Yeosang dropped his essay onto your desk on top of your own paper.

“So?” he asked, raising an expectant brow. You looked over his essay, running your finger over the A+ grade and the positive feedback littered around his paragraphs in red pen. You tried and failed to suppress a small snort, handing his paper back to him and holding up your own. You laughed again when his top lip curled at the sight of your grade: an identical A+ in the top corner of the page.

“Are you happy now?” you asked, setting down your paper and turning away from him in the hopes that he would leave and move past the rivalry he’d started. Instead, Yeosang’s hand came to rest on the back of your neck, his palm warm and his nails sharp when they briefly pressed into your skin. “Yeosang, what are you-”

He leaned down closer to you, his breath hitting your ear as he spoke.

“Don’t think you’re a genius because of one fluke, hm? You might be clever enough for this grade but I haven’t heard an intelligent word come out of your mouth yet,” he murmured, nails tracing small shapes into your skin before he stood straight and offered you that same sweet smile he had when you first met him. Just like with your laughter earlier, you failed to hide how his smile made your heart skip a beat. He hummed softly, pleased with the result of his words.

“You’re not a genius either,” you muttered back. You weren’t sure whether you were irritated or relieved when he ignored you.

As if literature class couldn’t get any worse, the next week you were placed in a group with Yeosang for the next class project. You almost felt sorry for your other group partner who had to sit between the two of you as you argued back and forth over the analysis for your presentation. But only almost, because you were starting to hate the cocky tone in Yeosang’s voice more than you hated being a class disturbance.

“Don’t you guys think we could include both ideas?” Mingi mumbled between the two of you, his lips pulled into a tired frown as Yeosang pushed his book in front of you, pointing at his notes.

“Why would they use grammar to represent colonialism when they’ve already done that with the scenery?” he asked, finger running over the lines he’d highlighted. “The theme of the book is big versus small things, the author is using the grammar to emphasise that, not colonialism.”

“Grammar is a structure and the author breaks the structure to represent colonialism being broken,” you replied, pushing his book back across the desk. “It’s a book written outside of Western culture in English, so it’s making a point to the Western audience.”

“I think both ideas are good,” Mingi murmured, his voice barely audible between you and Yeosang’s bickering.

“Do you not see how stupid his analysis is?” you almost yelled, unaware of the entire class staring at the three of you as Yeosang leaned across the table, knocking your book off of the desk you were sharing.

“Why did you join this fucking class if you can’t understand-”

“Kang Yeosang!”

You both turned to face the professor, your eyes widening as he pointed at the two of you.

“Stay behind after class. Since you’re both going to act like twelve year-olds, that’s how you’ll be treated. You can spend your free time cleaning out the room.”

“No fucking way,” Yeosang muttered under his breath, shooting you a glare before focusing his sight on his book. You could hear some of the other students snickering even as Mingi let out a long sigh and picked up the discussion again, dividing the sections of the presentation so that you and Yeosang wouldn’t have to work together. If he noticed you and Yeosang trying to kill each other with dirty looks, he didn’t bother to comment on it. You’d have plenty of time for dirty looks once everybody else had left the hall. Although it wasn’t just dirty looks that Yeosang had in mind.

The door hadn’t been shut for a full minute before Yeosang was making his way over to you, standing directly in front of you so that your face was eye-level with the zipper on his jeans.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level as you looked up at him. He was quiet, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you get more flustered the longer he stood there. “Yeosang, what do you want? It’s your fucking fault that we’re here anyway.”

“Tell me your analysis again,” he said. His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out what kind of trick he was trying to pull. “I won’t interrupt you, just don’t get worked up, yeah? Speak slowly.”

You could feel your heart thudding in your chest at the tone of his voice, your voice unsteady when you cleared your throat. You couldn’t find a good place to look, your eyes darting around the room to avoid looking directly at his crotch.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t entirely sure what he meant but you nodded anyway - Yeosang was a dickhead but he wasn’t a bad person, he wouldn’t hurt you. Or at least you hoped he wouldn’t. He took a hold of your chin with warm fingers, tilting your head upward with a tight grip so that you were looking him in the eyes. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, cheeks heating up from how steady and unwavering his eyes were. “So colonialism is a structured thing, in which culture and language are replaced with a foreign one. This is comparable to grammar, especially English grammar. It’s structured, and like the English language, was forced upon the people who were taught to use it.”

True to his word, Yeosang listened without interrupting you, his thumb moving back and forth against your skin. At first the movement was barely noticeable, so subtle that you dismissed it as an accident, but as you continued speaking it became obvious that it wasn’t an accident, the pad of his thumb beginning to trace circles into your skin before it rubbed back and forth against your jawline in careful, controlled movements.

“How does the author use the grammar to represent colonialism then? Bring it back to the book, you need evidence,” he prompted, his voice harsh.

“The irregular capitalisation,” you said, sounding less and less like yourself the longer you kept eye contact with Yeosang. His thumb moved to brush over the corner of your lips as he gave you an encouraging nod. “The irregular capitalisation breaks the imposed grammar structures, the same way the characters try to break the structures imposed on them.”

“Doesn’t sound as bad when you’re not trying to act like you’re a genius,” Yeosang said, his thumb pressing over the corner of your mouth.

“You say that like you’re not constantly trying to prove that you’re better than me,” you muttered back. His expression stayed calm, and when you opened your mouth to speak again his thumb moved to press on your bottom lip.

“You tell me if you want me to stop, alright?” Yeosang said, his voice regaining its usual cocky tone. Your eyes widened in surprise, warmth gathering between your legs so quickly that you were stunned into silence. There was no way the class smartass was making you wet You gave him a small nod anyway and he wasted no time pushing his thumb into your mouth, moving it over your tongue slowly. “Okay. Now I’m going to tell you why you're wrong.”

A long whine left the back of your throat. How was he still hung up on literature talk with his crotch inches away from your face and the pad of his thumb pushing down on your tongue?

"The scenery is used to represent colonialism," he started, just as sure of himself as he always was. His thumb moved further back into your mouth, making your eyes water. "The characters force their surroundings to look a certain way by imposing foreign appearances that aren't common in their country."

His thumb left your mouth for a second before it was replaced by two of his fingers. They were longer than his thumb and he pushed them back far enough to make you gag a little, his smirk growing at the sight.

"When these foreign and difficult to maintain appearances are introduced to their surroundings, the scenery is considered beautiful despite being out of place," he said. He took a moment to pull his fingers back before pushing them deep into your mouth again. "But when they're removed, the scenery maintains none of its beauty. It's dilapidated and unkempt, even more so because of what has been left behind by the foreign objects that once made it so beautiful."

He shoved his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat and making you choke, gagging until you were drooling and coating his fingers in your saliva. A satisfied grin settled itself over his features.

"Relate it to colonialism," he said, removing his fingers from his mouth and pulling a long string of saliva with them. You choked on the saliva that had built up in your mouth, making him laugh.

"Yeosang," you pleases, pressing your thighs together in a not-so-subtle attempt at relieving some of the ache between your legs.

"What? I thought you got the same grade as me, is something wrong?" he taunted, raising an eyebrow. You looked away from him, your eyes desperately trying to find somewhere else to look before they landed on the bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. You drew in a sharp breath, the sound audible in the otherwise quiet room. Yeosang gripped your jaw again. "So?"

You tried your best to glare at him but you knew you were falling short of the hostile look you wanted to give him. His closeness and his hard-on and his warm fingertips on your cheek were making it hard to be as bitter as you wanted to. Yeosang raised his eyebrows expectantly and you tried to straighten out your thoughts.

“The foreign plants represent the foreign customs, traditions and languages brought into the country,” you explained, ignoring the feeling between your legs in favour of trying to prove yourself. You were so worked up that you didn’t think to question why you wanted to prove yourself to him in the first place. Yeosang looked pleased, thumb stroking back and forth against your cheek as he waited for you to continue. “But these customs dismantle the system that the country already had in place, so when they are removed-”

You stopped when you heard him let out a soft, content hum, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Stop,” you said, grabbing his hand as you stood to look at him. He seemed unfazed, his hand holding yours just as tightly as you were holding his. He still had that expectant look on his face, encouraging you to continue the way he usually did before he dragged your hypotheses through the mud. “You don’t seriously think I’m going to treat you like you’re hot shit because you have your dick in my face, do you?”

“No,” he said simply. “I think you’re going to treat me like I’m hot shit because you don’t know how to formulate an argument.”

“Motherfucker-”

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do. Punch him? Kick him? Leave the room and pretend it had never happened? They all seemed like appealing options but instead, you did none of those things.

Yeosang let out a little huff of air that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh when you leaned forward to press your lips against his, your movements clumsy and rough. His hold on your hand tightened and his free hand moved to rest on your hip, moving down to squeeze your ass not long after. You let out a gasp at the feeling and Yeosang took it as a chance to deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth as he pulled you forward by the belt loop of your pants. The gasp you’d let out before turned into a full-blown whine when you felt his hard-on press up against your crotch. Yeosang grinned at the sound before biting on your bottom lip for just a moment before he pulled back to look you in the eye.

“Can’t come up with any reasons as to why your analysis is better than mine?” he taunted.

“I hate you,” you muttered, shoving lightly at his chest before kissing him again, praying that maybe this time the kiss would shut him up for good. No such luck.

“Come on baby, if you’re so sure that yours is better, why don’t you tell it to me?” he teased, lips against yours as he spoke. You pushed your hips forward into his, almost giggling when he let out a low groan at the feeling. When you repeated the movement, he let go of your hand to press between your legs instead, forcing a quiet groan out of you. Your hips pushed forward again, chasing both friction and the sound of his groans. “You wanna shut me up with your pussy, is that it?”

You nodded. You hated the way he’d phrased it but you were desperate to get him to stop talking about your literature assignments. You were even more desperate for more than just his hand rubbing you through the fabric of your pants but he didn’t need to know that.

“Yes, just please shut up,” you told him, cursing under your breath when a particularly well-angled push of his hips put pressure on your clit. “Shut up and fuck me.”

This time there was no cocky remark, just the sudden feeling of Yeosang’s hands holding your waist as he bent you over the desk you’d been sitting at not long ago, landing a sharp slap on your ass the second your chest hit the desk.

“You know, I’ve never had another student use sex as a get-out-of-jail-free card when I tell them that they’re wrong,” he said, voice as nonchalant and mocking as ever. You opened your mouth to come up with a response but another slap to your ass cut you off, all words replaced by a yelp. Behind you, Yeosang laughed softly before he made quick work of pulling down both your pants and underwear. The noise he made when he saw your cunt wet from all of his teasing only made you more desperate, your hole clenching around nothing. “Cute.”

“Yeosang, hurry up,” you pleaded, arching your back in an attempt to get him closer. He was silent for a moment before you heard a wet ‘pop’ sound, followed by two of his slick fingers pushing through your folds. You shut your eyes, tensing when he made a point to rub them against your clit. “Fucking hell, since when are you this patient?”

Yeosang laughed, continuing his slow movements before suddenly pushing a finger into you, groaning when he’d pushed it all the way in.

“Since when are you this impatient?” he asked back. Before you could answer, he pulled his finger out halfway and added another, his movements suddenly much rougher than before. You let out a choked moan at the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you, hating and loving the quiet noises he was letting out behind you. “Don’t tell me all it takes to get you this worked up is two fingers.”

“No, it’s not,” you muttered back, biting your lip to muffle some of your noise. You were still in a classroom after all. Yeosang pushed another finger into you without warning, the stretch of it pulling a long moan from your mouth. He fucked his fingers into you hard enough to make you whine, the lewd sounds coming from your wet cunt drawing another groan from Yeosang. Just when it felt like you might be getting closer to cumming, Yeosang pulled his fingers out of you, making a point of wiping them on your ass before he stood up.

You looked back to see him pulling down his underwear to reveal his dick, flushed and dripping precum. A soft whine left your throat before you realised you were making the sound. Yeosang’s eyes flicked up to meet yours as he stroked his dick, pushing the head of it through your folds.

“Condom?” he asked, voice unusually sincere. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes, rubbing himself against your clit and smirking when the action made you shudder. “Words.”

“No, it’s fine,” you told him, your words rushing together. You pushed back against him and your breath hitched at the feeling of him pressing against your entrance. “Fuck, Yeosang, please.”

He pushed into you without warning, one fluid movement until he bottomed out, both of you silent as you adjusted to the feeling.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hissing when you clenched around him at the sound. He pulled out and thrust back in hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs, giving a few more calculated thrusts before setting a brutal pace. An almost constant string of moans left your mouth as he pounded into you, his hands gripping your hips so tight that it hurt. “Tell me why I’m wrong.”

His words caught you off guard, almost knocking you out of the hazy state you were in. You made a small noise of confusion, unable to process what he meant when he was fucking into you so deep. You could feel your clit throbbing as he pounded into you, all of your concerns about literature class and shutting him up pushed to the back of your mind.

“Come on, Miss A-Plus,” he said, bringing his hand down against your ass. The moan you let out because of the stinging pain was loud enough that Yeosang shushed you, placing his hand on your throat as a silent threat to make sure you kept quiet. “Tell me about your grammar theory.”

“What?” you gasped, trying and failing to keep your voice steady. “No, I can’t- not now.”

“Not now?” he mimicked, squeezing your throat as he slowed his thrusts. “Why, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, your legs shaking as you felt yourself getting close. Yeosang noticed, letting go of your throat in favour of rubbing his fingers over your clit. You whimpered, your stomach filling with warmth as he angled each deep thrust so that he was fucking into where you were most sensitive.

“Are you really so dumb that all it takes is my cock to prove you don’t know what you’re talking about?” he asked, voice laced with mock pity. He pulled you up against him with an arm around your waist, his chest pressed against your back so that you could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. “Or are you just embarrassed to admit that you’re wrong?”

His words that usually would’ve made you angry only made you tremble in his grip, eyes squeezing shut as you tried not to let your legs buckle beneath you. He picked up the pace again, fucking into you relentlessly without giving you a chance to catch your breath, let alone answer his question.

“How did this dripping mess manage to get the same grade as me, huh?” he asked, slapping your pussy just hard enough to make you cry out, a sob getting caught in your throat as he went back to rubbing steady circles into your clit. “It’s okay baby. Don’t worry about being clever, just let your pretty pussy cum on my cock.”

Your body stiffened as you came, eyes squeezing shut as you moaned Yeosang’s name. His thrusts were slow but still hard, sending jolts of overstimulation through you as he fucked you throughout your orgasm, groaning low in your ear. You barely registered when you reached down to hold his hand on your waist, only felt his fingers lacing with yours before his thrusts came to an abrupt stop.

“Fuck,” he sighed, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he pushed himself as deep into you as possible, holding his hips still as he came inside of you. The two of you were quiet as you both caught your breath, kept company only by each other’s soft panting and feverish touch.

It was only when Yeosang pulled out and you felt some of his cum drip from your entrance that you realised what you’d done.

“Are you kidding me?” you mumbled, bending over to pull up your underwear and pants before Yeosang stopped you, his hand resting on your wrist.

“Do you want me to get tissues first? So you can clean up?” he asked. Your heart fluttered at the gentle words and you nodded, avoiding making eye contact with him as you stood awkwardly with both hands in front of your crotch. He gave you a curt nod before doing up his own pants and rushing out of the classroom.

Great. You’d just had sex with the biggest jackass you’d ever met. It also just so happened that said jackass was the reason your favourite class was a nightmare and that you were going to be stuck doing a group project with him when he’d just railed you so hard you could barely speak. A long sigh pushed itself out of your chest, coming to an end right when Yeosang opened the door to the room, locking it on his way in before hurrying over to you with a wad of paper towels.

“Here,” he said, sitting down on a desk and averting his gaze while you cleaned up the best you could. He was still avoiding looking at you when he spoke again. “You know, the grammar thing might be right.”

“What?” you asked, half in disbelief and half exasperated. He nodded.

“I mean, your analysis was good. The evidence is there and you made good connections,” he said, making eye contact with you and offering a small smile. A smile played on your lips as well, happiness surging through you now that the smartest student in your class had recognised you. Praise from him was a dozen times better than praise from your professor. “I’m not good at searching for structural connections but you’re really good at it. You did it before with the repetition too and it’s really effective.”

“Thank you,” you said, stomach filling with butterflies.

“No big deal,” he said, kicking the toe of his shoe against the toe of his shoe against the floor. “Do you think you could teach me?”

“Teach you?” you asked, almost laughing at the sudden turn of events.

“Yeah, and I could help you with visual imagery in return, since it’s where you’re lacking,” he continued. You almost snapped at him for the backhand comment but he spoke again before you had the chance. “We could do it over coffee and then we can watch a movie after? At the theatre or something on Netflix, whatever you want.”

“You mean a date?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. He smiled, standing up and stepping closer to you.

“Let’s call it a study date,” he said, leaning in close enough for you to count his eyelashes if you wanted to. You whispered a quiet ‘sure’ and he pressed a kiss to your lips, sealing the deal.

Your relationship with Yeosang ended up being much sweeter than you had anticipated. Of course, that didn’t stop him from being a dickhead when it came to literature.

☆⌒

taglist: @lovely-ateez @sunsethw4 @seonghwanotes @xirenex @choiberry @peanutpmingib @sannierio @ateezinmymind

#ateez x reader #kang yeosang x reader #ateez smut #kang yeosang smut #ateez fanfic #kang yeosang fanfic #ateez fic #kang yeosang fic #ateez imagines #kang yeosang imagines #ateez scenarios #kang yeosang scenarios #smut

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sj-ficrecs · 3 years

Text

fic rec 11!

just a random collection of what I’ve read and enjoyed lately. as usual, no specific order.

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :) See my past fic recs below:

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE! // Q & A

(divider by @bwbatta)

Bucky x reader:

Flashing Lights by @pellucid-constellations Paramedic!Bucky x reader

“Bucky’s worst fears come true when he’s called to a scene. If he’s the one with the dangerous job, then why is it your life that’s hanging in the balance?”

Operation: Freefall by @constantwriter85 Bucky x reader

“When Bucky fell from the train in 1945, he didn’t just leave behind his family and friends. He left behind the girl he was going to marry, a girl he never stopped loving. Decades later, Bucky continued to search for her, only to find out that she had disappeared without a trace in 1955. But when Steve hands over the shield to Sam Wilson, he also has something for his childhood friend—a redacted S.H.I.E.L.D. file code-named Operation: Freefall, a file with more questions than answers. With Sam’s help and a handful of Pym Particles, the file sends Bucky on a trip to the past, trying to solve the mystery and save the woman he still loves.”

Recovery by @wicked-mind Biker!Bucky x reader

“After going through rehab and recovering, you move back to town to live with your mother as you sort out what to do with your life, but your mom has other plans that include hooking you up with a hot biker by the name of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes”

Teacher’s Favorite + Sharing My Sweetheart by @suitk0via Single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine’s favorite teacher and Bucky’s just gotta meet you.”

Uninvited by @mymoonagedaydream modern!Bucky x reader

Reader is a close friend of Sam’s. Sam and Bucky are roommates, so reader spends a lot of time with them. Bucky becomes colder towards reader and they ask Sam about it - finding out Bucky, who is taken, is falling out of love w/ his gf because he has a crush on reader.

You Know Me Too Well by @nexusnyx Tattoo Artist!Bucky x reader

“there is a thin line between pain and pleasure. that line is real and palpable, except for the times when you sit in bucky barnes’ table and feel his hands holding your skin. his job demands him to hurt you, but the only problem is that you enjoy it. a lot.”

The Slip Up by @justkending dad!Bucky x reader

“After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.”

Invisible String series by @dirty-holy-things Bucky x reader

“You were fairly certain that landing a date through court-ordered therapy was some sort of HIPAA violation, if not just an ethical one, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the mysterious storm cloud of a man who you shared the waiting room with every Thursday.”

Sacrifice by @wkemeup Bucky x reader

“In the midst of an attack, you’re dosed with an unknown chemical and your healing ability becomes compromised.”

Purgatory by @wkemeup Bucky x reader

“While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.”

Behind the Storm by @wkemeup Bucky x reader

“On a mission, you’re hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.”

We Were Screaming in Color by @samwlscns Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“james buchanan barnes was your soulmate and you were his. despite everything the world threw your way, bucky always kept his promise to make his way back home to you. even if that meant having to lose him more than once.”

Bulova by @babycap Bucky x reader

“In the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel. A non-canon compliant, friends-to-lovers fic.”

And They’re Roommates by @golden-barnes Modern bartender/roommate!Bucky x reader, New Girl au

“Your boyfriend cheats on you, and now you have nowhere to go. So when you found an ad for a shared loft, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. Come to the realization that you will be sharing it with four guys. Four guys, one of them who is extremely hot and zero brain cells between any of them. What else could you ask for?”

Keep Me Cool by @chouettedubois Bucky x reader

“You and Bucky are on your third undercover mission acting as a couple. Things go awry when you fall ill. Cue caretaker!Bucky to the rescue.”

Love in the Workplace by @cxddlyash Gardener!Bucky x Receptionist!reader

Working at the same hotel, a new gardener is recently hired.

“Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the new gardener.

“What is it?” Sarah asks you and you clear your throat before tearing your gaze from the man.

“Uh, nothing. I finally see the gardener that the hotel hired,” you mention while walking closer to the place.”

Dad Biker!Bucky being adorable with his kids blurb by @angrythingstarlight dad biker!Bucky x reader

dad biker Bucky and his kids making pancakes and breakfast for mom :)

Tap by @houseravenclaws Bucky x reader

“bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.”

Teach Me How to Love by @thefalconthatcriedwolf Godfather/single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her. You happen to have Yelena in your class this school year.”

To Build a Home by @buckyjamess-archive @buckyjamess Mechanic/single dad!Bucky x single mom!reader

“a mechanic and a nurse walk into a schoolyard..both new in the single parent life, chaos arises when the two come together but they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A Good Kind of Fire by @dolcezzasfantasy Modern!Bucky x reader

“Character A runs a flower shop downtown. Character B is terribly allergic to flowers.”

If I Could Fly by @ceeellewrites actor!Bucky x actress!reader, social media au

“Bucky Barnes is an actor with a small (just a tiny) celebrity crush on Y/N L/N, one of the industry’s well-known actress. Well, it’s just a celebrity crush, what could go wrong?”

The Rumour by @sidepartskinnyjeans Bucky x reader

“after a, mostly, chance meeting with Sergeant Barnes starts a rumour around the compound that soon gets out of hand.”

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that’s it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He’s resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life…until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.”

Crawl Home to Her by @nexusnyx Bucky x reader

“when bucky finaly returns from his mission, he finds you sleeping in his sofa and the apartment much different than when he left. much prettier, with a touch of home. apparently, while he was away you took his advice to “do what you want with the place, doll” seriously - or as a distraction - and now he got to come home to this.bucky’s heart takes a leap and he stands there for a second, frozen in his spot.”

Signed by the Author by @wintersfilm Bucky x reader

“on a mission to improve his conversations with sam, bucky wanders brooklyn and into a bookstore where he finds his new favourite book and the most adorable bookseller he has ever laid eyes on.”

Seasons of Love by @constantwriter85 Army vet!Bucky x reader, modern au

“Bucky gets a service dog, but Winter’s only got eyes for the dog across the park…and her owner.”

One Single Thread of Gold (Tied Me to You) by @pietrotica Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“on your sixteenth birthday, the first words your soulmate will speak to you appear on your wrist. in a world where it’s quite common to get a simple ’hi what can i get you’ or common phrases, you’ve managed to get their name. that doesn’t make it easier to find him.”

Sunday is a Family Day by @lazyangeltreemoney Bodyguard!Bucky x rockstar!reader

“You’re stubborn, annoying and hot as hell which seems to be an awful combo to mix with Bucky Barnes. However one day he realises he got you all wrong and now there’s a little kid in the mix that needs both of your help.”

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rere-the-writer · 3 years

Text

Title- Mikaelsons and a baby

A part two to this ask

Part three

Part four - coming soon

Pairings: Poly!Mikaelson x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Soft!Mikaelsons, Just a little bit of angst, Klaus and Kol threating people

You sat with Rebekah trying to distract yourself from not worrying about Davina as lately the young witch hadn't been feeling well lately. You looked up seeing Hayley leaving with Sophie and thought nothing of it.

"Hey Beka?"

"Yes, beautiful?" Rebekah questioned looking over at you seeing that you were knitting you fourth scarf.

"Is Davina okay? Marcel was asking about her earlier." You asked Rebekah watching drop her book worry came across her face.

"Also it is probably nothing but I over heard Sophie talking to Nik about completing the Harvest." You answered Rebekah startled when she suddenly stood up.

"I need to find Elijah." Rebekah said leaving making you worry as it was never good if Elijah needed to know and decided to find Kol since you were still mad at Klaus when learned what he did to Davina.

"Kol? What are you doing?" You asked him finding him in your bedroom trying do something.

"Putting the crib together." Kol said smiling up at you as you giggled seeing that it was looking more like a hot mess than a crib.

"Babe, that doesn't look like a crib." You giggle sitting next to Kol as he placed his hand on your baby bump.

"Well right now it doesn't but it will be."

"Need any hel......" You were cut off when the room shook and Kol quickly grabbed you protecting you as things fell from the wall.

"What was that?"

"Davina. She can't control all that magic she has." Kol says walking out of the room with you following worried as you mothered the girl as Kol would tease. You followed Kol but paused seeing Hayley with Elijah and as much as you knew to follow Kol. You were curious what they were talking about.

"Elijah, I have something to tell you." You heard Hayley say as you peeked around the corner knowing Elijah most likely knew that you were there.

"What is it Hayley?"

"Sophie called asking for a favor and at first I thought it was about the baby as Sophie promised me that she would help break the curse," Hayley says as she walked ahead of Elijah as he narrowed his eyes, "that Marcel put on my people for information. I didn't think nothing of it but Davina started doing those pictures of Celeste."

"Hayley, what did you do? It have better not put Y/N and the baby in danger." Elijah said walking up to the werewolf as you swallowed a bad feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Sophie wanted to find Celeste's remains so I asked Y/N and went though your journals to find out where you buried her the told Sophie," Hayley tells Elijah sounding hurt as you felt sick and guilty as Elijah told you in confidence, "I know it was snoopy and I should have just asked you."

"Celeste wanted to be left in peace. When a witch's remains are consecrated, that power fuels the rest of their community." Elijah tells Hayley hurt lacing his voice while guilt ate away at you. Hayley looked down feeling terrible as Elijah walked up to her.

"She did not want to be found, she made me promise to make sure she couldn't. Not only did you violated my privacy but you have broken my promise to her."

"I thought they were just bones Elijah."

"If you truly believed that, why didn't you ask me where to find her instead of using Y/N and looked though my journals." Elijah said walking pass Hayley going to chase after you hearing you walking off.

"Baby, Y/N. Wait a minute." Elijah says gently grabbing your arm and cupped your cheek wiping away your tears.

"Why are you upset?"

"Because I helped Hayley break your promise. I know how much they mean to you." You tell Elijah as he smiled softly pulling you into a hug.

"You are too sweet baby. I am not mad at you for you couldn't have known her little plan."

"But still Elijah." You mumble against his chest as Elijah kissed your head when you hugged him. It wasn't hard to see Elijah was angry at Hayley as Kol and Rebekah could tell but Klaus wasn't surprised as you finally forgave him and told him everything.

"Elijah can we talk?"

"Just on my out." Elijah said holding your hand taking you with him for the day as Klaus followed teasing Elijah.

"You don't have to be here. You also didn't need to bring Y/N, it'll take Sophie some time to prepare the consecration."

"I have nothing but time and Y/N needs time out of the Abattoir. I owe Celeste this much." Elijah says watching you stand at the grave flowers in hand as you told Elijah you wanted to pay respects to the dead witch.

"Care to elaborate?" Sabine asked walking up to Elijah as he looked at her then back at you with a soft look in his eyes.

"Ever experience something so profoundly wonderful that when it was taken from you. Your life felt unbearable?"

"Yeah I've felt that. I have scars to prove it." Sabine says noticing how Elijah watched you as if you were the only woman in the world.

"I believe when you love someone like I had Celeste, they leave you uniquely vulnerable. Y/N has the power to hurt me like no other."

"You really love that woman don't you?" Sabine asked looking at you also as Elijah took out a handkerchief.

"I do." Elijah says walking up to noticing a tear rolling down your cheek wiping it away. Learning that Marcel took Davina to protect her from the Harvest left a hollowed feeling in your chest.

"You okay there?" You heard Sabine ask as you left at the Abattoir as the family went looking for Davina and Marcel.

"Yeah.....I....just...it's nothing."

"You can tell me." Sabine says sitting next to you as you sighed rubbing your bump.

"I feel bad for Elijah. I understand Hayley wants to help her people but it made Elijah break his promise to Celeste."

"You knew were she was buried."

"Yeah....I asked wanting to pay respects to the woman that got to love Elijah before me."

"You are adorably dumb."

"So Nik and Kol tells me." You tell her with a bright smile as Sabine could see what the Mikaelsons saw in you. You had a softness to you that drew people in, that made them comfortable.

"Where is Hayley?"

"Hanging out with her wolves." You answered Sabine watching her pull out a pendant of some kind.

"Wanna know the sex of the baby?" Sabine asked you watching you light up nodding.

"We found Davina." Kol says sitting next to you seeing you playing a card game with Sabine. You paused looking at Kol as that hollow feeling returned.

"Oh." You said in a quiet voice which Kol picked up something was wrong with you and made a note to ask you later about it. Rain poured as you stood next to Kol with Elijah holding an umbrella over you as you all watch Sophie complete the Harvest.

"It didn't work." Hayley whispered as the witches didn't wake up as the rain stopped. You bit your lip tears falling seeing Sophie cry over her dead niece.

"Shhh darling. It's okay." Kol muttered softly hugging you as you cried Elijah felt his heart break hearing your sons.

"Rebekah, you and Kol take Y/N home while Niklaus and I take care of this."

"Come babe. We'll get you and get some tea." Rebekah says as you nodded walking with her and Kol.

Bad juju is what your grandmother would say when ever you would get a hollow feeling. For the last few days witch bad juju was running a muck as Klaus and Rebekah was missing while Kol had to save Hayley and a wolf you learned named Jackson.

"Baby?" Elijah questioned finding you sitting in Klaus's art studio dress in one of Klaus's shirts as non of Rebekah's clothes couldn't fit you anymore.

"I miss them 'Lijah." You tell him as he sits next to you kissing your head.

"We'll find them baby." Elijah tells you as you nodded. It was weird to you hanging around Hayley as you had been noticing how she would look at Elijah. You hadn't noticed until Celeste pointed it out after you learned she was controlling your new witch friend.

"You're a lot cuter than what Hayley told me about you." You heard Jackson say making your cheeks warm up looking up at the werewolf.

"Well I could say something nice about you but Hayley barely said a word about you."

"So why are you out here with Hayley?" Jackson asked sitting next to you.

"Hayley's idea. She told Elijah that it would be safer for me until they find Nik and Beka."

"I see. What are you having?"

"A girl." You tell him with a smile as you two talked.

"You let Hayley take my unborn child and Queen out in a swamp."

"Firstly it's a bayou Niklaus and second it was to keep her safe from Celeste." Elijah tells Klaus helping Rebekah over a log while Kol was ahead with Klaus. After a long night in a graveyard airing out centuries of problems, the Originals were inching to have you near them again.

"She is going to upset that Sabine is dead." Rebekah said knowing that you grew close to the witch

"Yes, we should tell her later." Elijah says as Hayley met up with them to which Klaus and Kol noticed right away that Hayley moved next to Elijah.

"Hayley have you and the wolves been taking care of Y/N?" Klaus questioned there was a dangerous under tone to Klaus's voice. Hayley looped her arm around Elijah's nodding as Elijah raised an eyebrow but pushed it aside.

When they reached the wolf pack, they heard your sweet laugh and saw you standing in front of what looked like a work bench. Jackson stood behind you gently holding your hands showing you how to drill.

"Hayley who is that touching my wife." Rebekah asked lowly as Hayley looked at her seeing the blonde vampire glaring. Hayley looked at the other three jumping when she heard them growling also glaring.

"That's Jackson. Y/N and him has been getting close."

"You have told him who she belongs to yes?"

"I though her being pregnant was a clear enough sign." Hayley told Klaus not caring for his glare. Rebekah got your attention easily something her and the boys was always proud of.

"Beka!" You cried moving from Jackson throwing yourself into her arms as she held you. Hayley walked up with boys seeing you peppered Rebekah with kisses.

"Nik! You're okay!" You squealed happily giving the hybrid the same treatment as Jackson watched happy for you.

"Oh guys meet Jackson, Hayley's fiancee." You said smiling making the Originals blink confused while Hayley stared at you. While they weren't looking you gave Hayley a mischievous smirk knowing just what you were doing surprising the wolf.

"Fiancee?"

"Yeah. Some old wolf thing." Hayley answered Elijah waving her dismissively while you put on the most innocent look getting Elijah's attention. Both Klaus and Kol knew what you were doing while Elijah had no clue.

"Eli don't you think that maybe we can help Jackson move closer to Hayley or maybe help set up a cabin. So that Jackson isn't away from fiancee?"

Klaus and Kol was smirking as Rebekah stood next to quietly laughing behind her hand. They knew when you were jealous as you would get mischievous and since Hayley seemly liked Elijah, you were going to nip it in the bud.

"You're right baby. Hayley you should be getting to know Jackson and getting the pack together if you want them at faction meetings."

"Right.....Elijah or everything is fine just the way it is."

"But Hayley, 'Lijah right. If you want wolves in on the meetings it best you and Jackson unite the wolves." You tell her pressing closer to Elijah who smiled at you unaware of what you did.

"I'll even help little wolf." Klaus said throwing gas on the fire while Jackson smiled also unaware of what little plan you did.

"Okay." Hayley said sighing as you grinned feeling Elijah kissing your head telling Jackson that they needed to get you home.

"You little minx." Klaus teased sitting on the couch pulling you into his lap.

"I don't know what you are talking about." You tell him faking innocence as Kol joined you both laying his head on your belly listening to the baby.

"Don't worry darling it's our little secret." Kol tells you smiling kissing your belly as you just hummed relaxing enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasted.

#rere's stories #mikaelson family x reader #mikaelsons x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #the originals x reader

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chiwhorei · 3 years

Text

the folly of man

pairing: e. todoroki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.6k

tags: the softest!enji there ever was, crybabie!reader, age gap (20ish vs. 50), d/s dynamics, belly bulge, squirting, overstim, daddy kink, size kink, dacryphilia, a spank, breeding kink, creampie, i am dramatic and clinically melancholy so it’s a little angsty but it’s really just unabashed, self-indulgent fluff

a/n: i screamed about soft!enji to @messwriting a few weeks ago, then the other night enji took me to paris and wrecked my shit in my dreams. the result? complete self-indulgence. i will not be taking criticism on my desire to fuck this man, he is a drawing. (the banner image is from the lonely doll by dare wright, if you know this book we probably have very similar issues sksksksksk)

hymn: angel by finneas

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss,” ~ John Milton, Paradise Lost

He swears it’s your quirk that got him. Grabbed him by the collar, stole his soul from his chest— you swiped it right from his rib cage.

You sit across from him, legs folded under each other and pen pressing against your lips. Is it your lips? Or the way words curl past them?

A siren’s call in the form of a 20-something journalist. He hates the likes— prodding for sound bites and snippets to plaster across front pages. But your figure buckles in on itself, nerves weighing down the fabric of a light pink blouse and tight-yet-tasteful pencil skirt. Your presence is gentle and honeyed, it feels warm where Enji is usually burning hot.

Your fever spreads across his cheeks and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you need me to repeat the question?”

Your bottom lip trembles nervously, pulled in between your teeth to gnaw on. Freshly graduated and on your very first assignment, it seemed hilarious to send the newly minted recruit into a white-hot tongue lashing.

“Mr. Number One has chewed the head off of every reporter in Japan, it’s a right of passage.”

The echo of your colleague’s stifled laugh rings in your ear as you stare back, you scan over the small wrinkles by his eyes and the jagged scar across his face. The silvered skin curves around his features like atonement. There’s something about the prolific hero that seems to pull you towards him. You grab the side of your chair so as to not fall forward right into his orbit.

Any attempt at distance was doomed from the beginning.

He shakes his head, eyes darting from either of yours to find the question you asked him. He coughs awkwardly, nodding his head for you to continue. Any desire to snap at you dissolves into the carpet with the very first laugh. You let out a small, tinkling giggle against better judgement that cracks the glassed tension.

“What is your biggest inspiration?”

The question hangs in the air a moment before a rehearsed answer falls from his mouth, something about the citizens of his community and the desire to keep his country safe. Whatever tumbles out is less interesting than how you smile in response.

Every person in the room-- agents, publicists, the poor intern holding a black coffee in his trembling hands-- watch on, collectively agape, at the scene before them.

Flame Hero: Endeavor breaks composure for a moment to send you a docile, lopsided smile.

You decide it’s something you won’t soon get tired of seeing.

“Did you get everything you wanted,” his voice trails off with a hint of uncertainty, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, “I could answer a few more questions over dinner.”

Enji stands in shock at his own behavior, the inferno flickers little more than a candle in your eyeline. Every minute holds sixty seconds of opportunity, and Enji’s hair is graying at the ends. Even if you brush the dusty old hero from your shoulders with guffaw, even if you roll your eyes or kiss his insole with a pointed heel. He can’t afford to waste a moment more.

It has to be your quirk, he decides, reciting like a prayer the only logical answer to his sweating palms and clambering heart. Nothing makes sense but keeping you within arms reach. It must be some kind of hypnosis, maybe a pheromone.

Enji’s penance lies in the soft, supplied skin of a quirkless civilian.

***

There are few places that have felt like home, no matter what four walls build a house around him. He alone is responsible for each one decaying. He deserves a spot in every plane of hell.

Enji leans against the headboard, scanning over pages of John Milton and enjoying the quiet just after dusk. Looking over the top of his glasses, the book in hand falls out of frame, like most everything does.

Pink lace hangs like bated breath from your shoulders and hips. You look on to him for approval, the set your eyes had lingered on in a boutique window now brandishes the swell of your breasts.

“My perfect girl.” His words are filled with wonder, pulling at the ends of his mouth when you twirl, the ends of flowing lace pick up around you like wings.

Winter air creeps from the open balcony to hit your skin, spreading chills down every inch. Enji watches as you shiver, the cool breeze prickles past pick lace with little effort.

“Come here.” Enji tosses his glasses and book to the bedside table and pats his lap.

Nothing feels more like home than when you settle to lie atop his naked chest, cheek pressed firmly against his pulse.

You rest your chin against his sternum, hands crawling up to find warmth from his skin. He feels the thin, golden ring as your touch trails around his neck.

His own hands, calloused and battered, eclipse over your lower back to find purchase against your ass.

Away from the prying eyes of domestic paparazzi and forty minutes outside of Paris— Enji cuts out what feels like a stolen heaven.

Idle chat about the museum he took you to today fills the room comfortably. Your fingertip comes down to trace the lines of marred skin across the bridge of his nose, he hums and smiles as you talk about paintings.

None stood out to him.

He takes your hand in his much bigger one, kissing the band that mimics his own. You tangle your fingers together.

“This feels like a dream,” your voice is barely above a whisper, lest the night air hears the talk of lovers.

“I’m not totally convinced you aren’t a dream.” Enji pulls you to sit back against his legs, in this position you can meet his eyes without straining upward. Strong hands come down to rest at your hips, thumbs rubbing lightly against the lingerie’s fabric.

You scoff, batting at his chest, you laugh his comments off in moments like this. But Enji is convinced one day you will lift straight from the world with nothing left but your shoes keeping the earth weighted down.

Soft lips ghost over his, an invitation he’ll never refuse. Your mouth is against him, small hands coming to either side of Enji’s face. His graying stubble is coarse under your fingers. You inhale deeply, he smells like campfire and expensive cologne. Your tongue slips between his lips. His mouth tastes like the remnants of the bottle of red wine you shared after dinner

The hands around your middle pull your impossibly closer, pressing into your lower back to grind your hips down against the bulge in his sweatpants. Your body moves against him, panties rubbing against your already throbbing clit.

“Daddy.” The title wraps in chords around his vertebrae, the sounds of whimpering hits his ear, and he notices the wet patch rubbing right against his knee.

“What do you want, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” The maneuvering of your hips starts slow, but Enji has you almost bouncing on his leg before you can answer him. Both of your hands wrap around his left wrist, tugging it in between your legs.

“I want you to touch me, please. I- I need it.” You bite the inside of your cheek when the pads of his fingers graze the damp, thin material of your panties, his burning touch sets every blood cell aflame.

“You’re so wet, princess, what’s got you all worked up?” There’s a gleam of humor in his voice, seeing you desperate for him has Enji stiffening beneath you.

“My precious little thing, I’ll take good care of you.” His words write you a promise, it extends far past a night of love in Paris.

You can feel his assurance carved into your heart.

Enji’s hand dips into the front of your underwear, ghosting over your clit and running against your swollen lips. He marvels at your response, the smallest ministrations have your head rolling to the side.

His pointer and middle finger prod against you, inching inside carefully. Even with the utmost care, you wince at the stretch. No matter how many times he’s fucked you open in this whirlwind year,

“You’re tighter than a fucking vise, Christ.”

A long moan escapes you, knees moving to dig into the mattress below you for leverage to buck against his hand. Enji curls his fingers upwards, calloused tips finding the spongy patch of skin that has you squirming. His fingers cross over each other, pumping into you and easing you to relax against the intrusion.

“Daddy, I want your cock. I’m ready, please.” The heat in your core is rising, licking against your nerves like wildfire. Enji tutts in response to your begging, his thumb coming down to rub taught circles into your clit.

“I know, princess, but you remember the rules. Cum on my fingers, and I’ll give you what you want.” Enji picks up the pace of his fingers, his own patience thinning at the edges with each call for your daddy.

“Close, ‘m close,” your voice wobbles, aching legs pushing you against him, chasing desperately for that first release.

Enji feels you clenching tight in finality, a squeal breaching the steamy space around you. You crack in his tight hold, the taste of bliss coats your tongue-- it tastes like tears.

You slump forward against his chest, coming to float back down to earth before he sends you hurdling back towards the sun.

“You’re so beautiful, princess, absolutely perfect.” Enji’s voice is heavy, lined with a certain bitterness you are familiar with. His compliments always sound like apologies.

You lift your head, forehead pressing against his, the stray hair around your face tickling his skin.

There aren’t words that could heal decades. No amount of atonement, no prayers to any gods will fix a life of despair. He shoulders the blame of it all, heavy against bones and muscle.

Moving to kiss him tenderly, lips pulling him back into the world's sweetest direction. You shouldn’t let him use you as his redemption. If Enji were another man, a better man, he would have walked away from you that fateful afternoon under fluorescent light with just the fleeting feeling you dipped his heart in.

He’s not any kind of good in this world, Enji is a foolish bastard.

He’ll keep kissing you, he’ll touch and lick and fuck you until your wings pick up in the wind and fly you away.

“I want to ride your cock, Daddy. Let me make you feel good too.” You beg for him once again, you beg to be a distraction, the sweetest kind of diversion-- hidden snugly in the quiet of a French villa.

Enji is meticulous with stripping you of the dainty lace, brushing off the straps of your bra so the cups fall right under your pert nipples. He moves his hands slowly, snaking up your sides to swipe his thumbs against the pebbled buds. You don’t try to stop the wines falling like prayer, your body still on edge from your first orgasm.

He pulls off your soaked panties, eyes tracing the strings of slick collecting and breaking off from your glistening cunt.

“Such a precious little pussy, and it’s all mine.” Enji frees his cock from his sweats and boxers, the length springing to slap against his abdomen. He pumps his hand a few times before pressing it against your stomach. It’s no surprise that his size is impressive, long and thick in an ever-intimidating way.

Enji admires how his cock presses against you, tip nudging against your belly button. In comparison to your smaller form, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped you in half.

You’d let him.

“No more teasing, Daddy. I need it, please.” Desperation sparks against your nerves, igniting with the sharp sound of Enji’s hand against your ass.

“Don’t get mouthy now, princess.” His warning is light, he’s never been good at denying you.

He pulls your hips up, lining himself up so you can sink down onto him. If his fingers make you whimper, the first breach of his shaft makes you wail.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging in to steady yourself with every deliciously unforgiving inch. You’ll never get used to his size, you never want to.

Enji has held composure with white knuckles, but his resolve is rusting with every movement of your descent. His desire to tear into you becomes untamable, his mind swims in with the velveteen grip you suck him in with.

“You’re mine, fuck, you’re mine forever.” He will promise you until he believes it himself.

He’ll believe in forever if forever means you.

The folly of man is nestled at the apex of your thighs, is pleading gasps, is begging for more, is too much and too little.

And Enji is a fool in love.

The gates of heaven open between your quivering legs to let the devil in. He’ll take every moment he can steal.

As your hips settle down finally, the feeling of being so completely full has tears collecting in your lashes to run down your cheeks. It’s depraved, truly, how beautiful your destruction is.

Enji gives you a moment, adjusting to his size and relaxing, his hand comes down to rub against your stomach, tracing against the skin lightly.

“I can feel it,” his breath hitches, the pulsing around him is dizzying, he feels his tip as it moves inside of you, “fuck, I can feel my cock in your tummy.”

Shaky thighs start moving above him, the bounce of fat and flesh atop his hardened body. He can’t help the declarations flying from his mouth, he can’t stop the itching feeling to make you his completely.

“I want to fuck a baby into you, want to fill you so full.” He can feel the way your body reacts to his most perverse desire, “I want you round and swollen with my child.”

Enji grabs your hips, taking control and quickening the pace of his assault on your weeping pussy. You cry out, a string of babbled, “Please, daddy, please fuck me full, s-so full.”

You can feel your second orgasm bubbling up with each stroke of Enji’s cock against your abused pussy. All words are lost, all thoughts fuzzy aside from the man pounding himself into you from below.

“Cum around me, little girl, cum around my cock.” Enji’s words are little more than a growl, head thrown back into the pillows as you constrict around him. His fingers come down against your clit again, rubbing with fervor. He’s adamant on throwing you head-first, body limp and overstimulated in every way.

You feel it in the gnashing of your teeth, the wound chord snapping like floss around Enji. You feel yourself gushing, your cum leaking around him and dripping onto the bed sheets.

Enji cums with one final buck, hips lifting off of the bed as he spills into you. You can feel the thick spurts against your still pulsating walls, filling you to the brim and trickling out even before you separate.

He stays inside of you for a moment, large hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you to crumble into his chest. You collapse against his warm, jagged skin. He lulls you with soft strokes to your hair, behind the flush and sweat on your face, he sees the dizzy, love-drunk expression tugging on your lips.

No matter how many times you disagree, Enji knows it’s true.

The swelling, disorienting feeling of your smile. The visions of a future, of the life he doesn't deserve but wouldn’t give up for any deal the devil could make him. The sight of you, simply and without motive, every day.

It has to be your quirk.

#endeavor smut #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #enji todoroki x reader #enji smut

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thunderheadfred · 3 years

Text

🦅Hawks HC’s🦅

This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.

Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.

That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.

Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.

Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.

Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.

LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.

He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.

If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.

Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”

The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.

He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.

- - - - -

Dating

Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.

He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.

Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.

Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.

A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.

Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.

He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.

He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.

He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.

Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.

He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.

He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.

He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.

He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.

His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.

Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.

Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.

Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.

Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)

Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.

- - - - -

SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS

High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.

Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.

Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.

He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.

Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.

An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.

Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.

Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.

He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.

Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.

His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.

Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.

Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.

Spanky.

His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.

He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.

Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.

After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.

#hawks #takami keigo #hawks headcanons #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #gender neutral #smut #bnha #mha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #fred writes #no idea why I’m writing these #guess I’m just in a Mood

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