#i just typed these all without looking there’s a lot of typos but. you get it. you feel me. love all around

[dimepdf]

★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches. 

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed. 

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet. 

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had. 

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs. 

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me." 

Your brows creased together in confusion. 

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game. 

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp. 

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy. 

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips. 

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax. 

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you. 

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ] #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

[daisywords]

I personally know there are multiple types of editing but I've never seen anyone explain it in a way that actually made me understand what the types of editing actually were (yeah cool that you say {}editing is different from []editing but *how*). So if you wanna explain, feel free to.

Your handy-dandy guide to different types of editing

disclaimer: writers, you can literally edit however works for you. these distinction can be useful to your process, or just if you're looking to hire an editor. Not all editors make distinctions in this way; there are various ways of dividing. But no matter what vocabulary you use, it's best practice to start with broad, big-picture stuff and move towards narrower issues. Some editors do all levels of editing, while some specialize.

Developmental Editing (Is it a good story?)

Developmental editing has to do with the content. For a novel, that means working on the bones of the story. The plot. The pacing. The characters. Do their motivations make sense? Can the reader understand why things are happening? Does the story drag in places, or seem to brush past important elements? Do all of the subplots get resolved? etc. etc. (At this stage an editor is mostly going to be offering suggestions, pointing out issues, and throwing out potential solutions. Beta readers can also be very helpful at this stage to get a reader's perspective on the story beats and characters.)

Line Editing (is it well written?)

Sometimes called substantive editing, line editing is zooming in a little bit more to focus on scenes, paragraphs and sentences. Once we've decided that a scene is going to stay, lets look at the mechanics of how it plays out. Does the scene start to early or too late? Does the writing style communicate the emotions we want the reader to feel? Does the dialogue match the characters' voices? do any of the sentences sound awkward or ugly? Is the movement being bogged down by too much purple prose anywhere, or is there not enough detail? (This can get pretty subjective, so it's important that the writer and the editor are on the same page with taste, style goals, etc.)

Copy Editing (is is correct?)

Copy editing is all about the details. Think grammar and punctuation. Do the sentences make sense? are they grammatically correct? Is the dialogue punctuated correctly? Any misspellings? Should this be hyphenated? Should this be capitalized? Should we use a numeral, or write out the number? etc etc. A significant part of copy editing is matching everything to a style manual (like Chicago or AP) a house style guide (individualized preferences from a publisher, for example), and a project's own internal style sheet (are the character's names spelled the same every time? if we used "leaped" in chapter 4, we shouldn't use "leapt" in chapter 7) Copy editing is still subjective, but less so than the earlier levels, so a copyeditor will be more likely to just go in and make a bunch of (tracked!) changes without consulting the author for everything.

Bonus: Proofreading (did the copyeditor catch everything? are there typos? formatting issues? have any errors been introduced?)

Lots of people say editing when they really mean proofreading. Proofreading is the absolute last thing to get done. It's the one last pass just before something is published. It's important, but as you can see, there's a whole lot more to editing than just checking for typos.

#editing #writeblr #editing process #writing process #editors or writers who have worked with editors feel free to chime in! we are not a monolith lol this is just they way I've learned

[lil-quinnie]

Pity party

part I

Warning +18 smut, jealous Eddie

Summary college au After Eddie kissed the girl in front of you, you decide you NEED to move on.

F!boy Eddie x Plus size reader

a/n: Hi guys, sorry for the delay in posting part 2. I was very insecure about the story and this year I started working as a full time teacher so time is also very limited, anyway. Sorry for any typo or mistake, i'm brazilian god danmitt. I hope you like it <3

-

The return to your dorm was humiliating, you tried to explain everything that had happened amid sobs and inaudible words, Steve tried to support most of your weight in his arms as he guided you safely to your room. The boy tried to comfort you the whole way, even though he knew what his best friend had done would be difficult to reverse.

With the promise of a call he left the room and disappeared down the crowded halls of the girls' dormitory.

11am

you woke up to an excited call from Robin and Steve, talking about a party that was going to happen that night and how it would be the perfect opportunity for you to try to get a certain metalhead out of your head.

"so, there will be this band and I'm sure one of the members will be your type...I promise" Steve said without thinking, receiving an elbow in the ribs from his best friend "dingus" Robin said rolling her eyes "We pick you up at 8?" the girl asked hopefully.

Even though you didn't want to interact with a lot of people, you agreed that staying in bed wouldn't solve your problem. "Yeah, okay, I'll be ready at 8, bye, see you guys"

-

19pm

One last check in the mirror before hearing Steve's horn followed by Robin's loud laughter. 

You could already see the number of people in the frat garden, indicating that the party was packed. "It's harder to find him this way" you thought , at the same time Steve squeezed your leg, checking if everything was ok.

The blue lights of the crowded living room hurt your eyes, the cigarette smoke turned into fog on the floor of the house, making those lights refract 10 times stronger back at your eyes. Nancy already had a drink for you in her hand because Robin had already told her everything, welcoming you with a smile and a hug as always. 

When she let you go, the girl said just so you could hear "Eddie is looking for you”, causing you to pour the cheap liquid from the cup down your throat in one go.

-

On the other side of the house, the metalhead was negotiating his sales, even though it was a good day and he had sold almost everything he had brought, Eddie couldn't change the uncomfortable expression on his face. 

His mind always brought back the vision of you and Steve hugging, or holding hands, hell even your schedule Steve knew and he didn't, the green bug of jealousy spent all day on his shoulder, blowing fears into his ear that he had been trying to keep away for decades.

Eddie was hustling around the party, looking for potential clients and for you. He saw Robin at the party so of course you were here too.

Some people stopped him to talk, some girls offering themselves as payment (it was no longer new to him), others trying to flirt without it being so obvious, a normal night if you were Eddie Munson.

While finishing a sale he heard your laugh, causing him to turn his entire body towards the origin of the sound, "Fuck" he thought.

Your cleavage revealed the soft mounds of your breasts, making his face burn with jealousy at the thought of anyone else being able to see what should be just his. “Harrington, of course,” he huffed as he put the crumpled bills in his pocket watching Steve making you laugh. 

Eddie's eyes were shining in a purple light, never leaving your face, moving from your cleavage to your eyes and your lips, the tip of his tongue insisted on leaving his pink lip moist and shining, delicious it looked.

Eddie didn't understand what was happening, why his heart raced every time you smiled at someone else or why there was a knot in his stomach every time Steve pulled you closer, or touched your thigh while telling you a story as if you were his, but you weren't, right?

Steve excused himself from a ‘lil crown and threw himself on the old sofa next to you "hi" he said, you responded in the same tone with a shy smile, looking at each other for a while, it could be alcohol or even joints but damn! Steve was really handsome and you’re pretty sure he thinks the same about you.

Soon everybody went to fill their glasses or smoke outside, except Robin who danced with Vickie as if she didn't have early classes tomorrow, leaving you and Steve in your own bubble.

What made Eddie most angry was the fact that you seemed so comfortable with Steve, in the way he couldn't make you feel, he thought. Eddie could never make you stay close to him among a lot of people, you always found an excuse to go to the dorm or any empty place while with Steve... "fucking hell" he exclaimed, while passing the bag with the customer's product. 

Eddie needed something stronger than weed if he wanted to swallow all of his wounded ego to get to you, and he couldn't do it dry. He poured the glass full of whiskey and downed it in two sips, letting a few drops of the golden liquid run down the corner of his mouth wiping it with the back of his hand, determined not to let anything pave the way to you.

You couldn't help the smile that widened every time he got closer. The rosy cheeks showed that Eddie had been drinking, a few curls of hair coming out of his low bun and that smile of someone who wants to be confident even though they're scared... 

How could you be mad at him? how you could cut him out of your life while he gave you that half smile he only gave when he was embarrassed, which was rare for a guy like him.

When Steve's fingers intertwined with yours, Eddie decided he had had enough of that and with his double shot of whiskey, he swallowed all his pride to go talk to you.

His hands in his jacket pocket only showed how uncomfortable he was, even more so after the disaster that happened last night, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to talk to you again before the night ended. 

On the other side, you and Steve didn't notice as the metalhead approached, still lost in your own world, exchanging too many small caresses and smiles.

He could hear your voice clearly, he even swore he could already smell the moisturizer that covered your skin, so close that he could feel you under his fingerprints.

He cleared his throat trying to get the attention of the two sitting on the sofa, when he realized that he was unsuccessful, he kicked Steve's Nike, who quickly turned his head, letting a HA! to escape from his lips going together with his hands clapping in the air "Munson" he smiled sarcastically, "Harrington" Eddie raised his browns and then turned around for you "can we talk?"

"I don't know, can we?" you said, getting up from the sofa and pulling Steve with you, who protectively wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, "I have nothing to talk to you right now, Eddie", you said while broking away from Steve's hug, signaling him to lead the way away from there.

"Please, let me talk to you", but before he could hold you, you turned and snapped 

"Isn't there anyone to save you again Eddie? That's why you're coming after me?",

Steve was amused by the situation, it wasn't often that he managed to get under Eddie's skin, so he planned to enjoy it.

"Follow my lead" he said with that smirk on his face.

Steve started to dance with you innocently but noticing the other man's gaze, he decided to be bold.. He had your back pressed against his hairy chest as you danced together to the beat of the music. 

One of his hands held your hips against his crotch, while the other danced down your body side, stopping at your hip and pulling you closer against the tent that was beginning to form in the boy's tight jeans.

Eddie watched everything from the other side of the room, his eyes following every slow movement your body made, burning holes in the uncovered skin of your cleavage. 

Every time Steve pressed his body against yours, Eddie looked away and sawed his fists, causing Steve to proudly smile.

Steve's eyes were locked with eddies while his mouth timidly explored the skin of your shoulder and neck, causing goosebumps that only a metalhead had caused to this day, when he realized that you didn't stop him, he was braver, leaving love bites on the exposed skin. 

Eddie noticed when your thighs pressed together, tighter every time Steve's mouth came close to yours. 

Eddie's heart missed the beat, it felt like hours of torture having to watch you like that with someone else, with his best friend on top of that.

Even though you understood the game Steve was playing, you decided to let yourself go and enjoy the little attention you rarely received. Seeing Eddie's reaction, watching each micro expression that appeared on his face was satisfying, with his knurled eyebrows and wrinkled nose you know that he was feeling the same thing you felt when he did the same in front of you.

"I need to go to the bathroom, angel. Do you want me to fill your cup?" Steve whispered in your ear and you just nodded, letting Steve go with a smile.

This was Eddie's chance to talk to you once and for all, and he no longer had the patience to put up with you being a brat. 

He knew that you would go outside, that you would light a cigarette and that you would wait for Harrington until he arrived with another alcohol bomb, he also knew that if he didn't do anything, he would lose you forever.

The mild temperature due to the late hour of the morning itched your exposed skin, causing goosebumps while you unsuccessfully tried to light your cigarette, too frustrated with everything around you to really pay attention to your surroundings.

“Here” you heard a husky voice coming from near the pool house “let me help you”.

The man approached slowly, the darkness using her cloak to cover your lover's face, only making you realize it was him, by fate's trap, when it was too late.

“I’m good, Edward. Thank you very much” you replied,

"What the hell is all that? What the fuck did I do to make you like this, Huh?” Eddie held your arms tightly, forcing you to look at him, you saw the anxiety and confusion that showed in his eyes, which caused an immeasurable pleasure to ignite in the pit of your stomach as you pressed his buttons more and more.

"What do you think I am Eddie? Just a toy when you don't have one of those dumb girls to fuck?" you spat at him with no mercy "and what do you think you are for him right now?" he said dryly,  "More than I ever was to you, right?"  he looks… hurt.

“Are you even listening to yourself? you’re sounding delusional.” he said letting your arm go.

“Oh! Poor Munson, where's Heather? giving a blowjob to some basketball player before ending up in your bed?" you cringed at the words that should have stayed in your head, giving up on the cigarette and making your way out the conversation.

“WOW!! Who stuck a stick up your ass, cutie? Was it Stevie?” He whispered in your ear, making you pull your arm free from Eddie's grip, leaving the mark of your five fingers on the boy's rosy cheek.

“Ed… I.. I'm" 

"Shut up, just shut the heck up ok?! I'm done with you” he said harshly, making you scared and before  you could say something, apologize or anything, Eddie was pulling you inside the pool house. 

You could feel the beats of the muffled music on the cold wall that Eddie pressed your body against. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry" you pleaded, almost begging, he pinch the bridge of his nose shaking his head in disbelief “let’s talk, please” you pleaded one more time.

"Of course sweetheart, NOW you wanna talk.” he gave you some space, sitting across the room, “just tell me why you're treating me like shit and I'll leave you, forever even.”

"Eddie, you... you” you tried to explain to him but the words just went away.

“I’m what babe? tell me what I did” his voice was almost failing. 

“You kissed her in front of me" you said through sobs “she said horrible things about me…and you did nothing about it” your tears betrayed you, rolling through your pale face, Eddie could see how big the fleek was on your poor heart.

The muffled sound of the party was the only thing that echoed inside that room, that and the heavy breathing of the man who stared at you, as if he had discovered some absurd secret.

“I went after you, I screamed your name several times through those damn corridors…I know you heard me” you could feel the sad tone behind the guy's bad boy pose.

He moved closer to you, entering your space, his contorted face reflected how painful the memory was. “and I found you, oh boy i found you! In the arms of MY best friend” he returned to the opposite side of the room and continued in silence, lighting his cigarette, the orange light from the lighter flame making Eddie's teary eyes shine in the darkness of the pool room.

“Eddie…what are you talking about?” You said with your voice still shaking, not paying much attention to what was said but to your best friend's sad eyes, “YOU kissed another girl in front of me, after we had sex! you asshole.”

Eddie stood up once again this time angrily shouting back at you “I DIDN’T FUCKING KISS HER”.

His hands caged you against the wall, against his body. He looked straight into your face, with his breathing still labored he whispered “and we didn't have sex”.

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, the tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes traveled between your eyes and your lips, waiting for a minute of weakness, any sign from you so he could have you the way he'd been wanting since the night you ran away from his dorm. 

Your hands shyly touched Eddie's face, bringing the boy's attention to stillness. You held his face firmly and still so unsure “I'm sorry Eds” you said running your fingers over the welts that marked his cheek.

Eddie pressed your bodies closer and held your hand against his cheek, taking advantage of the gap to connect your lips. The kiss started lightly, Eddie enjoyed every crumb you gave him, his tongue explored your mouth hungrily, trying to feel all your flavor, his thin fingers pressed the flesh of your waist, roaming freely over your abdomen, making your legs go limp “Eddie…” you sighed.

"what?" He said, moving his lips down your neck, following the same path that Steve had taken earlier, leaving bigger marks on your skin. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and no one else’s. 

He kissed your shoulder as he ran his hand up your thigh, past the hem of your skirt.

Noticing the lack of response, it's clear that teasing you was the boy's only option. “Did the cat get your tongue, sweetie?” His hands slowly felt your hips at the same time he pushed your legs apart with his knee and forced his leg between yours. He could feel how hot your pussy was from the heat that passed through his thigh “you seemed pretty brave when you were rubbing your ass against Stevie” he pressed his knee against your most sensitive part, gently brushing against your clit.

“I already told you Eddie, Steve and I are just friends” you said again, trying your best not to straddle your best friend’s thigh.

The boy finished taking off your shirt, exploring your breasts as he had done several other times. Eddie pinched and pulled your nipples, making the man feel you wet through your panties. He laughed in a mocking tone “look at you, you barely got off my best friend and you’re already here, all wet for me” his hands forced your movements, making you slowly ride his thigh “I saw your thighs pressing together, you know?” he said, increasing the intensity of the pace at which he guided you.

“Do you like being treated like a slut?” Eddie said taking you off his lap, in one movement he turned you around, face pressed against the old window covered in graffiti, it was too blurry to see you inside but depending on the angle you could see the people outside. “Did you like the feel of Steve’s dick rubbing against your ass?” he said as he pressed his own erection against you, making sure you felt every inch of him against the soft skin of your ass. “I know you liked it baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed” he patronizes you more and more.

With the panties around your ankle, Eddie adjusted your hips the way he wanted, brushing your entire pussy with the pink head of his cock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, without any malice or malice tone, you were already drunk on cock, just nodding your consent. “Words darling, use your words” “please Eddie, I need you” his voice came out more shrill than you wanted, showing his desperation.

In just one thrust, Eddie's entire cock slowly entered your tight pussy, “fuck…so thick” you moaned, not knowing if it was pain or pleasure, receiving sweet prayers from the man who filled you “shh…I know darling, It will soon be so delicious, I promise you” or “good girl, taking it all”, his words made you increasingly wet, making his back and forth movements easier.

“Fuck Eddie, more...I need more, please” you leaned against the window frame, managing to see Steve's confused features through the graffiti window, as he looked for you around the pool, not going unnoticed by Eddie either.

The man pushed into you harder and harder, your hands holding tight on the old wood making it shake. “Hmm… fucking tight, darling” he continued to fuck you, with one hand on your waist holding you in the position he needed and the other tangled in your hair, forcing you to look out the window, to look Steve.

"Eddie please" you begged, he could feel the adrenaline making his voice lower a few tones, every time Steve's eyes passed over you, Eddie could feel your pussy throb and squeeze his dick. “Make me cum Eds, please” you almost cried.

The large hand that held your head against the window ran down your entire body to where you needed it most. He fucked your pussy, changing the angle to hit your sweet spot while slowly massaging your citrices circularly, eliciting from you the most maddening moans Eddie had ever heard... "oh... Eddie I'm going to cum, fuck I'm going to cum " "fuck that pussy, please eddie" "Fill me, I want to feel you filling me Eddie", and Steve.

With his gaze fixed on his best friend, Eddie filled your pussy with his cum, not stopping pumping until the last drop of cum entered you. He helped you straighten up, bringing your back against his covered chest.

He kissed his neck while whispering how hot you were and how you were his and only his, leaving your breasts exposed against the window. His malicious smile began to make you suspicious of the boy's true intentions.

After a few minutes of recovering, you decided to get dressed again. Her panties on one side, her t-shirt rolled up on the floor and her skirt hanging from the window.

Your fingers pulled at the fabric of your skirt, revealing a large hole in the window where Steve stared at you and Eddie, while squeezing his erection through his pants. The boy's pink cheeks didn't bring you clarity, was that shame or lust?

Eddie’s hands went around you in a hug, resting his head on your shoulder “I told you he had a crush on you,” he kissed your cheek before walking away, opening the little door to the pool house “oh! Yeah and I'm sorry, I was really jealous." leaving you high and dry watching him go after his friend.

Taglist ~ dumblittlebunbun pettydonuts kerst666 emma77645 darknesseddiem tlclick73 the-fairy-anon mygirlchaos d4rk4ng3l86 corygshitilike madi-is-kinda-lame munsongirl97 alone-but-never themusingofagothicsoul foreveranexpatsposts anaibis laricebabe she-collects-smut chronicles-of-koystee

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #college!eddie #eddie au #90s!Eddie #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson stranger things

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 2

pairing: stalker!amber x fem!reader

summary: you have only one friend, chad, but maybe you have another one, that you don’t even know about.

warnings: dark!amber, light choking, dark themes, swearing, dirty talk, use of a puppy nickname like twice, smut!!!, possibly bad grammar, if anything else, let me know!

word count: 5.3k

an: second day, yay! this one was bit harder to write, so I hope you like it! You know the drill, if there is any typo here, let me know and I’ll fix it!

an2: thank you for all the support! It means a lot!:)

(italics = your thoughts)

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

Buzz buzz.

Your phone buzzed again, you picked it up and notice that it´s your friend, Chad. You and him had few classes together and basically get along just because he was annoying you for such a long time, that you basically couldnt resist any longer. He was the charmer, extroverted football player who act like a big puppy of bernard. And you were the quiet, reserved type of a girl, who needed to charge before any social event.

Chadinator

7:11AM

Imma pick you up in 10!

You always chuckled at his nickname, since he came up with it himself. Chad was so proud of that, that it´s basically the law to leave it like that and don´t change it. I mean how could you, he would whine and maybe even shed a tear if you changed it to something so simple as his name.

It´s was pretty common for you two to walk to school together this early. Chad either had his practise or some football meeting and you liked to go to the library before the first period. Today wasn´t exepction, so after you quickly just brushed your teeth and took your bag, that you suprisingly prepared the night before, you were already waiting for him in front of your dorm. Both of you preffered to walk to school, especially when it was such a pretty weather as it´s today.

"Boo!" Chad jumps from one of the trees that were dacorating the street.

"Asshole!" You yell as your heath skipped a beat. Slapping his arm was truly an instinkt by now, being with Chad was the same as having an older brother. Flinching everytime he came close.

Chad laughs, he look refreshed even at this time. "Works every time! You gotta keep sharp, (Y/N)! You never know where the danger will came from." Chad started to pucnh the air. "Left hook, right hook and pow pow pow! And he´s down!" Chad stated as you two began to walk.

"Who´s he?" You asked looking at Chad.

"I don´t know, (Y/N). That´s for you to decide." he just shrugs and kept walking.

As soon as you came to school, you´ve said your goodbyes and both of you went separate ways. Not like you didn´t talk in school, you did. But you prefered to be alone and enjoy your time in silence. Chad was the other way around, he had a friend group, that he always told you to join, because he would appraciate someone who would shut Mindy, his twin sister, up and since youre into movies too, you would do a great job at it, at least that´s what he always says. But you´re too shy to come over and say hi to people. It gives you instant flashback to the days in middle school where youre trauma was created. That moment you had to say your name and three funfacts about yourself.

Having Chad as the only person you talk to is quite great. No drama, at least not with you two. You often gossip about people in school, but in non judgmental way, of course. He was always kind and you two basically complete eachother. A lot of people might think Chad is just another jock who cant count to three, but it’s the other way around, actaully. Without Chad you would most definetly fail math or chem. You hate these subjects will all of your hearth.

Speaking of math, you were just on your way to the library to borrow another book with mathematical quadrations. So you won´t fail your math exam next week, you wanted to do this on your own, at least try it and then the night before call Chad with panic in your voice that he needs to tutor you asap, or the world will end. As this was normal scenario before every math exam. As always, you put your headphones in and played your "study session" playlist, with soft instrumental music. You turned a corner and as you were in your head you bumped into someone, their books fell down. And you immidielty pull your headphones off, as you took them off you heard a little "shit".

You look up and notice its Amber Freeman. A girl you know from Chad´s storytimes. You quickly look her up and down, which she in fact did notice, but you didnt realized that. She was portrayed by Chad stories as someone who dont give a flying damn about anyone and anything. Her outfit was pretty suiting on her. Black on black, with some cute silver nacklace.

"Oh shoot! Sorry! I didnt notice yo.! Let me just..." you crouched down and picked up all her fallen books. She probably just visited the library herself. You notice one of the books were a mathematical quadrations. You chuckled in your mind, being little happy that you´re not the only person who was having problems with that.

"No worries." Amber smiles.

You made eye contact with her again, she doesn´t seem that unfriendly as Chad said, she look actually pretty welcoming.

"Here." You smiled at her as you give her the books.

"Thank you..." She prolong the word as a gesture of not knowing your name.

"(Y/N)!" You state awkwardly as you though she know your name from Chad stories as well. Maybe you were just wrong.

"(Y/N)? Huh, are you new?" Her question throw you off guard, completly.

"N-no, uh Im actually Chad´s friend." Trying to explain who you are was even more humaliating to you.

"Oh really? My bad. Well pleasure to meet you, I guess I see you later." She winks at you and with her many books, she left.

You stand there for a couple of second, not knowing what just happened.

Did she just wink at me? Did Chad never mention me before? Should i socialize more if people think im new? Math exam!

After you enter the library, you were trying to find another edition of the math book and of course you can´t find it. So you asked the book lady and she said that the last edition was just borrowed by one of the students today.

Amber.

You can´t go bother Chad again, not when he has practise, so either you´re gonna fail, or you´re just try to socialize. It would be easier to move to Mexico, change your name and just dissapear from the world. You sigh, looking at your phone, you still have some minutes till the first period. So your next task is to find Amber Freeman.

After walking for another ten minutes, you decided to go to second floor. You walk there and thanks to your luck, Amber is there, putting her stuff into her locker. You start to walk little faster and you awkwardly stand next to her. The dark haired girl closed the locker and look at you.

"Well I guess that later is sooner then I expect it." She chuckled.

"Yeah, I need that." Poiting to the book she was currently holding in her hand wasn’t actually the maturest idea. "I mean..." You clearn your throat. "Im really shitty at math and this is the only way i can have at least D."

"Why don´t you ask Chad?" Amber tilts her hand, looking at your face.

"Um he has a football." You shrug. "I don´t-" Before you can finish your sentence, Amber speaks up.

"Wanna bother him." She rolls her eyes. Now you were starting to understand what Chad was saying about Amber. "I bet you’re one of those little cute shy girls, huh?" Amber smirks.

"I... just think I can do this on my own." You say, but it sounded more like a question.

"Can you?" Her brown eyes are watching every single one of your facial expression.

"I don´t-"As you want to answer she cuts you off again.

"I´ll tutor you, tomorrow after school?" Amber doesn´t care she started talking over you again, she doesnt look so welcoming at all anymore. More like this whole converstaion is beyond her and she has to deal with the most annying thing.

"I- uh.. yeah! Sure. Thank you." You nod, being shocked at how fast her behaviour changed.

"Good. Anything else you want?" Amber looks away, now not even looking at you. You feel more and more humiliated around her.

"N-no, no." You shake your head and with that you just leave to your first period.

After you left, Amber smiled to herself. After long nights of thinking about the best plan ever, she´s finally doing it and everything works just how she wanted too. With just the right push you gonna fall in love with her, just how she wants you to. How you want to, but you don´t know it yet.

Of course Amber knew who you were, of course Amber knew that every morning you go to the library before your first class. And of course she knew how much you suck at math. She knows way more than just this, even way more than a normal person should know. But who said she was a normal person?

She had you as her little project over the summer, when you and Chad became close friends. Analyzing your posts on social media, zooming in to see every detail, saving every photo or video of yours, just in case your little overthinking head will decide to delete it someday. Which happened a lot, but she was always a little faster than you. Amber was the first person who liked your photo, viewed your story, see what youve been up to. She gave you subtle signs that you two are meant to be. Of course she had to make sure, not to be so obvious - so she made a couple of fake accounts, for her to actaully work on her little project better. For exaplme account "mathe_F" was made when Chad said you had first problems with math and that he can´t hang out with the group, because he has to tutor you. "emily_didi" was made right after you shared on your story that you´ve just finished a show called "Dickinson" and all of the other account were in the same vibe. Meaningful subtle messages for you and only you.

After a few classes that were nothing else but boring you were at your locker, when one of the professors addresed you. She asked you if you could give this to Amber Freeman since she saw you guys talking, it was just some small books that she was interested in. She handed you two small books and walked away.

"This is just perfect..." You mumbled to yourself as you had mixed feelings about that mysterious girl. You weren´t sure if she was nice or if she was mean. You want to figure it out, but definetly not today, since you´ve been up her ass twice today. Twice.

But it would be better to already have it done, so you walk up to the second floor and hope that Amber will be at her locker again, but she´s not. As you turn away ready to walk away and catch her later, you saw some long dark hair dissepearing into the womans batrhoom. So obviously you made your way there, you opened the door and wait for her next to the sinks.

After few minutes the door opened and you were right, it was Amber. She looked up and it was suprise even for her. She tilt her head and walk to the sinks on the right side. She made eye contact with you through the mirror and because you haven´t said a word, she just smiles

"Are you stalking me or just following me like a lost puppy?" She took few towels and wipe her hands. Then take a few steps closer, sudenly you feel how your back hit the cold wall. "I´ve asked you a question, didnt I?"

"I... I´m not stalking you, I just- Mrs. Darott asked me to bring you this. Your books from her class." You explain, but you were pretty nervous by her comment, that it sounded like a poor excuse you just made on the spot.

Amber smiles and nods, taking the books from your hands. "So if youre not a stalker, then that leads us to our second option and that´s a lost puppy. Cute." she steps closer again. "If i didn´t recognize these books I would truly think that you´ll find any excuse to be at least 2 minutes with me."

You don´t know what to say to that, you simple just stare, completly like a confused puppy. She steps closer, now fully blocking a way out, literally by her body. She press agaisnt you and who would have thought she would be that strong. Her hands are next to your head, her eyes never left yours. You can feel her breathing on you, you can feel her levander parfume, it is like youre intoxicated by her.

"You wanna go?" Amber barerly whisper to you. The truth to be told, you don´t want to go, you just want to stay, because... you don´t even know why, but you want to stay with her. But because you don´t want to look desparate you nod your head.

"Then beg." And there she is again. The harsh Amber you don´t like that much, but your body does.

"W- what?" Confussion is heard from your voice, it can be also read from your face.

"You heard me, if you want to go, you can just beg. It´s not that hard, (Y/N)." Her lips are so close to your ear, meaning her whisper are running right down your body.

You mumble something, that you don´t even understand.

"Speak up, (Y/N). I can´t hear you." she said in mocking way.

"Please, may I go?" Your eyes avoid hers, looking everywhere else than her is the smartest way to survive, whatever this is. But she has something else in her mind. Her left hand comes closer to your face and her fingers softly touch your chin. The sudden feeling on your face is making you look at her. Once again her plan working exactly how she planned. Your gaze met and you can see on her face that she is not happy at how badly you just beg. So intiitively you correct yourself.

"Please Amber, I came her to give you the books. May i go know? Please." Her looks is not satisfied. "Pretty please?" You add with the most puppy dog look, that just breaks even someone as Amber Freeman herself.

She pull away and for some confusing reason, you already miss her being so close to you.

How the hell does she do that?

"Yes, you may." She smiles and like nothing happen she fully pull away.

"T-thanks" Stuttering words were left out of your mouth as you left the restrooms.

The whole day was this feeling in your stomach every single time you thought about Amber. You try to shake it off, you don´t know what happened in the restrooms, you didn´t know if it was a good or bad feeling. Youre first thought was to tell Chad, so he can help you understand this, but it was Amber. His friend. You were alone to figure it out, like you were with the math test.

Who even is Amber Freeman?

On your way from school you took the bus, Chad had his after school practice and you didn´t feel like walking anymore. And you were also pretty interest in finding out who Amber truly is. You looked at her instagram and the number of followers she had shocked you.

Is she that popular?

You scrolled down her feed and you´ve seen some pretty selfies. Some group photos, some nice instastrories about travelling. Oh and some pretty good music and books taste, almost the same as yours. What a coincidence, right?

As you scrolled lower her account, you noticed that she used to be a horse lover. A lots of pictures when she was like 10 on a horse. Looks like she didn´t care if anyone sees this, what a confident and non insecrue person. She owns every signle photo. As you scrolled down you missclicked and you like one of her old photos on a horse, by accident.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck!

You unlike it in a second, but youre not entirely sure if it´s in time.

Fuck! She will think im really a stalker now! Fuck me!

You yell in your head as you panic on the bus. It was few stops till your dorm and you didn´t care at all if Chad has a practice or not. This is an emergency!

You

4:19PM

CHAD!

CHADDDD!

SOS!

911!

Chadilator

4:22PM

Are you okay?

What´s wrong?

(Y/N)???

You

4:22PM

IF YOU LIKE SOMEONES OLD PHOTO ON INSTAGRAM AND UNLIKE IT WILL THEY SEE IT OR NOT??

Chadilator

4:23PM

OMG WHO DID YOU LIKE PHOTO OF?!?!?!?!?!

You

4:23PM

ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Chadilator

4:23PM

PROBABBLY THEY´LL SEE IT

WHO IS IT?

You

4:24PM

NO ONE IMPORTANT THATS WHY IM FREAKING OUT.

And that was a lie. Probably the first lie that you told Chad. After few texts with Chad, he went back to doing whatever football guys do, but he promised he will bombard you with quiestions later. Great.

Amber was just going from school as a notification pooped up, (y/n/n)_ liked your photo.

She doesnt recall posting something very recently, she opens the app and chuckle as she realized what just happened. You had to dive deep, really deep. Amber smiled to herself knowing her plan is working even better, than she imagined.

...

You wake up with a jolt, your heart pounding in your chest. The sunlight break a way through your curtains, casting a warm glow on your room, but it offers no peace to your restless mind. Last night, sleep avoided you due to a dark haired girl.

The anxiety builds up within you as you remember the countless equations and formulas you struggled with. Your tutor, Amber, is a person you can´t really imagine tutor someone and don´t yell at them. But at the same time, she can be nice, sometimes. But will she be nice when you liked her old picture?

Maybe she didn´t see it. But what if she did?

As you groggily roll out of bed, your stomach is buzzing with nerves. You wonder if she´ll notice your sleep-deprived eyes, your shaky hands, your breathing. With each step towards the kitchen, you try to shake off the uneasy feeling. Maybe today will be different. Maybe you'll have a normal study session and it will be like nothing ever happened. You force yourself to eat a small breakfast, though the knot in your stomach makes it difficult to swallow.

The clock ticks relentlessly, drawing closer to the time you have to get out of your dorm and to face Chad.

Oh my god, Chad.

You´re not ready for his teasing, at least not today.

As you leave, you take a deep breath, trying to quell the nervousness that courses through your veins.

Oh what am I thinking? Today will be hell, but it’s okay, one after school session with Amber can´t hurt me, right?

As you open the door Chad is already waiting there with big smirk on his face.

"Soooo?" He skips to you. "Spill the tea!" Chad giggled like a small boy.

"Spill the tea?" You tilt your head and look at him as you two began to walk to school.

"Mindy says it a lot" Chad answers as he shrugs. "But don´t change the subject, go on and talk, (Y/N)." You have to make something up, quickly.

Shit, shit, shit. It was your friend. And we had this situation in bathroom... what it even was? I don´t know, but it was something!

You thought to yourself as you internaly panic.

"(Y/N)?" Chad nudge your arm.

"It was uh... do you remember the story about the girl at a bar? Well..." You and Chad made eye contact and his mouth falls open.

"The one you made out with?" Chad asks.

You simly just nod. And that was a second lie in less than 24 hours you told your bestfriend.

"No way!" Chad laughs.

"Yes, way." You sigh.

All the way to school Chad had many teasing remarks at you and how funny this whole situation was.

Yes, Chad. It´s absolutely hilarious.

...

You rush through the crowded hallways, your books in hand. First, it's history lecture. Then, off to sociology and lastly for the day englist literature. As the clock ticks, you barely notice the passing of time.

Suddenly, all your lectures are done for today, which means your tutoring with Amber is here. Your stomach grumbles as the nerves are back kicking in. As you get out from school, you notice Chad, Amber and the rest of the group sitting near the parking lot. You walk up to them, looking only at Chad, not wanting to make eye contact with Amber, at all. Not now yet.

"There she is! The lucky girl!" Chad announces.

"Hm?" You tilt you head not knowing what he meant.

"I was just telling them how you liked the old picture..." He laughs.

"Oh..." This was the moment you shared a look with Amber, she was already looking at you, but you didn´t see any hint of her knowing anything else, besides what Chad just said.

Maybe she really didnt saw it.

"Don´t worry, (Y/N). It happenes to the best of us." Mindy smiles.

"Yeah, (Y/N). She probably didn´t even see the notification." This time it was Amber speaking. But there was this smile again. This cruel smile of hers, which she had in the bathroom as well.

Shit. She knows.

"R-right." You nod.

After a few minutes of just hanging up, all of you went to different ways. Mindy went back into her dorm to her girlfriend. Chad went to his football practice as always, Tara went with him as a "cheer up". So it was just you and Amber. And you already know that it´s gonna be a memorable tutoring.

"So... puppy, are you ready for tutoring?" Amber asks.

"Can you not call me like that, please?" You take your backpack as a sign of ready to leave.

"I thought you like it, guess I must heard something, if im already seeing things." She shrugs and smiles at you.

"I uh- about that-" You look at her.

"About what?" She takes her own purse and the both of you start to walk towards her dorm, you don´t question it, you just follow her. Like a lost puppy.

"About- you know..." You nod towards her phone.

"Oh! Give me your phone." Again, you don´t question her and just passing your phone to Amber sounds like a good idea. You look at her nervously and after a few second, she pass you the phone back. You look at it and notice that she added her number into your phone.

"I- didn´t... thanks." Smiling was the only good idea you had right now.

"So it´ll be less weird if you like my old photo again." Amber winks.

"Shit! I- sorry. It was on accident. I just- was-" You immidietly blush and stutter your words like a kid who just been caught.

"Don´t. It´s cute. And don´t worry, we´re cool." It was again, the nice Amber, the same one as the first time you met her. "We should study, for your own good, (Y/N)." You liked this Amber a lot.

...

You sit across from Amber in her cozy dorm room, textbooks and notebooks spread out before you. The math problems on the page are challenging, but Amber's suprising patient is really making you at least try. She's been an excellent tutor, who would have thought?

As you both work through the problems, Amber's focus is strictly on you. Her dedication to helping you succeed is evident in her every word and gesture. However, as time passes, you notice a shift in her demeanor. She starts to glance at her phone more frequently, checking messages and notifications, her attention gradually drifting away from the math problems on the table, from you.

You clear your throat, trying to refocus her attention on the task at hand, but Amber's responses become distracted. She apologizes, but you can still feel her attention away from you. It seems that, for now, the math problems will remain unsolved, overshadowed by her phone.

You try to make the conversation back to math, asking questions and showing her the problems you're struggling with, but her attention keeps slipping away. You find yourself making more of an effort to capture her interest, right now you´re trying anything, hoping that she'll put her phone down and pay attention to you, like she did at the beginning of the session.

"Just so you know, I didn´t like like the picture, it was on accident. Horse girls are... scary." You mumble, being annyoed as she doesn´t even look at you.

"What did you say?" She looks up from her phone.

"You heard me, Amber." You shrug.

"Oh so that´s how you gonna be now? I don´t pay attention so you gonna attack me for my posts?" Amber chuckles. "Aren´t you the one who is obssesed with Marvel ladies? Or should I say... fanfiction?"

How the hell does she know?

"I don´t know what you´re talking about." You sit up more straight as to help you come of as confident person. Which doesn´t help at all.

"Natasha Romanoff x reader, smut, bdsm-" Amber is cut off by your hand.

"Shut up." After a second you´ve just realized what did you do. "Sorry." You pull your hand away as your face is now red as a tomato.

"So I was right." Amber has this cheeky smile on her face. The one you´d like to kiss away from her face.

Kiss? Am I attracted to her? No, I´m not. Maybe. I mean she´s hot. God i like her. Maybe? Do I?

"No you´re not. I don´t like these stuff, who even is Natasha Romanoff?" You chuckle.

"God, you´re such a shitty liar. Besides you had an essay on the MCU like a few months ago plus I saw Wattpad AND Tumbrl on your phone." She nods towards your phone.

"So you knew who I was, when we met!" You basically yelled at her. "Who´s lying now, huh? Miss mysterious!" This time it was Amber who lost her words. "Hm? Cat got your tongue?" Your smirking made something in Amber switch.

"Fuck this-" Her hand grab your shirt and pulled you towards her, her lips crashing at yours. The kiss is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. It's both sweet and intense, like a long-awaited release.

Amber's hand finds its way to the grab your neck, fingers harshly threading through your hair, while yours rest against her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The world outside melts away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. Math was long forgotten.

Emotions swirl within you - confusion, longing, and a spark of undeniable passion. It's a kiss that feels like both a beginning and an end, a moment of surrender to something you can't quite define but desperately want to explore. As you finally break apart, breathless and wide-eyed, knowing that this kiss has changed everything between you and Amber. At least for you, for her? Nothing have changed and everything is going by her plan, maybe it´s little fast forward, but how can she wait, where you’re basically on her bed.

Amber looks at you with a hint of exitment in her eyes and admits. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time, you know? I've imagined this scenario so many times."

You feel a mixture of surprise and curiosity as you respond. "Really? I had no idea."

A faint blush colors her cheeks as she continues, "You never do, pretty girl."

You don´t notice the nickname, but only the feeling that it make you feel as she said those words. So you quickly move close to her again, blushing like a crazy as you already miss her lips on yours.

What could these lips do? Oh my god-

"What?" Amber tilts her head, "If you want anything, ask for it. Didn´t they learn this in school?" There she is, the mocking Amber you thought you hate, but your body says otherwise. You have to clench your thigs, to get at least a little friction. Because Amber, she´s looking at you with her dark eyes and you´re are positive if she says few sententes it could make you come right at the spot.

"Nothing." You mumble as you look away.

"Oh, okay. Then I guess, we can go back to studying-" You cut Amber off, pretty harshly, that was suprising to both of you.

"No! I don´t want to study..." You´re still looking down, knowing if you look up, you´d met her gaze.

"No? So what do you want to do?" By her voice, you can tell she has the smirk on her face.

"You know..."

"I don´t, (Y/N)." She knows. "You mean you want to fuck?" She chuckles.

This made you look at her. "Amber!" And that was a mistake. "I- uh"

"Hm? Say it and I´ll give you what you want." Her hand is caressing your cheek, slowly going up and down.

"F-fuck." You mumble out.

"Whole sentence, pretty girl. Come on." Her hand slowly squeezes your neck, which makes it hard for you to think.

"I want to fuck." You say very quietly, but Amber let it be.

"You forgetting something." She whispers in your ear.

When did she get so close?

You clench your thighs together again, now one Amber´s hand slipping into your pants.

"I want to fuck, please." You clear your throat as you can feel her hand pushing your drenched panties to the side. "I want you to fuck me, please. Pretty please, Amber!" You buck your hips towards her. "Fuck, please- I need you."

"You need me?" She looks up at you.

You nod. "Yes! I do! So much- a lot. I need only you, please." Your words were so pathetic, but Amber is loving every one you let out.

"You do need me, only me. That´s right. I´m keeping you safe, sweetheart. I always had." She wispers in your ear as her finger is slowly playing with your sensitive clit.

You don´t pay attention to her words, at all. But her finger is doing the gods work. She´s speeding up, but it´s still not enough.

"M-more..." you whine. "Please, im begging you, Amber. I really need it." You quickly add.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

You stay quiet, only letting few whines out, you don´t really know how to asnwer to that.

"Of course you do, my precious girl. Aw, you want more fingers, two? Oh three? We want three fingers? Okay." Amber nods as she whisper in your ear, you don´t control your hips anymore, it´s just going by itself at this point.

As Amber insert three fingers into you, it´s so easy as your wetness is dripping by your thighs. It takes you less than two minutes and you´re feeling like coming.

"Amber!" Is the only thing you are capable of yelling.

"I know, I know, shhhh" she shushes you. "I got you, I do."

"Please, can I? I- please!" You close your eyes, hoping she would say yes.

"Look at those pretty manners, of course. Go ahead my pretty girl." She smirks knowing this is better than she ever imaginated. Way better.

As you ride your high Amber just hold you close. Not ever letting you go and making sure all the danger in the world is secured by her and only her. It was like this before and it will be like that forever.

Thank you for reading!!!!

#adele writes #kinktober 2023 #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #scream universe #second day

[ihadlife]

Achilles' Heel

pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person who's hurting you the most. 

tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess

an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.

“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.” 

Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze. 

“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.” 

You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look. 

To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better. 

Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. 

“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.” 

The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood. 

Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared. 

The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that. 

At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.

You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other. 

You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself. 

Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure. 

You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point. 

You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered. 

I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :( 

Pathetic. 

Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles. 

You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time. 

You appreciated that. This kind of curtness. 

You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing. 

You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed. 

Toast bread. 

A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber. 

Spam ham. 

Canned fish. 

A few packets of instant ramen. 

Cheap coffee. 

Two single rolls of toilet paper. 

Two bottles of soju. 

Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items. 

Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles. 

You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise. 

As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career. 

What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone. 

“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file. 

“No, ya were great.” 

You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in. 

“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein’ nosy and invadin’ my  fuckin’ privacy.” 

“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.” 

“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction. 

“Me?” 

“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?” 

You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless. 

“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer. 

“Lemme take ya out.”

You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit. 

“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile. 

Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though? 

“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something. 

She repeated the total price to you. 

Oh, right. 

You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet. 

“Could you please add a bag to that?” 

The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them. 

“Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself. 

“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you. 

“Gold Marlboro.” 

She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you. 

You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market. 

A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one. 

The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator. 

It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator. 

You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels. 

“Shit.” 

The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.  

“Great.” 

You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day. 

Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag. 

Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display. 

Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear. 

“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys. 

“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth. 

It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door. 

 First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries. 

Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen. 

The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould. 

Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud. 

Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours. 

During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough. 

The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies. 

You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later. 

On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table. 

You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life. 

You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body. 

The fact was, you were exhausted. 

And you didn’t even have a good reason for it. 

Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. 

The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. 

Maybe you should go see a therapist. 

You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine. 

Your mind lingered on the image of that. 

His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind. 

You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body. 

You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom. 

You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin. 

Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace. 

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him. 

“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit. 

You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake. 

“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp. 

“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come. 

“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked. 

In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment. 

“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips. 

With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt. 

You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly. 

Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions. 

“That’s right, princess.” 

Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.” 

Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you. 

“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?” 

You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times. 

“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again. 

You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot. 

“Don’t stop.” 

Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now. 

“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him. 

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” 

There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him. 

“I’m yours.” 

The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it. 

But you knew better. 

“Say it again.” 

“I’m yours.” 

The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt. 

You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important? 

You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear. 

“Hey.” 

Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone. 

“Uh, hi.” 

“Ya busy?” 

You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible. 

“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie. 

“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.” 

“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum. 

“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?” 

“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call? 

“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.” 

He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye. 

Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic. 

It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later. 

So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from? 

You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well. 

No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now. 

You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.  

Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call. 

»»————-　　————-««

It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice. 

hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted 

you wanna see each other sometime again? ;) 

‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages. 

You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply. 

“Do you have a minute?” 

You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically. 

“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow. 

You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive. 

You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked. 

“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk. 

The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space. 

The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment. 

“We need to talk.” 

You were fucked. 

»»————-　　————-««

Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand. 

When are you free? We need to talk. 

A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago. 

Unemployed journalist. 

You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call. 

You also considered calling your friend. 

You didn’t, though. 

You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen. 

So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand. 

this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment

You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again. 

Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this. 

Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it. 

The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough. 

Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you? 

The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller. 

The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous. 

The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him. 

Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement. 

You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him. 

Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities. 

Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place? 

Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks. 

Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you. 

“You’re sleepin’.” 

“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.

A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag. 

God, it looked like you’d tried too hard. 

Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor. 

You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat. 

Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival. 

“Hey.” 

You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it. 

“Hi.” You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing. 

“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you. 

When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki. 

“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it. 

“Hm.” Was all he said. 

You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks. 

Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard. 

“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked. 

You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips. 

He didn’t. 

The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture. 

“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.” 

Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle. 

“Siddown, food’s almost ready.” 

He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan. 

“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.” 

“And I didn’ ask.” 

“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was. 

“Then stop actin’ like one.” 

A moment of silence. 

You were speechless. 

A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks. 

“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.” 

You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. 

After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic. 

“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you. 

The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling. 

“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it. 

“It’s alright.” 

Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself. 

The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air. 

Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal. 

“Why aren’ ya eatin’?” 

You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval. 

“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence. 

The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it. 

“D’ya not like it?” 

“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.” 

Hmph. 

You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down. 

“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds. 

“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term. 

“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.” 

Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all. 

“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.” 

Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. 

You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you. 

“Change.” 

“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?” 

You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue. 

“Ya look like shit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.” 

You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom. 

You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.

You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right? 

Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat. 

You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails. 

It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him. 

Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point. 

You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror. 

That would do for now. 

Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you. 

It didn’t matter now. 

Didn’t matter what you looked like. 

You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen. 

Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself. 

“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space. 

“No problem.” 

That was actually kind of nice of him. 

Your brain whined in your head. 

He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward. 

“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?” 

You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu. 

Should you be honest with him, or lie? 

…It didn’t matter anymore, did it? 

“I got fired.” 

You stuffed your face with the fried egg. 

It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up. 

“Sorry t’hear that.” 

All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal. 

“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute. 

You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating. 

“Not really.” 

After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right? 

Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently? 

You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now. 

Don’t be a fucking coward. 

It was the right thing to do. 

Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay. 

Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though? 

You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes. 

“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.” 

“Hm.” 

You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again. 

Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin. 

You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue. 

Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t. 

“So ya wanna break up?” 

You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him. 

“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again. 

“Fair enough.” 

It was him now that looked down. You won this round. 

You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head. 

Don’t say it. 

Don’t. 

“What happened?” 

You winced. You said it. 

“Whaddya mean?” 

This was a mistake. 

You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later. 

“Wait.” 

You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch. 

“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?” 

You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would. 

“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter. 

That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief. 

His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return. 

“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.” 

You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped down. 

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty. 

“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.” 

“The truth.” 

He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you. 

“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist. 

“I used ya.” 

Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason. 

He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on. 

“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.” 

You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him. 

“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.” 

“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”  

You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye. 

“Don’t.” 

It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them. 

“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.” 

“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor. 

“Spend the night.” 

Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit. 

“What?” 

“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought. 

Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement. 

“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper. 

Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod. 

A masochist. 

“Yeah?” He was making sure. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that. 

Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment. 

“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest. 

“Sure.” 

He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately. 

You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing. 

“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.” 

Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one. 

The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well. 

You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.  

The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie. 

“Real’ like this one.” 

You wished he didn’t say those words. 

»»————-　　————-««

You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget. 

Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning. 

“Ya don’t like it?” 

Ever the observant. 

You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders. 

“It’s fine.” 

You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it. 

“Fine?” 

Wrong answer, apparently. 

“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then. 

“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.” 

You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie. 

“What are ya inda mood for, then?” 

You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine. 

You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect. 

“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately. 

His eyes met yours when you decided what to do. 

Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”

You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more?  You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.

“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. 

You were eager. 

And Bakugo was just as eager as you. 

Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak. 

Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest. 

“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could. 

“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it. 

You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him. 

“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him. 

“No!” 

You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look. 

“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.” 

You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.

You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man. 

“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance. 

You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be. 

“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.” 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away. 

“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugo katsuki angst #tw: baby trapping #ves writes

[smileycarat]

delulu thoughts: jeonghan ver

a/n: just me fangirling about jeonghan lolz, sorry for potential typos

whenever i see jeonghan, i automatically think he’s such a gentle kisser

don’t get me wrong, i do think he can have those more heated moments and such, and i would later love to explore that in another fic

but something about the thought of just lounging together on a sunday morning and him giving you the softest kisses throughout the day i aM SEVERELY UNWELL

just enjoying both of each other’s presence away from the public and the limelight that seems to follow him everyday

being in the comfort of your own home where he gets to let lose and relax without constantly being aware of what happens around him in public

having the opportunity to see how he’s like behind closed doors and to experience the way he cups your face with his sweater paws and kisses your brow-bone first, then your cheekbone, then your nose, and finally your lips with the most feather-like kisses there is

being able to wake up to him softly tracing the bridge of your nose and then softly your cheekbone as you wake

you being the first person he speaks to in the morning, his voice still rough from sleep, and you being the last person he speaks to before bed, his voice laced with sleepiness but still pushing through to make sure he wishes you goodnight even if you’re already asleep the moment your head hits the pillow

i think a lot of people would expect him to be slightly chaotic based of how he sometimes presents himself in gose or concerts and yes he can be chaotic, but he’s a gentle chaotic (idek if that makes sense???)

he will sometimes surprise you with the most odd things out of nowhere, like that one time you had a little bit of frosting on your nose from biting into a cupcake

mans is giggling at your appearance and you’re confused because you don’t know what has set him off this time and you’re just looking at him like ???

and he just jokingly rolls his eyes, makes a tsk noise while shaking his head but reaches out to hold your jaw to stop you from moving

then he proceeds to just lick off the frosting off your nose

“what? i couldn’t just leave you like this without telling you” he says after your wide eyed expression

“you could have used a napkin like a normal person!”

he giggles at the way you roll your eyes and pulls you back by the crook of your elbow as you start to move away

“look, we’re even now” he says after he smears frosting on his lips

you both could just be relaxing on the couch laying down and on opposite ends, but he always has either a leg or an arm extended to have contact with you

is completely the type to pull your legs up to his lap to rub at your ankle

or be the type to use his slender hands to knead at the knots between your shoulder blades

i could see him liking to lay down on top of you during a nap and kissing you right under your ear all the way down to your collarbone

this isn’t even in an explicit manner, he just likes to do it for the sake of doing it (also loves the giggle he gets out of you if you’re feeling ticklish)

i could see him as liking to be the one to stay in on his days off and just lounging in matching sweats with you

but also willing and always ready to take a quick trip down to the convenience store with you past midnight in your matching sweats and slippers to grab a snack

absolutely WILL hold your hand all the way to and from the convenience store even though it’s just a few minutes walk

beware, he does not like when you get separated by a street lamp and will pull you to his side so you don’t have to unlink your hands

just a few delulu thoughts about jeonghan <3

#jeonghan #seventeen #kpop #seventeen headcanons #jeonghan headcanons #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan drabble #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt jeonghan #svt yoon jeonghan #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt headcanons #svt fluff #svt #delulu thoughts #embabbles

[genericpuff]

The Mishandling of LO’s S3 Mi(n)season Hiatus - Part 3 1/2

Here we go, Part 3 of my analysis of the current FP episodes - a three-parter episode set leading up to the midseason finale of LO.

Part 1

Part 2

Truth is, I had actually forgotten a lot of the weird (and very stupid) shit that happened in this episode, that I thought Episodes 251 and 252 had already offered up the worst that this three parter set could dish out. Boy, was I wrong, because when I went back to check out Episode 253, I was reminded of a reality that my brain had wiped out in an attempt to protect my withering psyche-

I also forgot just how long this episode is. It's so long that I frankly can't even fit it all into this post, so this is gonna be part 3 1/2.

Anyways, let's just get on with it. This is the final stop on our trip into absolute nonsense.

CAUTION: THIS IS PART 3 OF A 3 PART SERIES IN WHICH I WILL BE SPOILING MUCH OF EPISODES 251-253. THIS WILL BE A LONG POST. BRACE YOURSELF.

Well, it's the midseason finale, and what better way to open it up than with the final title card-

Typo and all. It wouldn't be an LO episode without one. Granted, IIRC this typo has been edited out, but the version of the screenshots I have from it feature it in all its original unedited glory. So enjoy that.

And yes, just like the last two times, the title itself only applies to the final cliffhanger, which is an absolute doozy especially for those who were there to experience it in real time.

This is already a bit of a wild opening compared to the last two episodes, but it's quickly revealed that this is laying the foundation for the prophecy that Psyche gave to Apollo back in Episode 252. In true LO fashion, the story can't actually be linear in any regard, we're always segmented from pieces of information at a time. Loyal fans will call this a "writing style", I call it Rachel just trying to get another 70 cents out of me.

That said, I will say the art here is fairly decent, but I think that just goes to show that LO's one of worst features these days - ironically enough - is its coloring. What began as its strongest feature has now become one of its biggest weaknesses due to the sheer laziness in its rendering and the colors become more and more saturated into the grotesque over time. So at this point, you pretty much have to rob these characters of their colors to make them look decent, and of course at that point it just further highlights Rachel's same-face problems. She definitely tried to make them look distinguishable here, at least, with Hestia and Poseidon being the most unique.

Now, this isn't the first time that we've heard of this herb being referenced - it was stated by Hades that Hera was the one to originally poison Kronos with the herb after gaining his trust - but to see it suddenly just pop up and play a role again out of nowhere already gives me a bad feeling in my stomach. It feels like yet another plot device - especially when presented in this type of format - that Rachel is suddenly using to try and seem "unique" in her writing, much like the strange narration we got back during the "Run For Your Life" sequence. It's just once again LO lacking any specific identity, it's always trying to be a million other things at once.

I will say, much of this in and of itself is panel filler. Why? Because the location of the herb doesn't matter. You'll see what I mean in a moment, but the mentioning of Anthedon plays no role here, it's just yet another obligatory "see, I know how to Google things!" lip service moment from Rachel "self-proclaimed folklorist" Smythe.

Anyways, Eros is perplexed by this but Psyche immediately catches on, knowing right away that Apollo is going for Zeus. And this is where we get yet another one of the dumbest sequences in this comic.

(see what I mean that the location of the herb doesn't matter? Because Apollo already got it and laced it into the cupcake).

Now, first of all, the fact that Eros and Psyche believe Kassandra's prophecy is already hilarious in and of itself, because ... well, because it literally defeats the point of her establishing it as a curse in the previous episode. Unless it only works on mortals? It never stated as such, so we literally just have to go with it and pretend not to notice that.

But most of all, of course LO had to play this off as some joke. Like, "hahaha how awkward! I've already eaten the cupcake!" and he still doesn't seem to really be in shock. Zeus has seen what this herb has done to gods before him, and yet his reaction to this is akin to a dad getting upset that he stepped LEGO's that he asked his kid 20 times to pick up off the floor. The whole "record scratch" style formatting of this followed by Zeus' lack of reaction just really makes me not care about any of this, because clearly the story doesn't care either.

But we don't see who he makes these calls to because the comic, of course, can't spend any longer than 10 panels on a single scene, so we cut to Hades and Persephone.

Again, I don't know what the point was of having Hera relay this information to Persephone for her to relay to Hades, aside from the fact that Rachel needed to act smart with Therapy Speak that didn't even apply to Hera's situation (as we talked about in the last part). They gotta make Persephone the center of everyone's world though, so it's Persephone who's delivering this info and trying to come up with the solution.

Hades, though, wants to focus on his wife's birthday the commemoration of spring.

SIR. THE WOMAN YOU WERE IN AN AFFAIR WITH SINCE BEFORE YOUR WIFE WAS BORN IS CURRENTLY GRAPPLING WITH YOUR FATHER WHO ABUSED HER AND IS NOW HAUNTING HER. THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR FLUFFY ROMANCE TIME. THERE IS A CHILD BEING HELD CAPTIVE IN TARTARUS AND LITERALLY NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE.

Anyways, apparently (for some reason) Hades is the one who has to go meet Demeter out front. Even though Hades has literally NOTHING to do with this ceremony, it's not his domain, but Persephone literally says "yep, that's correct" when he asks if he needs to go out to meet Demeter.

This just feels like such a pointless conversation and I don't get what the point of this exact exchange is. Again, this isn't Hades' domain, so I don't see why he needs to be the one to go meet with Demeter.

But then, of course, to make matters worse, this man has the absolute audacity to pretend like he's never done anything wrong to Demeter. As if she should be obligated to be cool with sharing a bench with this man who literally terrorized her for years and then essentially groomed her daughter.

I hate him so fucking much and I can't believe we're supposed to be rooting for him. He has not undergone ANY of the character development necessary for me to want to care about him.

Anyways, Hades has a seat with Demeter, and the conversation is very brief before Hades says that he has a gift for her. And what is it, exactly?

Oh great, Hades. Sure wish you would have had this consideration hundreds of years ago. I fail to see what good this does for her now because it doesn't change the fact that he still cost her the role of Queen of the Mortal Realm and treated her like shit for hundreds of years. This comes across as such a shallow and empty "apology" because it's barely even a "gift", rather something she was OWED back then that he didn't want to hand over for his own selfish reasons. He still comes out the winner here because he's gotten to spend thousands of years being a rich slave-driving oligarch while Demeter has had to maintain the Mortal Realm on her own even without the glory of having a title.

I especially detest this "twist" because it's less of a twist and Rachel finally accepting the fact she couldn't come up with anything better than what her fans had to come up with for her. If this had been the fact the whole time, we would have seen it established back when we first got those flashbacks showing Hades being a total prick to her over the volcanoes. Instead, Rachel dragged it out for weeks and weeks until finally dumping this "twist" that her fans had been talking about all that time. This is yet another one of those "Rachel used her fanbase to come up with her ideas" moments. I know that that seems a little mean and presumptuous, but the fact of the matter is that the writing in this story is such an absolute mess that you just know Rachel's writing by the seat of her pants and has to rely on her audience's headcanons to actually fill in the gaps of her story. Most of the time when people commend her for the "great storytelling" in LO, what they're referring to are things they came up with entirely on their own because of how easy it is to just make assumptions about LO's storyline. Rachel benefits off the story being as vague as possible because then her fanbase will fill in the gaps with their own assumptions and give her all the credit for an idea they came up with.

By the way, to the "self-proclaimed folklorist" who wrote this, the volcanoes were really just entrances into the Underworld. Hades did not own them. They were owned by Hephaestus. And I would argue that the volcanoes were only seen as "entrances" into the Underworld because, fun fact - if you jump into a volcano, you die!

Hades frames his reasoning as feeling like Demeter was pushing him out of the Mortal Realm, but this makes no sense because none of that is on her. He claims that he felt like an "outsider" but the reality is that he made himself that way. He resigned himself to being King of the Underworld, he ate the pomegranate and made the deal with Erebus, and even he stated that he could still actually leave the Underworld, just not for long periods of time. So he was the only one keeping himself away from the Mortal Realm, not Demeter. We even see that in the VHS tape flashbacks where Hades stumbles onto Demeter's property and she lets him sleep it off in her home. So this whole sob story about how he felt "pushed out" by Demeter is such a bad take from someone who's routinely known to make himself out to be the victim. Because Hades can't have an actual reputation for a reason, no, this is a "retelling" told by someone who got all their Greek myth info off Tumblr circa 2016 and the front page of Google, so Hades has to be the misunderstood uwu sad underdog. Even though he routinely does things that reinforce the reputation he has within the comic, like being a slave driver, abusing lower class nymphs, and grooming teenagers.

Minthe showing up for a split second in the background is the best this comic has been since S2. We stan our girl Minthe, fucking run girl, do what Persephone couldn't do. She's the real hero of this story (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

And honestly, I'm sorry, but Demeter really SHOULDN'T be taking the high ground on this. She has more than enough reason to be upset. For a comic that tries to celebrate feminism and holding abusive men accountable, it sure is willing to make the women - often victims of the men - the real villains who have to "do better". Except for Persephone of course. Persephone is married into the system now, she doesn't have to "do better", she's a "boss babe" for being abusive and petty and undeserving of her status because she's the self-insert Y/N character.

So the ceremony for commencing Spring begins. I gotta say, for the final major scene of the mi(n)season finale, the art is severely underwhelming. You can really tell the difference between S3 and S1 art here, there's barely anything extra done to make this scene even half as impactful as the most basic of scenes from S1.

Like, it's fine, but it still feels so half-baked and rushed to attempt to replicate the kind of art that's been gone from the series for years now. The full sequence itself is actually quite lengthy, with a lot of nymph hands just moving around and playing instruments, but it's about as bland as any other panel, so it makes the sequence itself feel dragged out and boring.

This is about as pretty as the sequence gets and it's still not even as good as the original Dread Queen transformation. There's barely any rendering in the skin, and they couldn't even be bothered to make the hands look normal. It's like it's trying so hard to be "original LO" but is fundamentally missing the point of what made the original LO so captivating.

But oh noooo, looks like Persephone did a bad!

Are they actually gonna give her some kind of flaw? Are we gonna FINALLY gonna find out what she traded to Erebus?

No. We're just gonna make her the cause of winter.

Spaghettios.

And that's where I'm leaving this review for now because, as mentioned in the beginning, this episode is a LOT longer than I remember it being. There's still a whole ass segment with Apollo that we need to cover and I don't want to leave it out but I also don't want to do it entirely in text format and I've hit that pesky image limit. So I'll be posting that second part as soon as I can!

That said, I really can't stand this "subversion" by making Persephone the reason for winter.

First of all, because this is a common problem in a lot of H x P "retellings", as many of them fundamentally miss the point of why Persephone is the "Goddess of Spring".

Persephone was not born the "Goddess of Spring". She was born Kore (Κό��η), a maiden born from Demeter. It wasn't until after she was taken by Hades that Demeter, in her grief, took away the harvest and created winter. It was the return of Persephone every six months that brought about the spring, hence, she earned the name, "Goddess of Spring". What these retellings COMPLETELY MISUNDERSTAND is that the gods aren't 'born' with their titles, they're granted these titles by the mortals who comprehend them and write of them as harbingers of their respective elements, stories, and messages. Zeus wasn't "born" the God of the Sky and Heavens, he was granted that title after he overthrew Kronos and took the Heavens for himself. Hades wasn't "born" the God of the Underworld and the Dead, he was granted that title after he became the ruler of the domain of death.

Where these retellings really fuck up is constantly trying to "subvert" the H x P myth in an attempt to romanticize it, thus undoing the point of why Persephone is called "The Goddess of Spring". A Touch of Darkness also made this mistake by putting a "twist" on Persephone's character by having her start out as someone who couldn't make things grow. But if she sucks at making things grow, then why is she still referred to as The Goddess of Spring? In LO, Hades is referred to as "Grandpa Winter" and the seasons already seem to exist as we saw in this episode through the ceremony, so why has she been called "The Goddess of Spring" this whole time?

But I also can't stand this "subversion" because it fundamentally misunderstands the very myth it's trying to "retell". By giving Persephone the "curse" of creating winter, it further robs Demeter of her own agency in this story, more than it already has. It wasn't enough to make Demeter a helicopter mom, it wasn't enough to drive an actual rift between her and her daughter, they had to take away Demeter's entire role in the story and the creation of the seasons and give it to Persephone.

And this is, surprisingly enough, NOT the first time the comic has done this. There are many traits associated with different gods that have been given to Persephone and Hades. The volcanoes belong to Hades rather than Hephaestus, Persephone is "more beautiful than Aphrodite", Thanatos' and Psyche's butterfly symbolism is given to both Hades and Persephone, Aphrodite's symbolism of roses is given to Persephone, the list goes on. Every single plotline has to involve Persephone as the hero, and every single attribute that's commonly associated with other gods has to be granted to H x P in some way to make them better and more interesting than every other cast member in the comic, and yet they still come across as vapid and boring protagonists with nothing to show for themselves.

So to give the ONE thing from the source material that made LO what it is, it comes across as so unbearably cruel.

But then again, we should have seen this coming. After all, Rachel does not cite this as a retelling of The Hymn to Demeter. She simply refers to it as its more unofficial name: The Taking of Persephone.

Look, I get it, the story is meant to be told from Persephone's POV (or at least through the lens of her being the main character) so I can understand why Rachel may have chosen to reword this to make it more clear. But it's really depressing that she went to such an extent with making it about Persephone that she had to rob one of the most integral character of her moment and retribution. Especially when one of the only books in her cited "research" that's primarily about Persephone is, shocked, The Hymn to Demeter, which is listed at the very bottom of every "research" list you can find in LO's history.

LO should have just stayed as self-indulgent fluff. This isn't "subversion", this isn't a "twist", it's just yet another item on the list of making Persephone the most Important One of all. Even when it attempts to be a 'flaw', it fails tremendously by acting as yet another aspect of her being a Mary Sue, because her 'flaw' has come at the cost of another character's story, identity, and strengths. What was originally a tale of grief, retribution, and standing up against a patriarchal system, has now been warped into a consequence of a muddied plot that doesn't have anywhere left to go. For a story that claims to be "feminist", it has ironically missed the original point of its source material entirely, and completely robbed itself of the feminine strength it could have had if it hadn't tried to be "subversive".

I don't really have anything much more to say than that. I could leave it here for good, but we do still have that extra segment to talk about that covers the actual final cliffhanger in this episode, so... we'll see you on the other side.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 3

A/N: This fic is all vibes, no plot so it's hard to write lol. I have a few ideas now thanks to the wonderful @crocwork-clockodile and @hellfiredarling 💜

As usual, typos are fixed live and in post lol

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

Part 1 Part 2

Steve did not show back up for at least a half hour after he ‘went to the bathroom’. Had you not been in your current situation, you would have made fun of him for being ‘backed up’ or something along those lines.

But in all honesty, you hardly even noticed that he was gone. When Eddie dropped the puck the world had faded into a whirlwind of clacking, yelling, and pitting children against each other. With the sudden death match, Dustin had won. You had taken Mike's place, giving him a condescending pat on the head. He hadn’t been pleased about the situation, but at least it kept him from saying whatever rule-grudge that he held against Eddie.

To your surprise, Eddie had stuck around to watch the match between you and Dustin. You tried not to be too nervous as the match went on, but your freshman friend was your saving grace even as he kicked your ass.

“Eddie’s been the leader of Hellfire for years now.” Dustin said, dropping the puck down and hitting it. “He’s always been the DM.”

“Except for Chris Morrison.” you said.

“Yeah except that guy.” Dustin nodded.

“He started the club, but I made it the merry band of bandits and misfits that it is today.” Eddie said, his hands resting against the side of the table, leaning forward. You’d only been chatting with him and Dustin for a few minutes, but you had quickly learned that Eddie was not the type to stay still for very long.

“You’re gonna get your finger smashed if you keep your hand there.” you said, glancing at how close his fingers were to the smooth surface of the rink. “You’re putting a lot of trust in geometry that this puck isn’t going to crush your hand. It’s already tried to kill me once.” You doubted that the heavy silver rings on his fingers would help at all.

Eddie looked down at his hands and pulled back, just in time for the puck to nearly hit where his fingers had been. “Shit, I didn’t even notice.”

“I notice everything.” You said, not noticing as Dustin smacked the puck at an angle that went directly into your goal. “I notice some things.”

Dustin laughed, and Eddie even grinned at the joke. With that point it was game set and match, or something like that.

“Alright, I’m going to go win some tickets now.” Dustin said, putting the clacker? Paddle? Not-Hockey Stick? Down. You still didn’t know what it was called, but luckily air hockey probably wouldn’t come up again later.

You expected Eddie to leave again, but instead he leaned back against the table, now free to let his fingers dangle without fear of being crushed.

“So you really were interested in Hellfire when you were still in school?” he asked, tilting his head over at you. That same distant and unreadable expression on his face. You really wished that you knew what he was thinking right now.

“Yeah, I saw you guys always having fun so I thought I wanted to try.” you said. “But, you know. Chris Morrison.”

“Forget about Chris Morrison.” Eddie turned towards you, standing upright and looking down at you. How did he feel so tall all of the sudden? How did he keep doing that? What magic switch was he able to turn on and off in his brain to make him go from ‘just a guy’ to ‘hey, I’m in charge here.’? “What made you have an interest in Dungeons and Dragons?”

“The dragons first, and then the dungeons.” It was the first thing that popped into your head, and you immediately realized it was maybe a little stupid and sarcastic. To be fair, you also were a little stupid and sarcastic, but with the way he was looking at you, Eddie wanted a real answer. The look on his face was actually a little funny, the way his whole face fell in annoyance.

Right, he didn’t know you. You didn’t know him. He was still trying to decide if you were some sort of friend or foe. You suspected that if Dustin hadn’t chatted with you so easily through your match with him Eddie wouldn’t have bothered talking to you more.

Maybe you should fire Steve and make Dustin your wing man instead.

He didn’t immediately leave though, which made you assume that you were being given a second chance to give him a real answer.

“Alright, I played a lot of make-believe as a kid.” you said. “Then as I got older, people stopped playing, but I wasn’t ready to be done. Then when I heard about this club where you could play make-believe again, I thought it would let me have that feeling again. I thought it’d be cool to, I don’t know, have people to play with again.”

It was a childish answer, but it was a real one. Everything in your life after middle school had been a steady monotonous stream of ‘work, home, work, school, home, school function, work, home’.

“Hellfire Club isn’t Make-Believe Club.” Eddie said, still staring you down. “Yeah, it’s a fantasy game but we take it seriously. It’s not all princesses and fairy tales.”

Actually, this guy might be getting on your nerves now.

“You’re taking my answer awful personally.” you said, straightening up under his gaze. You didn’t care how intimidating he was trying to be right now, he had pissed you off. “You asked why I wanted to play, I gave you my answer. You don’t have to like it, but there it is.”

He seemed taken aback by your bluntness. He blinked, his round eyes shifting to something else. “You’re right.” he said finally with a subtle laugh. “That was a dick thing to say. I really sounded like Chris Morrison for a second.”

“Yeah, you did.” you agreed. “You always this cynical about people?”

“Well, when you’re the town freak it comes with the title.” he shrugged.

“Does it come with a sash too? Or perhaps a crown?”

“No, unfortunately Hawkins High didn’t have that in the budget this year.”

“You should take that up with the student council.”

“Or City Hall.”

He was smiling at you now, and you hated how that smile was brighter than any of the flashing lights of the arcade. The longer you looked at him, the more attractive he got. God, you were going to kill Steve for delivering something you couldn’t have.

Eddie’s demeanor changed as you two bantered, no longer on edge now. Now that he seemed sure that you weren’t here to cause problems or were just looking to laugh at the freaks, his stance was much more relaxed. You looked him over again, taking advantage of his gaze drifting to where two other members were hunched over an arcade cabinet.

He had long wavy brown hair, and you tried to place how you could have missed that in school. Surely you would have remembered someone like him, right? It felt so much like you were missing something, but you couldn’t place where you knew him. It was going to drive you insane.

“So it looks like I’m done here.” You jumped as Steve appeared behind you. You looked over at him, your face reading with panic at the idea of him ditching out on you now. Yeah, things were going a lot better without him here, and he had not been very helpful-

Okay, maybe he didn’t need to be here to help with your attempt to flirt but you still weren’t exactly eager to be left alone.

Eddie looked between the two of you and you turned to Eddie. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna see him off.” You said.

“Right, yeah.” Eddie nodded. He was on his guard again and you felt bad that Steve’s presence caused that.

Eddie and Steve looked at each other, a tension between the two of them. For five full seconds they just stared at each other with you in the middle, wondering what the actual fuck was going on.

That’s when Eddie threw up his hands over his hand in an imitation of horns and sputtered at Steve who was immediately taken aback. It was so out of left field, and you let out a laugh before covering your mouth and grabbing Steve and dragging him away towards the entrance.

“What was that about?” you asked as you two stepped outside. “And where the hell were you for the past half hour?”

“I was giving you space because you weren’t going to get anywhere with me around.” Steve said, looking back over his shoulder. Eddie had disappeared into the arcade with his club. “He really does live up to his nickname.”

“Nickname? You’re trying to set me up with a high schooler with a nickname?” You sighed.

“Yeah, and you were basically drooling over him the whole time you were talking so, you know, you’re welcome about that.” Steve said. “Everyone called him a freak in school so, Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson.”

“Yeah, he mentioned something about being the town freak.” you said. “Why’s he a freak exactly?”

Steve tilted his head, as if he couldn’t tell if you were joking or serious. “He runs a club called Hellfire, plays that weird game you and Dustin keep talking about, and just- look at him! With the long hair and the chains and metal patches.”

“According to you, I was looking at him.” you snorted. “So he plays games and dresses differently and has taste in music. Doesn’t make him a freak.”

“Right, I forgot you’re a total weirdo who’d be into that.”

“He was your idea!”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. All the things that he would have found off putting to him in high school now seemed to parallel and fit with someone who he now considered a close friend. He’d been wrong about a lot in the past year, maybe he’d been wrong about Eddie too.

“So are you gonna actually flirt with him when I leave or are you just gonna stand there and make small talk?” Steve asked, crossing his arms. “I introduced you two, at least tell me you’re going to put in the effort.”

You winced and glanced back to the arcade, you couldn’t see Eddie but you knew he was still in there.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Steve gawked at you. “This whole thing was your idea and you’re not even going to try?”

“Listen, Steve, I like him. I do. That’s the problem. You actually hit the nail on the head, and he is absolutely my type.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m not his type.” you admitted. “See, I know guys like Eddie. I’ve fallen for guys like Eddie. Funny thing about a lot of male weirdos, freaks, and outcasts, is that they still loooove themselves some popular girls. Girls like that love them because they’re trying to either fix them or piss off their parents. Freak guys don’t like weirdo girls.”

“You’re being the biggest dingus in the world and I think you’re full of shit.” Steve said bluntly. “Nice try, but you’re gonna go in there and flirt with him. Did he actually say that he was into that type?”

“Well, no but-”

“But nothing!” Steve sighed. “Listen, you’re cute, okay? I’ve seen what you look like when you’re not at work.” He gestured to your outfit. “If I took you to a party or a bar I’d be able to help you get at least six numbers by the end of the night.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So why are you so bent out of shape about Eddie?”

“Because you’re picky, and you’re my friend.” It was a surprisingly nice sentiment. “I’m fine dating around while I figure out what I want, but you’re not the same. You need someone who is going to understand what you’re talking about, and he is the only person in Hawkins who would also bite a head off a bat.”

“You know, everyone wants to talk about how Ozzy bit the head off a bat but no one wants to talk about how that whole thing actually happened-” you started.

“Nope. Not me. Don’t tell me, tell him.” Steve cut you off. “I should be telling you that talking about biting animal heads is not the best way to flirt but he might be into it. Just promise me you’ll at least try okay?”

Steve gave you a pleading look, and you couldn’t say no. You didn’t have the heart to. He was right, you’d given up before you’d even tried. Steve went out of his way to hand pick a potential date for you, someone he never would have even bothered talking to before. You had to try.

You breathed in the cool night air deeply, holding it before exhaling slowly. “Alright, I’ll try.” you promised.

“I expect you to tell me everything tomorrow!” Steve said as he started walking towards the parking lot you found yourself following him, your body reacting to all the times you two had parked next to each other at work.

“Yeah, yeah, you get first dibs on any kiss and tell!” you shot back. “After the details you gave me from your dates, I promise I’ll be worse.”

Steve pulled you in and gave you a hug, and you squeezed him tightly in return. You never would have thought that Steve Harrington of all people would end up such a good friend, but you were glad he was there. You two said your goodbyes before he got into his car. You waited until he’d pulled safely out of the parking lot before turning back into the arcade.

Just go in there, crash the Hellfire Club meeting again, and shamelessly flirt with Eddie Munson. Three things, that’s all you needed to do.

You pushed the doors of the arcade open and walked back inside.

You wander around the arcade.

You’re alone.

Shit.

There was no sign of Eddie or any of the Hellfire Club. You were completely alone in the arcade now and there was a pang in your stomach. You had told Eddie you’d be right back, but he was gone. Maybe your comment about still wanting to play had totally fucked over your chance to talk to him more after all.

You made your way back outside, just in time to see a van peel out of the parking lot. Your eyes widened when you saw Dusting looking out the window with an apologetic look and mouthing what you assumed to be the word “Sorry”.

Eddie must have gathered up the club to go somewhere else. You wanted to be fine, you wanted to shrug it off as you had every other time you’d failed to impress a guy, but you felt disappointed. Really disappointed. Sure you’d only talked to the guy for a half hour, most of which was spent talking trash as you all played air hockey, but you’d had fun. More fun than you’d had in a while with a guy, Steve notwithstanding.

It felt like Chris Morrison all over again.

You sighed to yourself and made your way to the car. Of course the second you wanted to try you ended up alone again.

Well, that killed it for tonight. You pushed the rejection out of your mind and made your way back to your own car, thinking about how you were going to tell Steve that you’d blown your chance.

Eddie Munson didn’t know what to make of the fact that Steve Harrington of all people was at the arcade. Popular? Played sports? Someone like him didn’t hang around at the arcade, not under any normal circumstances. The only thing that made sense about him being there was that he was with a girl, one that didn’t match up with the normal type that someone like Steve should be dating.

He had planned on avoiding Steve, choosing to focus on his club rather than antagonize the former king of Hawkins high. Really, he did. But then that shrimp Henderson had made his way over to Steve and his date. The kid already talked about Steve too much as it was, always going on about how cool he was while also dodging questions about how the two had met and become friends. Eddie had long since given up on asking about it, not that he cared. Not that he was jealous that the kid he was growing to see like a little brother already had another older male friend in his life.

That wasn’t Eddie’s style.

But this was Hellfire Club, and Eddie wasn’t about to lose another member to the dark side. Dustin had been looking forward to this rare gathering of the club outside of school, more than usual actually. He’d been wearing that same shit eating grin he always did when he was about to pull some bullshit at the table. Now Eddie knew why.

This little shit was trying to introduce him to Steve. Dustin talked Steve up so much, and now he just happened to be here on a date the same time as Sidequest Day? That was too convenient. Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised that Dustin was trying to bridge his friends together, but he was.

So, when Eddie saw Dustin watching Steve and his date chatting and playing Q*bert, he could have ignored the bait. He should have ignored the bait. But then Chris Morrison’s name was mentioned, and curiosity got the best of him.

Plus how could he ever resist talking shit about Chris Morrison.

So he walked up to the group, fully prepared to make agonzing small talk with Steve for thirty seconds before dragging Henderson away to focus on the real reason he was there. It wasn’t often that everyone had the time or money to come to the arcade like this, and Eddie had been lucky enough to make a special sale that day to some senior from the art department. He didn’t often have spending money for something like the arcade. He’d prefer to go to the movies or get his supply from Rick or buy anything to maintain his guitars, or upkeep of his van. Arcade time with Hellfire was something that happened once a semester at best, with the promise of him giving out advantages during the campaign he was running.

“Henderson is right. Morrison was the biggest asshole that Hellfire has ever seen. Worst DM too.” Eddie said, glancing between Dustin with a warning glare and Steve with a weary look.

He didn’t expect you, the girl playing the cabinet, to be the one to speak up. You knew Chris? This night kept getting weirder. When Eddie turned to Steve, to ask about what he was doing at the arcade, just to appease Dustin, Steve directed his attention back to you.

That made more sense, Steve Harrington wouldn’t be at an arcade on a Saturday night unless there was a girl involved.

When you turned around to face him, he noticed the way your eyes looked him down and up quickly. That was something he was used to with most people in Hawkins. They’d size him up just so that they could try and tear down the freak. There was a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite catch before it turned into one of... disappointment? Discomfort? Shit, it was all the same to him.

Dustin made quick introductions of everyone, and Eddie was surprised when you offered your hand so easily despite the look in your eyes. Well, at least you were polite. It hadn’t even been two minutes and Eddie was already itching to get back to spending time with his club rather than crashing whatever meeting Dustin had clearly planned here.

But he’d be polite, humor the kid for just a second. If Dustin wanted him to meet Steve, then Eddie would be the contrarian and make small talk with his date instead.

You two would have graduated the same year, had Eddie not been held back. Yeah, it was starting to come back to him. He remembered you.

And that was enough of socializing with the upper class for the night. Eddie started directing Dustin back to club activities before Steve spoke up again.

“So, my friend here actually had an interest in Hellfire Club back in the day.”

It could have been left at that, but Eddie was getting more and more irritated over this situation. He looked at you, who looked like a deer in the headlights. Of course, Dustin might have seen something in Steve but he was no different now than he was back then.

“Really?” Eddie said. “And what about our little club was so interesting to you?”

He shot a glare to Steve, but looked down at you with a frown. You’d always seemed nice at school, but he’d made that mistake before. Eddie always liked the groups that kept to themselves and didn’t whisper behind his back or cause trouble for his friends. It was a shame he had been wrong about you.

But when you answered awkwardly about asking Chris to join, there was something in the way you spoke that was genuine. Either you were a really good actress, or you were being serious about it. Eddie might have been the biggest cynic in Hawkins, but he always did have a weakness to cute girls.

The conversation fizzled out quickly, and as much as Eddie didn’t mind talking to you he still wasn’t interested in crashing your date or getting to know Steve at this time. Not when his club started going wild across the room as Lucas was scoring big at a game.

So he turned around and left the two of you alone, running off to see what the jackpot prize was that Lucas had claimed.

For about ten minutes everything went back to normal. He was in the middle of an intense racing game against Jeff, when suddenly he heard Dustin screaming for him, causing his car to spin out and lose spectacularly.

Tonight was not going well at all for Eddie Munson.

Pushing down his irritation, he could hear it in Henderson’s voice that he was about to start trouble again. Of course as he made his way over to the hockey table, there you and Steve were again. Great. Eddie was so excited to be the third wheel during his club’s meet up.

But then Steve disappeared to take a shit. Well, he didn’t say that exactly but it made Eddie feel better to think of Steve having a miserable time in the bathroom. Jealous? No. Not at all.

Maybe a little.

You didn’t seem to like that Steve had left you, and Eddie figured you were uncomfortable without your date around. Dustin only ever talked Steve up, but had never mentioned you to his knowledge.

When the puck went flying towards your face a moment later, Eddie’s eyes widened with shock as you caught it with a laugh. The way you spoke to Wheeler and Henderson was familiar, as if you’d met them before. How did they know you? You were cuter when you were laughing with his friends.

As Eddie watched the chaos of you bantering with his freshmen, his mind wandered to what you would have looked like in the darkness of the prop department wearing the Hellfire shirt. With how easily you got along with Henderson and Wheeler he was sure you would have fit in.

Damn Chris Morrison and damn Steve Harrington.

He snapped out of his thoughts when you spoke up, a glint in your eyes as you handed over the puck.

“What say you, Eddie of Hellfire?” The way you spoke to him, a hint of a laugh in your voice but not in the normal mocking way he’d hear from others at school, made him break out into an unabashed grin as he took the puck.

“Sudden death it is.”

Making small talk with you was easy, and it wasn’t long until Eddie had forgotten about Steve completely as Dustin decided to bridge the gap between the two of you. You were the assistant manager at Family Video, had helped Dustin and Mike with homework on occasion, and were a regular at the Rocky Horror Picture Show that played at the seedy theater on the outskirts of town.

Eddie was starting to like you more the more the three of you chatted. When the topic od D&D came back up, your answer had struck a chord with him.

“I wasn’t done playing.”

Those words would tumble around in the back of his mind for the rest of the evening. They had been honest, raw words. There was a weight to them that he’d carried himself for a long time. Growing up with Al Munson didn’t exactly give him the idyllic childhood that one would see in movies or tv. Play time wasn’t exactly a priority when you were just trying to fucking survive.

He’d challenged your answer, when he knew in his cynical heart that he was the same. Between Hellfire and his band, there wasn’t much else he had going for personal enjoyment. Of course there was time to hang out with his friends and the occasional odd night where he crashed at Rick’s place when his home with Wayne felt too small or cramped.

Eddie wanted to ask you what you’d play, if you ever did have a chance to join a campaign. He wondered if you enjoyed fantasy the same way he did, if you were a fighter, a spell caster, or a healer.

Then Steve showed back up.

Right, you were here with Steve on a date. A date that had way too much fiber and had probably exploded the toilet while he left you hanging for going on forty minutes now. And now Harrington decided that the date was over? Jesus, this guy didn’t know what he was missing out on. Eddie felt for you, he’d been on his share of bad dates in the past too, and bad nights that he wished were dates.

He shook the image of Paige out of his head.

You gave him a smile as you said goodbye. Well, you said you’d be back in a moment but Eddie knew that the night was over. You walked out of the Arcade with Steve, and that would be that.

Sidequest day was always short, with limited spending money between members and the machines eating quarters like candy. Soon his little sheepies were gathered around him again, talking about their winnings and who deserved to get some sort of perk for the game. It was almost unanimously decided that it would go to Lucas, after he’d nearly broken the basketball machine from how fast he had been throwing balls.

Eddie still had a bill burning a hole in his pocket, having spent more time talking to you than playing games. He had to get this weird night out of his mind, and turned towards the group, knowing that he was going to regret this.

“Whoever has any money left, pool it in I’ll take us to get pizza.” He said. This was followed by cheers and a scrambling of pulling out loose quarters, dimes, and even a five that Gareth forgot he had in his wallet. Eddie lead them all towards the parking lot, his eyes scanning the parking lot for you.

You and Steve were chatting by his car and laughing the same way that you had laughed with him before Steve pulled you into a tight hug. Maybe your date wasn’t a bust after all. Eddie didn’t know why he cared, this was only the third time you’d met. You didn’t know him.

Dustin nudged Eddie, that same smug grin on his face.

“Pretty fun night, huh, Eddie?” he said.

“Your plan didn’t work, shrimp.” Eddie said. “I know you were trying to set something up and I’m not interested.”

Dustin looked surprised, and looked like he was going to argue but a sharp glare from Eddie shut him up. Eddie never had an interest in meeting Steve, and it was clear Steve felt the same way, going so far as to ditch his date to hide in the bathroom the whole time. Eddie didn’t know what the kid saw in Harrington but Eddie was less than impressed.

“Geeze, sorry.” Dustin sighed. “I thought you two would get along.”

“You know, a little humility wouldn’t hurt you.” Eddie said before grabbing his shoulder. “Next time you decide I have to meet someone, don’t make it during Hellfire, mk?”

Dustin looked disappointed but nodded as everyone piled illegally in the back of Eddie’s van. As long as Eddie didn’t drive like a madman (a difficult feat) it would be safe enough. He’d put the seats down to haul equipment years ago, and never could get them to come back up. He could fix it if he wanted, but there was never a real reason to.

As everyone got settled, Dustin looked over at Mike with a shrug. The two of them had thought that things were going well between the two of you, but the look in Eddie’s eyes had said otherwise now.

“Maybe she just wasn’t his type?” Mike said, as the rest of the club chatted. “Eddie doesn’t really talk about those things anyway. Maybe he doesn’t even want a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t see the way they were talking. Even if he wasn’t into her like that, they were still getting along.” Dustin sighed and shifted to look out the window as Eddie started up the van. Everyone in the back held on for dear life as Eddie started out of the parking lot.

As they passed your car, Dustin caught your eye just as you stepped out looking dejected.

“Sorry” Dustin mouthed to you.

It had been a bust tonight, but something felt off. Why would Eddie have such a clearly good time talking to you, just to turn around and say he wasn’t interested?

Dustin made a mental note to drop into Family Video tomorrow to talk to you and Steve.

Part 4

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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Comments and reblogs help me know that y'all read and enjoy it, which feeds my excitement to write!

#wing man #eddie munson x reader #nacht fic

[cursedvida]

SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE p.II (Buggy x f!Reader)

HERE PART 1 // HERE PART III

Warnings: violence, swearing a lot, reader being a little tsunedere. Little age gap between the reader and Buggy, she's like 25/26.

A/N: i didn't plane this for having more than one chapter but here we go... Again sorry for the typos, English isn't my first language. I hope you enjoy this :D

You don't know much about seduction. In fact, you don't know anything. Throughout your life you've had very little interest in love affairs. You had a pretty rough teenage years, so you were too busy surviving to think about boys. Therefore, the whole thing with Buggy is something totally new to you. Not being in control of the situation gets on your nerves. It's irritating, nauseating. To think that right now you could have collected a nice reward and you could be quietly enjoying your money, but instead you're in that crew thinking about a clown all day is something your pride can't take. You often wonder how you could have stooped so low, but as soon as that red-nosed idiot pops into your head there is only room for daydreaming. 

Now your goal is no longer to kidnap him and hand him over to people who will probably kill him, but to try to make him notice you. But really you, as a possible love interest, and that's much harder than your first mission. It's like ten billion times more complicated. Killing people is a lot easier than attracting them. 

You were trained to kill people, so you're not a person who knows very well how to relate to others. Social skills aren't your strong suit and being nice for more than fifteen minutes isn't either. You've at least tried to be friendly with the rest of the crew, but by continuing to pretend you're a wimp you haven't had much chance to blend in either. 

Today the whole crew went to the nearest tavern for a drink. Buggy claims to have landed a deal that will bring in a lot of money, so he's in a good mood. At first the tavern keeper didn't seem too happy to welcome a gang of pirates to his place, but Buggy can be quite persuasive when he wants to be. 

Now they're all drunk. Buggy is the center of attention, as usual. He boasts of his great wit and everyone around him cheers him on. The alcohol causes all emotions to intensify. You watch him from the bar, this time you're drinking because it's the only way you don't feel ridiculous about being hopelessly attracted to that idiot. 

You have conflicting feelings all the time. You like him, but you think he's a dumbass. You're attracted to him, but at the same time you think he does terribly ridiculous things. You have no idea how to handle all those emotions, but you're also unable to take your eyes off him or ask yourself absurd questions, like how experienced he should be, or how he should look without makeup. You also often think about whether he'll like younger girls, because he's got more than a decade on you and you might not be his type. In fact, what his type is also comes to your mind all too often. 

Fuck, you're a mess. 

You order another mug of beer, turning away from staring at Buggy with an intensity that could break solid concrete. You've always had a good tolerance for alcohol so you're not drunk, just dizzy enough to make it all the same to you. The perfect state. 

"What's a girl like you doing surrounded by this bunch of weirdos?"

Suddenly you see a guy next to you, he doesn't belong to the crew. He's a big man, looking menacing. He must be one of the few people who have decided to stay in the bar despite the pirates. You decide to deliberately ignore him. 

"Hey gorgeous, I'm talking to you.”

You take another swig of beer, completely evading. You decide to turn around again, now Buggy is doing some sort of demonstration. He has detached his hand from the rest of his arm and swings his clenched fist at full speed. You don't know what he's talking about, but he sure has exaggerated the whole thing. You smile to yourself. 

"Who the fuck is that fucking clown?" asks the heavy one, still standing next to you. 

You don't even deign to look at him. 

"Shut the fuck up" You tell him in the coldest voice you can. 

"Don't tell me you're going with him and his whole gang of freaks" The guy lets out a huge laugh "Honey, a beauty like you is wasted among all those creeps."

"And the oxygen you use is also a waste considering it could be useful to someone who isn't useless to society."

"But what the fuck is wrong with you, does it bother you that much that I pick on that loser?"

"I told you before to shut the fuck up" You repeat calmly and without raising your voice. 

"Uh, you scare me" he laughs "almost as much as your big nosed captain". 

"All right, you asked for it”

The guy can't even react, as soon as he wants to realize you've already stuck an ashtray in his mouth, wedging it in such a way that he can barely breathe. And, before the others can even realize what's happening, you grab one of the stools and hit him so hard in the stomach that the guy goes flying towards the other end of the bar, hitting the wall with such force that the ashtray comes out of his mouth. 

You calmly return to your seat, taking another sip of beer as if nothing had happened. But it's at that moment that you come back to reality to realize that Buggy is no longer the center of attention, but you, and that everyone is staring at you in disbelief, including your captain. 

Fucking shit, for fuck's sake. 

Now you've really fucked up. You're supposed to be a rookie with barely any physical skills, not a killing machine. Let's see how you get out of this now, though at least Buggy is paying attention to you. God, you have to be a moron to think something like that at a time like that, you're totally losing your mind. 

"What the hell was that?" Buggy ask to you.

You just answer simply, as if everything that just happened was not with you.

"He was bothering me"

Buggy approaches you, something that makes you nervous. Not because he might be angry, but to have him around. You almost killed a guy just two minutes ago but having the man you're obsessed with looking at you makes your legs tremble.

“You broke all his teeth, Y/N.”

You look at the man across the bar. It's true, you've left his mouth in a mess, all his clothes are stained by the blood that falls on him. But hey, he asked for it, you warned him.

"Why hadn't you said you knew how to fight like that?" He insists, and you don't know if right now he's thinking of killing you, kicking you out of the crew, or both. 

You can't tell him that you were hired to hunt him down and that you've abandoned that task because you have a huge crush on him. Especially the crush part, you would never admit that, so you must think of a good excuse as soon as possible. 

"My parents trained me" and that's not a lie "but they always said to only use my skills if necessary" that's a lie, and a big one at that. 

Buggy looks you up and down, which makes your stomach tingle. You are so close to him that you can almost feel his breath on your skin. So close that it would be very easy to get a couple of centimeters closer and see what red lips taste like. You wonder what his skin must feel like against yours, or how your hands must feel tangled in his hair. You look like the narrator of a romance novel, it's pitiful but you can't help it. 

"You've been swabbing the deck since you came in, how did it not occur to you to say you could be of more use to us?”

"I'm sorry, captain."

Buggy lets out a sigh, there is something paternalistic in his attitude, that condescension that is so typical of him. That makes you relax, he believed everything. Probably because he's drunk, but you don't care about that now.

Buggy puts his hands on your shoulders, making you jump. It's the most contact you've had since you've known him and it's not even real contact because he's wearing the fucking gloves.

"Y/N, look at me" And you obey, although the fact of having him so close to you, being able to smell his alcohol breath mixed with that smell of gunpowder that characterizes him makes you a little dazed. You feel more and more like kissing him. "You can't keep such important information to yourself. But don't worry, I'm going to look for a better position for you. With how good you are at fighting, we're going to do great things together, huh."

You nod without further ado. It's a shitty proposition, he's just telling you that he'll use you as a weapon, like he uses the strongest members of his crew. But you don't care, because Buggy is touching you and because from now on you will be able to talk to him a lot more.

Maybe you should go talk to that guy from earlier and thank him.

Oh, god. Yeah, you're definitely going from bad to worse.

#buggy #buggy the clown #buggy imagine #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown imagine #buggy the flashy fool #buggy x you #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy live action #buggy the genius jester #buggy one piece #buggy pirates #buggy x oc #buggy d clown #opla buggy #one piece live action #one piece netflix

[dulcewrites]

Fire & Desire

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (mentioned) , Aegon ii Targaryen x reader (wc: 2.2k)

Summary: Many sacrifices have been made to get Aegon on the throne. Including ones made by you

A/N: this had been sitting in my drafts for sooo long. I thought I’d revise it a bit, give me a bit of a break from fool me once. Hope y’all like it 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Sorry if there is lots of typos this was sort of posted on a whim

When Aegon becomes King, it is up to us to guild him in the right direction. To have the ear of your husband is ever important…. That may mean giving things up in return.

The words had been ringing in your head all night. Along with the image of Alicent’s uncomfortable grimace. Your instinct was the ask her what she meant by that; play silly and confused. Easily moldable and docile, the way most people like.

But you know your good mother too well for that. She knows all. You should have seen this moment coming.

The next thing you wanted to do was apologize. Tell her that you do not know how you got yourself in this predicament. But Aegon has never been one to apologize for his indiscretions, so why should you. All you can give her a curt nod.

You know she advices you without any malice. The bolstering hate you sometimes saw in Queen Alicent, the kind you see in all her children in different dosages, had cooled to a melancholy resentment over the years. She’s grown older, a bit wiser. Or maybe she is just tired.

The type of debilitating exhaustion that only women would get. Women forced to do the bidding of those around them.

It was never going to be simple. It is never easy with this family. An heir that is never around, a dead King that was never suited from the job, and a circle of scheming noblemen. Recipe for chaos and destruction.

Alicent does not have the hope to be disappointed anymore. Everything is for survival now. So much has been given up for this, and now comes your time to pay the price. Just like Alicent has.

If she knows, you can assume that means Aegon does too. He is more observant than anyone would give him for.

There are days he looks at you, and you think he can tell what you have been up to. He can look right through you and see what his brother did to you that morning, or late the night before.

Does he wonder where you run off to, the way you did with him at the beginning of your marriage. When there was a blinding and painful need to make it work. If he does know, you are surprised he has not said anything to do… or to Aemond. Aegon’s emotions flow hot and wild. Being on the opposite end of it is a sight. But then he levels off, normally numbs whatever he feels with wine or whores. He is simple in a complicated way.

If he has any inkling about what you have been doing, he has not made it known. You don’t know if that is a relief or if it hurts. None of that Targaryen madness dealt out for his wife.

Your thoughts are broken when he stalks in. Freshly washed, slight bruises on his face, and wrapped in despair.

He does now acknowledge for presence, just climbs into bed after blowing out the few candles on his side of the room. The two of you lay in silence before you feel like you will crawl out of your skin if you do not say anything.

“I will stop seeing him… in that way,” you say into the darkness, voice stronger than you thought it would be. “If that pleases you.”

You turn from your back to your side to face him; you are greeted with a eyeful of silvery hair that seems to glow in the dark. His back facing you, rigid and uncomfortable.

“Aegon, did yo-“

“I heard you the first time,” he sighs, interrupting you.

There is more silence. You continue to stare at his back, till he slowly turns to face you. Even in the dark you can see the frown on his face. The moonlight illuminating him It is like speaking with his mother all over again. Does Alicent look at Aegon and get frightened? To give birth to someone who looks so much like you but disappoints you so deeply must be haunting. A terrible mirror to have.

“I am surprised you are even admitting it,” he mutters.

You decide not to tell him that the admission comes at the behest of his mother. There is no need to add to the list of things that splitter that relationship.

“We are going to need each other, now more than never. I am willing to admit… wrongdoing and repent for it. But we both have to do that for it to work.”

Your tongue feels heavy calling whatever Aemond, and you have wrongdoing. The proper term for it does not come because you don’t know what you two are. Lovers, confidants, prisoners. It’s all the same.

The frown deep softens a bit.

“Aenar is mine.”

It comes out like statement, but you suppose it is meant to be a question. Aenar is all Aegon is best and worst ways. Sweet cherubic features and a rambunctious spirit. They even pout in the same way when they do not get what they want. They are so alike that it stupidly makes you wonder at what age he will let you down. The way his father has before him.

“He is yours,” you whisper. “A tiny terror.”

Aegon lets out a short fit of playful laughter. The affection Aegon has towards the kids is something you were constantly taken aback by. When he was around, and in his right mind, he is electric with them. It made you a bit jealous. You pushed your body to the max, and Aenar follows him like he is a god. A Targaryen God.

“But Valaena…” he trials off bitterly.

You do not answer immediately. While Aemond barely even looked at you by the time you became pregnant with Aenar, things were different by the time you had your little girl. Your relationship with Aemond sweet and syrupy. The glow of intimacy neither of you had experienced before.

“No, she is yours.”

It is easier to say that, her features still soft and indiscernible. You think she is his. You hope for his sake she is. Aegon becomes extra warm around her. Baby talk and soft looks of love.

Perhaps you hope he is for her sake as well. If Aemond thinks Valaena is his daughter, he makes no effort to show it. At first, you thought it was him being smart. Knowing that taking too much of a liking would be suspicious. Then you quickly learned he just has no interest in that part of you. Sometimes you fear he sees that extension of you, your kids, as obstacles instead.

Living and breathing embodiments of the duty you put first.

“You would really stop,” Aegon rips you from his thoughts. “Tell Aemond that it is done?”

His voice lifts intrigued. A different conversation you had with Alicent floats in your mind.

Their want for different things keeps them from expressing their love, but it is there.

“Will you stop fathering flea bottom bastards?”

Aegon scoffs at your question, but nonetheless shuffles closer to you. He smells like lemon and roses.

“This is going to be so bad,” his voice wobbles a bit.

You want to agree, because it will; it is going to be blood spilling amounts of terrible. Instead of expressing that you lean forward too.

It is how the two of you fall asleep. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, and slow breathes mangled together.

Is that what having your husband’s ear is like?

You know you are staring, unabashedly and grotesquely.

The only saving grace being that you are not the only one. Everyone in the dragon pit has their gaze on Aegon. Small folk watch on in confusion or admiration. Everyone on the stage hold more somber or stoic faces. Everyone accept Otto that is, who looks as pleased as you have ever seen him.

Alicent’s face is serenely flat. Helaena cannot look at her brother for too long, looking away at times. You do not dare turn to see Aemond’s reaction. Especially not after avoiding him all morning. There was a sinking feeling you got when your lady in waiting told he was outside of the door. Cowardly, you told her to tell him you were occupied. You did not know what to say to him yet.

Now all you can do if stare, and fiddle with the crisp fabric of your mute pink and gardenia dress.

It is terribly quiet in the pit. It only makes the affair even more uneasy.

There is something so devastatingly beautiful about his tear-stained face. You enjoy Aegon like this. Needy, helpless, and metaphorically flat on his back with shock and despair.

When he finally rises, Conqueror’s crown on his head, his eyes darts to everyone on stage. When his large, watery eyes finally get to you, you try to give him an encouraging smile. You are sure it reads more painful than reassuring or comforting. You bow your head expectedly.

King Aegon, Second of His Name. Gods helps you all.

The tides change once he turns to face the crowd. When the cheers start, there goes your meek Aegon. He lifts Blackfyre with a vigor you have never seen from your husband. There is a satisfaction that radiates off him. It’s stunning and terrifying to watch.

Despite everything, your eyes tear themselves away long enough to briefly glance at Aemond. If Aegon’s feeling burn fast and dissipate to light fizzles of hate, then Aemond’s resentment simmers for years, and flares when the flames are fanned.

His eyes never leave his brother’s back. Everyone enraptured by Aegon’s attitude change for different reasons.

The cheers reach their peak, and foolishly you think maybe things will be alright.

Then everything goes black.

This is going to be so bad

It is only in the comfort of his own chambers, where Aemond feels like he can finally let out the breath he has been holding in for days.

His stomach has been in knots for days, waves nausea fluttering in certain moments. It reminds him of after he first lost his eye. He would get such painful headaches that it made sick. 

Now it is not his lack of an eye ailing him, it is you.

He should have known something was wrong when you would not allow him to see you. The necklace was missing too. The sterling silver locket with a sparkling sapphire in the middle of it. You had not taken it off since he gifted it to you… till today.

Aemond knows what it means.

You could barely meet his eye, as if you think your rejection would break him. He would rather gouge his other eye out than give Aegon the satisfaction of that.

The only time you seemed aware of his presence is when you squeezed his arm when they were all face to face with Meleys. The squeeze was surprisingly strong. Though it was not a scared squeeze, it was almost reassuring. You were ready to die. You had told him one night; whispered it in the dark. You knew it would be coming, and sooner than you wanted.

“Of course, we are going to die young,” you smile with little mirth. “Think of family we are in.” 

You had only expressed sadness for your children. That you hope when that time comes someone kind will take care of them and prayed, they would remember you as a gentle mother.

What a way it would’ve been to die at the fire of dragon. You, him, his siblings, and his mother… one big happy family.

Aemond decides not to tell you that sometimes he goes in Valaena’s room and just looks. He waits for the paternal instincts to kick in. One day he expects to look and see flashes of himself. As of now all he sees is your eyes. He supposes that is the next best thing. He already must see his brother, and mini version of him that hides behind your skirts.

He has no desire to take care a child right now, and he is not even sure she is his. But to be bound to you another way would be so lovely. So many parts of him are now yours, and vice versa. What is one more?

Aemond is not mad. He finds the whole idea of a mad Targaryen a bit macabre, even for his taste.

But he sees visions of Aegon sitting the throne with you at his side as queen and thinks it would be ok to see King’s Landing up in flames. Even better if he is the one to light the fire.

He saw the way your demeanor instantly shifted. Tending to hurt small folk, telling guards where to go and what to do. There was not a lick of fear in your eyes when someone addressed you as the queen. In fact, Aemond was sure he saw a flicker of glee run through your eyes. He cannot fault the self-serving side of you. He wishes to devour it the way he wishes to devour every other part of you.

You would have never agreed to marry Aegon if this outcome was not a possibility. Giving up a chance to have your name in the history books as Queen and your son as future heir is not an opportunity you would give up. Certainly not for him. Aemond knows Rhaenyra is coming. If not his half-sister, then his uncle will be plotting and planning. So, he will do what he always does. Sit and wait. One eye firmly on his clever girl.

When the spark is finally set, he hopes you two will burn together.

#Aegon… girl dad? #so true #obsessive Aemond? so true #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine

[pshenyasstuff]

Some sketches of my babies and y/n <3

And maybe I'll add a couple of thoughts about this variation.

cooking together

While cooking together, Karaku and Urogi usually do anything, but not cook. Urogi of course tries to help if he is asked about it, but it turns out badly. At least he tries. Karaku just eats and watches the others do something. Aizetsu and Sekido help y/n cook, but it usually ends up with Sekido getting dirty. Aizetsu is fine as long as he is not allowed to cut the onion, because the baby will then cry even more than usual (0((

Zohakuten does not participate in the cooking because he is still too young, but when he grows up he will be happy to help cook <3

Aizetsu

When Aizetsu has a nightmare or is just sad, he comes to you and cuddles with y/n while she cradles him like a baby. In the end they always fall asleep together 🥹

Don't ask me why but I think Aizetsu would watch Maya the Bee or Pororo. Just don't ask.

He probably wouldn't like games that are too violent, so he'd probably play some kind of peaceful and cute games

I don't know about his hobbies, but I think it would be drawing or jigsaw puzzles🤔

Kill me if he doesn't have a lot of soft toys in his room or he's not a fan of Hello Kitty

His mug would look like this:

Urogi

Urogi is definitely the type of child who jumps on his mother from a running start and hugs her tightly, especially when he misses her

He definitely has a little parrot, you can't convince me otherwise. The parrot has a cute name like "Kiwi"<3

I think we can all agree that he is a big fan of birds, so he would watch any bird documentary or bird cartoon

Bro rarely cleans his room unless he is reminded to clean💀

The most active among his brothers, so his hobbies would be related to sports, I guess

He must have had lice at least once in his life😦

His mug would look like this:

Sekido

Sekido doesn't have much affection for y/n at first, but over time he gets used to her and often holds her hand

I think he's the type of kid who watches horror movies at night thinking he's old enough but then bro can't sleep alone so he comes up to y/n saying things like "Ngh, just Karaku keeps me awake with his snoring 😒" and it doesn't matter that they sleep in different rooms

He's not a big fan of hugs, but he doesn't mind hugging occasionally

He is the oldest among the brothers and he loves to lead them. When y/n can't calm them down, Sekido takes on the role of parent.

He mostly gets mad at Karaku and Urogi. "STOP GIVING TROUBLE TO MOM, IDIOTS!"

I think he would be the only one who drinks coffee with y/n in the morning. His mug would look like this. He doesn't really care which mug to drink from as long as no one touches his mug.

Karaku

Fully enjoys kisses on the forehead and cheeks before bed, and he'll be really upset if y/n ever forget to kiss him.

He has such a soothing voice, so if he reads bedtime stories for his younger brothers, then they immediately fall asleep

Karaku watches horror movies with Sekido, but after just a few minutes of the movie, he looks like "😰"

Bro thinks babies are found in cabbage

I think his hobby would also be related to sports, but besides that, he could collect a herbarium

Maybe the type of kid who steals the parent's clothes

His mug would look like this, don't ask me why:

Zohakuten

He doesn't speak much, but for some reason he swears when his older brothers annoy him💀 how does he know these words..

He likes the company of Sekido, Aizetsu or y/n

He always says "mommy y/n" so adorably <3

I think he would be a fan of dragons and dinosaurs. I think he even has a soft toy dragon that he can't sleep without

As I said earlier, he and Sekido sometimes have violent outbursts where he screams and cries at the same time. After such situations, the poor baby asks for hugs on his own.

For some reason he gets jealous when his brothers try to stop him from hugging y/n. (Bro really looks like "😠")

So I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry if there are typos or anything like that.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #hantengu clones #aizetsu #urogi #hantengu clones x reader #karaku #sekido #zohakuten

[wifetomegatron]

this is a half-baked drabble and if i wasn't so burnout from university i would actually have the strength to write something of substance on the topic. but just imagine the lost light having a temporary replacement for the human liaison — who is on a much-needed shore leave — and its the teenage girl they (the liason) have mentored back on earth (considering that there is an academy/institution to train members diplomats working on behalf of the council of worlds ).

clever, overachieving and uptight she had just turned twenty and is currently the youngest intergalactic diplomat from earth. and the council decided to put her under the care of rodimus and co. can you even imagine the chaos?

on the first day, the captain had backflipped into the bridge to kick start her orientation, not expecting the girl to look at him with a brow raised: unimpressed if not appalled by the lack of professionalism. his disappointment was enough to make half the ship erupt in laughter, and ever since then, it had become rodimus' mission to win her over. ( it was also the day the influx of betting began.)

megatron was somewhat impressed at her passivity towards him —her courage borders closer to disinterest, the same way she regards everything outside of her work — if not a little insulted. she doesn't seem to care if she was talking to the mech who wanted to blow up her planet only half a decade ago. as long as he signs the forms to gainher to access the ship's database, he was just another walking, talking authorisation code.

the common opinion was that minimus would be pleased by her diligent work ethic if he wasn't somewhat concerned, and that was rare, coming from him — he sees a lot of himself in her. in a way, she wore her own magnus armor: the cold, serious exterior was evidently a way for her to hide the crippling fear of never being able to measure up. (she fumbles her fingers together in worry and taps her feet against the tables when she thinks no one is looking.)

confident and very much vain, she would always get into heated debates with perceptor. brainstorm enjoys the challenge, finding it amusing how she always ends up storming out of the lab with both arms crossed. the ambitious, know-it-all would always find a way to stubbornly have the final word, even if it meant dragging the argument for weeks on end. which was the birth of the iconic three-month debate that only ended because megatron had to intervene. 

the first ones to truly see her, beneath the cracks and past her line of defenses, were the medics. ratchet knows deep down, underneath the pompous, snobby exterior, she's just afraid. she's afraid of the responsibility shoved into her arms and the burden of representing an entire planet. velocity is in charge of her monthly checkups and she strongly advises against the levels of paracetamol she's taking: knowing that the only solution against the ever-present migraines was for her to unclench her jaws and stop working. and yet the girl is always hunched over the table, typing, writing, studying — first aid doesn't have the slightest clue about coffee and its significance on the human body other than that it keeps them awake. but he knows drinking over five cups a day can't possibly be healthy. 

her prodigious intellect had unknowingly dragged in the interest of prowl — who, for his own opportunistic goals — had offered to mentor her before her arrival aboard the ship. the former autobot prosecutor had used his title during megatron's title to declare himself sufficiently reliable in teaching cybertronian law to her, claiming to be more dependable than even minimus. they had handed her away to him too quickly, without ever remembering that this was the same ruthless mech whose borderline-cruel reputation proceeded him. and so when he called her incompetent over the phone for a single, silly typo, she had burst into tears. pushing past the med bay doors to cry above ratchet's servos.

she cried and cried and cried, and suddenly everyone remembers the fact that she is a child — no more than twenty, which is barely half a lifespan and less than a minute for these titans — held together by the expensive frills of her clothes to hide that they were the only thing holding her together. without her facade, she is lonely and empty, drained to the bone even if the tears don't stop.

ever since then, rodimus had switched his goals up a little, trading it for the ingenious plan to give her the big, stress-free, holiday she'd been too afraid to even dream about. they go on leave for strange, exotic new planets where she can play poker with brainstorm and perceptor instead of arguing about who's smarter. where nautica and riptide help her learn how to surf — the brainiac had mastered it in less than an hour and rodimus being jealous was an understatement. he ignored ratchet's remark on how he was even too heavy to stay afloat on water to begin with. chromedome and rewind takes turn in blocking prowl's attempts at calling her when she's relaxing, going as far as to even 'accidentally' toss the her phone out of airlock. she wasn't very pleased by swerve is doing an excellent job at distracting her with his jokes. even cyclonus was part of the plan, going as far as to teach her how to meditate.

it was working : velocity announces that her weight was back to normal. she starts to laugh more, no longer bothered by the loudness of her joy. the colour returning to her cheeks.

movie nights with tailgate became a weekly routine, and now and then, bots would bend down to ask the tiny human if she had drank water, stretched, or even slept. flustered by the oncoming attention, she was almost overwhelmed when whirl had appeared in the hallways to chase her down with her waterbottle — yelling about how she still had to finish it before the day ended. 

#this reader insert is just my self projection in a heavy coat #transformers #swerve #rodimus #megatron #minimus #chromedome #rewind #whirl #lost light #mtmte #scenario #imagine #drabble #transformers idw #tf imagines #prowl

[beedesigns]

My Favourite VS Code Extensions

This actually started with a conversation about favourite VS Code themes which got me to thinking. But as always I had to be that little bit extra. So, here are a few of my favourite VS Code extensions that I think would be particularly helpful for new coders or folks just starting with VS Code.

These are in no particular order! I've tried to keep the list to extensions that help read your code and make thinsg pretty. There are hundreds of extensions for almost every type of code, but I wanted focus on ones for beginners. Ones that won't encourage you to become too lazy relying on shortcuts. So, with no further ado, here we go:

Colorize

This extension will highlight any colours (hex, rgb, hsl etc) in your code.

Auto Rename Tag

Okay, this one might make you a little bit lazy. Sometimes you need to switch things up, and that can start to get complicated if you're working on a lot of code. This extension will change the opening or closing tag name paired with the one you manually change. It prevents mispellings that will break your code and makes life easier.

Spellcheck

Ever typed heder instead of header? Or justfy-content instead of justify-content? Well, this extension will help pick up on those typos and keep your code clean (and working!).

Indent Rainbow

This is such a small thing, but possibly one of my favourites on the list. Indent rainbow does pretty much what it says on the tin, adding a coloured line down the lefthand side along the indent of your code. It looks pretty and helps easily keep track of where you are.

Color Picker

Who doesn't love beautiful colours? Colour Picker lets you choose all the beautiful colours you could want without having to leave VS Code.

HTML Checker

This extension helps prevent errors by checking your code against the W3C Markup Validation Service searching for errors. Great of avoiding issues further down the line. Useful for beginners and pros alike to be honest.

Rainbow Brackets

I tend to find this one more useful in javascript, but it's good for everything. I used to use another, also called Rainbow Brackets but that's been depricated, and I like the default colours in this one. There are a few, so shop around.

Prettier

This extension forces a set format on your code, keeping things neat and tidy. It can take a little getting used to but the documentation is pretty good. Helps build good habits, keeping things uniform and easy to read.

These are just a few of the ones I've personally got installed. As I mentioned, there are hundreds of different extensions. Many of which will do the same thing. So, make sure you have a look around and find what works best for you!

Which extension would you recommend for a beginner?

#vscode #vscode extensions #codeblr #coding resources #things i like

[ajulisz]

Someone is trying to sell pets to our Lady

Relationship type: You're Alcinas pet

MC Pronouns: They/Them

CW: Slavery (trade, chained - but not you), mention of death, mention of cannibalism, chocking, pet names, collar, some petting for you at the end because you deserve it :)

A/N: Do I still need to mention that you have a dom/sub dynamics outside the bedroom even after all this warnings?

*Althought me and my gf re-read this, good to remind that English is not our first language so there's still probably some typos*

With an eyebrow raise your Lady's eyes snapped from you to the merchant in front of her, it was normal this time of the year for some travelers to request meetings with her, normally she doesn't even look at them, too bored with fiddling with the strings of your collar or amusing herself with their fear to find anything of theirs interesting. But the bare mention of her pets always caused a reaction on her, a kind of possessiveness always took control.

- Hello my Lady, I'm a mere trader, I came from far away because I heard that your... pets, are the most behaved ones.

- Yes, they are. Go straight to the point, what do you have.

- Oh, simply other 'pets', I travel the world collecting and selling them to the best leaders.

She liked the flattering, the immortals trying their best, getting on their knees bowing and begging her for the mercy that only she could concede because it was genuine coming from their fear and admiration. But adulation was out of question, and it was the first and last strike to make her lose interest.

Making them believe that she still cares was simply a fun way to keep them in line while crushing their hope and making it seem like it was their fault.

- Is that so? Why don't you show me then, let me see what you have.

From the chain in the merchants hand he pulled four men in front of him, hitting them on the knees to make them stay on the floor. Moving around he started to point to what clearly once was a muscular man, now was malnourished and had an ugly face which made the Lady's insides move with disgust.

- This is one of my strongest, he-

- Oh please, show me the women and the non binaries, not the men. And let me be the judge, no need for your stained percipience.

With a flush on his face he tugged again with his chain bringing three other people on their knees.

-Yes, I'm sorry my lady. These are the ones that I have.

Your mistress eyes slowly scanned their bodies, not only the men but all the other where in a clearly state of bad care.

- Look at their faces, it looks skinnier than a healthy person should, what kind of master are you?

You were put out of the picture when she was talking, sitting on the floor on the side of her chair like a dog would sit next to its owner.

You never cared to listen to the traders that came much less dared to speak without Dimitrescu's permission. It was how you were trained to do, "don't talk, don't move, don't look, sit still until I give you an order" and she tugged your collar which meant for you to get up.

- Do they know any tricks? Or at least are they obedient? Even my current pet, as you can see, is in a better shape than your strongest man.

The man's mouth opened to say something but he stopped at the moment she raised her eyebrow again with a glare. Your eyes were faithfully looking at her hands, just waiting for the minimum order that always seemed unnoticed to others "that's what makes it magical my pet, don't you think it's more enjoyable to see their shaking knees when you obey me without me using a single word? For them is like I took control of your mind, a fair warning that I could and will the same to them if it pleases me". The lady started speaking.

- You see... pets are mere reflexes of their owners, be a good owner and they will be a good pet, be a sharp owner and they will be submissive and agile. My pet is both of this things, they went through a rough training and made a lot of mistakes in the beginning, but you have to reward them for good behavior and provide their basic needs or they will stop obeying you at certain point... because they will be dead.

There it was, a different movement of hand when she started speaking and you got closer. Her hand was passing through your body tentatively, fingers and pointy nails poking the betweens of your ribbs and finally stopped around you neck.

- Isn't it better when they die for you? When you say just one word and, while they excitedly obey, you are able to see the life fading from their eyes and feel their pulse slowly stopping around your hands?

She said and looked deep in your eyes supporting her face on her hand on the chair arm while a smirk appeared and she started squeezing your neck.

The mans eyes got bigger, he was clearly scared but you couldn't even care enough about him or the others, all you could feel at the moment was your mistress full and overwhelming presence. The lack of air, the control she had on you, all of that made your head dizzy, your fingers slowly crawling up to hers, squeezing it, begging for more.

- I- I'm sorry my lady, it was not my intention to offend you. Bu-but my pets are really obedient, they're just like that because of the extensive travel-

- Shush

The Lady's eyes rolled in annoyance, she have forgotten that the man was still standing there, lost in your breathless lust sounds that kept her in a trance. She stopped holding your neck making you fall to your knees with the weakness and struggle of recovering the air that was denied to you and motioned for you to sit on the floor in front of her. Which you obeyed, crawling to your place.

- I do not see a world where your... slaves, would be a good suit for me, maybe try to make some other fool buy them because a thing in such state is not worth a penny.

- But my la-

- Goodbye.

Her hand slowly moved to your head, and she started scratching the behind of your ear which meant that you could relax, you backed a bit and rested your head on her leg with a satisfied smile and closing your eyes when she got back to petting the top of your head for her own comfort giving a tired sigh.

- Man things get even more imbecile with the years, don't you think little one? Girls! Come here!

A smoke of flies took the whole space around you and your mistress, making three heads peak out of it.

- Yes mother?

- In our path there will be a group of humans, you may hunt and kill the leader but bring back the chained ones, put them in the maids wing, ask the maids to provide them food, water and call Monique so she can attend to their medical needs.

- Consider it done mother.

The girls said giggling and flying to the exit in the same direction of the man which made you open your eyes and you look up at your mistress with a questioning face

- Oh please sweet thing, don't look at me like that, did I not promise you that I would not dispose of you? There ain't no way that Mistress is going to train a human again, too much trouble when I have you in a perfect shape, but at least the girls can have a feast in some months and we can produce new scarecrows for the vineyard with them.

#lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu imagine #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x maiden #alcina dimitrescu imagine #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #alcina x y/n #alcina dimitrescu x maiden

[g3minimars]

very Dom Kyle, pent up Angy boy perhaps...

Omg yes, I live for dom Kyle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Genre - Smut/Angst 🍂🥀

Warnings - MDNI, p in v sex, Dom Kyle, Sub Reader, Hickeys, degradation, bondage, breeding kink, Swearing, Praise, Sexual themes, reader is referred to as Y/N, Kyle being kind of an asshole. All characters are aged up. Please let me know if I missed anything for the warnings, or if there are typos in the story. Enjoy!

Interruptions|Dom!Kyle Broflovski x FSub!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was in the middle of December, which was when Kyle worked the most due to Christmas nearing. You had woken up alone, cooked by yourself, ate by yourself, and even carried all of the groceries in by yourself for a week, and you were getting sick of it. That’s when you decided you’d had enough.

You walked into the room that you and Kyle decided would be his work room in the apartment you both shared. It wasn’t the best, but it was suitable for living in. You walked towards your boyfriend, in which his eyes were glued to his computer, working on whatever work he had. You looked down at him, with dissatisfaction in your eyes. “Kyle.” you said once, him not responding. “Kyle.” you said again with more aggression in your voice. “Yes, love?” he finally spoke. “Can you take a break? I know it’s December and you have a lot of work to do, but can you please spend some time with me?” You asked out of want. No, you asked out of need. “Love, you know I can’t, I’m sorry. I can try and spend some time with you tomorrow night. Just please let me work, okay?” You were pissed. At this point, you didn’t care about his work, about to do something that would change his decisions.

You climbed onto him, taking him by surprise as you lowered yourself onto him in an unexpected area. You whispered his name in his ear with a whiny tone, making the spell he was under more unbearable, but he was strong enough to not get distracted. “Y/N, I told you that I’m working. He said with anger and annoyance in his voice. You completely ignored him, already starting to grind down on him, making him to groan. “Y/N.” You ignored him. “Y/N, stop-.” You ignored him for a second time. “Y/N, I said stop.” He said with pure anger in his voice, just enough to make you stop.

“I told you that I would spend time with you later, didn’t I?” He spat, once again with anger in his voice. “I’m put up with you. You’re not going to get the type of pleasure you wanted now.” He said in a low voice. Leaving his work aside, he harshly picked you up and placed you on your shared bed. “You wanna act like a whore? Then I’ll treat you like one. Kyle said, stripping you bare of your clothing. You had never seen Kyle act this way before, but you weren’t complaining. He tied your hands together and tied them to the top of the bed frame, making it to where you couldn’t go anywhere. Kyle started by giving you hickeys all over. You whimpered under his touch, encouraging him to get rougher with you. Without you realizing at first, Kyle stuck one of his digits in you, resulting in a loud moan from your lips. “Like that don’t you?” He chuckled as he spoke down to you.

Kyle then added two more of his digits into your soaking wet cunt, you were in a sea of pleasure. That was until he stopped pumping them into you. He had pulled out his fingers. You whined at the sudden loss of pleasure. “Kyle...more, please.” You whimpered in the quietest voice possible. “Did I say you could talk?” He said with a glint in his eye. He went into the closet and found a strip of clothing that looked like a blindfold, and made his way back to you. He put the cloth in you mouth and tied it around the back of you head. The cloth muffled your sounds. “In case you try to talk me out of anything.” He said before stripping himself of his own clothes. “Ready?” He asked, not waiting for an answer knowing that you couldn’t speak. He pushed his length into you, taking you by surprise. He started off slowly, not wanting to hurt you, but oh don’t worry he sped up quickly.

“God, you’re so tight. Feels amazing...” Kyle said to himself. On the other hand, you were in just as much pleasure as him, making muffled moans through the cloth around your head. “I’m close, darling. How bout’ you?” You replied with a nod. “You’re doing so well, love. I- I’m gonna cum. Join me?” He said, you just nodded. After another minute of praise, the two of you reached your high. “That was amazing, love. We should do that again sometime.” He said with a smirk. He had never tied you up during sex before, but oh you loved every bit of it. Kyle took the cloth out of your mouth and put it to the side before untying your hands. Kyle was about to go get a cloth to clean you up like this was normal, but you leaped and caught his mouth in the cloth he used to tie around your head. “Oh no you don’t. We still have unfinished business, pretty boy.” You said before tying his hands to the bed frame.

The both of you were in for a long night.

-g3minimars

Thank you all for reading this! It took a while, but I’m now on winter break and I got a new keyboard for Christmas, so I will now be able to write more stories for you all. I hope you all have a good rest of your day!

#south park #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x reader #my writing #slight angst #smut #mature #kyle broflovski #g3minimars #18+ mdni #mdni #december

[bethanydelleman]

What do you think Caroline and Darcy's dynamic was like, exactly? I get the feeling he never considered marrying her, and he doesn't strike me as the type to lead a woman on, especially not his best friend's sister. However, she's very obviously going for him, and they feel familiar enough to each other to be catty together. It seems like a delicate line to walk, not giving her hope while enjoying the company of a somewhat like-minded woman.

The only thing I can think of is he's hiding behind social convention, a.k.a he's supposed to make advances, she's supposed to respond, so *her* advances don't bind him to anything, don't count, but that seems... mean-spirited, especially to a woman he's close to, and to the sister of his best friend. He's caring at heart I don't like the idea of him brushing off playing with the Bingleys' expectations on a technicality.

While a lot of people in Austen's novels spend their time doing nothing but predicting matches, the members of the gentry did spend a lot of time together through visits and they talked to each other without motive. Look at Colonel Brandon and Elinor Dashwood, they have a pretty good friendship with no intention of marrying each other. We know that even pre-Harriet, Emma invited Mr. Elton over frequently and considered it just a social visit (I'm sure he was cautiously flirtatious). It was also common to have people just come and visit your house for several months. It wasn't mandatory to marry any single girl in the house after your visit!

I've always felt that Darcy might have been considering marrying Caroline before he met Elizabeth. A friend told me once that the first time she read the novel she thought Darcy and Caroline were a couple. But even if he wasn't, he doesn't reciprocate her advances but he enjoys her company, and I think that's the best he can do. Caroline seems happy to wait until he comes around and sees the light, whilst making it very clear that she's interested.

Darcy does make a fairly pointed statement about not liking women who scheme during the novel. He also treats Caroline and Louisa basically the same: dancing and gossiping with both of them which is a hint as well. I think that for Caroline, the possible prize is just way too big for her to stop if there is the smallest shred of hope. Also, I bet most women treat Darcy like Caroline does no matter how he acts, so he's kind of in a no win situation.

Charles never seems offended on his sister's behalf and Caroline drops all resentment to keep her all-access pass to Pemberley. I think Darcy probably knew that Caroline had no real heart to lose in the matter so he didn't feel too badly about being a mean girl with her.

Edit: thank you for catching the typo that implied single men had to marry all single women, my friend.

#question response #thanks for the ask! #caroline bingley #fitzwilliam darcy #pride and prejudice #It's not like a man couldn't hang out with people #Otherwise he'd basically have to be a hermit