#and I DIG how bass heavy this track is
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𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗧 k. hj
김홍중 | playboy!kim hongjoong x afab!reader
smut, light angst, fluff
synopsis: much like recycled stardust, no matter how far you drift from hongjoong, you'll always find your way back into his arms.
cw: university!au, deliberate lower case, smut, angst, fluffy ending, reader has feminine attributes, ex boyfie joong, push-and-pull kind of relationship, it's not toxicity i promise, hongjoong's a little bit ooc, brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, making out, pet names (baby, princess, joong(ie)), empty threats
wc: 5.7k
𝗮/𝗻: first tumblr fic ! this might be kind of messy ?? i'm still in the learning process of everything lol
inspired by: i'm yours (isabel larosa)
sw: unprotected sex, switch!joong, switch! reader, desperate make up sex/kind of hate sex?, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, i really did try to start this blog off with a soft fic but i couldn't help myself
"-you'll come, right?"
just a normal interaction, is what you kept telling yourself. it's nothing special, nowhere near the sort. just a conversation. nothing out of the ordinary.
that's what it would have been if kim hongjoong, your ex boyfriend, hadn't been the one to stop you in the middle of the road to convince you it'd be a good idea to attend his party next saturday. because i mean come on. sex? alcohol? ket? shrooms? please. that's child's play.
but how he's so relaxed around you cognisant of the long history the two of you share, you'll never know.
"i would but.." your witless muttering isn't doing anything for you other than digging your grave. his keen gaze makes your palms sweat; is it the comical height difference or the general attention he seems to be adamant to give you?
"come on," he whines. "i could convince anyone else in the world other than you to go. why do you always make it so difficult?" "not my thing," you should know that, is what you would have liked to add. "sorry." making tracks however, obviously wasn't justifiable in his books. immediately reaching for your wrist, you don't make it much further than two steps before he locks you back in his gaze.
"come on, y/n," "i don't-" "please? i'd really like you to be there." your eyes snap up to his, and the way he looks at you so enticingly makes you want to crawl up into a ball and die.
you hate the fact that he has you in the palm of his hand. especially because he knows it too.
"my ass." you mumble, shoving past another group of people. you're sweating, trying to weave yourself through the crowds of intoxicated young adults mingling, drinking and swaying to the music. you hate it. you hate it so much it's unbearable.
your friends squeeze you into a mini dress and cake you in makeup, just to leave you five minutes into the party to fuck some junkie they'll never talk to ever again. and kim hongjoong? he's nowhere to be found.
your entire being reverberates in time with the heavy bass line of whatever fusion afro beats were playing in the living room. in times like these, the kitchen becomes your safe haven; surrounded by countless bottles of alcohol for you to mix and match as you wish, only seeing the occasional person enter who'd greet you and refill their cup.
you wince when you begin to find the music has become much more bass accelerated, and you decide you need a breather. you would have guessed hongjoong would have retreated upstairs with a girl by now. you guess wrong, however, when your eyes briefly meet his in the midst of the sea of bodies.
his eyes are wide, puppy like, vivid colours reflecting in his pupils. he looks at you expectantly, ignoring the people trying to catch his recognition left and right. he opens his mouth, as if about to say something, before a girl tugs on his arm, sidetracking his attention again.
you keep your head low, shaking it as you run a hand through your hair. you make it through the living room, the foyer through to the dining room, and make a quick move to lock yourself in the bathroom noticing it's vacancy.
the door acts as a soundproof wall, concealing you from all the commotion, the chaos. what was the point of showing up anyway? you had false hope - nothing was going to happen between the two of you even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged.
in truth, kim hongjoong is a coward. it doesn't matter how hard he tries to deny it, it's simply his thing. he makes a move, poised and mighty. but once the conviction begins to fade he shrivels into nothing more than a drop in the ocean, and hides his uneasiness by picking up another side chick. one moment he loves you, the next, he doesn't.
you shake your head, hands resting on either side of the sink. your heart is racing rapidly, and you feel pathetic. you feel pathetic because you know that your cheeks are red because of him. your palpitating heart is because of him. your thighs pressing together is all because of him.
you hate him, is what you keep telling yourself. you hate him and his reckless actions, his arrogance, his popularity, his likeability, his devilish smile, his handsome face, his perfect body- fuck. that's not it. you don't hate him. you hate how much you love him, how deeply you fell for his charms.
your index finger drags along your aegyo sal, wiping away smudged mascara and eyeliner. your eyes settle in the mirror dragging over your worn expression, and you sigh. it'd probably be best if you left before it got too late.
you jump slightly when there are a few desperate bangs at the door. "c'mon! gotta fuckin' piss-" you snatch your phone from the shelf, frantically unlocking the door and pushing it open, running off before you could face any confrontation.
maybe you were just a coward too.
you immediately approach the adjacent door which leads to the garden. reaching for the handle, you swing it open and slam it closed behind you before anyone else could follow. your back rests against the cool glass, and you exhale softly, finally being able to find some peace and quiet in the midst of the clamour.
you catch your breath, pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening it to call an uber.
"i was almost convinced you weren't gonna show."
your eyes clamp shut. make it a nightmare. make it some sort of weird twisted dream. maybe someone spiked your drink - perhaps you were just hallucinating.
you blink once, twice, before hongjoong's index finger catches your chin. "hey. look at me." you can barely pick out his features, the dim lights emitting from the inside of his dining room just barely illuminating his cheekbones. "stop-.. running, from me.." he sighs out at the sight of your uncomfortable facial expression, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. he continues, before you can stop to think, "i try to talk to you, we give it a go, you regret ever giving it a go and run off, and this whole cycle repeats itself." his hands drift to your shoulders, down your sides before finding welfare on your hips. "and i don't think that's fair.."
his soft and rich tone makes your shoulders relax, and your head leans back, gently bumping against the door. "talk to me." you pull yourself together and shake your head, pushing him off you. "you talk like it's just me doing all the running. that's pretty ballsy coming from you," the way he looks at you tells you he knows that. better than anyone else. "and why does it matter anyway. go back inside, it's your party. bet your side chick's already waiting for you."
to your dismay, his hands reach for you again. he ignores your snarky comments, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, forehead bumping against yours. his eyes are large; doe-like. they're nothing short of innocent, but you're not blind to the small flames kindling within his pupils.
"i want to know why you're ignoring me. why you've stopped loving me so abruptly." his eyes fall shut and his eyelashes tickle your forehead. "otherwise i might have to make you tell me.." he tilts his head ever so slightly, soft, pillowy lips brushing against yours. "hongjoong.." your voice only comes out in the form of a whisper, and it makes hongjoong nod softly. "shh baby.. i've got you, it's okay."
"i don't-" "what happened, y/n? just abruptly telling me you're breaking up with me and then avoiding me for weeks on end isn't you. you're better than this!" "you're not right for me, hongjoong!" shit. that came out wrong. like that, the flames in his pupils douse. hongjoong's shoulders droop and his hands fall, but his eyes stay glued to yours. "no," you shake your head, rephrasing. "i'm not right for you."
"what makes- what makes you say that?" "listen to me closely, hongjoong." he wished you'd use his name in a brighter light. "i'm not right for you." "you're repeating the same shit but you're not telling me what it fucking means!" he rips away from you, a hand tugging through his hair. "what the fuck happened?! i thought we were doing well i-, i made sure you knew i loved you and i tried to make time for you-" "that's my problem! you're too busy- you've got no time for me! you've got dance, singing, producing, all these fucking parties! where does that leave me? does it make me love you any less? no! but i can't afford to be neglected by you!"
hongjoong's mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to wrack his brain for something- anything! but deep down he knows you're right. he's busy, he can barely catch a break. and then off he goes throwing parties when he should be spending time with you. but somehow, 90% of what you say goes through one ear and out the other-
"you still, love.. me?" you scoff. "of course i do. but i just.. think it's better if you move on an-" "why do i have to move on when i haven't lost anything?" a smile grows on his face, and he grips your wrists excitedly. "i- i thought you hated me! and-" "are you not grasping anything i'm saying right now!" you yell over his excited yapping. "i'm saying!-" he quiets down to a soft pause. "-..you need to find someone who suits your needs better."
you barely register his sudden movements as he bursts forward, taking your cheeks in his hands as he slams his lips against yours. his eyes roll back as he sighs into your mouth. god how he's missed the feeling. he presses his body flush against yours, revelling in the feeling of, well, you. your addictive lips, your sleek hair, your compelling curves, he basks in you.
you try to break away, but your body seems to have other plans, arching into him. "hongjoong-" it's not longer than a second before he once again encapsulates your lips with his. you try to make out a sentence between desperate kisses. "we- .. we- shouldn't-" his front teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls you nice and tight against him, just the way you like it.
you would have made more of an effort to flee if it didn't feel so fucking good. his hands never cease to wander your body like it's an uncharted island in the pacific ocean. if they're not massaging your waist, they're sliding up and down your exposed back. if they're not sliding up and down your exposed back, they're groping your ass. he just can't get enough of you- of how intoxicating you are.
"hongjoong for fucks sak-" "shh." he smirks softly against your lips. he knows that bit by bit, little by little, you're giving in to him. or more, the idea of him. you melt into his hold, whining a little at an attempt to show your frustration. but he just coos mockingly, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. your right leg naturally hikes up against his hip, and he holds it in place with his vacant hand. "so good for me," his lips part and he kisses your nose. "such a good girl."
you can't believe this is happening. you're internally sour, trying to search for any reason left in this bottomless pit of lust you're drowning in. you can feel it rising inside of you, and it'll swallow you up eventually.
you don't think you've ever wanted him so bad. in fact, you don't think you've ever wanted anyone as badly as you do right now. you have to have him. otherwise it might just eat you alive.
"do you want-.." he's breathless, making sure your eyes never leave his. he's stuttering over his words, suddenly finding himself shrink under your gaze; it almost makes you smile. "uh- no pressure, by the way i-" your finger gently drags along the surface of his lip, deep red nail getting caught in the dip between them. you whisper softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "let's go."
sneaking away could have definitely been easier if hongjoong didn't always blatantly stick out like a neon highlighter in a tub of black markers. man of the hour or not, he can't help being stopped and pinched into conversations left and right and your patience is thinning. "hongjoong.." you mumble, and he nods profusely towards you in apology, excusing himself to his mates and bidding them a good night.
"aye! hongjoong, over here!" "hey guys!-" you pinch his elbow, pressing your lips to his ear. "go over to one more person and you'll get it." he feels himself twitch in his pants, but he just rolls his eyes and smiles at you with a satirising tone. "c'mon babe!~ it's 3RACHA! i can't just ignore 3RACHA!" he tries to shake away the thoughts nagging him to turn back in his head, releasing his arm from your wrist and jogging towards them. so much for not neglecting me. your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, and you swing back around, making a beeline for the stairwell.
you're aware of hongjoong's strict rule of the second floor being prohibited during parties, but regardless of it you sneak past the numerous couples humping one another in the hallway, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom.
you exhale softly with your forehead pressed to the door, hand resting on the golden handle. you shouldn't be this nervous. it's only been a few months, you used to spend more time here than you did in your own apartment. but once you step into the room and shut the door, the overwhelming scent of him leaves you dumbfounded. your shaky hand drifts to the handle in a moment of diffidence, but you shake your head, and do nothing more than wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your dress.
you kick off your heels, feet dragging along the the off-grey carpet flooring as you trail over to his king sized bed. the satin sheets are cold against your lower thighs, and your hands gently grip the lush material. your eyes drift over his walls as you slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress: his desk, his wardrobe, nothing had changed. however, what does catch your eye is a bottle of your signature perfume on his shelf, nearing its last millilitres.
you have your suspicions, bringing his pillow up to your nose. you sigh softly at the faint smell of your perfume lingering all over it. you haven't used that brand since you were last here all those months ago. you shimmy off the rest of your dress leaving you in your red lace lingerie, and you stride over to the shelf and pick up the small glass bottle. you flick the cap off with your thumb, and spritz the scented spray all over your body and the sheets.
laying back into the duvet, you feel your core throb with wanting and need as the aged memories invade your mind. your hands wander, just like his. they trace your curves the way he would, almost like it's muscle memory. "mh, joong.." you whisper to yourself as your back arches off of the mattress, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side.
your hands fondle your breasts, and you let out the softest moan as your thumbs brush over your perky nipples. "hongjoong.." you whine the tiniest bit louder, hands hooking into your underwear and sliding them down your spread legs. sighing, your index and middle finger slip themselves between your folds, pushing them apart and lathering your wetness all over the digits. they slowly trace around your clit as you snatch your phone from the bedside table.
you would have never thought you'd be doing this again, but you open his archived chat left inactive for 5 months and click the camera in the bottom left corner. this was risky, and you'd be most likely to regret it. but nonetheless you begin recording, and whine softly into the phone. you feign innocence, pinching your clit softly between your fingers before you insert them both inside you. you gasp as you release an over exaggerated moan before hitting the send button.
you wait with a satisfied look on your face, watching one tick turn into two, from grey to blue. at that, your phone is forgotten, and your eyes flutter closed as you give your undivided attention to yourself.
hongjoong is becoming desperate. having to act like he didn't almost cream his pants at the sight of your wet pussy through his phone screen was tougher than he had originally imagined. he tucks his phone into his back pocket, trying to subtly adjust the baggy jeans hanging on his hips. while jisung and changbin eagerly talk to him, his eyes daintily drift to the side, catching seonghwa's gaze from the pool table.
seonghwa tilts his head, and hongjoong pats the side of his leg before tucking his index, middle and ring finger into his palm to form a phone sign. he holds it for two seconds before focusing back on the conversation he's having.
he thanks seonghwa indebtedly when it doesn't take much more than a blink of an eye before his phone vibrates in his back pocket. "sorry, i have to take this," he's apologetic, gesturing towards his phone. "have a good night guys!" he gives seonghwa a pat on the shoulder as he passes by, and seonghwa returns the gesture with a wink.
he can't resist himself as he walks through the hallway, opening the video again and feeling his cock throb violently in the confines of his jeans. he practically sprints up the stairs when you send another text: "you better hurry up or i'm leaving." it was a lie, obviously. hongjoong knew it too. but that didn't stop him from becoming overly eager.
he bursts through the door, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at the sight of three fingers plunging in and out of your pussy, presented proudly out in the open for only his eyes to see, the erotic squelching sounds become apparent when he closes the door: "what took you so long," you sigh out accompanied by a breathy moan. "i'm sorry baby." he mumbles, already reaching for his belt as he kneels at the bed, unbuckling it and tossing it to the side.
"you should be," you pull your fingers out, using your clean hand to pull him into a sloppy, open mouthed, all teeth and saliva, kiss. "i'm expecting compensations." he pulls back with a grin, tugging his black tank top over his head. "of course, princess."
his knees straddle your hips, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. with his jeans already hanging so low on his hips, your feet make a move to slide them off to his ankles, he finishes the job off, discarding them on the floor. the beautiful, overbearing scent of your perfume makes him shiver, and he grips the sheets on either side of you, striving ever so hard as not to completely lose control of himself. he wants to take this slowly with you, enjoy the moment of finally having you back in his arms again.
or at least that's what he would have liked, but it seems you had other plans. "so, you gonna fuck me or what?" you exhale, arching up into him when his lips find your pebbled nipple, suckling gently as his hand gropes your unattended tit. he supposes he could wait to take it slow another time.
"patience," he grins, drifting down to your pelvis, deciding this is where he wanted to leave his mark. "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he nips, sucks, kisses, littering red, lip sized marks all over your pubic bone, making sure they would last at least a few days. your hand reaches down to grip his gelled back hair, and he groans softly as you tug on the strands. your legs spread as he makes himself comfortable between them, and he swears he almost cums in his boxers when your ankle moves to the back of his head, violently shoving him into your wet pussy.
he moans out, arms wrapping around your thighs as his lips make contact with your clit. you taste better than he ever remembers. sweet yet salty, flavourful, delicious. "mmh, that's good.." you whisper softly, and the praise makes hongjoong ever the more motivated to pleasure you. "am i good for you baby?" you grin and nod softly. "so good." he smirks and coats his index and middle finger in your slick before pushing them into your already stretched out hole.
and you know the second that his fingers, longer than yours, push and curl into you combined with his tongue lapping away at your clit, that you won't last long. more of your slick drips out and onto hongjoong's hand; you can't remember the last time you were so desperate. "missed you so much baby." he whines out, unable to resist rolling his hips once, twice, into the mattress, trying to alleviate the aching in his boxers. "so- so good hongjoong- shit," you stutter out in between gasps and whines, feeling that familiar pit in your pelvis when his fingers drill themselves against your g-spot.
the long suck to your nub that follows straight after is what throws you over the edge. you're just tinkering on the edge of an orgasm, and you know it when your legs begin to shake. "hongjoong! hongjoong- please! oh god- oh fuck i'm cumming," you thrash around, legs wrapping themselves around his head and suffocating him in your pussy.
hongjoong feels his hard cock positively twitch and leak like a broken faucet as translucent, salty liquid leaks out of you and onto his stuck out tongue. he hums appreciatively, chest puffing up with pride when he realises he made you cum with just his fingers and tongue. faster than ever before, too. he makes the lewdest slurping sounds with his tongue, drinking you up as if he were a feral, famished man. at this point, he might as well be one.
"good?" he asks with a toothy smile, his sharp canines peaking out through his swollen lips. "so good. so good for me, joongie.." you whisper to him, running a hand through his hair before tightening it, curling and tugging him towards you. his lips meet yours in a kiss much gentler than any of the ones exchanged earlier, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. your hands reach down to feel around the wet patch of his pre-cum on the front of his boxers, and you make a fast move to tug them down his legs, tossing them to the side before pulling him into your arms. "think you deserve a reward, baby?"
he nods so eagerly, you swear you see a tail wagging behind him as he hums keenly. "yeah?" you croon, enjoying watching him become desperate to please you and himself too. he doesn't even make an effort to hide how eager he is to slip into you and fall into a deep abyss of euphoria, brain filled with nothing other than praise and pleasure - and maybe a little white noise too. "what does my baby want?"
"to cum.." he mumbles, leaning down to nibble at your neck while his cold fingers drift down to where he had left his bruises on you, tracing them lovingly. it was almost primal, to him. to see you marked up. it reminded him that you truly did belong to him. "wan' make you cum too- wanna cum inside.." he twitches when your hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock. "i'm so fuckin' hard.. i wanna fuck you so fuckin' bad, baby." he begs breathlessly, thrusting up into your hand for more friction.
"you're so lucky i love you," you mutter under your breath, and his breath hitches as his dick simultaneously twitches in response. his stomach erupts into butterflies, but he tries to suppress the mushy feelings for the post-orgasm conversation he knows he'll end up having with you whether you like it or not.
"you really are just leaking aren't you? so messy." you tease, thumb swiping over his slit and he curls into you with a hiss, eyes falling shut. "sensitive today, are we?" you mumble, twisting your fist around his cock head again to draw another reaction from him. "been hard all day," he admits, head falling into the crook of your neck. "wanted to wait so i could fuck you." you shake your head with a chuckle. "so bold to automatically assume i'd let you fuck me."
hongjoong honestly believes he sees the gates of the afterlife appear in front of him when he finally feels your wet heat press against his cock. you drag your folds up and down the base of him, using a mixture of your cum, slick and his leftover saliva to lubricate him. "w-well i'm here now, aren't- aren't i?" you sigh, guiding his tip to your sopping hole. "eh, i guess so." your palms rest against his back when you slam his hips down onto you in one harsh movement. hongjoong's breath is knocked out of him at the unexpected movement, and his fingers grip your hips as he whines loud. "oh fuck-!"
you've missed him so badly. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart, you have him fully. you hum, head dropping back into the satin pillows. "that's it.. i've missed you, joong. missed this big cock so much." you don't think your cunt could ever get used to the delicious stretch his cock provides you with, with or without fingers beforehand. he just reaches that particular spot inside you that nobody else ever could, and it drives you absolutely mad with adoration.
but what snaps you out of your bliss is that you realise hongjoong has no plans of moving. his head just stays dipped into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist so hard the skin will positively bruise, panting hard. "hello?" you mumble, poking the side of his head. he grumbles out something unintelligible, and it makes you sigh, propping yourself up onto your elbows. "this pussy's not gonna fuck itself, is it?" your question is more rhetorical, but it makes hongjoong wince. "c-can't." his voice is strained, and you have an idea of why, yet you still choose to prod further. "what do you mean, 'you can't'?"
"feels too good.." he whispers, and you grin. admittedly, hongjoong is indeed, a very busy man. jobs, producing, lectures, dance classes, clubs, parties, he's everywhere doing everything all at once. but the most critical aspect of it all, was that he was loyal to you. he hadn't kissed, touched, or fucked a single other person since he last had you, holding onto that small slither of hope that he could win you back when the time was right.
that, however, now leaves him in a sticky - no pun intended - situation where he knows that if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll drain his balls within minutes of fucking you. "oh? poor baby.." you feign innocence, just for a few seconds before your legs wrap around his hips, beginning to grind up onto him in search of your own friction. "that's too bad."
hongjoong yelps, trying to ground himself by fisting his duvet into a death grip, little whimpers making it past his sealed lips. your hands take a hold of his hips, aiding you in your movements. "you gonna help me now, or what?" you grit out, and all he can do is shake his head frantically, bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "i- i'll cum baby- i can't!-" "so what? cum or not, we're not stopping until i do." he exhales shakily.
"so are you gonna be a good? or will i have to go find someone else who can fuck me right?" hongjoong grits his teeth, shaking his head and putting all of his body weight on you until you come to a stop, he experiments, thrusting up once, twice, before mumbling a soft: "okay.". you rub his back gently, whispering in return: "come on.."
the sudden snap of his hips catches you off guard. you squeak, hands frantically reaching for his biceps to ground yourself. "shit! th- that's it hongjoong! ngh-" he nods frantically, yanking your knees up to your chest to thrust even deeper. he groans, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to focus on how gorgeous you look beneath him, or how slick the sounds between you are, or how good your pussy feels, or how badly he wants to fucking cum.
he sets a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass with every deep, meaningful thrust into you. "atta boy.. ohh baby i-" you gasp out, feeling the pad of hongjoong's thumb press down on your clit, rubbing up and down in synchronisation with his thrusts.
he pants hard and desperately it's almost concerning, lips parted and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck. you arch up into him, breasts pressing flush against his bare chest. your rhythmic clenching, the borderline salacious amount of wetness inside of you, the raking of your nails on his back, it's almost too much for him.
the longer he pursues you, the more he realises that he in fact, cannot wait, and will cum. he had tried not to too early, truly! but he had been close the second he walked into the damn room, and the amount of different versatile sensations he has no choice but to feel drive him over the edge. "baby- i can't- i can't i-" your legs wrap themselves around his hips, locking him in. "it's okay baby. go on. cum for me. fill me up."
with that, he's gone. you don't think you've ever seen him behave this way in the years you've known him. "oh godd yes- yes yes yes-" he's lewd, and he puts professional pornography to shame. the way he presents himself is obscene, head thrown back, eyes rolled into them. a staggered groan escapes him as he comes undone, his seed flowing inside of you as he gently rocks his hips, knuckles whiter than white with the pressure he's putting on the pillows either side of your head. you guide him through his orgasm, petting his hair softly.
his back glistens with beads of sweat among the moles and freckles dotted along his shoulder blades, and they flex as his arms slowly yet surely move to wrap around your torso. he exhales, nuzzling into you as he catches his forfeited breaths back.
you supposed that if he were unable to continue, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. it was even between the two of you now, and you were both correspondingly satisfied. you reach down and grip the base of him that isn't enveloped inside of you, and can't even begin to attempt to suppress the grin on your face when you realise he's still hard. "not satisfied yet, are you?"
he's about to defend himself, promise you he's not as filthy as he presents himself to be. but there's no need for it, seeing as you give him no time to rest before you climb on top of him, and start rocking your hips. and honest to god, hongjoong has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.
he's being used like a toy, and he loves it. but at the same time he isn't sure if you want him to help you or if he should take it, so many thoughts rushing through his mind but in reality he's just trying to stall so he doesn't cum again. he's a ragdoll in your arms, the pleasure he had been feeling a few seconds ago returning in an instant with a new found sensitivity, your pussy even wetter with his cum. he ever so desperately wanted to take back the dominance between the two of you, he knew he could do it. but the most he could do to even voice a reaction was curse loudly, cry out and throw his head back.
he takes it back. completely. there was no way he could do anything other than accept it without any objections. it was everything he had ever wanted and more, there was nothing going on in his mind other than perpetual euphoria.
"fuck i'm close," you whisper, cursing in approval when hongjoong's index and middle finger work at your clit in time with your bounces. "c-cum for me? cum for me baby?" hongjoong's eyes brim with tears, a mix of sentimentality and overstimulation. you nod frantically, finally letting the knot in your gut come loose, letting out a wail as your orgasm washes over you.
he whines softly at the feeling of you gushing around him, and he cums a second time. he fills you up again with a groan through gritted teeth, in smaller spurts with less amount than the first. you pant, falling limp on top of him with a grunt. "that was good," you hum, hand moving to trace his collarbone.
hongjoong's arms come to encircle around your waist, pressing you close to his chest as he begins to soften inside of you, making no move to pull out. he kisses your temple, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, caressing your dishevelled head of hair. hongjoong has never felt such relief as he does holding you, your body feeling just right with his, and he can't help but think to himself..
"i love you." he blurts out. the confession is rushed, panicked and hesitant. you feel his body tense up the moment he registers he's said it, but you just smile against his chest, poking him in the rib. "you're okay i guess." not getting the answer he wants, he groans. "princess.." his tone is whiny, and you giggle, sitting up to plant a passionate kiss to his lips.
"i'm joking, joong. i love you too."
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#⋆｡°✩ star's fics#ateez#kim hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong x reader#hongjoong smut#ateez fanfiction#ateez smut#ateez x reader#hongjoong fanfiction#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong hard thoughts#ateez au
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HELLO I'm back on my horny agenda bestie<3 Christopher. Fucking. Bang. that's it. jk I found THIS on twt and my brain immediately malfunctioned. AND THE WAY THAT IT'S ACTUALLY CHAN oml just imagine riding him while he's all stressed from songwriting. letting you totally spoil him and do all the work until his brain is just 😵💫😵💫. I need in my life ugh
you caught me on a sub chan day so. i hope this is all you wanted it to be l o l
SMUT BELOW THE CUT - MINORS DNI
the problem with a small apartment is that you can hear everything.
so when you hear a thud against the wall of chan’s home office, it didn’t take long to connect the dots. he had a deadline, he had been in their for hours. you’re honestly surprised you didn’t hear an “outburst” earlier.
sock clad feet padded against the hardwood, the soft noise drowned out by the heavy bass coming from the room. when your fingers touched the door knob, it was vibrating, no doubt from the volume of the music. not wanting to scare him by slipping in unannounced, you knocked on the door. “channie?”
a frustrated “huh?” was grunted over the music, and you took that as an okay to entered. what you saw made your heart sink; chan in his favorite black hoodie, elbows propped up on the table and his head hanging in his sweater paws. you saw his shoulders shake a bit, dark curls out of control from him constantly running his fingers through them. he was reaching a breaking point.
you grabbed the back of his chair, gently rolling him out from the desk. “my love.” you softly whisper, watching as his arms dropped and let his head hang sadly. moving between the desk and him, you slipped into his lap, arms wrapping around his shoulders. chan immediately melts under your touch, heavy head burying itself on your shoulders. you pet down the curls, trying to get them under control. “when’s the last time you took a break?”
he sighed, and you knew you weren’t going to like his answer. “i haven’t.”
you hum, not wanting to scold him when he’s this fragile. “baby you can’t go nonstop like this. it’s not good. you’ll burn out.”
chan rolls his head on your shoulder so he can look up at you. his large eyes scream exhausted, eyebrows furrowed sadly. “but i have to get this done. work needs-“
“work can wait.” your hands move to his face, cupping it to hold it upright. “your sanity is more important.”
you’re right - he knows it, even if he hates hearing it. “‘m just really frustrated, and stressed. nothing sounds…right.”
while having a hard time believing it, you understood. he’s been living in this rhythm today, obsessively tweaking the track and the lyrics to the point where it seems like nothing he does is working. he needs to step back from it, needs to take mental break.
“do you want me to listen to the track? or do you want me to try to help?”
his hands rest on your waist, twirling your top in his hands. “just need a distraction.” he whispers, eyes fixated on your lips.
there’s no need to ask what he wants. it’s obvious from his stare to the semi he’s sporting under his cotton shorts. still, it wouldn’t be fair of you to take advantage of him in this state, so you ask for clarification. “what kind of distraction? do you want to take a walk? do you need a snack? or do you want me to take care of my baby boy?”
he whimpers, nuzzling into the hands still holding his face. “need you.” grinding up, you’re now aware of how hard he’s gotten just in the passing seconds.
and you’re always ready to take care of him.
it escalates slowly. starting with sweet kisses, letting his lazily taste you while you rub him outside of his shorts. then it moves to shedding hoodies and shirts, bare chests pressed together and chan swears that feeling your skin against his is all the stress relief he needs. soon, bottoms are shed, and his head is rolled back against the desk chair as you slowly sink onto his length.
you sit still for a moment, eyes shut with a smile on your face as you adjust to his girth. his nails are digging into your hips, bottom lip pulled in as he savors the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him. your eyes flutter open, taking in the sight before you. chan always looks so handsome, but like this, he’s so ethereal. so pretty and delicate, needing to love and be loved by you.
“i love you.” you whisper, lifting your hips up before slowly sinking back down. chan whimpers, moans high pitched and borderline whiny as you set the pace. leaning forward, you kiss his jaw, praises spilling from your lips. “you look so pretty like this, honey. my sweet, pillow prince, always letting me take care of him.”
he nods, releasing his bottom lip. “love you.” when he lifts his head, you can see his eyes watering just a bit. “i love you so much-“
you shush him, placing a peck to his lips as you pick up the tempo slowly. “i know.” he chases your lips, begging for another kiss, and there’s nothing you want more than to indulge him in all his wants. it’s not long before you feel his cock twitching, his breaths increasing as he reaches the edge. “baby boy need to cum?”
he can barely speak, nodding aggressively as a string of incoherent begs fall from his lips. and that’s the last thing you want - for him to beg for something he’s always allowed to have.
“fill me up, channie. show me how good i made you feel.”
i am…broken.
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Perception of Prog Through the Ages: Why Has it Been So Often Derided?
My first introduction to progressive rock was in 2017, around 50 years after its original emergence, and around 40 since it was “killed” by punk. It was November, and I was 11, going on 12. I had been attempting to learn guitar for around two weeks with my Dad— a bonding activity after my parents had announced they were getting divorced in August of that year. While hanging out with him in his basement exile, he introduced to me this song by some guys called Rush— although to call it a song is a bit of a misnomer, because songs are, well, sung. He played “YYZ” for me on his phone, and I was completely taken aback. Prior to that, I had been brought up on Top 40 pop music of the 2000s and 2010s, so I kept asking him when the lyrics would come in, because it hadn’t even occurred to me that a rock band could make an instrumental track! That alone intrigued me, and then my Dad showed me a cover of someone playing “YYZ” on bass. That intrigue turned to obsession, and in that moment, I became a bassist and a Rush fan.
Seeing that I had taken so well to “YYZ”, my Dad took it upon himself to dig out his old Rush CDs, and then I was introduced to “2112”. I can’t even begin to describe what that was like. I was a big reader back then, and seeing someone combine that sort of storytelling with music was a life-changing experience for me. All I knew is that I needed more. Through the next couple years, I went through every single Rush album that my Dad owned (they’re all mine now!), and I began to expand upon both my Rush collection, and the genre that they were labeled as: “progressive rock”. I started spending more time online, especially during the pandemic, and was familiarized with different names associated with the progressive rock genre: Yes, Rush, ELP, Genesis, Jethro Tull, Pink Floyd, and so many others. I naturally started listening to these bands as well, and fell in love with several. How could I not, when such music appealed to my ambitious nature and the dreamer in me?
However, during the post-pandemic period I started learning about the unfortunate associations prog has attained during its 5-decade existence: that it’s pretentious, aloof, and quite frankly embarrassing to some people! Some of the most prominent musicians of the prog genre even distance themselves from the label; treating it like an unfortunate phase.
But why? Why has prog gotten this self-indulgent, ostentatious, and pretentious reputation?
In order to determine why prog has been accused of these things, one must first examine what prog is: its origins, its development, the people involved, and what exactly constitutes “progressive rock”.
From the Beginning: The Origins of Prog
The origins of what came to be known as progressive rock could theoretically be traced back to the origins of classical music, as progressive rock was heavily inspired by orchestral music from the 17th through 20th centuries. However, despite the influence of classical music, it is still a rock sub genre, therefore the story of progressive rock really begins with the story of rock.
Rock grew out of folk music, with a heavy R&B and blues influence, and originated from Black artists in the American South. Rock and Roll’s potential for marketability (from the perspective of White record executives) came from White performers adapting this art to a White audience, in the form of commercialized rebellious teen anthems that were often 3 minutes or less. This occurred in the 1950s, which saw an explosion of this type of music, which then began to be exported overseas, specifically to the United Kingdom. This was the first kind of music that caused a generational divide: prior to rock music, people of all ages generally listened to the same kind of music. The concept of teenagehood also developed during this time, which furthered this divide, and possibly contributed to the popularity of rock music: it was something that adolescents could claim as their own.
When rock music was introduced to the UK, it mixed with the local music scene there, especially skiffle music, and the first recognizable rock music to modern listeners really came in the form of The Beatles and their British Invasion contemporaries. These groups, particularly The Beatles, but also groups like The Rolling Stones, The Who, and the Kinks, inspired thousands, if not millions of teenagers during the 1960s to take up their own instruments and form their own bands, leading to an unprecedented explosion in popular music. The Beatles and The Who in particular began experimenting with conceptual pieces and studio effects during the second half of the 1960s, and while not British, The Beach Boys began incorporating unusual instrumentation into their studio albums as well.
The studio experimentation and conceptualization began melding with the psychedelic rock of the late 1960s to form what would become known as progressive rock. The term “progressive rock” was first used in the liner notes of Caravan’s 1968 debut, and was later applied to bands that used that incorporated classical techniques into their music.
Notably, the line between proto-prog and progressive rock is very thin: there isn’t simply one consensus on what constitutes proto-prog, and what constitutes full-blown progressive rock. Is proto-prog music that contains elements of what would become progressive rock, but released before In the Court of the Crimson King in 1969? Is it music that contains some elements of prog, but not all? Is it a combination of both being released prior to In the Court… and not including all the elements of prog? Most fans, critics, and even the musicians themselves cannot come to an agreement. What is not debatable is that In the Court of the Crimson King is indeed a progressive rock album, and while it may not be the first, it certainly combined all of the factors that had been occurring prior.
You Are In The Court of the Crimson King: Prog is Solidified
While In the Court of the Crimson King may not be the very first progressive rock album, it is certainly the one that the majority of people interested in prog point to as the one that got everything started. It is an ambitious album: comprising of only five tracks, each of which of considerable length with unusual instrumentation, classically influenced, virtuosic, conceptual, and with an eye-catching red cover of a man screaming. This group gained notoriety when they upstaged The Rolling Stones at a concert in Hyde Park, which included several songs on the album, and arrangements of classical pieces.
Their debut helped to shift bands that had been going in a “progressive” direction to become “full-blown prog”. 1969 also saw the debuts of Yes and Genesis, which would become some of the biggest names in the progressive rock genre. It can be said, that while “progressive rock” had been gestating for a while, it was truly born in 1969.
The genre developed rapidly, and is often characterized by its conceptual themes, virtuosity in comparison to other rock musicians, eclectic influences, especially jazz, classical, and world, studio experimentation, and often times, lengthy songs. While these are the typical characteristics of progressive rock, it is important to note that no single set of characteristics are agreed upon. The bands that are considered to be “progressive rock” often times have these in common with each other, but may not share every single characteristic, or may put emphasis on one or two, or may sound completely and totally different from each other. The main characteristic that they all share is that they strive to progress the rock genre, and that is perhaps what contributed to prog’s reputation amongst rock music fans: adversity towards this sort of progress.
However, during its peak in the 1970s, prog was quite popular, especially due to the rise of FM radio, and the general post-psychedelic, experimental culture. It had its fair share of critics, however it generally regarded as simply another genre of music. Several albums from the most popular bands hit #1 in numerous countries, and saw financial success rivaling that of the biggest, “mainstream” bands of the day, like Led Zeppelin. In fact, several “mainstream” bands, including the aforementioned Led Zeppelin, began experimenting with longer song formats, different instrumentation, and more conceptual pieces.
So, one must examine what changed in order to determine why prog’s perception, at least in the UK and the US, has changed so drastically since then.
Close to The Edge: The Downfall (?) of Prog
Underneath the glamorous portrayal of rock stars of the early 1970s, economic and sociopolitical tensions were brewing in both the UK and the US that would lead to the rise of punk. However, is it fair to say the old adage that “punk killed prog”? No, not really, because one, it suggests that punk and prog are opposites both musically and politically, when that is not necessarily the case, and two, prog never really died.
The first wave of punk music, essentially, was a return to the rebellious origins of rock: the songs were short, loud, and originated with the idea that they could be played by anyone. Punk appeared to lack the class distinction present in progressive rock, which was primarily played by middle-class, trained musicians. These punk rockers often had legitimate complaints about the state of the political climate, and gave off an air of accessibility, which many of the prog musicians did not do. These factors were appealing to both the youth of the late 1970s, and the press, because many of these punk bands publicly acted out.
The press in particular began to deride prog as bloated music for pretentious dinosaurs, and along with the attitude that many punk musicians had towards prog musicians, helped to give prog its reputation. However, like noted before, there were even criticisms of the genre during its peak, in which it was criticized for trying to marry high-brow and low-brow culture, both by rock musicians and modern classical composers. Why is it then that punk is given the blame of “killing prog”, when there had been previous criticisms of the genre? And did prog really die?
Punk may have led to a decrease in the popularity of progressive rock during the time period, and caused many of the British progressive rock bands to transition away from lengthy concept albums, or break up altogether, it is not the opposite of prog, and it did not fully kill prog. Punk and progressive rock can coexist and do coexist, especially in more modern bands like The Mars Volta. A cousin to punk, new-wave, influenced many progressive rock bands throughout the 80s as well. Furthermore, even if punk was the sole reason for the decline in popularity for progressive rock in the late 1970s, it didn’t kill the genre. North American bands, arriving later to the scene, put out some of the most influential progressive rock works in the late 1970s, with 3 foundational albums by Rush alone (2112 (1976), A Farewell to Kings (1977), and Hemispheres (1978)). Continuing into the 1980s, the neo-prog movement took off, with bands like IQ, Pendragon, and Marillion at the forefront, with none of these bands being particularly “underground”. These neo-prog bands were slightly simpler than the progressive rock bands of the 1970s, however they did carry the torch through the 80s. Even some of the original bands were active in the 1980s, although transitioned to a different style: Genesis is perhaps the ultimate example of this, as their 80s pop-rock is more recognizable than their 70s prog.
In the 1990s, with the advent of progressive metal bands such as Dream Theater and Tool, came a renewed interest in progressive rock, and it has remained a lively niche genre since. Needless to say, the genre didn’t die; it hibernated.
The Garden: The Legacy of Progressive Rock
Prog has often been derided for its very goals: studio experimentation is seen as being convoluted, quoting of classical themes in the music is seen as making rock (and classical) worse, and the virtuosity as almost gatekeeping. Could prog be a little ostentatious, pretentious, and self-indulgent? Yes, but those aren’t traits that apply exclusively to prog. Many genres of music have their ostentatious moments, many have their pretentious moments, and isn’t the very purpose of creating music self-indulgent?
The reputation of progressive rock comes from a myriad of factors, most of which can be traced back to around the time punk movement, however it wasn’t necessarily the punks themselves (although there are surely punks out there that can’t stand prog) that were the issue, but rather the press, which had been an issue for prog’s entire existence. However, none of this detracts from the fact that there are legions of dedicated prog fans out there to this very day, and that the music has had an impact on many people’s lives.
Prog has seen a recent uptick in popularity lately, although for an unfortunate reason: we are losing many of the original prog pioneers. So, the conversation really shifts to the future of prog: where does it lie, and what is the legacy of these musicians? Will prog be derided until it is eventually forgotten? Will there be a resurgence and rediscovery of prog with the passing of the original musicians? How can we change the reputation of this form of music? Only time will tell.
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Corrupted, Chapter Six - The Laughing Beast, a Malevolent x TMA Crossover
Rational thought goes up like flash paper. “No,” Tim snarls. “I want you afraid.” And for just one second, he wonders where that came from. That isn’t like him at all.
Then he hopes whatever is coming hurts.
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Run, whispers Tim’s inner Cthulhu, and for the very first time, he sounds terrified.
Not startled. Not unnerved. Terrified.
(He should run. It’s the moment. The new guy, the old woman, and the thing from the book are all distracted with each other.)
Rational thought goes up like flash paper. “No,” Tim snarls. “I want you afraid.” And for just one second, he wonders where that came from. That isn’t like him at all.
Then he just hopes whatever is coming hurts.
“What are—” starts the old woman.
“What's this? Firebombs? Sacrifices? How many people have you killed?” And the voice is laughing.
No, that’s not the word. The voice is stabbing, every guffaw like lightning crashing down, and if Tim had tried to run, this laugh would have shaken him in its teeth and thrown him broken to the ground.
He can’t get up now. He’s curled, hands over his ears, gasping.
Run! the asshole hisses.
Tim can’t even move.
“Oh, I’m not hurting you,” purrs the voice. “You’re too fun. That means you should go, of course. This is going to be m-m-m- messy, and I wouldn't want to get… carried away… and kill you!” And that laugh strikes again, and it hurts, it hurts, and Tim cries out in pain.
He feels electrocuted. He can’t think.
The whatever-it-was he released from the book roars again. For a moment, the ground trembles, and the rusty hangar screeches like metal being torqued.
Then the roar cuts off with a squeak, as though its maker has been pinched.
“Wait your turn,” says the voice. “All right, you little vixen, you, go on now. Ooh, ooh, you know what? Let’s just give you a pinch more protection, shall we? Don’t want this to be over too soon.”
There’s the sound of a wet, sloppy kiss, accompanied by an actual mwah.
“Off you go. I’ll be watching you. ”
“Right,” says the old woman, who sounds somehow both dazed and focused at the same time. “Don’t do it again,” she adds, stern as a governess, and leaves.
Run! hisses the asshole inside him.
“Shhhh,” says the new voice, and then—
Earthquake? Tim thinks, because he has no other reference for it. The ground leaps, thrusts him inches into the air like a trampoline someone jumped on.
Or as if something incalculably heavy were slammed down upon it.
“You little opportunist! I guess it’s only fair, given how he stole your favorite city all those years ago, but really! If I’d known you were being all, ‘My god, they were roommates,’ I’d just have been tracking you all this time!”
Another bass sound, no words, too much meaning, and Tim groans.
The voice drops an octave again. “I like lies, Daggy-boy, but that was insulting.”
There’s another slam, another earthquake, another sound of tearing flesh. The resulting roar blacks Tim out for a moment.
When he comes to, he’s panting, on his back, and the heavy thing—whatever it is—seems no longer able to fight back.
Run, whispers his passenger, his monstrous personal demon.
Tim won’t. He clenches his fists in the dirt beneath him as if to anchor himself.
The sharp voice is low. “And you didn’t tell me. You knew I was looking for him for, like, a thousand years, and you... didn't... tell me.”
Tim smells ozone, as if literal lightning is about to strike this place. For some reason, that gets through. Clarity hits; self-preservation tops his wild, mindless rage. He rolls over and tries to run.
Rope suddenly whips around him from throat to ankle, and he falls, choking.
He lands hard, and discovers the cleat hooks have been threaded through the rope, bruising him cruelly, digging in. He cries out.
“You just stay still,” says the voice, low. “I’ll get to you. Dag! Allow me to communicate my disappointment.”
And then communicating disappointment happens, and all the sounds Tim’s heard to this point are nothing.
It’s like galaxies dying.
It’s like if water could scream.
It’s like—
Whatever it’s like has gone beyond Tim’s ability to quantify, and his thoughts are scattered.
Sometime after that—maybe years, he doesn’t know—it’s over. The silence is weighted, strange; the only sound is dripping, an unknown liquid that hisses every time it lands, like steaming blood.
Footsteps come his way. Just ordinary footsteps, not bothering to run; implacable.
It should be terrifying. Instead, Tim only knows rage, swallowing fear, feeling so damn good. “Come on, you fuck,” he dares the laughing beast, uncaring if he gets destroyed as long as everything else does, too.
Tim! the asshole hisses.
Tim is picked up by the rope like a bag with a handle, and it tightens, digging those cleat hooks in. He groans.
“Let’s see, let’s see, how shall we make this dramatic? Oh, I know!”
There’s a sound Tim has heard all his life—that of a cheap folding table being set upright, on its feet—and then he is slammed on top of grimy, textured plastic.
“Fuck you!” Tim shouts.
Tim is yanked close to what he thinks is a face. Fetid breath washes over him, reeking like meat that’s gone slightly off, too hot and too wet to come from human lungs.
“Hello, mule. The temper is cute? But I really don’t have a use for you, so lemme make this clear. The grownups are talking. If you make one more sound, distract me one more time, I will snap your spine. Then, I will set your nerves on fire. You won’t even be able to cry as you lie there in living hell, heart beat-beat-beating away, until it’s all done. Understand?”
Oh, Tim understands.
He understands he’s fucked no matter how this goes.
He understands the asshole inside him wanted his body, and took advantage of his grief to make it happen.
He understands that the asshole is fucked, as well, but that is not enough.
In a moment of blazing, all-encompassing anger, Tim decides to go the torture-paralysis route just to make fucking Cthulhu feel the loss of something he wanted.
He tries to bite the face.
He misses, teeth clacking on nothing.
“Well, that was a choice,” says the devil.
There is a clean, electric snap in Tim’s back.
The full weight of his body suddenly pulls him down, compressing, buzzing weirdly, limp. He can barely breathe, but if he could, he would laugh, because Cthulhu wanted this body, and now he has to watch it be destroyed.
The pain that follows, though—that is bad.
The devil wasn’t lying. It rockets immediately beyond anything he would have thought of as pain or torture or torment and into something he can only call destruction—a fire that moves, a cruel and eager razing of his every nerve. He’d be screaming if he could do anything at all, but he can only drool, and the only thing that could make it better would be if the asshole could feel this, too.
The laughing beast gasps dramatically. “Interference? In my prey? It’s more likely than you think!”
And it all suddenly stops.
The pain. The paralysis. The rage. Just stops, like a cord yanked out of the wall. Tim realizes he’s lying on a grody plastic folding table in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, and he has antagonized the devil.
He tried to bite the devil’s face. What the fuck. What the fuck.
“Take five, Casanova. The grown-ups are talking.”
Tim doesn’t need the warning repeated. He can’t stop hyperventilating, either, but happily, the devil doesn’t seem to mind.
“Hey, Haaaaastur?” says Satan like a whiny little girl. “Whatcha doooooin’?”
Inside Tim, the asshole makes a… groan. Long. Drawn-out. Agonized.
Tim is right there with him. His head spins. He opened the book again. Why had he opened the book? What the fuck had he done?
“Oh, you released one of the Great Old Idiots who’s been AWOL for about a thousand years, who then panicked because a mortal was defying him (what a babe!), and then went stupid and tried a Great Working, which of course I felt, so I came a-knocking, only to discover the particular Great Old Idiot I’ve been actively hunting for thrice that long has been hiding in a universe I never thought he’d dare! Can you believe the nerve?”
No, Tim cannot believe the nerve. "He… what?"
“The real question, my little fig pudding, is how. Daggy-boy should have stayed in there no matter how often that book opened—which means that you summoned him, darling.”
Tim feels like he’s waking up from being drugged, or from some kind of alcoholic haze. “How?”
“Dunno! I’m waiting for an answer, Hastur,” says the being lightly, too lightly.
Wait. Who the fuck is Hastur?
The damned cleat hooks are digging in. Tim shifts, uncomfortable, and then—with a flush of embarrassment—he recognizes the way he’s tied. It’s too tight, definitely not sexy, but he knows it. “Shibari?” he blurts.
“Oh, good, you noticed! I thought it might have gone over your head. Funny, right? On the fly, too. I’m proud of myself.”
“What the f—”
“Shhh.”
The laughing beast knew he’d…
Did it know everything?
It was here because he opened the book.
Tim did this. He’d summoned something (he’d wanted to, he remembers, though it feels like a dream), and lured the laughing beast right to them.
Tim has never imagined fucking up this badly. He has never imagined doing anything this cruel. He feels sick. “John, I’m sorry,” he whispers.
The being chokes. “John? You told him your name is John? Oh!”
And the laughing beast loses his mind.
Stomps away, cackling, crackling, possibly flailing his unimaginable limbs, and creaking-rustling-smashing-bashing sounds fill the hangar, a cacophonous storm. “Oh! Oh!”
The beast laughs. It hurts. There is a terrible, violent screech, and rain suddenly patters on Tim’s face.
The hangar’s been ripped open. By laughter.
“John! John! Damn it! Damn you! I was all prepared to hurt you so much for making me wait (all that screaming, all that pitiful begging), and then you had to go and be funny? Oh!”
Buffeted by raw sound, Tim falls off the table and lands hard. Those damned cleat hooks are going to leave him cow-patterned with bruises.
Run, whispers John or Hastur or whoever, though he has to know Tim cannot.
“I’m sorry,” Tim whispers again.
“You know what?” bleats the beast. “New idea! You’re going to make a lovely audience. Whoop!”
Tim’s eyes suddenly feel stabbed. He screams.
So does Hastur, for some reason?
The being touches Tim’s face, and he flinches. “Open up. That’s right.”
Open up? What, his mouth? He—
What’s happening? Hastur gasps. Where’s… what’s happening?
Tim gasps, too. He can see.
The devil is just a guy.
Just some guy, a man, bent toward him, wearing an absolutely boring suit with the shirt slightly unbuttoned, all of it rumpled as if he’d been out all night drinking to celebrate The Business Deal. If not for his bare feet, which seem to be smoking, he’d be nearly unremarkable.
“Oh, Hastur’s really freaking out now,” the guy chirps, and smiles like a hurricane. “I should’ve done this with the other one! Place swap! Ooh, maybe I should give him your body, let you have the eyes?”
“Rather you didn’t?” says Tim, voice cracking.
“Prefer to have it all, eh? Well, I can’t blame you. So would he!” The guy’s face twitches, expression warring between amusement and rage. “Fuckin’... John. You had to go and make me laugh. Damn it.” He gets up and starts pacing again.
Tim stares after him, panting.
The hangar is huge, and almost entirely rusted orange. It’s not dark; both front and back walls have been completely blown out, along with half the roof. Rusted-out farm equipment and random junk lie all over the place, and Tim really hopes his tetanus shot is up to date.
What a stupid thing to think. He’s not surviving this.
The way the laughing beast stalks that space… He moves like a tiger. It’s barely human; smooth, controlled, like he’s made of power and violence. It's incredible.
Tim would absolutely have hit on him in a pub.
He suddenly wonders if he has hit on (and succeeded) with non-human things in a bar.
“You have,” says the laughing beast without even looking at him.
“How do you know?” says Tim. “Wait. You?”
The devil laughs. “Sweet summer child. No. You’re alive and sane (though they’re both not a given at the moment), which is not a thing after I’ve done the do, so, no, you have not been fucked by me. Also, I just got here! New kid on the block!”
Just got there.
Because of the book that Tim opened.
“Oh, gods,” Tim moans.
What? What’s happening? says Hastur in a panic, which is when Tim realizes Hastur can’t see.
So Hastur is stuck in the dark, paralyzed and blind. Because Tim opened the book. “I’m sorry,” Tim whispers.
“Oh, and sweetums? Call me Kayne. Not that I hate the laughing beast (better believe that’s going on some booty shorts), but the titles are getting distracting.” And then he grabs Tim’s rope and drags him across the uneven, littered ground.
The cleat hooks catch on things. They dig in. Tim cries out.
Then Kayne tosses him onto the manky old armchair, and a cloud of spores or whatever the hell rises.
Tim coughs, choking.
What? What’s going on? Hastur demands.
Kayne flops in front of Tim, elbows digging into his thighs, chin propped on hands, and beams up at him.
Eyes watering, Tim freezes.
“So, my darling yellow coward… how you been?” says the devil, says Kayne, who apparently intends to drag this out.
Hastur makes that low, wordless sound. It is not a good sound. It’s terror, vocalized.
Tim doesn’t know why he speaks up, except that no one deserves to be treated this way, even if they are an asshole. “He’s scared shitless of you. He can’t answer yet, all right?”
“Are you scared shitless of me?”
“Uh, yeah?” Tim can’t help the sarcasm.
“But you’re so chatty.”
“I talk when I’m scared,” says Tim, which is true. “Besides—you said he’s been running away for three thousand years. Give him a minute.”
Kayne snorts at him. “Hey, want to know what you fucked?” he says, and Tim is smacked in the brain with a memory.
Of the adorable couple in the pub in Fairfield, positively impish smiles, getting all his jokes—
Of the three of them coming together like some wild spring bloom, all different petals and colors and all grassy-sweet.
And Tim’s memory, all his, of Carlin inside him and Darcy on top, of a rare and beautiful intimacy of no-holds-barred and everybody satisfied, of laughing in the bedroom (Tim loves that best) and top-ten-orgasms-ever territory—
And then, Tim sees what it really was.
Not a couple at all. Not human at all. Some kind of long, moss-covered thing, with an emotionless human face, with many openings and a segmented body and at least ten arms with wrong hands on each, pinning him down and fucking him stupid (and being fucked, too, which somehow matters?), and lifting a scorpion tail above him, ready to strike—
So clearly about to kill him, stretching him out, tail poised right over his willingly exposed throat—
And Tim, being Tim, laughing in the middle of illusory bliss and saying, “Happy birthday to me!”
And the thing (Male? Female? Did it even fit in one category?) just out of curiosity saying in a dual voice, “Is it your birthday?”
And Tim, being Tim, nerves singing, brain ringing, saying, “Naw, but if it was, I’d sell tickets.”
And the thing… laughs.
Because Tim bleeds charm, and Tim is cute, and the way Tim says this is so ridiculously endearing that the scorpion tail retracts, disappears, is put away.
The thing still takes its pleasure from him, but Tim doesn’t die.
And in his memory, he felt besotted, and then sad as the couple (not a couple not a couple) told him they had a good time, but they were just passing through, and they left the hotel before he woke.
“What was that thing?” says Tim weakly.
“Oh, see, what the Sela does is take your seed, give you its seed, and then it kills you! Stabs you through the throat so your blood can water things. Then you become a tree that cannot be uprooted, and it gives birth to a thing that looks like you, but with backwards hands. When it grows up, the cycle begins again.”
From nowhere comes The More You Know piano theme.
Okay, Tim has stroked out and this isn’t happening. “Oh, of course that’s what it does. Naturally! Should have guessed.”
“You really do talk when you’re scared, don’t you? And no, you’re not stroking out, but that’s an idea. Bet you’d both love that,” says Kayne.
Impossible, says Hastur. The Sela doesn’t spare people. This is bullshit.
“Yet it did. And who the fuck are you to argue, anyway? Hey, Timmy. Hey. Do you want to know what Hastur was doing today?”
Tim is busy being so grateful for condoms he almost misses the question. “He… was going to take my body?”
“Pfft, hahaha!” says Kayne. “You think it used a condom? And I mean, yeah, Hastur was leaning toward taking your body, but guess what? He made himself an arbitrary roadblock.”
Hastur is silent.
It takes Tim a moment. “What are you talking about?”
“He likes you. He set a bar for magic ability that’s really absurd, and had decided if you weren’t gods-damned Merlin, he wouldn’t go through with it—all couched under the guise of not good enough for him.” Kayne rises and speaks right against his ear. “Then you opened the book and damned him. You just know he’d thought better of you, don’t you?”
Tim feels sick. Shamed. “I don’t know why I...”
“Uh-huh, we’ll get to that. Hey, Hastur. Did you even notice yet? Did you? He got marked, mon petit roi, while you were dicking around playing Humane Society.”
What? says Hastur, sounding startled. Nonsense, I would have... He gasps.
“Marked?” says Tim, thinking bruises, cuts, flesh-eating bacteria.
“By a fear-born entity of complete and utterly personal destruction!” says Kayne. “By the One Who Consumes All. By That Which Sets Ablaze to treasured things, feeds that fire with its own flesh, and laughs all the way to ash and ruin.”
And Tim feels… a flutter. An echoed anger, a whispered call to finish what he started. He shudders.
That is not his desire. Yet it sort of is. It’s his hopelessness turned to poison, his pain weaponized, his blunt-edged anger bent to hammer-headed rage.
“Fun, right? I’ve never seen the Desolation eat a guy inside an avatar’s body before, but if you lose control of that, you’re both dead, and I’m pretty sure it’ll hurt.” Kayne sounds like he just saw an intriguing trailer for a movie. “So what do you think I’m gonna do with you, hm? Ask me. Go on, ask me.”
What are you going to do with me? And that voice, John’s voice, Hastur’s voice, is so afraid.
“Kill you! You know what’s really funny? I might not have if you hadn’t run. Might’ve ignored you. Or just hurt you for a few centuries. I didn’t particularly care, Hastur—until you ran. Until you actually thought you could get away from me. Until you had the gall to stay hidden.”
Tim is shaking by the end of this, even though it’s not directed at him. The malevolence in every word is like spider legs, crawling all over him, tips of fangs just pricking his flesh and threatening venom.
John (Hastur, whoever) makes that low groan again.
Tim isn’t sure what to do. The simmering rage wants to poke, to tease the spiders so they sink their fangs in. The quivering fear wants to stay silent in hopes only Hastur dies today.
Neither of those are who he wants to be.
He’d thought he was a good person before this, someone people could trust in a pinch, who didn’t molest or steal or hurt anybody. It turns out that isn’t him. When things got bad, he grew so angry that he opened the book and summoned something, knowing others would suffer.
So, not great.
He will deal with horrible personal revelations later. For now, he can at least try to do one good thing. “Sounds boring,” he says.
Hastur doesn’t have a body to stiffen, but he sure gives that impression, anyway.
“Really?” says Kayne.
Kayne probably heard that entire thought process. Tim decides to act on the assumption that he has. “Seems to me the movie trailer offered the more entertaining option. Better than just canceling things mid-production, anyway.”
Hastur’s bafflement almost tickles, it’s so strong.
“You know, you are charming?” says Kayne as if the words smell bad. “Kind of wholesome. If I’d just found you wandering along the side of the road, I would absolutely hit you with a truck.”
“Even with the Desolation thingummy?” says Tim. “Thought that was a good plot twist.”
Kayne laughs, low. “You don’t even know what that means yet—but you know, you have a point? In that case, I’d rile you up and drop you in the middle of an orphanage.” There is, from nowhere, a sudden smell of burning meat.
Tim gags. Fuck, is he serious? But Tim knows he is. Burning children would be funny to this guy.
What’s happening? What is that? demands John, Hastur, whoever.
“My hesitation is, I don't do re-runs,” says Kayne. “I already saw this show, and even though the finale was so… mmm, fucking good, I don't know that I want to do it again.” And he shudders at the memory, eyes lidded, violently illicit. “You are right, Timmy—I haven’t decided. But Hastur knows where this is going, don’t you, buddy? I kept my word to your namesake, didn't I?
You killed him, says Hastur, so very quietly.
Him? thinks Tim.
“I did! Eventually, I’m going to kill you, too. The only question is whether it’s now.”
Hastur is silent.
“Nothing? Heh. All right. It’s time for Final Jeopardy.” Kayne leans in.
Tim rears back. The armchair crunches.
“Hastur,” says Kayne. “The truth, now. Why did you use ‘John?’” And, very low: “If you lie, or if you hold the truth back, it’s over. Right here, right now.”
Tim can’t help him with this one.
Kayne pats his cheek. “No, you really can’t. Be quiet. Hastur. I’m waiting.”
I…
“The. Truth.” Vicious words, absolutely cold. Merciless.
Because I miss him, Hastur whispers, and in the end, he never needed me at all.
Tim’s eyes go wide. A spouse? Something else? A brother?
There’s another feeling in there, now. John—Hastur, whoever—might be… crying?
“You are making some faces,” says Kayne. “All right—I’ll accept that answer. It’s close enough, and it hurt you to say, which, let’s be fair, is what I was after. So!” He claps his hands. It causes thunder. Big, booming. As if the universe is responding to whatever Kayne’s decided. “Starting today, I have a whole new world to play in that I have utterly ignored because the gods were gone.”
“What?” says Tim, because what?
“And I have you two, which could have been boring… except you’ve both already fucked it up. You’re infected.” He tweaks Tim’s nose, making his eyes water. “He’s a narcissist.” He pokes Tim in the chest, but it’s Hastur who grunts. “The entities that dwell here are very interested to munch on a deity they haven’t tasted yet. I wonder how long you can stay alive?”
Tim stares. “What?” he says again.
“I wouldn’t count on Timmy to help much,” says Kayne to Hastur. “That infection is going to get him. You know that.” And he smiles. “Going to eat up that goodness, burn that wholesome charm like kindling. It’s a matter of time. You get to lose him. Slowly. No matter what you do.”
Hastur is heavily silent.
Tim thinks it's grief. Which makes no sense. Hadn’t he been about to kill him?
“And you are going to be stupid enough to think he can change, or is changing, or coming to be trustworthy. You’ll grieve, and try to save him, and give yourself away, and it’ll be a stupid, selfless mess. Yuck.” Kayne taps his chin. “Honestly, I know how it’ll go. It sounds dull. I’ve seen this before. It’s TV Tropes all over. Still…”
Tim stays quiet. Very still. He’s sure, somehow, that anything he does right now will tip the scales the wrong way.
“See, right there,” says Kayne. “There is something here I don’t understand. You shouldn’t be picking up on his moods. You shouldn’t be knowing how I feel and adjusting accordingly. You shouldn’t have instincts like that. But you do.” He flicks Tim’s forehead.
“Ow!”
“Something I can’t quite see, and that might make it interesting? Might. Fuck, there’s not enough audience for this—and like I said, I don’t do repeats. I mean—I am going to kill you, Hastur. You know that. Don’t you? Come on, now, be honest!”
I know, whispers Hastur.
“Do you want a stay of execution?” says Kayne so sweetly it’s stomach-turning.
Please, whispers Hastur.
Tim’s pretty sure if Kayne offered Hastur an extra week of life in exchange for Tim’s right now, he’d do it. He swallows.
“You’re not on the table, Timmy. You’re the only part of this that might be interesting. Of course, if I’m wrong, and you’re not, fuck it. I’ll just kill you anyway. But you’re lucky, Timmy. Ask me why, Timmy. Ask me why.”
This might as well happen. “Okay. Why?”
“Because I don’t care about you. You didn’t make me mad.”
Hastur is… trembling?
“See, right there. You can’t do that. Shouldn’t be able to feel that. This is… intriguing.” Kayne grips Tim’s hair tightly and looks him in the eye. “Nope. Don’t see the cause.”
“Sorry?” says Tim.
“Ha, not yet you’re not. We’re going to mix this up.”
And Tim feels… something. A buzz. A tingle, from his scalp straight down his body to his toes.
Hastur cries out. Fuck!
“What was that?” says Tim.
“Oh, you’ll figure it out,” says Kayne with a terrible smile. “I mean, it was actually your idea, though I don't think you remember wanting it. Oh, this will be a fun little balancing act. Good luck! Be funny!” And then he’s gone. Just gone. After rambling madly and threatening and being absolutely horrifying, just gone.
Tim sits on the terrible, crunchy armchair, panting, aching. Then he realizes he’s still tied. “Figures,” he mutters, and tries to see if he can get loose without falling to the floor.
------
Notes:
Yeah… Kayne said he’d kill them, and he did.
At least you know they’re together in their Dark World arc.
#malevolent#malevolent fic#tma#tma fic#tma crossover#malevolent crossover#tim stoker#kayne malevolent#kiy malevolent#corrupted fic
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original upload: 05/06/2013
Thoughts on the Sonic Generations remix of Open Your Heart from Adventure?
- the-spilling-hourglass
Hey there, cats!
This is a pretty heavy mix of this song, and it was heavy to begin with! There’s definitely more of a bass presence in this track, a general low end feed. In my opinion, the mix is a little void of some of the nuances that the original had, because of the way that it’s being remixed. It’s just a lot more dry. But, the effects in themselves are pretty cool! The almost industrial feel, with the straight, distorted drums lends itself to how desolate the mood of the stage is. I really dig how the vocals are sort of separated, void of the lead vocal and stripped down to their harmonies. It’s a really neat effect in the chorus! The guitar solo is left intact, a wise move, and overall this mix is very cool!
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13 of 1001
Today's album: The Beatles - Abbey Road (1969)
Likely one of, if not THE, most famous album covers of all time.
I know a few songs on here, I never had Abbey Road growing up, so the back half is almost all new to me.
Come Together-
A fuckin classic and a killer opener. I still have no real clue what the hell he means, but why should lyrics get in the way of a damn good song?
Something-
A sweet love song, kinda slow, but it just works so well when the bridge comes in quicker. I always forget how much i like this one.
Maxwell's Silver Hammer-
I knew a guy in college who claimed that this was the only Beatles song he liked.
Kinda wonder what he's up to.
Anyway, it's alright. The synth parts are pretty wild. My favorite Beatles song about a murderer.
Oh! Darling-
Well, i wasn't expecting a doo-wop song to be perfectly honest.
Also wasn't expecting that kind of a growl from John. Gotta say, he put some fuckin blood in this performance, even when he's kinda aping James Brown.
Octopus's Garden-
There's a section of The House on the Rock in Wisconsin with a massive whale in it and all kinds of weird nautical stuff, and there's a little automated orchestra that plays Octopus's Garden. This song always reminds me of that place.
Otherwise, it's kinda goofy and fun. Did Ringo write this one? Feels like a Ringo one.
I Want You (She's So Heavy)-
Oh, that intro is short but it fucks. Oh, yeah, this whole song fucks. Kinda slinky, kinda smoky. Lyrics are... to the point, the guitar work is fuckin solid, that bass line is just *filthy*, and that keyboard player is on fire.
Barely even noticed how long it is, because it just keeps. on. moving. I don't think I've ever heard it before today, but it's going on my Beatles shortlist.
Hahaha fuck it, this song ends NOW.
Here Comes The Sun-
One of my all-time favorite songs. One of the ones that can and will put a smile on my face pretty much no matter what. It's just so unrelentingly positive.
Because-
Acid is one hell of a drug. I like this one, but it's definitely pretty trippy. The synth trumpets, tho.
Also, the lyrics on Spotify add in all the ahh-ahh-ahh's and it just looks hilarious.
You Never Give Me Your Money-
Kinda dig the upbeat but beatdown part after the slower intro. Really cool guitar work in this one.
No idea what the end's about though.
Sun King-
Sloooooooow.
I almost know enough Spanish to understand what he's saying at the end, though he's kinda pronouncing things like it's Italian?
Mean Mr Mustard-
Weird. I'll be honest, i don't really get this one.
Polythene Pam-
This one's saying something, but I'm not quite sure what exactly it is. "Androgyny can be pretty hot", possibly?
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window-
Wait, what the hell is going on here? The last four songs have been like two minutes long, blended into one another almost seamlessly, and they seem to mean very little? Or I'm just not catching it.
Golden Slumbers-
Cute and kinda sweet.
Carry That Weight-
The anthem of childhood trauma, imo. Life is gonna fuck you up and you're just gonna have to deal with it. (You won't always be able to deal with it.)
The End-
Let Ringo cook! It's not gonna be fancy, but it's gonna be solid and consistent. Goddamn human metronome.
Chaos throughout the middle, but a solid truth right at the end.
Her Majesty-
Well, I have no memory of the queen not being vaguely grandmotherly, so this one is just odd to me.
So, i wasn't expecting the back half of this one to be "one long song needlessly broken up into like 12 little constituent songs". King Crimson would have had that be one 20 minute-long song, just saying.
A fairly cute album, all in all (Maxwell aside). I really liked it, but that didn't surprise me too much since i tend to prefer later, more experimental Beatles albums to their earlier, poppier stuff.
Favorite Track: Here Comes The Sun. Forever.
Least Favorite Track: Mean Mr Mustard and She Came In Through The Bathroom Window both kinda feel like they could have been cut and not much would have been lost, unless there's some sort of story linking the second half that i just didn't register.
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(241-255 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18])
names and thoughts below cut
241/ Wavfire - One Day (2023)
this music glistens!
it's super soft but has a sharp transient texture sprinkled in
i love love the contrast between the intimate piano and the electric bursts.
the breakdown in "With You At Dusk" could've been BT. beautiful.
---
242/ SDEM - Vortices (2023)
god i love these textures.
ive been obsessing over ae's 2016 soundscapes and this carries that vibe.
doubly in love when the tune has a hip hop tempo to it.
foh "bladelores" im into "NSEM Rev" now
---
243/ SPACELECTRO - For you (2023)
i was worried this would be too "UKHC" for me but it deviates from that timbre just enough for me to have a good time by the end!
fun color bass in the title track + some fun lower tempo stuff ie "Cassis"
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244/ Datsik - Darkstar (2016)
this is, for the most part, "just ok", to my taste.
the title track is kinda nice. if very… hmm… stereotype club wub.
mostly it's "No Mind" that hits right for me. i dig those flangy flavors.
---
245/ VA - The Umbra (2023)
a nice variety of hits and misses for me. overall quite good!
standouts: "Mandragora" ah, the rare dnb song i like.
"Emerald Green" !! MAN. i love this sort of sound. feels like glass. beautiful.
"solarblade" holy shit 100% my fav. all around standout
---
246/ litmus* - ルミちゃんかわいい (2023)
mixed feelings on this one. lots of "eh" trax. but
i really enjoy the sound design. and it's fun!
personal fav is "Despair" i think. funky harmony feeling.
still fun overall
also: final track is actually super funny and i love it for that
---
247/ VA - CYBERNETiX Vol.1 (2023)
"Deity Mode" holy shit this is heavy with INTENT. kick ass.
1000% the highlight. i ADORE it
the rest of the tunes range from nice to banger as well.
"Farewell To Reality(From Atoms to Code)" is surprisingly sexy. sounds legit like demoscene work
---
248/ VA - IRREGULAR NATION 9 (2023)
true to the title, this is a mixed bag of flavors. two standouts imo:
"ダラク・デ・ナイト" is a delightful low tempo high synth groove that hits good.
"Ideology" is just all around cool and prolly my fav. sound design. vibes. a delight.
---
249/ Rickyxsan - Them Vibes EP (2016)
3 tracks is kinda skirting the line of inclusion for my list but Every Single Track here bangs hard.
absolutely beautiful obnoxious screeching.
"Trippy" lives up to its name (well… dizzy?) and is my fav. esp the sub-less wobs 2m in. love
---
250/ VA - PARA OUT 3 (2023)
mostly (but not entirely) dnb. not my flavor.
However!!!!
"Junction Cave"!
god that's a cool texture. like a pure percussion performance in a metal can.
how did something this wild get into a dnb comp?
---
251/ VA - PSYALUME (2023)
more psy than color. still a neat exploration.
i love the chordscape in "bass of a lifetime". mixed strangely with the bass. truly the best of color and psy!
"Antimatter" stands out too but it's its own clubby thing.
---
252/ VA - Virtual Odyssey: Emotion 3 (2023)
bright and clubby music.
not bad but i dont feel too strongly about it overall.
the vocals in "Deep Down" are kinda funny. im into it lol
i also appreciate the absolutely ham filtering in "Identical"
---
253/ muyu - Dream of _ (2023)
"Hello My Friend" som quote????
man this is pure bubblegum good vibe energy. lovely
it's not representative but I'd like to highlight "Lucid Dream" for the way it treats its piano. wow and flutter, growing beyond limitations
---
254/ VA - Spirit Chords 3 (2023)
good clubby fun with a few standouts:
primarily "FLARE", which BANGS.
"Capricorn" also!!
actually, same for "Emergency Call", the track in the middle. that's just a REALLY good 3-track run in there.
---
255/ Cryptovolans - Passenger (2022)
special selection for #0xFF :)
id describe this as "a really cool 90s rompler sound" but it is, somehow just midi. the vastness of the SC astounds me.
"Board Room" and "Birdhouse" appeal to me in particular. Bass. twisted into a proggy sponge
---
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2 Baddies (NCT 127) - liveblog reaction
I haven't heard any of the songs or teasers for this album. This is my first time listening through to any of it.
Faster - Bird call intro. This opening makes me think of "New Axis" a bit. Didn't love that "My wayyyy," but this instrumental is interesting. Mark my favorite NCT 127 rapper. 0:47 Jaehyun rapper? (Edit: yes!) Who is this at the one-minute mark? (Edit: It's Yuta.) A very fitting song for the concept of the comeback. Is this Johnny rapping at 1:53 after Taeyong? (Edit: Yes, it is.) Who is this at 2:06? Yuta? Ah, I just remembered how Sticker had Jungwoo rapping, maybe him? (Edit: IT WAS DOYOUNG?!?!?!?!?!?!!? WHOA!) I'm vaguely enjoying this song, but I don't think it's interesting enough for 2:50s of it.
2 Baddies - Ok, title track, let's go. Car go vroom. "TWO BADDIES TWO BADDIES ONE PORSCHE?" Uhhhhhhh. Wait omg, is this Jaehyun rapping after Mark at 0:36? He's fast. (Edit: Yes, its' Jaehyun.) "Blue's clues." Thank you, Johnny. Is this Jungwoo at 0:53 after Haechan? 0:59 Doyoung? (Edit: Yes, and yes.) Is the chorus going to be shouting every time? I do like the old timey car horn in the background. Ok, I'm kind of digging this rap at 1:32, which I think might be Jaehyun again? (Edit: Sure is.) 1:57 finally some singing. (Edit: Hello, Yuta!) These first two songs have both been very rap-heavy. I hope the choreography is interesting. This song didn't do it for me. It felt like it should've been a rap unit song, rather than the title track, despite the obligatory Taeil high note in the background of the bridge. I do like the the "na-na-na-na-na" at 3:25 but it's kind too little, too late for me.
Time Lapse - More very techy instrumental. INCOMING! (That's got to be a producer tag, right?) I wish the instrumental, especially the bass, was mixed a little louder compared to the voices. The harmonies on this "Can we fix it?" section do sound very NCT 127. I feel like this style showed up a lot on the NEO ZONE b-sides. Jaehyun at 1:20? I'm kind of digging his tone here. 1:35 Yuta? I like this lower register. (Edit: Yes and yes.) Who is this at 1:42? I think a quick series of voices maybe? I do like. (Edit: Johnny followed Jungwoo.) 1:57 high tone was nice. (Edit: still Jungwoo.) "And now, the weather." Omg. I like this harmony at 2:39, Haechan and uh, Doyoung maybe? (Edit: Haechan and Jaehyun actually!) This is such a classic Taeil bridge high note lol. Okay, I can vibe with this song. I quite like the outro instrumental.
Crash Landing - Ok, this is kind of funky (positive). Stop giving Johnny spoken word parts, SM, I am begging you. This Haechan to Doyoung opener is nice. Is this Jungwoo (maybe??) at 0:30? (Edit: No, it's Taeyong! Wow!) 0:41 sounds really nice. I wanna say Yuta? Oh, who is this at 1:06? Really nice. (Edit: Taeil, of course. Always so strong.) "All up, all up into my love." Wow, Mark is branching out his rap style at 1:21. I'm not sure I like it, but I do love the experimentation. 1:44 Taeil? Really strong sounding. (Edit: Yuta actually! I definitely have a history of occasionally mistaking his voice for Taeil's.) This song sounds like (I hope) the album transitioning into more vocal-focused songs. The bridge is doing it for me, I think, especially with the instrumental. Oh, the ending felt so abrupt?
Designer - This beat is very promising. Wow, this harmonized vocals were not what I was expecting off this opener. But I think I like it. Digging the steel drum sound. 0:40 Mark rapping in his low tone is nice, followed by Jaehyun rap? Both sound good. Is this Johnny next? (Edit: It sure is.) Taeyong's "classic" at 1:08, I did like it. This song is pretty lowkey, so far, but I'm enjoying it. Is 1:40 Yuta? Doyoung? (Edit: It's actually Jungwoo!) Is this Jaehyun doing call-and-answer with Mark at 2:09? (Edit: yes.) If my ear has been right, Jaehyun is doing a lot of rap this album. Haechan is sounding good. The feeling of this song changes a lot, but I'm not mad about it. High note closeout on the bridge, classic and strong. Is Doyoung the one doing the ad libs in this closing section? (Edit: Absolutely, yes, it's Doyoung.) I do like it.
Gold Dust - This sounds like Doyoung's breathy tone. I bet this is going to be a slow, smooth song, if not a ballad. Yo, who is this at 0:22? (Edit: it's Taeil!) Ahhhh, Jaehyun's low singing voice, I love youuuuuu. 0:41 really nice harmony. (Edit: Taeil and Johnny, ah, I like this combo a lot!) Is 1:09 Yuta? (Edit: yes, it is.) This song feels like being underwater. I like it. Interesting distortion on the backing vocals. Mark's rap is nice. Is this Jungwoo singing after him? (Edit: yeah, it's Jungwoo.) I know I've said this a lot in my recent NCT liveblogs, but I'm really enjoying how Haechan's voice has matured this past year. These main vocal ad libs over top of this soft harmony is very pleasing to my ear. Was this final line Jungwoo? (Edit: Yes, it was.)
Black Clouds - Another soft song? I vibe with this acoustic guitar. Oh, hello, this beat with Jaehyun's vocals? I really like this! Then Yuta? (Edit: yes! He sounds so good!) Something about this instrumental makes me feel nostalgic for the music I was into in, like, 10th grade. Mark's voice at 1:10 with Haechan's ad libs? Really nice. Jungwoo at 1:26? (Edit: yes.) The bit at 1:49 in to the high note, I like it a lot. (Edit: Taeil of course.) This instrumental feels so sentimental but I do like it! Jaehyun's, Mark's, and Haechan's voices suit it very well. Whoa, who is this at 3:24? I wanted to say Taeyong, but I'm not sure? (Edit: It was Taeyong.)
Playback - This instrumental is giving me "Elevator (127F)" vibes. The first three songs on this album were so committed to the concept of the comeback, and then a slew of softer, smoother songs? I'm not complaining, but I am surprised. 1:15-ish that "ooh!" was very fun. (Edit: Maybe Taeyong? It comes right before his lines/) Whoever is leading the chorus at 1:51 really like the tone. My guess is Mark maybe? This bridge is vocally really interesting and I like it as a bridge, though I'm not sure if I like it as the bridge of this song. I don't hate any of the songs so far, but I've also yet to hear a song that really really made me go, "Oh hell yeah, I love this!"
Tasty - Are we getting back to the 2 Baddies vibe? "We're savage, outlaws / Rock solid, no flaws" – is this Johnny and Mark overlapped? (Edit: just Johnny, I guess.) I'm strangely into it. Whose voice is this at 0:28? (Edit: Taeil? Wow!) Whisper rap, I can dig it. This... might be my favorite song so far? Wild. Now why is this song titled "Tasty?" I just really liked this beat, wow. Taeyong's rap tone suits this song. Was this Jungwoo after Haechan during the bridge? (Edit: yes, it was.) This laser tag sounding instrumental after the bridge, I'm weirdly into it! This shouty bit reminds me of a lot of NCT Dream's recent music actually. I liked this one.
Vitamin - Bring the funk back! What the hell is this cringy English line for Johnny? "I'll be the therapist for the day?" I'm in tears. Stop that. Doyoung at 0:37, nice. Oh, I do like this chorus. I'm jamming out in my chair. "A-woo." Yeah, a lot of Jaehyun rap this album. The voice at 1:30 caught my attention. I really want to say it's Yuta, but maybe Taeil? Sometimes I mix their voices up, I know. (Edit: Nah, I was right. it was Yuta!) Are the lyrics "vitamin me" because lol. This Haechan to Doyoung bridge HELLO I like it a lot. Great ad libs. I can hear Doyoung and Jaehyun for sure. Okay, this is definitely my favorite song so far. I love the "a-woos."
LOL (Laugh-Out-Loud) - What a title, first of all. I hope the lyrics are funny. I like the way this sounds so far. Voice following Doyoung at 0:41 catches my attention; I like the tone. (Edit: It's Yuta!) This chorus feels a little cheesy, but I do like it. Gosh, this instrumental with Jaehyun's voice following the first chorus? Really nice. Okay, the beat and chord progression at 1:44 was so pleasing to my ear. 1:59 Jungwoo maybe? (Edit: yes.) This song sits at the same table as WayV's "Dream Launch" and "Stand By Me." The lyrics sound like they're singing "laugh it off" rather than "laugh out loud" tbh. "Laugh it off" is a sentiment I can get behind. (Edit: Apparently, it's "laugh it up" actually haha.)
1, 2, 7 (Time Stops) - I love counting: 1, 2, 7. Voice at 0:30 is light and pretty. I wanna say Jungwoo? (Edit: yep!) But, like, in the style of Doyoung. Funky instrumental. This is pretty easy listening. I'm vibing. Vocals are shining. Haechan at 2:35, then Taeil at 2:45? Have they ever considered doing a musical? (Edit: I had Haechan right, but 2:45 was actually Doyoung, not Taeil, and he has done a musical, so.) Oh hello key change. "Girl, you..." is always such a choice for lyrics lol. Interesting ending for the album! I think I liked this song.
Final thoughts: Given the title track and concept of the comeback, this album contained a lot more soft / slow songs than I had anticipated. The flow from song to song was strangely cohesive though. Jaehyun really shone in this album, then Haechan, Yuta, and Jungwoo. (Mark is consistently good, so it feels silly to call him out specifically.) I don't think I was really feeling this album until the last third, though I did like "Designer" and "Gold Dust" well enough. My favorite song is definitely "Vitamin." A-woo!
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rei brown - Xeno
(Alternative R&B, Electropop, Pop Rap)
Rei Brown's debut album toes the line between modern, "vibe"-centric R&B and a lush palette of sounds influenced by underground electronica, dance, techno, nu-metal and more. With its varied styles that all work towards one melancholy mood, Xeno does a surprisingly effective job establishing Brown's approachable but unique take on contemporary electropop.
☆☆☆☆
Give Xeno a glance, and it looks like just about any other downtempo, reserved alt-R&B album to come out in the past decade or so. With its plush electronic drum programming, reverb-soaked synths and guitars, and hushed vocal performances, there's lots about Xeno you'll be familiar with if you've spent time with the music of anyone surrounding Brown in the music world - your Joji's, your Khalid's your Aries' - and it's hard to deny just how comfortably his songs sit next to theirs during a party or long night drive playlist. But what sets his music apart is how he gets to that point, avoiding the more standard pop and hip-hop roads of his contemporaries in favor of a sound more influenced by underground dance and electronica than anything else, still comfortable and safe in its gentle R&B sound but given just enough of a sensual futuristic touch to make for distinct and memorable songs. And acting as his debut, Xeno does a surprisingly effective job establishing Brown's approachable but unique take on contemporary electropop, not doing anything out of the ordinary but sprucing it up just enough to make for a sweet and mellow listen.
Largely produced by Brown himself, Xeno wears its many influences proudly on its sleeve as he lets the myriad of 90s and 00s influences on his music take center stage. There's the fuzzy 2-step kick of Solar and drum 'n' bass infused R&B jam When I Fall Asleep, Brown mixing flashy modern production with the nostalgia often associated with these old dance sounds, but even the glossy garage house of EZ and heavy alt-rock guitars that close out the title track feel like they're pulling from those same retro roots, even if taking bits and pieces from those sounds has become quite commonplace within the contemporary pop world. It's not that Brown's sound is an uncommon one, but that it's uncommonly done this well, his delicate and wispy vocals along with the extra level of polish put onto his production allowing Brown's music to feel more genuine and heartfelt than most of what you can find out there. Even when he's singing about the usual - breakups, romance, longing and desire - there's a tenderness to his layered harmonies and fragile guitar on r u gonna love me? and an explosive euphoria to Could I Be Somebody as he sings of hoping to be with someone he knows will be there for him that strikes a nerve few others are able to with this kind of music. Rei Brown knows his craft well, and he makes his music engaging not through wild experimentation or raw intimacy, but by balancing the acidic melancholy of mainstream alt-R&B with bubbly production that gives it a fresh, exciting new look.
And if Xeno lacks a particularly unique perspective in its songwriting most of the time, Brown makes up for it in how much passion and heart he puts into his performances. The dejected and cold timbre he brings on tracks like the trap-infused Waiting for You or drugged-out sex jam Centauri works well for the kind of subdued, anxious yearning he's feeling through them, and when he lets his voice come out more vibrantly on the hook of Thinking Bout You or the dance-pop glow of Solar, you can feel the extra energy coming out beautifully as his breathy crooning lifts you up in the air. There are a few times where he digs into some darker themes - the title track explores Brown's experiences with xenophobia and homophobia and Could I Be Someone explores the awkward and sometimes surreal experiences that come with young queer romance - but those stories get buried underneath all this hazy R&B sheen that makes it hard to connect with them when the production is aiming so fiercely for low-key "vibe" music more than anything else. And that's a fine way to go about things, and it does Xeno many favors throughout since Brown can focus on atmosphere and mood more than anything else, but it does mean that his ability to emote and explore different themes throughout is highly limited. Considering it's his debut, a cohesiveness like this alone is one mighty impressive achievement.
All in all, Xeno is a fantastic way for Brown to start things off, strongly establishing his sound while leaving tons of room for him to develop and improve on it in the future. It's music that's easy to love and even easier to listen to, production you can sink your teeth into while not demanding too much of your strength to get a taste of things, Brown's vision as an artist one he can bring to life and make some great songs along the way. Xeno isn't doing anything wild, but the pull of Brown's music is how personable and well-made it all is, the warmth of Waiting for You and the ebullient groove of EZ simple but incredibly effective ways for him to get you into his world and show you his magic, and though it won't be the most exciting thing you'll hear this year, it'll certainly be one of the most gratifying. Rei Brown already has what he needs for his music to win you over - now, the only thing left to do is keep moving forward.
#rei brown#xeno#jimaku super#alternative r&b#dance#electronic#electropop#pop#pop rap#r&b#trap#2022#8/10#album review#2022 albums
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Snare Me His Shadow
Pairing: Steve/Bucky
Rating: Explicit 18+
Words: 4.5k
Tags: Primal Play, Prey/Predator Kink, Fighting As Foreplay, Rough Sex, Biting, Choking, Dom/Sub Undertones, Come Swapping, Anal Sex, Overstimulation, Fucking Outdoors, Storm Sex, Poetry As An Aphrodisiac, R18 Hide And Seek
So a million years ago, @howdoyousleep3 passed on an ask from her inbox that read:
[I dont know if you’re familiar with primal play, but it’s so fucking hot. Yeah, I know, Steve is all muscle and ability, he’s strong he’s fast, he’s smart, he is not prey. Usually. But Bucky - the winter soldier - is a hunter. The best, in fact. He loves a good hunt]
...This one possessed me. Please heed the tags, this is an entirely consensual and agreed-upon game between Steve and Bucky, but it is very much a hunter/prey type situation 😈
It’s electric, like this.
Barefoot on the damp earth, navigating by muscle memory more than sight, because darkness settles that much denser beneath the tree canopy.
Steve could move faster, could take this barely-worn path through the woods behind the compound at a sprint. But fast is loud.
Fast is leaves cracking and branches splintering, and the muted thud of footfalls on the forest floor. It’s eyes fixed only ahead so you don’t stumble, and nothing but the sound of your own exhales in your ears.
‘Fast’ gets you caught.
The in-rolling storm crackles humid in the air, sparking against Steve’s skin as he weaves through the underbrush. He throws his every sense outwards, searching and sifting through those faint currents of movement around him, those quiet signs of life. But it’s all life out here; birds and insects and creatures who can’t bear the light, all just playing the same game he is, and every last one of them pricks at his awareness.
Every last one of them kicks at his pulse and drip-feeds new adrenaline into his bloodstream, because experience echoes a warning way down in his cells - the apex predator comes silent as a spider.
There’s so many eyes on him, the weight of being watched pressing down on him from all sides. He digs the heel of his hand into his arousal and pulls in a lungful of air on the cusp of rain; feels himself splintering between his warring desires to put up a worthy chase, and to drop down belly-up in the dirt.
It’s a choice that will be made for him, eventually.
He might be strength, and speed, and strategy. But out here, he is prey.
Out here, in these weeping woods that stretch endless into the night, Steve is achingly, exquisitely outmatched by the hunter who lies in wait; biding his time, unseen, and slipping ever closer.
Dressed in black from head to toe, or skin bared to the shivering pulses of the forest; empty handed, or palms laden with the urge to grab and pin and possess…
The Winter Soldier is out there, and Steve’s blood runs so much hotter for the knowledge that he won’t see or hear or feel him coming until it’s too late.
He winds his way amongst the weathered trunks, hugging the shadows and pawing at the lines of his own body; stroking his thighs and pulling at his nipples, raking fingernails over the bare skin of his stomach. It’s rough and absent and frantic all at once, a weak precursor to what he’s evading.
The dissonance of it is dizzying, hiding from the thing he wants most. He wants to cry out, to make for the clearing in the middle of the woods and sprawl shameless in the open until he’s found, but he knows the rules - run, hide, don’t make it easy.
Pursuit is the purpose, and capture is a pleasure that must be earned, no matter how raw his skin is screaming for touch. And it is screaming - he’s a copper wire stripped bare, and he shivers for every stinging snap of branch and damp drag of leaf against his body as he picks his way through the darkness.
Hard limits apply, he’d told Bucky, the rest is up to you.
He shudders for it now, those words and the way Bucky’s eyes had darkened for them; the way he’d leaned in to kiss his sugar-laced threat right onto Steve’s waiting lips - I will find you.
It’s only a matter of time. The forest is vast, and countless months have passed since they last played this game, but Bucky is a blade that never dulls.
Bucky is razor-sharp, in wit, beauty, and battle; made up of midnight and silent strides when he so chooses, and he will find Steve.
He might have had eyes on Steve this entire time; ten soundless steps behind, watching Steve’s slow descent into desperation with a smile on his face, and the mere possibility has Steve’s cock weeping through the thin fabric of his shorts.
His fingertips dip beneath his waistband and sweep through the wetness beading at his tip; stroke that sensitive spot just beneath the head. His palm slips to press at the heavy throb in his balls and it makes his breath catch too loud in the confines of his chest, has a moan slipping out past his gritted teeth.
He knows it’s foolish, knows he’s only making himself easier to track. But every step he takes is winding the hunt toward its inevitable climax, and intellect is giving way to instinct.
His consciousness is beginning that steady downward drip, sinking from logic and reason to settle and swim with the dense heat pooling at the base of his spine. Soon, he’ll be nothing more than the urge rippling under his skin, the tight-squeezed air in his lungs and the thrum of blood between his thighs, and every brush of his own hands is permission to slip a little further to it.
So he doesn’t stop.
His feet and his fingers keep moving; his body acting now on his mind’s behalf to draw towards the river's edge, where his desperate sounds will be swept away by the unending rush of water over rock, because this is about preservation now.
It’s about surviving the voracity of his own need until he is found, until Bucky catches him, and then…god, then...
The rest is up to you.
The beginning of rainfall winds its way down through the tree canopy, and it does nothing to quell the heat radiating off Steve. He’s burning so hot for this, so hungry for it; his need only growing sharper as the atmosphere curls in thick and charged with the promise of thunder.
It’s rumbling in the distance already, too faint for non-enhanced ears but creeping closer; a rolling bass beneath the surge of the fast flowing river up ahead. He can see the diluted black of open space through the trees now, can hear the clack of wet-tumbling stones, and it’s nothing short of delusion, the way it feels like he’s headed for sanctuary.
Logic knows it’s a weak veil of auditory cover at best, and an outright plea for ambush at worst.
Steve knows, down in his gut, exactly which one he’s hoping for, and he sprints for it with the last of his tactical thought seeping out through the soles of his feet.
He breaks through the tree line, hitching a gasp as he stumbles out into the full force of the downpour. It’s coming down heavy, sluicing at the fever-sweat clinging to his skin, and he tilts his face up towards it; lets his eyes drift shut and his shoulders drop as he bares his throat to the purple-black sky.
His pulse riots for the sheer abandon of the gesture, of shifting his posture to one of invitation in the midst of evasion. It only spurs him on, makes him want to find out just how shrill that siren in his cells will wail when he refuses to curl in on himself.
He forces his hands open at his sides, turns his palms outwards and walks further out onto the exposed riverbank. He stands ankle deep in the river with his heart in his throat, soaked to the bone and all but shaking with the desire to drop to his knees in submission.
And that’s when he hears it.
The slow-whistled high note, followed by a low; the signal that shivers from the top of Steve’s spine to the cradle of his hips.
Found you.
It’s a question as much as a warning, that signal; a chance for Steve to respond in their shared language of gesture whether he wants the chase, or the fight.
As if he hadn’t made up his mind the moment they agreed to play tonight.
As if he’s not done for either way.
He pulls in a shuddering breath, his skin prickling with the presence he can sense now off to his left. Survival instinct begs him to open his eyes, to scour his surroundings and prepare for what’s coming, but he only shuts them tighter.
He grins up at the pelting rain, curls his quivering right hand into a fist, and beats it against his drenched, heaving chest.
Take me down where I stand.
Thunder rumbles overhead and shakes the stones underfoot. Steve’s blood beats frantic in his ears, one heartbeat stumbling over the next, and he waits, waits for the blow he doesn’t want to see coming.
A foot to the back of his knees, an arm wrapped around his throat, a strike of unyielding metal between his shoulder blades...it’s never the same twice, and it’s always better than the time before, and he can’t stop the desperate whimper that falls from his parted, rain-slick lips.
“Bucky!” he pleads, hurling it into the current of the storm raging around him.
“Steve,” comes the answer from directly behind him; the word falling across his skin in the split second before teeth sink deep into the meat of his shoulder.
It’s nothing short of wanton, the way Steve cries out with it.
Five fingers curl a punishing grip around the column of his throat and a soaking wet body plasters against his back, and Steve doesn’t even try to hold his centre of gravity as he’s wrestled down to the riverbank.
It’s a messy takedown, raw force over skill; dripping all the same desperation that’s been twisting hot in Steve’s gut all night. Bucky pins him belly-down against the stones at the river’s edge, the full weight of his body draped over him, and Steve knows the tremor he can feel humming through Bucky’s muscles has nothing to do with the cold.
“The river,” Bucky growls; metal forearm jammed against the back of Steve's neck, “of course you came to the river.”
Steve squirms giddy beneath Bucky’s mass, beneath that deep-thrumming power crushing down on him.
The storm-swollen current reaches up the bank to wash shallow and frigid beneath Steve’s cheek, his chest; against his nipples and his thighs and his cock inside his drenched shorts. It’s cold enough to draw gooseflesh across the bared expanse of his skin, but fuck if that persistent rush doesn’t feel like getting tongued; like every single time Bucky’s ever slipped an ice cube in his mouth and sucked him off just to see him hit the ceiling.
“Buck...”
It’s the only word that makes sense anymore. Steve gets his elbows under himself and pushes his body up, but only so much as to feel the stifling weight of Bucky on top of him.
Bucky’s hand slips to the front of his throat and grips him tight up under the line of his jaw; tips his head back to get his lips and teeth pressed hard against Steve’s ear.
“Steven...did you even try?”
The rain and the river aren’t enough to sweep away the mockery in his tone. He’s shifting himself on top of Steve, putting scant inches of space between their bodies, and Steve knows this cue; grins bright and breathless for it.
He digs his hands in against the riverbed, plants his knees and shoves upwards. He heaves his weight forward and Bucky’s grip loosens just enough to let it happen, to let Steve crawl and clamber a few meager feet forwards.
Steve knows it’s a false freedom but he laughs half-hysterical for it anyway, and even more so when Bucky’s hands are catching him again, clamping bruising tight at his hips and grappling him onto the flat of his back.
He winces at the battering strike of rain against his face, but it’s just as soon blocked by the cover of Bucky caging him in; replaced by the tepid drips rolling off Bucky’s perpetually warm skin.
Steve’s body reacts the way it thinks it’s supposed to, going through the motions of trying to throw Bucky off - strength funneled into a forearm arm pressing here, a knee striking there. But it’s pointless; sabotaged by the underlying truth that the only place Steve really wants to be is stuck exactly where he finds himself - pinned pliant beneath his predator.
He lets himself look, then; lets his gaze slip down between them to drag over the length of Bucky’s body. He’s bared to the elements just the same as Steve - not a stitch on him save for running shorts that barely hit at mid-thigh. His hair is pulled back, and he’s soaked to the bone, and when lightning splits the darkness in two and catches on the angles of his face, that raw perilous beauty strikes a blow all of its own to the center of Steve’s chest.
“You win,” Steve rasps, dragging his voice up from the pit of his billowing lungs.
Bucky’s answering laugh is darker than the wet-ink midnight pressing in on them, and it shudders all the way to Steve’s bones when Bucky sinks down to purr ominous against the vulnerable stretch of his neck.
“Not yet, I haven’t.”
The ravenous clamp of teeth on his throat sends Steve’s body bowing, writhing for that merciless bite that doesn’t break the skin, but makes purpled ruin of what lies beneath. Fascia and blood vessels and Steve’s sanity, all broken down in the transcendent grind of Bucky’s jaw, the heat of his mouth; all over Steve’s neck and his chest and his belly, and it’s so feral, the way Steve wants it.
He wants the shred of busted stitching and the shock of rain against newly bared skin as his shorts are torn from his body.
He wants the red welts raked down his rib cage, the kiss-split lip and the deep set imprints of Bucky’s teeth all up the insides of his thighs.
Bucky’s touch is heavy and he means it to be; his shifting, squeezing grip claiming handfuls of Steve’s willing flesh wherever he can get it. And he can get it everywhere - every last inch of Steve’s body splayed out for him in tribute to his prowess, and Steve wants him to take it.
He wants Bucky to make sacrilege of it out here under the split-open skies, until it feels like heaven itself is sobbing for it.
“Fuck me,” ruin me, desecrate me, arch-backed and bleeding-lipped in the dirt, “Bucky, fuck me…”
Steve begs with all of himself, legs split and arms thrown above his head; dripping sweat and storm and half-crazed surrender. Like he actually has to plead for this, like Bucky’s not already stuffing searching fingers up between his cheeks to grope for the base-end of silicone that says Steve’s body is primed for the taking.
Bucky bites taunting denial into his skin, over and over. ‘No,’ even as he pulls the plug from Steve’s body and replaces it with his fingers. ‘No’ growled against Steve’s body every time he begs now, and please, and I’m ready, just to fray that tenuous thread of Steve’s resolve.
Steve’s delirious with it, crying out high and sharp for the stretch of cold metal inside him and the drip of remnant lube. He chants Bucky’s name and reaches out with clinging, clawing hands that only get batted away; that get caught at the wrists and pinned down, and Bucky’s laughing at him.
Bucky is toying with him, leaving him empty and climbing back up over his body to graze teeth over Steve’s cheekbones, to whisper sweet mockery against Steve’s lips before he kisses them bruising-hard.
“Tell me you want it,” Bucky coos, clamping his hand over Steve’s mouth and pushing the clothed head of his cock up against Steve’s hole.
Steve sobs against his palm. He forces the words out wet and incomprehensible onto Bucky’s skin; again and again as Bucky tuts and tells him to speak the fuck up.
Tears are streaming free from the corners of his eyes and his legs are hooking desperately around Bucky’s waist, and he knows that Bucky wants this just as bad. He can feel Bucky shaking and shuddering under the strain of holding back and holding out, trying to push Steve closer to his breaking point just because that’s what Steve wants; devotion at its most deranged.
“Don’t cry, baby,” Bucky laps at the tears tracking down Steve’s face, letting up his hand from Steve’s mouth only to settle it heavy on his throat.
He slips his other hand down between them to shove at his shorts, fighting the clinging fabric down far enough to get his cock free, and then they’re both groaning for the rub of naked skin on skin.
“Buck,” Steve chokes out a half-strangled cry as Bucky sinks his whole weight onto him, dragging his stomach over Steve’s weeping cock and rocking his own into the crease of Steve’s hip.
“Tell me you want it?” Bucky says again, a question this time instead of a taunt.
Steve’s rasp of yes, fuck, do it barely makes it past his lips before Bucky’s cock is pushing into him.
There’s no hesitance, no pretense of patience to it. Bucky doesn’t finesse it and Steve doesn’t want him to - he didn’t spend half the night skulking through the woods in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm just to get taken the way he would be in the sanctity of their bed.
Steve came out here to get fucked vicious, and Bucky knows better than to pull his punches.
He shoves brutal and punishing into the tight heat of Steve’s body, knocking the air from Steve’s lungs and the sense from his psyche.
He’s tucking words up against Steve’s ear, something lilting and familiar, and the roar of Steve’s own blood and the groaning sky above don’t drown out Bucky’s voice so much as darken it’s edges; slip a rumbling bass beneath it’s baritone. Steve loses himself in the well-worn rhythm long before the words catch up to sink hooks into his ribcage.
“O Hunter, snare me his shadow,” Bucky hums, “O Nightingale, catch me his strain…else moonstruck with music and madness...I track him in vain.”
Steve would weep, if he had it in him to do anything other than lay there flat on his back and take it.
Bucky grinds in blinding-deep and stays there, rocks there; drips poetry all over the side of Steve’s neck like he’s not fucking him fit to kill.
He squeezes Steve’s throat until his eyes roll back, swats at Steve’s cheek and pulls merciless on his hair. He stuffs fingers into Steve’s gaping mouth deep enough to gag on, and hinges Steve’s jaw open so he has no choice but to set loose every raw, wrecked sound Bucky knocks out of him.
It’s fucking flawless.
“Give me one,” Bucky growls.
Steve needs no clarification beyond the spearing of Bucky’s cock into his prostate, and he reaches down between their bodies to jerk himself frantic and heavy-handed.
It should be pitiful, how little it takes. But it’s been mounting for what feels like hours, and when Bucky wrenches himself abruptly from Steve’s body to slap a hand down square over Steve’s balls and his slick, aching asshole, that orgasm crests with near-painful force.
“Fuck!” Steve’s wracked with it, shuddering and flinching from it like it’s not the makings of his very own flesh and blood.
Bucky doesn’t even wait for it to be over before he’s dipping down to lap at it; rubbing his cheek and his chest and his belly through Steve’s release on his slow crawl back up to spit it into Steve’s mouth.
“Don’t you fuckin’ swallow it,” he warns, pressing his thumb to the seam of Steve’s lips, “I want it back.”
Steve’s body is sparking chaotic, crying too soon and too much just as loud as it’s screaming too good as Bucky grips him by his sodden hair and buries his cock back inside him; falling into rhythm like he never stopped thrusting in the first place.
He wants to moan, wants to cry out for that welcome knifepoint of forced pleasure building within him, but the desperate sounds creeping onto his tongue are every bit as caged as the come he can’t swallow.
Which is the whole point, Steve flushes submissive to realize - Bucky’s got him gagged without even touching him.
He twines his limbs up around Bucky’s body, groping and pulling at him like there’s still an insufferable distance left to close. The guttural moans Bucky’s spilling into the crook of his neck only render Steve’s own noises even more pathetic; huffing high and reedy the longer they remain trapped in his throat.
“Christ, listen to you...”
Bucky pushes up onto his elbows to stare down at Steve, to watch the play of desperation on his face.
He’s no less transparent himself in how affected he is, a lifetime of ceaseless want spelled out in his gaze; hunger and rapture and the kind of adoration Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever fully earn, not really.
But it’s all right there, in the way Bucky’s looking at him; the way he’s bearing the howling force of the storm against his back just to give Steve this, and Steve is sunk.
Steve is nothing more than the sweet ruin of his body and the near painful swell of his heart for the multitudes that Bucky contains. A death sentence if you ask the history books and still the better half of Steve’s soul, Bucky is the boundless shadow and blinding light of Steve’s entire existence; his every reason for being and doing and fucking trying, after all these years.
It would be terrifying, if Steve weren’t bone-deep certain that he’s the axis Bucky’s world spins on, too.
“You found me...”
The words are almost a sob hitching off Steve’s tongue, pitched fuck-drunk and slurred around his mouthful of himself.
He’s breaking the rules and he knows it; half hopes for the crack of an open palm against his cheek for it. But the look Bucky hits him with lands harder than any physical strike could hope to; taking Steve’s face firm between his hands and staring down at him like there’s never been a truth so vital, so dire.
“I will always find you, Steve.”
And that’s just it, isn’t it? The one thing their shared existence will always narrow down to. There’s nowhere either of them could go that the other wouldn’t tear the world apart to get to, and the scant inches of distance between them right now might as well be oceans for all Steve’s burning inside to cross them.
He cups his hands around Bucky’s neck and arches up, pulls him down; pleading with everything but words for Bucky’s mouth on his, and Bucky doesn’t make him wait. He meets Steve right there in the delirium with lips and tongue and moans that rival the swelling thunder; sucking the taste of Steve off his tongue and dripping a starved groan into his mouth in its place.
“I wanna make you come,” he says, like he hasn’t already dragged one out of him, “tell me you’re gonna come.”
“Fuck, I am, I’m gonna come...”
“Say it’s for me, Steve, tell me it’s mine.”
Steve nods so hard, he can feel a bruise bloom at the base of his skull where it grates against the riverstone. Of course it’s for Bucky, everything’s for Bucky; every breath in his lungs and every beat of his stricken, obsessed heart. The sensations within him are mounting too immense, too desperate to be named pleasure, but they’re careening all the same towards the one thing Bucky wants from him, and it will only ever be Bucky’s, this perfect agony of coming undone.
“It’s yours,” he sobs, voice weak and body shaking. "Just—fuckin’ take it from me, Buck.”
He gives up all conscious hold on himself; submits entirely to the relentless drag of Bucky’s dick against his insides and the wet rasp of rock against his back as Bucky drives deep into his surrendered body, chasing that climax for the both of them.
It burns so bright, when it hits Steve; wrenched from his core and rolling sharp through the splay of his trembling frame. He cries out with it, but the storm cries louder, Bucky cries louder; moving ceaselessly through the spasms of Steve’s orgasm and drowning in the give of Steve’s body beneath him.
“Fuck, Steve, I—”
“Do it,” Steve slurs, needing nothing more than the tell-tale shudder of Bucky’s body and the way he gasps Steve’s name like a warning. “In me, Buck. Do it.”
Bucky cusses sharp, pulsing his hips as he lets go inside Steve like he can bury that seed deep enough to stick. And fuck, Steve wants it to. It’s all raw nerve on the inside but Steve never wants this to end; possessed by the slick grind of Bucky’s twitching cock and the heaving half-moans of Bucky’s breath.
“Don’t stop,” he pleads, reaching fingertips down to where their bodies are joined, where Bucky’s stuffed into him and leaking out of him. “Keep fucking me, just—just keep—”
Keep coming.
Be that monstrous entity in the woods who fucks me like it’s a haunting, ’til not even an exorcism would rid me of you.
He prods at the stretch of his swollen rim, drags his fingers through the warmth seeping out around Bucky’s cock. He wants it everywhere; brings those slick fingers up to smear over the pulse point on his neck, down the line of his throat, and Bucky heaves a moan dragged right from the marrow of his bones.
“I won’t stop,” he grits out through clattering teeth, rocking into Steve graceless and starving. “Not gonna stop, Steve.”
It sounds as much like threat as it does promise.
They’re both quaking with it, overstimulated and frigid cold and too achingly, crushingly lost in each other. For all the serum may have made them both to defy science and probability, to withstand war and stall the ravages of aging, it still couldn’t create a vessel vast enough to contain this - this raw, insatiable need for one another.
“Bucky…”
Steve looks up from the flat of his back; tips his head to offer up the stretch of his throat as he offers up a tremulous verse — a challenge — into the space between them.
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep...”
Recognition sparks dark and joyous in Bucky’s gaze. He catches Steve’s hands in his and threads their fingers together, palm against palm in a too-tight grip.
“But I have promises to keep,” he grins, “and miles to go before I sleep…”
His lips are turning up wolfish; the roll of his hips turning to something liquid and long-haul, and the rain beats down just as violent as it ever did.
Steve lets his eyes slip closed, lets the final refrain slip from his tongue before he surrenders, smiling, to the slow closing of Bucky’s teeth around his windpipe.
“...And miles to go before I sleep.”
If you’re at all curious, the poems they quote are ‘In The Forest’ by Oscar Wilde, and ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ by Robert Frost 😘
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Giant Sweet Cap’n Cakes Headcanon Masterpost!
(Fun fact, I thought most of these up while on one REALLY long hike. ^^; You can tell I fell for these three pretty hard.)
Music:
-I like the idea that, while the three all share a love of hip hop, glitch hop, electronic music in general, and a little lo-fi for chill times, they all have different tastes outside of those. (Meaning if you pass them the aux cord, they WILL argue!)
-Sweet's actually the biggest audiophile of the group, with by far the most eclectic tastes; he will literally put together playlists that go from dubstep to heavy metal to classical to rap to vaporwave to even country. The others don't really get it, but they're cool with whatever he puts on, and learn a lot of new music from him!
-He also owns an electric guitar, which he just plugs into himself to use as an amp and plays early in the morning to wake the others up if needed (he's the early riser and the other two are night owls...)
-Cap'n's definitely got a more narrow focus than the other two; he likes rap and also R&B, jazz, and even a little swing/electro swing. He's also been caught more than once listening to cheesy romantic pop songs, claiming he's just into them for their potential madamoizel-attracting uses but really he's just a sappy romantic.
-He can also rap, very well in fact, and gets Sweet to beatbox while he freestyles.
-Heck, he's just got a good singing voice in general, helped by having a built-in autotune, and dominates at karaoke!
-K_K also has a really broad range, but stays more towards the electronic end of the spectrum -- melodic dubstep, synthpop, disco, trance, chiptune, DnB, even occasionally puts on straight-up ambient spa music to chill out to (the only genre the other two will NOT tolerate.)
-K_K has also, in the past, set up entire mini-raves just by themselves, complete with glowsticks and everything, while Cap'n and Sweet were out doing whatever. They were...not pleased, when they got back, mostly because they weren't invited. All three got to have one together eventually though.
-Physical media is king in their shop; if it's not on a CD, cassette tape, or a vinyl record (or an 8-track, though they have to dig out their old player for it), they will refuse to play it, and might even ask you to leave. "MP3" is an extremely dirty word to them.
-(In fact, they don't get along too well with the MP3 player-headed robots elsewhere in the city.)
-They are indeed always listening to music on physical media as well -- K_K and Cap'n are their own CD players (though Cap'n's one of those models that's also got a built-in FM radio), while Sweet has a straight-up Walkman.
-(He's also the group's cassette champion, claiming his media of choice is superior to CDs because you can record music on BOTH sides of the tape! The other two just don't have the heart to point out that each side only holds half as much music as a CD, and you don't even have to rewind those...)
-Jury's still out on Hit Clips. Cap'n and Sweet think they're just toys, but K_K genuinely collects and appreciates them and treats them like actual music (it helps that they are only around four seconds long!)
-Believe it or not, the headphones are only decoration, all three actually just...listen to their music entirely within their own heads, though they can also switch to playing it externally on their speakers as well. Perks of being robots! Though, sometimes K_K has his internal volume up too high, and misses things that other people say because of it.
-Sweet also has an input port, and connects himself to his turntable to act as the speakers! The other two are WAY too embarrassed to ask if they can use it as well.
-Sweet can play almost any instrument you throw at him, as long as it's not a woodwind (Surprisingly, he can do brass, since those work on vibration rather than air!). He prefers his guitar or violin when he isn't spinning records on his turntable. Where the other two just enjoy music, he's the actual trained musician.
Voice headcanons:
-Sweet: Kind of deep, bass-y, lots of reverb, a slight tinny audio distortion to it like a low-quality recording that becomes much more pronounced when he gets upset or starts shouting. And since he's a speaker, you can literally feel the vibrations he makes when he's speaking!
-Cap'n: Scout from TF2. I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot get that out of my head for him. XD However, he's actually putting that voice on as an "accent" of sorts, his real voice is actually super autotune-y like K_K's, and it comes out whenever he gets flustered, his pitch only getting higher and higher as it gets worse...
-K_K: Pure autotune, he can just do whatever the hell he wants with his voice -- pitch, tone, whatever, and while he tends to keep it a little higher he can and does change it to fit his mood! He often has a completely different voice every day, but the others are used to it. He also just straight-up vocalizes sound effects (like, the kind that make you go "How did you just make that sound with your mouth?!") and can mimic other people perfectly (though the slight mechanical distortion does give it away). There are absolutely no rules when it comes to K_K's voice.
-They harmonize perfectly whenever they sing together!
Sweet:
-I like to think Sweet's actually the brains of the group; like, not SMART, he just holds their one collective braincell most often. He does any technical work when they're building stuff, like soldering circuits or the occasional programming, and even handles a lot of the actual business operations and pays the bills. The other two also like to follow his lead when it comes to rebellion plans, even if he’s not the official leader.
-That said, though? It's balanced out by him being rather hotheaded and having the shortest temper by a lot. There are REASONS why he's not usually out selling bagels with the others -- he's unfortunately prone to some more "extreme" sales tactics, like hurling half their stock at random passersby until they finally agree to buy some. On the plus side, he's always the first to step up to defend the gang from anything that dares to harm them, and is always on guard.
-He can also hold a heck of a grudge -- don't ever get on his bad side! Cap'n and K_K are mostly immune to this though, if he gets upset with them he works through it by the end of the day. It helps that they can all hug it out.
-He's a bit of a perfectionist, often working overtime to try and get everything they build exactly right. He can get really frustrated when things don't work out the way he plans, or when he can't make sense of a problem, or when Cap'n and K_K are goofing off instead of doing their part, and needs to go blast some loud music and blow off steam.
-He does have a really tough time keeping his balance, since his head is a bit heavier than the rest of his body, but he takes tripping over his own feet constantly in stride. The biggest problem he has is with dancing -- while he'll join in with the others on occasion, he can't match their more acrobatic moves and sticks more to actually PLAYING the music they're dancing to.
-He's also really, really unlucky, just in general. He actually considers the other two his good luck charms, since they help him out whenever he trips or gets into a bad spot!
-He's the fashionista of the group, surprisingly. It's difficult for him to find clothes that fit his body, so he tends to get a little creative with it and has a whole closet full of different stuff! And since Cap'n is roughly the same size they'll occasionally swap jackets.
Cap’n:
-Cap'n actually has managed to score a handful of dates with girls in the past! However, NONE of them went well, and only one actually made it to the second date (only to break up right in the middle of it), so he always ends up returning home heartbroken and in tears. Sweet and K_K, by this point just ready for it whenever they hear that he's going out that night, always dry him off before he shorts himself out, take him to bed and cuddle with him (platonically, I don't see them as brothers but I also don't see them as having that conversation until Cap'n's ready, which he clearly is NOT), remind him that it doesn't hurt forever and he isn't unlovable and that he'll find someone eventually, etc.
-They have sat him down multiple times to try and gently suggest to Cap'n that he might just not be into women? And that he’s actually turning them off by trying so hard? To which he's always just like "No, of course not. I'm straight. Love the ladies. Totally. Oh no they didn't catch me checkin' out that one dude earlier did they? Is that what this is about?!"
-(Basically, Cap'n is just a hopeless romantic in love with the idea of being in love, but is absolutely clueless as to how it works or what he actually wants, and his best buds are always there to catch him when he falls. ;v; )
-The glasses are prescription -- he's SUPER nearsighted, a hardware glitch he refuses to fix. Sometimes when he's working on something close up he'll take them off, panicking when he can't find them afterwards, only to have the others point out that they're just on his head. He’s also got non-tinted glasses, but you will not catch him DEAD wearing those unless it’s an absolute emergency.
-This dude is SUPREMELY insecure with himself. Like, his rather questionable fixation on romance aside, he basically runs off of others' validation, the "cool" persona he's spent much of his life building up being how he hides the fact that he isn't really sure who he is, or what he wants to do with his life, or what he's even good for -- the others have learned to check on him now and then whenever he hides away in the back of the shop, since he can slip into some pretty dark places when left alone to sulk. It took a long time for him to open up even to them to share his feelings, and sometimes still has doubts about whether they or anyone else really care about him as more than just The Smooth One...
-He's the only one of the three to actually enjoy the occasional silence, especially when he's trying to think, or whenever he's upset. So, his headphones also serve a dual purpose -- they're noise-cancelling!
-He's the video guy, carrying around a small camcorder and constantly trying to record the group's activities, to put together into music videos! He also just likes to record himself doing stupid stunts for posterity, though K_K just takes these and makes (affectionate) blooper reels.
-Cap'n is not his real name, similar to K_K. However, unlike K_K, he refuses to say what it is, just that it's embarrassing.
K_K:
-K_K has a bad habit of just completely zoning out when he gets into his music, getting completely lost in the groove and needing to be pulled back to reality. It's not a bad thing during jam sessions, but at work, or in the middle of a battle...not so much.
-He kind of needs to have some kind of music going at all times -- silence drives him absolutely CRAZY! Though, because he gets distracted by his own music, he then misses out on entire conversations, only tuning back in towards the end. Sometimes the other two have to repeat or summarize what they just said for him.
-He knows sign language, and taught the others to use it. They're able to communicate reasonably well no matter how loud their shop gets, or on days when K_K isn't able to form words properly (he's just shy, and even when he isn't he gets tongue-tied a LOT).
-He's easily the best dancer of the three, and uses his extendable body to get really creative with his moves! He even knows a little ballroom, somehow, which he'll pull out sometimes to make the others laugh.
-(Seriously, K_K CANNOT stand to see Sweet or Cap'n not smiling. He'll do anything to keep the group's spirits up, usually cracking jokes during a scrap project or doing little favors, and they appreciate all his efforts!)
-K_K has the WORST sleep cycle, ever. If you let him, he will stay up all night working or partying, finally going to bed at 6AM, and will then sleep until 6PM if the others don't wake him up at some point. If they know he was up really late they'll let him sleep in a little, but he's often pretty sleep-deprived and running solely on sugar and caffeine, which doesn't help his natural loopiness.
-He is a VERY physical guy. Seriously, he will just scoop up and hold Sweet or Cap'n like a cat every five minutes; at first they were just like "Oh. Okay. We're hugging now I guess," but after a while they got more used to it and even anticipate when K_K is going to do it. And he also initiates tons of snuggles and gives piggyback rides whenever one of his bandmates (usually Sweet) requests.
-K_K actually scrapbooks, collecting pictures and little mementos of places he and the others have gone and things they've done. After the library fountain is sealed, he pulls them out to show everyone else from Cyber City and reminisce about home.
-It's very hard to make K_K angry, since he tends to stay super chill and brushes off almost everything. But, on those very, very rare occasions when something does get under his metal outer casing, he'll go full-on silent treatment, not speaking to anyone for up to a week as he sulks and stomps around the junk shop, and even refuses to play any music! And no amount of sweets or hugs or cheering up will bring him out of it, either; the other two have learned to just wait him out and let him have his space, letting him come to them when he's finally ready to talk about it.
Misc:
-Though all three love everything sweet, K_K's the only one who really goes overboard with it, making whole meals out of candy. Sweet, ironically enough, actually prefers more salty/savory snacks, while the less is said about Cap'n's hot sauce addiction, the better.
-Okay, actually, I will say more about it. Cap'n loves spicy food in general, and literally drinks tabasco sauce right from the bottle. However, he's got a bad habit of daring himself to eat hotter and hotter stuff, ESPECIALLY if someone is watching, and can easily get in WAY over his head before begging for milk.
-They also all totally drink battery acid like Queen.
-Heck, being both Darkners and robots, they can really eat literally anything. Normal food, milk, oil, batteries, gallons of pure sugar, toothpaste, moss, glitter (NEVER let K_K get hold of any though, he gets lost in the sauce), broken glass, etc, and of course their own deep-fried CDs. Only thing they can't do is water, since, you know, robots.
-With a lot of the aesthetics of Cyber City being close to turn-of-the millennium and early 2000s (CDs and boomboxes, popup ads, wired mice, Queen theorized to be one of those see-through iMacs, EVERYTHING about Spamton), I like the idea that the boys DO NOT have smartphones, and if you handed them one they'd have no clue how to use it or what to do with it. But they do have cell phones: Sweet's got an old flip phone covered in stickers (courtesy of K_K), Cap'n splurged for one of those that slide open and with a camera (he set his background to a tiny, grainy photo of the three of them!), and K_K has one of those indestructible Nokia bricks, that Sweet got him after he kept breaking all his other ones. They can all text, but that's about as high-tech as they get.
-Same with tablets or newer computers in general, they might share one tiny netbook at most. Cap’n never remembers to log out of his Dark World dating profile, so the others will snoop or post embarrassing things to it.
-They're really, really durable, even without milk -- they're made of 90s plastic and electronics, so it takes a LOT to take one of them down! Plus, they regularly repair each other back at the shop (it took a LONG time for them to gain enough trust to physically open and work on each other), so as long as at least one's left to drag the other two to safety they'll be just fine.
-However, if they get splashed with water, caught in the rain, or worse, drowned, they will short out, or shut down on the spot to prevent damage. Once they completely dry out, though, they'll start right back up, no worse for wear. When only one of them gets waterlogged the other two will break out the hair dryers to dry them out faster, or even pop them into the oven in a pan of rice like an iPod that got dropped in the toilet...
Finally, backstory?
-Cap'n and K_K met first -- maybe both as new recruits to another, much less savory gang of music equipment robots, and bonded as a result of being put upon by the more established members (Cap'n probably even had to defend K_K more than once when his inattentiveness got him into trouble!) But, they both had enough one day, and decided to break off and form their own thing, making music and selling CD bagels to support themselves.
-Sweet, meanwhile, has the complete opposite background, coming from a rich and important family of musicians in Cyber City who regularly entertained Queen in her mansion (hence why he always used to get sweets from her!) But, he was kind of the black sheep, preferring his own style of music, and decided to strike out on his own as a street musician instead.
-They met when Cap'n and K_K accidentally set up to sell bagels on Sweet's usual corner, and he battled them to reclaim his turf. But, they were evenly-matched (even two-to-one; Sweet's definitely the strongest of the trio!), and impressed each other with both their fighting and musical skills, so Sweet decided to join their tiny group, and thus Sweet Cap'n Cakes was formed.
-After the whole situation with Queen is resolved, SCC turns their rebellion into an anti-DRM kind of thing? Nobody can hold back the music, man!
#deltarune#sweet cap'n cakes#deltarune sweet#deltarune cap'n#deltarune k_k#sweet#cap'n#k_k#emheadcanons
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A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>
So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~
This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.
I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛
So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.
(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)
1. Sticker
THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT
THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS
The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao
It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.
With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.
STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH
To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!
It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.
Literally, no one does it like them!
The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)
The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.
The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?
The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.
I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.
"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH
Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!
But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO
BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW
This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚
2. Lemonade
(⌐■_■)
Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee
The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.
This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!
Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃
"WOOF"
I might have just barked too wOW
Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm
Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅
I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.
3. Breakfast
Now breakfast time, oh jeez!
AAAHAHFU—
Summer 127's bestie!
If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.
You know what it is.
"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP
Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day? Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞
And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)
This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.
Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.
4. Focus
Did I just invade a private call? LMAO
The analog voice filters make it like so.
Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf
My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,
"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha
"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!
This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.
Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?
I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ
I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!
5. The Rainy Night
Ooh, the holy melancholy!
Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.
This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.
The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.
I think I crumbled from this one.
This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.
What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.
Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.
Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.
Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.
"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?
And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.
6. Far
Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...
Alright!
The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.
Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.
Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~
Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!
As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!
I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha
I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???
Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK
Not my favorite, but still great though!
But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???
7. Bring The Noize
Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations
HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES
I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO
This screams so much confidence!
The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!
This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.
JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)
THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM
When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT
OUTTA MY WAY
“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN
You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.
A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.
8. Magic Carpet Ride
This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.
Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.
This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(
The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.
Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.
Okay alright Doyoung Grande!
And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.
The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.
This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.
9. Road Trip
This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.
Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and eventually reaching your destination.
Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)
Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.
But where do I go—
I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.
Just Wholesome™ vibes.
I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.
This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.
10. Dreamer
Eyyyy such a refreshing song!
This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!
It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)
The horns make it more lively I think!
Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.
The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf
Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...
There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.
And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!
11. Promise You
MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!
The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.
It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.
The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.
It definitely sounds like a promise.
A song about platonic intimacy.
This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”
Because they cherish their fans like that.
It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.
Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.
This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha
I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.
✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚
if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞
#this was too long oh goodness#idek if some of you will actually take interest to read all these blabbers but yeah#but it was fun listing these down hahaha#nct 127#nct#sticker#sticker.talks#taeil#johnny#taeyong#yuta#doyoung#jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jungwoo#mark#mark lee#haechan#nct fluff#nct smut#nct reviews#long post
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(121-135 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10])
names and thoughts below cut
121/ The Black Dog - White EP (2023)
normally this would be too short for my list (and it's TOO SHORT)
but hot damn does it hit me good. black dog knows what i love. (new) (bleep)
---
122/ Towa Tei - MACH 2012 (2012)
holy shit towa's brought in the vibert vibes! hell yeah!
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123/ MonoNeon - Jelly Belly Dirty Somebody (2023)
man. this is SO silly… but funky. what the hell.
soulful, even.
impossible to turn away from.
title track is my fav :)
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124/ (all of the music compos from Xenium 2022)
usual mixed bag. too much dnb for my taste.
I think AceMan was really bringing the bangers here.
highlights with "Dark Angel" and "The Construction" as well.
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125/ Atom™ - Nacht (2023)
techno vibe but with a texture I'm not used to. it's cool.
finally, a recent atomtm release that feels like its for me
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126/ VA - Escape From Chicago: Loose Squares Compilation Vol. 1 (2012)
I'd call it "juke and juke adjacent" but the title literally says chicago, which is a better encapsulation.
i love the synthetic timbres in here.
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127/ Luke Vibert - Machine Funk (2023) my favorite vibert vibe is the "dizzy" sound that often permeates his music. there's some of that in here ("Nonce Tarter" f.ex), but it's drenched in a more...... well, (drum)machine flavor. "Juxtafication" fav track maybe? or "Nonce Tarter"
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128/ Camellia - 灰の羽搏 (2023)
わーい! goes hard!
the scratches in track 4!!!
the journey in t6!
t9 kinda silly but i dig it.
t12 i ADORE the bass rhythm!
t13 those vocals hit right imo
tbh title track is my least favorite, to taste.
overall a good time!
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129/ Eprom - Untitled Emotional Acid (2023)
absolutely BONKERS how squarepusher this is.
they dont lie that acid really does emotional (acid) (untitled)
---
130/ Snail's House - lumi (2023)
oh, it's filled with beauty.
winter sounds to distract me from the warm weather outside my window.
that interlude is astounding.
---
131/ DJ Warlord - Mystery Leopard Spins Tracks At Local Nightclub (2023)
light in a comfortable way. not lacking heft but not heavy.
super clean. timbres I generally associate with "night music" yet this is filled with sunshine.
its good tunes.
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132/ Voices From The Lake - Voices From The Lake (2012)
deep deep deep deep techno.
today was a coding day and this provided a perfect background for some pondering.
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133/ Ital Tek - Timeproof (2023)
dark, massive, heavy… somber?
with intensity.
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134/ Ganja White Night - Unity (2023)
no comment on the videos other than "hmm not for me"
music tho? fun! over the top "epic" vibes with some wobs
i love how strong the opening is. first 4 tracks? banger after banger.
---
May
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135/ Ssaladd - Ssaladd (2020)
wow and flutter without the lofi underpinning? wild
the really barefaced wobbles give this jazz a flavor that ive simply never heard before
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(next page)
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FIVE ALBUMS YOU NEED IN YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW!!!
aka, My Top 5 of 2020, but I didn’t want to seem too retro!
Yep, I have a classic rock blog. Yep, I think that the best rock and roll in history is being made RIGHT NOW. And yep, ALL of it is being made by women.
(Shown at top, Nova Twins by Ant Adams [x] and The Tissues by Michael Espleta [x]. I was planning to make a collage of all my faves in concert, but not all of them were able to play in 2020. Both of these photos are pre-pandemic.)
There’s been quite a bit of movement on this list, and all five of these have spent some time at Number 1 as the year has done (gestures broadly) All This™. Anyone looking for rock and roll is going to dig any of these.
Rocking out is just the start of it, though. Wrestling with my bipolarity and schizophrenia is tough on a good day, and there haven’t been too many of those lately. The plague has also taken its toll around me, with two family members dead and a third who’s doing better, but will likely never be all the way back. (Mask up, kids!)
I’ve written plenty about how deeply Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers have moved me this year (and will do so again), but in those rare stretches where I’ve had enough spare energy to listen to music at all these days, I’ve mostly been looking for more than beautiful music. Heavy times need heavy lifting, and I find that in heavy music.
The five albums here have all helped carry me, pointing the way toward light.
1) BULLY, SUGAREGG
Alicia Bognanno is a force of nature as a guitarist, vocalist, composer, and producer/engineer. (While working on her degree in audio engineering at MTSU, she interned with Steve Albini, who remains both a fan and an admirer). A Nashville transplant from Minnesota, she’s still a natural fit in her home on Sub Pop: as heavy as Soundgarden, as hooky as Sleater-Kinney.
I was blown away hearing her searing honesty while working through her discoveries of her bisexuality and bipolarity (double bi!), and her triumphant roar lifts me out of my seat every time I listen.
“She sings the hell out of [these songs], her voice fraying to the point of combustion every time she launches to the top of her range. This is phenomenal music for converting anger and anxiety into unbound joy.” ~Stereogum, Album of the Week
Also, check this fantastic interview with Alicia in the New York Times talking about what she’s gone through to get here.
TURN IT UP!
youtube
2) GANSER, LOOK AT THAT SKY
Ganser syndrome is a rare dissociative disorder characterized by nonsensical or wrong answers to questions and other dissociative symptoms such as fugue, amnesia or conversion disorder, often with visual pseudohallucinations and a decreased state of consciousness. ~Wikipedia #it me
‘Just Look At That Sky’ doesn’t presume to offer solutions; it’s an honest document of what it feels like to wade through anxiety, day by day, not a survival guide or handbook of answers none of us actually have. Whether or not you pay attention to this, Ganser are simply one of the most invigorating, exciting new bands. ~Clashmusic
I saw one very positive review compare Ganser to a cross between Fugazi and Sonic Youth, but I think they hit much, much harder than either of those. And as you can surely guess, I also deeply relate to their themes of mental illness and dissociation while trying to make it through All This™. But my god, are they TIGHT. This is a BAND.
Ganser has two fantastic lead vocalists, and on “Bad Form”, bassist/vocalist Alicia Gaines wrote the song for the voice of keyboardist/vocalist Nadia Garofolo. Alicia also wrote a FANTASTIC essay on the strains that making an album during a pandemic puts on the mental health of the entire band at talkhouse: “Writing, recording, reaching out, balancing relationships outside and within the band, I found (and still find) myself under-rested and agitated to no particular end. More than not doing enough, I was not enough.”
(If you can’t relate to that, I can’t relate to you, tbh.)
This video also does a fantastic job of showing dissociation. TURN IT UP!
youtube
3) THE TISSUES, BLUE FILM
“Blue Film” is a ten-song shot of dagger-twisting electro-(s)punk. It’s completely addictive from the very first listen. The tour de force is “Rear Window”, an art-punk masterpiece of slashing guitars and mad caterwauling. Copious doses of jaunty poetics and social commentary reward the earlooker patient enough to untangle Kristine Nevrose’s hysterical meowing about intergalactic salt shakers and hysterectomies, but I’m too emotionally invested to look under the hood.” ~ Sputnik Music
“Rear Window” is in fact my most-played 2020 track. TURN IT UP!
youtube
4) GUM COUNTRY, SOMEWHERE
It’s not all heavy! But even when I’m looking for something light and hooky, I need a bite, and Gum Country has done it with the kind of swirly, feeedback-laden wall of sound that Lush or Yo La Tengo would make if they lived in LA. (Recent transplants to SoCal from Vancouver, I do think that the sunshine has gone straight to their heads, in the very best way.)
Indie music nerds will know guitarist/composer/singer/front woman Courtney Garvin from The Courtneys, and she really does throw up a glorious wall of sound. I adore this video too! Sweet, swinging, fun -- and yes, the drummer is playing keyboard with one hand while slapping the skins with the other!
I mentioned earlier that all five of these albums have spent part of the year at #1 on my list -- I think that this one might have spent the longest stretch there. Like all shoegaze, even as hooky as this, the truth of these songs is revealed in VOLUME. TURN IT UP!
youtube
5) NOVA TWINS, WHO ARE THE GIRLS?
Now, THIS is heavy! Amy Lee (vocals, guitar) and Georgia South (bass) are fucking LOUD, and insanely intense. A mix of grime, hip-hop, metal, punk, and good old rock and roll, they’re a harder-hitting, more theatrical Prodigy, with a pyre of intensity that recalls the heaviest howls of Rage Against The Machine. Indeed, Nova Twins spent a good bit of 2019 playing heavy metal festivals and toured as openers for Prophets of Rage. (Tom Morello has been a fan and supporter from the beginning.)
As you may have noted in the photo at the top of this post, their musical audacity extends to visuals too: they design their own clothes, hair, and makeup, they art direct their own videos, and more. They impress the hell out of me, and I’ve been a huge fan since hearing their first singles in 2018. I’ll plant a flag and say that Georgia South in particular is the most innovative musician on any instrument in any genre right now, but they’re both absolutely monsters.
I’m honestly not at all sure that #5 is high enough for this, but I’m absolutely certain that after this video, you’re gonna need to rest for a little. LOL
“Taxi” is the story of two gleefully and creatively violent women shaking up the local crime syndicate as they use a vintage cab for their moving murder scene. This is the movie that Robert Rodriguez wishes he was making with Sin City, if it were combined with Blade Runner and The Matrix. And gangsters. And a snake.
I’m gonna take your crown
I’m gonna, I’m gonna bleed you out
We demand it by the hour
We devour, control, power
I’m gonna burn it down
Even the, even the royals bow
So not the same kind of therapeutic work being explored on this rekkid, but you know what? Fucking shit up is therapeutic too!
Definitely take this full screen, and for the love of fuck, TURN IT UP!
youtube
SO. Not done with the best of 2020 yet? I’m sure not! A lot of my favorite songs aren’t on albums (at least not yet), so for an unedited list of everything I’m finding, check out my Spotify list, 2020: Shuffle This List! 268 songs and counting, over 15 hours, and not finished yet. I’m still checking out everyone else’s Best of lists (including yours! Message me links to yours!!!), so will probably be adding to this for most of 2021, too.
And for more banging tracks by women from 2020, plus a few 2019 gems that I’m still grooving to, check out my more thoroughly curated Spotify playlist Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam. (You’ll see a couple of these tracks there!) I’m working on a YouTube playlist and an essay to properly roll that one out. I’m also still tweaking the ending, but the three dozen or so tunes there are definitely bangin’.
Tell me if you hear anything you dig here, and tell me what YOU’VE found! We’re gonna get through this together.
Yr pal,
Timmy
#me#new classics#classic rock#women in rock#best of 2020#bully#ganser#the tissues#gum country#nova twins#essay#youtube#punk rock#punk
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❝Calmative❞ → (adj.): (of a drug) to have a sedative effect.
Pairing: Takami Keigo x fem!reader
Genre: Smut & fluff
Wordcount: 2737
notes: doing a fic comeback after.. 4-5 years? so, im probably more than just a bit rusty
You’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you dig through your purse in search for your keys. You’ve worked overtime every single day of the past two weeks, and the consequences were slowly starting to catch up on you. Your neck and shoulders are sore and stiff with stress and the bags under your eyes had only gotten more and more pronounced as the week had passed. You miss your boyfriend too, between your current project and his job as a Pro Hero, you haven’t had time to see each other.
It has been too long; way too long for your personal liking.
The thought of not having an alarm ring at the crack of dawn manages to console you just a bit, and you consider for a moment if you should book a trip to the nearest spa. Your back would thank you and you feel like you could use some time to completely switch off your brain. Maybe Keigo and you could go together, you muse with a small smile playing on your lips. If you could convince the damn birdbrain, that is.
Your fingers manage to lock around your keychain in your purse and find the right one in the bundle. You unlock the door and push it open, entering your apartment before you stop in your tracks when you notice the low sound of a bass playing from your living room. You frown slightly as you close the door behind you, putting your purse to the side and toe off your sneakers, your worry disappearing when upon seeing the familiar pair already standing there.
You make your way too the living room, not surprised when you spot your boyfriend sitting on the couch, head tilted back against the backrest and his eyes closed. You wonder for a second if he’s asleep, when you spot the still lit cigarette in the ashtray, figuring he was just resting his eyes for a moment.
You’re about to ask him how he got into your apartment just as your white curtains sway in the evening breeze and you notice the double doors to your balcony are both wide open.
Sighing you make your way over to the couch, standing behind him as you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead.
“How many times do I have to tell you to not break in through my balcony, bird brain?” You mockingly scold him, voice light and teasingly.
Keigo opens his eyes at the kiss, staring up at you with bright and beaming eyes, “When you give me my own key, that’s when.” He replies and you lean down to this time press a chaste kiss to his lips. He chuckles softly before you make your way around the couch, sitting down beside him with a groan.
“You threw away two keys already,” You remind him as you stretch, feeling your lower back pop, “And it takes time to get a new one made.”
“Details.” He waves his hand dismissively at you and offers you a playful grin that makes your heart ache with love.
You only hum in response before you shift on the couch, slumping against him with a yawn. His expression softens as he takes in your features, perceptive golden eyes roaming over your tired and worn out expression as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against his side, resting your head on his shoulder.
You close your eyes for just a second, relaxing to the sound of Keigo humming above you. Now that you’re with him again, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and natural musk you truly realize how much you missed him. You shift slightly against him and your breasts rising and falling with a soft breath and you clench your thighs together, swallowing.
Has it really been that long?
Just the familiar scent, and the warmth radiating from his body is enough to arouse you. The realization makes your shift again, biting down on your lip. You try to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you forget that at this point Keigo knows your body better than you. You don’t notice how Keigo’s gaze have darkened as he watches you.
He decides to let you squirm for now, a small, amused smirk playing on his lips as he leans forward just enough so he can pick up the now gone out cigarette from the ashtray. He places it between his lips, before a crimson feather picks up the lighter next to the ashtray, flicking the spark wheel and a small flame springs forth, relighting the cigarette.
Keigo takes a deep drag, keeping his breath for a while before he slowly breathes out the smoke. You never take your eyes off him. Watching as the smoke slowly snakes up through the air before it fades out and vanishes.
You don’t approve of his smoking habits.
But, even then, there’s something so alluring about it.
How he holds the cigarette between those long, slender ring clad fingers. The way he flicks his thumb to ash it. The way his lips pout around the filter when he takes a drag. The way he sometimes let it dangle loosely from his plumb lips. The lazy way he breathes out the smoke, the grey mist flowing from his lips.
You don’t approve of his smoking habits.
But watching him do it never fails to turn you on.
Those fingers. Your mind wanders as you watch him. You’ve been craving his touch for quite a while, work having kept you apart.
Slick pools in your panties as you imagine those long fingers as they curl inside out, pressing against that spot within you, thumb circling your clit. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, suddenly feeling hot despite the evening breeze from the open doors.
Keigo asks, his piercing eyes focused on your face.
You can feel your cheeks heat up. “What? No! I’m just so worn out from work.” You avert your eyes away from him, your body flushing with embarrassment as your arousal pooled in your panties.
Keigo raises an eyebrow at you, and you can’t help but squirm under the intenseness of his gaze. Your throat goes dry and you can feel your slick slowly dampening the fabric of your panties, clenching your thighs together. After giving you another up and down, Keigo decides to drop the subject, figuring you’d be begging for him soon enough with the way you’ve been squirming on the couch and combined with the increased heat he sensed between your legs.
You tear your gaze from him, trying to ignore how your cunt is throbbing. You jolt a little when you feel his lips brush against the back of your nape, placing a chaste, gentle kiss to your sensitive skin.
“You’re so tense, baby bird. You gotta relax.” His hot breath hits the shell of your ear and you feel a shiver running down your spine. His low voice and the proximity to you make you gasp out in surprise.
Keigo chuckles lightly in amusement by your reaction and pressed another kiss to your nape, this one firmer than the other, “I think I know just the way to get you to relax, baby bird.”
“C’mere.” Keigo orders and grabs your hips, making you swing your legs over his, and seating you on his lap. You’re close enough that you can feel his breath hitting your skin in puffs. You swallow around nothing and instinctively look up into his eyes before your gaze falls to his lips.
You feel as if your breath is caught in your throat as he brings the cigarette up to his mouth, breathing in the toxicity. His free hand reached up for your face, gently grabbing your cheek and pulling you closer.
“Keigo, what-”
He cuts you off, gently using his fingers to part your lips and suddenly he’s blowing the smoke into your parted mouth. His lips occasionally brush against yours, as the grey smoke swirls in the air between you. He presses your lips together at the end of his exhale, kissing you softly. “Breathe it in.” he encourages you.
You do as you’re told, taking in a deep breath of air, and letting the smoke infiltrate your lungs. Whether it was the smoke or the proximity to Keigo, you suddenly feel lightheaded and dizzy and you find yourself gasping for air. He chuckles, barely giving you a moment to catch your breath before his lips are pressed against yours again.
Your entire body feels hot with arousal and you can’t help but gyrate your hips down, pressing your clothed cunt against his crotch. Your body flushes with embarrassment as you avert your gaze, your arousal hot in your panties.
“I need you…”
Keigo felt a smirk spread across his lips at your confession and he leans forward, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray before you feel his hands sliding up your thighs, pulling you skirt up just enough to grant him access.
“Mhm? You want me, baby bird?” He teases as he reaches between your legs, fingers sliding along your clothed cunt. “You’re all soaked. Such a filthy songbird.”
His crude words make you moan softly, and you gyrate your hips forward, desperately searching for some much-needed friction. He clicks his tongue as he pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, slowly sliding his fingers along your folds. Your breath quivers, causing the blood to rush straight to his crotch. He teases your lightly, index and ring finger spreading you apart while his thumb glides over your sensitive clit.
He continues teasing you for a while before he pushes a thick finger into you. A shaky breath escapes your lips as you immediately clench around the finger; whining deep in your throat when it’s far from enough to sate you.
You scramble for something to hold onto as Keigo curls his finger inside, nudging along your velvet walls. Moans of his name spills from your lips as he soon pushes another finger into your core, as his thumb rubs circles into your clit, your slick making the movement smoother.
“Keigo!” You cry out as you slowly roll your hips downward, chasing the height that’s quickly building up.
“Already baby bird?” He mocks, voice heavy with lust as he leans forward to capture your lips with his again, swallowing all the moans that escape you. You manage to nod as you cling onto him, nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes another finger into you, the stretch burning so deliciously.
“Come one then songbird, be good and cum on my fingers.” Keigo whispers and brushes his fingers along your jaw. His fingers are reaching spots you can only dream off. Your head spins at the feelings, so sensitive after having missed his touch for so long and your body tenses up as you finally cum around his fingers, clenching down tightly while gushing, slick running down his wrist and your thighs. He keeps working you through it, prolonging it as his thumb rubs against your swollen clit.
You fall forward against him as you gasp for air, your body trembling slightly with the aftereffects of your orgasm. You whine as he pulls his fingers from your wet cunt and you watch with you breath in caught in your throat as he brings his hand to his mouth. His fingers are glistening from your juices and he wraps his lips around his digits, licking them clean with a moan, never for a second taking his eyes off your expression.
Once he’s licked his hand clean of your slick, he reaches down, pushing his sweats down his thighs just enough to free his erection and then reaches under your skirt, thumbs hooking in your soaked panties as he pushes them down and off you before throwing them somewhere in the room, not caring where they land.
Keigo leans back against the couch and grabs his cock, thumb rubbing over his tip to spread the pre-cum around and then strokes himself a few times, a deep groan falling from his lips.
“C’mon, songbird, be a good girl and ride me.” He says and you nod. Your mouth waters at the sight in front of you, Keigo leaning back against the couch, crimson wings spread wide behind him as he’s fisting his cock. You can feel more slick dripping from your cunt when you raise yourself up on your knees, hovering above his cock.
Keigo reached up to hold your hip with one hand, the other grabbing the base of his cock, slowly rubbing the tip along your wet folds and smacking the tip against your sensitive clip. You gasp a few times as pleasure sparks through your body before he angles the tip towards your entrance. He pushes the head inside before the hand that was fisting the base of his cock comes up to rub against your clit as you slowly sink down on him.
“That’s it, baby bird,” He coos as he leans in to kiss you again.
The stretch burns as you slowly sink down on his cock, your cunt spasming around him and suddenly you’re gushing again, your mouth open in a silent moan as another orgasm ripples through your body. He works you through it, praising you for being a good girl, taking his cock so well. You’re gasping for air as he finally bottoms out, the head of his cock snuggly nestling against your cervix. He’s reaching so deep, and you feel so full. Even to this day you struggle to take his cock.
You allow yourself a moment to catch your breath before you slowly raise yourself up, supporting yourself with a hand on his shoulder and you reach out with the other to grab onto his wing, fingers burying themselves in crimson feathers. Your action draws a moan like any other from his lips, raw and almost feral. The slide of his cock is wet and slippery as you lift yourself, thighs trembling as you hold yourself up before only the head of his cock is in, before slamming yourself down, fucking yourself hard on his cock.
You repeat the motion a few times before you settle on a fast pace, your hips stuttering as you move messily and he reaches out to grab your hips, guiding and aiding your movements. A change in angle have him hitting your g-spot over and you cry out in pleasure.
“Fuck- Keigo! Keigo imcomingimcoming,” The words spill from your mouth like a mantra and your hips bucks desperately as you chase your high. The wave builds and builds before it comes crashing hard, cunt spasming and thighs twitching. The way your cunt clenches around him has him moaning out and he holds your hips harder as he fucks more earnestly up into you, causing another orgasm to ripple through your body.
Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you instinctively try to close your legs, but Keigo keeps them spread apart, disregarding your oversensitivity as he uses your sopping cunt for his own pleasure.
“Fuck, baby girl, your pussy is the best,” he groans and leans into capture your lips as he spills himself inside of you, painting your velvety walls white with his cum. He lets go of your hip and brings a hand down, rubbing your sensitive clit with your thumb making you whine and try to move away but he holds tightly onto you.
“C’mon, songbird, give me just one more,” he whispers against your lips and soon after he forces a last orgasm from you, electricity sparking through you body before you slump weakly against him, breath heavy. Your body feels numb and sensitive at the same time and you close your eyes, as you place your head on his chest. You can feel him slowly get soft inside you and the mixture of your and his cum dripping from your wrecked cunt, but you can’t be bothered to move to clean up.
Keigo wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close as he learns forward, careful not to shuffle you too much, to grab his package of cigarettes, lighting one up as his wings encompasses the both of you.
“Mhm, still feeling stressed baby bird?” he teases lightly, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.
#takami keigo x reader#keigo takami x reader#hawks x reader#hawks#takami keigo#keigo takami#bnha#bnha smut#takami keigo smut#keigo takami smut#cas.writes
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Good Girls 4x08 Soundtrack Review
Disappeared for a minute this week, but I’m back (for now) to shout at you all about what we heard in 4x08!! Let’s blame this ep’s emotional whiplash for delaying this review, cool?
Songs that made me feel things?
No ~feelings~ feelings which... honestly thank god?? Considering how Rio’s betrayed/hurt/shocked/sad face at the picnic bench caused me serious emotional D E S T R U C T I O N that I’ve yet to fully recover from.
Montage check! A wasted or taken soundtrack opportunity?
STRIP. CLUB. MON. TAGE.
An absolute award-winning (by me—I awarded it) *FRENCH RAP* banger by Laylow called ‘MEGATRON’ that was basically the epitome of what I consider a perfect Good Girls soundtrack choice.
Bop/banger status?
THERE’S NOTHING I LOVE MORE FROM GOOD GIRLS THAN A BOP/BANGER PAIRED WITH A MONTAGE. NOTHING. ‘MEGATRON’ WAS A TOP TIER CHOICE AND NOW I WANT TO CRIME PROPOSE TO JONATHAN LEAHY???? DOES THAT EVEN MAKE SENSE? WHO KNOWS, I AM OVERWHELMED.
Any memorable songs?
M E G A T R O N straight into my veins babyyyyyyy
Fave song from the episode?
*downs a shot with Ruby and gets up on the Sweet P’s stage with Beth and Annie*
(guess)
Least fave song from the episode?
Ok so like... there were other songs in 4x08, but Laylow saved the goddamn day and tbh that’s all that matters to me!
(If I HAD to pick, it’d be ‘He Lives Alone’ by Dory Previn bc 70s music simply doesn’t jive with me or gg, for that matter, and I’m not sure it added anything to Gene’s confession montage.)
How did the music fit with the episode’s ~vibe~?
Like I said in my lil intro... 4x08 left me with some emotional whiplash. When the ep ended, I was like THAT WAS SO GREAT but then all of the heavy Rio backstory stuff came rushing back and it all made me DEEPLY sad for a few days?? So I guess... I also had mixed feelings about the song choices/vibes.
Still digging Rio’s bar vibes (‘The Sun Will Open Its Core’ by Sleep Party People) and Sweet P’s literal bass-induced vibes (day or night, Sweet P’s always be bangin’). The final scene’s song/vibe (’Yakuza Park’ by Surf City) reminded me a TINY bit of ‘Kimono Hill’—something about it felt both optimistic/troubled. As for the 70s stuff... JL continues to lose me, tbh.
OH but get this: I loved the custom score work in this ep too. Like when Beth’s in the hot tub and disassociating? Magic. The arrest scene? Poor choices were made, but I appreciate how the pulsating score picked up in tandem with the tension/heartbreak.
Wishlist/Manifest-The-Songs-You-Want List
Hmm honestly kind of stumped about what I want from the soundtrack at this point. More memorable song choices for episodes as a whole?? Dare I say ‘surprise me’??
Overall ranking: MEGA (wink) into only one song this week/10
Episode Track Listing:
The Sun Will Open Its Core - Sleep Party People
MEGATRON - Laylow
Yakuza Park - Surf City
He Lives Alone - Dory Previn
The Inventor’s Dream - McDonald and Giles
(Those last two songs aren’t available to stream anywhere, but JL wrote a brief twitter thread about them, and it’s p cool even though I will forever disagree with the 70s song choices!)
...
(good girls s4 playlist)
(nmc’s gg s1-s4 faves playlist)
(previously on nmc’s gg soundtrack review: 4x07)
#give me ALL the strip club montage gifsets#i don't think we appreciated it enough!!!#BETH AND ANNIE. ON STAGE. AT A STRIP CLUB.#WITH A FRENCH RAP SONG PLAYING.#LIKE. COME ON.#do we think i'll write up 4x09's review before the hiatus is over? hahahahaha#xoxo your friendly neighborhood good girls soundtrack aficionado#oh look she's talking about music again#nbc good girls#good girls nbc#gg s4#gg 4x08#good girls soundtrack#gg soundtrack#nmc good girls s4 soundtrack review
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