#because he likes him so much- he can't deal with the idea of looking ridiculous in front of him by wearing something like that

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as teachers

requested by @weird-bookworm ! it's a little to the left of what you asked but i hope it's alright anyway ><

masterlist

seungcheol

architecture professor. kind of thanks to physics!cheol anon for this idea but he really encourages hands-on learning especially for his subject, and he draws big diagrams on the board and gestures wildly with his hands as he's explaining why the models work and what do the students think of it? also he definitely gives vibes of someone who high fives the students when their models withstand his shaking tests, but also laughs and claps when they fall apart. because it's all about learning, isn't it? and he's with you to help you learn every step of the way. 

jeonghan

kindergarten teacher. cannot for the life of him handle kids older than that because then they get too tricksy and talkative for him and he gets tired too easily to deal with that. actually really good at handling the toddlers. he's also very pretty so all the kids unironically hang onto his every word, basically making him the god at keeping children in line. when he gets too tired of running around after them he just goes “kids :((( jeonghan is tired :(((“ and they immediately settle down to do something else

joshua

music teacher (1). he's a total department crush (and even school-wide crush) amongst the other teachers because he's so pretty and so kind, always and accidentally keeps making teachers fall for him bc he talks to them so nicely w that pretty smile of his. renowned for his ability to compose melodies on the piano on the spot, and always has students wanting him to help (cough compose for them) parts of their composition work. no one knows what he does outside of work, though. it's like he disappears into thin air after school finishes. 

junhui

gives me eccentric uni professor vibes. sits on his desk with his feet dangling and asks all sorts of strange and irrelevant questions to the students that are, actually, not strange and entirely relevant. has everyone walking out of his lectures feeling like a changed person because he either a) managed to get horribly off track or b) made them rethink their entire life choices. loved by all, and maybe a bit too much. poor guy definitely had an obsessed student try to follow him home before he got lost himself and so they both ended up in the middle of nowhere

hoshi

chemistry teacher. no other reason other than i think he'd look great with a pair of goggles on his forehead pushing his fringe back at funny angles whilst he grins maniacally and goes, “hey, kids, today we're gonna set things on fire!!!!”. so passionate about teaching these things to the students, and rambles on like he only has 5 minutes left on earth and he's gonna use every second to cram in as much chemistry knowledge into the students’ brains as he can in that time. it works, too. his passion inspires so many of them to take chemistry further up in the school. 

wonwoo

history teacher. all the students want him for their teacher when they take history because he's actually, like, competent and knows stuff. known for taking no shit when it comes to doing assignments on time because he sets reasonable deadlines and if you can't make them, then that's on you, not him. students love him. also super duper helpful if you have any questions and is always free at lunch to help bc he'll do anything to escape the hyperactive claws of mr. kwon and mr. wen who are always up to shenanigans

woozi

music teacher (2). mans life literally revolves around music and i can't imagine him doing anything else. department ace. conductor of both the symphony and concert orchestra, and rearranges all of the parts himself when the students find it a little too difficult. also do Not engage this man in a conversation about anything to do with music theory because he will rant for ages and any quick question turns into half of your lunch break being missed. he means well, though, and always gets ridiculous amount of thank-you presents at the end of the year. 

minghao

art teacher (1). dresses like one, too, and has been voted as ‘best dressed teacher’ for the past 3 years in a row. all the art students are kind of afraid of him because if you ask for feedback, there is a 50/50 chance that he'll rip you a new one whilst explaining what you did wrong. there's never any true cruelty to his words, though, cuz hes always actually giving genuine advice and he's always right in what he advises, so students either love him or hate him for his criticisms, though mostly it's the former. he's pretty, too, and his works are pretty, so that's a plus

mingyu

teaches business studies to the older students, purely cz i think he gives maths-adjacent vibes. he teaches a “special” subject that's not available to the younger kids and he's ridiculously handsome so he's kind of like a legendary figure in the school. even if he's a bit silly and adorable at times, he's also super good at holding intellectual debates with his students about current economic and political affairs. can be found bickering with mr. yoon bc the kindergarten teacher wants him to help with his taxes.

dokyeom

art teacher (2). smiles brighter than the sun at all hours of the day, and when the senior students are drowning in coursework and artist research deadlines, he's like the one and only guiding light that helps them get through it because of how endlessly optimistic he is. half the seniors take art solely because of him, actually. also a firm believer that all art is good art and there's no such thing as a “non-artist”. scolds minghao after work when he feels like the other teacher was being too harsh to the students

seungkwan

part of the senior leadership team. takes his position veryyy seriously, strides briskly around the school with a jingle of w set of keys he managed to procure from…somewhere. is always on top of uniform inspections which is always annoying for the kids, but he's also melodramatic and smiley so they love him anyway. the students are always try to recruit him for teacher quizzes and events bc he makes everything way more fun. 

vernon

classics teacher. this might seem odd but hear me out!!! dude loves ancient history and Will do deep dives on old artefacts and cultures that interest him, and i think that passion can definitely be transferred to him teaching kids about latin, ancient greek, old civilizations. known for sharing nothing about his personal life but also being able to talk for ages about something that happened over 1000 years ago. the students all find him super cool and also super endearing. 

chan

the guy who's hired externally from some sports club to act as the teacher to students during after school clubs. teaches martial arts, mainly, but he supervised an impromptu dance club one semester and the students loved it so much that they managed to bring the dance club onto the permanent schedule. everyone loves him. his sports club is 10000% sure that half the children who come to them were recruited through chan's lovely personality alone. 

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[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy on Tumblr part 6

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

The party trudged through the icy floor they'd found you on. 

At one point Laois pointed out where they'd dug you out of the ice. There were what looked like explosions, signs of battle, and a dead ice golem. Ahhh so they'd been fighting something else and your body had just happened to have been uncovered. That made sense. 

You spotted a chunk of fabric attached to...something, and shuddered. Looks like they hadn't collected everything. The experience of seeing your own flesh, disconnected and dead was surreal. Maybe you should take it along with you as a souvenir. Laois would probably be all too ready to help you pickle it. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped. Turning, you saw Chilchuck. 

"Hey, come on, you're starting to fall behind."

You hadn't even realized you'd stopped to stare at the remains of your death, but the party had indeed started to pull ahead. 

Chilchuck turned without another word and you fell in step beside him as you both caught back up to the party. 

The door to the next part of the dungeon opened into what looked like one long hallway, bending to the right off in the distance. You stepped through the threshold and immediately shucked off the blanket you'd had to borrow to use as a jacket. It felt wonderfully warm in here. 

As the party continued walking you noticed that they had been working together long enough to automatically sort themselves into an order that made sense for combat. Laois was up front with Senshi, the two most durable heavy hitters. Then Marcille, presumably for quick backup and/or healing. Then Chilchuck, who would need to be out of the way of any fighting, and would be best equipped to hear anything sneaking up from behind. Izutzumi drifted around wherever, up in front, back behind, racing ahead and then flopping down and digging a stone out of her shoe. You weren't sure what her role in the party was yet, but she seemed extremely agile and confident, so you'd guess she could hit a lot harder than her skinny frame and lack of obvious weaponry would suggest. They really were all very well coordinated and used to working with each other. 

You kept in line with Chilchuck. Both because of all the tactical stuff you'd just run through, and because it was nice to get to chat with another halffoot again. It'd been a year since you'd seen another halffoot when you went into the dungeon, and then another six months or so in the dungeon.

Up ahead Laois and Senshi appeared to be in excited conversation about cooking the remnants of the barometz. From the sounds of it Senshi was looking forward to taking advantage of the tender meat to make delicious stir fry, and Laois was theorizing about the best way to use the plant as bait for larger monsters.

You glanced at Chilchuck. "Laois and Senshi seem to be having fun."  

He chuckled. "Yeah they do that. They're both kinda freaks about monsters, Laois MUCH more so. That guy..." He shook his head ruefully. "I mean don't get me wrong, he's a good fighter, and the monster knowledge helps him fight and survive, and he's even picked up some healing magic so he's a good guy to have on your side, but he just does not understand social or cultural norms or how to deal with people. Plus he's just kinda a freak about it."

You nodded. Up ahead, Laois and Senshi dropped their voices a bit and started discussing meals that would be suitable for you to eat until you recovered from revival sickness. 

You grimaced. "Ah, have they not..."

"Realized we can hear them even if they think they're too far away? No they haven't, they still think of me as a tallman child after all, I doubt they clock that we can do stuff they can't." He snorted and said. "I bet they think of you as a toddler. After all they already think I'm a kid and you're so much shorter than me."

"Wha- hey!" You spluttered. "I'm not the one that's short, you're ridiculously tall! Being around the tall races has warped your idea of whats normal for sure."

Chilchuck grinned. "Regardless of what's normal for us they're still gonna ruffle your hair first chance they get. Mark my words." 

You'd interacted with enough of the other races to know he was probably right. You'd been able to work people underestimating you to your favor sometimes but that didn't mean it wasn't annoying. 

Up ahead there was a strangled yelp, like a cat being sat on. Marcille gasped. "Izutzumi!" And started sprinting ahead to where the corridor took a sharp right turn. 

Laois and Senshi followed suit. You and Chilchuck followed but quietly dropped back to keep some distance.

You came skidding around the corner to see a very mangled walking mushroom and Izutzumi standing over it looking cranky. 

"Izutzumi!" Marcille gasped out. "are you okay?? What happened??"

"I can't stand these things." Izutzumi growled. She turned to Senshi, who was already inspecting the mushroom. "You better not be thinking about putting that into my food! I will NOT be eating-"

You heard a faint series of "chunk" sounds, like a series of very large stones softly falling into place. You whipped your head around, looking for the source. Chilchuck also started glancing around, but no one else reacted. It must have been out of their hearing range. 

it didn't take long to find the source. A solid wall had risen up in the corridor you'd just come down, and doors and turns had opened up in the corridor you'd just entered. 

Chilchuck turned to Senshi and Izutzumi. "Stop squabbling about that! We've got bigger problems." 

Tag list, ask to tag:

@night-shadowblood-writes2

@thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry

@dunmeshimeshi

@leguink 

@gh0st-spider

@reh-llik

@sy1v30n

@qardasngan

@mshope16

@toshi-tori

[multishipper-baby]

Since drawing Derek as a bunny boy I've been thinking about that more so uh. Have another horny post rip.

[the16thtower]

Wyll Ravengard fucking undoes me because while a lot of fans and the BG3 writers do him dirty, there's so much going on with his character that just isn't explored or elaborated on that is so fascinating.

I have a parent who functions as a pillar of the community in my hometown, who is incredibly competent and admirable, and who judges me harshly for supposedly making choices that ruined my life. It's really difficult trying to wrap your head around all the different layers of that kind of relationship and Wyll never gets to really address it properly.

If we think about what happens after he gets kicked out of home:

What does he get to take with him? Does he even get a chance to pack any belongings? He looks like a normal human for the most part when we first met him, so what did Ulder tell people? We don't know about his mother's side but is there any family or family friends he could stay with? Did Ulder poison the well with everyone Wyll knew by being upfront about the pact or did he lie and make up another equally damning excuse for exile? God, just the idea that Ulder looked his son in the face (freshly injured) and immediately threw him out is devastating. Wyll is so certain about the prudence of his father's decision when we met him but either:

This is a perspective he's eventually made peace with

His conviction in his father never waned

which both suck! Either his idol, his father, screwed up massively or he has so little concern for himself that it never occurred to him that Ulder's justification was shit. Ulder is the Duke of Baldur's Gate, with all the resources that grants him, and he didn't even try to contact an expert on demons to try and get more info on his son's situation? What the fuck! There's the whole bit with the Trials of Balduran about appropriate punishment that Wyll agrees with that he doesn't even think to apply to his own situation. It can really fuck you up having your hero, who you admire for the good they do for others, decide you're not worthy of that same good.

Wyll tries so hard to be a good person and to lead by example but never seems to see himself as an acceptable recipient of the grace and kindness he shows others.

Does Mizora just immediately whisk him off to different parts of the Sword Coast to start acting the part of the Blade of Frontiers? He's seventeen, homeless, no support network, and fighting monsters - I'm going to lose my fucking mind. That's ridiculous. That kid was already dealing with his father's intense expectations (from what Wyll describes, Ulder was raising Wyll to follow in his footsteps, which is a steep ask). He then suddenly loses everything, on top of the stigma of demon association - Wyll's mental health must have tanked at some point. Depression, anxiety, and PTSD are definitely on the table (plus phantom pains from the prosthetic eye).

Just thinking of this teenager learning how to drink properly with no one looking out for him, trying to numb things a bit, and just becoming a sad wreck every time. Just... there's so much there with Wyll having to grow up very quickly in very lonely circumstances. We know he has some acquaintances, like the tieflings, but who actually knows what's going on with him? Is he still shouldering his burdens alone? Is MIzora around bothering him or does she flit in and out of his life? He's in exile for seven years.

And he's still a romantic and an idealist! Unflinchingly, genuinely, with his chest! He endures! He becomes a hero. It's beautiful. He survives and cultivates his best qualities in the face of awful circumstances. Wyll has this intense sense of morality and will (pardon the joke) that never permits him to sway from the right thing, even with everything stacked against him. And it routinely costs him! It's so, so hard to do the right thing and he still does it because he simply can't see another outcome worth living through.

It upsets me a little that Wyll ends up doubling down on what a good person his dad is when they reunite - as if Wyll hasn't demonstrated infinitely more empathy and compassion for other people, even when it actively impedes him. He's good because he chooses to be good and seeks to understand, not because he's able to follow the standards set by other men.

This is not a particularly organised discussion but fuck, I love Wyll Ravengard.

(UPDATE: I've just made some edits for clarification since I didn't express myself well. Also, this is a game that requires hundreds of hours of gameplay so be kind if I don't know everything.)

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere Master x Female Slave Reader

(Warning read your own risk and if you don't like it remember I warned you)

You where a slave of a very wealthy master who treated his slaves very well.

It was a peaceful life you did house work and looked after the pets and you were extremely lucky to have a kind master but the one downside to this peaceful life was Marcus your masters nephew who came to visit his uncle every summer.

Marcus treated the slaves terribly and unfortunately you had to serve him when ever he came, but as the years went by Marcus started to warm up to you.

Marcus: Hey slave come here, lets play house I'm the husband and you're the wife.

Y/n: Yes master.

Marcus: Just you wait when I get bigger I'm gonna make you my real wife.

You never understood why he would say such things to you but you would understand soon enough.

(You are 17 and Marcus is 19)

Summer finally came and Marcus along with it. Marcus had become very attractive over the years but you still saw him as your master's annoying nephew, but Marcus had seen you as much more than a slave.

Marcus: Hello y/n.

Y/n: Hello Mast-

Marcus: Please call me Marcus.

You gave him a confused look but complied.

As you worked you could feel Marcus's hawk like stare on you as if he was ready to pounce on you but you tried your best to ignore this but it only got worse from there, he would now touch you inappropriately and personal space was now nonexistent when he was around so you tried to avoid him but he always managed to find you.

Pretty soon it was clear to everyone that Marcus harassed you relentlessly exept your Master who was the one person who could stop this.

As you where walking down thd hall minding your own business when suddenly pushed you into a dark room and pinned you to the wall it took your eyes a minute to adjust and where surprised to see Marcus

Marcus: I cant hold back anymore I love you y/n I have ever since I was 6.

Y/n: What?

You didn't have time to react when he smashed his lips onto yours you tried to escape but his strong grip kept you in place, he only pulled apart when you were breathless. You took this opportunity to escape by stepping on his foot.

He yelled in pain and you ran straight to your master he told him about how Marcus had harassed you and he was not happy about it. He called Marcus in and they had a long conversation about it.

(Your masters name is Alfred)

Alfred: Marcus why Abuse my slave like this.

Marcus: Uncle you have now idea how much I love her and it took a great deal of strength to hold back for this long.

Alfred: Gasp a relationship between you two would be ridiculous and its clear she's not interested.

Marcus: She will learn to love me and don't care whether it's ridiculous or not.

Alfred: You will never lay a hand on her for as long as I live now go.

Marcus: You can't keep her away from me uncle!!!

Alfred: I said go.

After that Marcus didn't bother you for a while but good things dont last a week later your Master died of unknown causes and because he had no other family besides Marcus he got everything your master ownef including you.

From then on you were locked inside of the master bedroom where Marcus would "show you how much he loved you" if you know what I mean.

"My dear now you see I would even kill my own flesh and blood just to have you, now you belong to me."

Okay my lovely single pringles ik what ur thinking and ik i wrote this in grade 6 and i recently edited>

[thattimdrakeguy]

I HAVE BEEN READING ZDARSKY BATMAN, AND I HAVE DECLARED: I FREAKING LOVE IT!!

I'm reading the Batman Zdarsky run in reverse. That way if I see any bull I can back out at anytime: and to be honest--besides a few things. I really enjoy it

LIKE YO, THAT IS JUST STRAIGHT UP TIM DRAKE RIGHT THERE. It knows who he is as a character. his motives, it's great.

Screw the people complaining "oh why is tim still robin :((", THIS IS WHY HE IS STILL ROBIN. Because this is when he's at his BEST. When he gets to hit his character purpose, WHEN HE GETS TO BE HIM AT HIS MOST HIM. It's FANTASTIC.

Reading in reverse because I know I hated the first story, it was so contrived and ridiculous.

But this--this is some good shit.

Tim being an underdog fighter, having to use his wits to win the fight? MY DAWG, MY DUDE, MY GUYS, MY GALS, MY THEMS, MY THEYS, THIS IS SO TIMMY DRAKE. This is so damn Tim Drake, guys. Oh, my gosh, I am loving this so far.

Dick has his temper back? And trust me, he isn't normally like this. But he's hitting a limit AND IT'S SOMETHING NEW, NOT JUST A REFERENCE. HE'S ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING HE'D DO, 'CAUSE HE'S AT HIS LIMIT. That's wonderful, man. That is so wonderful.

Plus Tim is the heart of the Bat-Family again? This feels like someone actually went back to read these characters before writing it. I'm not saying everything is perfect of course, but these high marks are exceeding all my expectations. And I STOPPED reading comics because of how the beginning of this run destroyed any hope I had.

You guys have no idea how much I'm enjoying the few issues I've read. Besides the cussing (I remember after a bit they decided Tim was someone who used funny words instead of proper cusses), this feels like the Tim I know and love during the era I especially loved him.

Tim comparing himself to his predecessors? Tim not being a natural? A WRITER REMEMBERING THAT?? It's been so long since I've seen that! Most writers treat him like he was another prodigy when he wasn't. AND THIS GUY REMEMBERED THAT!

I shouldn't be so happy at just seeing Tim do Tim things, and serving his character purpose. BUT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE A WRITER KNEW WHAT TIM WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE.

Only complaints I have is that Jason feels like a typical Bat-Family member, and not the sketchy outsider that he is. Making him so close makes his character more bland in my opinion. And Steph is--also generic af unless she's wacky quirky...which is a characterization I hate for her, because she started off so damn interesting, but they made her a freaking trope instead, which is such a disservice to her, but she barely does anything so far, so whatever I guess. Doesn't mean much.

--

This is the first honest thing I've seen that I hated.

No

Not this

This isn't the Bat-Family

This is a sitcom world the fandom wants to be the Bat-Family and some comply with

They're not a sitcom. The conflicts, and uniqueness of the characters is what makes things feel alive and well.

This stuff is cheap fanservice for the fanon demographic that doesn't buy comics to begin with.

Fanon doesn't belong in canon.

--

I mean sure Tim could be drawn smaller, the gag of him looking 12 when he's nearly 18 doesn't work when he's bigger than Damian who is 15 (and contrary to some bullshit comics isn't meant to be small. that was a random thing added for writers who aren't clever to write better humor. it actually contradicts things that were already established).

Don't see the big deal though for most of this.

Can't wait to find it, though. Oh boy.

This whole obsession with Zur Batman, is way over done though. So--I wouldn't be shocked if that was the problem, because my golly does that plot point not seem to be stopping--and it was there from the start and part of the reason why I didn't read it 'til now.

Good Tim tho, at least. So heehee, yey for that--I think--I guess.

Oh, well.

It let me peak at a pseudo-version of an AU I made up years ago. So that's pretty freaking cool.

Always a plus.

And redoing Red Robin story beats but better? Normally I'd hate references to Red Robin, 'cause that changed the perception of so many characters for the worst, but ayy, a bit of redemption isn't bad.

Man, just seeing simple stuff like Tim and Bruce being good ol' classic Batman and Robin warms my heart. It's been so long since Batman and Robin has acted like a proper classic Batman and Robin. It's dynamic that's been sorely missed by many.

OH, MY GOSH, WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO STINK SO BAD. THIS STUFF IS GREAT.

Like, DUDE, this is such a Tim thing for him to do!!

And he's showing emotion?? He's crying like how he does?? Because he's not a typical Bat-Family member who just angsts his way through?? THEY'RE MAKING HIM STAND-OUT AGAIN BY MAKING HIM, HIM??

WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO SUCK SO BAD?? THIS IS GOOD SHIT.

Like this part is why I originally stopped reading, not because Bruce should think Tim is his soldier, and not his son, THE FREAKING OPPOSITE.

But because the original story has Bruce acting weird when unneeded, just to say this was so unneeded, and adding in all these stupid corny Bat-Family moments was so groan worthy.

This run started off with a story that was a total turn off for me.

To end up being a run that could've kept me enjoying DC, rather than running away from it from as far as I have.

Chip Zdarsky started off awful, but really, he ended up great.

And I've seen people complain about his run, and TRUST ME, there's stuff to complain about. But I have only ever seen the stuff worth complaining about, or stuff I WOULD complain about.

WHEN MOST OF THE RUN IS GOOD

At least when Tim is around.

Go figure.

Maybe I should've paid sole attention to how he wrote Tim and nothing else at the very least for that first story.

'Cause even in the first story, Tim was well-written--it's how cheap the rest of the story telling was in that first story that turned me off--and the weird knew about the movie plans that I am still fully judging harshly. (Love the new Superman film suit, though)

[onlymingyus]

things Seventeen do between someone's thighs

this is just for fun -- some of the ideas will be a bit silly and poking fun at the members but all of them will be smutty. thank you to @onlyseokmins for dealing with my nonsense.

cw; oral (mostly f receiving), fingering, sulking, bad jokes, and fuck boy attitudes.

also, no tag list because I am just not in the best headspace and don't feel like going through the effort, I apologize.

Seungcheol

This man isn't there to play...most of the time, but he can get a bit cocky. He'd be three fingers deep, his tongue working hard when he'd get a cramp in his hand. You wouldn't know what was happening when your orgasm was pulled away from you only to find a sulky Cheol between your thighs pouting at his hand.

"I went too hard..."

"My poor baby...want me to kiss it better?"

He'd just nod and hold up his wet fingers, his pout covering a smile as he got you to kiss his fingers dripping with your own arousal.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan would love being between your thighs but he's going to be the absolute worst when it comes to giving you what you want when you want it. All the baby talk against your thighs, his mouth running over your legs, stomach, even right over your folds but never giving in until you are almost crying. Then when you beg him for it he'd be faux exasperated that you were, sighing at you, running his tongue between your soaked folds between speaking.

"You could have just told me what you wanted."

You'd spend most of your time wanting to strangle the man with your thighs.

Joshua

Good luck getting him between your thighs in the first place. Slow and steady wins the race.

"There's no rush, love. We have all the time in the world."

It's not that he doesn't want to pleasure you. It's not that he doesn't want you. This man is just into delayed gratification. He wants to be a son-in-law one day and in your bed at the same time.

He'll make you scream his name on your wedding night and then good luck getting him from between your thighs.

Jun

So good at oral and such a freak in a good way. Loves to try new things but is also such a dork. Would be in the middle of making you orgasm and would stop only to look up at you with a goofy smile on his face only to say;

"Mmm, cum here often?"

Hoshi

There isn't much to say about what this man would do. You probably already know.

He is going to growl into your pussy.

I am so sorry.

Wonwoo

There are some nights you are shaking with pleasure from how good Wonwoo is making you feel with his tongue and fingers. Other nights you are wanting to smack the shit out of him with the book he laid on your stomach while his fingers scissor into you.

"Well, I really wanted to do both. You can't be mad at me for wanting both things, can you?"

Jihoon

The biggest issue with Jihoon is finding him and getting him to take a break. So you are having to come to terms with the fact that you aren't getting his tongue between your thighs in a bed anytime soon. You are either on his couch in his studio, laid over his desk, or on a piece of gym equipment.

At the end of the day he's so fucking good at it, can you really complain that much?

Dokyeom

Loves to talk and is so loud even while eating you out. Your fingers run through his hair, tugging trying to keep his mouth flush with your pussy but something comes to his mind and Dokyeom hums against your folds pulling back to take a breath.

"Oh, baby did I tell you that I saw a really cute dog today? I almost decided to steal it. I mean clearly, I didn't because that is wrong and I don't steal things, especially animals but I really wanted to because---"

A loud muffled groan would escape his lips as you sigh loudly his tongue diving back into your leaking entrance, his fingers digging into your thighs as he appreciates your taste. You love him but god, he loves to talk.

Mingyu

He's got game. He knows he's good at eating you out. He's made you cum so many times on his tongue it's ridiculous but when you glance down at him and he literally winks at you from between your thighs you can't help but close your thighs around his head making him whine and pout against your pussy.

Mingyu's hands grope at your thighs as you roll your eyes finally letting him move and get a full breath as he pouts at you fully.

"I had such a good groove. Why did you do that? Not that getting suffocated by your thighs isn't in my top ten ways to go..."

Another muffled whine leaves the man's mouth when you close your thighs followed by a muffled laugh. Mingyu nibbles at your thighs until you let him loose so he can pout at you again.

"I'm not dating a fuck boy. Don't wink at me from between my thighs while you are eating me out."

"Aww, but I'm cute..."

"God, you are really trying to be suffocated tonight."

"Top ten ways to go...I told you."

Minghao

You would have to remind the man you aren't an art project multiple times a night. Cum is not an art material Xu Minghao.

He'd spend so much time using his fingers to make you cum so he could drag his fingers along your thighs creating patterns only to lick them clean. Listening to you whine and whimper for him to fuck you, but clearly, he is busy...he is painting his canvas.

Seungkwan

Going down on you doesn't have to be a competition but it is for Seungkwan and he is in that competition with himself. How long did it take to make you cum? 3 minutes? Last time it was 5. He can do better.

Vernon

You didn't know your thighs needed nicknames but Vernon needed a reason to slide between Laverne and Shirley to make himself comfortable for the night.

Chan

He would need to be reminded that his face is in fact not a seat or a throne. Especially since he doesn't need to say it in front of friends or family.

He would forget where he was depending on his mood and what you were wearing. You'd see the look in his eye and the next thing you'd know Chan's hand would be on your hip.

"Fuck...I need you on my face."

Your face hot, and you'd look at your friends who would be trying to hide their laughter. By this time they should be used to it but it's still interesting to hear about your bedroom habits so openly.

"How bout we talk about it when we get home, Chan?"

Looking around, he'd only get shy for a moment before he'd look at you again and shake his head.

"Then let's go home. Your throne is getting cold and lonely."

[enviedear]

i've been going solo now ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ when you get a distress signal from your dad and his life-long goon you're quick to try and come to their rescue. only problem? so is ben solo.

pairing ⌙ smuggler!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ childhood crush/frenemies turned adults with horrible communication skills, reader is the daughter of lando (biologically or not you decide), ben is a jerk, reader is a brat, petty arguments, forced proximity trope, inner conflict all the time, han and lando are just two pals getting into serious issues that their kids have to fix don't mind them (they're just mentioned), most likely incorrect knowledge of the falcon & starship parts, smuggler!ben solo au because that's canon to me, ben calls reader kid (affectionate, kinda), typos probabaly

word count ⌙ 4.1k

— request | masterlist

i just think ben solo is very much solo by future coded and i wanted to write about smuggler!ben and his smug attitude. special thanks to @crucifiedfaerie for letting me gush over this idea constantly in our dms <3

you never had the stomach for killing— the thought of it or the act itself. the notion of ending someone's life has always been abhorrent to you, leaving a sour sensation in your mouth that lingers long after the deed is done. but right now, you sit, filled with a growing and seemingly unstoppable rage that practically demands blood.

"don't even think about jumping into hyperspace, solo!" your voice is loud but erratic.

the black-haired man piloting the ship gives you a side eye, "and waste hours getting there? sure thing, kid."

you grip the co-pilot seat as hard as possible as he sends the absolutely geriatric ship into lightspeed. the force of it sends your head back onto the headrest, and you screw your eyes shut until the motion of the ship stills.

you've been flying with ben solo on the millennium falcon for a day and a half now, and this isn't even the first time you've wanted to kill him.

no, you'd harbored a hatred for ben solo for as long as you could remember. when you were little your father frequently left you in the care of the organa-solo's. any trip too risky for you to follow him on had you spending time on chandrila han and leia— and ben.

he was a few years older than you and so insufferable - spoiled rotten and full of mischief. the two of you would inevitably end up in scuffles over something, whether it be who got to shower first or which holovid show to watch. you often wondered how your father, han, or leia had managed to handle both of you. a hardheaded pair of troublemakers that needed little excuse to start bickering with one another.

but beneath it all, there had been another layer to your complex relationship with ben solo. even though you feigned anger whenever near him, deep down there had been an admiration growing since those early days spent together. your naive heart fluttered when he would absentmindedly flash his ever-present smirk in your direction. but you'd never admit or act upon any such feelings.

naviagting your crush had been difficult at first. especially having lando calrissian as a parent. you were forced to spend weeks around the source of your teen angst because of your father.

what use is a dad that can sweet-talk a jablogian if he can't fix your unwanted crush on his best friend's son.

you've cursed at his image in your mind every time you look at your ridiculous companion. if not for him, you wouldn't be with ben right now— you'd have never had the displeasure of his company.

you got away from the young solo, and most everyone else, for a good five years, hopping from planet to planet, picking up any honest work. which usually meant boring work— factory jobs, service stuff, a few instances of babysitting.

your life without ben solo is predictable and a little boring.

but you'd rather be bored than deal with the recklessness that becomes your life every time you see the smuggler.

but here you sit beside him, forced to spend an unknown amount of days with him until the both of you find your idiotic fathers.

you had gotten a rouge comm-link message from your dad just days ago. he sounded fine, voice still leisurely and warm, but it was his words that were worrisome, "han's got us in a bit of trouble, little star. would you mind coming to help your old man out? we're somewhere in the trilon sector— i'd try batuu first!"

when you got the message, your mind had gone into autopilot. you had rushed to comm leia, which had been a fatal mistake, as she had ordered her son to pick you up and accompany you. so now you're here, stuck with ben solo and his frightening flying.

"you know, dad should have warned me i'd be flying with a coward." ben's lips are curved into a grin, as usual with his teasing.

you whip your head in his direction, eyes ablaze, "well my father should have warned me that you've gotten even more annoying, somehow."

ben narrows his eyes, a stupid smirk still plastered to his face, "whatever you say, kid."

you feel your blood go hot, why he decided to start calling you kid, you didn't know, but you do know you hate it.

ben's barely your senior, only twenty-three years of age in comparison to your twenty. besides he behaves like an out-of-hand teen away.

"stop calling me that." you groan.

ben chuckles, "aw, what's the matter, kid? tired of following orders already?"

you grit your teeth, the way he talks down to you will forever get under your skin, "i don't take orders from you, solo."

"sure you do. you're on my ship, remember?" ben retorts, his eyes focused on the coordinates displayed to his left.

you cross your arms over your chest, "we're supposed to be working together to find han and my father and get them out of trouble, not bickering like children."

ben rolls his eyes, "it's not my fault you're so uptight."

you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you can't afford to lose your temper and start a fight, not when you're relying on him to get you to your destination safely. so, you force a smile, "look, can we just be civil? we're both here because we care about our dads and want to help them."

ben's expression softens a little, "fine. but if you start nagging at me again, i can't promise i won't call you kid."

you roll your eyes, "deal. now, can you tell me more about what's going on? my dad was pretty vague in his message."

ben hums, "same with mine. all i know is that lando got mixed up in some kind of shady deal, and now he's in trouble with a gang of criminals called the ninth sun. my mom's been trying to negotiate with them, but they're not ones to bend the knee."

you groan, "of course not. what's the plan?"

he shakes a stray black strand of hair from his eye, "no plan, just find them and go from there."

"lovely, that's totally going to work," you bite your lip, "oh and, it was han who made the sketch deal, not my dad."

ben shrugs, "and who told you that?" he rests his elbow on the armrest and brings his hand to his chin, "lando?"

you clench your fists, "let's just focus on finding them. no need to dwell on the semantics."

ben glances at you and for a moment, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes. something other than his usual teasing, mischievous demeanor, but it's gone as quickly as it came and he turns back to the console.

the ship hums steadily beneath you, and the silence between you two stretches on, broken only by the occasional beep from the controls. you fidget in your seat, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar hush. you've never been around ben so long without saying anything, and you're about to speak up before he interrupts you.

"we'll have to make a pit stop, i need to refuel." his voice sounds tired.

you nod, "alright. any nearby planets we can stop at?"

ben checks the navicomputer, "yeah, there's one a couple of light years away. i've been there before, it's not too bad."

"okay solo, lead the way." you say, leaning back in your seat.

as he pilots the ship toward the destination, you can't help but study him from the corner of your eye. he's changed since the last time you saw him. the boy who used to pull your hair and steal your toys has grown into a man. he's lean and toned with longer hair, still as sable black as ever. it falls into his eyes, despite how much he wills it not to, giving him a slightly disheveled look that you can't help but find attractive.

you rue the thoughts plaguing your own mind.

the embarrassment you used to feel over your crush has come back ten-fold. the feeling shocks you. he's trying to act all suave and mature, but you know deep down that he's still the same old ben who annoyed the life out of you. you can feel the familiar tug in your heart every time he speaks, and you know he can't have changed much over the years. not when he's making you feel just like you're fourteen again.

but there is something different about him now. maybe it's the way he pilots the ship with ease– no longer the boy who'd cover his ears ar take off, or maybe it's just the way his muscles flex under his tight-fitting shirt. he's almost mesmerizing.

it's clear that he's been doing this for a long time, navigating the stars all alone with nothing but his shitty attitude and perfect hair. you find yourself marveling over him, sure and smooth, his hands deftly moving over the controls.

ever the realist, you try to shake off the feeling, but it's proving difficult. you feel a strange urge to preserve your current addiction.

as you watch him fly, you feel a fixation building within you. it's a sentiment you haven't felt in years, not felt since the last time you saw him.

you try to push the feeling down, knowing that it's not the time to have those kinds of thoughts. you're supposed to be focused on finding your fathers and not getting killed by some lethal syndicate, not lusting after your childhood nemesis.

you feel wrong stealing glances at him, trying to understand what's changed and why you're feeling this way. you're towing a dangerous, line. especially if those feelings are inspired by ben organa-solo.

finally, after what feels like hours, you arrive at the refueling station. as soon as ben lands the ship, you stretch your legs inside the falcon, looking out at the new scenery. the planet is bathed in the evening light, and the scene around you is wide awake. the station itself is a bustling hub of activity, with all kinds of alien species milling about.

ben leads the way to the fueling station, where he begins filling up the ship's tanks. you stand by the ship's entrance, people-watching. your eyes find ben's figure again, and you let them stall. when he looks your way, you advert your gaze and step out of the falcon, swiftly approaching him.

the evening air is cool as it hits your skin. this planet is a strange one, with vibrant purple plants and thick, white fog swirling around. but you don't pay too much attention to it, your eyes are locked on ben.

he's leaning against the ship, checking over the fuel meter with a frown on his face. you walk over to him and clear your throat, expecting to get his attention.

he looks up at you, eyes meeting your own. you feel your heart skip a beat, and you curse yourself for being soft for him.

"you know, you didn't have to follow me out here." he mumbles, hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes.

you hum, "i didn't have anything better to do."

he ignores you and looks back at the fuel gauge, his eyebrows furrow, "i found something for you to do." his voice is monotone, but you're all too familiar with the subtle cut of annoyance within.

"what does that mean?" you own voice comes out a bit too anxious.

ben groans before looking at you, "one of the damn tanks has a leak— i told chewie to fix that weeks ago." he follows up his words with a few curses before kicking the faulty gas tank.

you roll your eyes, "can't we just get another one? i'm sure if we go inside someone would know where we could get another one."

"the problem isn't finding one," he tsks at you, "the problem is that this tank has been leaking fuel into the beacon finder. without that, we're never finding our dear old dads."

your heart sinks. you had been so sure that you would find your dad quickly, but now it looks like that might not be the case. "so, what do you suggest we do?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'll have to fix the beacon," he sighs, "luckily i have the tools for it, but i need to find one more part, and with the sun setting soon…" he trails off, letting his silence complete the sentence for him.

you take in a deep breath at his implication. you can tell what he is suggesting without explicitly stating it.

you will be stuck on this planet with him tonight and forced to share the same cramped room. you thank god for separate cots, at least.

you try to ignore the warmth creeping up your ears, but you know that it's a losing battle. you haven't shared a room with ben solo since you were kids, endless unwilling sleepovers at each other's houses. but those instances were filled with innocent pranks and arguments, not the tension and longing glances you've found yourself giving him.

"alright," you say, trying to keep your voice even, "we'll just get the part and fix the beacon. the faster we fix this, the faster we can find our fathers and get back to our lives." you move towards the entrance of the fueling station, wanting to put space between you and ben.

"you mean so you can get back to your life." he calls out to you, and you look back at him only to be met with contempt in his brown eyes, "the one where you avoid me."

you give him a sharp eye roll before making your way toward a small gaggle of vendors, much more interested in finding this part. ben follows closely behind you, and you can feel the weight of his stare on the back of your head.

you're at a loss as to why ben solo would ever care that you've been avoiding him for the last five years. the ben you remember would've never batted an eye. when did that change?

you find a vendor selling the part that ben needs, and you both split the payment before heading back to the falcon. ben sets to work on the beacon, and you sit nearby, supposedly looking over the coordinates but mostly watching him work.

there's an abnormal sense of calm that fills you as you watch him. concentration is etched on his face, lips bitten bright red. you can't help but admire him, not for the sake of not trying.

you're brought back to reality when he starts cursing under his breath, "what's wrong?" you ask, moving closer to him.

"this damn thing won't budge," he grunts, trying to pry apart two pieces of the beacon.

you move to his side, peering down at the device. his breath is hot on your cheek, and you feel an urge to shiver. trying to focus on the task at hand you take a few breaths.

your eyes keep drifting to his lips, the way they move when he curses. you shake your head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. "let me help," you offer, reaching for one of the tools he's using.

he hands it to you, and you lean in closer, your sides pressed together as you work the tool. you can feel his heat exuding into you, a warmth that isn't just from the planet's humid air. you try to focus, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. every time he moves, you catch a whiff of his scent, musky and rich, and your mind starts to wander to places it shouldn't.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the piece pops free, and ben lets out a sigh of relief. he turns to you, a small smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the air between you is charged with something foreign.

you let your tone come out sardonic, "looks like i saved the day. you're welcome, solo."

ben tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "you're a brat, kid."

"i thought i told you to stop calling me that." you want to hit him.

"i said i had a condition," he pauses, arms coming to either side of you, palms pressing into the falcon's floor, effectively trapping you against him, "a condition you just broke. so you're back to kid, kid."

you feel your resolve slipping, "you're the worst. you always have been, and i can see now that will never change."

he has the audacity to let out an amused breath, "if you're going to say shit like that, at least mean it."

your brows furrow, "pardon me? as if i don't mean that."

his hands creep from the ground and to your hips, you gasp as he pulls you in closer. if he were anyone else, you'd expect him to kiss you next, but he's not anyone else. so instead, he cranes down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "i know you want me," he growls, his fingers digging into your clothed flesh. "don't act like you don't,"

you're completely caught off guard, and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and grabbing the beacon. you watch in silent horror as he makes for the falcon's exit, leaving you confused on the floor.

you sit there, rooted to the spot, your mind and body in turmoil. you know if you follow him you'd just be throwing yourself into a petty or embarrassing altercation.

what did he mean by that anyway? how could he possibly know?

taking a steadying breath, you turn away from your seat and make for the other side of the ship. you need to keep yourself busy until nighttime, and you know that there's some maintenance to do on one of the storage bays. when you get there, however, it's already been taken care of. your fists clench in frustration as you realize ben must have done it earlier.

you start searching around the ship for any other tasks that might help keep your mind off things and pass the time more quickly- checking cords, tidying up shelves or going through supplies lists so nothing gets low.

the hours seem to stretch on endlessly despite how much work you manage to do, and all too soon darkness begins to fill the sky outside of the cockpit windows. with a heavy sigh, you head back towards where you and ben had been working earlier. he's back now, tinkering away with the beacon as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you earlier— as if his words hadn't sent a tremble down your spine and confused the emotions tumbling through your mind.

you catch an expectant glance from him when he finally notices your presence. you're sure he's expecting you to say something to him. maybe he wants you to yell.

you don't say anything though, instead offering only a terse nod before checking the endless cords around you.

your fingers move quickly and expertly over the tangled cords, your mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. but you can feel his gaze on you, burning through the back of your skull like a branding iron. his presence is suffocating and you know that if you don't get a handle on your emotions soon, you'll combust.

eventually, you're so lost in thought that you almost miss the soft footfalls approaching you. you turn to see ben standing beside you, his eyes locked onto yours. the air between you is thick with strain, unspoken words, and feelings. there are so many things you want to say to him, but you don't know where to begin.

"so," his voice breaks through the silence like a blaster shot. "when are we going to talk about it?"

you hear the depth in his baritone voice and it's all you can do to keep your face neutral, your thoughts collected, "talk about what?" you ask, even though you know perfectly well what he's referring to.

"about me and you," he says, voice low but insistent, "or we can just keep ignoring it. the tension seems to be getting us pretty far."

your expression shifts as you take in his words, the longing that had been coiled in so tightly before now coming to the surface. you can feel yourself flustering under the intensity of his watch but you refuse to look away, instead lifting your chin higher and narrowing your eyes.

"there is no us, solo," you say firmly, though your voice is riddled with a hint of something else entirely, "there never has been, and never will be."

ben seems unfazed by your words, his eyes steady and intense. "you say that," he says, his voice softening. "but i know you better than anyone else. and i know there's some part of you that actually likes me. i bet it pisses you off, doesn't it?"

he's right— it does piss you off that your heart can't seem to let him go. no matter how annoying you find him, he's beautiful and confident. and he does know you better than anyone. he knows what buttons to press and how hard. with ben, there's always the thrill of how perceptive he is— that he can see through the walls of anger and indifference you try so hard to build up around yourself.

you can feel your will crumbling under his words, your heart throbbing in your chest, but still, you push back, "even if there is something there, solo," you say, your voice shaking slightly, "it doesn't change anything. we're two different people living two very different lives."

ben smirks, "you don't know anything about my life."

you let your eyes roll, "as if the life you lead is some kind of mystery," you take a deep breath, "i mean, what's to know? you fly alone, smuggle, and rack up credits. that's your life, solo."

he hums, right hand finding a home beside your head on the wall, "you know me so well, kid. you should write a book."

you feel inexplicably hot, "maybe i will. a long book of all the reasons you piss me off."

he doesn't respond, just looks down at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. he pushes himself from the wall and you, twisting and letting his back hit the durasteel wall. his face is turned to you, eyes downcast.

"you know," he says finally, breaking the silence, "i remember when we were kids, it was always you who used to be the one to instigate. you probably don't remember it that way, but i do, and i loved it. you never hesitated. you were fearless."

you look at him incredulously, wondering what this has to do with anything. but he continues, "you were the only girl that would play with me, and not just that, the only one that could beat me. but then one day you just stopped. you ignored me completely."

you stiffen, unwilling to admit even through body language that he might be right. a pre-teen you found avoiding your ben sized crush the most viable option. you just never thought he'd care.

he continues, eyes unwavering from yours, "you used to look at me like i was the only person that mattered. and then, you just stopped. it's was like… like you had something to hide."

it's like he can read your mind because he reaches out and grasps your wrist in his hand. his touch is nice against your skin, sending a comfortable feel through your veins.

"i miss you, the girl who wasn't afraid of liking me," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "and i want you to admit that you miss me too."

you struggle to find words, to make sense of everything inside of you, but before you can speak, his lips are on yours. his kiss is hot and demanding, and instinctively lean into him, body melting against his in perfect harmony. his hands slide around your waist and hold you close as the kiss deepens, and you can feel all of the frustrations of the past slipping away. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with emotion and a hint of a smile graces his lips.

he looks down at you for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "you want me to do that again?" he steps closer to you and cups your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with amusement. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body and if it weren't for his strong arms around you, you would have melted into a puddle.

you nod slowly in agreement, too lost in the moment to say anything else. he leans down and brushes his lips against your cheek before pulling away completely, "then be honest. right here, right now. you like me."

you screw your eyes shut, basking in the shame of being found out, "i like you, solo. i like you a lot, but if you don't get off your pedestal and kiss me again i'll withdraw the opportunity."

he gazes down at you with an expression that's tender yet mischievous all at once. "i like you too," he whispers before chuckling lightly, you open your eyes to see.

his dimples are on full display, and for a second, he's the spirit of the little brat you fell in love with all those years ago. "c'mere, kid." his voice is soft as he pulls you back into him, lips meeting yours.

[m00nsbaby]

The invisible barrier.

(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)

Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)

January.

"¡Hola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.

Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?

Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.

"Perdón, ¿Podrías decirme qué dice aquí?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.

"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)

The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.

"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.

Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.

"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.

You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.

He just stood still, listening.

"¿Colorante rojo número 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.

Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.

"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.

"Soy alérgico al número 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezón en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")

Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.

He was cute.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.

"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."

Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.

You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.

Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.

Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .

"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.

You almost had a heart attack.

"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.

"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.

He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.

"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.

You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.

"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.

"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.

"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.

"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.

You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.

He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.

Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.

February.

Your first date was a disaster.

You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.

Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.

That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.

When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.

"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.

He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.

He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.

"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)

March.

Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.

Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'

Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.

His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.

You enjoyed his company.

April.

Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.

He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.

"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"

"¿Ahora?" (Now?) he asked.

"Right now."

"¿Cuál palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.

"Boyfriend."

"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.

You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.

"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)

May.

"Jake?"

The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.

Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.

"No sé qué me pasó. Mi teoría es que golpee algo mientras dormía.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.

"Are you still having those strange dreams?"

"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "Sí, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)

You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.

"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.

June.

"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.

Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.

That was your Friday night.

"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.

When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.

"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.

"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me está poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.

"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "¿Un par de besos te tienen así, corazón?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "Imagínate como será cuando esté dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ¿No?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.

"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rápido si sigues apretándome así.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "¿Vas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "Déjame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.

July.

The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.

Jake was someone else.

His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.

There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.

He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.

But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.

You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.

Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.

August.

Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.

The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.

"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."

There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.

The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.

"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.

"Me quedé dormido anoche, perdón.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?

"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.

"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)

Damn the day you started to understand his words.

"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.

It was too much for him. Everything was too much.

"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.

"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.

With fear.

Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.

In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.

He was losing himself as he had suspected.

"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)

"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.

You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.

September.

The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.

It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.

He simply disappeared.

The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.

✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)

✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)

It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.

You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.

You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.

Make it work.

October.

"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.

A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.

"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.

"Estaba por aquí.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensé en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)

"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."

Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.

That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)

November.

Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.

Laughing, singing, existing.

As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.

You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.

"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.

He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.

"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.

"Never! Let me go!"

The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.

"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."

The seconds of silence churned his stomach.

"What?"

"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"

It almost seemed like he was begging you.

You reassured his fears with a kiss.

December.

"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.

Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.

"No puedo creer que no me estés ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, así evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)

"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.

"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"You didn't say that when..."

"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)

"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.

"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.

"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"

Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.

"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.

Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies

[engie-ivy]

@wolfstarmicrofic 5th: Cupid💘

817 words

When Remus let James Potter set him up on a date with his best friend, Lily had hoped that at least he would find out dating really isn't that terrible, and finally start allowing Lily to set him up on dates as well.

Not Sorry

Lily stumbles a little as she walks over to Remus, because damn those bloody heels.

Remus turns towards her from where he's standing at the bar and arches an eyebrow. “Lils, you might want to go easy on the wine.”

Which is ridiculous. Lily has only had three glasses. And some champagne before that. And maybe a cocktail at some point.

“Don't change the topic!” Lily says, even though they hadn't actually been talking yet. She jabs her finger at Remus’ chest. “I'm still mad at you!”

“Oh, come on, Lils," Remus chuckles. “You're going to have to get over it at some point.”

“We had a deal, Lupin!”

“I know, Lily, but-”

“A deal! All I ever wanted was to get you this fun and exciting dating life,” Lily sighs wistfully. “So you could have handsome men take you out and boost your ego like you deserve, and we could share dating stories and laugh about weird guys together. But did you allow me to set you up on a date ever?”

“I did not,” Remus admits.

“You did not!” Lily exclaims, as if Remus didn't already just admit to that. “It was all ‘No, Lily, I'm just the sort of person who's better off by himself’, ‘No, Lily, I'm not looking for anything’, ‘No, Lily, I'm too independent and need my alone time’, and yadda yadda.” She rolls her eyes. “But then what happened? You allowed your new coworker to set you up on a date with his best friend!”

“It's just very hard to say no to James,” Remus defends himself.

Lily scoffs. Although, while she has only met James Potter a few times, if she's honest she can kind of imagine. When Potter is looking at you with those puppy eyes of his, giving you that hopeful smile, all bright and eager and- Lily shakes her head. She's getting off track. “But we came to a very clear agreement,” she continues, placing her hands on her hips. “If you would learn that going on a date is actually not such a dreadful experience as you seemed to think, you would finally start letting me set you up on dates as well. And was the date dreadful?”

“No, it wasn't,” Remus sighs.

“And did you let me set you up on any dates afterwards, as you promised?”

“No, I didn't,” Remus sighs.

“No, you didn't!” Lily mimics. “Not one date, nothing!” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “And I had so many ideas… That cute redhead from the coffeeshop, that fit bloke from my yoga class, the hot guy from accounting… It would've been so fun, so exciting, maybe we even could've gone on double dates at some point!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sirius appears at Remus’ side, sliding an arm around his waist. “But as much as I enjoy bonding with your family– our family–,” he corrects with a smile. “Your Aunt Joy has been telling me about her bad knee for half an hour now. The sooner you get that woman some wine, the better.”

“And you!” Lily says, turning her attention to Sirius. “You're to blame as well, you know!”

Sirius blinks at her. “Alright, Evans?”

Lily jabs her finger at Sirius’ chest now. “You just had to snatch him off the market right away, didn't you?”

Sirius blinks again, and then barks a laugh. “Well, can you blame me, Lils? I couldn't risk letting this one get away, now could I?” He presses a kiss to Remus’ cheek. “I had to lock it down as soon as possible.”

Lily purses her lips, because, well, no, maybe she actually can't blame him for that.

“I'll be right there, babe,” Remus says, squeezing Sirius’ hand.

Sirius nods and walks off to deal with Remus’ aunt.

Remus looks at Lily and shrugs. “What can I say, Lils? James just struck gold the first time. If you want me to apologize, I'm going to have to disappoint you.” He looks over at the other side of the room while touching the brand new golden ring around his finger, to where Sirius is chatting to his aunts. Sirius catches his gaze, and the forced smile on his face turns into a soft, genuine one. Remus smiles as well. “I'm really not sorry at all.”

Lily watches Remus and Sirius make their way through the room to chat with all their guests.

They do look awfully good together, she thinks sourly.

Then she turns on her heels, having decided to go look for James Potter and give him a piece of her mind. Stupid Potter, thinking he can play Cupid and set their best friends up for their happy-ever-after! Like, who does he think he is? Making Remus so bloody happy, making her bloody cry with that stupid best man speech of his, and looking so bloody handsome in his stupid suit!

Yes, she'll tell him alright.

[wosemi-sama]

HEY CHAT. the silly (it was mammon. we all knew it was going to be mammon) won the poll so i am now legally obligated to write smth for our first man. hope u guys like it 🫶 also. i dont. have. yellow on mobile. so we have to. deal with it. and. use orange instead. #sad

mammon relationship hcs

OH THIS FUCKING GUY.

Loser.

Will do stupid shit to impress you.

"Hey, watch me carry this comically large box!"

"Mammon, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Don't be ridiculous! Look!" *dies*

You mention it's kind of cold? He will immediately take off his jacket and have you wear it. His brothers will not hear the end of it.

"Hey, guys! Guess who wore my jacket? That's right, it was-"

"Mammon, nobody cares."

After a lecture from Lucifer, Mammon will look for you in search of comfort (and cuddles)

He'll bury his face in your shoulder and complain while you rub circles on his back

He loves affection, but he gets embarrassed easily

Super clingy once he's comfortable in your relationship, but don't be fooled, he gets flustered all the time.

He's amazing at giving gifts. He knows exactly what you want without fail. Mammon just knows you best.

He's also surprisingly good at knowing where you are??? Like, Lucifer will ask him where you are and he'll respond with "I dunno, try the cat cafè." And you're there??? You didn't even tell him where you were going, he just guessed.

So annoying about you. He won't shut up about you, but he can't help himself!! He just loves you so much and everything about you is so perfect that the list would be over 30 pages long! Don't tell him I said that-

He may not be the Avatar of Envy, but he tends to get jealous easy.

You're hanging out with his brothers a little too much for his liking? That's it, you're legally obligated to spend the day with him now.

Physically cannot be more than 30 feet away from you or else he will implode.

So, so many movie marathons. At least once a week.

He tends to fall asleep easily though, so they usually never get finished.

Wakes you up in the middle of the night for the dumbest reasons and pokes you until he's sure you're awake.

"Hey. Hey hey hey hey hey hey-"

"...What..?"

"Ya hungry?"

He would never admit this, but he likes making you laugh. He just finds the way you scrunch up your face so adorable. And your laugh too. He loves your laugh. He could never get tired of it, even if he wanted to.

It is genuinely so difficult to get this guy to say "I love you" because he recharges his courage to actually say it every 6 weeks because he thinks it's SO embarrassing.

Just because he doesn't say it a lot doesn't mean he doesn't. Mammon just finds it difficult to say. So remember that he loves you, will you?

[hetaherr]

spending habits

:wriothesley modern au!

:fluff, crack, mentions of swearing, gender neutral

i thought this would be pretty funny, a little ooc and definetely self indulgent because i love recieving stupid gifts- hell i love buying myself stupid things from aliexpress LOL. and for those with gift giving as your love language, NO SHAME!! don't feel bad about it, ur deserving of all your cute little presents and trinkets, anyway ily <3 reblog to win ur 5050s

"holy shit"

wriothesley raises an eyebrow as he flips through a few documents in bed, he looks your way with anticipation. he watches you blink at your phone, proceeding to look back up at him, then back to your phone in utter disbelief, eyes wide and mouth agape, he can't help but chuckle.

"i just got some email confirmation, of- hear this, three hundred, three hundred fucking dollars."

you say, shoving the phone in wriothesley's face. he squints at how your phone is set at a level of brightness that put even the gates of heaven to shame. he stays quiet as he barely skims through the email before shrugging.

"yea i know, i paid for it."

as he says so nonchalantly, he sees your face distort into that of pure horror. what does he mean by, he paid for it?

"you really don't remember?"

he laughs. the sound of his voice usually makes you feel various emotions, all dancing around the themes of love and passion, but now you would have to add straight terror to the list as your heart sinks to the depths of your stomach. his big hands let go of your phone, and make its way to cup our cheeks.

"when i picked you up last night, you were pissed drunk-"

he chuckles as he interupts himself. his thumbs caressing your plump and soft cheeks. you await him to continue, dreading to hear what ridiculous scheme you managed to come up with while drunk.

"and though i'm not sure where you got this idea from, you kept insisting that i wasn't spending enough money on myself-"

"no...."

you interupt, gasping as you realise where the conversation was headed. wriothesley smiles at your reaction. clearly he doesn't feel like the situation is that big of a deal and it leaves you baffled at the fact he seems to be taking it so lightly.

"i simply said i'd rather spend my money on you and i really don't think i've seen you look so excited in my life. we spent the evening browsing your wishlist, you certainly had some odd things saved might i add."

he laughs again so unphased, while you were absolutely destroyed and horrified by your actions you were visably shrinking under the covers.

you couldn't bare to look at him, face red and the feeling of guilt was so heavy, not to mention the embarrassment you felt. you were really going through it... once again his warm hands make its way under the sheets and snaked around your waist. there's a soft hum of your name and as relieved as you are that he doesn't seem angry at the three hundred over dollars missing from his bank account, you simple can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes as he joins you under the blanket.

"my my, aren't you cute."

he says in that awfully familiar tone, the one he uses when he knows he has an advantage over you. he looks at your flustered face, the same face that manages to tug at his heartstrings everytime he sees it. you mutter countless apologies and promises that you'll definetely pay him back, as you bury your head into your hands.

"hm? i'd much rather you didn't sweetie, no matter how much money you decided to milk out of me it'll never reach the extent of which, i love you."

bonus: you decide not to look through the list of items that drunk you had insisted on getting and throughout the next few weeks, you and wriothesley would find packages addressed to you on the doorstep. it feels sorta like christmas and you open it together, some items are so ridiculously niche and some even straight up useless. you both have no idea what to do with it but it does do a good job at making the both of you laugh. wriothesley's favourite is when a piece of clothing comes, obviously he asks you to model it for him, spinning you around and even going as far as whistling at you when it's something excessively skimpy.

[keesdarlin]

☆// merry and bright (MDNI, 18+)

info! 141 + könig + keegan / fluff, established relationship + gender neutral reader

cw! no CWs

prompt! their favorite christmas/holiday activities

notes! i'm not big on christmas usually, but this seemed cute so i thought i would do a little bit of writing for it. hope you enjoy :]

KÖNIG

könig's favorite holiday activity is going to see the lights. he'll take driving through the neighborhood in a car if he has to, but he really likes making a whole night out of it. to him, going to see the lights is an entire event. you'll dress up all warm and stop on the way out to grab some hot chocolate or tea or whatever it is you fancy along with some warm snacks. then you'll find a nice neighborhood, probably packed with all the other people who had the same idea as you, and just walk through it. it's a nice way to just get out for a little bit, to bask in the fresh air and that winter chill. a nice excuse for him to spoil you a little bit with some treats and sugar. he keeps a hand on you so that you don't get swept away in the crowd and is ridiculously attentive to you. asks if you want him to go get you more hot cocoa when your cup empties. pulls you closer into his side when you complain about how cold it is. looks at all the displays that you point out and smiles for every picture. it's all very sweet, really. he just loves seeing the way your eyes shine while you're looking at all of the pretty lights.

GAZ

kyle loves taking you present shopping. he mostly likes it because you like it. window shopping, putting so much care and attention into choosing gifts for someone else, trying to figure out what you want for yourself. it's even more fun when you're doing all of the shopping in one place, preferably the mall. it's convenient and lively and full of energy. the lines are kind of a pain, but it's a little bit less annoying when he has you to talk to. he buys you whatever snacks you want while you're shopping. stopping for lunch is the best because that's prime time for people watching. you guys will just sit in the food court while listening to other people's conversations and commenting on them. makes sure that you're as comfortable as possible before you leave the house -- good shoes, comfortable clothes, hair tie on hand just in case you need it. he brings along band-aids in case you end up getting a blister. he also takes note of things that you like. he can't resist getting you a little gift or two to slip you when you're at home later.

SOAP

soap really likes the parties. really he just likes any excuse to see you all dressed up, especially for a party. add in some alcohol and he's having a great time. in his defense, what's not to like about a good party? music, free food, and some scheduled time to hang out with all of your friends, maybe catch up with some people that you haven't seen in a little while. he likes how clingy you get at parties too, all in the spirit of cuffing season and everything. you guys are basically joined at the hip, you either hanging on his arm or his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders or waist, keeping you pulled to his side. he likes the whole deal -- the themes, dressing up, having an excuse to dote on you a little extra, the coziness. he's super down to get lost in the moment of course, but he's always paying attention to you as well. all making sure your cup is full, making sure you have a plate of snacks if you're hungry or a sweater if you're cold, making sure you have someone to dance with if you feel like it. the whole event just gets him going.

GHOST

ghost really enjoys the lazy days that the holidays allow for. he just likes having the time to just exist with you. of course he loves planning dates when your busy schedules allow the both of you to see one another, but that can get a little bit high-pressure from time to time. if you're lucky enough that he's home for the holidays when you also happen to have work off, he really prefers to stay in with you. his favorite part is probably getting to sleep in late with you pulled to his chest. there's no risk of him waking up to an empty bed because you had to run off to work or go buy milk before an appointment or whatever else life throws at you. even if he wakes up before you, he can just hold you to his chest and find comfort in the sound of you breathing (and you can do that same. just listen to the beating of his heart as he sleeps beside you). when you are both finally awake, the morning is still slow to start. you stay in bed for another hour or three and take your time convincing each other to get up and start the day. it's usually simon that caves first, getting up and dragging you out of bed along with him. you both trudge to the kitchen, enjoying the coziness of your little apartment as you make tea and scrape together a lazy breakfast. from there you spend the day in your pajamas, cuddling on the couch and watching movies under a few blankets, dozing off and on, occasionally grazing on snacks.

PRICE

price usually enjoys being in the kitchen with you around the holidays. this usually consists of him being your little helper or leaning against the doorframe and rambling while you cook whatever you've set yourself to. he'll stand with you and make jokes or talk about random stuff while you roll out sheets of cookie dough or work on cooking something for dinner. to keep him occupied you'll assign him ingredients to dig through the cabinets for, really just so that you don't have to do it yourself. he'll probably find it with maximum efficiency too just so that you're not left waiting on him. he hands it to you, waits for you to measure it out, and then puts it back so that you're not losing any counter space either. and he's always bugging you for a taste of whatever you're making whether it's cookie dough or soup or whatever, but especially if it's some kind of sweet treat. if you're making cookies, you can guarantee that he'll sneak one off the cooling rack when you're not looking. would absolutely insist on making the most absurd gingerbread house with you (and would probably end up either painting you with frosting or eating it all).

KEEGAN

i'd like to think that keegan's favorite part of christmas is the snow. anything to do with the snow, really. during the first snow of the season, he drags you out to see it. it doesn't matter if you're working or sleeping or what, but cue keegan shaking you as gently as his stifled excitement can muster to come out and see it. if he's not with you when it finally start snowing, he'll call you and leave a short but sweet message about it. he loves playing in it; it's one of the only times he lets his guard down. loves snow angels, building igloos and snow men, having snowball fights, sledding. the whole nine yards. he just has a blast with it. he also teaches you how to make snow creams when you guys have the time for it (firm believer here that keegan would like his snow creams with chocolate chips). sometimes he'll go outside by himself and just sit in the snow for a little bit or stick his hand in it and feel the way it melts on his palms. it helps ground him, helps clear his head. no matter the case, he's more than happy to be able to share it with you.

[blue-rose-soul]

"Great Alastor Altruist* died for his friends!"

This scene has been spinning in my brain since Thursday. Like a lot of other people, my first thought was that this was an indication that Alastor had grown to care for Charlie and her friends at the hotel. And it's not because of the words he says. Even if you're watching without subtitles and don't see the quotations around that phrase, it's pretty obvious that he's laughing at the very thought.

"Me? Alastor? Dying for them?"

"Ridiculous."

"Absurd!"

"Utterly laughable!"

No, what makes me think that there might be a kernel of truth there isn't the words by themselves. It's the look on his face as he says them.

This is the part where Alastor's angry snarl breaks and he begins to look genuinely afraid. He clutches his chest. He digs his fingers into his scalp, drags his hand down the side of his face. And that's a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly dying! It's very human! But I think it's very telling that this expression doesn't settle on his face until he's talking about dying for someone else. Before this he looked more angry than anything, and he lapses back into anger up until he begins talking about trying to find a way out of his deal.

Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why anyone would think otherwise. The thing about Alastor is that, despite how blatant it is, his mask works. Like I stated earlier, I find myself searching every word, expression, and gesture from Alastor for double meaning. Ostensibly, there's no one here for Alastor to lie to**. No one he has to put up an act for. But his smile, which he's already fully admitted is faker than fake, remains firmly in place. I wonder if putting up an act is so second nature to him at this point he can't help but do it even when he's alone. Maybe he tries to fool himself as much as other people.

I believe that he has come to care, but I can't fully believe it. I won't be surprised to be wrong. But there are some scenes that just don't make sense to me if he really doesn't care at all.

His chat with Niffty the night before the extermination, for example. Niffty isn't really someone he needs to trick. He has power over her, whether it's because he owns her soul or because of her blind devotion to him. It's telling that while everyone else is hanging out together, sharing drinks at the bar, Alastor keeps his distance and positions himself above them. At this point, Alastor seems to care about them the way we, the audience, care about them; as entertainment. He's enjoying watching their story unfold up close, but that's all there is to it. He admits to Niffty that one could get accustomed to being with them. Not him though! He's above all that.

Then the battle happens. At first, Alastor's role in the battle didn't require him to assume too much risk. He was on crowd control, limiting the number of exorcists the rest of the hazbins have to deal with at once. And he slayed a not insubstantial number of angels in the process***. But then Adam broke through Alastor's shield and singled him out. It would have been reasonable for Alastor to put some distance between himself and the Lead Exorcist. Charlie did say it was his job to deal with Adam, but as I've already discussed, Alastor really had no hope of winning that fight alone. Maybe if he'd escaped right then and there, or fought Adam alongside Charlie things would have turned out differently. Granted, I don't think his pride would have allowed him to take either of those options.

Regardless, the end result is that Alastor did come very close to dying for a cause that wasn't his. Considering what Adam did to the hotel, Alastor's pretty damn lucky he's not in two pieces here.

Now, I don't think this means Alastor is immediately going to turn around and integrate int o the hazbin family. Immediately after this line where he mocks the idea of dying for Charlie's cause, he gets angry again, leans further into the Radio Demon persona and starts contemplating ways to escape his contract. I think, that like someone recoiling after accidentally touching a hot stove, Alastor's going to pull further away from them. One thing I am certain about is how Alastor feels about his leash; he hates it. He wants to be rid of it. He doesn't know how to do that yet, but he's working out a plan and having Charlie in his corner is part of that plan. Giving a genuine shit about her or the other hazbins is not part of that plan. It's another leash, not as literal as the one connecting him to his patron but just as binding.

Alastor realizing he might actually care about these people may just make him more dangerous to them than if he just didn't care at all.

-

(*The word 'altruist' here being used as a title, not a name. Like something you'd see in a newspaper headline, or on a headstone.)

(**There do seem to be some odd eye motifs in the environment, but at no point does Alastor give any indication he is aware of them or acknowledge their presence in anyway. And I highly doubt he would have said certain things if he believed his patron was actively watching him.)

(***Taking this opportunity to go off topic a bit to call the Vees out on their hypocrisy. For all their bluster about 'taking the fight to Heaven' and how 'pussy' the older Overlords supposedly are, I didn't see any of them on the battlefield. Alastor was. He fought as long and hard as he could. There was nothing cowardly about him living to fight another day.)

[teojira]

On my hands and knees for some general headcannons for Koba, a fragile friendship forged from a hunt gone wrong or just mildly getting along like pissy siblings 😭. Your writings are so memorizing, and it's like eating a 5-star meal. All the kudos and love for you as my favorite pota writer

[General Koba drabble/ headcanons!] [Platonic]

Summary: Koba deals with you because he absolutely has to, not because he actually cares for you.

Warnings: Platonic Koba and Reader, Koba being a dick but that's canon.

A/N: THANK YOU SO SUCH KIND WORDS I TWIRLED MY HAIR??? this literally means so much to me, thank you :( I tried my best to incorporate both ideas you had! I hope this is good, Koba is kinda hard to write for and I am nervous lmfao.

Ohhh my fucking god, will he never let you rest.

Koba doesn't love humans, it is so very very very apparent in everything he does that he DOESN'T like you, he would let you drop dead in front of him without caring.

Imagine his shock and gal when he starts to actually form some kind of attachment to you. How bitter it makes him to think he can even have a somewhat positive thought about you.

It makes him want to claw his fur out, maybe even go blind in his other eye to get some damn sense into him. How dare you, and if he cared to use human curse words, he'd call you every name in the book.

He begrudgingly will help you learn how to hunt, and I mean begrudgingly. Caesar has to damn near hold the bonobo at gun point to get him to stop being so fucking hostile and just give you a chance.

He watches you from a tree as you hunt pitifully, the spear much too large for you to wield like apes do. It's pathetic really, watching you stumble like a baby elk with no sense of balance. You can't spear a single fish.

"Human...stupid." The Bonobo sneers, rolling his eyes after you continuously miss, he can see your face burn with what he's been told is embarrassment. Serves you right.

Koba has no actual plans on helping you, until he starts to see you throw your spear onto the forest floor with a thump, curling into yourself, hiding your face in your knees.

Great, now you're crying and he's gonna have to be the one to deal with it. Just, Great. Just what he wanted to deal with.

Koba is already mentally trying to prepare himself to get down and attempt to soothe those pitiful cries coming from you when he hears footsteps rapidly approaching.

You, being so caught up in your own world, don't realise a mountain lion is stalking you, but Koba does.

It's scary how fast he can move at his age and with his disabilities, he's down the tree and at your side before you even realize.

The growl he lets out startles you enough to break out of whatever trance you find yourself in, watching Koba plunge his own spear at the mountain lion, the large cat yowling when it's hit You can't help but let out a yelp of your own.

Koba puts more force, piercing the jagged rock deeper into its neck, breathing harshly from the extension.

The cat falls silent finally, Koba turning to you, staring down at you with a glower.

"....stupid."

Koba chooses to ignore how you look back at him with appreciation, he didnt do it for you, he did it for Caesar. Doesn't matter if it gives him a pleasant feeling deep in his core.

This starts you both off with a rocky 'friendship' between you and the old Bonobo.

He doesn't like that you seem to keep following him around the colony and very vocally tries to scare you off. Hell, he tries to pawn you off to Stone and Grey, but it's no use.

For some reason, you've decided that you'd make his existence even harder and make it a point to bug him.

He hates it. He hates you even more. But it's akin to having a dog, and he lets you know so.

"Like dog. Follow Koba." "That's rude." "...good."

He's such an asshole it's ridiculous. What do you see in him?

Koba eventually gets used to his new normal, antagonizing you just as much as you do him.

He's learned how to get away with fucking with you so that he doesn't get in trouble with Caesar or the others.

Fucker has pushed you into the lake more times than you can count and it makes him huff out laughter. It's all under the guise of being playful.

Jokes on him because you constantly will try and touch him, saying he has fleas or what not, only for him to growl at you when you pull back and stick up a middle finger towards his face. Peak sibling behavior tbh

Caesar sees you as a good thing for Koba, exposure to a human that isn't out to harm.

No matter what Koba claims, you're harmless. Everyone knows this.

They fight about it, Koba adamantly saying he was no part in caring for you, but when Caesar raises an eyebrow ridge, signing quickly that this isn't a discussion, Koba fumes.

Would rather drop dead than admit he misses your presence. If you decide to spend more time with Maurice or Rocket, he gets so pissy.

Koba will drag you away if you push him hard enough, grabbing you by your waist and dragging you. He doesn't care if you don't want him man handling you, oh well.

I know it in my heart that he yanks your hair to piss you off. He does it to get your attention. It's never for anything of importance, he just likes that it pisses you off.

"You can literally just chatter, and I'll hear it!"

The asshole just shrugs with one shoulder.

He's insufferable, and I hate him.

[pedgito]

Currently thirsting over the idea of Eddie in those tiny gym shorts that Steve and Billy wore for basketball practice. THIGHS. Slutty little waist. I can't.

this is very tame but it made me laugh because i can so clearly imagine eddie like this.

Eddie taking them from Steve as a joke, snorting at the sight of them and holding them up like a scandalizing article of clothing between two fingers. Steve rolls his eyes because it’s really not that big of a deal but Eddie’s never even thought of the idea of wearing such a thing.

He’s not nearly as toned or tan—sure, he was in decent shape, lean and fit where it counted, but his skin was pasty white and not nearly as enticing as Steve’s. At least, that’s how he looked at it.

Steve insists that he finally takes a pair, tired of having to listen to him rip into him about how short they are, how ridiculous the team looks wearing them—but really, he just doesn’t understand. So, when walks into the trailer that night it’s almost a given that you force him to try them on, even if only for a few minutes.

He strips his jeans off, but you interrupt with a quick head shake. “All of it.” You dare with a smile that has Eddie blushing full body, “Gotta get the full affect, right?”

And he was all wrong, because the moment he slips them on, he’s hooked. You can’t help but stifle the giggle into your hand, eyes lighting up at the sight. The green contrasting against his alabaster skin perfectly, body littered in ink from his chest to his thighs and it’s mouthwatering, the subtle bump of his hipbones peeking out from above the waistband.

He’s always had nice thighs, firm and perfect for, well, everything. A seat, a ride, they were very versatile. But like this, it’s almost unbearable. Eddie can’t even take himself seriously when he looks at himself in the mirror for the first time, turning in a circle for a full view, face contorting up into a expression of disbelief, embarrassment, and confusion. His eyes are wide and comical and it never fails to make you smile.

“I’m gonna have to beg Steve to retire those shorts to you,” You tell him, peeking behind him in the mirror, fingering coming up to snap at his waistband, “they’re really—“

“I think I get it now.” Eddie decides, hand rubbing lazily over his stomach as he takes in the view from the front, junk pressed obscenely against the fabric.

“Yeah—but those are definitely a bedroom only type deal,” You giggle softly, “unless you want to scare the neighbors with how visible your dick is in those, not that I don’t mind.”

“Is that why you used to go to all of Steve’s games?” He’d asked, suddenly piecing it all together. “Does Harrington know you gawked at his ass like that?”

“Oh, he’s aware.” You assure him, smiling with amusement, “He’s also a friend and I support him, but the shorts are definitely a bonus.”

Eddie hums appreciatively, glancing at himself in the mirror again.

“Steve swore it was him that was the lady magnet—but I stand by the shorts being the biggest factor.”

Steve didn’t have nearly as much game as he thought he did, not anymore, at least.

“He’ll never let you live it down if he saw you like this.” You remind Eddie playfully, “Ever.”

“And that’s exactly why this is our secret.” Eddie warns, “Steve couldn’t handle these thighs.”

You nod in agreement, lips pursed together. “Oh, absolutely.”