#i have so many ideas but lack a body fast enough to give life and a mind lenient enough to approve of the quality

[triglycercule]

normal murder time trio and then the idiocracy that is jk fashion au and the jk!mtt

[hyunebunx]

Wow I’m stupid I pressed send way too fast 🩵 with Lee Know??

˖˙ ᰋ ── 🩵 - kissing in the rain with Minho

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: a teeny tiny amount of angst but it has a happy ending

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: thank you sm for requesting!!! <3 i had soo many ways of writing this in my head that i struggled lol. i really hope you like what i came up with. it's loosely (very) based on the rain scene in pride and prejudice so enjoy!! <33

Arguments were not a usual occurrence in your relationship. Most of the time you managed to settle any disagreement before it could escalate to such heights, the perfectly communicating couple all of your friends couldn’t help but feel a little envious of.

Now was not one of those times; your stress and emotions were getting the best of both you and Minho in the most unpleasant way. You hated arguing with him, getting angry and unable to see the other’s point of view, clouded by the desire to be right and make each other understand where you were coming from.

“You don’t get it.” Minho shakes his head with a sigh, forearms resting on the wheel as the rain poured outside your safe haven, hitting the windshield at an alarming pace and preventing you from seeing anything, even with the headlights on.

“Explain it to me, then!” You bite back, body facing his in the heated passenger seat that was keeping you warm and cozy despite the chill outside. Even when arguing you could admit Minho was the most considerate person alive – you didn’t ask him to turn on the heat, he must have done it when he noticed you trembling like a leaf after getting in.

He surprised you after work, dropping by and driving directly to one of your favorite restaurants just in time for dinner and a well deserved date night. Everything was perfect, the location, the food, and especially the company, laughing and having a great time with the love of your life.

Until things turned sour on your drive home, and what started as a silly disagreement turned into a full-on argument about something you didn’t find significant enough even to remember.

“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes but it seems you don’t want to listen!”

You’ve been walking (or driving) in circles, with him getting frustrated and you following right on his tail until the car came to a stop right in front of your apartment building.

It’s not like you didn’t want to listen or care to hear him out, it’s just that Minho seemed to make something out of nothing, insisting and pushing forth the same idea like you were nothing more than a child who lacked basic comprehension. It was frustrating and exhausting, especially after the long day you’ve had.

“Min, I’ve been listening.” You try to smooth things over, warm hand landing on his thigh comfortingly. “Just because I’m not giving you the answers you want doesn’t mean I’m not hearing you.”

Minho remains silent, head turned the other way to stare out the window and not acknowledge your presence. When the silence stretches on, you give up with a sigh and retract your hand, reaching for your purse in the backseat and opening the car door in the same breath.

“What are you – “ You close it right before he can finish the sentence, set on getting inside with or without him to finally take the bubble bath you’ve been daydreaming about all day at work.

“Kitten!” His voice follows a moment later, the sound of the car door slamming louder than him amongst the deafening rain. “Y/n!”

Despite yourself and the insanity of spending even one more minute in this storm, you stop and allow him to catch up, not protesting as his warm hands land on your shoulders and turn you around almost desperately.

“Where are you going? We are not done talking.” He states, dark hair and clothes getting soaked at an alarming pace as the rain spares neither of you.

“But I am!” You exhale, the chill settling into your bones. “We won’t reach an agreement like this so let’s just stop!”

His eyes widen as he pulls you closer, chest to chest, figures illuminated by the bright headlights almost blinding. “Baby, wait – “

“I hate fighting with you, Min.” Without meaning to, you interrupt him once again, reaching up to cup his face and drag him closer. “I’m sorry, okay? We can talk this over calmly inside after we cool down. Just not like this, please, I can’t do it anymore.”

He nods instantly, agreeing without a doubt and most likely seeing his faults too, and not only yours. Then, when you expect him to let go and finally follow you in, Minho surprises you the second time tonight by leaning over and connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and love, reminding you once again that the heart in his chest beats first and foremost for you. His upper limbs cling to your body just like your clothes, hugging you tightly while your hands squeeze his face affectionately, a smile sneaking past and pulling one from him as well, on the verge of beaming into the kiss.

The rain seems to disappear, the cold too, like you weren’t bothered by either in the first place. Minho has that effect on you, helping you see the good in every situation. Sure, the location was not ideal – nothing could be less romantic than a barely lit parking lot – but as always, the company mattered more. And the message he was trying to send. When words failed you, actions worked better, speaking louder and getting your point across without much effort.

Sure, the argument wasn’t resolved but you both managed to make the other understand what mattered the most. You might be disagreeing now, momentarily stuck in a small pothole along the way, but you still loved each other, you would get over it and be okay in the end.

Because that’s what true love meant. Getting through things together and continuing to walk down your joined paths, hand in hand, no matter how many potholes or rough patches you encounter. A small setback won’t ever erase your feelings for each other, or make you forget all the beautiful moments you’ve shared.

And maybe, just maybe, a kiss was all you needed to finally understand Minho’s point when you sat down and resolved things that night. He, on the other hand, needed a few more to be satisfied.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

“Did you sleep well? Don’t lie to me, I watched you.”

¡Yandere!Dark Raiden mk11

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy. I’m sorry I haven’t ever written Raiden and so if it’s a little off…no it isn’t. Lollll I’m going to replay mk11 so I can get more into his character. But there’s a serious lack of mk11 Raiden fics??? Like what is going awn??? Y’all don’t like granddaddy??

Warnings: Yandere/Toxic themes, mentions of kidnapping, violence, threats, sleep watching…

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Raiden isn't someone who finds himself resting much of his own. There’s too many things that he has to attend to and so much of his time would be wasted if he slept most nights.

Besides who would watch over earthrealm and you if he was fast asleep…

Actually he just prefers to watch over you at night. Someone else can handle the latter but..you are far too precious for him to not protect.

Usually he’ll wait a few hours or so after you’ve finally dozed off. Giving you plenty of time to drift into a deep slumber so you cannot be disturbed by him, creeping into your bedroom.

It’s fairly enjoyable for Raiden to watch you rest. You are a very delightful sleeper. You don’t often move around or snore much. When you do make noise it is usually a sweet mummer or giggle.

It’s a huge contrast to during the day when you would be by his side. You were a very timid person and rather fidgety. Raiden understands just how intimidating he can be, but he had hoped you’d come around to it. That you’d understand his demeanor wasn’t personal against you.

He craves your affection and he’s seen how you truly are with others. He doesn’t mind your real personality, any more than the next man would. So if you’re worried he may think lowly of you for being energetic, he won’t. On top of that, he just doesn’t know how to be more inviting.

He absolutely despised how comfortable you were with other people compared to him. You’re not even this shy with his brother, Fujin.

Eventually Raiden had enough of it and decided to forcefully make you comfortable with him. No longer are you allowed out of his home or to socialize outside of him.

(Yeah that made you waaayy more comfortable 🙄)

He now has you all to himself and no one else has the right to your smile anymore.

Unfortunately though the only times you smile at now is when you are fast asleep, dreaming up your own perfect world.

Raiden didn’t mind this too much, it was enough for him just to watch over you. A little while longer and he’s sure you’ll get used to him.

The only thing that could make this any better is if he had the ability to see into your dreams.

What exactly were you dreaming of? Him? Tonight you seemed to smile more than usual, so delusionally he figured it had to be about him. Or maybe you’re thinking of the children you’ll have with the thunder lord.

He almost chuckled to himself as he proudly pondered the idea of the two of you teaching your children how to safely wield their powers. How cute it would be when they'd play tricks on you, of course he’d scold them but it would be kind of cute…

Before he could go any further into thought, your beautiful voice broke the silence—

“Heh…I wish we could have fun like this all the time..”

Could you read his mind? Were you dreaming about what he was thinking of?

The lord, becoming increasingly more intrigued by your dream, leaned in closer. Hoping for you to speak once more..hoping that it was true.

It would be just the confirmation he needed. You dreamt about a life with him, which means all of this was the right choice. You’re finally coming around sooner than he’d previously thought.

“Mmm..Johnny~”

What did you just say..?

Is that why you’re so happy tonight? It’s because of that imbecile??

Hearing you flirtatiously coo the other man’s name ‘Johnny’ was like poison to Raiden’s ears. Something sinister entered his body and before he knew it a fierce thunderstorm of emotions began to brew deep in his veins. Electric red currents started circulating his body as he stood up and towered over you. He tightened his balled fists until his knuckles grew pale white. With a tense jaw and a scowl that omitted a pure crimson color, he remained still. Not wanting to act out just yet in the height of his anger.

As much as Raiden was furious, he was also a devastated lover. You’ve betrayed him. He’s given you so much of himself only for another to occupy your mind…do you know just how much he’s put aside for you?? He’d risk all of earthrealm if it meant an eternity with you.

How DARE you…you will be punished for this. There was no way that Raiden would ever let these trifling feelings go without such.

And for that Johnny…..”Cage volume iii” isn’t going to be coming out anytime soon…

It was as if you could suddenly sense the shift of energy in the room. The warm, cheeky smile ran cold and a bolt of terror struck your core.

Tossing and turning, trying to get away from the darkness that started to overwhelm the dream, you cried out.

“….j-johnny…please help me. He’s going to find me and take me away. Please- that monster is going to get me—”

Jolting up in a cold sweat, your heart sank deeper into your chest after you noticed the narrow, crimson eyes above you.

Frantically you began to speak..

“R-Raiden?! What are—-“

“Did you sleep well? Don’t you even think about lying to me, I watched you.”

Raiden’s voice is as low as it was venomously commanding.

A beat, which felt like years, passed as you mustered up an answer to him. You were currently still too tired and distraught to even know what exactly pissed off Raiden.

“…I-I’m sorry Lord Raiden but I don’t really know what’s going on—“

“BE SILENT, Y/N!.” Raiden’s voice boomed throughout the entire tower, followed by a rumbling of thunder from outside.

From what was just a minute ago, a nice cool night turned into a heavy thunderstorm with heavy winds.

“You think of me as some kind of monster?!…” Raiden scoffed, his once balled fist turned into a sharp point of the finger.

“I understand that your feeble, human mind cannot even comprehend all of the things that I’ve been protecting you from…all of the devotion I’ve dedicated to you. But for you to blatantly disrespect your master is something I never expected from you.”

“ You’ve committed such disgusting sins….you need to be cleansed.”

“Wha- Raiden? I-I don’t understand. What did I do?.” Your eyes began to swell with tears and your voice became an unsteady mess

Raiden sneered down at you.

“Hmhp. Your pleas will not save you, my love. When I’m done with you, Johnny’s name will be scrapped from your memory and you will learn how to become properly devoted to me….and only ME.”

[writingwenches]

Beginnings

synopsis: we meet our peasant girl!OC, Lyn, as she travels to a market to sell her wares were she runs into a supposed prince, who is a bit of a brat lol. (it is alluded to that the OC is plus size and mixed race, but I did write this quick so its missing lots of info bits).

authors note: this is basically an info dump LOL the opening chapter of an oc/au House of the Dragon Aemond/Peasant!OC fic. Very Princess and the Pauper. The main idea behind it being – wanting to introduce more woman living at court in the Red Keep. Targaryen!cest is not my thing, and I think there's a lot to be said about the lack of woman at court and the fact that Targaryen daughters are expected to marry their brothers #oops.

additional lore: More about Lyn, the Lannisters, and Helaena/other characters.

word count: ~3k

warnings: barely edited, ableism, classism, body image issues, misogyny, general medieval sentiments, very AU/fast and loose when it comes to ASOIAF lore (such as I know the Septas teach girls to read, but its more fun for a cute crush to do it)

The road was well built and raised from the dank, mudded ground. The sound of horse hooves pounding ebbed in and out of focus as they hurried by. The Sister Septas never wanted to give the impression of favoritism, so they made sure to never allow the girls in their charge to ride along, if they were old enough to walk, they could carry themselves to the market, it was one of the many harsh lessons the sisters blessed her with other the years, made up of weeks of seven days, each guided by one of the seven gods.

The Day of the Mother was spent serving those in need and Lyn had worn the village paths well. Lyn was no stranger to hard work. Her frame was sturdy and healthy. Her back was wide, good for hauling bales of hey and baskets of stone. Her legs were powerful, easily carrying her the tens of miles to those in need of her services. And, adorning her face since birth, was a black mark of raised flesh below her right eye. Many say it's an omen of her mother’s sins, and a reason to be left to the charity of the Sisters. Whatever it was, it made Lyn easily requested for hired labors.

Most in the Realm would scoff at the offer of manual labors from a woman, but those in need are much kinder. They they are not always grateful, it is not because of her sex but because no one wants to turn beggar. 

The Day of the Crone was for lectures, often on the immorality of allowing one self to be in need or unwanted. For unwanted men of the realm, there was the Night’s Watch. Some unwanted boys are sent as soon as they were old enough to lift a sword. They were raised and trained to be useful along their brothers, forged to the sole purpose of defending the realm and never to be left wanting. 

The Faith recruited woman of fine birth, in want of a life not owned by a husband, and those who’s families were willing to pay handsomely for a life of purpose for their unfortunately female child. Women worked and clawed and won their way into the duty of a Septa, the Faith had no use for useless girls. There was no place in the realm for unwanted girls. Brothels did not want them. They already had enough bastards, and young flesh did not turn enough of a profit. Girls were not wanted unless they were useful, and many unuseful girls found themselves living on the streets or dead in a ditch. 

That was what would befall Lyn is she were ever to be found wanting, of something more, of something else. She was lucky to have been given her place amongst the holy woman of the Faith, even if she was not going to benefit from their handouts much longer.

Lyn was not sure how many baskets she was carrying, she had threaded her arms through as many as she was able and began the miles long trek to Haronfall Port for the market. Though she was not yet allowed to keep her own coin, it was good practice for her future life of trading and bartering amongst the peasants of the realm.

Charity is the only hope for useless girls, and not enough to go around. The Maidenhouse of Haronfall was an ancient structure, run by the Faith for centuries as a place to send discarded girl-children, forging useless girls into something worthy. It was their true calling, regardless of what those girls’ wants. 

Lyn owed everything to the Faith and the Septas, even when she received her lashings. She always deserved them. Six lashes for each offense, as was the law of the land, one for every god of the Seven, counting out The Stranger. It was bad luck to strike a seventh time, unless wishing them death. And the Septas were never that cruel. 

Lyn had received lashing her six lashing for talking back, and being a layabout, for asking too many questions, for being too ambitious, for pride, for stealing bread, for not finishing supper, for lying to protect another, for being too loud, quiet, and simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The same was true for all the girls. Sets of six lashings for each failure on the long list of their life, unless there were seven failures, then eight sets of lashings would be administered. For good luck. 

Lyn was forced to the side of the road by passing carts, hounds barking from the back of the cart as they passed the strange shape of her basket cocoon. The mud is thick and pliable, every footstep loudly sucked from the dank swamp like floor. The hundreds of other feet that had trodded the ground began the kneading. Lyn feels like she is swimming along the the edges of the road.

Lyn surmised most of the Septas had not imagined ending up in such a cold, dank place in the middle of the Kingsroad. The western shores of The Bite was unforgiving terrain, a swamp of brackish, mud-colored water that every structure eventually sinks into. The Reverend Mother often reminded the girls of her life in the southern Reach, of the endless summer days and sweet smelling grass. The wet, grey skies where the North, Riverlands and Vale meet leaves much to be desired for a southerner. 

Lynora was not meant for a life as a Septa, as was foretold since her youth. The maesters and Septons tested the young girls as they came into the charge of the Faith and Lynora, and the other girls of the Maidenhouse, left them unimpressed. She had not shown intelligence, or gifts for art, or sums, or memorizing prayers. So, she was ranked amongst the useless girls who needed to be molded into something more. 

On the Day of the Smith, the girls were instructed to work on their personal projects. Lyn was a skilled basket maker, she harvested, dried and weaved the fibers all on her own. If only the world had been in want for more basket weavers. The Septas assured her there was never a need for an extra weavers apprentice.

“Lyn!” a voice called, her face blurred out by the rising sun. “Have you been to the market yet today?” It was Mads, her fellow ward of the Maidenhouse. 

“No, it is too early,” Lyn answered the obvious question, “How did you–“

“Listen, Lord Ryver sent a raven,” Mads continued, finally coming into speaking distance. 

“But, the Septas hate when he does that–“

“Lord Ryver is playing host to none other than the prince,” Mads could not keep the secret any longer. “I have seen him myself, silver hair and all.” 

Lyn did not bother reacting, as Ryver was a known talltale-teller. “And I am secretly Lady Frey,” she laughed, “The prince is not in Haronfall.” 

“It is fated that you say Frey, because you shall never guess–“ 

“The septa told us nought a week ago of the King’s birthday tourney, don’t you think his son would be there…in the Crownlands, with his father.” 

“Waltel Frey has seen his dragon!” 

Lynora stopped at this. “And we are now believing Waltel Frey?”

“I have to go fetch Wren! She can not miss this,” Mads was the one walking now, back down the road towards the Maidenhouse to spread false whispers the Septas were sure to retaliate for. 

Lyn stepped aside when she heard the call, a two horse cart clomped past with banners of indigo, emblazoned with a proud, white bird. A matching figure sat on the cart, in the place of honor. A woman in a white dress, adorned with dyed feathers and pearls.

It was a strange feeling, knowing someones name, there was an old power Lyn felt creeping from the roots below the swampy road. Lady Hanna Mallister, filled to bursting with another pup for her lord husband. It was sickening the way her belly jiggled as the horse mindlessly aimed for the most uneven path before them. The lady had traveled a week from Seaguard for the monthly market, and Lyn had watched her grow every month with child, enough for Lyn to wonder how many babes were inside her belly this time. 

There was a parodical to bow in the presence, but there was nothing behind the lady’s eyes to notice. Lyn studied her as she passed, searching for something in response, something that could say why this woman would spend half of her life on the road, when so pregnant. 

If there was something to be said about unwanted girls, is that they were unwanted by all. Lyn was glad she would remain unwanted, there was nothing expected of her, so no one would ever be disappointed. 

Sometimes as the Lady Hanna Mallister passed, she would take a passing place down at Lyn. Lyn imagined she was looked at the mark on her face. Many people would say a quiet prayer when they say her, especially those swollen with child. A prayer that their girl doesn’t end up so disfigured and disgusting. Lady Hanna did not seem to say a prayer when she gazed down on her face, the lady did not seem to do anything. 

Lyn did not mind being disgusting and ugly, actually she enjoyed it. Girls did not care about such things as ugly, they cared about her all the same. She knew of the dangers of a beautiful face, the Septas told them every tale that could exist of beautiful girls being dragged away and savaged by men of all ages and sizes. It was horrifying. Lyn was glad that no man would ever want to drag her away or trap her in a tower. All she could promise was ugly children in return. No man wants that. So, she was glad the world was not ruled by women, just like the Septas they would force a use for her in their world, no matter what she looked like. 

By the time she reached Haronfall, long after the Lady of Seaguard she imagined, Lyn had almost forgotten about the tale of the silver haired prince. The other girls of the Maidenhouse fell into step with one another, each of the group responsible for their own wares. Name sharpened knives, Name jarred herbal jams, Name made rope, Lyn wove baskets, and the girls would peddle their wares every monthly market, bartering with connections, always on the lookout for open positions or wanted work. They were not going to live in the Maidenhouse forever, and the older they got, their chances of a comfortable life dwindled. 

His father had thrown yet another grand week in his own honor, tourneys and a great hunt in the Kingswood. Aemond had been forced to sit through enough for one lifetime, even if he was barely a man grown. He could not help but find a quick reason to excuse himself from the festivities, especially with the task of traveling halfway across the kingdom. 

Helaena had been born so closely to his father, the king, that her own name day celebrations were always greatly overshadowed. He could not help but jump at the opportunity to fetch her a gift in the Riverlands…or the Vale…or potentially the North. Flying above the lands on Vhagar, he had noticed a distinct lack of boundaries, like the ones on the Maesters maps. 

Aemond had been stuck in the cold swamplands for nearly a day, and could understand why his studied of geography skimmed over the shores of The Bite, there was simply nothing there. He was glad at the lack of fanfare at his arrival, the Lord of the keep was away, celebrating the King’s name day, and all that was left was his two sons, one near his own age, and the other barely aged out of childhood. 

His fist connected with bone. Blood leaked from holes in the boy’s face. Aemond had wrapped himself on the boy, to pin him to the first and wailed into his face. Aemond could hear the other boy shouting and grabbing his shoulders, Aemond did not yield. He was going to prove himself the victor even if it killed the boy. 

Aemond could feel hands wrapping around his face, his reflexes reacting as if they were clearly going to remove his eye patch. 

“My prince!” Ryver shouted, as if he were about to warn of a fire.

Aemond pulled his punch as Ryver’s alarmed expression bringing him back into focus to the world around them. The bustling sounds of the town. 

“The maidens,” River said, gently shaking Aemond’s shoulders at his confusion. “They are arriving!”

Walton Frey, the boy Aemond had been beating with his bare fists, smiled as blood splattered out of his mouth. 

The young boy, River’s kid brother, barely old enough to be out from his mother’s skirts, offered him a skin of water.

“What?” Aemond could not find any other word to describe his confusion. He knew of Maidenpoole and House Mooton, but they were on the other side of The Vale. The young prince racked his brain for the towns and houses of the area, unable to find an explanation. 

He simply needed to follow the pointed finger of Lord Ryver, as the Frey boy cleared the blood from his face with half the skin of water.

He heard their song first, the same tune he had heard carried by the Septas in King’s Landing when he went light candles with his mother, the queen. He had never heard the tune carried to lightly, with punctuations of laughter, and the crisp voices of youth. 

There were about a dozen of them. 

“The old bats let them come to our markets,” Ryver offered the prince his hand, to finally move Aemond off the Frey boy. “Truely, it is the only thing the market has to offer, if you ask me,” Ryver laughed, ushering the prince to the edge of the weakly fenced in training yard. “The Maiden’s of the Maidenhouse,” Ryver sighed, melting into the fence.

Pesants. The lot of them. Girls dressed in grey wool that made Aemond’s skin itch. They were each different, wearing the same dress, lacking the graceful symmetry of courtly woman. The ladies of court had their places at the sides of their husbands and fathers, offering a gentle voice and soft hand to hold. Women were there to make men better, otherwise, Otto had told him, men would regress into beasts, doing nothing but fighting and burning the realm to the ground. The ladies of court were raised with the knowledge of how to quell thoughts of violence with a simple kind glance. Not that Aemond had ever experienced it himself, but his grandsire had assured him during their many conversations about…urges.

“Ladies!” Waltel Frey called out with a wave of his sore arm. 

Aemond scoffed, it was an insult to the world to call these creatures ladies.

They approached in an uneven form, whoever veered down the path at their beckoning of a Frey. One limping girl was even carrying her own shoes amongst her wares, and Aemond could see mud past her ankles. 

“Lord Frey, do you not have two castles to sleep in, and yet you still choose to be here?” The first girl asked as she reached the fence, knocking on the helmet Ryver’s kid insisted on wearing, Aemond assumed even to bed. 

Aemond did not bother hiding his disgust at the pathetic display of peasantry that appeared before him. During his rides through King’s Landing, the prince had seen more organized gaggles of geese. The cream atop the cake approached, wearing armor of baskets, and a face smeared with mud.

She dropped the baskets at the fence line, releasing a long, labored breath. “So,” she spoke, clearly minded. 

Aemond wondered how heavy baskets could possibly be. 

“Is this your prince, Lord Ryver?” The grey clothed girl looked him directly in this eye, no sense of pretense or reverence. 

Ryver wrapped himself around the nearest fencepost to Aemond, with a wolfish grin, ready to pled his case to the nonbelievers. He had said these girls were raised by the Faith, but Aemond knew of piety, and these girls were a poor example of what a pious woman could be. 

“Are we to believe that he is the only one-eyed, silver haired, man in all the world?” a sceptic asked. 

“How many could there possibly be?” Ryver argued. 

“Yes, but,” a smaller girl interrupted, “he looks like he lost his eye, rather than–?” 

There was a bubbling in Aemond’s chest, as the peasantry spoke about him as if he weren’t even there. He could feel the dragon fire bellowing in his chest, daring them to speak ill of him, ready to burn their pathetic village to the ground. 

“Wouldn’t he had been born that way? They are forced to marry their bothers, after all? Resulting in…such things?” 

Aemond’s mouth was open, without him realizing. The rage at the memory of his defeat at the hands of his nephew vanished and was replaced with the vision of a cyclops babe, writhing in its crib. 

Ryver eyed him with suspicion. 

Aemond could not help but laugh.

[netegf]

violet chemistry (iii)

pairing: aged up!ao'nung x f!metkayina reader

plot: you and ao'nung attempt to regain control in your lives by fake-dating. the irony is... this is fated.

word count: 2.6 k

a/n: the finale of this three-part fake dating series!!! - as per usual, this takes place roughly 10 years after atwow - some angst, fluff, innuendo, and most importantly, a happy ending for our stubborn pair 🥹🩵 thank u so much for reading and i hope u enjoy!!

previous

Ao’nung never listens.

Or, maybe he did – so long as the thing being asked of him matched what he wanted to do anyways. So what? He didn’t like pretending. Much of his adolescence was especially hard for that exact reason – too many days spent gleaning the reef or building rafts with calloused hand when he wanted to swim or fight or both. But he did it anyways in the name of becoming someone his family could count on, and, though those early days spent teaching the Sully’s were no indication, because he had a palpable moral compass that took the form of a bone-chewing guilt. It meant spending many afternoons helping Tsireya with a chore she needed help with despite at first saying ‘no’. It meant teaching his little brother how to fish the best fish in the reef when all he wanted to do after training was sleep. Still, there were some things Ao’nung could not keep restrained, and some orders he simply could not take – like the order to leave you alone.

Obviously, Ao’nung runs after you.

“You’re chasing me? Really?” You groan over your shoulder, heels pounding at the grainy substrate beneath your toes, body dodging the weeping leaves of surrounding trees as you run.

Ao’nung was hot on your tail, but not enough to panic. He might have been strong, but you were fast.

“Yes, I’m chasing you! What do you think this is, Cinderella?”

When you reach the confines of your family’s marui pod, you draw the cloth sheet over the entrance and stop him in his tracks.

“Let me in. Please.” He pleads, hand pressed firmly against the divider, three-finger shaped shadow on the fabric.

You sit on the floor, head buried between the rounds of your knees now damp with hot tears. If he comes in, you think it’ll be over. Everything spilling out messily. Volatile emotions exploding against the walls. A confession you’re not yet level-headed enough to give. You thought you were ready, but you weren’t – who would ever be ready to have a dream ripped away from them?

You shut your eyes at the thought, lips warbling.

“This was a bad idea, Ao. We shouldn’t have done this. We’re… confusing everybody!”

Confusing me, would have been more accurate – but the revelation dies on your lips.

“I’m not confused.” He says with conviction.

It was true, he wasn’t. And not for lack of knowing the feeling well enough.

He’d been confused most of his life – living in limbo between the person he was and the person everyone wanted him to be – always a few seconds away from snapping until he found better ways to ground himself. His family. Friends. The water. You.

For once, he had an answer to those questions that prodded him about the future. He wasn’t confused. He knew exactly what he wanted.

You. You. You. 

It sang in his head and it was making him dizzy.

“I asked you. I asked you because you’re my friend and I trust you, because I-,”

“No!”

The desperation in your voice cuts through his train of thought.

You shove your face deeper into your knees, sinking into yourself, wrapping an arm around them and squeezing in what’s meant to be comfort but feels more like chagrin. If he was going to break your heart, then he could do it tomorrow. You couldn’t hear his praises of friendship. Not on the night you danced together. Not on the night it felt real. On the night you’ll revisit periodically in your mind to make sure it doesn’t slip away, refining the sore but unrelenting muscles of your memory.

“Please. Just go, Ao’nung.” You whisper, voice breaking. He doesn’t miss the way you use his whole name. He feels sick.

“No! I want to know why you’re upset. I-I want to know how to make it stop.”

“You can’t, okay? You can’t just fix everything!”

The silence that follows is sign enough that it went a step too far. Ao’nung’s body feels hot, but he shivers.

Fix things was one of the only ways he knew how to help. When you lost your favourite bracelet to Pandora’s light-fingered ocean in childhood, he had little to say except a gruff ‘here’ after having spent the night making you a replacement. Now, he was a lot better with his words but the urge to remove pain like it was an internal organ never deserted him.

“Fine. I’ll go.” He mumbles, shadow slowly retreating. “But this isn’t over.”

That, you could count on better than sheep as you force sleep through bleary eyelids. To you, Ao’nung sometimes listened, but he always kept a promise.

Sometimes you have a dream.

It’s a glittering shoreline with thousands of bivalves buried in sand. Each one of them special in their own rite, you can’t help yourself but to pick them up one by one, holding up their pretty ridges against the fringing beads of your top, the urge to claim them as souvenirs running hot in your veins, but you know better – they belong to the sea. Where stagnant creatures moved great distance. How inspiring, you’d thought, that the right home could do that.

“Thief.” It’s Ao’nung snickering, and you’re really not even sure you can see him. But it’s his voice. His permanence in your life.

“I didn’t even take it.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugs, eyes lidded with amusement. “Fine, almost thief, then. Happy?”

“With you?” You’re laughing now. Always. “Never.”

“Right… the same way I never ditch training to body surf?”

“Mhm, and I never stay past curfew to count the stars.”

“And I never wanna kiss you.” He bites his lip, eyes fierce and boring through you. “You get what I mean?”

Sometimes his lips make it to yours, sometimes they don’t.

Regardless, you wake up with your lips swollen and his question playing over and over again in your head – ‘you get what I mean?’.

It’s hard to say what came first, your love for Ao’nung, or the dreams about him. Maybe they were born at the same time and dreams were, as the sky people thought, an uncovering of the gritty but sort of poignant parts of your subconscious. What you did know was that the dreams about him always came on nights when you intended to pray that your deepest desires reveal themselves, but fell asleep with the words aching on your tongue. You suppose Eywa worked in not-so-mysterious ways, waking you with the wafting smell of the salty ocean and a cool breeze nipping at your feet, soft buzzing in the air through wood-winded chimes as if to say – ‘you get what I mean?’.

This morning, though, you’re not in the mood for ambiguous and one-sided conversations with the great mother, no matter how enticing they might be to fall into.

Last night was too revealing – and you knew Ao’nung would never feel comfortable moving on to court another if he felt like you were going to fall apart without him. The goal of today was to show him that you could handle it, that he deserved to find his fated match, and he didn’t need to stay tethered to you out of pity or loyalty to a childhood friend.

Even if that goal means avoiding sticky topics and squeezing Kiri’s hand in moments of instability, hard enough that she jabs you in the rib with her elbow.

“Ow!” She yelps, eyes narrowing in disapproval. “You need to talk to him before I end up in the healing tent with Ronal all morning.”

Like he can hear her, and perhaps he can with the way he’s been keeping a watchful eye over you since the moment you stepped into the communal area, Ao’nung treads over. He has a mission of his own. If you were going to reject him, then he wanted to hear you say it, even if it meant he’d never recover.

“Can I talk to you?” He murmurs, warm hand brushing over your shoulder.

“Actually, I have to-,”

“Yes!” Kiri answers for you, and bluntly.

You cast a particularly scornful glare at her, but Kiri seems unphased, softy applying pressure at the small of your back until you tumble forward into Ao’nung’s chest.

He catches you by the hips, and you’re shocked for a moment when he doesn’t take the opportunity to tease you with a coy remark, something along the lines of ‘if you wanted to touch me, then all you needed to do was ask’, instead his eyes are fervent and his lips are fixed into a straight line.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk. Fuck.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers over his jaw. “What happened last night? We don’t run… not from each other.”

Kiri seems to disappear, finding someone to chat with elsewhere.

As you make out the words through the ocean in your ears, you soften. In the best and the worst of times, you and Ao’nung were candid. Sometimes to a degree that made other Na’vi tilt their heads in confusion, like you had an especially short threshold for the inauthentic. Really, what else could you expect from two ex-hot-heads? Old habits die hard.

Still, this was intentional. Avoiding him was really the only way to ensure that your seams wouldn’t come apart. Maybe they weren’t even there and everything was just pressed together tightly. Ao’nung can tell when something’s up. He always does.

“You’re right. You’re right, I just– I felt guilty for lying.” You bite your lip, hoping it’s enough to persuade him. “To everybody. Our friends. Your parents. My parents.” Me.

“You have a real chance to love somebody, Ao. Why throw it away like this?”

“What?” His face twists sourly at the question.“No, I don’t buy that.”

“No? What do you mean ‘no’?”

“No.” He says again, more firmly this time. “You want me to believe this is some kind of honour-code bullshit? Since when do you care what anybody else thinks? This isn’t about them, it’s about us. What is this really about?”

Before the words tumble forward, a village elder wedges her way between the two of you, a haughty smile on her lips. It’s a cheap tactic, a cop-out – but the tension in the air is suffocating. When she begins sparking a conversation with you, it’s a welcome distraction that you very quickly jump on, while Ao’nung fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Are you serious?” He whispers into your ear, almost laughing. “How are you going to avoid me when I’m right here?”

“Oh, lovebirds!” The elder laments, clasping a hand on his shoulder with much more force than he would have anticipated. “Are the two of you keeping busy?”

Ao’nung can be petty, too. Maybe you just needed a reminder.

“Very busy.” He replies smoothly. “She wants six kids.”

You feel yourself choke on nothing, glaring at the side of his face while he purposefully ignores your stare.

“He wants eight.” You flash her a forced smile, delivering a light pinch to Ao’nung’s side. The elder looks between the two of you with an amused expression.

“Oh, did I say six? I meant ten.”

Fighting the urge to kick him in the ankle, you bid the elder a hasty goodbye, and tug Ao’nung by the hand, dragging his large frame towards the beach.

Begrudgingly, you sit yourself down on the sand and take a nourishing breath that does little to calm your jittery nerves.  

“Ready to talk now?”

“You know, Lo’ak was right all those years ago. You are evil.”

“Yeah, yeah. Start talking.”

It strikes you that the two of you always seem to be in the sand. Malleable landscape that you can mark-up however you please, only to be washed away seconds later, like it never happened in the first place. Lots of catharsis came from that cycle.

Lots of sunsets spent with Ao’nung, the pair of you carving your feelings into wet sand, then letting them go with the tide. Renewal. If you put everything out there, maybe it would hurt.

Or maybe it would be a renewal.

“I haven’t grown out of it.” You begin, heels digging into granules that dig into you back. He watches you shift uncomfortably, fighting the instinct to snake his arm around your waist.

“Grown out of…?”

“My crush on you. I haven’t grown out of it.” You whisper. “And I can’t fake being in a relationship with you without caving in on myself because of how much I wish it was real.”

Ao’nung feels his heart thump wildly in his chest. He hopes he doesn’t look contemplative, because there was nothing to think about.

“Then let’s do it for real.”

“Ao, be serious.”

“I mean it.” He says earnestly, warm hands finding their way to your own. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about… no, you – you’re all I’ve been thinking about. I want this so bad… don’t you? T-tell me you do.”

The vessels in your heart pinch together.

“Of course I want this.” You murmur. “It’s just…,” hard to explain that you feel like a cloud. Shapeless and confusing to everyone you interact with. “You need better, Ao. Someone that can be tsahìk. More than just a decent shot or healer. Someone that can lead… and if we’re being honest,” your lips quiver, breaking out into a teary laugh. “I’m a really horrible weaver.”

There is silence for a few moments. Then, granular particles on your face.

“D-did you just throw sand at me?”

“Yeah, I threw sand at you.” He replies matter-of-factly. “And I’ll do it again.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“I’m not going to listen to you berate yourself.” He starts again. “You’re not a decent shot, you’re a great shot. Maybe healing isn’t your forte, but you patch me up just fine and honestly, I can’t really stomach the thought of anyone else doing it. You have an energy the People hang onto. Our friends love you, our elders love you, my parents love you. Above all that, I love you.”

He cups your cheek softly, pupils staring tenderly.

“Do you get it? The weaving… it’s true, that cannot be helped.” He chuckles, and you shove him gently in the chest. He catches your hand. Holds it against his heart. “But my tsahìk only needs to be one thing. You.”

As you lean in to catch his lips in a searing kiss, it feels easier than you might have expected.

No resistance, nothing holding you back, keeping you tethered by the hair or spine. Really, it’s like the air is pushing you forward into someone that it knows will catch you. Every time.

“It might be hard.” You say breathily when you pull apart.

The road ahead was something that struck great fear in you. Ao’nung has the urge to chase your lips again and never let them go, but he wrestles it just enough.

“Hey.” He tugs on your chin, crooked smile playing on his mouth. “You said you like a challenge, remember?”

Your amused laugh mixes into the smiley kiss after smiley kiss you press onto his lips. The reef is none the wiser… these kisses look just like the first one. Sure, this time they were real, but maybe that meant less than you thought.

The love was always there. A grain of sand could see it.

a/n: reblogs + tags + comments are always appreciated 🪐🩷 thanks for reading and i hope it made you feel good!! did you notice any easter eggs?

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

hellcheer for the ship asks!!! 💗

SO glad you asked, buddy! As usual, I have so much to say lol.

when I started shipping it if I did: The forest scene of course!!! It changed lives. Her quick death was a punch to the gut though and it took until I finished Volume 1 and was on Tumblr looking through tags that I started thinking more deeply about them. I joined a discord server a few weeks later and the hyperfixation was in full effect. 

my thoughts: They’re soulmates and that’s that.

what makes me happy about them: I don't know how to word this in the way I want to, cause I don't want it to be a "they complete each other" thing BUT they each have these personality traits and skills that the other lacks and it's just so complementary of them, you know? She's quiet and reserved and sad but stubbornly hopeful and optimistic about people, while Eddie is boisterous and feeds off attention and is cynical about the world yet softened so immediately in Chrissy's presence. They give each other things they need but could never find before they found each other. 

what makes me sad about them: They're canonically dead. Eddie could never save her in the way he wished he could. They never got to do ketamine together and kiss a lil.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I'm always nervous to answer questions like this, but here is one of my big secrets: I hate when Eddie calls Chrissy Chris. I have such a firm headcanon that Eddie knew it's what Jason called her, and he specifically avoided it because of that. His reasons are twofold: cause he connects the nickname with the way Chrissy always shrunk herself in Jason's presence, and cause of some inner neanderthal instinct that makes him wanna avoid anything to do with the love of his life's ex. It's inevitable that the first time he calls her that in any fic, in my head, I hear it in Jason's voice from the time he said in on the show and it always takes me out of the fic. It's not something that will make me stop reading at all, but it's definitely a mental block where I actually have to work to imagine it the way it's intended.

things I look for in fanfic: 

Fastburn! I can do slowburn of course, but my idea of Hellcheer is that they fall so fast and so deep that it's what makes the most sense. 

Chrissy developing strong female friendships in the background is super important to me.

In future fics, Eddie being super content and fulfilled having a normal non-rock star life in my absolute jam.

Super emotionally charged character-driven sex.

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: No one else. I can play around with Chrissy having a few other relationships with Kali, Eden or Robin, and Eddie having a lil thing with Jonathan when they were younger, but I don’t believe either of them could or would ever love anyone like they do each other, and they would never be fulfilled in a relationship with anyone else.

my happily ever after for them: There are so many potential happily ever afters for them! Honestly, anything that involves Chrissy healing and finding herself, Eddie making peace with the chip on his shoulder and finding a way to feel like he's enough just as he is, and them having many years to know and love each other.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Just due to their literal bodies, Chrissy is usually the little spoon, but she loves switching it up and holding him in her lap. It comforts them both.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Playing music & writing songs together after Chrissy has learned to play guitar. Talking in bed when they're both falling asleep but they've been too busy to connect very much lately so they're both trying hard to stay awake and give themselves a moment together. Eddie loves cooking for Chrissy (she likes giving him kisses while he's doing it). Making up outrageous life stories about strangers they see in public. Chrissy loves pranking Eddie cause he never sees it coming. I know this was supposed to be just 1 favorite activity but they love doing ALL the things together, ok????

[idigitizellp21]

Is Aging Truly FUN?, By professional psychologists at ImPerfect

Dada- dadi, nana- nani, Anju’s favourite people in her life. Anju is 19 now. Anju worries about her grandparents and she also worries about her friend’s grandparents. She knows her best friend’s grand mom is being forgetful and she is already on medication. “Everyone at home is busy. None of us spend enough time with them. I try my best to spare some time but with college and my schedule it becomes difficult. What will happen to them? Will they also become like Sarita aunty?” she questions.

Anju is not the only one going through this dilemma. I must say, she is fortunate to be available for them. There are so many seniors who live by themselves. Or live with someone who is frequently away from home. Or whose children have migrated and have no time for them. Families and children living abroad too are unable to look after their parents. They feel lonely and isolated.

With development, certain situations for our seniors have changed. Nuclear family system, has created a void, a certain degree of isolation, loss of respect, lack of care and a sense of insecurity or depression.

Well, there are a few things that we can do to keep our seniors engaged.

Find time from our busy schedule and spend a few quality moments with them.

We can visit them often.

Enjoy a hot cup of tea or coffee with them.

Treat them at simple cafes.

Go to the park with them. Walk with them or just sit in the open with them.

Take a walk with them.

Make them feel independent. A sense of purpose or usefulness. Take their opinions.

Discuss current affairs. Show interest in knowing and understanding their earlier lifestyles.

Understand how they manage to adapt to this ever so fast paced changing world.

Play games with them.

Respect them. Give them their own space. But let them know that you care and be there for them.

Give your full attention and be patient.

Memory loss, Alzheimer, Parkinson, poor health, weakness or insecurities set in as we age.

What should our seniors do to keep fit and active themselves?

Go for regular walks.

Socialize.

Make an attempt to keep in touch with friends at least over a phone call.

Try to learn and adapt to new technology.

Continue with your hobbies.

Listen to music.

Move around, dance or shake a bit.

Laugh and smile all the time.

Continue playing board games/ chess/ sudoku/ draw/ paint/ scribble/ doodle.

Pray, meditate.

Keep yourself well hydrated.

Breathe, breathe and breathe well.

Practice gratitude.

Although this does not seem to be a favourable option in our culture, but with changing times and circumstances, explore the idea of living in an old age home. These days there are good homes with very good facilities.

Social day care centre is another option. Become a member of such a centre. You would meet new people and make new friends.

Keep yourself active, in body and mind.

Yes, age gracefully and make it fun filled.

Kashmira Adil Kakalia, is a Special Educator and a Mental Health Professional from the best psychology consulting clinic at ImPerfect. She uses Narrative Therapy in her practice. She works with students, young adults, adults, senior citizens, individuals and families.

[ceruleanchillin]

When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

A:

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

C:

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

E:

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[demonsandco]

I searched through your blog and I'm honestly so surprised you don't have more Simeon content. That being said, if you're still doing it, can I get the WHOLE smut alphabet for Simeon?

You’re right! It’s a shame cause he’s very much one of my favorites now that we get to see more of him in game! Normally I wouldn’t do the entire alphabet like this because it’s… a lot, but Simeon deserves it uwu. This is nearly 3000 words, which makes it my longest post yet by a long shot!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Simeon is such a sweetheart after sex. He’s not actually sleepy, but his limbs feel like jelly and he’s full of so many soft, loving emotions. All he wants to do is keep his partner close in his arms, slyly stealing kisses from their lips and whispering words of love in their ear. He’s not eager to get up or move at all, but he’s willing to have a bath or grab some water if they join him. Sex leaves him feeling rather emotional and vulnerable, and he really just wants to feel them near him and hear their voice.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Simeon’s favorite part of his body is his hands. He wears gloves often to protect them, leaving his skin feeling so soft and smooth. He’s a very hands on type of person, and he’s quite skilled with them, too. One of his favorite things to do during sex is run his hands up and down his partner’s sides, feeling their warmth under his palms.

In turn, Simeon loves every part of their body. If he had to pick just one part, though, it would be their eyes. He’s a firm believer in the saying that “eyes are the windows to the soul” and he could lose himself in their gaze. He’s fond of maintaining eye contact, watching their expression shift as they get close and memorising the different shades and tones that make up their eye color.

(Cont under the cut)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Simeon cums so much, both in quantity and frequency, but he hates the messiness of it. It feels good in the moment, but it gets cold and sticky way too quickly for his liking. He really likes to see his partner covered in his cum, as though he marked them as his in a way only the two of them would know about, but he’s always quick to help clean them up before it gets uncomfortable.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Simeon really doesn’t have anything that he would call a dirty secret. All the sexual experiences he’s had in the past have been quite tame and he’s very much not the type of person to feel ashamed about his past actions or keep them secret. He’s an open book when it comes to relationships and sex.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, angels are allowed to have sex. As long as it doesn’t impact their duties, angels can do whatever they want with their private lives, and Simeon very much took advantage of that. He’s had quite a few partners in the past, especially before the war took place. His original rank as a Seraph gave him a lot of popularity among other angels. His experiences have taught him a lot about how to make his partner feel good in many different ways, but he never really had the chance to figure out what he enjoys. There’s a huge opportunity for them to experiment with his body and to teach him more than just the basics.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Simeon is really open to experimenting and trying out new positions, so he doesn’t have just one favorite. However, the positions he enjoys most are ones where he can see his partner’s face, especially if the position lets him pull them against his chest when he feels the need for closeness. He’s open to just about any position, though, even if it seems rather absurd at first.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simeon isn’t goofy enough to ruin the moment, but his playful nature definitely shines through. If he’s in bed with someone, that means he feels close to them emotionally, too, so he feels comfortable enough to not stay serious all the time. Sometimes things go wrong in the moment or something silly gets said out loud on accident. He doesn’t see anything wrong with laughing it off or jokingly teasing each other. He’s good at telling when the mood allows for some laughs and when some composure is necessary.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Being an angel, Simeon’s body is almost entirely hairless. Besides the hair on his head, the only other hair on him is a small patch above his cock and a very faint happy trail. He doesn’t enjoy the feel of shaving, but he does keep it very neatly trimmed at all times. Colour wise, it matches the hair on his head perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Simeon is quite romantic in the moment. Love and intimacy are very important aspects of sex to him, and that comes through in most of his actions. His pace, his preferred positions, everything reflects that intimacy that he craves. Through it all, he’s sweet talking to his partner, letting them know how good they make him feel, how important they are to him, and how much he loves them. He knows he might come across as too intense, but he wants to make sure they know that sex isn’t just about the physical aspect for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Simeon rarely, if ever, feels the need to masturbate. Without a partner, sex really isn’t something he thinks about often, and if he does have a partner, he’d much rather take care of his need with them, rather than on his own. If he does end up jacking off, though, he always ends up fantasising about them, and he finds that he can’t actually cum without imagining them being there with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Unsurprisingly, Simeon has a corruption kink. It came as a huge shock to him when he first realised it, but something about having his sweet little human tempt him and lead him down a path of “sin” excites him. It feeds into his rebellious nature that he constantly tries to control. It gives him a rush of adrenaline whenever they convince him to do something shameful or lewd and he finds himself enjoying it and even craving more instead of actually feeling shame.

As well, Simeon also has a massive praise kink. He always strives to please his partner as best as he can and getting positive reinforcement, something he rarely hears normally, sends shocks of pleasure shooting down his spine. The more praise he gets, the more eager he is to be good. If he’s being bratty, praising his good behavior in the past gets him to behave much quicker than a “punishment” would.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Simeon’s preferred location is either his or his partner’s room. It’s a place that feels safe and familiar, while also offering privacy. They can take as much time as they want and be as loud as they feel like without having to worry about anyone bursting in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Getting Simeon turned on is pretty easy. All his partner needs to do is be direct with their advances. Their boldness excites him. He isn’t the type of person to get turned on by seemingly innocent actions, so their intent needs to be clear. That, alongside some suggestive touches, is more than enough to get him in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Simeon is usually open to trying anything once and there’s not a lot that he’s opposed to, but he is very serious with his boundaries. He refuses to allow sex with his partner to start impacting his day to day life. Skipping classes, missing meetings, or even risking being late to something, even if it’s not important, in favor of sex is a big no for him. He makes his boundaries very clear from the start, and will quickly become harsh if his partner doesn’t respect them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Simeon has almost no experience in oral, giving or receiving, but it quickly becomes one of his favorite things. He could spend hours between his partner’s thighs without getting bored. While he’s rather hesitant and unsure at first, he’s very skilled at reading their reactions and starts adjusting his technique to make them feel as good as possible.

He doesn’t enjoy receiving quite as much, but he still loves it! It’s so easy for his partner to make him cum or overstimulate him with just their mouth. The warm wetness of their mouth feels divine and their breath is so hot against his skin, he can’t help but cum embarrassingly quickly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Simeon greatly enjoys taking his time with his partner, keeping a slow and sensual pace and exploring every inch of their body with his mouth and hands. He’s not a fan of rushing, even as he gets closer to his peak, he keeps his pace steady, his body molding against theirs. He’s not opposed to going faster if they prefer that, but his favorite pace will always be slow and intimate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Simeon is not a fan of quickies. He’ll be open to trying it at least once, but he knows from the start that it’s not his cup of tea. The whole thing just feels so rushed and impersonal to him. The most important part of sex to him is the intimacy and emotional connections, and quickies feel very lacking in comparison. If anything, they leave him craving his partner even more than before.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Simeon is very open to experimenting and he’s always excited to learn and experience new things. He’s willing to try anything once, even if it’s something that he’s pretty sure he won’t enjoy. The idea of taking risks also interests him, but it needs to only be a perceived risk for him to participate. Something like messing around in an empty classroom at RAD is exciting, but it needs to be afterhours when the school is empty and the door has to be locked for him to feel comfortable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Simeon’s stamina is not the best, at least at first. He can go for more rounds than the average human just because he’s an angel, but he’s so unbelievably sensitive that the rounds themselves are rather short. It’s been so long since he’s had anyone touch him sexually that he ended up cumming in his pants the first time he was with his partner. With time, his stamina will improve drastically, probably to the point where he could easily outlast them, but he needs some practice to get there.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys aren’t something Simeon has ever really thought about using or has ever owned. When he sees the huge variety of toys that exist, he feels excited to try them out, mostly relying on his partner’s preferences and recommendations to pick some. He quickly learns that he really enjoys having them use different toys on him and, in turn, he loves the new opportunities the toys give him when it comes to pleasuring them in return. The possessive, prideful part of him that is usually buried very much prefers making his partner feel good on his own, without toys to help, but most of the time, he doesn’t mind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The first time he teases his partner, it’s entirely accidental, his habit of going slow and taking his time exploring their body ends up making him tease them. Once he sees the way it makes them feel, though, he starts doing it on purpose, wanting to see more of their reactions. He’ll relent, with a smug little smile on his face, if they start begging, but until then, he plays the innocent card, pretending not to realise what he’s doing.

As much as he likes to dish it out, Simeon really can’t take much teasing. He’s so sensitive and desperate that he’ll start begging immediately, willing to do anything just to feel more of their touch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Simeon is naturally very loud and he lets out the prettiest sounds. At first, he tries to muffle them and keep his volume down. He talks quite a bit, at least while he’s still able to form coherent thoughts, and loves to whisper sweet things to his partner in a breathy tone. The closer he gets to cumming, the more his words devolve into delicate gasps and high pitched moans. When he cums, he lets out the longest, breathiest whine that no amount of gritting his teeth or covering his mouth could smother. He’s very vocal throughout, and without some sort of soundproofing, his voice can very much be heard through the walls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Simeon has a hard time controlling his wings during sex. He can’t focus hard enough to keep them hidden and they tend to have a mind of their own, fluttering and puffing up depending on how he feels. They’re quite sensitive in the moment too, especially at the base. In the end, he finds himself wrapping his wings around his partner as he pulls them close, keeping them warm and safe under his feathers. Unfortunately, this usually means that the bed is covered in feathers from all his flapping and wiggling.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Simeon has such a pretty cock, so perfectly smooth that it almost looks like a drawing rather than an actual dick. He’s large enough to be impressive without seeming intimidating, with just enough girth to feel like a stretch, but not be painful. It’ll still take some prep for his partner to take him, but it won’t be too difficult with some patience and plenty of lube.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Simeon’s libido isn’t very high at all, and sex isn’t something that’s on his mind constantly. What matters to him most is spending quality time with his partner, regardless of what they’re doing together. They usually need to be the one to actually initiate things, since he has no qualms with pushing down his need to avoid ruining the moment. With how much he values physical touch, it’s not hard for cuddles to become something more, and as long as there’s time for it, Simeon will never say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sex doesn’t exactly leave him feeling sleepy, but it does make him feel extraordinarily relaxed. He tends to follow his partner’s lead, staying awake longer if they don’t plan to sleep right away. With how warm and soft he feels, though, he has no trouble falling asleep quickly, cuddling them close to his chest to absorb more of their body heat. If it’s up to him, he prefers to share some casual pillow talk together, before falling asleep soon after. If he can avoid having to get up and be functional, he will.

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[goddess-evelle]

We are here for you

Someone requested this:

Yoo thought of a idea hear me out

Poly dream team x fm y/n

Okay so y/n is having a really bad week like really really bad, and when she gets home to the boys she has like the biggest mental breakdown, she throws things, she shouts a whole load of crap, once she is done shouting and breaking things she hudles in a ball and starts crying.

The boys try to calm her down while also dogging all the things she is throwing they try yelling her name but she can't hear them since she in like her 'own little world'. They leave her for a bit and they have a little talk to try and figure out what happened to her.

By the time she has calmed down she talks to the boys and it turn into a really heartwarming cute ass fluff.

Please can you do this pleaseeee😖

Warnings: Just fluffy

Dream team x fem reader

Okay, so I am not the best at writing fluff, but I gave it a try. <3

Your head banged on the table in front of you. You just got home from college. Your professor had given yet another essay. You were so tired of written essays. You had 5 essays to do, and while you had 2 of them started; they were so much trouble to write. You just wanted to lay in bed for 5 minutes minimum; you just needed to close your eyes for 5 minutes. You had been working so much; barely sleeping so that you could take advantage of the few hours the night provided. Your mind had been too busy thinking of themes to write about. The professor really thought that having a book helped; that only mad you want to slap him. Of course, it’s easier with a book; if he hadn’t given 3 books for 3 of the essays. The problem was that your other 2 professors thought the same thing giving you 2 more books to do the other two essays. You rolled your eyes as you tried to think of how to start the essay. Your eyes lighted up as a thought ran through your mind. Your hands moved quickly on the keyboard as you chased the idea squeezing the juice, and writing as much as you could. Your mind flowed as you wrote for what felt like hours. Your hands becoming numb by the time you finished.

You let out a sigh as you stretched limbs separating as your bones cracked. You looked at the hour 5:45 am you hadn’t even realized it was that early; you started at 11:13 pm working on the essay, so naturally you were a little tired, but you knew better than going to sleep. Thanks to those extra hours you were able to complete two essays which meant you only needed to finish two more, and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. You headed to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. However, when you reached the kitchen; the boys were standing right next to the coffee maker. You try to breathe as a you try to relax; spending many hours in front of the computer had given you a migraine. You close your eyes tightly as you gulped making your way to the coffee maker. Before you could even touch it; George’s hand came to stop you.

“You can’t just drink coffee all day; you have to sleep” George starts, and you can only roll your eyes. You didn’t have time for this; you just wanted to finish your essays you already had 3 done. You just needed an extra cup of coffee to finish the other 2 essays. You did not have time to be talking right now you had to finish your essays.

“I just want a cup of coffee; it’s no big deal. I just need to finish two of my essays” You say trying to keep your voice low; even though your mind rushed with angry thoughts. Why did they have to interfere in your life? It annoyed you; they didn’t even know how it felt to be surrounded by essays and projects.

“You took three cups of coffee yesterday; I saw you. You have to sleep; you’ve been drinking coffee none stop, and you are not even eating properly” Dream spoke up this time only making you angrier.

“I can’t sleep yet!” You yelled out before being able to stop yourself. “I have two more essays to finish; I just need to keep going, and I will be fine. I will eat after I finish them. I just really need to finish it.” You say voice desperate for some coffee your eyes could barely stay opened. The boys knew what a lack of sleep could do to a person that is why they tried to let you be, but it had gone too far. They had tried to make you eat something, but you refused saying that you didn’t have time. They were scared that you would get sick for not taking care of yourself properly.

“Y/n just please take a break. Your other two essays are due Friday, right? It’s Tuesday; I’m sure you have enough time to finish them.” Sapnap tried to help, but you only saw red.

“I have to finish them now! My mind is just working so fast; I finished three essays already. My mind is just flowing with ideas. I need to finish them now.” You said voice getting louder and louder as they didn’t give you what you wanted.

“We will not let you go back to writing unless you sleep for at least 8 hours” Dream started.

“And- you have to eat at least three meals during the day” Sapnap added trying to persuade you into giving in. You didn’t have any of it; eyes seeing red as you throw your coffee mug to the ground. The ceramic breaking instantly.

“I will not go to sleep! I just need coffee, and I will be good to go! Just get out of my fucking way!” You were completely yelling, and you could only think of the coffee. You pushed pass George as you got to the coffee maker only for Dream to snap it from your hold. Strong arm holding the coffee maker so that you couldn’t use it.

“The fuck are you doing?! Give it! I need the coffee” You said as you yanked the coffee maker towards you; Dream however, did not let go. A few seconds passed as you tried to get the coffee maker; only for Dream’s hand to slip as the coffee maker came crashing to the ground. You stared angrily at the shattered coffee maker that was pretty much useless now. Your body had taken too much as you slide to the ground looking at the coffee maker. Your mind rushed with thoughts as you began crying; the stress from college being too much. You cried to your heart’s content; you looked at Dream before standing from your spot on the floor saying:

“Why the fuck would you do that? Are you fucking stupid?” The words leaving your lips without a second thought as you confronted Dream; now coming chest to chest with him as you looked up at him rage taking over your actions. Your mind being too caught up on the stress to even think. Dream talked to you, but you didn’t even hear what he said.

“I’ve had enough of this. You will go to the bedroom, and you will sleep! I do not care what you want you have to sleep” Dream spoke to you his words being rough as he talked to you. He was done with this he could not let you treat yourself this way; you were hurting yourself for some stupid essays. You moved closer to him as your mind is blank; not even a single thought of what he just said. You knew he was talking, but your mind was too tired to pay attention.

“Y/n please, we don’t want you to get hurt. You could get sick” Sapnap tried, but before he could finish George moved towards you putting a hand on your cheek finally gaining your attention as he said “Exactly, what good are you if you get sick now? You won’t even be able to finish the essays. Just take a break; go sleep, and eat something.” Your eyes widened as you realized what they were saying; they were right; you could get sick, and then you wouldn’t be able to finish the essays. You gave George a small nod as he took you to the bedroom to get you to sleep.

“I swear to god. She always does what George tells her to.” Sapnap grunted being slightly jealous of George’s ability to make you obey him. Dream laughed at Sapnap’s words knowing it was true. George knew how to get you to follow his words.

You opened your eyes to find the boys looking at you. Sapnap had a bowl of food in his hand. While Dream had a water bottle. You sat up as Sapnap handed you the food.

“Thank you” you said, but your mind rushed with what happened earlier. “I am sorry about earlier; I didn’t mean to be rude. I just- I’m just stressed” You said trying to explain yourself.

“We know; it’s okay. We are not mad at you; we just want you to take care of yourself. We love you so much; we don’t want anything bad happening to you.” George said while he engulfed you in a hug.

“We are here to help. You can talk to us about whatever you want. We love you so much; we are here for you” Sapnap said holding your hand. Dream bent down to give you a kiss, and the three of you laid in bed as the boys watched you eat some much-needed food. The night ended with you finishing your two essays as the boys cuddled, and kissed you until you all fell asleep.

[astaroth1357]

More undateables with a demigod hades mc???

By request, have yourself a part two!! 

Demigod MC Series: Hades Pt. 2 (Un)Dateables Edition!

I will ask that y’all please don't ask for continuations of other gods unless I say it’s okay to do again. This series already fills my inbox something fierce and this is a one-off that I allowed for during the request window.  If I have to make ideas for new gods while continuing a bunch of old MCs, it'll burn me out fast...

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2

Diavolo

Oh, he has no problem at all hosting a child of the Underworld, hell he even throws them a welcome banquet when he finds out! Hades is a dear friend - and practically a parental figure to him growing up - so he's more than happy to take in one of his children for a year.

Diavolo is actually one of the few people that the MC can talk to about their home with any kind of fondness. Usually when they bring up things like the comforting wailing of the River Coctyus, the brothers will give them weird looks... but Diavolo knows where they're coming from!

He spent numerous summers in the Underworld growing up doing things like pestering Charon on the River Styx or playing games with Cerberus (the other one) in the Asphodel Meadows... His beach house is actually modeled after his childhood summer home in the Isles of Paradise! Really, it can be a lovely place if the gloom doesn't bother you!

So in the spirit of his fond memories, Diavolo really tried to make their time in the Devildom a fun one!... in his maybe trying a little too hard way…  

Poor MC found themselves offered pretty much everything under the moon… Tickets or exclusive passes to different cultural events/festivals, invitations to gala events, and tours of nearly every inch of Hell by the Prince himself - it was… it was a lot for the poor introverted thing…

It didn’t help that Diavolo would have a hard time gauging if they were having any fun due to their naturally melancholic nature, which only pushed him to try harder… He means well, he does. He’s just not the most in touch with what would make an anti-social doom child happy...

It took Barbatos and Lucifer stepping in for the mortal to actually start getting some much needed space and that improved their experience significantly. Sometimes less is more, Dia… Less is more. But they appreciate his efforts anyway.

Barbatos 

Also has a pretty amicable relationship with the Ruler of the Underworld, though his is much more professional compared to Diavolo’s. He actually has a good deal of appreciation for the man for taking good care of the Prince during his visits, so he sees this as an opportunity to return the favor.

Like Diavolo, he’s rather focused on making sure the MC is having a good stay in the Devildom, but he’s much more subtle about it. He’ll come by the House often to check up on them and make sure everything is to their liking... 

Even the brothers notice that he treats them like anothering visiting Lord/Lady in that way, which he would argue they very much are and should be respected as one. It’s the least the Devildom can offer their father at this point.

His visits may also be an excuse for keeping an eye on the brothers to make sure they don’t do anything to inconvenience their “young guest…” To be honest, the entire House is a little paranoid about that… Nobody wants to know the punishment for hurting MC if Barbs is the one dishing it out...

Apart from watching out for them, Barbatos tries to encourage the MC to accept the Young Lord’s gifts (while also actively advising Diavolo to go easier on them at the same time). It would be so disheartening to him if his Prince feels like he hasn’t offered them the best experience that he could… He’s sure they understand.

Any time that he invites the MC to tea, they usually end up talking about their father in some way. Barbs knows a surprising amount about the god… He’s been around about as long as Chronos - preceding the birth of Aether and Chaos themselves - so he has some stories to tell.

The MC did once ask him why he doesn’t just run everything if he’s really been around for so long... his answer was: “Kings and their kingdoms will rise and fall… Worlds upon worlds are born, then cease to be. But time is what brings about all changes… So, I think I’m perfectly content with the power I possess. Wouldn’t you be?” 

Annnd they never asked Barbs another question like that again… and people think death is scary… 

Simeon 

He was honestly a little worried for their new companion for quite a while… It’s not like there’s never any sadness in the Celestial Realm or anything, but they seem to have something else entirely…

He’s heard stories about the Underworld. He’s never been himself, that’s usually a job for the Seraphim due to the… dreary nature of the place - but he’s heard it would make the Devildom look downright festive…

If he were being honest, he had half expected the MC to be obsessed with skeletons, ghosts, and other elements of darkness but that wasn’t the case. They certainly knew a lot about those things, but they appeared to have a healthy interest in the afterlife in general, so they asked him a lot of questions about the Celestial Realm, angels, and how the souls of the blessed are treated up there… It was surprising to say the least.

Of course he did the same and, frankly, Simeon found it incredibly wasteful that so many Greek followers find themselves just wasting away in a field of nothing for so long… but that’s neither here nor there.

He was also surprised by how gentle of an influence the MC ended up being on Luke as well. He had always suspected that the little angel just needed a bridge between him and Devildom to start finding appreciation for it, and the MC fit that bill perfectly - nothing he was used to, but still approachable enough to make everything less frightening. He thanks them a great deal for that… but...

It’s just that… Well they’re just so… depressing sometimes…! He doesn’t want to blame them because it hardly seems like their fault! They’re a very kind person, it’s just an atmosphere around them… It brings him to tears if he isn’t careful…

He’s invited the MC to Purgatory Hall on multiple occasions to chat and try to make them smile… When they do, the gloom is dispelled - even just a little - and they’re a truly beautiful creature regardless. It’s just so unfortunate that their life brings so much sadness...

Even so, he actually likes the MC enough to consider basing a character on them if he ever wrote another book. Something about a gloomy but sweet protagonist at home in a world of darkness sounds appealing… doesn’t it?

Luke

He didn’t know how to feel about the MC when they met. At first, he actually thought they were just as unhappy as he was to be there due to how depressed they looked but when they told him that wasn't true, he was really confused...

The Devildom is a dark, brutish, and dangerous place. Why would anyone feel at home down here??

But… well… He would spend time with them at RAD between breaks (partially to help scare off their many, many demonic suitors) and it might be weird to say, but they really made the Devildom look beautiful… literally.

The world just looks better when they’re around! It’s really hard to describe because it’s not something you notice much until they leave, but when the MC is around everything looks more vibrant and inviting! The grass gets greener, flowers grow bigger, and butterflies/birds hover around wherever they are like they have their own gravity - the realm loves them!

It started getting hard for Luke to hang onto his disdain for the place when they made it look so appealing… And then they started talking to him about the Underworld and the creatures they’d befriended there… creatures a lot worse than any demons he’d seen there...

Like. If the MC can be good friends with a bunch of rude walking corpses, then he could probably make friends with a demon right? There’s nice ones… kind of… 

Beel. He can make friends with Beel.

Like Simeon, he does feel bad that they seem so sad all the time… but unlike the older angel, he’s a bit more understanding that this is just how they are and enjoys his time with them regardless. (It helps a lot that just being around this little bean of a boy can lift their spirits anyway).

And you know what’s even better for him? When Lord Diavolo gives the MC tickets to things that they don’t want to go to, sometimes they’ll invite him along or give them to him instead! 

He’s gone to the Devil’s Coast with MC and Simeon sooo many times by now and he loves it!! Maybe the Devildom isn’t so bad after all, I mean, it can be a lot of fun when you go to the right places, anyway.

Solomon

Oh, he finds them both deeply fascinating and utterly terrifying - so just his sort of test sub-er, person!

He kids (somewhat), Solomon isn’t that dumb/lacking in self-preservation instinct. Experimenting on a child of death in a land of the dead (even if it’s not their “home turf”) would be asking for trouble. They’d have more than enough ammunition to fight him off and if their father found out? Immortality wouldn’t even begin to save him...

That being said, questions aren’t necessarily experiments… and oh boy, does he have a lot of them.

If the MC isn’t being pestered by Diavolo or the brothers, then they’re probably having to put up with Solomon nipping at their heels trying to get them to use their powers or answer all sorts of “innocent” scientific questions…

“MC, reanimation of Greek dead requires a blood offering, correct? Do you have to sacrifice animals for that process or do you allow them to feast on your own?”

“MC, when you’re controlling a skeleton do you move the body as a whole or do you have to animate each individual bone due to their lack of ligaments?”

“Think fast!! Oh look, you just caught the skull of my good friend, Richard! Could you bring him back from that, or should I fetch the rest of him?” 🙂

They put up with it because, believe it or not, he’s not nearly the weirdest person they’ve ever met (a lot of crazy people drift in and out of the land of the dead…) and well… they’re a pretty lonely person too so it’s not like they have a lot of standards when it comes to friendships anyway.

But the second they breathe a word of this to Barbs or Diavolo, this boy is on his way to a royal restraining order… Where does he even get those skulls…?

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.

1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.

But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.

Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.

What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.

Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.

“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”

Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.

“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.

“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.

“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”

The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.

“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.

“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.

“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”

Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.

“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”

“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.

“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...

[proserpina-magnus]

☘️peter pettigrew

Hii! Like my other nsfw alphabets, this is a bit choppy and horribly edited. I hope you enjoy, mwah.

Peter Pettigrew Nsfw Alphabet

Reader: tried to make it nb as much as possible

Warning: pure smut and no editing.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Super sweet and gentle, definitely encourages you to take a nap and he'll bring you a snack or get you some water. He’ll rub your back and kiss your hot skin to cool you off. He definitely loves giving you praises and he’s spoil you rotten with his words.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands, for some odd reason he just finds them so cute whenever you grip his hand for support as you climax or hold his cock.

His favourite body part on himself delphiers between days, but he’s usually very fond of his eyes. He’s very fortunate that he can look at you in such a lewd manner.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He usually always cums in a condom, but he loves cream pies. He, not so surprisingly, likes giving you oral for the exact reason he can taste you, he actually thinks he’s addicted to it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s ashamed to admit, but once he was talking to James about a certain time when he fucked you in the library and James got a hard on. He swore he wouldn’t tell and it’ll be their secret, but he always felt guilty for sexualizing you like that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s okay, he knew some of the terminology due to the other Marauders but with actual hands on experience; he had no idea. He felt a bit nervous during your first time but he didn’t need much help, he’d just pay attention to your reactions and get a clear view of what you’d like and focus on that.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes when you ride him, he likes to hold your hips and just let you use him for your heart's desire. If he had to choose another, doggy would be his favourite.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Peter doesn’t know he’s being funny until you have to stop and laugh, he’ll be confused on what he’d say and get a goofy smile on his lips while watching you laugh. Sometimes just the first awkward start of sex and the small giggles feel better than the serious times, but Peter can be really gentle and intimate if he wanted to be.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s somewhat groomed, he doesn’t necessarily care for your hair down there or his own. It’s a bit darker than his head hair, but he trims it sometimes just to keep it neat.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Lots of neck kisses, he needs to constant “I love you’s” during sex even if it’s rough. He’s actually pretty gentle during some moments and cares about your pleasure over his.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He actually never liked it, he likes your mouth a lot more even if it was just for cock warming. He’d enjoy your hands better than his, but he also has a somewhat size kink and seeing your much smaller hands take his cock please him a lot more.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

There isn’t necessarily a set number of kinks, he’d love to try anything that isn’t too “weird” as he would call it. He never really likes to stick to one kink, more like spreading them out depending on his mood. One day he’d want to tie you up and the other he’d let you do whatever you wanted. He adores pillow prince(ss) though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, he’d fuck you in honey dukes, the three break sticks, closets, near the black lake, behind trees and bushes, his bed, your bed, his friends bed, shower, desks, professors desks, anywhere anytime.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Feminine clothing, something about it makes his head spin and he just loves fucking you in dresses. He also has a clothes kink, he’d love to fuck you in his clothes. Don’t even get him started on if you ever decide to wear sexual clothing, it’ll drive him crazy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Major dom and sub roles (like day to day life style) feels him out, he can’t distribute or give out rules, he doesn’t like that type of control over someone or giving someone that control of him. He likes some parts of d/s and he’d definitely be comfortable with some aspects, but not full on life changing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving oral sometimes, but he doesn’t expect it everytime. He loves giving, since he feels like it’s the only thing he’s good at. He’ll run his tongue and suck your sensitive flesh until he’s satisfied, giving you oral is more of a pleasure for himself.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Peter’s sex is soft yet rough, sometimes he just takes his time with dragging his cock deep inside of you and pulling it out. Others he just likes to bend you over and fuck you till your dumb. Sometimes he lacks compassion for how you’d take his cock, yet after he’s careful to check you over and soothe out any aches.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Only thing he looks forward to on school days. He’s already emotionally tired but getting a good fuck in a empty classroom or a bathroom stall always helps him get through the day, especially if you tell him you’d wait for him in his dorm later that night.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

It depends what the risk is, Peter likes to fuck you all over the place if he can. He definitely been given warnings by prefects way to many times.James and Sirius always say his animagi should be a bunny with all the fucking they catch you guys doing. Greatest risk he ever took was fucking you during a quidditch game behind the bleachers.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a couple of rounds, depending if it’s just oral or penetration. He can spend hours just focusing on you, exploring your body and roping out orgasm after orgasm.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely likes using a vibrator, dildos aren’t really his thing. He does have a few anal plugs, but he doesn’t use them as much as he would like too. He usually uses them for your pleasure, but he wouldn’t be opposed to having a cock ring on.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s actually a huge tease, he likes to place his hand on your thigh during class and just mindlessly rub his thumb right near your goods. He gives a dumb look like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but his smirk whenever he catches your heavy breaths are apparent he knows exactly what he’s doing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The whimpers are the best part, he rarely moans, just mumble’s of “oh fuck” and heavy breaths. Especially the early morning sex, because his sensitivity is heightened and he’s just making gurgled whined and deep groans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Honestly, he’d probably want to fuck you infront of his friends. Especially the days when they flirt or tease you, he’d just get this immediate thought to show them that he isn’t sharing you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I’d estimate a good 7-9 inches, the exact number isn’t known but all I can say is the girth is the best part.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s in and out, most months it’s normal for a teenage boy but other months he can go days without it, sometimes even weeks. But on the months he’s active, sex is a pretty regular thing everyday to day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Peter is nocturnal, so it rarely depends on what time of day you guys had sex. If it’s on the weekends during midday, he probably will take a nap until dinner. If it’s in the morning… I don’t even think he could stay awake long enough to finish. But late at night it’s a whole new thing, he would probably cuddle you for a few moments until he knew you were asleep and work on his assignments and homework.

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[hyunjilicious]

I just read what is and what should never be and it was PHENOMENAL! I love everything you write anyway so I was wondering if you could do a small one where Bucky is alone and depressed and he calls yn because he feels lost and she is just there for him? No worries if you can't! I love you anyway 💕

Omg!! You’re too sweet! I really wanted to do this one justice, but I suck at angst... I love you too!! and I’m sorry if this sucks!

Summary: after the events of Endgame, you and Bucky part ways. Even though you haven’t spoken in months, when he needs you, you’re there ANGST 2.2k

Warnings: overall angsty vibes. Sad Bucky. Idk depictions of depression I guess? shitty writing!

“You came” Bucky's surprised tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Before saying anything else, you shook your head in disbelief. From certain points of view, he looked exactly the same as when you last saw him months ago, but if you looked past his rugged exterior, it was very easy to tell something was truly eating away at his heart.

“Of course I came” you frowned, “You called me”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Bucky mumbled.

You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused by his statement, but decided to keep the tone of the conversation from going too dark too fast. “Shut up, Barnes” you scoffed, “Don’t even joke about that.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, but it was forced, you could easily tell he wasn’t truly being himself. “What’s up?”

Bucky took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to word his thoughts. When his eyes met yours he flinched, the pain clouding his otherwise bright blue eyes. He started with a long sigh and a shake of his head but then, cringed as he finally spoke up. “I need help”

His confession went directly to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Whatever it is, you got it, but what-”

“Nothing happened” Bucky stopped you, “I need help”

“I don’t understand”

“I need someone to-” he sighed, closing his eyes as his head fell forward in what could only be described as shame, “I need someone to talk to” and it was funny, considering he just walked out of his psychiatrist’s office. “Someone that’s not paid to listen to me” he added, “Someone who understands”

It was moments like these that you truly wished Steve was still here. Or Nat. Your best friends, yes, but they were the glue that held you all together, and now in their absence, you were all threatening to fall apart. 

But of course you’d be there for Bucky. Whatever he needed you were more than eager to provide, but at the same time, you were fully aware that your capabilities were limited. You didn’t lack the understanding or the experience, but you lacked the words. You had the sympathy, but not the advice he needed. But you were there. Like you have always been and always will be, so, that afternoon you ended up on his living room floor.

Surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol that had no effect on either of you whatsoever, you sat and listened to him rant his heart out until his throat couldn’t take it anymore. And then he broke down - completely. A full on mess, tears staining his cheeks as the temperature dropped in the room with every other pained groan he’d release. But he let it all out and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulder was unimaginable. There were too many things eating away at his heart, but the guilt was what kept him under its spell, what kept him up for the last months, what was physically destroying him.

“Y/n... “ he called for you, face hidden in his hands as he spoke, “I know you’re gonna say no, but-”

“No,” you stopped him, “Then don’t ask me”

“Please”

“No, Bucky” you sighed, grabbing his wrist so you could look him in the eyes, “If you already know it’s a bad idea, please don’t tell me because I’m afraid I’ll actually go through with it right now”

“But i can’t fucking sleep!” he cried out loud, falling back against the couch, arms propped up on his knees, “I keep having the same nightmares over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore”

“You don’t-” you took a deep breath, “You don’t want me to erase your mind, do you?”

The look in his eyes proved that that was exactly what he wanted. And the unshed tears that coated the otherwise pure and radiant blue of his eyes was almost enough to convince you.

“Please-” he begged, “I-”

“No, Buck” you shook your head and shuffled to face him properly, “As time passes, it’s only gonna get worse. The past will eventually catch up to you. You’ll want to know what you did”

He didn’t have it in him to fight you, so silence settled for a while. “You know sedatives don’t work on me?”

“I… never thought about it, but that makes sense”

Bucky gathered his lips into a tight line and nodded his head.

“Lady shrink isn’t of any help?” you asked.

“I have no clue what she’s doing” he shrugged, “Maybe it’s good in the long run, but fuck if I know how she expects me to make any kind of progress right now”

“You are, tho” you reassured him, “Making progress I mean”

“Am I?” Bucky laughed incredulously.

“Yes! You’re almost completely on your own feet. You really pushed through”

“Or maybe I’m just ignoring all of my problems”

“You just told me about them” you chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulders.

Hesitatingly at first, he eventually leaned in into your hold, allowing himself to completely fall against your chest. “I hate this”

“I think that’s a given” you laughed, curling your fingers around the roots of his way too short hair. “A wise man once said that whenever someone acts like they have their shit together, they’re either lying or delusional”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know” you confessed, “I saw that on the internet”

For the first time that night, you actually heard him laugh, and it sounded so good - it was short and weak, but it was sweet and honest. “That’s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it” Bucky said as he pushed himself up.

“I wish I could do more” you mumbled, “But I don’t know what, or how, but-”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that” you smiled.

He didn’t know that. He’d never stop thanking you for even the smallest gestures. The day where Bucky would understand that kindness, in some cases, is a given, was far away, but you had the patience and determination to work for it.

As you talked and talked, and the topic of conversation kept shifting from one area to the other, the sun set, night settling outside his small windows. It was time for you to leave, and you would’ve done it, had he asked you not to at the last second.

You had your shoes on and one hand on the door handle, when he stumbled over his words, obviously too shy to properly hold his ground. “Actually can you- can you-” he mumbled, pointing to his couch, “Can you stay here tonight?”

And of course you did. The night didn’t last much longer after that, with Bucky settling on the floor, only a blanket to keep him company, and you sprawled out on the couch as silence settled.

But your mind was too busy to drift off. You knew his’ was too, but decided to refrain from speaking up, hoping to let him fall asleep, even for a short while.

It was loud inside your head. You always promised yourself you’d never intrude on someone’s thoughts and read through them without their approval, but you physically felt Bucky radiate energy, and your mind just slipped. But then, your heart almost stopped.

You saw yourself. You saw yourself slapping him back in Wakanda when he decided to go under ice again, you saw yourself moving a car out of his way back in Bucharest, when you risked your life for his because you trusted Steve that much, and because you were that good of a friend. You saw yourself at Tony’s funeral, eyes shiny with tears and then felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hug yourself - and then realised it wasn’t your urge, it was Bucky’s. At this point, your heart beat so fast you were actually afraid he’d hear it. But when goosebumps appeared all over your skin, you realised he couldn’t hear you, that he was asleep and that the nightmares started materializing. 

What convinced you to act on it was the sudden jerk of his body and the way to fully tensed instantly after. So, unable to just sit and watch, you rolled over to the side and allowed your hand to fall by his temple, little specks of light rolling off the tips of your fingers as you forced the thoughts away. Seconds later, you saw him relax and shift around, gathering the blanket he laid on to his chest as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

His relaxed form and the steady pace of his breathing put a smile on your face. But you made the mistake of thinking this was a one time thing, however, before you realised, you found yourself leaning over him again, ushering yet another wave of nightmares away. And it kept being an ongoing process until the sun rose, and you cursed yourself as you did not get one second of shut eye. But it was worth it. The sight of him finally resting, knowing he spent his night in his happy place that you this time did not intrude on, made up for your tiredness. 

When Bucky drifted out of his deep sleep, you figured it was safe to relax too. But knowing that if you went to sleep right now you wouldn’t wake up until noon, you stood up, determined to give him the full best friend experience.

But all you found in his kitchen was a box of stale cereal, a soft cucumber and candy wrappers. Had he not looked so adorable sleeping shirtless and curled into a ball on the floor, you would have woken him up yelling. But instead, you decided to order some food, and the simple fact that the sound of the delivery guy ringing the doorbell didn’t wake him up, actually terrified you. With a life like yours, no one sleeps that deeply, but then there he was, snoring away the late hours of the morning. 

By the time he finally stirred awake, the food was already cold, and you were bored out of your mind. “What- what time is it?” he mumbled, voice rich with sleep.

“A little bit past 2” you yawned from your spot on the couch.

“2 pm?” Bucky huffed, sitting up in a hurry and rushing to grab his phone. “What the-” he turned to you confused, “It’s 2pm…”

“Yeah” you sighed, “And the food is cold”

“Food?” Bucky gawked, looking over at the small table by the window, “You got food?”

“You didn’t have any” you defended yourself. You wanted to scold him for not taking better care of himself, but he looked so homey and cozy and vulnerable, that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Eventually, you stood up and walked over to him. “I’ll let you eat, Buck, but I gotta go” you sighed, giving him a hug, “Got some stuff to do” you lied, by stuff meaning sleep, since you were exhausted.

“Yeah, of course” he mumbled in agreement, wrapping his arms around your frame, and bringing you closer. He sank his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to his chest for a moment longer than you would have considered friendly. But you didn’t complain, his hold was stern and loving, and you really needed that right now. “Thank you” Bucky added when he finally let you go. His right palm cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, awe and admiration in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank me for, Buck” you smiled, and then pulled away.

He silently watched you get ready to leave, following you around until you reached the door and turned around to say goodbye. And it was weird. Your heart boomed against your ribcage, and you didn’t have to read his thoughts to know he was feeling the same kind of nervous. And it may have been the one too many stories you read but you actually feared something was going to happen. Thankfully, it didn’t. Instead you shared another hug, and parted ways.

However, all you managed to do was reach the staircase before you heard his door open, followed by the sound of his bare feet sprinting down the hallway. “What are you-”

“Can you stay?” he asked, shaking from head to toe, “In New York I mean, can you please stay? Just a few more days”

“Well, I- yeah, I guess I can” you mumbled.

“I just, I need a few more days. You’re screwing my head back on, I just need you now. Steve is gone, and Sam is all the way in Louisiana and I hate phones and I-”

“Wow-” you laughed, “I’m not even the second choice, I’m the third?”

“Shut up, Y/n” Bucky frowned, “Stop being a smartass for a second”

“I’m sorry” you rolled your eyes, but he didn’t care.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky threw his arms around your shoulders and hugged you close, and you weren’t sure if the ‘I love you’ that echoed inside your mind had actually been spoken or just thought, but it was everything you never knew you needed.