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#there is no song where he needs to be doing that
sporelings-au · 1 day
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Swap AU where both Grian and Scar swap places
We have mayor Grian and Daddy Shrooms Scar.
The sporelings are normal children (or as normal as you can get in Minecraft). They also keep accidentally foiling Mr. Disney Villian Scar’s plans.
Scar was almost done in making and perfecting an elixir to turn anything in a 500km radius into mycelium but needed a rare plant. Said rare plant only blooms every 100 years, and during his disney villian song Ren proceeded to EAT it.
Mumbo is supposed to be a spy for Scar but is very bad at it. Grian and Doc already know but keep him around because he has that wet spoon energy.
I swapped em :D
mother and scar swapped roles
doc took on bdubs role as a sort of right hand man/body guard to mayor grian and mumbo took on doc's role in this swapped universe
the hep are now children of scar like how the sporelings are to mother
i suppose in swapped, scar is.... honestly mainly like how canon scar usually is but more malicious? Grian is the same as permit office grian now but he actually wants to do his job lol
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mother and father spore
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eumppattv · 2 days
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ only for you
ᝰ.ᐟ pairing: riize x reader! fluff and slight angst ₊⊹
ᥫ᭡。 sides riize only show to you, their love ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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𓍯𓂃 shotaro- his serious side
although shotaro can be pretty hard on the guys during practice, he usually reverts back to his smiley self almost instantly. his seriousness with you is a different kind, one that lingers. you’ll be at home, and find him working at his desk. he will talk to you about what he’s working on, what needs to be improved and so on. you love see him serious about his work, and also see him be serious when it comes to your relationship.
𓍯𓂃 eunseok- his jealous side
let’s be honest, eunseok is unpredictable. you never know which version of him you’re getting. still, he’s usually pretty calm and collected. that’s why him getting jealous is always a shock to you. his usual calm demeanor is replaced by his need to keep you to himself. you’ll be talking to a member, and all is well until you’re alone. that’s when he will confess he was jealous, a pout adorning his face.
𓍯𓂃 sungchan- his anxious side
sungchan is playful, carefree and relaxed. you often find yourself flustered by his words and actions, with his confidence being his best trait. although teasing you is his favorite pastime, sungchan also finds comfort in knowing he can share his fears with you, without judgement. with you he can let the mask he puts on go, even if it’s just for a couple minutes.
𓍯𓂃 wonbin- his romantic side
wonbin can be very shy at times. to others it seems that you aren’t even close, and they wonder how you make your relationship work. but really he is just private, and behind closed doors he is as romantic as they come. he will often buy you flowers, and organize date nights. he will write you letters, songs, and send you romantic messages every day. that’s how he shows his love for you.
𓍯𓂃 seunghan- his insecure side
it’s true that seunghan never misses an opportunity to tease you. plenty of “you like me so much huh” and “you think i’m so hot” have been exchanged. but what he doesn’t let others see is the moments where he doubts if you really do love him. when he doubts if he’s the right fit for you. really he is just scared that one day you won’t be around, so he will put so much pressure on himself to be perfect. in the end, he knows you accept his confidence and his moments of doubt.
𓍯𓂃 sohee- his quiet side
if there’s anyone who can brighten your mood, it’s sohee. his loud energetic personality can make anyone’s day. but with you he can relax, and not have to worry about being the mood maker. afternoons are spent laying down on your phones, not thinking about what to say or what to do. with you, sohee can bask in silence- no expectations, just peace. and although he can be shy with others, the silence he shares with you isn’t one of awkwardness, but of love.
𓍯𓂃 anton- his loud side
everyone knows anton as the soft speaker, always teasing him about it. while he always shows that side of him, with you it’s different. he’ll let himself get loud when he’s teasing you, or when you’re competing against each other- mario kart gets intense with him. he’ll also be loud when he’s calling out to you, whether it be at home or at an outing. he truly lets loose with you, showing you how much love he has for you.
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yoonivy · 2 days
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symptom of your touch.
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modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. But you… You were the only exception. Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.
warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.
author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!
word count. 7k+
--
It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night. 
But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.
“Where is he?”
Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”
You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand. 
To Aegon — where are you????
You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.
“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”
You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”
You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”
“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator. 
After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”
You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”
“That boy… I swear…” 
“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.
“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .
“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.
From Aegon — i’ll be back soon 😘 — just start without me
You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever. 
“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family. 
Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”
Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.
“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”
The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”
Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”
Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”
You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach. 
You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.
You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.
Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.
You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”
“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”
The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare. 
You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with. 
Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.
When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.
His first year away from home was good to him.
“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.
He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”
An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”
Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”
He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.
“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”
Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason. 
He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”
After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.
Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you. 
After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.
Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.
Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.
With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork. 
You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home. 
You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered. 
You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be. 
Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.
You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.
“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff. 
“I– alright…”
When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.
“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.
You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”
Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”
Your heart catches in your throat.
“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”
“I was drunk when I said that.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.
Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”
Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.
You should say no and go home. 
It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.
But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours. 
“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”
Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.
As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours. 
As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.
Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness. 
“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says. 
When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core. 
You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth. 
Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact. 
It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells…  you’re soaked.”
You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs. 
“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him. 
You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more. 
“Aemond, please…”
He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.” 
Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.
“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”
Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone. 
Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.
“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that. 
Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.
He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.
“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”
Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no. 
That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.
But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.
And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.
You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away. 
As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before. 
His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.
You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.
Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you. 
He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you. 
Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.
“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.
“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again. 
There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away. 
So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.
When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.
“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door. 
After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.
You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you. 
“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase. 
Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.
“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.
But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”
You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.
“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more. 
He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.
He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.
“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”
To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips. 
“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”
Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.
You’re greedy. So greedy. 
You love the way Aemond makes you feel.  
He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.
You revel in it. 
Greedy. Greedy. Greedy. 
“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”
Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.
You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry —  you don’t know why but that’s how you like it. 
(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)
At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second. 
Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.
Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again… 
It’s because it has been a week since he had you, so really, he is just making up for lost time.
--
You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning. 
Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.  
Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you. 
“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips. 
“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.
Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch. 
Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.
You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.
“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.
Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face. 
“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.
You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”
Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.
Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”
Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt. 
As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.
It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.
“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”
“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”
“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”
In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.
Aemond already knows who it is. 
It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.
Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother. 
“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.  
Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.
Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.
But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
--
Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles. 
He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen. 
When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him. 
He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.  
It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him. 
You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while. 
Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.
All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”
Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”
Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry. 
Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.
“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.
“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”
“And you think I want to know?”
“Just– tell me–”
“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known. 
Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger. 
“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.
Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.
Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”
You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”
Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.
And for the third time that summer, you crush Aemond’s heart beyond repair.
--
Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.  
Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her. 
He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to. 
It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago. 
But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young. 
Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.  
Rinse and repeat. 
The cycle will never end. 
Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority. 
Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings. 
But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen. 
“Hey, are you ready yet?”
Speak of the devil…
Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it. 
“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.
Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”
Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”
Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.
Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?” 
Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?
“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”
With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.” 
Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit. 
Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically. 
Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop. 
Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head. 
“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”
At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even. 
“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”
Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”
Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated. 
So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.
With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing. 
“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”
Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”
Once again alone in his room, Aemond lets out the ragged breath he had not known he was even holding. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead enough to hurt — but it's still not as bad as the squeezing of his heart.
--
It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there. 
When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them. 
Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.
Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.
That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.
So pretty, like a shining star.
So close, yet so out of reach.
Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder. 
With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.
With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.
As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.
In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,
You do?
Aegon nods. 
Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns. 
It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.
And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life. 
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. 
When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.
When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.
But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.
Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.
Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.
Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit. 
And Aemond? 
He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.
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kelin-is-writing · 2 days
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fwb!touya who despite your agreement on not necessarily having to stop seeing other peoples, has deleted the contacts of the two or three girls he used to occasionally hook up with, when you weren’t around, the moment you two had started your relationship and everytime he crosses paths with them at school he barely even acknowledges their existence. why? ohh that’s because the moment you, the girl he desires on a soul-type of level, has agreed to be in all this with him touya’s eyes haven’t been able to look away from you, not even for a split second.
fwb!touya who a mere call or text for you telling him how much you miss and want to see him, is enough to make him skip practices with his rock band only to run over to your place and spend time with you. be it doing homework, watching movies or those weird reality shows that secretly pique his interest, playing games that usually end up in heated makeout sessions, you putting on nail polish while he styles your hair, cooking together, napping together, having sex four or five times. just you two basically being all over each others at any given occasion. touya wanted you close to him as much as possible and he was going to have exactly that.
fwb!touya who keeps telling himself you two are just ‘friends with benefits’ but from time to time he finds himself playing the guitar, compose and writes songs while thinking about you. he would’ve never wanted to admit it, for the moment, but you’ve been his muse since the first day you guys meet and the major reason for it was your smile, your laugh, your voice… that beautiful spark in your eyes whenever you looked at him… it made his heart warm up and a pleasing emptiness take over his stomach… shit… this wasn’t good at all, he was going into a dangerous territory right there and it wasn’t supposed to happen.
fwb!touya who has never marked any girl he’s sleep with before nor has he ever permitted them to mark him, because he has never felt the need to do that with his past flings; yet it took only one week, three days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes and twenty-six seconds in your relationship to make him go around the campus proudly, a shit-eating grin on his face, with your glossy lipstick imprint onto the side of his neck right where everyone could see it while you walked around with his teethes’ mark on your neck; a statement dedicated to everybody in the school that told all of them he is yours and you are his.
fwb!touya who never holds back from showing off to everyone your close relationship. you could be talking to a classmate and he would walk up to you surrounding your waist with an arm, pulling you flush against his side, and ask genuinely curious and interested what you guys were talking about while leaning his cheek against your head as he hummed along to the explanation you gave him with that voice of yours that is as beautiful as you are, completely smitten and mesmerized. once you were talking with another classmate of yours, that was assigned as a committee with you for a school festival, about some preparations when he came up to you ignoring the other person’s presence and just fixing his intense gaze on you while asking if everything was alright and if you needed any help while delicately moving a strand of hair behind your ear and then rest it gently on the back of your head to let you know that it was fine to lean on him whenever things became too much.
fwb!touya who keeps telling you and himself that the two of you are just ‘friends with benefits’, but the way he fucks you, talks to you and overall treats you are far from being those of an actual ‘friends with benefits’ and he doesn’t notice until a random guy who’s a schoolmate of you two and fan of his band starts asking him about you, throws glances your way, tries (but fails) to flirt with you and touya is watching over you two seething as he smokes by the fences outside the school’s building, tomura being the one who makes him notices that he’s clenching his jaw so hard they can hear his teethes scratching together. it’s right then that he realizes that the reason he had suggested all that thing between you two wasn’t only because he was attracted to you, but because he has been in love with you the whole time since the start of your friendship.
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sugar-coat-it · 2 days
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Body piercer! Matty part three 
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Part 1, Part 2
I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps! 
Fem! Reader
Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)
WC: ~6.3k
—-------------------------------------
PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom
—-------------------------------------
Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.
 Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.
You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life. 
So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it. 
 When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?
Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks. 
A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least. 
“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes. 
“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”
“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”
“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”
Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise. 
“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”
“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.
“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.” 
You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you. 
“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”
The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get. 
—---------------------------------------------
Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.
Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue. 
“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze. 
You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.
Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.
“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone. 
You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.
“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick. 
“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”
Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.
Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.
As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes. 
The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.
“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push. 
Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style. 
“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.
Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit. 
The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off. 
“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.
“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie. 
“I-”
His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.
 You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes. 
Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.
The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs. 
“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched. 
His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend. 
Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.
Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy. 
“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly. 
“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.
Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins. 
“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe. 
You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.
 His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take. 
The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.
“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers. 
“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.
Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.
“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.
“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”
You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth. 
Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.
“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”
He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.
“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”
At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling. In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips. 
“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”
It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.
It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.
“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”
“Shit, me too angel, so close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally. 
It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort. 
“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities. 
Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath. 
“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are. 
He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground. 
“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.
“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek. 
You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts. 
“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.
“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position. 
You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.
Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so while looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver. 
“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.
You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first. 
After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world. 
—-----------------------------------------
SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee
The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”
I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually. 
This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!
Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3
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bombuni · 1 day
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contains: roommates!yungi x gn!reader, pre-poly (?), yes they r in love with u and each other yes they have no idea what to do about it
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“They’re gonna be so mad,”
Yunho turns to Mingi, who’s all too casually chewing on his sandwich you made him, with a swiftness that causes his neck to jolt. He purses his lips in frustration and furrows his brow so Mingi gets the message that his input is not needed.
Mingi keeps chewing and watching Yunho fumble with your now bleach stained shirt. Your favorite shirt, to be exact. All he’d done was put your laundry to wash and now he feels like disaster is imminent. He’s kneeling on the floor of your guys’ living room-on the patterned rug you bought-completely distraught and still in his pajamas. He’s been dealing with this predicament all morning, suffering by himself and trying like hell to get rid of the big, ugly thing. He’s starting to think it’s taunting him.
Yunho turns back to the shirt he’s flattened out on the floor, “What do I do?”
Mingi sits back on the couch and turns the TV on to his current watch, humming whatever song he heard on the radio as if his roommate isn’t 2 feet away and practically breaking down. Yunho runs his hands over the front of your shirt again, like he’s been doing for the past hour, as if that’ll make the giant mark disappear. The clock ticks and he’s all too aware of the time of your arrival slowly inching closer and closer.
Mingi internally giggles at Yunho’s disheveled hair, “Serves you right for touching their stuff,”
Yunho pouts from the floor, “I was trying to help them out!”
“So why didn’t you do my laundry too?”
Yunho pauses for a few seconds before turning to scoop your shirt up in his arms, carefully as if it’s not already tainted by himself, “You’re useless,” he stands up quickly and exasperated, turning back around with an accusing finger, “and you haven’t been working overtime. That’s why I didn’t do your laundry.”
“Hey!” Mingi pouts and stands with purpose, just as irritated as Yunho now. He wants to poke fun at Yunho some more, but he spies your lit hot buttered rum candle out of the corner of his eye. The one you lit this morning before you left for work so the house would smell nice for your roommates. He spies the neatly organized coat rack by the door, the one where he always haphazardly throws his jacket on but finds it neatly back in its designated spot the next morning. He spies the second wrapped sandwich left on the counter, the one you made specifically for him.
Yunho’s already gone into the kitchen to try, for the millionth time, to wash out the stain once Mingi’s had the little revelation that he’s so endeared by everything you do for them, or just you in general. He figures Yunho’s already realized this a while ago, based on his unrelenting efforts to save your favorite shirt. God, you haven’t even told them outright that it’s your favorite shirt but they both just know because of how often they see you wearing it. Mingi’s just thinking over every little detail about you he’s subconsciously stored in his brain, shelved right next to every little detail about Yunho.
He stands next to the brown-haired panicked man by the sink, now ready to double his efforts and put his all into saving your shirt. He starts scrubbing like the stain owes him money. He gets a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach now, standing next to a pleading Yunho and your material under his fingers. Mingi feels fully at home, servicing both of you, but he doesn’t want to unpack that now. Yunho feels a softness blooming in him, watching how focused Mingi is getting, and the softness grows until he feels like it’s going to burst out of him like the cotton fluff in a teddy bear. A knock on the front door takes him out of it.
They both look at each other with wide eyes, panic rising as the lock keeps clicking and the door creaks open. Yunho shakes the shirt wildly in a last, stupid attempt to magically get the stain off and Mingi bites his fingernails in anxiousness. Waiting, guiltily, to let you find them both like kids caught stealing out of the cookie jar.
“Hey,” your voice echoes in the kitchen as you casually walk in and unpack your lunchbox. It’s eerie because of the out of character silence. Usually you’re hounded by Yunho asking how your day was and Mingi complaining to you about whatever he wants to that day. They’re turned away from you, standing at the sink and fiddling with a cloth in their hands. The guilt is hanging in the air, almost contaminating you too. It’s so clearly written on Mingi’s pouting face every time he looks at you out of the corner of his eye and you don’t really have to wait to have your suspicions confirmed.
You lean on the counter and cross your arms, “Ok, what did you two do?”
They slowly turn to you, “Nothing, we ju-“
“Yunho got a bleach stain on your favorite shirt.”
You both look at Mingi, Yunho turning with a betrayed look on his face, “What? You shouldn’t have done their laundry without permission,”
You walk in between where they stand at the sink, taking the shirt into your hands and unfolding it until you spy the splotch. Yunho twirls his hands and watches you with puppy dog eyes, curling in on himself as if he’s preparing for a scolding. Mingi thinks he’s adorably pathetic, falling for his wide eyes even though they aren’t directed at him.
You hum and shrug, “I’ll just use this as a sleep shirt from now on.”
Yunho splutters and stands tall, offense overtaking his features and once again making Mingi the scapegoat to all of his problems, “You said they’d be totally mad at me!”
Mingi has a dumb smile on his face as Yunho keeps blabbering and smacking his side. You blow out the hot buttered rum candle on the counter, watching as the two keep battling and calling to you to ‘join their side.’ It turns out like always, with Yunho pinning Mingi to the couch and their ‘fight’ dissolving into soft giggles. It’s quiet for a moment as they catch their breath, before you come crashing onto Yunho’s back and forcing him to topple over Mingi. The room is loud again, filled with complaints and grumbling but none of you move. Mingi shifts so you’re both comfortably on top of him. His arms hardly fit around two bodies and Yunho’s practically falling off the edge of the couch but he’d rather die than purposefully leave the feeling of Mingi’s chest rising and falling under him, the feeling of your gentle hand running over the spots on his face. It’s another Thursday night in your crowded home and you can find love in every nook and cranny.
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bom note: love domesticity hope i can try it sometime
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penguinbuttcheeks · 2 days
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Three's a Crowd - ghost x reader
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summary: you’re the latest addition to the 141. price and gaz have each other, ghost and soap vice versa. you start to realise that you’ll never be able to gain the attention of your comrades - let alone your lieutenant - the way you so desperately crave.
pairing: ghost x gn!reader
cw: angst, typical cod violence, character death, mw3 spoilers
word count: 2,318
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A/N: feeling angsty so have this :D (FURTHER PROOFREADING IS NEEDED !!! but im eepy and impatient its 2am)
also i genuinely can't live without music, so i always end up adding a song that kinda reminds me of my fic. its not something that needs to be listened to - simply any song i find that kinda suits the vibe of the story and also just sharing some good music for others to enjoy !! idk, just something i enjoy doing (im rambling)
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Being the latest addition to the TaskForce 141's ensemble had its downfalls.
While you were immensely grateful for the opportunity to have been recruited by John Price himself, there was still the lingering discomfort of trying to fit in with a new group.
It was childish really. Such a minuscule concern whilst in the midst of fighting a war.
It had been several months since you were enlisted, yet your relationship amongst the four members seemed to lag in comparison to the camaraderie they each shared between one another. Years of companionship amidst the terrors of combat had strengthened the bindings of their connections, forcing them to rely on one another when faced with life and death. It was something that you had yet to experience with them.
You know that these things take time - especially given that fact that it was so common to lose comrades in this field of work. Everyone was terrified of getting attached. 
Over the coming days, the five of you had been preparing for an upcoming mission. It was crucial that everything panned out perfectly. Price wasn't leaving any room for fault, not when the safety of thousands were at stake. thousands of civilian lives. Men, women and children.
While Price and Gaz - with the assistance of Farah - had set out to Urzikstan to lead an infiltration on a Konni base they believed Makarov was operating at, you were assigned to Verdansk with Soap and Ghost. 
The task; stop Konni from destroying the Gora dam.
The three of you were currently grouped at the meeting point, scoping the area before setting off to defuse the bombs scattered across the site. With the little numbers you had, you were going to have to rely on stealth. You hated stealth.
Stealth required trust. Trust in your comrades to complete their designated tasks without fault, trust in your comrades to stay alert. 
You had none. 
You were determined to change that succeeding this mission.
"Be advised, Konni personnel are grouping near multiple locations below you." Laswell's voice snaps you from your thoughts, her voice ringing through the comms. 
Ghost and Soap look up at where you were perched. You were their sniper for this mission. They were relying on you to keep them covered and you were not going to let them down.
You raise your hand in the air, giving them a thumbs up to alert you were ready and in position. The two men send a curt nod in return before setting off to track down and defuse the explosives.
With Laswell over-watching the operation, and you giving the duo support from a higher vantage point, the low numbers were of little concern. The four of you knew that you would be able to carry out the mission smoothly. Besides, 
Failure wasn't an option.
You watch as Ghost silently takes out several guards, advancing his way through the facility as he tries to locate the bombs.
"Bagged 'em" Laswell confirms another kill for Ghost.
“Two guards, on your three by the barrels” you alert Ghost, watching as he stealthily approaches the guards. “I’m lined up, I can get them in one”.
They’re on the ground before Ghost can even blink.
You grin as you peer through the scope of your sniper. This was going to be cake.
“Good to see you in one piece, Johnny” Ghost huffs, splayed on the floor of the heli alongside you and Soap.
“Haven’t felt better, LT.”
It was a scramble trying to meet with Nikolai and board the aircraft, lifting off amidst the enemy's gunfire. You ensured there were no men left standing by the time you all were long out of sight. 
Price would be pleased. 
“Yeah, I’m okay too. Thanks for asking” you huff out in annoyance, watching as Ghost lends Soap a hand, lifting him to his feet with a small grunt. 
You get up by yourself, a simple side glance sent your way from Ghost before both the men turn to Nikolai. At least Soap had the decency to return a relieved smile.
“Mission accomplished, Bravo. You three took down an army and saved lives tonight” Laswell congratulates through the comms, her usual monotonous voice doing little to praise the successful operation that the three of you had completed. “Makarov will not take this well.”
“He’s a big boy,” you respond with an amused grin. “He can handle it.”
“Don’t underestimate the rage of the Russian’s” Nikolai chuckles back in response, looking back at you momentarily to ensure all three of you weren’t seriously injured.
“Speakin’ from experience, Nikolai?” You smirk back, walking over towards the front of the heli where both Ghost and Soap stand, your sniper left discarded on the metal floor of the military carrier.
“Firsthand” Nikolai simply snorts back.
The rest of the ride back is silent, Ghost and Soap sat beside each other, a singular empty seat distancing their proximity. You? You sit across from them, alone on the empty bench. 
You don’t mean to let your guard down. You were simply exhausted and finally allowing yourself to stare aimlessly into space as the adrenaline in your system slowly drained from your veins.
“Don’t.”
The harsh voice has you crashing back to reality, eyes focusing in place to meet dark hazel ones, narrowed and directed at you. You hadn’t realised you were staring at Ghost while you silently decompressed. It was a rude startle from your meaningless thoughts.
“Sorry, I zoned out. My eyes were just comfortable” you respond awkwardly, adjusting your seating position and clearing your throat. “Didn’t realise I was staring”
Ghost simply glares back at you, his usual cold and emotionless stare making your hands clammy and stomach flutter. You quickly avert your gaze, turning your head away to stare at the metal tread plate flooring, instead focusing on the loud hum of the aircraft you were all seated in.
It suddenly grew too hot, too cramped in the helicopter. It was claustrophobic - suffocating almost.
You’re the first to scramble off the heli, exhaling in relief when you’re no longer boxed into the hunk of metal you had just spent the last hour travelling in. With your sniper draped loosely over your shoulder, you make your way inside the small safe house nestled on the outskirts of Verdansk. You don’t bother to wait for Soap and Ghost.
It’s late at night. Your body is near spent. Your only goal in mind was getting the heavy military gear off your body to finally allow yourself the comfort you crave. 
It’s a small shack, only the bare minimum provided. An old, tattered couch and rickety square dining table with four chairs on each side, each varying in design and wood finishes. They evidently didn’t come as a set. There is a small room off to the side, various camping cots packed and stacked against the furthest wall, at our disposal for when we choose to retire for the night.
Ghost, Soap and Nikolai soon enter after you, Nikolai retreating into the small room to set up the cots and get some much needed rest.
You keep to yourself while Soap settles on the small couch, Ghost taking a seat at the dining table to clean and check over his equipment. 
You hastily peel the stiff fabric from your body, vest and outerwear folded on the floor in the corner of the living room, your sniper. Resting atop of them. Your aching body can finally breathe now that the extra layers were finally discarded
“Ye did good today” Soap finally speaks up after a beat of tense silence. You turn to him in slight surprise, not expecting him to initiate any sort of conversation with you. “We’d have been fucked without ye” he continues, Scottish accent thick as ever.
You can’t help the small smile that creeps on to your face.
“You guys did the dirty work. I simply scoped the area from above” you assure modestly, not wanting to come across arrogant.
“Aye. Saved our asses several times. We owe you.”
Ghost simply scoffs quietly, standing to move outside where there would be less chatter. He was tired and didn’t want to indulge. 
Your smile is wiped from your lips, replaced by a slight frown at Ghost’s exit. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the Scot.
“He’s a crabbit old man. Pay him no mind” Soap assures you, voice low and seemingly unaffected by the Lieutenant’s departure. “The lad’s not one for meaningless blether.”
You nod, evidently disappointed
Soap observes you silently, taking in your defeated expression, a low hum of acknowledgment absentmindedly leaving his tight lips.
"Ye like the Lieutenant" he voices aloud. There was no room for argument in his statement.
Your head darts to Soap in stunned horror, mouth parted in shock. You're unable to respond, Soap speaking up before you're able to form your words.
"Keen een."
You immediately shut your mouth. There was no point in arguing. He knew.
Soap chuckles, a bitter and amused sound that leaves you feeling uneasy.
"Foolhardy choice"
You watch as Soap leaves to the makeshift bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts and anxieties. You don't get much sleep that night.
Returning to the 141 base was a relief in itself.
Touching down on British soil allowed you to finally relax. You were finally familiar with your surroundings once again.
You sigh happily upon entering your private quarters, throwing your bag carelessly to the ground. A shower was in order. You waste no time in stripping down bare to prepare yourself for the best shower of your life.
When you emerge from the shower, hair still damp and leaving small patches of dampness along the fabric of your fresh shirt you immediately make your way to the rec room. Some caffeine was in order if you were going to set your sleep schedule back to its usual.
You inhale sharply when you see Ghost sat alone, immediately on edge.
He turns his attention to you momentarily before wordlessly resuming back to the reports in his hands.
Message received.
You quietly walk over to the coffee machine, pulling out a mug as you put the kettle on.
You keep your eyes trained on anything but Ghost, not wanting to anger him again. You can't help but lose yourself in your thoughts once again as you wait for the water to finish boiling.
It wasn't anything more than a physical attraction that you had towards the aloof man. You didn't know the slightest thing about him. You did know however, that he was loyal. Just from your observations alone - it was obvious just how passionate he was about the 141. He would lay his life down without a second thought to ensure a mission was successful, to ensure his teammates were safe.
All of his teammates, save for you.
He was a machine during training, a monster on the field. Rippling muscle and deadly speed, accuracy that rivals even Captain Price himself.
So many times you've caught yourself staring, admiring from the peripherals of your vision with your lip caught between your teeth. You felt like a lovesick teen in high school. It was absolutely infuriating.
"It won't make itself"
You jolt in alarm, head whipping towards the voice. Ghost simply stares at you, eyebrow raised. His skull mask was replaced by his usual black balaclava he wore around base, the prominent shape of his brow bones underneath the knit fabric the only giveaway of his expression. His thick thighs are spread lazily in front of him, large feet planted on the floor as he leans back against the dark leather couch, papers still in hand.
You quickly tear your eyes away from him once again.
"I know." You internally grimace at your response. Stupid. So stupid.
Ghost chuckles, still eyeing you as you stare dumbly down at the now finished boiling kettle and empty mug.
"You're an open book" he speaks up, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, lowering his eyes back down to his reports. "You need to keep your head in the game, sergeant. This is a war, not a dating reality."
You glimpse over at him from the corner of your eye, fighting down the heat that tries to spread across your face.
"I'm well aware of that" you respond sternly, hastily making your coffee.
Fucking. Soap.
"Start acting like it, soldier"
You swiftly leave, coffee rushed and head lowered in shame. You didn't bother drinking the sloppy coffee, instead tipping it down the bathroom sink and watching as it swirls down the drain.
Makarov was defeated - the 141 finally accomplishing what they had chased like hell hounds for months - finally at its end.
Ghost stares down at your lifeless eyes.
What should have been Soap’s life was instead replaced with your own.
It was a selfless act of bravery.
No one was fast enough to respond. One minute you were here, yelling out to Soap in alarm, the next you were motionless. An instant death after Makarov lodged his final bullet in your skull.
Ghost knows that he should feel something - anything for the life lost. His teammate stolen from life too soon, but he can't find it in himself to care.
Price places a large hand on Ghost's shoulder, pulling him away from the scene.
The Taskforce retreats. They would send reinforcements to retrieve your body, to be able to send something back to your loved ones waiting anxiously on your return.
It was a shame really. The potential you had was evident, destined to continue fighting for your country alongside Ghost, Price and Gaz.
Ghost turns on his heel, following after his comrades and boarding the heli, your empty seat bringing a deep sense of impending doom, the reality finally setting in for the four men.
Ghost scoffs, shaking his head.
Three was always a crowd
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woozivrse · 2 days
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sniff kiss: seungcheol, jun, mingyu, seungkwan, vernon
this one needs a lil explaining bc it's not super common? but it's just someone smelling you(usually into the top of your head or like your cheek) and it's done in like primarily south east asian cultures i believe?
but like this is really, really indulgent of me but i grew up with my mom and aunts kissing me like this so it feels so??? loving?? and nostalgic to me?? like, it feels like a warm hug and i get transported to being a kid again. it's like being protected, knowing no matter what, there's someone there who will help pick you up and support you.
kiss on the knuckles: joshua, wonwoo, minghao
you two are probably holding hands, maybe walking around somewhere or just sitting down across from each other. either way he can't just kiss you without causing a disturbance(stopping in the middle of the sidewalk) or getting up from his chair, so he kisses your knuckles. this feels like a royal romance movie, the prince is looking at their beloved and they kiss their knuckles without breaking eye contact. he probably does this to see you get shy and you know he does it because you're just so cute when you try to hide your face from him.
kiss on the cheek: jeonghan, soonyoung, jihoon, seokmin, chan
it's quick, these men are busy but they want to show you their love. they're maybe just about to leave but they want to say bye without waking you, or they're taking a break from whatever they're doing and just wanna kiss you quickly so you know they're thinking about you. or, he wants to show you his love and he's peppering kissing across your face, and this is where he starts. either way, it's full of love and adoration, saying “i love you” without the words.
happy svt comeback to those who celebrate :) i had this idea for a lil but i decided to finish it for the comeback! cheers to youth is prob my fav of the new songs but lalali and spell are so good...
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onelonelysaiyan · 19 hours
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Hazbin Hotel Adam Relationship Headcanons
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Fairly gn, i tried my best! This is kind of my starting point for getting back into writing, let me know what you guys think! <3
-DAD BOD!!!!! You CANNOT change my mind on this 
-Hairy arms, legs, a little on his chest, has a really nice happy trail 
-Strong arms, good at cuddling  
-Uses wings a lot in his body language 
-Enjoys when you preen his wings, makes him feel loved 
-Tries to be less rude and mean when talking to you 
-LOTS of petnames; Angel, babe, baby, mommy/daddy, sugartits, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, dollface, wifey/husband
-Super clingy, like, to an obsessive extent sometimes. Will get upset if you’re not spending enough time (in other words, all of your time) with him. Calls you all day if you’re apart, will text if you tell him to stop calling. Has to know where you are, who you’re with, if you’re safe. Has absolutely spied on you before, and has made poor Lute follow you around on numerous occasions. He just wants to make sure you’re alright!  
-Big Baby. He’s so whiny and needy, please coddle him. Not in public, but like when you’re alone just hold him and run your fingers through his hair. Kiss his forehead. Hold his hands. Let him rest his head on your chest, he needs it 
-PDA is his thing, but in general his love language is touch so expect lots of physical contact ALL the time unless you just really don’t like that kind of thing 
-Absolute tease, doesn’t matter where you are. Love to rile you up even if he’s not looking for anything to happen afterward. Just likes seeing your red face 
-Will talk to/at you for HOURS, about literally anything and everything. Like please, babe, just shut up for like, five seconds? 
-KISS HIM WHEN HE’S RAMBLING. Shut this asshole up with the sweetest way you know, he’ll fall for you all over again 
-Honestly just kiss him, any time will do. Might act a little upset if he’s in the middle of a sentence but he loves it, please kiss him more 
-Likes to spend the rare day off by laying in bed with you and just holding you, all lazy kisses and gently roaming hands while you lay on his chest 
-Give him chest kisses!!! Especially over his heart, practically melts when you do, it’s just so sweet and intimate to him and he feels so loved when you do 
-Loves to play with your hair, long or short. Sometimes tangles it on accident, but he’s willing to brush it back out for you if you’ll let him 
-Will just stare at you sometimes, he’s so in love. He wants to make sure he commits every detail of your beauty to memory, even if he’s already done so numerous times before. 
-Will absolutely adore it if you train with him and his exorcists, even if you can’t always keep up. You’re trying and it’s cute as hell 
-Will brag about you to anyone and everyone. Can be rather inappropriate about it, but he really can’t help it! He wants everyone to know how perfect you are and how you chose him out of everyone.
-Possessive, can’t stand seeing others trying to flirt with you. He understands why they would, after all, you’re the hottest being in Heaven! Who wouldn’t want you? But he still doesn’t appreciate it. Will march up to you and the other person before wrapping his arms around you and fluffing out his wings to make himself seem bigger (which really isn’t necessary, the man’s an absolute GIANT already...) 
-Speaking of being a giant, this man loves to engulf you with his body. He’s just so big that no matter what size you are he practically swallows you whole when he holds you. Thinks it’s super cute how small you are compared to him 
-Plays his guitar for you a lot, loves to sing for you too. Will make you attend band practice to get your approval of new songs and honestly just so he can see you while he plays. Gives him an ego boost to see you cheering him on both in practice and at shows and he’s certain he sounds better when he knows you’re there watching
I've got a fair few NSFW headcanons too so let me know if that's something y'all would be interested in!
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Jerboa Mikey Way based on this post and an Instagram post under cut
Video ID: An Instagram reel posted by user jerboaworshippers featuring a still stock image of a jerboa. The song Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace plays in the background. When opening up the comment section, there is a comment from user rata_dealcantariya that says "MIKEY WAY?!?" in all caps. The original poster jerboaworshippers responded asking "WHERE" in all caps. User rata_dealcantariya replies asking "Ain't that Mikey way?". User jerboaworshippers asks "THE JERBOA??" in all caps. User rata_dealcantariya says "What jerboa? I just see Mikey way 😳🤯". User jerboaworshippers says "alright vro youre going on the tickle list 😡 you scared me 'cause i thought you meant he liked the post or something". User rata_dealcantariya ends the conversation with "Not the tickle list😞💔". End ID
Note from me: this is my first time doing a video ID, I hope I did alright. Let me know if I need to alter/change anything :')
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hihomeghere · 23 hours
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Blue Ain’t Your Color | Arthur Morgan / Reader
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Word count : 3k Warnings/tags: Alcohol, consuming alcohol, bar setting, talk of manipulative exes, kissing, cursing, bachelor/bachelorette party, talk of infidelity, Modern!AU Summary : Loosely based on the song, Blue Ain't Your Color. After a rough breakup you force yourself to go to your best friend’s joint bachelor/bachelorette party. Knowing that a certain best man will be there.
As the hours ticked closer to 5pm, you wondered how rude it would be to flake out on your best friends' bachelorette party. It wasn’t like she’d be alone, after sharing a friend group for so long it was only natural to have a combined bachelor and bachelorette party. And for as long as John and Abigail were together your little group felt more like family than friends.
Your phone buzzed next to you, a telltale sign of a text. Most likely from your asshole ex.
Fuck it. You picked it up, turning it towards your face. Abigail’s name popped up instead of his as a welcomed surprise.
‘You have about thirty more minutes to sulk before you better get your ass down here.’ You snorted at her message, rolling your eyes.
‘I was not sulking🙄’ You texted back, caught red handed by her unreasonable psychic senses.
‘I know you.’ She messaged, before the three little dots pop up again. ‘He wasn’t even hot, you were doing charity work.’ You laughed shaking your head, the first real smile gracing your face for the first time in two weeks.
‘True.’ You text back, sighing as you pull yourself off of your couch. ‘I’ll see you in 20😘’
It’s just one night, one night where you end your pity party. Abigail’s right, he wasn’t even that hot, and an awful kisser to boot. You needed to put your feelings aside and be there for your best friend.
You knew you’d had fun, all your girls would be there, and there would be karaoke. You knew you’d be heartbroken if you missed Sean and Lenny’s rendition of Don’t go breaking my heart. You applied your makeup, making sure to look killer in all the photos that would inevitably end up on social media. It was the best revenge for him sleeping with his girl ‘best friend’, to show him what he’s missing. And if you happened to look good for another certain man, well that was just a bonus.
Throwing on your best little black dress, you admired how it hugged your curves. Checking your makeup and hair one more time before heading out the door for your Uber.
It wasn’t long until you pulled up at the Horseshoe Overlook, the place to be on a Friday night. You could see Javier in front of the entrance, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Ay! There she is!” He exclaimed as you stepped out of your Uber, grinning as he walked over to you pulling you into a hug.
“Hey Javi.” You chuckled, “Everyone else inside?” You asked as he pulled away, sparks falling to the ground as he tapped his cigarette.
“You know it.” He grinned, motioning inside with a tilt of his head. You took a deep breath before pushing open the doors, the smell of alcohol and fried food filling your nostrils. It didn’t take you long to find the rambunctious group of assholes you called your best friends.
You could already see Sadie on Charles shoulders, waving at you with a huge grin on her face. Abigail immediately threw her arms around you.
“You done sulking?” she laughed, pressing a shot into your hand. You threw it back, a shiver running through you as the alcohol ran down your throat.
“I’m working on it.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s kind of hard to be sad around y'all." You smiled, looking around at your friends. Your eyes seemed to find- well not find- the man you had hoped to see tonight. The best man.
“Arthur’s not here yet if you’re wondering.” Abigail whispered, a mischievous glint in her bright blue eyes.
“I wasn’t looking for him.” You said, rolling your eyes, lying through your teeth.
“Well in case you were wondering,” She started, her hand wrapping around your waist as she pulled you close. “He’s single.” You furrowed your brows, your head snapping to look at her. Ever since you could remember Arthur had been stuck on this one girl, Mary. They had the absolute worst on and off again relationship you’d ever seen. Honestly it was painful to watch at points, and let’s just say she didn’t get along with most of the group.
“I’m not looking to be a rebound, thank you very much.” You said, trying to stay as nonchalant as possible. Of course, Abigail saw straight through your facade, but she didn’t push it.
“Alright honey, whatever you say.” She cooed, fixing her ‘bride’ sash before going off to find John. The bright neon blue lights illuminating the low lit bar. You snuck away from the festivities, making your way to the bar and setting yourself on an open stool. Flagging down one of the bartenders for a drink. Maybe you’d drown your sorrows a bit before getting back to the party. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking twice about it, you pulled it out checking the notification. Your smile fell off your face as you read the latest test from your ex. Who was apparently working on the new record of how many times someone could say they’ve ‘changed’ in a day.
You groaned, laying your phone face down on the bar top. Thankful for the vodka cran placed in front of you. Even though it was cheaper to drink away your sorrows at home, it never tasted quite as good. You slowly sipped your drink, watching the white cubes slowly get more transparent in the red liquid.
“You gonna drink it or just watch the ice melt?” A deep rumbling voice asked, as no one other than human sunshine Arthur Morgan pulled up next to you. The man who had been strictly off limits for years now dangled in front of you on a hook. His hands were stained as he laid them on the bar top, no doubt from the various vehicles he’d worked on all day.
“Still debating.” You sighed, offering him a small smile.
“Rough day?” He asked, his flannel rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tanned forearms.
“More like week.” You said with a weak chuckle, your cheeks already heating up with the hunk of a man next to you. How Arthur and John were brothers you had no idea. They were near opposites of each other. Let’s just say, you and Abigail never had to worry about fighting over boys. Arthur slipped off his cap, pushing his honey blond locks back with his calloused hand before setting his hat back on his head. His bright azure eyes scanned the bar even though you knew he would buy the same drink as always.
“Yeah,” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah I get that.” He said, calling the bartender over with a raise of his finger.
You sipped your drink, squeezing the lime before placing it back on the rim. Cooling the rising heat in your cheeks as Arthur moved closer to you. A deep rumbling laugh left his lips as you turned to see what was causing him so much joy. You saw Sean hoist Lenny onto his shoulders, nearly falling over with the weight of him. If they weren’t careful they’d get kicked out again.
He turned his rosy cheeked face towards you, eyeing you with a questioning look. “So,” He said, raising his bourbon to his lips, “Where’s what’s his face?”
You chuckled dryly, shaking your head. “Probably chasing after anything with a pair of tits.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, taking a long sip of your drink.
“That’s a shame.” He whistled, although from the tone in his voice you can tell it’s anything but a shame. You shrug, looking back towards the rest of the group.
“Not really, none of you guys liked him much anyway.” You said twirling your straw around in your drink, a deep frown etched on your face.
“Yeah, but you liked him.” He said, nudging your shoulder, offering you a sad smile. If anyone knew how you felt it would be Arthur. Mary wasn’t exactly popular with your group of friends either.
As much as you hated to admit it, you did like him. Maybe that’s the problem, no matter how much everyone said he didn’t deserve you, he still broke your heart.
“I know it ain’t my place,” He starts, holding up his hand, “But blue ain’t your color.” He said, wetting his lips before bringing his glass up. The corner of your mouth tugged upwards, as you looked at him from the corner of your eye. “There she is.” He said with a smile.
If it was anyone else talking to you this way, you’d think they were flirting with you. Maybe you were just hoping that the same could be said for Arthur. But you knew it wasn’t likely, Arthur wasn’t the type of guy to pick up some random girl from a bar and take her home. Maybe in his younger years, when Mary and him had called it quits for the umpteenth time, but not now. Then again, you weren’t some random girl.
“That was incredibly cheesy.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes, a smile growing on your lips.
Being around Arthur was like having your own personal bit of sunlight, he exuded warmth, brightening up any room. You on the other hand could practically hear the thunder rolling from the clouds that hung over your head. Why he had decided to sit with you, you didn’t know. Other than the fact that he was just a good guy.
“So, I heard about you and Mary.” You said, clearing your throat, looking up at him. He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck, a shadow passing across his face.
“You and the whole town.” He sighed, bringing his glass to his lips, sucking in a breath as it ran down his throat. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink.
“It won’t be long until y'all are back together anyway.” You said, twirling your straw around in your drink, biting your lip as you looked down.
“No.” He said, shaking his head, "She's- well she’s moved on, think I should too.” He nodded, a light blush coloring his cheeks.
“And here everyone thought you were gonna get married next.” You said nudging his elbow, trying to hide your jealous tone.
“Me?” He asked, his head snapping to look at you, a bewildered look on his face. “No way, not to her at least.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Her and I, well we didn’t agree on most things. A marriage between us would have been doomed from the start. But uh, we probably shouldn’t be talking about doomed marriages, bad luck and all.” He said with a toothy grin.
“Didn’t know you were superstitious.” You smiled.
“Well it’s not every day your little brother finds someone stupid enough to marry him.” He teased, although you could hear a hint of truth in his tone.
“Well Abigail is pretty taken by him.” You chuckled, looking over at the two of them.
“Yeah, they’re good for each other. She keeps him in line.” He nodded, finishing his drink before setting it down on the bar top.
“Happy to pass your job off?” You asked with a smirk.
“John hasn’t listened to me in years.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Other than Abigail, Dutch is the only person he listens to.” You smiled, watching the rest of your friends pair off and hit the dance floor. Your heart slowly sunk into your stomach.
“Hey.” He said, giving you a lopsided smile, “Could this old fool have a dance?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take.
“You ain’t that old.” You laughed taking his hand, butterflies erupting in your stomach. His calloused hand was surprisingly warm and gentle as he held yours. He pulled you off of your stool, leading you onto the dance floor.
“Atta girl Y/n!” Karen called from the sideline, holding up a very intoxicated Sean. You were thankful for the low lights, knowing you were red as a tomato. Your cheeks burning as Arthur turned to face you.
“Hey,” His finger lifted your chin, “eyes on me, alright?” He grinned, you wondered if you had imagined the slight waver in his voice. You nodded, swallowing thickly as another song started to play. One his hands holding your hip while the other clasped your own. You looked over at the other couples, your foot landing on top of Arthur’s boot.
“Sorry!” You whispered, wincing. He chuckled, shaking his head.
“That was nothin’.” He grinned, twirling you in a gentle circle.
“I’m not the best dancer.” You admitted, chucking weakly as you looked down at your feet.
“Oh c’mon now,” He said pulling you closer, his hand on the small of your back, “You’re not so bad.” He spun you around on the wooden dance floor, his eyes sparkling under the disco ball. “You just gotta let me lead.”
It was getting harder with every passing moment to fight your feelings from bubbling over. He was so handsome, the sweetest guy in the whole world. More importantly he was your friend, not just because he wanted to get in your pants, but because he cared. It didn’t hurt that he was a fantastic dancer, too.
“Used to see you out dancin’ every weekend with the girls.” He said softly. That had been right before you got together with your ex. He didn’t like dancing and he didn’t want you going out if he couldn’t go with you. It was controlling in hindsight, but at the time you had on your rose colored glasses.
“Guess I’m not as good as I used to be.” You chuckled, a nervous grin tugging at your lips.
“That’s alright, darlin’.” He said softly, his hand moving to between your shoulder blades as he dipped you. You held onto his shoulder, his hand sliding down your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat. “You just need to practice.” He whispered before pulling you back onto your feet. Your breaths mingled, your chest brushing against his with every inhale.
His eyes moved from yours to your lips. His words ringing out in your head. Think I should move on too. He leaned down, his nose brushing against yours as he captured your lips. Before you know what you’re doing you’re pushing him off. Running across the dance floor and out into the parking lot, like the clock had struck midnight. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you held onto your forearms. The cool night air biting your nose and cheeks.
You wouldn’t be a rebound. You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t when you’ve been in love with Arthur for a lot longer than you’d like to admit.
“Y/n!” He calls from the entrance, striding over to you. His eyes almost frantic and his mouth set in a thin line. “I’m sorry, alright?”
“It’s fine Arthur.” You said shaking your head, looking down.
“No, no it’s not you just- you just got out of a relationship and-“ He lets out a frustrated groan as he runs his hand through his hair. His other hand crushing his hat in his fist. “I was outta line.” He said, his gaze falling to the ground as he hung his head.
“I just- I can’t be a rebound Arthur.” You said, shaking your head as you looked up at him.
“A what?” He asked, his brows furrowed as he met your gaze. “Is that what you think this is?” He scoffed, looking down.
“If that’s not what this is then what is it?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you crossed your arms. He sighed, meeting your eyes. He looked wrecked, his chest heaving as he chewed his lower lip.
“I-“ he sighed, putting his hat back on. “I like you y/n, a lot.” He confessed, his hands resting on his hips. “More than I should.” He said mostly to himself as he shook his head.
“But Mary-“
“Mary and I have been done for months.” He said cutting you off. “We were both stringing each other along even though we didn’t love each other.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “We both… well we both had feelings for other people.” He admits, his eyes holding a sort of desperation. Like he was silently pleading you to believe him. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “When I heard you were single I didn’t want to miss my chance.” He sighed.
Your mouth hung open like a dead fish, not the most attractive thing after someone just confessed they had feelings for you. “I-“
“Don’t feel like you gotta say nothin’.” He said, holding his hand up. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way.” He said, pursing his lips. You shook your head, rushing over to him and slamming your lips against his. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands immediately found your waist, holding you against the hard line of his body.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” You asked breathlessly, a grin spreading across your face. He blinked, the gears slowly turning in his head.
“Why didn’t you?” He asked with an equally breathless chuckle, his thumbs rubbing against your hips. You shook your head, grinning as you rested your forehead against his.
“Didn’t think you liked me like that.” You admitted, your cheeks flushed, the cold chill nipping your nose.
“I’d be a fool not to.” He laughed, cupping your cheek. He brought your chin up, pressing his lips against yours in a sweet embrace. Your toes nearly curling in your shoes. “Although, you do need some more practice with your dancin’.” He teased, “Maybe I could take you out sometime?”
“I’d like that.” You nodded, pressing your lips against his again. Arthur’s lips were more intoxicating than anything you could have ordered inside.
“You know we’re never gonna hear the end of it when we walk back in there.” You chuckled looking up at him.
“They’re probably too drunk to notice,” He mused, “besides, I want everyone to know that smile on your lips is cause of me.” He said throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he kissed your head.
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devilevlls · 2 days
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Creepy Obey me! AU
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𝖲𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌: 𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌, 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. Remember: The following information might not be that accurate comparing to Lucifer's canon personality.
Lucifer
⌞Feeding Habits⌝
  ࿔ Carnivorous (meat-eating)
  ࿔ Hunting habits: Lucifer harbors a distaste for the act of hunting souls directly. Instead, he frequents a secluded area in Devildom where lost souls wander, offering a more palatable source for consumption.
However, when it comes to acquiring meat, his approach takes a stark turn. He revels in the thrill of stalking his prey from a distance. The panicked screams only serve to heighten his excitement, igniting a primal thrill within him as he closes in on his target. ㅤ
⌞Unique features⌝
 ࿔ Two pairs of black feathered wings, some says they can cure wounds, but no one was brave enough to try plucking a feather.
 ࿔ Specific scent: He emits a natural scent reminiscent of roaring flames, so potent that it can induce discomfort and even prompt coughing fits. ࿔  Height: 1,97 cm ㅤ
⌞Reproductive Habits, Seasonal Changes⌝
  ࿔ Mating seasons: Courtship displays - Lucifer's devotion to his mate knows no bounds, often manifesting in grand gestures and displays of affection. However, don't be too quick to celebrate, for alongside his demonstrations of love, you may find an unexpected presence creeping into your surroundings. Ghostly apparitions, once mortal souls he dispatched, now transformed into loyal servants, subtly assist you with your daily tasks, a testament to his unwavering commitment to your well-being.
  ࿔ Nest building - He leaves a whole mess of feathers scattered across his bed, evidence of his restless nature and feral instincts. Some of them bear traces of blood, torn impatiently from his own wings in moments of unchecked impulse. Afterward, he may find himself sore and in need of assistance, perhaps even seeking your help to tend to the wounds inflicted by his own fervor.  ࿔ Seasonal variations: Aggressive Behavior - He won't let his brothers come closer to you until his breeding instincts are gone. They won't try either, none of them wants to be hanged from the ceiling for weeks. Scent Marking - Brushes his feathers against you, imparting a subtle scent that escapes human detection but leaves you enveloped in a warm, weighty sensation. Alternatively, he may press his face into your neck, tracing gentle licks along your skin. As he marks you with his presence, you notice a distinct shift in the demeanor of other demons, since no one wants to defy Lucifer himself by getting too close. ㅤAnd of course, an intense craving to ravage you at least 3 times a day. ㅤ
⌞Territorial Behavior⌝
࿔ Aggressive displays/Territory defense: Lucifer wanders around the house when he has free time. Not just casually walking tho, he makes guttural sounds and stomps heavily. No one dares getting out of their room when he is passing the corridor. ㅤ
⌞Sleeping and Resting Patterns⌝
You see, there isn't Day/Night in devildom, just emptiness and darkness, so we are using as reference, RAD's daily activities to measure time. Class time being the morning, class end being twilight and after dinner being night.
 ࿔  Nocturnal (active during the night). The avatar of pride hates waking up early in the morning, he gets more active at night, and you can see a slight change in his behavior at this time, getting more chill than normally. ㅤ
⌞Bad/Creepy habits⌝
  ࿔ Lucifer loves classical music, especially cursed records. Do not dare come close to the music room when his songs start playing, or you might end up piercing your own eardrums, trapped in an unstoppable curse. ㅤ
⌞Defense Mechanisms⌝
  ࿔ Lucifer has the power to hear through walls and can teleport behind someone if they say his name out loud to check why he is being mentioned.
  ࿔ Possesses a remarkable immunity to the majority of poisonous substances found within Devildom. Similarly, he remains largely unfazed by the powers wielded by angels. Only the most ancient and powerful curses have any hope of affecting him. ㅤ
⌞Hygiene and Grooming⌝
 ࿔ Self-grooming: Grooming, or preening, is the meticulous art of cleaning and maintaining various parts of the body. Lucifer, in particular, dedicates himself to keeping his feathers impeccable, adhering to a strict schedule of cleaning every three days. This meticulous task demands much of his time and attention, occasionally leading him to fall asleep in the middle of his grooming rituals. ㅤ
⌞Playful Behavior⌝
 ࿔ How do they release stress? For Lucifer, playing the piano serves as a refuge where he can lose himself in the soothing melodies, calming his mind and easing the burdens of his responsibilities. However, if one were to delve into his more sinister forms of stress relief, a scene of horror awaits. He takes perverse pleasure in seeking out the terrified sounds of lost humans, reveling in their fear as he approaches, a dark satisfaction coursing through him at the sight of their trembling forms. Proud of the intimidating aura he exudes, Lucifer finds solace in the knowledge of his power and dominance over those who dare to cross his path. "Yes, scream, let me hear how much it hurts when I devour you. I could do this all day" ㅤ
⌞Human Interaction⌝
  ࿔ Responses to human presence: Annoyed, he doesn't understand why such an important demon as himself needs to be in the same ambient as an insignificant mortal. Won't attack unless you trespass his boundaries, but will threaten the hell out of you.
  ࿔ Domestication behaviors: None. Jk jk, he has his soft spots, but hides them very well. Give him some ultra-rare cursed vinyl. Or worship his boots. He will pretend it doesn't affect him, but seeing you bend down to his feet? That makes him excited. If you manage to earn his trust and affection, a rare privilege indeed, you may find him unexpectedly responsive to your touch. A shiver courses through him, and a near-purr escapes his lips when you scratch the base of his horns, a gesture that elicits a subtle display of pleasure from the typically composed demon lord.
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Hope you guys enjoyed, please give me your opinions! Sorry for any grammar mistakes >﹏< Check my Creepy AU masterlist for more content!
We reached 150 followers!!!
Thank you all for the support, for sending your asks and reblogging my content 💖
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hazelfoureyes · 2 days
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i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ
Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system
「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」
Stalker’s Tango
From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.
The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.
He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.
When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’
“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.
Another text. ‘Heated.’
He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’
When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.
No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.
Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.
A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.
“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”
Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.
Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.
A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.
Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”
“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”
“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”
The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”
The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”
He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.
Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.
Sixty seconds. Where were you?
Ninety seconds. Where were you.
One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!
Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.
“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”
He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.
Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.
A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”
As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.
Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.
“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.
You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”
A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”
“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”
“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”
He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.
His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.
“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”
He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.
“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”
Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies
, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 
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allllium · 3 days
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Heyaaa, I have a request! If it's not too much trouble, have you listened to too sweet by Hozier.. that song with the tf 141 boys (if it could be Ghost, it would be great!!)
Thanks in advance!!! And it's perfectly fine if you don't wanna!
~ I'm really sorry this took so long, I have not been feeling great but here it is. I hope you like this because honestly I am terrible at comprehending songs but I think this fits pretty well :)
~ If you're not happy with this for any reason please let me know and I will happily redo it with your advice <3
~ Fluff, WC: 1,189
You have a crush on Simon Riley. You know this, and so does everyone else, including him. Despite the very obvious adoration on your part he's never said anything about it.
You honestly have no idea how he feels about you and you're not sure you want to know. You do tons of little things for him and he does things for you, but that's all your relationship entails.
You are both so different it's not like you could ever fit together so perfectly, right?
I take my whiskey neat
“Here you are Lt.” You slide him a drink across the table. He makes a face behind his mask that you now recognize as his scowl. “Don't make that face at me.”
“You can't even see my face,” he replies, in his signature thick accent. “And I don't need you buying me drinks.”
“Well that's too bad 'cause’ I did. Don't tell me you're gonna let good whiskey go to waste.”
His deep brown eyes stare at you for a heavy moment before picking up the drink, lifting his mask just enough to show his cut jaw and full lips.
“Usually this is where I get a thank you.” You taunt him, trying not to let your gaze linger on what you can see of his perfect but slightly messed up face.
“Don't push your luck, Sargent.”
My coffee black…
“Oh dark like your soul, ain't that right Lt.” You gesture towards his black mug of black coffee.
Simon takes a deep breath as he takes in your words, his chest rising and falling in annoyance. He shakes his head silently, apparently not wanting to pleasure you with a response.
“Seriously, how do you drink that?” You put your hand on his perfect arm to push him out of the way of the coffee pot.
“Oh let me guess you take your coffee with a pound of sugar.” He rolls his eyes at you, in more of an attitude than you appreciate.
“Incorrect. I'm sweet enough as it is.” You smile at him while you turn around to stir your drink.
“Maybe a little too sweet don't you think?”
“Only to you.” You mutter under your breath.
…And my bed at three
“Oi Lt, what are you doing up at this hour?” You take amusement at the way this giant of a man jumps slightly at your voice.
“Did you just say oi?” He asks as if he didn't just hear you say it.
“Yes I did, do we need to get your hearing checked?” You make fun of him for the hundredth time that day.
“Why?” His gruff voice cuts through the air.
“I want it on record that I don't appreciate this attitude of yours. And I said "oi” because I'm becoming more like you.”
“I don't say oi.”
“I don't believe you. You sound like you say it.” You shrug and take a seat on the couch next to you.
“What does that mean?” He sits down next to you but he seems like he doesn't want a real answer.
“Your voice.”
“What's wrong with my voice?” This time it seems like he actually wants to know what you think.
“Oh nothing. It's a nice voice but it just gives me oi vibes.” He stares at you like you're crazy.
“I have a nice voice do I?”
“Don't let it get to your head.” You lay your head.on his shoulder.
No one speaks for a while but eventually Simon sits up. “It's three in the morning, we should get to bed.”
“Yeah that's probably smart.” You give him a big smile when you stand up. “Goodnight Lt.”
You're too sweet for me
“And here you are.” You take a dramatic bow as you hand Simon his gift, acting as if you just delivered the most important thing in the world.
“What is this?” He asks with a tone of impatientence.
“A gift.”
“It's not a holiday-” You quickly cut him off.
“Or your birthday I know, but I remember you saying something about it and got it for you”
“How do you know it's not my birthday, I've never told you that.” He pauses for a split second before continuing, “Did you look at my files?”
“That's not important, open your gift.” He shakes his head but opens the bag you've given him.
Quickly, he pulls out a mask just like the one he's currently wearing. A mask you've handmade just for him.
“What is this?” He instantly demands.
“That is what we call a mask sir. I remember you told me about that one having an annoying hole so I thought I'd help you out. Originally I was just gonna patch the hole but then I figured that mask has been through a lot so you deserved a new one.”
He loudly clears his throat. “I hope you know there won't be a gift in return.”
“I don't expect one, simply doing a nice thing.”
“Well thank you Sargent.” You smile at his thanks, feeling how much he means it.
“Anytime.” Is the only word you get in before he runs off.
You're too sweet for me
“You know this is basically our third date.” You randomly blurt out. You're sitting with Simon in a coffee shop off base. You don't know what you were expecting with Simon off base but one thing you never thought about when inviting him out is his absence of the mask.
Obviously wearing it would draw more attention than usual but now you're sitting straight across from the face of the man you're practically fawning over.
“This is not a date.” He defends roughly.
“Yes it is, our first was dinner and second was the bar so that makes this the third.”
“Those weren't dates, just outings between friends.” He runs his eyes everywhere but your face.
“Aww so you admit we're friends.” You can't help but tease. “But I'm being serious Simon. You can't deny it forever.”
“Yes I can.” He fiddles with his drink as you continue your mini interrogation.
“No you can't. I know you like me, Lt. Why won't you say it.”
“You're different.” He begins.
“If you start to say I'm dumb you're getting punched.”
“No! Of course not. You're different from me and I don't know if we would work.”
“Bullshit. Spill it.”
“Fine, you're too sweet.” He spits out as if it was fire coming out.
You can't help the bubbling laugh that spills out your mouth. “Too sweet? What does that even mean?” You ask him, still laughing.
“I don't know. You're too sweet to me, you give me things and you say all the right things and I don't think I could give all that back to you.”
‘I don't want you to give me anything back. I want you to give me you, you're too sweet for me too Lt. Even if it is in a different looking way.” You slide your hand across the table to lay on his. He returns your hold and gives you a smile that is uniquely his. This is all you need.
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shut-up-danny-kun · 19 hours
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I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.
Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?
I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...
Or...is he?
Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.
Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.
Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.
“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”
To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.
So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.
It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.
Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.
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wikiangela · 20 hours
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tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday
tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖
doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha
(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)
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It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days – his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena’s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.
The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.
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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck
@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life
@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway
@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove
@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck
@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings
@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend
@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz
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