#but the idea has been brewing in my tiny brain for a while!!

[lamnwar]

fem!gom hcs coming soon??? 😦😦

[idontknowreallywhy]

a Thing…

Confession: I’ve only ever written one tiny fanfic scene/concept for another fandom and never realistically intended to even try in the Thunderbirds fandom because there is so much out there that is amazing and frankly I don’t feel worthy of adding to it. My plan was basically to try to find a proper writer to bring my ideas to life buuut… @gaviiadastra posted this lovely fic about Gordon and Virgil…

Aaaanyway Virgil’s reaction in that to people being intimidated by his talent and not sharing their own attempts poked me in the brain and I figured… what’s the worst that can happen? The Thunderfam seems friendly enough… And maybe someone can give me some feedback so I can get good enough to do justice to the little stories brewing in my head one day.

So err, with all the caveats of FIRST TIME WRITING and I’M TOO EMBARRASSED EVEN TO PROOF READ IT and OH HECK PLEASE BE KIND…

*throws ficlet out into the void and hides under Jeff’s desk*

Mysterious Paint.

There has always been inexplicable paint on the ceiling of Virgil’s studio.

It wasn’t the swirling blues and greens and yellows that mystified him… he’d painstakingly covered the tantalisingly blank canvas with those the first year after they made the permanent move out to the island. It had taken several months worth of snatched half hours balanced precariously on stacked chairs or packing crates and he was pretty sure the process had aged his spine by a couple of decades. Maybe Michaelangelo had secret bionic implants because how ON EARTH he’d managed…

His family didn’t blink an eye - after all every item of clothing Virgil owned had some kind of paint on it and so it stood to reason everything he owned and the entire space he painted within should too. They put it down to a stereotypical ‘mad artist’ kind of flailing with a paintbrush 3ft back from the canvas but that wasn’t really how Virgil worked. He was more of a carefully considered, up-close-and-personal-with-whatever-surface-he-was-pouring-his-soul-on-to kind of painter (hence the neck strain from ceiling art application). His passion wasn’t deliberately messy - all those clothing stains generally came from letting a cuff dangle too close to the pallet, or when he stopped to think about his next stroke and the waiting paint would become impatient and drip from the brush on to his jeans. And he would have to confess that he did wipe his hands on his clothes sometimes… his rags stashed by his easel for that very purpose always seemed to have gone walkies at the moment he needed one (and usually turned up later covered in engine oil).

No, it wasn’t his painting style that was to blame - and he could prove it too because there were no similar stains in the lounge at the easel he used when he wished to be closer to his family while he created.

So there, Scott, it’s not as easy to explain as you imagine.

And yet, there they were - streaks and splashes in every colour he’d ever squeezed from a tube - laid down haphazardly over his existing masterpiece. He sighed. At one point he’d started painting over them but it just didn’t look the same and he felt almost guilty - as though he was eradicating something that was supposed to exist. In a way he couldn’t rationalise it felt more honest to leave them there. As if, to do otherwise would be denying some part of himself.

It bugged him, as any conundrum did. He wasn’t a fan of mystery as a general rule - he was an engineer. He was a fixer. When he faced the unknowable he either drew it in order to pin it down or hammered it into crashing chords and mournful melodies to exorcise the questioning from his mind.

He’d initially suspected someone was pranking him. Perhaps this was uncharitable as, for all his japery, Gordon would never vandalise Virgil’s creations… would he? But having EOS keep a log of every occasion his studio door was unlocked for a month proved his brother to be trustworthy… nobody went there when Virgil was absent but a series of silver slashes had been added in the meantime. He felt a sick, dull guilt for doubting his family.

And yet, UGH it was playing on his mind. A rational man, he didn’t believe in ghosts but he was almost willing to consider anything that would give him even a ludricrous ANSWER to the infuriating puzzle.

In the end, it was Gordon who solved it.

[kaboomviper]

good afternoon. I'm preparing for my mother to join me later today in beautiful sunny Los Angeles. I've got a few hours of work to clock before knocking down two brews and a glizzy. In the interim, I thought you all might appreciate:

A Casual Assessment of 2024 in Film so far

AI ✨ is killing Hollywood- So far this year, there's been very little work for real Hollywood talent, and much of the work is going overseas. As the AI revolution progresses, this will probably get worse (most of what they call AI is overseas labor and not really a tiny brain in a USB port). However, there's probably still plenty of work to be had at smaller studios, the Artist may simply see less work at the major outlets: Netflix, Disney, etc. At least for a few years.

Capitalism is a Joke- Sony Pictures bought Alamo Drafthouse as a pet project to put Demon Slayer at exclusive theatrical events (I predict). The dudes at Skydance Media, one of whom is the son of the guy who runs Oracle, are buying Paramount Global for an absurd amount of money.

However! The good news is, there have been some seriously terrific movies that have dropped this year. If you want to feel like your brain is going through a blender, the experimental film market has 'Kinds of Kindness' from Focus, 'The Beast,' a Lea Seydoux project out of France, 'The People's Joker,' a partially animated autobiographical-parody film from Vera Drew, and 'AGGRO DR1FT', the newest and most experimental to date from Harmony Korine.

In my top 5:

5. Robot Dreams

A largely silent film about an anthropomorphic dog and his robot companion who are separated, but dream about returning back together. I'm dead serious that just writing the synopsis of this movie gives me full body chills- not in the simple story, it's unremarkable in literally only that aspect. The film is detailed, it's carefree but deliberate, emotionally grounded but still fun. Think 'Bojack Horseman' meets a Peanuts cartoon. If one or both of those things revs your engines like it does mine, this is for you.

4. Dune 2 Guys @ The Same Time (Streaming on Max)

Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Wormn! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm!Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm! Worm!

3. Challengers (or Dune 2 Guys @ Separate Times)

What can I say? I love Zendaya.

Seriously, what can I say about 'Challengers?' I was largely Guadagnino agnostic while everyone else seemed a bit more enthralled with 'Call Me By Your Name' and 'Bones and All'. That said, he's the kind of director I want to support with my $$ because he's making interesting choices and seems to be continually directing new projects and doesn't seem to have interest in making something with much CGI. 'Challengers' is my idea of a blockbuster and will only grow in my estimation over time, not decrease. Incredibly dense and rewarding script and the aesthetic choices made in the film give me a lot more reason to return to 'Call Me By Your Name' as an adult.

2. The Sweet East (Streaming on Hulu)

Released by Utopia, this film played a few New York theaters somewhere in the region of Christmas to New Years of 2023, which makes this a 2024 movie by my estimation (living in New York City is exclusive in a way that it's a little like being at a film festival all of the time).

This is a 'picaresque', or a 'road film,' starring Talia Ryder and featuring Simon Rex, Ayo Edebiri, and Jacob Elordi. I seriously think this is the coolest movie with the coolest cast ever. Technically not the 'best' of the year yet, but it's something I'd recommend anyone to watch regardless of life experience. It's a stunning portrait of sexuality, coming of age, and Ryder is pure fun, her own little agent of chaos amidst a kooky cast. You're not a real film bro until you watch this movie. Fr. Look at that cast list again.

1. Lisa Frankenstein (Streaming on Peacock)

The best movie of the year.

This is basically a John Waters movie directed by Robin Williams' daughter. Script by Diablo Cody of 'Jennifer's Body' and 'Juno.'

By the way, all of my top three are there because a) the story hinges on an incredible leading woman b) all three cast a SUPERB leading actress.

This won't be the last time I talk about many of these films but you should already have seen them, so consider this a good forewarning.

Thanks for tuning in. Here's a picture of my knee.

[acommonloon]

Bar talk

- Caitlyn Clark being battered in her first season in the WNBA and will be better for it. The women in the WNBA feel disrespected because a skinny white girl suddenly made them relevant.

- 3 fellas at the Rover suggested I stay and buy them a drink. Ok. We talked movies and documentaries about serial killers, bluegrass music, the Beatles, and I was offered a free murder or at least a beat down should I need one. I’d stopped in for a pint of ESB before driving home. I felt proper sober when the bar began to close down. My three, thirty-something bar buddy stooges tried to talk our bartender into, first, one more round then she should join them for a drink somewhere else. She said no.

- the idea of drinking Mezcal in Oaxaca has been aging in my brain pan like old bourbon. John, owner of Pretty Decent was telling me about the barrel pick he’d poured me. I said do you sign up for trips on your website? He stared at me, I said, “You need to know who you’re traveling with?” Bingo, he replied. K

- “Hi, I’m John. Want to come see the brewery.” Not really, I didn’t say. I followed him into the large open space full of towering fermenters and bright tanks, transformed from the GettoKroger into Noble Funk Brewing. Tbh, I’ve seen enough breweries to last a lifetime. I began by complementing him on the Tripel I was drinking. We talked about beer, I reminded him we’d met at the Hall on Washington where he was slinging beers and sausages. He reminded me that was five years before.

- another critter living under the porch. For weeks I’ve been unable to catch sight of it but it’s a noisy fucker. I thought it probably another groundhog. Yesterday, while sitting in my living room chair, the fucker, another ground hog, walked out onto the patio. I went upstairs, loaded the 12 gauge, quiet as an assassin I opened the balcony door. Fucking venomous spiders on webs interrupted me pause retreat. Yuck. Okay now, they’ve scurried off. No groundhog. Canny fucker.

- the 75 acre parcel next to us is in winter wheat. Love it! A couple weeks ago I barefooted it over to the neighbors. I think it’s winter wheat, they said yeah. They lease it to someone. Last fall, that someone dropped a triaxle load of chickenshit about a hundred feet from our house. This stuff is fantastic fertilizer but it’s full of tiny black beetles. Chicken shit beetles. They get in.

- it’s Sunday. I’m drinking De Garre on the patio. I’ve asked D to bring me a bucket of KFC. She’s in Lexington. A whole bucket she asked? You can have the white meat.

[scorchieart]

Scorchie's Follower Celebration Thingy [CLOSED!]

Hello friends! Hope everyone is doing great as we dive into September 😊

I wanted to give a SUPER BIG THANKS to each and every one of you awesome internet nodes for welcoming me into this fandom and chatting with me, reading my writings, and just the all around goofiness of the past few months. Y'all are the real stars ✨

I really wanted to do something for the 100 mark, but real life slipped time away and I don't want to miss this next milestone. I don't have a cool prompt list to offer, but what I do have is a pile of fic ideas brewing in the pot for months now that I've been simply dying to tell you all about.

But I am notoriously indecisive ('tis a blessing and a curse) so I thought some audience participation might be fun. Below the cut are 6 multi-chapter fic ideas and their pitches. I'm asking YOU lovely readers to let me know which one you'd like to see written first to help celebrate 🥳🎉

Each of the following fics has at least a basic outline written, but I've listed them in order of how concrete the story is and/or how excited I am to write them. Of course, the final decision rests in your hands, dear viewers, so do keep in the mind the power you wield in determining the next few months of my fledgling writing career.

More details for the voting below, now on to the pitches! ⭐⭐

Note, all these ideas are for Ikemen Prince. I promise one day I'll expand my library to more series, but for now these guys are still on the brain. Oh, and these aren't the final titles of the fics, just some placeholders for your convenience.

Jin's first year at the palace New title? New father? New brothers? Jin didn't sign up for this, but reality has something different in store for this young prince as he learns to navigate palace life, charm the nobles that loathe his existence, learn what it means to be a big brother, and watch his new family grow. (This one has been in the works since Jin's route release back in March, and I've already got a chunk of it written cuz I'm so excited. This all started from the question: "What happened when Jin first met the other princes?" and it was all downhill from there. Needless to say, it'll be riddled with spoilers for pretty much all the princes' routes.)

Prank boi Clavis finally gets a taste of his own medicine Sariel takes tiny Yves and Licht (and a hyperactive Clavis) into town for the annual Winter Market, but when Clavis sets his eyes on an exotic stand filled with dangerous goods, he ends up biting off more than he can chew with his brothers in tow. (This one is the shortest of the bunch. Just a bit of slice-of-life in the lives of some mini princes being funny kiddies. When I tell you the flashbacks scenes in-game are my favorite parts...)

The eldest 3 go on a hunting trip (begrudgingly) It's time for the young princes to take part in high society. That means fancy balls, hunting trips, and waaaaay too long cramped carriage rides. The real question is if they'll catch any game before they end up hunting each other! (Another slice-of-life scenario, but I wanted to try a hand a writing perspective from multiple protagonists. I have 6 chapters planned and the POV shifts between Jin, Chevalier, and Clavis as the story goes along.)

Straight Eights continuation Basically the continuation of the modern high school AU I started a few months back. Chapter 1 is posted already if you wanna take a look at how that setup went.

Murder in the gardens? Detective Licht is on the case! Another gala, another migraine. Licht sneaks out of the palace to escape the party scene, only to sneak onto a murder scene! Guards and nobles swarm and catch sight of the Brutal Beast standing sword in hand and bloodied atop the dead body, but while the crowd is calling for punishment, Licht requests pardon and proper investigation when his brother looks him in the eye and boldly proclaims "It wasn't me." (Probably the most nebulous idea of the bunch because I have zero experience writing mystery, but I really wanted to delve more into Licht's character and how he reacts to different scenarios. It'll have the usual lot of gathering suspects, interviewing and investigating, and maybe even a spunky sidekick to lighten the mood with witty one-liners. Also the "Herlock Sholmes" character from Ace Attorney looks like Licht in detective getup and I got hooked.)

Clavis & Leon go on a mission, but neither is too happy about it It's Clavis's 15th birthday, but no one is paying any attention to him. Granted, there's a mass kidnapping case going on, but that's no excuse to ignore the third prince! All evidence points to the culprit targeting Prince Silvio's birthday party next month. Eager to prove himself to Sariel and Chevalier, Clavis requests to head the investigation, but how's he supposed to look cool when they make him babysit 3 of his younger brothers at the same time? (Another Clavis? Ye, what did you expect? Again, this is selfish wish-fulfillment of me wanting to see Clavis and Leon interacting more, but with a road trip mixed in!)

There they are! Hope you enjoyed that brief peek into my wacky brain space!

How to cast your vote ⭐

Just leave a comment on this post or send me an ask or a DM with your ranking of the above pitches from most to least interested to read. (for example: 2,4,6,1,5,3)

I'll keep the voting open until Saturday, September 17. Afterwards, I'll do some magic number crunching behind the scenes and post the results.

A few notes about requests ⭐

Experience is the best teacher, as they say, and I've definitely learned a lot more about writing since I started posting. Namely what I enjoy and do not enjoy writing, how to balance different characters and their voices, juggling genres, and a lot lot more! I have plans to experiment more with them in the future and I'm so excited about it! Mondo thanks to everyone who's let me bounce ideas off them, given me advice, and offered feedback on my work. You guys actively shaped the writer I am today.

But since I'm still in the process of developing my writing voice and the end of the year is bringing a lot more real-life responsibilities, I will be closing my ask box to writing requests at the same time the voting concludes. So if you have an idea you'd like to submit (first of all, thank you so much!), you've got until Saturday, September 17 to send it in. Details for posting requests can be found on this post.

To all the people who have sent me requests in the past, you guys are so super awesome and creative. To the requests I have not completed yet, trust me they're on the way. And to awesome people along for the ride, I hope you'll look forward to what I have coming in store 😉

Last thing, I pinky promise ⭐

I just wanted to thank you all again for the wonderful memories. This is the first fandom I've actively participated in and uploaded content for, and the fact that this many of you like the randomness I've been posting really and truly means the world to me.

To all the friends I've made along the way, and to the new ones I have yet to meet, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I honestly wouldn't have kept up with it all for this long without you guys.

Peace and love, and keep rocking on! 👊

- Scorchie

[bakubros-boo-thang]

Disrespected Devil

Wordcount: -4K

Lucifer x F!Reader

Summary: When you disrespect the demon king, Lucifer is forced to say goodbye to you.

Genre: Angst, smutt, slight fluff, but tbh just angst

A/N: So another first. Not only my first time writing for the Obey me fandom (I have a major Obey me brain rot), but also my first time writing angst and I felt depressed after finishing this (which I did a second ago). I love Diavolo, but I needed a reason for the goodbye to happen so even if his dad is the villain, he is the one to execute it... Hope you enjoy this story.

Warning: NSFW, mentioning of being paralyzed I guess.

‘’What’s with Luci today?’’ ‘’He looks more pissed of than usual…’’ ‘’He probably listened to classical music too long and forgot his homework.’’ ‘’Lucifer forgetting his homework will never happen, but if it did he would look like this.’’ Hearing all those whispers during dinner time is nothing new for you. Tonight is different though. You know why he’s mad and you know who’s the blame. But it’s not as if you don’t have a reason to be just as upset. As dinner slowly ends you know there is only a small gap to avoid a situation. ‘’Beel, how about we go bake something for later this evening?’’ You say, as you cling onto the huge redhead. You know that food is a trigger and you know that this is the way to hide from HIM. ‘’Alright, sounds delicious!’’ He doesn’t seem to notice the way you hold onto him for dear life and the same goes for the others. Clearly, they’ve gotten so used to you that it’s not even necessary to be by your side 24/7. It’s not as if they know tonight will be the last time they see you. It’s a small moment of weakness and you feel your heart clench by the thought of leaving those boys. It’s enough to make you lose your grip on Beel's arm. Enough to bend over, because it physically hurts to leave them behind and enough for Lucifer to finally notice you and come to your aid. ‘’Beel, I think she ate something wrong. No cake tonight, I will see her to her room.’’

And with that, he scoops you up and takes you upstairs. Of course, your room is not an option. It’s way too close to the other rooms. No place to yell. No, Lucifer’s room is soundproof. Made for his nights spent with loud classical music and also made for the occasional screaming match with one of his brothers. As he enters the room, he carefully puts you down on his bed. ‘’Are you feeling alright, Y/n?’’ He says as he lays his palm against your forehead. The feeling of sadness is gone, already replaced by nerves. You know what’s coming. You know you won’t hold back. Will this be your last fight with Lucifer? The question never makes it to the surface, because the moment you nod your head in ensurement, Lucifer opens his mouth. ‘’Good, because you have no idea how foolish you acted today.’’  As mentioned before this room reminds you of the occasional screaming matches he must’ve had with his brothers, but never with you. Pissing Lucifer off is easy. You’ve done that plenty of times. Even made him show his true form, but making him scream, that is something you never achieved. Still, it is worth the try. Tonight is your last chance. As you get up you take a look at his face. What faces you is the cold expression he usually shows when he’s done with someone’s bullshit. The expression you have already mirrored back to him. ‘’So you are going to ignore me?’’ I’m not going to answer him. ‘’Are you serious?’’ I am not going to say a word. ‘’Should I spell out what you did?’’ Don’t say a thing. ‘’You just signed your death certificate.’’ His voice cracks and even though it’s far from the scream you aimed for. It’s still the first sign of emotion from the man you care about so much. ‘’Diavolo didn’t seem upset by what I said?!’’ You can’t help but talk louder. especially after being silent for the past few minutes. ‘’ As if he is going to kill me? ME?! And ruin the bonds that are being formed with the humans?’’

You can feel the tears in your eyes, this fight might’ve been about you being disrespectful in some way, but for you it was different. All this time getting closer with all the brothers. All this time loving them. All this time being there for them. It made you realize that the only one who made it difficult was him. With every step getting closer to each other; there were always a few steps back. An obsession with keeping up appearance, an obsession over a promise he would keep no matter what, an obsession with being a stuck-up asshole; That was Lucifer in a nutshell for you. And still, you couldn’t help being drawn to him. As a moth drawn to a flame. Even when the flame could easily kill the moth. Just as easily Lucifer could kill you. And it’s not as if he hadn’t tried that before. ‘’Y/n, You disrespected his father. I had to bargain for you to even leave the castle. The first time I trusted you enough to take you with me alone. And this is how you behave? You know what he wanted to do to Belphegor…’’ You know this story is his weakness. The reason he ended up becoming the lapdog of his so-called best friend. Still, it only makes you more upset to hear him say it. Even when you can hear the slightest hint of emotion in his voice; his eyes stay just as cold as usual. ‘’He is your best friend, isn’t he? He is my friend too, right? You always do this Lucifer! You always get mad over things and it never solves anything. You get mad at me for having fun. You get mad at me for trying to help. You get mad at me for trying to get closer to you. You don’t share things with me! Maybe Diavolo should’ve locked me up. Might as well get myself killed; it’s not as if you never tried to kill me…’’ Your voice is loud as you speak, but his silence is louder. He just stares at you and then it happens.

It’s not that you’re scared you’ve seen his true form before. It’s just as beautiful as him, but it’s also something that happens when he’s full of rage, just as that one time he tried to kill you. You can feel yourself freeze under his gaze. You can feel yourself moving away from him until you reach the headboard of his bed. Still, he moves closer. Until his lips are inches away from your ears. No screams, only whispers; what a way to say goodbye. ‘’DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON?!’’ You are so shocked by the volume of his voice, the bass it carries, that it takes some time to realize he has more to say. Your ear is beeping as he moves his lips away and locks his gaze onto you. ‘’DIAVOLO IS NOT THE FUCKING PROBLEM, Y/N, HIS DAD IS. YOU INSULTED THE KING OF DEVILDOM IN FRONT OF HIS SON AND MULTIPLE WITNESSES. DIAVOLO CAN’T DO SHIT ABOUT THAT.’’ Only now do you notice the way his hands are gripping your arms; The way his expression has changed from cold to almost desperate. ‘’That guy has only been able to do what his dad wanted. Our friendship is real, but if his father told him to kill me, he would do it without hesitation. Do you really think he would think twice about killing you? IF HE WOULD KILL ME -HIS BEST FRIEND- IN AN INSTANT?” You notice the tears in his eyes. Lucifer is screaming and crying, but this isn’t a win. Before your heart breaks again, his arms are around you and his face is hidden in your neck, but that doesn’t stop the words. ‘’I had to send you away. I had to be cold. They know I care about you, but not to this extent. I had to pretend it was for the sake of the bonds. After you left I had to beg on my knees for your survival. I had to beg. The avatar of pride begged someone on his knees. It was all Lillith over again…’’

There is nothing you can say to fix this. It might’ve slipped your mind while you were there. But you were surrounded by royalty. What might’ve seemed innocent for you, was clearly a lot for them and now you had to leave everyone you loved behind. You can feel the tears fall from your eyes. “I’m sorry Luci, I truly am.” It won’t help, but it’s the least you can say as you look up into his eyes. He is still in his true form, but even with his wings all spread out, he has never looked more vulnerable. There is a sad smile on his lips as he caresses your cheek. “I know you are, you fool.” He says with no trace of the rage he had before. “ I don't want to leave you all…I don't want to leave you!” You know that you sound like a small child that already knows he lost and that’s exactly what you feel like. “It’s too late for that now, Y/n. Diavolo gave me tonight to say my goodbyes.”  You try to distract yourself by focusing on his raven colored wings. “So that means I can’t say goodbye to the rest…”  The pain is back. Never being a fool with Mammon, never dressing up with Levi, doing make-up with Asmo, reading books with Satan, eating with Beel or sleeping with Belphie.  You can’t help but grab your chest again. “Are you okay?” Lucifer is supporting you within seconds as he asks the question. “No I’m not, but atleast I get to say goodbye to you.”  And as you look up he leans in and gives you a tiny peck on the lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.” He lets out. You can’t help but smile as you pull him back towards you. “Let's make it a proper goodbye then.” You whisper as you pull him back to your lips.

It’s not like it’s your first kiss with Lucifer, but it’s the last and that’s what makes it so much more special. It’s the combination of mutual sadness and desperation, the hint of rage still brewing somewhere deep inside the both of you. He knows your body, the way it will arch when he pushes you all the way down onto the bed. The tiny gasps when he starts kissing your neck. The way you look away when he starts kissing all the way down your body. ‘’Please keep looking at me, dear. I want you to see how much I am going to miss you.’’ It’s enough to make your heart flutter, the way he starts to attack your core with his tongue right away. It’s obvious he is in a hurry, but even with all the sadness, it’s the best way there is. You can’t help your moans; You’re lucky his room is soundproof. He’s fast, maybe too fast, but with everything that’s going on, it’s the best you can get. And that’s what it is. The best, because within a few minutes you can feel yourself starting to reach that point. The knot in your stomach tightens. your hands end up in his hair and with one loud moan, you erupt around him.

‘’I know that Mammon claims he was your first… in multiple ways… and not to discredit my brother, but I intend to be your last in all of them.’’  He says as he looks at you while he licks his lips. Him saying those words, the way he just made you lose your mind. It feels good, after all the fighting, teasing, kisses and losses , you’re with the man you love. You don’t want to ruin the mood. You’re really trying, but the moment you hear yourself thinking about loving him, about leaving him, about leaving his brothers, you just break. The tears start to form in your eyes and as you try to wipe them away you feel something on your arms. Lucifer. His eyes are cold again as he moves up to face you. ‘’Don’t hide your tears. I am just as sad.’’ He takes a long look at you, lets out a sign, and lays next to you as he caresses your back. ‘’I don’t want to play the ‘’Who has it worse’’ game, truly, I don’t want to, but in all the years I’ve been in heaven and hell, you’re the first human to have ever make my blood boil. Both from nerves and anger nonetheless, but losing you. Losing the one that made my family whole, the one that makes me feel all these emotions, the one that I love, hurts.’’ You can’t help but raise your brow. when he notices your expression he lets out a laugh.

You feel his hand grab your chin and suddenly your lips are only inches apart. ‘’I know you love me, Y/n. I’ve always known. Falling for you, was what surprised me.’’ You can’t help, but roll your eyes at him. Trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your back. The way it slowly moves it’s way to your hips. ‘’You know I do love all your brothers quite a lot too…’’ You say with all the confidence you have left. ‘’I know you do, but still I am the one that has you laying here. Practically begging for more.’’ He let’s out a chuckle as he pulls you closer. ‘’Let’s end this conversation, there’s not enough time.’’ And with that he’s on top of you. You know there isn’t much time, but when he starts to unbotton his shirt it’s as if time slows down. Of course he notices your looks and can’t help to give you a sly smirk. ‘’Don’t worry your next.’’ Is all he says as he takes his shirt off and starts tugging on yours. After your shirt is taken off he takes a look at your body and all you see is adoration on his face. ‘’I want to see all of you.’’ It makes your body flutter. ‘’You’re absolutely breathtaking.’’ He whispers. All this praise makes you feel weak. You try to grab his face, but as you put your arms up they fall down. You feel weak. Not because of his words, but something else. You see Lucifers expression change, the adorations is switched to concern, then back to concentration and before you know it he scoops you in his arms and makes you straddle him.

He’s looking at you, but not really. Obviously talking to himself. ‘’He wanted to be sure…’’ And as he says it he’s back. Back to giving you a sad smile. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Is all you let out. Is all you can let out, as you feel your body weighing more and more. He notices you getting weaker, making sure your settled between him and the headboard of the bed, before he speaks again. ‘’I think it’s time… Barbatos must’ve cast a spell… something that gave us a time limit. The probably knew it would be hard saying my goodbyes to you. Now I’m forced to make haste, just to make sure you’re safe.’’ You can’t even respond. You can move, but barely and all you can do is watch as Lucifer grabs his shirt. As he moves away from you, you’re sure of it. No this is not the way we’re going to say our goodbyes. It needs to be on our terms. Of course those words never leave your lips, but with all the power you have you reach out to him and as he looks back you let out a: ‘’No...not like this.’’ And maybe it’s the few words you’ve spoken, or the way your arm is trembling from all the power it takes to hold on to him, but he crawls back to you. His face is right above yours and if it’s not your eyes making it obvious what you want, you’re mouth will do. ‘’Take me…’’ It’s not a lot of words, but with the face you’re making and the fact that you guys were just in the middle of it, it doesn’t take much guessing. You can see that he’s thinking about it, obviously worried for you, but you can see his eyes change the moment it clicks.

His wings ar still there and you wished you could touch them, feel them one last time, but you should be lucky by what you can still get.’’I used to be a rebel, so why not know.’’ He laughs quietly before he lays you flat on your back.  ‘’I’m going to take care of you my love, promise me to let me know when it’s too much or when you want to stop.’’ You nod your head and you know that your eyes tell him all he needs to know. How bad you want him, how even when you were able to just talk normally, you would want this goodbye to be said only in silence. His body is hovering over yours, his hand touching your neck, giving you goosebumps. ‘’Does this feel nice?’’ he whispers as his hands move towards your breasts. You can only let out a tiny gasp and that tells him enough. ‘’I wish we had more time…’’ Is all he says as his finger enters your core. The moan that escapes you is loader then the both of you would’ve expected. As he continues to stretch you out with one hand, his other starts to prep his cock. ‘’Wish I could… do that for you.’’ You manage to say. You can’t keep your eyes from him. The way he’s hovering over you. His finger inside of you and the way you can’t do anything except for your stares, moans and gasps. ‘’All I want is to feel you right now, my love.’’

And with that he places the tip right in front of your entrance. He makes sure your faces are only inches apart and as he slowly slides into you, his arms make there way to your sides. He’s holding you as he bottoms out in you and the only thing you can do is let out a long moan. He starts moving slowly, tender, putting all his love in every trust. He’s the only one speaking from time to time. ‘’I love you’s’’ and ‘’You feel so good’ s’’ are filling the room. All that praise, all the love in his eyes. The fact that he’s not only literally hitting all your spots, but also the spots in your mind, is what does it for you. You feel yourself unravel under him. You’re so close, that you start to tear up. Your eyes are filled with tears, mostly because of how good this feels, the fact that you’re making love on stolen time, but also because the time is probably running out soon. Lucifer never increases his speed. When he notices your tears he quickly wipes them away and as his hand caresses your swollen cheek he whispers:  Don’t cry, my love, let us enjoy these last moments.’’ And just as he is about to give you a kiss on the lips you whisper a soft ‘’Love you Lucifer.’’ You notice his eyes being red as well and it’s devastating, but it feels so good. the way he keeps a steady pace has you reaching your peak and these final ‘’I love you’s’’, the final kisses is all you need to feel yourself tightening around him. He’s close too, because the moment he feels you tighten around his cock he gives you one firmer stroke and that’s all he needs to cum inside of you. He falls next to you and quickly takes you in his arms. ‘’I wish we could stay like this forever. I would sell my soul… but I guess in some way my soul has already been sold.’’ And all you can do is give him a sad smile before your eyes close.

Lucifer knew that it was time. You were starting to feel cold, too cold. After putting on some clothes and making sure you were fully clothed, he grabbed the coin Barbatos had given him. ‘’Use this before the time runs out.’’ So he had warned him for the curse. He knew he couldn’t be mad at his friends. He couldn’t be mad at you, he could only blame himself. He had shown his weakness by loving you. But you loved his brothers, loved him, despite all he stood for, without any shame. And even with the way it felt like he was going to lose you forever, it still meant the world he had the honor of getting to know you. The moment the coin was thrown a portal started to form and as he grabbed your cold body the darkness swallowed the two of you. As he opened his eyes he saw nothing, but darkness. It took a few minutes to notice that he was in a room. It must’ve been yours, because he noticed a picture of you next to a bed. He was going to take the picture, he was a rebel after all. As he tucked you in, he was at a loss for words. So all he could do was give you one last kiss on the forehead. Not being able to stop the tears falling from his eyes. ‘’Goodbye, my love…’’ and as the darkness was about to swallow him, he couldn’t help but leave one more thing behind. A raven feather, just for good measure. Returning to the Devildom was going to be almost as hard as leaving you here. He was once again going to be the villain in yet another story… the story of how he lost you.

You wake up to sunlight. Too much of it. Why aren’t your curtains closed? Wait, you have to get out of bed, it’s your turn to cook for everyone. Everyone? You live by yourself… right? It feels like you had a weird dream, but you can’t remember it. All you feel is sadness. As if you’ve lost something or someone important. The pain hits you so hard that the moment you try to stand your legs give out and you lay on the ground as tears fill your eyes. It hurts, but you don’t know why. As your hands try to find some grip to get up, you feel something soft. A feather. A raven black feather. It’s weird, but it feels comforting. Before you can help yourself, your lips are already on it and even when you should be grossed out by it, you plan to cherish the little trinket...

[brick-a-doodle-do]

Ohhh you got any Christmas headcannons for your aus? To get into the holiday spirit😂😂 Tinies are just perfect elves or i just imagine borrowers with humans unware of their existence get tiny presents from the tinies in their house, finding and returning something they lost as like a christmas miracle for angst/comfort😌😌

christmas headcannons for my aus you want, christmas headcannons for my aus you'll get :)

christmas vacation 2(?) but it's crashed au!! the three of them have a pretty good idea of when they crashed (tommy & tubbo both have phones that survived (they're dead by now) so they kept track of the calendar for a while until it just became a thing they wrote down elsewhere

SOO naturally they got very excited for christmas time :] while everything was pretty much shit in the three of their lives, tommy and tubbo were persistent in at least trying to make it festive >:D

also the cooler weather makes a greeeeeat setting for noms to happen : )

i seriously don't talk about this au enough but SOMETHINGS BREWING AU AT CHRISTMAS

potions and magic to make christmas decorations and the two of them putting away the fact that they're stuck just for a day so they can decorate >>>

and also wilbur has picked up the hobby of cooking so baking doesn't come far after idk i think that them making christmas desserts together is a cute thought :']]

also the two of them totally make cool potions for each other for presents >:)c

the easiest to think of it tiny workers au!! the park is all decorated, the tinies are all dressed up it's FESTIVE >:D

also wilbur would definitely rent out tommy for a few days so he can spend christmas w/ the three of them (bonus if beeduo comes along <3<3)

HMMMM WHAT OTHER AUS DO I HAVE

that is it for now because something happened and my brain shut down and my responses are becoming terribly slow </3

come back tomorrow i may be a bit more into everything :D /lh /nm

OKAY ONTO YOUR IDEAS !!!

uhm YES i love the idea of this

but something rlly sparked from your elf idea so have this!!!:

wilbur is extremeeeeely lonely. he's like classic fucking depressed shit who lives in a tiny apartment all alone with no social life and a standard lifestyle of work eat sleep repeat :D

tommy is a borrower, who's always been oddly intrigued by human stuff, collecting tooons of random shit when he finds the time to. and alongside this interest in human things, is human traditions !! in fact, he's very aware of the fact that christmas is less than a week away, and can't help but notice that while the city and other residents are preparing for it, his human is just continuing like normal.

he finds a box of christmas stuff in the small attic in the apartment, and takes it upon himself to try and slowly hint to wilbur that he should at least try and be festive

so he tries, and tries, and tries. for days, until christmas eve arrives and still, wilburs apartment is still just as it was.

so, while wilbur is asleep that night, he makes sure that his needs are met and does his absolute best at decorating (which he actually does a pretty good job at, considering the alone time and the fact that he's fairly creative)

wilbur wakes up, comes out, sees the decorations, and is at a complete loss of words.

much to tommy's dismay, turns out wilbur was completely aware of the fact that a borrower was trying to get his attention. he just thought that the guy had grown hungry or something close to it, and ignored it for a while. until christmas day, where he now engages in conversation with tommy and ends up meeting him :D

also it's very important that you know tommy gave wilbur a gift, which was a box full of a TON of crap he'd lost over the year and tommy had collected :) safe to say that wilbur was thankful and did take some things back, but ultimately ended up giving the majority of the things (like paperclips and random notepads) back to the borrower so he could push his curiosity and creativity along nicely :)

[vennilavee]

love lockdown (7)

pairing: levi x reader summary: an anniversary spent together, and an old memory. warnings: wine, cursing, suggestive content, feelings of insecurity, smut (levi gets pegged)- 18+!!! word count: 4.3k a/n: based off of several asks you guys sent me hehe (the ones about the sweater curse, and tbah couple being the winery couple) tbah masterlist

Levi has been knitting for a long time, for years now, since a little before his mother had gotten sick. His mother had been the one to teach him- she had tried to even as a young boy, but he hadn’t really paid attention to it until he was older. He remembers how happy she had been when he had woven his first wool scarf. It’s been several years since his mother passed away, but he still keeps his knack for knitting alive and well.

Besides, it’s a way for him to feel close to his mother.

Levi has his favorite techniques tucked away in his brain and his favorite types of fabrics tucked away in a royal blue box in the corner of his linen closet. His trusty knitting needles also sit in the same box. It’s been a while since he had taken them out.

But he has decided that he’s going to knit you a thick blanket. Who better than to knit a blanket for anyway?

Once you and Levi begin to rack up anniversaries, Levi feels the need to do something different. Neither of you had celebrated monthly anniversaries because you felt no reason to (other than a nice candlelit dinner for your six month anniversary), but this specific moment in time feels different. Mainly because he’s come to the calming realization that you are it for him. And really, it’s a realization that has been brewing warmly for the last few months.

He’ll make it out of sunflower yellow yarn. The color that reminds him of you.

The idea is planted in his head about two months before and he sleeps on it. Before deciding that he wants to do it. It’ll take some time to finish, and he thinks he can have it done in a month or so.

Levi’s favorite way to knit is with a glass of whiskey and with the television turned on for background noise. With every stitch, he finds himself thinking of you- will you like it? He hopes you will- it’s not much, but it’s him.

But he has nothing to worry about, because he knows you’ll appreciate it. It’s part of why he keeps you around, after all.

“Dude, you’re knitting her a blanket? Have you never heard of the sweater curse?” Mike asks incredulously, “I would think you, as a well seasoned member in the knitting community, would know what the sweater curse is…”

“The what,” Levi says flatly. 

“The sweater curse,” Mike repeats with a raise of an eyebrow.

“You repeating it doesn’t tell me what it means. Spit it out.”

“It’s when someone who knits makes a sweater, or anything really, for their significant other. And then the couple inevitably breaks up, because one of them realizes that they put in way more effort than the other,” Mike says. He says it so knowingly, as if it’s fact.

Levi scoffs with a slow roll of his eyes. But still, something uneasy settles in his chest. He tries to quell it before it sprouts and blossoms, and he does a mostly good job of it.

But Mike’s words stay with him for the rest of the day. Even when you had called him to say goodnight from your apartment, it had lingered in the back of his mind.

You could tell something was off- after all, you like to think you could read him like a book. Despite him giving you his full attention, you could tell he was distracted-

“Levi? Is everything okay?” You ask softly, “You seem... preoccupied.”

“Yes,” He says instantly.

With that, you don’t push him. But still you frown a little at him, wondering what could be bothering him. You decide to change the subject. It’s taken a while, but these days, if something was bothering him then he would tell you.

After letting it fester for a bit and after he tried to work through his feelings on his own.

“Hey, can I come over this weekend? I have something for you… And also your bed is comfier than mine.”

“Just say you wanna sleep on my bed. No need for false pretenses.”

“Well, it is a well known fact that your bed is superior to mine…”

You don’t push him and Levi is grateful for that. Maybe he’ll voice his concerns when you come over.

The blanket that Levi is preparing for you still needs about a week of work, but they are coming along nicely if he says so himself. The material is soft- he’s particular about what he works with and for you, he’s even more picky.

With each weave and stitch, he grows a tiny bit unsure about the stupid sweater curse. He curses Mike for putting such a stupid idea in his head. But what if it holds some truth to it? After all, he can vividly remember the instances of breakdowns in communication in the beginning- how many times he was so quick to jump to conclusions rather than talk things out with you.

He’s come a long way since then, but what if the stupid curse holds some truth to it?

His slight spiral takes a backseat when his phone vibrates, a text from you letting him know that you’ve just parked your car and you’ll be inside in a few minutes.

Levi makes his way to the lobby to greet you. Almost every time he does this, you protest, telling him that you can just meet him in his apartment. But every time, he greets you in the lobby whenever you visit him.

It’s small, but it makes your heart sing happily for your chivalrous man.

Levi takes your bags and touches your elbow lightly as you both wait for the elevator to ding. In the privacy of the elevator, you kiss him hello quickly. 

“How was the drive?” Levi asks, rubbing your wrist.

“Felt longer than usual,” You admit, stifling a yawn. Levi hums in acknowledgement and keeps a hovering touch over your elbow as you both walk side by side to his apartment. You allow yourself the luxury of resting your head against his shoulder as he unlocks the front door.

“I would’ve come to pick you up if you were tired,” Levi scolds gently.

You shrug, “I don’t mind the drive, baby.”

Pet names slip easily from your lips when you’re in each other’s privacy and comfort.

“Go change and wash up,” Levi murmurs, patting your ass fondly, “I have dinner ready. I’ll pour you a glass of wine, shiraz good?”

You hum wordlessly and squeeze his arm with a grin. As you fumble through your small duffel bag that you specifically use for whenever you stay over Levi’s place, nerves begin to fizz up in your veins.

You sincerely hope Levi enjoys the small gift you had for him. Pulling on one of Levi’s looser shirts, your favorite purple hoodie and cozy leggings, you pull the gift tucked away in the side of the duffle bag and hide it behind your back.

“Hi,” You mumble softly, molding yourself to his side in the kitchen where he is setting plates for you both, “I have something for you, baby.”

“And what’s that?” Levi asks, bringing you in front of him and pressing your back against the kitchen countertop.

“Sit with me on the couch,” You murmur, tugging his hand in yours gently. Levi sees a small package in your hands as you not discreetly try to hide it from him.

You seem a little nervous, picking at the hem of your hoodie before finally raising your eyes to meet his.

You hope he likes it.

“It’s not much,” You mumble, “But…”

Levi unwraps the blue wrapping paper dotted with little cartoon stars on it with a raised eyebrow. His lips are pursed together in a thin line, wondering what it could possibly be and how he didn’t know you were planning to gift him something.

He thinks about the nearly completed blanket hidden in his bottom dresser drawer.

“It’s getting cold, and I know you don’t like how cold your neck gets in the winter,” You say, watching with wide eyes as he pulls out a rich navy sweater from the wrapping paper. It’s warm to the touch, the material thick and of good quality.

It doesn’t feel store bought.

“Did you- did you make this?” Levi says, almost incredulously, “You made this for me? Since when do you knit?”

“I don’t,” You say sheepishly, “You like knitting and I wanted to make something that you like. Or try to make something at least. If it’s shorter on one arm than the other, mind your business.”

Levi rolls his eyes and pats your head fondly. It had taken you months and hours to figure out what you were doing, with the help of videos and the elderly lady that you bought your fruits from on Saturdays.

He can’t believe you had done this right under his nose. But should he be so surprised, considering he is doing the same?

He wants to tell you about the blanket sitting at the bottom of his drawer, but he refrains. The sweater is a rich, blue that brings out his eyes (at least, according to you).

Levi instantly takes his shirt off to pull the sweater over his torso as you watch with hearts in your eyes. 

“I know it’s not much… Do you-mmph-”

Your sentence is cut off by the abrupt press of his lips on yours. Levi leans over, laying his weight on top of you and kisses you soundly- his tongue slipping in your mouth with the tilt of his head. The material of the sweater tickles your chin and your cheeks. You’re surrounded by him- his kiss, his touch, his distinct love.

Levi knew he was worrying for no reason. The sweater curse might exist for other couples, but not for you both. 

“Thank you,” He mumbles into your neck, his cheeks heating up, “It’s really warm.”

You only beam at him, adoration clear in the edges of your smile. Levi looks handsome, infinitely more handsome than usual since he’s wearing something that you made for him.

Your love looks good on him. 

The memory of the sweater curse is amusing now, when Levi looks back on it. Now, five years later, he’s with you at a winery in celebration of your anniversary. You’re spending the night at a nearby hotel- you had picked the winery and Levi had picked the hotel.

If Levi was a painter, he thinks this would be the perfect picture to paint. You, in a sea of green vines and a clear sky beaming down on you. You, with your glowing skin and mischievous eyes. You, with love sitting in every crevice of your smile that you give him.

Maybe someday he’ll paint it. You, his sunshine personified.

“Mmm, Levi darling. Don’t you think this red wine contains a note of blueberry? Perhaps some...how do you say...raspberry?” You giggle behind your wine glass, the liquid swirling around carelessly.

“It’s a pomegranate wine sweetheart,” Levi says in amusement. You always do this at wine tastings, pretend like you’re an actual sommelier when in reality you and Levi mostly believe that all wine tastes the same. 

“Close enough. It’s in the same family,” You huff.

“Oh is it? Blueberries taste like pomegranates now? What kind of berries have you been eating?”

“It’s called wine. You should try it sometime.”

That earns you a subtle swat of your ass and you giggle happily.

“It’s gorgeous out,” You sigh.

“Yes, it’s almost as gorgeous as you,” Levi says flatly and you nearly throw a slab of cheese at his chest, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Tell me you think I’m pretty.”

“You already know I do.”

“Tell me anyway. It’s my birthday, remember?”

“Your birthday just passed.”

“Okay, and? It’s still my birthday season.”

“You know you’re gorgeous. You know I think you’re gorgeous,” Levi rolls his eyes and then smirks, “But you’re prettiest when your mouth is stuffed full of-“

“I’ll blow you right here in these vines, don’t test me.”

“Stop making empty promises that were both too classy for and finish your damn wine.”

You beam at him and clink your glass noisily. It nearly slips from your grip but you catch it in time.

“We have about an hour until the wine tour. Think we can finish this bottle by then?” Levi murmurs, tugging on your hand for you to settle in his lap. 

The vines you’re seated in are far, far away from the main entrance of the winery. Away from prying eyes. Which is why you both allow for a little touching, a little kissing and a lot of flirting. 

“Who do you take us for?” You mumble and turn your head to kiss him lightly, “We’re wine connoisseurs. Sommeliers, if you will-“

You laugh wildly when Levi playfully nips your neck and steals a sip of your fruity wine. He wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His long, lithe fingers brush against your bare thigh. It’s funny, even after all these years, he still manages to touch you in a way that feels like magic. 

You both finish your glasses of wine and eagerly fill them both up to finish off the bottle.

Your lips are stained a pretty red, matching Levi’s own lips. You touch his lips with your fingers and he doesn’t even swat your grabby hands away.

“There’s some cheese at the corner of your mouth,” You say flatly, “I’ll just get it off-“

You kiss him and he expects it, already used to your antics. He doesn’t let you get very far, only allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth and only allowing himself a plentiful grab of your ass.

“Wow, Levi, keep your hands to yourself. We’re in public,” You laugh to yourself, shooting him a pretend glare.

Levi only sighs and pops a cracker and cheese into his mouth, his hands never leaving the curve of your ass. Your giggles are higher pitched than usual, your limbs and your lips a little looser. 

Tipsiness colors your dark eyes when Levi pulls your sunglasses off. “You’re not fooling anybody, sweetheart,” Levi jeers, “You're drunk off your ass.”

“No! I’ve only had like… two glasses!” You protest, grabbing your sunglasses back from him.

Levi looks at you in disbelief but says nothing. He indulges you in taking selfies with him and deciding to change your lockscreen to a new photo of both of you.

He can’t resist kissing your cheek after another half a glass of wine. “Mmm, you’re pretty,” Levi murmurs into your neck, his face warm, “You wore this dress for me?”

It’s one of his favorite dresses and his favorite color on you, and yes, maybe you did wear it because you’re very well acquainted with this information. 

“No,” You roll your eyes and ignore the pinch to your waist as he tightens his arm around you, “I wore it for the wine tour guide. She’s really pretty, I might ask for her number-”

You swat his shoulder when he has the audacity to bite your neck in response. “I’d call you a vampire but you’re looking more golden than usual, my love,” You poke him, “That’s what happens when you get more than two minutes of sun per day-”

“You’ve got a mouth on you today, huh?”

“Gonna fuck the attitude outta me or what?”

“Tempting, but I’ve got wines to taste.”

Once the wine tour starts and you both get progressively more and more tipsy, blaming it on both of your affinities for wine, you make grabby hands for Levi’s cheese and crackers. He glares at you, close to pushing your hand away, but you stick your tongue out at him and swipe them anyway.

“God, fuck, you know what would taste good with this wine,” You whisper (but really it’s more of a low groan).

“What?”

“Fuckin’ Thai food,” You moan, cracker crumbs sticking to the side of your mouth, “Fuck, babe, I could go for some pad see ew…”

You huff, a dreamy sort of look in your eyes at the thought of it.

“You’re interrupting the wine guide,” Levi scolds, swatting your thigh. Though his eyes are starting to unfocus as the heat of your thigh feels so nice in his palm. He thinks he’ll leave his hand there for a bit.

“This tastes like I just dunked my head into a crisp apple and sucked the juice out of it,” You murmur, giving him a mild cider.

“Like in a good way?” Levi whispers.

“Duh.”

The wine tour consists of a few other couples and groups, but you and Levi keep to yourselves at a corner table as you give each wine you taste a rating. They all begin to blend in with each other after each taste, and pretty soon, you’re heavily leaning against Levi. The scent of his warm, spicy cologne curls around you and envelopes you in a hazy daydream filled with shades of grey.

“What?” Levi whispers when he sees you staring (a little dopily, he might add).

“Nothin’,” You grin, “Wanna nap at the hotel after this?”

“Can’t believe we’re getting drunk just to nap together,” Levi scoffs but he squeezes your hand.

“We have reservations later,” You remind him, “We both need to rally before dinner, honey.”

“Are you ready, baby?” You purr, stroking Levi’s hair back and leaning over to kiss his forehead. A pretty peachy pink blush colors his cheeks and creeps down to his neck. You tug his bottom lip out from the grip of his teeth.

A thin sheen of sweat coats his skin. You grin salaciously with hungry eyes and lick a stripe up his neck. His breath hitches, tilting his neck to the side a bit and you kiss his neck even over his pretty necklace with a green pendant hanging on the gold chain.

It’s pretty because it’s your necklace.

The softness of your lips over his skin- his chiseled chest, his lower abs- is a nice compliment to your fingers gently skimming his sides. You sit back, looking down at him from above. You lick your lips to moisten your suddenly dry mouth.

You’ve seen Levi like this, pliant and glistening for you too many times to count. But still, the sight of him flusters you and sends an instant rush of wetness flooding your pussy.

You adjust the straps of the black harness around your hips, tugging at the pretty purple silicone cock that hangs heavy between your legs. Levi tracks your movement with blown out eyes and a hand wrapped around his own thick, dripping cock.

“Did you like my fingers, baby,” You murmur, letting your hands travel up the expanse of his chest. His muscles tense with your touch, goosebumps arising instantly.

Levi hums, reaching for your hands and rubbing your knuckles. 

“Mmm, words, my love,” You mumble, pressing a thumb to his plump bottom lip. His hot breath warms your finger when he opens his mouth to reply with a soft ‘yes, sweetheart’, his voice heady and low. Broken and slow with desire for you.

You pull away from his lips, ignoring the way arousal swirls in your belly and your clit throbs with how needy he looks already. You reach forward and stroke his cock languidly and gather his wetness over your thumb and press your thumb to his bottom lip again.

“Open, baby,” You say, your own voice sounding a little raspy, “Open up.”

Levi parts his lips and allows your thumb into his mouth and he swirls his tongue over it, tasting himself on his lips. You groan at the sight with hooded eyes, wishing for some friction over your clit.

You look like a vision hovering over him- your legs tanned and glowing, eyes zeroed in on him, looking at him like you want to absolutely ruin him. You are a goddess, and he’ll follow you wherever you might take him.

Especially when you slide into him slowly, deliciously, as he savors the slight burn as it dissipates into pleasure. Your grip is tight over his hips, warmth and electricity spreading from your fingertips to his belly.

You’ll ruin him, ruin the silky navy sheets below him, steal his soul from his cock. All of the above. Anything you give him, he’ll take. He’ll take it with open lips and open legs.

It doesn’t take much for you to find a rhythm with your palms flat on the sheets on either side of Levi. Arousal licks your insides at every gaze of his heated cheeks and his murky, grey eyes. He’s openly vocal with you, panting and mewling into the sheets, alternating between fisting them and holding your hips with a searing grip.

“God, baby, look at you,” You whine, leaving open mouthed kisses to his chest while still rocking your hips into him, “Is this okay, baby? I love you-”

Levi groans and nods, wrapping his legs around your waist for a deeper grind of your cock. He palms your tits, squeezing in his large hands and moans into the space between you both.

“Are you wet,” Levi asks in a strangled voice.

“Fuck yeah,” You grin, thrusting your hips in a slow grind into him. His cock is throbbing, standing tall and pretty for you. You stroke him slowly, matching your thrusts with your strokes.

It takes coordination, but you’re used to it.

“Wanna sit on my face?” Levi murmurs, squeezing your thighs with his heavy hands. He’s close, so close, and you both know it- his thighs begin to quake slightly. And he has the familiar look in his face when he’s about to cum, his eyes go dark, lips parted and his eyebrows are furrowed into a tight line. 

“Mmm, maybe later,” You reply instantly, wanting to see him come undone by your hands and by your cock. By you, by the steadfast beat of love that surrounds you both and envelopes you on this silky sweet cotton candy cloud.

Or maybe it’s just the sheets.

“Is my baby close?” You purr, dark eyes swirling, “My baby’s gonna cum?”

“Fuck,” Levi groans, throwing his head back onto the bed when you thrust into him particularly harshly. The column of his pretty throat is exposed to you and you lean forward, his cock still in one hand. Sucking a mark on his clavicle, you nip his earlobe and his breath hitches as you make your way down his chest.

“Your cock is so big in my hands,” You marvel softly, looking down, “You’re so big, baby…So good to me. My big, strong, sexy man.”

And apparently, that’s what he needs to finally cum, a long, drawn out groan of your name slipping out of his mouth as he shakes in your hold. Ribbons of cum paint your hand and his lower abs, some of it even spraying on your harness.

“You’re messy,” You tease and Levi only hums in acknowledgement, “Are you okay? I’ll go get you water and clean you up, sweetheart.”

Levi doesn’t move, only shifting on his side tiredly. You make your way to the fancy, marbled bathroom to unclasp the harness and clean yourself up. Your pussy still throbs, achingly so, but that’s the last thing on your mind.

He calls your name gruffly, voice a little hoarse. You return to him with a glass of water and wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing the back of his neck gently. Your fingers thread over his sore muscles, his abdomen and his thighs and you rub his scalp soothingly with a deft touch.

“Are you okay?” You murmur, hugging him close to your chest.

“Yes,” Levi says instantly, “More than okay.” He turns in your arms and pushes his head into your bare chest, inhaling deeply and innocently grabs your ass. Just to hold you close- his touch is mostly unassuming. He likes being close to you, touching you, just breathing with you after times like this when you steal his soul with your cock.

You glance down at him and smile, pushing his dark hair away from his forehead and press a kiss to his sweaty skin. Levi nuzzles his cheek further into your chest, a content hum rumbling in his chest. His thigh brushes against your aching core and you force yourself to stifle a groan. But he catches it, because he always does.

Your attentive man.

“You didn’t cum,” Levi states, letting his hand drift downwards to palm your sensitive pussy. 

“We have later for that,” You mumble, swatting his hand away but he doesn’t listen. He presses himself closer to you, sinking his lips into your neck and rubbing your clit lazily.

His long, lithe fingers slide into your wetness easily and you huff into his ear. “We have now for that,” Levi murmurs, nipping your jaw as presses his finger into your dripping core, “Slow with me, baby.”

It doesn’t take much for you to cum, just a few strokes of his fingers in you and a few slow circles of his thumb on your clit. It hits you slowly, crawling up your toes before curling in your belly in a warm stroke of flames. It’s unhurried as it blooms in your belly, allowing you to savor every second of it.

“Sit on my face later,” Levi says, pulling you closer into his side. You throw a leg up around his hip and hum in agreement. You press a kiss to his clavicle, the slow of his heartbeat in tandem with the gentleness of your fingertips rolling through his hair.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” You mumble, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Our anniversary was on Friday,” Levi says with a turn of his lips, earning himself a swat to his chest, “Happy anniversary, pretty girl.” 

Levi kisses your forehead, his knuckles brushing your cheek before dipping down for another kiss. 

“Cheers to many more,” You say, smiling into his kiss. He replies by deepening the kiss and pressing your back to the bed, allowing himself to drop on top of you. 

Levi’s touch has always made you feel infinite, and this time is no different.

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @kentobean​ @alrightberries​ @melancholicmonologue​ @regalillegal​ @castellandiangelo​ 

[monicashipslokius]

Soulmates, Actually Pt 3

(read Part 1/Part 2)

Soulmates protect each other.

Loki paces the length of the small bathroom, turning after only two steps. On each turn they catch sight of themself in the mirror, as hard as they try not to. They don’t want to see the cowardice marring their own features. They don’t want to face themself, knowing they are standing here in relative safety at the cost of their soulmate’s.

Through the thin walls, Loki hears another pound on the front door. Mobius calls out, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Loki stops pacing and presses their ear to the bathroom door, straining to hear outside of it.

After the creak of a door opening, Mobius says, “Can I help you?”

“Are you Mobius M. Mobius?” Thor has a weakness for Midgard and its people. Even as he speaks to Mobius now, his voice isn’t quite as booming as Loki is accustomed to.

“That’s me. Are you selling something?”

“I...? No. May I enter?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. I’m kind of busy, you know?”

“I see,” Thor says. “Wait! I’m looking for someone.”

“Sorry,” Mobius says. The door creaks again, loud, like it tried to close but was blocked by a hard shoulder.

“I must insist,” Thor says, and there’s the booming authority Loki expected. Heavy footfalls step into the apartment. Loki instinctively leans away from the bathroom door. “Do you live here, or is this a closet?”

“Hey, why does everyone think that,” Mobius says, his following footsteps much softer. “My apartment is not that small.”

“It is,” Thor says, blunt as ever, though perhaps his own time on Midgard changed him a small amount, because he immediately adds, “But... nice. Very... brown.” A long, awkward pause. “Seeing this... I feel apologies are in order. I cannot imagine Loki hiding here.”

Loki knows that their usual love of decadent flair is what’s saving them now, but the words still sting. It’s one thing for them to think disparagingly about their new home. It is entirely another for someone else to speak badly of it. Even Thor.

Maybe especially Thor.

“It seems silly now,” Thor says. “I had heard you are their soulmate.”

“It doesn’t seem all that silly,” Mobius says, voice much softer.

“I mean no offense,” Thor says. “Only that you are not their type.”

“Oh? Too old?”

Thor laughs. “Too human. But consider yourself lucky, friend."

"I don't know, I'd think it'd be okay to be the soulmate of a god."

"Not this god," Thor says, and that familiar self-hatred claws at Loki's ribcage from the inside out. They place their hand over their chest, physically pressing down on the feeling, but it does not stop.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mobius clips his words short.

Loki braces themself as Thor continues, "They never stay with anyone for long. They haven’t met a person yet who could hold their interest.”

“Maybe they just hadn’t met the right person,” Mobius says, stronger.

"Right people tend not to hang around my brother. You may have noticed that they are..." Thor pauses and Loki holds their breath. "A villain." Thor, at least, sounds pained to say it, though that is little comfort for Loki.

The word shouldn't hurt them. It is true. Despite their glorious purpose, they will never be seen as a hero, but only ever as the one who stands in the hero's way.

“Or instead," Mobius says, stronger still. Irritation oozes from his words. "Maybe they got so used to being seen as a villain that they started to think that’s all they are.”

The scratching in Loki's chest slows until it ceases entirely. Mobius.

But the calming effect of Mobius's defensive fury does not linger.

Thor holds his tongue a moment, and in that moment, a thick dread buds in the pit of Loki’s stomach. Thor may be oblivious at times, but he is not totally obtuse. And Mobius is angry enough for even him to take notice.

“Have you seen Loki, Mobius M. Mobius?”

“I think you should leave now,” Mobius says.

“So it’s true?” Thor asks, like he still doesn’t believe it. “You are Loki’s soulmate?”

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“They must be deceiving you. Tell me where they are, and I will take them back to Asgard. Then you will be safe.”

“Loki’s not going anywhere with you,” Mobius says, stupidly brave. Stupidly perfect.

Outside a storm brews. Thunder rumbles the walls, as loud as Thor’s voice. “Do not stand in my way, Mobius M. Mobius.”

“No, you don’t get to order me around,” Mobius says. “You barge into my home and try to kidnap my soulmate. You didn’t even do it at a reasonable hour. We were asleep!”

“I am a god.” Lightning cracks outside the window, the light so bright, it flashes under the door of the bathroom. “You are a human.”

Mobius huffs out a breath. “I’m not giving them up. You’ll just have to kill me.”

Every nerve in Loki’s body, every pulse in their brain, the very breath in their  lungs - all scream, No!

The bathroom door flies off its hinges from the force of Loki pushing through. Their daggers are in their hands, their armor has replaced their silk pajamas - there is no room for softness here.

Mobius glances behind him from where he’s standing, blocking the bathroom from Thor in the kitchen. “You broke the door,” Mobius says, entirely too calm for a man who was just about to throw his life away.

“We are going to discuss your blatant disregard for your own fragile life,” Loki tells him, stalking forward to Mobius’s side.

“I had it under control,” Mobius says.

Loki sucks in a deep breath to try to tamper down their roaring rage. “No longer will you risk yourself for me.”

“No, sorry, Loki.” Mobius crosses his arms. “You don’t get to boss me around either. I told you, soulmates protect each other. And that’s that.”

“You stupid, brave, impossible man.”

“Dying for you would be worth it.”

“And what am I to do at that point? Hm? Bid your corpse a fond farewell and move along?”

Mobius startles, like he hadn’t thought ahead that far. “Yeah, I guess.”

If Loki wasn’t holding daggers, they would grip him by the shoulders and shake him. “You have no idea what you are to me. You have no perception of how long I have waited for you. For us. For this tiny little room. For everything we shared last night. And all that we will share.”

Mobius’s eyes widen. “Loki -”

“No, Mobius. You will not be throwing your life away. Not now. Not ever. Not while I have strength enough to hold a blade.”

Mobius blinks. The surprise on his face lasts a moment longer, then softens entirely into fondness. “Let’s go to the store later. Buy some stuff. Spruce this place up a little. We can get a plant or two. And maybe a new bathroom door.”

Loki exhales, and the harshest of their anger slips away. “Only if we also buy you new clothes.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my clothes?” Mobius is smiling now.

Loki almost mirrors it. Until he remembers their thunderous brother occupying the entire minuscule kitchen. Thor seems to lack his usual righteousness. Instead, he looks between Loki and Mobius like he has no idea what to make of them. His mouth hangs open but no sound comes out.

A moment, Thor tries, “Brother, you...” He closes his mouth. Opens it. “You... actually care for this little man?”

Loki’s answer comes easier than even they expected, “Yes.”

“I’m not that little,” Mobius says.

Outside the storm clears away and starlight returns. Inside, Thor lowers his hammer to his side, no longer holding it ready to fight. He stares at Loki for a long moment. “We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

Loki’s impulse is to argue. They aren’t yet numb to the pain of Odin’s deception. Of Loki’s own monstrous truth.

But instead of drudging forward that pain, Loki draws strength from Mobius beside them. From the comfort of their home. From the promise of buying new drapes and bed sheets.

“I’m not going back,” Loki says, hating the way their voice cracks. Mobius inches closer to their side, and they stand taller.

“You cannot rule Midgard,” Thor says.

Loki glances at Mobius, who gives them a soft smile.

“Mostly,” Loki says, “I want to buy drapes.”

Mobius’s smile widens, and he dips his head, as if to hide it. Loki loses themself in the sight of such softness and warmth, until they remember their brother again.

Thor watches them, his confusion palpable. “This is not at all as father said it was.”

Loki tenses at the mention of Odin.

“A lot’s different since yesterday,” Mobius says. “Dubuque can really change a person, you know?” Mobius winks at Loki, and a fresh wave of comfort rolls through them.

“Yes,” Loki says. “Dubuque.”

“Perhaps I could return without you,” Thor says, confusion shifting gradually into something more sure. “If you hand over the tesseract.”

Loki pointedly refrains from glancing at the coat closet. As, to Loki’s surprise, does Mobius. Surely he had seen them place the scepter within. Surely he could parse together what the tesseract could be.

“You wouldn’t need it to buy drapes.” Thor’s grip tightens on the handle of Mjolnir, but he does not yet raise it again.

Loki’s body tenses like a bowstring. There is no way out of this then, without a fight. “You have no comprehension of its power, brother. Of what I could have, what I could achieve with it in my possession. With what I’ve been promised.”

“Promised?” Thor asks. “Promised by who?”

A chill creeps over Loki’s skin, inch by slow inch. They think of the creatures that invade their mind, that found them when they fell from the Bifrost.

You could have this, they whisper, even now. You are nothing without this.

“Loki?” Mobius whispers. “Are you okay?”

Shaking their mind free from the dark grasp, Loki thoughts travel instead to those same creatures wrapping Mobius in their viciousness. Tearing him down. Exploiting his deepest vulnerabilities.

The cold runs deep, all consuming.

With the tesseract still in Loki’s possession, maybe they could protect Mobius. Or, the opposite. Maybe those creatures will never stop hunting them until Loki finally does as they command.

When it was Loki alone, forgotten and fallen, following the icy commands was no question, when both vengeance and a crown were promised.

But Loki is no longer alone.

To Loki’s surprise, concern covers Thor’s face as well, and he has taken a step closer, hand half-lifted, as if in a halted attempt to reach out to them.

“The tesseract will not bring you happiness, Loki,” Thor says, and motions toward Mobius. “Not in the way your soulmate can. You must make a choice.”

“They don’t have to chose,” Mobius says. “I’m staying with them, regardless of what they want to do.”

“But they must,” Thor tells him. “I will be leaving here with either Loki or the tesseract. I’d prefer to do it without a fight.”

Mobius takes a step forward. “I already told you, Loki isn’t going anywhere.”

“If forced, I will take you both to Asgard,” Thor says.

Loki thinks of Mobius standing before Odin, of all the brave, protective things he would say to the All-Father in Loki’s defense. And Loki thinks of how fast Odin would cut him down, Loki’s soulmate or not.

“No,” Loki says.

Soulmates protect each other.

Loki disappears their daggers, then goes to the closet and draws open the door. They reach through Mobius’s brown suits and retrieve the scepter. It’s cold in their hand.

They could grab Mobius and teleport away. Together, they could go anywhere. Thor would need time to track them down. But they’d have to keep running. They’d never be able to stop.

Loki thinks of Mobius, sweating in the desert. Humans are weak, fragile things. Mobius would not be able to sustain that kind of life.

The scepter, the creatures, whisper to Loki, He will die anyway. Why shouldn't you have more?

"All my life, I’ve been in your shadow,” Loki says to Thor. Thor lifts his hammer, readying for the fight to come. “This is my chance to carve my own path. To find my own throne. The Midgardians are hapless. They are in desperate need of a ruler.”

Loki looks at Mobius and finds him watching Thor, body tense like he intends to jump in the way if Thor were to attack. He will die anyway.

“There is no happiness in the promise of a throne, Loki.” Thor frowns, and after a brief, sideways glance at Mobius, his eyes turn sad. “We have waited the same for a soulmate. You have found yours, while I am still waiting. I ask you, who lives in envy of who?”

A new feeling twists inside Loki - something like... pity? For Thor? No. Impossible. Thor has had a life filled with all of his whims being catered to. Ever the favorite. The favored.

Yet.

Thor has no Mobius of his own.

He will die anyway. But. Not yet. Not yet.

“To be honest,” Mobius says, drawing Loki’s attention. “Humans are kind of a drag. We fight all the time, can’t agree on anything. I know that’s half why you think you can fix it all, but really, it sounds like a bigger headache than it’s worth.” He shrugs. “You and I, we’ll do whatever you want. I’ve got your back 100%. But... if you were King of Earth, do you get any vacation days? Cause I got some places I really want to take you.”

Looking at Mobius, hearing his words, listening to the steady cadence of his voice, Loki warms from the inside out.

“We need to go to the beach. You saw my jetski picture, right?” Mobius turns to Thor. “You ever been on a jetski?”

Thor blinks at him. “...No?”

“You’ll love it. It’s so much fun. Out on the waves, just you and the ocean - with the wind in your hair, and the sun all bright.” Mobius turns his smile back to Loki, and Loki doubts any sunshine could ever be as brilliant as him. “What do you think, Loki?”

The cruel whispers grow dim. Thoughts of, You are nothing without a crown, are replaced with, What worth is a crown without him?

The chill burns away, until the scepter is too cold, too painful to hold.

Loki moves closer to the kitchen. Thor raises his hammer. Mobius hurries forward.

But everyone stops when Loki surrenders the scepter - the tesseract - to Thor. As soon as it is gone from their hand, Loki feels a heavy weight lifted away. The chill leaves entirely, and their mind is silent once more.

“You’ve made the right choice, brother,” Thor says. They lower Mjolnir to the ground to look closer at the scepter.

“Odin will not be pleased when you return without me,” Loki says.

Thor hums. “I will pass along your promise to behave yourself.”

“I made no such promise.” With Loki’s new weightlessness, a small, sly smirk slips onto their lips. It's shaky and unsure, but Thor doesn't mention it.

Thor slides his gaze to Mobius. “I think you will have your hands too full to do otherwise, with how quickly this one throws himself into trouble.” He pitches his voice low. “I like him. He’s small, but brave.”

Pride swells in Loki. They didn’t need Thor’s approval, but having it...

“Mobius M. Mobius!” Thor walks to Mobius and draws him into a tight hug. “Now my brother. I await the day our paths cross again!”

Mobius awkwardly pats him on the back. “Yeah, sure! Sounds great.”

As they break, Loki begins to steer Thor toward the door. Thor looks as if he also wants to wrap Loki in a hug, but thankfully thinks better of it. Instead, he simply says, "We will see each other again."

"We will," Loki says, a promise. And for now, it is enough.

Thor starts forward, when Mobius calls out, “Wait, you forgot your hammer.”

Loki and Thor both turn away from the door, toward the kitchen - where Mobius stands, hand gripping Mjolnir’s handle, holding it up off the ground. He brings it forward and hands it to Thor, who stares at him, mouth agape.

Mobius says, “Surprisingly light?”

Loki bites back a smile. They knew their soulmate was no ordinary mortal.

Thor looks at Mobius like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Only to those who are worthy. You are small in stature, but not in heart, Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Uh, thanks?” Mobius says. Softer, he adds, “I’m really not that small.”

*

When Thor is gone, with the slightly damaged front door bolted behind him, Mobius turns to Loki and says, “Told you I’d get rid of him.”

Loki reaches out, grabs Mobius by the shoulders, and pulls him into their embrace. They do not let go for a long time.

Mobius holds them back, nose tucked into the crook of Loki’s neck and shoulder. “I would have followed you,” he says, voice muffled. “You want to be king? We’d make it happen. You didn’t have to give it up.”

Loki will tell him of the whispers and the cold, of the dark promises made. Later. “Perhaps another time,” they say. “Plenty of life to find a throne of my own.” Though as the words leave them, they know they are only half true. Plenty of time for Loki. No time at all for Mobius. The creatures no longer whisper in Loki's mind but they still hear their mocking, He will die.

“I was thinking we could get a couple chairs while we’re out.”

Loki can’t help and doesn’t stop their grin, even as their heart aches. “See? My fortune is already changing.”

“I’ll buy you the best throne,” Mobius says. “You ever heard of La-Z-Boy?”

Loki closes their eyes, presses their forehead to Mobius's shoulder, and wonders how, with the cruel inevitability of human mortality, they will ever go on without this man.

[plant-gt-thought-box]

Hihi! I came to you through Bitty (im the 🎆 anon!) and i had a litol prompt for you! you don’t gotta do it if you don’t want to but yeah this has been brewing in my brain for a while. This is inspired by something I did with my friends a few days back and I wanted to see if anyone wanted to write it because I suck at writing HEBSHCHSJNC- Ok ok, We have normal Phil and T!Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno. Phil finds the kids getting attacked by a giant and protects them. Noms are possible too!srryitlong

I like this idea! (And if you ask I will gladly make a part 2 to this)

Cw// Mansion of blood and injury

------------

Safe With A New Friend

Philza peacefully walk through the giant Woods enjoying the scenery and listening to all the birds sing, he hope today stayed this peaceful

But it didn't.

Philza heard a loud scream from deep within the forest, whoever it was sounded very young, Phil grab the handle of his sword as he started walking towards the direction of the scream

Once he got to where he'd heard the screaming Philza pulled his sword out "Hey step away from them, you should know better than to pick on humans"

The other Giant, Dream, looked over at Phil dangling a tiny blond-haired human in the air and holding two other humans in his other hand "Oh c'mon Phil-" Dream yelped as Phil held his sword to his throat

"Hand them over. Now." Philza held his free handout and watch as Dream handed two of the humans over "All of them." Dream grumbled and finally dropped the youngest human into Philza's hand

He held he's hand close to his chest and glared daggers at Dream "Now get out of here"

Dream turned around and ran as quickly as he could, not really wanting to get his ass kicked

"A-Are you ganna eat us?" Philza looked down at the blonde haired human and smiled ruffling the kids hair

"No, I'm not going to eat any of you" Philza put his sword away and started walking towards his home "What's your name?"

"Tommy, I'm 6 and a half! And these are my brothers Techno and Wilbur!"

Philza looked down at the two unconscious humans, they we're covered in blood and he could see a few of their injuries "And how old are they?"

Tommy looked over at his brothers "Oh Wilbur is 15 and Techno is 16!"

"Ah I see... why were you three in the woods?" Philza held the three closer to his chest and quickened his pace back home, God they were all so young-

"We we're looking for food!" Tommy smiled showing off some of his already lost baby teeth

Philza asked extremely worried for the answer "Did your parents send you?"

"Nope, we don't have parents!"

Philza felt his heart break as he open the door to his house and walked over to his kitchen table, he carefully set them down on the table as he grabbed a medkit and started taking care of Techno and Wilbur's injuries

"Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat while we wait for your brother's to wake up" Philza smiled sown at the 6 year old as they wandered around the kitchen table

Tommy thought for a moment continue looking down at he's untied shoes "Um can I have ice cream?"

Philza smiled and gently ruffled Tommy's hair "You can have ice cream after dinner, do you like potato stew?"

Tommy nodded his head excitingly "Yes yes yes! Techno likes it too!"

"Ok, I'll make sure to save him an extra big bowl then" Philza carefully moved Wilbur and Techno onto a soft pillow as he started getting everyone's dinner ready

It was going to be nice having some company in the house.

[romelle]

stir it up together (and still make something sweet)

romellura | 2k | title from this song 🥰

today i found out that there are only three romellura coffee shop au fics in existance, and thereby decided to come back in order to right this wrong. it started out as a silly idea, but i think it now might be one my favourite vld fics i’ve written, so i really hope you enjoy as matcha (heh) as i did!

The sun has only just risen, and the reminders of the first rain shower of the season still linger in the air. It's the exact type of a tranquil morning that all of those early rising junkies always rush to tell everyone about, perpetually on standby with their green smoothie recipes and an odd desire to recruit.

Complete with dewdrops on the grass and the clouds blushing a pretty pink at the sun's gentle attention, the picture this morning paints is simply made to be the background photo of some larger than life motivational quote. Allura can practically envision it on one of the many magnets Shiro puts on his fridge.

It's rather unfortunate, then, that all that beauty is indefinitely wasted on one out of the only five people awake to witness it.

Though Allura isn't quite sure that she'd classify her current state as being awake. 

Despite all of her motivational Pinterest boards and energising smoothie orders, Allura has never been much of a morning person. This, to be fair, is not for lack of effort on her behalf. In a true star-student slash overachiever fashion, she made sure to never waste a minute of daylight, no matter how much every inch of her soul wishes to protest. 

Judging by the way she allows her head to fall against her hands, though, her efforts had been in vain.

Lance (because he just has to be annoying about everything he does) takes to mornings just as smoothly as he does to chatting up grumpy coffee shop baristas; which is to say, surprisingly well.

Even though they both got up at the crack of dawn for their training (as per Allura's request, because she seems to love making self-destructive choices), he has no problems with being just as talkative as always. Although he's definitely much more vocal in his dislike for morning training than Allura will ever be (if anyone dares to ask, she absolutely adores waking up at five o'clock), he's also much quicker at recovering from the initial sour mood that unavoidably stems from waking up to a starry sky. 

A perfect example of this would be the fact that he's currently leaning halfway across the counter with a flirtatious smile- all sparkling eyes and casual charm- while Allura silently festers alone at their table. The thoughts that brew in her head are more bitter than the blackest of coffees.

She raises her head back up when she notices someone lingering by her side, fully expecting to be met with Lance's dramatic interpretation of whatever it was that played out at the counter.

She can already envision it with concerning amounts of clarity; the way he'll throw himself into the chair, ready to drown out the sleep-inducing music with pointless ranting. Allura will roll her eyes and pat him on the back, but she does actually enjoy these post-training hang-outs of theirs. Nothing chases the morning blues quite as well as listening to Lance complain about how handsome the morning shift barista is, while somehow also managing to sound angry about it.

Instead, whatever brilliant teasing remark she had formed in her head gets quite sufficiently replaced with a sound of blaring alarms and rose petals crowding her vision.

Because, of course.

Always dressed up and graceful, it is only natural that Allura should meet the prettiest girl in the world the one time she looks an utter mess.

She tries not to stare too much. Partly because of this tiny, minuscule part of her brain that is still conscious enough to let her in on the fact that such behaviour would, indeed, be considered rude. But it's also because the longer she stares, the more aware she becomes of her own unflattering post-swim practice look. The curls of her hair leave a damp spot at the collar of Lance's washed-out hoodie, which hangs awkwardly from her shoulders. 

Her waitress really is someone you could stare at, though. Even if Allura can't precisely pinpoint where she might know her from, there's something distantly familiar about her. With her long blonde hair collected into a high ponytail, blue graphic liner and a wide grin, Allura thinks it would only be appropriate that a girl like this should come into her life accompanied by the first rays of sunshine.

And, alright, fuck.

She's definitely staring now.

"Apologies," Allura manages, brushing an escaped curl behind her ear. She takes a glance at the chalkboard menu on the wall, far too quick to actually read anything. "I'll have a vanilla black tea and a raspberry muffin, please."

For a brief moment, the girl seems to be slightly puzzled by such a request. This strikes Allura as a bit odd, because it's the order she takes nearly every time she's here. However, the girl recovers quickly, the grin making its way back onto her pink-tinted lips.

"Very well! And could I get your name?"

Allura frowns, thinking back on all the other times she visited this coffee shop.

"I wasn't aware you write customer names on the cups."

"Oh," the girl muses, "I suppose we don't. I was mostly asking for myself."

For a brief moment, Allura considers that she is, perhaps, still dreaming. She unthinkingly reaches out to pinch her own arm, and blushes even further when the girl's eyes follow the movement with playful amusement.

"Allura," she says, and tries very hard to breathe like an average human person would. 

"Well, I'm charmed to meet you!" the girl chirps, her up-beat attitude somehow both contrasting and perfectly in sync with the early morning atmosphere. "But you can also call me Romelle."

Right. That does absolutely nothing to help Allura's breathing issues.

"Oh," she says.

"Oh," the girl agrees. 

Romelle's flowy dress is made out of light blue fabric, with tiny daisies embroidered all over. With alarming urgency, Allura remembers the garish, colourful socks with cartoon rats that she's currently wearing, and swiftly crosses her legs under the table.

"Me too," she blurts. "I mean- the charmed bit. Not the-"

Romelle arches an eyebrow, amused.

"Well, you got it," Allura finishes lamely. 

"I did," Romelle says, smiling like she knows something that Allura doesn't. Being the good student and overall smart girl she is, Allura can't say that she's very used to being on the receiving end of this smile. She quickly deduces that she prefers the other side of the equation much, much better.

"Would that be all?"

A nod is all that Allura can manage.

"Then I'll be back with your order shortly."

Allura nods again, because words just seem like a bit too much, even for an overachiever such as herself. By the time Lance rejoins her table (the barista he set his sights on in tow), she hasn't moved an inch; still pinching that same spot on her arm as she replays that conversation over and over again.

Oblivious to her struggles, Lance all but throws himself into the chair on her right.

"We have a guest!" He says. The guest in question awkwardly hoovers by the table, raising his hand for a stilted little wave. "My buddy Keith is free while the place is still empty, so we're gonna be kind enough to keep him company."

Despite her misery, Allura still finds the energy to tease her friend (he makes it a remarkably easy feat, really). Lips quirked up in a grin, she mouths the word buddy at him until he kicks her shin under the table. She kicks him back, and because he is who he is (read as: overdramatic and utterly ludicrous), Lance handles the blow in a similar manner in which an average person would take a severe bullet wound.

He falls to his knees in the middle of the shop, clutching at his chest.

"I hit you in the leg, though," She points out.

"Exactly. And the betrayal was so great that the pain reached all the way to my heart."

Allura huffs a laugh, rolling her eyes as previously predicted.

Poor Keith looks entirely at a loss. Given her situation only minutes ago, Allura finds that she can sympathise. She nods her head in greeting, which he responds to in kind, although he already waved when he first arrived. They both appear to be similarly dazed.

"Sit down, Mullet," Lance tells him, waving vaguely in his direction before turning back to Allura. "Have you decided what to eat yet?"

"Yes," Allura says. "I've already placed my order."

Keith frowns.

"You… did?"

Before Allura can get her answer out, though, Romelle reappears. The rose petals, rose-tinted lights, and a melody worthy of strolling minstrels all follow with. Despite the way Allura purposely avoids looking straight at the waitress (or perhaps precisely because of it; curse her usually perfectly polite manners), Lance seems to pick up on her strange behaviour almost immediately, and he does so with an (excuse her language) shit-eating grin and shameful amounts of glee. 

Even if Romelle, by some miracle, remained oblivious to Allura's flustered reactions, she most definitely will catch onto Lance's more than obvious eyebrow wiggling.

"A black vanilla tea and a raspberry muffin for our most alluring customer!"

Next to her, Keith shakes his head in amused bafflement. When Allura steals a glance in his direction, she finds that he looks just as entertained by this interaction as Lance does- though he isn't even looking at her.

He's looking at Romelle.

She must notice this as well, because she immediately levels him a look of her own.

"Do you have something to say?"

"No," Keith responds. "I was just wondering if you'll take our orders, too."

Considering the fact that they're in a coffee shop, this strikes Allura as a rather curious thing to ask. But the way Romelle responds to the question with a small ha! sound, as though she's laughing at the mere suggestion, might be even more so.

"No way. Get it yourself."

The governess from Allura's childhood would have found the attitude appalling, but Allura only finds herself even more attracted to the cute, magnetic girl than she already was. Stuck-up old ladies: zero. Lesbianism: one.

(Or one hundred, more accurately)

"How come you got it for Allura?" Keith asks, even though he seems to know the answer.

"Pretty girl privileges," Romelle responds, not at all embarrassed by his taunts.

Which is fine. Allura is blushing enough for both of them. 

"If that'll be all, ladies and jesters," Romelle continues, adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder with an adorable little sway on her heels. "Places to be, things to see. You know how it is."

"Your shift is already over?"

Allura can only hope that the others can't hear just how disappointed she feels.

At her question, Keith and Romelle exchange an unreadable look. Fortunately, Allura isn't the only one to notice it.

"Alright, what's up?" Lance says, the authoritative tone diminished by the fact that he's still kneeling on the floor. "What do you two keep being all… weird and smiley about?"

They look at each other again. Lance points accusingly.

"See!"

"Well," Romelle starts, only a little sheepish. "I might not actually work here. I only dropped by today because someone," She glares unabashedly in Keith's direction. "Forgot his bag."

Oh.

Oh no.

All the sleepy haze that sat firmly on Allura's shoulders only seconds ago suddenly disappears, leaving her newly clear-minded and capable of basic thinking skills. The bone-deep embarrassment which takes the recently vacated spot on her shoulders is even heavier than the sleepiness that previously occupied them. Allura can only hope that it's heavy enough for the ground to crumble underneath its weight, pulling her into the very core of the Earth.

"I'm terribly sorry," She rushes to say. "I was very sleepy, and you came over to my table, so I stupidly assumed that-"

Romelle waves her concerns off quickly.

"No worries. The whole reason why I approached you in the first place is that I recognised you from one of my last year's classes."

Ah. That must be why Allura found her so familiar.

"Recognised," Keith mocks. "As if you didn't spend the entire semester talking about her."

Romelle doesn't say anything to deny it, and Allura's cheeks burn even hotter at the implication.

"How much was the tea?." She asks, reaching for her wallet.

"That's alright," Romelle says, grinning brightly. "My treat."

Allura bites her lip, nearly charmed into a stupor.

"Well, you must allow me to repay you somehow."

Romelle purses her lips, humming pensively. Eventually, she says: "Do you have a pen?"

Allura nods. Even in her lowest moments, her backpack comes ready to go, packed with all the most basic essentials: including but not limited to paper tissues, hand sanitiser, a thermos bottle, ibuprofen, nighttime pads, a switchblade, and her trusty packet of 24 sparkly gel pens. She fishes out the hot pink one, and hands it over to Romelle.

The girl accepts it with cheerful gratitude before reaching for the napkin placed near Allura's teacup. With alarming giddiness, Allura realises that what she's writing down appears to be a phone number, followed by a sharp-nosed smiley face. Before handing the napkin back, Romelle brings it to her lips for a kiss, leaving behind a mark the same shade as her rosy lip balm.

Lance whoops delightedly, shaking an unmoving Allura by the shoulders.

"There," Romelle says casually, as though she didn't shatter all the romantic ideals Allura once had only to rebuild them in her own image. "Let me know when you're free, and you can buy me coffee instead."

Allura blinks.

"Yes," Lance instructs her.

"Yes," Allura repeats. She shakes her head a bit. "I mean, yes. Yes, of course."

Romelle smiles again, much lovelier than the sunshine outside could ever hope to be.

"Good. I'll look forward to it."

As she leaves, Lance whoops again, louder this time.

"Holy crow," he cries. "Holy crow, Allura! I thought I was the one getting the coffee shop romance!"

"Wait," Keith says, expression sobering abruptly. "What?"

But Allura isn't listening to them anymore. She looks down at the napkin in her hand, and the weight she previously felt disappears entirely. Instead, she feels light enough to float up, up, up and into the stratosphere. 

And, alright. Perhaps Shiro has a point.

Mornings might not be that bad, after all.

[kuroopaisen]

cause & effect || chapter 3

➵ your work friend, kuroo, has a tiny favour to ask. to say you’re surprised is an understatement. 

warnings: f!reader, alcohol

wc: 1.4k

m.list | ch. 2 ↞ ch. 3 ↠ ch. 4

“Okay, so,” you sigh, slamming your pint down on the bar. Kuroo barely flinches. “What do I actually have to do?”

It’s been a few days since Kuroo asked you for that favour. A few days over which you could’ve reconsidered. Thought about how ludicrous it was. But, you’re still willing to do it, for whatever godforsaken reason.

But as you sit in the local bar, a frequent Saturday night haunt for the two of you, your doubts are bubbling back up. They have been over the last few days. Would you be able to pull this off? Would you make a mess of everything? Would his family figure it out immediately? What would the consequences of that even be?

“Just pretend that you like me,” he shrugs, grinning at you. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You’re not sure if that’s an insult, a flirt, or both. You shoot him a look. “I’m going to need to polish my acting skills.”

Kuroo places a hand on his chest, eyebrows raised in mock offense.

You smile, shaking your head. “Okay, so I’ve got to pretend like I’m into you. For how long?”

“Just the holiday period,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Then you’re free to go.”

“Am I… spending Christmas with your family?” You ask. It’s not the biggest deal, but it’s something you’d need to warn your own family about.

Kuroo shakes his head. “Not the day. Just a couple of dinners, a couple of get-togethers, so that they get off my back for a while.”

You bite your lip. It’s not a massive ask, but it still feels… wrong. Like you’re lying to people. Well, you are, but it’s supposedly for a good cause. But your slightly tipsy brain is having a hard time justifying it to yourself. Why’d you always have to get so damn preachy when you’d had a bit to drink?

“You okay?” He asks, tilting his head at you. There’s genuine concern in his eyes. You don’t know why that surprises you.

“It’s just…” You take a deep breath, clenching your fists in your lap. “Isn’t it a bit unethical?” You’d said that a few days ago.

Kuroo sighs. “Yeah, it is.”          

You stare at him with wide eyes. You’d expected him to defend himself, but no. He’s being straightforward.

He holds his hands out in front of him, his brow slightly burrowed. “Think of it as the lesser of two evils.”

“What do you mean?”

“Either we do this unethical little fake-dating thing and make my family happy because of something that’s not real, or I let them down once again, and make their holiday season more stressful.”

“And… pretending you have a girlfriend is the lesser of two evils?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “It might not be real, but it’ll make them happy for a few weeks.”

“You really are a con-man,” you scoff, shaking your head.

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” he chuckled. “But, I get it. And if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

He’s said that a lot. But you’ve never taken the out.

“I’m happy to do it,” you say slowly, carefully. Were you stupid? Why weren’t you running at every opportunity?

Relief floods his face and he smiles. It’s a relaxed kind of smile, one that’s flattered by the dim lights of the bar. You don’t let yourself look at it too long, lest your tipsy mind goes somewhere it shouldn’t.

“Okay, well next order of business,” he hums, turning to face you more directly. “We need to establish some boundaries.”

You blink at him. “Boundaries?” It felt a bit like you were finding out the hidden clauses of a contract after you’d signed it.

“I don’t want to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable,” he begins, each word slow and methodical. He doesn’t usually speak like this. That’s worrying.

“Right,” you nod.

“But we’ve got to make this look real, right?” He says, the slightest of flush in his cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s because of what he’s just said or if the beer is finally kicking in.

Shit. You hadn’t thought of that.

“So…” He clears his throat, averting his gaze. You do the same. “What aren’t you comfortable with?”

You pause on that question, biting your lip. “Uh… I mean… I guess don’t do anything that you wouldn’t do in front of your family anyway.”

“Right…” He nods slowly. “Is there… anything else?”

“I… I guess you can hold my hand?” You offer, shrugging. Honestly, it’s been a while since you’ve dated anyone. What did casual affection even look like.

Kuroo looks at you with the same expression he has when on the phone to a particularly difficult customer.

“What’s wrong?” You have half a mind to put your hand on his shoulder, but you stop yourself.

“Can I kiss your cheek?” He says it so quickly it’s basically one word.

“If you need to?” You can’t believe this is a real conversation you’re having.

“Right,” he nods, turning his attention back to his pint. At least he’s just as embarrassed as you were.

You don’t know what to say now. You’re just sitting next to him at the bar, confused about what the fuck is going on. You’d agreed to this time and time again, but you’re still not totally sure if this is the right thing to do. But it was too late to change your mind now.

“By the way,” he says, clearing his throat. “If you ever want or need to back out, you absolutely have the right to.”

You nod. It’s like he read your mind. It makes you feel at least a little better, all things considered.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unsure of what else to say.

He nods in response, taking another sip of his beer. God, this was awkward.

You watch him for a moment, a new concern brewing in the back of your mind. “Hey, Kuroo?”

“Hm?”

“If we’re going to convince your family this is real, we’ll actually need to get to know each other, right?” It feels stupid to say it, but that feels like an essential flaw in his plan. “Like, as a couple would know each other. Not… not work colleagues.”

He thinks it over for a moment, a frown deepening on his face. “You know what? My family is pretty perceptive.”

“I figured,” you smile. You’re not sure if any other kind of person could’ve raised the man sitting next to you.

“Right,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s a little more ruffled than usual – his entire demeanour is, actually. He’s always got a laidback vibe, but Kuroo on a Saturday night had a certain laissez-faire that you still aren’t used to. But you’ll have to.

“What’s the plan?” You ask, propping your chin on your hand.

“We could fill out questionnaires and give them to each other,” he shrugs.

You snort. “What, and study them?”

“I guess?”

“Is your family going to put me through a pop quiz?”

“They might just,” he chuckles.

You roll your eyes. Bless that, but you’re not going to sit there and memorise facts about this man like you would for a geography exam. “Or, maybe we should just go on actual ‘fake dates’.”

He blinks at you for a moment, his cheeks growing slightly darker. “Actual fake dates?”

Admittedly, you’re not quite sure what separates a ‘fake’ date from a real one. How you and Kuroo going out together would constitute one and not the other.

“What I mean is,” you clear your throat, trying to backtrack, “we should just hang out a bit more before I meet your family.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he nods. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

“Well, I’m the one who suggested it,” you smile. His concern for your comfort and wellbeing is endearing, if nothing else.

“Alright,” he nods. “Well… I’ve got your number.”

“That you do.”

“And… I’ll text you,” he says, slightly more confident than he was a couple of minutes ago. “And we’ll organise something.”

“Just make sure it’s fun,” you grin.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m offended you think I’d propose anything less.”

“Sorry,” you roll your eyes, but the tension in your chest is easing. “I’m expecting big things.”

“Don’t forget I’m in a wage job,” he grins, tapping his glass. “I can only afford one of these tonight.”

“Is this you letting me know that you won’t pay for my dinner?” You run a hand through your hair, smiling.

“I’ll keep it a surprise,” he smiles, stretching his arms over his head. “Just don’t get your hopes up.”

That feels more like a warning than it should. “I’ll do my best.”

[brunos-beloved]

I really love your Fugo x reader fics and I was wondering if I could maybe a request something a bit fluffy with a reader who has a crush on Fugo and really likes his stand and is really patient and gentle with Purple Haze and just wants to show him love to calm him down? Perhaps the reader has a stand that could handle the virus but maybe Fugo doesn't know that too much and is scared for their safety? Sorry if this isn't very clear, I know anything you do will be great though! 🥺❤

calm : fugo pannacotta x reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: gentle reader comforts Fugo through his anger.

(sorry i didn’t really include purple haze in this one, i kinda just had an idea and went with it)

—✧—

His anger didn’t make you uncomfortable, even in times maybe it should’ve. Fugo didn’t scare you, nor his stand, and you don’t think either of them ever could, even with a rage as seething and escalating as his. This was because despite his misgivings, you trusted and cared for him, all of him, and as you fought alongside Passione, those facts only seemed to grow more true.

“Fugo,” You grabbed his attention, using it as a way to warn him of your intervention. From earlier times you’d found the boy didn’t quite like being touched, mostly by surprise, the last time a curious hand had sneaked onto his shoulder nearly sent him reeling, a tight hand on your wrist in a millisecond, a fire in his eyes. But upon realizing it was just you, a person he trusted, the blonde settled, and apologized sheepishly. Although you hoped that this time, with warning and caution, he wouldn’t mind, or at least wouldn’t be so startled. The thought of someone rejecting your touch pained you, but leaving someone in need of comfort without even an offer was far more worrying. Reacting to your softly stern voice, the blonde looked your way, frustration still creasing his features. You held his eyes and pushed a palm onto his shoulder blade. Awaiting a harsh reaction that never came, you continued, and rubbed a small circle into his back. “You seem really stressed, this isn’t worth losing your head over.” Stress was a guess, the evidence the redness on the edge of his eyes and the bags that had settled underneath them. “Give it a rest and take a break alright?”

“But I...we weren’t even close to being finished this chapter. If I stop now-”

“Fugo, you need to stop now. You’re burnt out enough.” You sent him a small smile as he held onto your kind eyes. You were always so gentle towards him, Fugo wondered if he even deserved such treatment, then thought you probably just looked at everybody that way. You were soft, calm, and nearly always composed, everything he wasn’t. A soft hum brought him from his thoughts. “How about this...You take a break tonight, and if you really need to finish this chapter with Narancia I’ll finish it for you! Math was actually my best subject after all. I’ll probably even remember some of it...“ A broken smile made its way to Fugo’s lips, trying to imagine the two of you seriously studying Math together. Narancia was childish, and though you were quite mature he brought out the kindred spirit in you with his own childishness. He could see you teaching Narancia some things, but then quickly trailing off and suddenly Math Class became random tangents and bubbly discussion. Not much would get done, but at least something might. Fugo leaned into the table, an elbow down and a hand in his hair. The exhaustion that shone through his pose worried you to no end, and you let out a sigh. “I’d get you espresso, but you need sleep not caffeine.“

“It’s eight, I don’t think sleep is quite an option yet., madre” You narrowed your eyes at him, a hand still behind him, the expression would’ve made him chuckle if he hadn’t been so weighed down by the sudden fatigue. The moment he’d stopped yelling and chasing everything seemed to slowly crash within him.

“Tea it is then.“

Your determination knew no bounds. Though Fugo forced himself to remain awake, you brewed him a chamomile tea, and quite a strong one. Chamomile was a herb known for making yourself drowsy at night, a trick you used when sleep didn’t seem like an option. The night sky was still a navy blue, but began to descend into its usual rich black, the moon shining through. You’d dragged Fugo to the terrace along with a couple blankets, sharing an outdoor sofa there. With soothingly warm cups of tea in hand, the steam warming your cold noses, the two of you discussed topics of utmost importance. When Fugo started to drift the conversation over Narancia, you switched it to the origin of Chamomile, anger didn’t go nicely with sleep, which was your hidden goal in the end after all. Though you watched his violet eyes blink more and more often, watched his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, so did your own. And with passing time you realized Fugo’s determination to stay awake was much fiercer than your own. Despite everything though you continued on, chatting around and giggling about the tiny things the both of you were irritated by:

“His shoes? Really Fugo now you’re reaching-”

“He’s short enough to be an elf y/n how do you not see it!”

Trailing off and giving up on finding reason to such a statement, you burst into the chuckle you’d been trying to hold back. It seemed to Fugo, even something as innocent as Narancia’s shoes and height had become a problem. Though, you could tell it was not only lighthearted, but that Fugo had crossed the line of exhaustion where a person’s filter was completely lost and got rambly. But you didn’t miss the yawn that escaped him while you snickered at the diss. Your yawn followed his, and you stared into his violet eyes for a moment. The moonlight brushed his cheeks and ran through his hair, strawberry earrings swaying at the breeze.

“Are you tired?” You whispered, the trance broken between the two of you. He murmured something along the lines of not wanting to go the his room yet, though the dark tint under his eyes betrayed him. You hesitated, “You can lay down if you like,” The blonde rose a brow, quietly hoping the lack of room didn’t mean your departure. But when you patted your blanketed thighs he understood, blood rushing to his cheeks. “It’s almost a pillow, a lot more comfortable than sitting up.” You prayed, prayed he didn’t laugh or scoff. The pause made you nervous, but he replied before you could take back the offer.

“I couldn’t...Then you’d be sitting.” Fugo kicked himself for considering the offer and turning it over so many times in his mind. He wanted to, his tired back ached to, but Fugo wasn’t used to any kind of affection, and dejecting it seemed the easiest for his pride. But a smile rose to your kind face, and he was once again filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t mind, really. You look like you need it.” The expression on your face made his heart pound, the boy stared. Eventually Fugo sighed, and his frantic mind finally surrendered, the chamomile aiding his tired conscious to just accept it. He gulped and mumbled in agreement, slowly sinking into the comfort of your lap. Your own heart quickened at the sight, watching the tension leave the troubled teen. Your fingers hesitantly landed on his golden hair, running through the waves as the boy sighed in relief underneath your touch, you couldn’t help but smile and stare.

The night went on, the sky dark enough to show a fuller potential of its stars. You hummed, still running caring hands through Fugo’s hair. Your heart nearly sunk as he shifted, face looking up at you. He’d dozed off only ten minutes or so, the thought brought a small frown to your face. Though when he didn’t sit up, you heart rose again. After a bit of silence,

“Why are you so nice to me?” You were slightly taken aback, did you really need a reason to be? You supposed that was just how Fugo’s brain worked. Not being able to take without giving or losing and vice versa, you wondered if he always badgered himself for reasoning in scenarios that felt natural like this. Must everything follow rules, must everything have consequence? Your tired mind wished against it.

 “Because, I care about you, lots actually.” The raise in his brow and widened eyes made you heart throb, a blush settled on his cheeks again as you stroked his hair, a thumb brushing lightly across his freckles.

“Wh...why?” You almost chuckled at that.

“Well I was hoping you cared for me too but...” Before Fugo could panic at the supposed misunderstanding and sit up, you placed a hand on his chest. You couldn’t muster the words to explain yourself, at least not yet. You settled for holding his cheek, and leaving a peck on his temple. The action was performed as graceful as possible, as not to startle him, but on the inside you were practically vibrating. “Let’s sleep now, alright?” He seemed stunned, and you burned the cute expression into your memories before pulling away further, and leaning back into the arm of the chair. “Buona notte, Fugo.” You got a quiet response, but a response no less, falling asleep on the terrace with the boy you cherished and managed to soothe.

—✧—

[ghostburs-blue]

Peace Is Momentary

Summary: soulmate!au where your soulmate will appear to you in a time of need. Spencer’s gone 20 years without meeting his; so has y/n. What will happen when fate finally connects them together?

Warnings: angst if you squint, nothing else really

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: this might become a series if people like it enough!! we’ll see ;)

Spencer knows there’s a chance he’ll never meet his soulmate. He knows the statistics, he’s done the research. Yet, he always feels a little bit better at the thought that someone was made just for him, someone who’ll stay with him through it all.

Of course, he assumed he would have found his soulmate much earlier in life. Most people found theirs when they were as young as 16, though always in the same fashion. Spencer was turning 22, 6 years older than the average age of finding your one true love.

Your soulmate would come to you in a time when you need them the most; when your soul calls out to its other half in a cry for help.

Every time Spencer broke down or cried, whether it be over a case at work, his mother’s condition, or quite literally anything else, he prayed that his soulmate would magically appear in front of him. Alas, the cards simply haven’t been in his favor.

Unknown to Reid, about 20 minutes away, you were in the exact same predicament. All of your life, you had waited to find your soulmate. When your parents passed in your high school years, there was a small part of you that was hoping you would find your soulmate right then and there. That... didn’t exactly work out.

You had moved in with your aunt and uncle in a different city and had turned into the epitome of a rebellious child. You wore clothes your modest family would have a heart attack upon seeing, listened to music the church choir you were a part of would scoff at. However, if there was one thing you were good at, it was school.

You didn’t have a ton of money growing up, so you worked harder than anyone you knew to get scholarships to college. You juggled a full time job at your local coffee shop while still in school to get your engineering degree, and boy was it tiring.

“Excuse me lady? I’ve been waiting for 10 fucking minutes. What have I got to do to get a coffee already?” A man with a thick (Boston?) accent leered at you. You groaned internally, proceeding to plaster a much too bright smile on your face in an attempt to hide your obvious disdain for him.

“So sorry sir! Your cold brew will be coming right up,” you exclaimed cheerily, though you felt anything but. Turning away from him, you let your hands fly over the coffee machine to make a drink you’ve made a thousand times over. Your mind starts to wander as you brew the espresso. Did you even have a soulmate? What if they hate you? What if they’re dead? What if-

Your thoughts were cut short as the espresso machine beeps, jolting you back to reality. You quickly finish off the cup, gratefully sliding it across the bar to the rude man waiting close by. You turned around and caught your coworker’s bemused expression; you were too tired to complain.

-

Spencer frowned as he gazed at the crime scene photos. What wasn’t clicking?

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Emily’s heels clacking on the linoleum floor. He turned with his chin resting on his hand to see her wearing a pitying look on her face. In one hand, she held a cup of coffee.

He reached out, pointing to the styrofoam cup. “Is that for me?” Spencer asked, secretly hoping it wasn’t so he could get some rest.

Thankfully, Emily shook her head. “No, Reid.” She sighed, looking back up at him sadly. “Listen, I know you really want to solve this case. Don’t get me wrong, we all do. But you’ve been awake for what? 30 hours straight? You might be a genius but even Einstein needed rest,” she finished. Before Reid could protest, she lifted a hand. “Go back to your hotel room and sleep. That’s a direct order from Hotch.”

Spencer frowned unhappily at the brunette in front of him, but he knew when the conversation was over. Grabbing some files he was fully planning to mull over on the comfort of his stiff hotel mattress, he brushed past Emily and headed towards his car.

-

After a long shift, you groaned as you pushed open the door to your tiny apartment. Immediately, you stripped off your clothes and headed straight for the shower in an attempt to scrub off the now nauseating scent of coffee.

Emerging 20 minutes later with bright red and freshly exfoliated skin, you felt like you were about to collapse at any second. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

-

Reid sat on the bed, papers and crime scene photos splayed out in front of him. The heels of his hands dug into his eyes as he tried to prevent tears from running down his unshaven cheeks.

-

You wake with a start, sweating slightly. Looking around, you frown. This isn’t your hotel room, you think to yourself, confused. You gasped when you noticed a man sitting on the bed, looking like he hadn’t slept in months. His clothes were misshapen, hair messy and clearly not brushed. He was boyishly handsome, you decided with a satisfied nod.

The gasp you let out caused him to look up; you both realized what was happening at the same moment.

“You’re my soulmate,” Spencer breathed out, at the same time you muttered “Oh my fucking god.”

For a few more moments, both stared at each other, unsure how to act and what to do.

Reid made the first move, awkwardly scooting over slightly and clearing his throat, patting the now empty space next to him.

You quietly shuffled over, perching politely on the edge of the bed.

“So um... where are you right now?” You offered, genuinely curious as to why he was in a hotel room in seemingly the middle of nowhere.

Spencer laughed. “I uh- I guess it’s a long story,” his voice trailed off slightly as he noticed the look you gave him, the one that said Really?. “I guess that was a stupid thing to say,” he mumbled.

You laughed, hitting his arm gently. “Don’t worry about it. For now, we have all the time in the world.”

And so the night progressed; Reid told you all about working at the BAU and you told him all about, well, working at a coffee shop. You quickly found out Spencer was a literal genius, and you, completely serious of course, asked if he would do all your homework for you. (Spoiler alert: he said no because it “goes against his morals”. What does that even mean???)

You could feel yourself fading as Spencer got happier and happier. You both seemed to realize you didn’t have much time left. You grabbed his hand, staring deep into his eyes. You could feel yourself leaning in, Reid too-

“Wait!” You exclaimed, and the two of you jumped apart. “What’s your name?” You asked breathlessly.

“Oh!” He replied, seemingly surprised that you two had never exchanged names. What he didn’t know, however, was that you were slipping away from him much faster than either of you could have realized. “It’s Sp-“

And just like that, you were gone. You woke up in your own bed to find it was morning, sunlight streaming through your windows. Racking your brain, you tried to remember what he said his name was. Unfortunately, all you could remember was the short 2 letters you heard before you vanished. He hadn’t even gotten your name! How was he supposed to find you now?

-

Across the country, Spencer woke up with his head pounding. Bleary eyed, he tried to make sense of what just happened. He met his soulmate, then lost her just as fast. He didn’t even get her name!, Reid kicked himself.

-

The next few days for the both of you seemed like hell. You found out it was practically impossible to find records of government employees, especially from divisions like the BAU. You grew increasingly frustrated while scouring through database after database.

Spencer had immediately called Garcia, but made her swear to keep it a secret. He attempted to give her an idea of what you looked like, only to hear the disappointed sound of Penelope’s voice letting him know that she had a list of about 10,000 people who fit the description. Of course, knowing Penelope, no secret ever stayed a secret for long. No more than a few hours later he was met with a chorus of congratulations from his fellow colleagues, including Morgan’s “I knew you had it in you!”, which was met with a sad frown as Spencer explained the unlucky situation.

Unfortunately, nothing much happened after that. You gave up your search on this mystery man, he did the same. Every day, however, you both woke up and hoped today would be that one special day where they found each other again. Every day, they were met with another heart wrenching disappointment, until one fateful afternoon.

Your back ached as you scrubbed down the counter for what felt like the thousandth time that day. It had been a few years since what you liked to call “the incident”, and you liked to keep it out of your head at this point. You were now in grad school, in a different city. You still worked at a coffee shop, though this one was much more busy and frankly much more stressful.

You stretched slightly, pulling your arms up in the air as you readjusted your torso. You turned when you heard your coworker call your name; he was going to take a break. You nodded at him, letting him know you would take over for him.

There was a lull in the customers in the shop, which made sense considering it was 2:00 on a Tuesday afternoon.

You decided to make the most of the break and started to clean the espresso machine in front of you. As you grabbed a dish cloth from the sink, you heard bells in the doorway tinkle slightly as the door was pushed open.

You looked up with your customer service grin automatically painted on, ready to greet the customer. The welcome died on your lips, however, as you realized who it was. It was him.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized something else; he was kissing a girl who was definitely not you.

You forced yourself to walk over to the cash register, clearing your throat to break the intense lip-locking session apart. A faint look of annoyance crossed Spencer’s face as he looked up at who interrupted them.

His first reaction was exactly what you thought it would be. He froze slightly, then slowly walked up to the register with what looked like a death grip on his (girlfriend’s?) hand.

Though it was the girl who spoke, you found your attention kept flitting to the man next to her. You couldn’t tell if she was oblivious, or just didn’t care.

He had... changed to say the least. Stubble covered the bottom portion of his face, and his hair had grown out. His cheekbones looked more defined, and he walked with an aura of confidence that he didn’t have before. Still, you had to admit he looked very handsome.

You were shaken out of your stupor when you felt the gaze of the girl. She looked at you with, was that impatience? You asked for her payment and her name, Stacy, noting it down on both cups before you took her credit card.

You hurried around behind the bar in an attempt to give them the drinks as quickly as possible and get them to leave. How were you supposed to talk to him now? He literally has a girlfriend!

You finished making the two coffees and set them on the counter, calling out her name to let her know the drinks were ready.

“One nitro cold brew for you, and one iced vanilla latte for him,” you handed over the drinks directly to each of them, making a point to shift Spencer’s drink slightly, causing him to look down. He caught your drift as he noticed a little extra writing underneath Stacy’s name.

His girlfriend grabbed his hand, throwing a quick and insincere “thank you!” over her shoulder at you as they left the store. You slumped against the sink, grabbing the countertop with your hands. What in Gods’ green Earth was this?

-

Outside, Spencer finally got the chance to look at the cup. He smiled as he read what you had scribbled on there.

Underneath your phone number, you had written, “It’s a really long story but I hope you have the time. Let’s talk soon?”

-

It was nearing 9 pm when you were starting to lose all hope. What if you made a mistake, and that wasn’t actually your soulmate? You shoved a pillow over your face with irritation and groaned, collapsing onto the sofa next to your phone. As you lay in silence, you heard a noise. Your phone was vibrating.

Sitting up quickly, you picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You asked breathlessly.

A familiar amused chuckle rang on the other end of the line.

“Hi, soulmate.”

[mctherofdragons]

In the Afterglow | 3 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy​.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: ANGST,  mentions of extramarital affairs, cheating, mentions of infertility/miscarriage, mentions of sex, cussing,  i think that’s it 

Author’s Note: I have to give a HUGE shout out to @starlightweasley because oh my gosh, she has been my sounding board for SO many ideas for this fic and i’m so thankful for that. I hope you all love this chapter, but I will say it’s a bit of a filler. Chapter 4 will be much more in depth and have action between the reader and Fred (including fluff). Also, please note the TWs for infertility and miscarriage, which were not TWs in previous chapters. XO. PS: If your name is in bold, i couldn’t tag you. 

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @sunflowernarry @vivianweasley @haf-the-trash-panda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @msmarklee1213 @n3ssm0nique @satellitespidey  @michaylahpfan27  @girl22334 @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @theweasleytwinsgirl @louist-pics @pigwidgexn @snehkaaay @slytherinbth @laurrrtyyy 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

December 25th. 

The Weasleys didn’t have all the money in the world for a lavish Christmas, but somehow, it was better to celebrate in their simple way. You sat on the sofa, your legs tucked beneath you comfortably. Taking a small sip of your hot cocoa, you watched as George stoked the fireplace. 

“Happy Christmas, y/n,” Molly said as she entered, opening her arms wide. You gave her a warm hug, feeling the happiness simply radiating off of her. But inside, your stomach was in knots. Last night’s kiss with Fred was still fresh in your mind. He, on the other hand, was still sleeping. 

You watched as Albus played on the floor with his new toys, looking over as George sat next to you. “Maybe next year...we’ll have another little Weasley on the way?,” Molly gave you a wink and you forced a smile. George put his arm around you. It made you feel ill. 

“Mum,” George sighed. “You know we’re trying.” “Ah, well, getting there is half the fun I always say,” Arthur chuckled, sitting down with his cup of coffee. 

“Arthur Weasley!,” Molly gasped. Again, the room filled with laughter. You snuggled further down into the sofa, glad to be distracted by the marshmallows swirling around in your mug. 

_______________________

5 years earlier, November. 

Gryffindor had won again, in no small part thanks to the Weasley twins. You took off running, your robes catching the wind behind you. You were practically bolting toward the twins as fast as you could. For a moment, Fred found himself smiling, allowing his mind to think you were running toward him. His forlorn face wasn’t apparent to you as you leaped immediately into George’s arms. You practically knocked George over as he twirled you around. 

He laughed, taking in the scent of your perfume. “Hi, poppet,” he laughed, setting you down. 

“My favorite beater,” you giggled, giving him a playful kiss. Leaning forward, you stood up on your tippy-toes to give his nose a little kiss. His whisper met your ear and you giggled. Fred had heard it, though, and he was sure George wasn’t even trying to be quiet. 

“C’mon up to my room, love,” he whispered. Then he turned to his twin. “Hey, Fred, make yourself busy for a while, eh?”

George grabbed your hand and you took off toward Gryffindor tower, your stomach bursting with excitement for some alone time with George. Fred felt his stomach sink, jealousy brewing somewhere deep within him. He threw his broom down, eliciting a shocked look from the keeper next to him. 

____________________________

Fred came down the stairs eventually. His red hair was tousled and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You caught yourself quickly, snuggling in closer to George. 

“Mornin, all. Happy Christmas, mum,” Fred gave Molly a little kiss on the forehead, heading over to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

“Well now that Fred has decided to arise from his slumber, we should get around to opening the rest of our presents, yes?” Ginny seemed annoyed with her brother, but that was not too unusual. 

Fred sat down on the floor, busying himself with sipping his coffee. Neither of you dared to look at one another. It occurred to you that maybe last night had been a dream, but then you felt the tiny rug burn on your lower back and knew it was real. Your sweater had lifted up while on the carpet with Fred, giving you a small scrape. 

Everyone busied themselves with opening their presents. Molly practically cried over every gift her children got her, including a framed photo of everyone from last Christmas. Meanwhile, George and Fred had gotten each other expensive bottles of whiskey, nearly dying in laughter that they both got the same thing for one another. 

Finally, George handed you a small black box and your heart fluttered. “For you, princess,” he grinned, giving you a small kiss. Something behind his eyes still felt distant, but you pushed your doubts away. You opened it up slowly, revealing a stunning vintage locket. It was eighteen karat gold and engraved with floral detail. It was no doubt madly expensive. It was stunning, the lights from the Christmas tree glinting off of its surface. You clicked the locket open, feeling yourself tear up at a picture of you both from your school days. 

“Oh,” you put your hand over your heart. George took the necklace from you and turned you around, fastening the clasp for you. Once he was back in front of you, he pulled him into a kiss. “I love it, George.” 

“Again, happy Christmas, love,” he gave your hand a squeeze. But you found yourself reaching up to touch the cold medal around your neck, secretly wishing a photo of Fred was inside. 

You looked up and caught eyes with the other twin. You stared for a moment, his brown eyes burrowing deep into yours. Fred broke his gaze. “I need a moment,” he mumbled, quickly rushing outside. 

“What’s got his goat?,” Ron said, stuffing a cookie into his mouth. Everyone shrugged, except for you. You felt your heart crack just a bit as you looked at the door which had just swung shut.

“I’ll go check on him,” you offered. No one suspected anything, of course. You were always kind to Fred. Each member of the family had assumed Fred was just stressed about the shop, as was usual, and needed some calming down. 

You headed out the back door, rounding the corner behind the Burrow. Fred was leaned against the small shed out back, tears streaming down his face. He saw you and buried his face into one of his hands, his other arm pulled across his abdomen. 

“Go back inside, y/n,” he sighed, using the sleeve of his sweater to wipe his eyes. 

You dared to step forward, moving his hand away. “Fred.”

“Please, go back inside,” he gently moved you away from him. 

But you pushed your luck again, stepping forward. He spun you around, kissing you with your back pressed against the cool wood of the shack. “Go back inside,” he repeated, the clouds of his breath floating up into the freezing air. A few tears remained on his cheeks, but they’d know somewhat rubbed off onto your cheeks. The winter breeze stung as it met the dampness. You kissed him again, and nothing about it was soft. When you and Fred kissed, it was as if you’d completely devour one another given the chance. Close was never close enough. He cupped your face in his hands, his forehead pressed tight to yours, your noses touching. “Go. Inside,” Fred repeated finally, and you slipped beneath his arms to head back toward the door. 

“You’d best come in before they start to worry,” you said quietly, thankful you had decided against wearing lipstick that day. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･

December 28th. 

George sat across from Fred, counting that day’s deposit. Fred had poured them both glasses of the whiskey from Christmas. This was something they occasionally enjoyed, basking in the happiness of just being brothers together. Usually, they talked about nothing in particular. World quidditch scores, or the latest movie they’d watched. But today, George seemed tenser. Fred hadn’t admitted it out loud, but he was partially nervous that George had suspected something. 

Fred tipped the bottle to top off his glass, taking a strong sip as George placed the deposit into the lockbox. He took his own swig, setting down his glass as he looked at his twin. 

“She’s driving me bloody mad, Fred,” he said finally, shaking his head. Fred raised an eyebrow, realizing George was about to start ranting about you. 

“Is that right?,” Fred adjusted his shirt a bit, undoing the top button. He was already nervous for what was to come, knowing any ill word against you would make his anger spark. 

“I mean, fuck, we’ve been trying for months now to get pregnant and she can’t. I know it isn’t her fault but, hell, it sucks, you know?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Fred said quietly, swirling his ice cubes around in his drink as he moved his glass. 

“And don’t even get me started on her being piss poor in bed, lately, neither,” George slammed back what was left of his whisky. He filled up his glass halfway again. 

Fred felt his blood pressure hit the ceiling as if someone had set a Whiz Bang off in his brain. 

“Ya know, I haven’t told anyone this, but she did get pregnant, a few months ago.” “How do you mean?” “Well, you know it….came away,” George frowned, feeling his throat get tight. “I just, ever since then, Fred. She doesn’t want to try anymore. I...I hate to admit this but, I’ve been...feeling less in love with her lately.” 

Fred stayed quiet, unable to form a coherent sentence that wouldn’t give himself away. You were perfect to him, and imagining you curled up on a bathroom floor, experiencing profound loss, broke his spirit. 

“It’ll all work out,” Fred gave George a friendly pat on the back. “C’mon, lets go down to the pub for a few with the boys, eh?” “Sure.” 

Fred left the conversation there, forbidding himself to venture any further. Two can keep a secret, but he tended to be rubbish at it.

He felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out of his pocket, smiling down at the screen. Your name had popped up with a short text message. 

Miss you. Meet tonight someplace?

[bratkook]

queen of broken hearts. jjk (m) part two.

Block my posts and my stories, I’m sorry I can be annoying, I go ghost without warning.

part one. part three.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: smut, heavy angst word count: 6k warnings: jungkook is still in lurv and oc is still a toxic bitch, mentions of infidelity, oral (m receiving), explicit photos being taken after said blowjob, jungkook cries a little but reverse uno cards oc ha author’s note: this was definitely not supposed to get a second part but for some reason i just couldn’t stop writing it so here it is. i might make a few more drabbles bc i like writing this toxic ass relationship but who knows lmk what u think byeeee

A frown is etched onto Jungkook’s face as he eyes his phone, his thumb constantly dragging the screen down until the loading circle appears and shows him the same screen thats been haunting him all day. 

No posts yet. 

That same line has him morbidly smiling to himself, how could you have no posts yet when he had just liked a selfie of your last night? 

Your profile picture in the top left corner mocks him, a mirror photo you took in a room he was all too familiar with. A room he hadn’t been inside of in over two weeks, which was a long time considering you usually called him over every other day. 

And now he was apparently blocked.

Jungkook racks his brain for anything he could’ve done, any words he might have let slip out in the throes of passion the last time he had seen you, but he comes up blank. He had done a good job so far keeping his emotions locked up and tucked away, never letting anything more slip out since he first met you years ago. 

Sure when he’s in the moment he absolutely wants to spill his heart out, serve it on a silver platter for you and hope its to your liking, but once the heat of it’s all gone and his mind settles he realizes that he missed his chance. His window of opportunity was long gone, the relationship you had now was too twisted, tangled up like roots of a tree that were running rampant, jutting up between the cracks of Jungkook’s sanity. 

Back when you first met, being the older sister of the boy he was tutoring, he had no idea that this was what would become of it. You took a liking to him instantly like a lioness latching onto her prey, something new and exciting for you to play with before you took a bite out of him. 

He was attractive that much was obvious, his hair was shorter then, giving him a slightly boyish charm that didn’t match his physique of broad shoulders and slim waist, his thick thighs stretching out his jeans in such a delicious way that made your mouth water. 

He noticed instantly when you’d linger around the kitchen while he was busy teaching your brother about the pythagorean theorem, mocking him in your low cut tops and tiny lounging shorts, offering him a popsicle as you suckled on one right in front of him. A giant flashing sign hanging over your head that showed him your intentions, showed him just what you were after when it came to him, and he walked right into it. 

Jungkook wasn’t inexperienced, having far too many notches on his bed post to explain why he was so god damn intimidated by you, so enamored by a girl who was clearly as cold as the ice pop you were making a show of sucking. 

You were filthy and shameless, turning the charm off the second your parents walked in or your brother turned around when he noticed Jungkook was distracted. The second anyone else became aware you’d tug your shirt up and your shorts down, giving your father a smile so sweet it would rot Jungkook’s teeth if he didn’t know the act behind it all. 

Jungkook still doesn’t know if he’s thankful for the chain of events that lead to you two sleeping together for the first time, he doesn’t know if he’d take it all back to save himself the torment his heart was currently going through. 

Would he have changed his course of action? Chosen to leave immediately after tutoring your brother instead of running up to the bathroom before leaving? 

You weren’t even on his mind then, you had been taunting him earlier but after fifteen minutes you retreated into your room, leaving him to focus entirely on being the tutor your parents were paying him good money to be. 

So when he pushes the bathroom door open and sees you standing absolutely naked with your wet hair dripping down your body and not an ounce of embarrassment written on your face, he doesn’t even realize he’s shut the door behind him until he hears the soft click of the lock. 

You had been loosely planning this all day,  hoping he’d end up in your room, but when you heard him trekking up the stairs and towards the bathroom you yanked off your towel and unlocked the door in record time, a tiny oops leaving your mouth when you see his wide eyes. 

Jungkook groans into his palms now as he recalls it, how he had taken you on top of your bathroom counter, knocking over the toothbrush holder and soap onto the floor in a loud clatter, the way you had refused to kiss him during it even then, choosing to suck hickeys onto his neck to muffle your cries of pleasure as he stretched you open. 

He still remembers the guilt he felt when he exited the bathroom and said goodbye to your brother as if he hadn’t just fucked you raw inside your bathroom when you two had barely spoken a word to each other. 

Jungkook should’ve spoken up then, right at the beginning of this all, but instead he let his dick control everything, allowing this to continue. 

You had no complaints, getting dicked down by a man as beautiful as Jungkook with no strings attached was god sent, choosing to keep him around even as he stopped tutoring your brother, even after you moved out of your parents’ house and into a place of your own. 

Jungkook felt the first spark of hope in his chest at you keeping him around, the possibility that maybe this was more than just sex, more than a quick fix. But then he started noticing the texts to your phone that you’d get while he was balls deep inside of you, different boys with different hearts lined up at the end of it. Thats when he began trying to convince himself that he was just confused about his feelings, that all of this was just lust. 

He was wrong. Obviously. 

If all he felt was lust he wouldn’t be so upset over being blocked from your instagram. It wasn’t even as if you two interacted on the app, never dming each other, you’d occasionally like the thirst trap gym photos he’d post just to get your attention whereas he’d like every single post of yours. 

His finger hovers over your contact name now, opening up your thread of messages and seeing the last one being from him two weeks ago. A simple “i’m outside” text after you had invited him over. 

His digits swirl on top of the screen, desperate to shoot you a text, wanting to come across as casual in asking why you blocked him but how could he ask that without exposing that he frequently checked your page.

“No.” He grumbles under his breath, carding his fingers through his long hair and choosing to text his friends instead. An invitation to meet at a diner near by for some greasy food and good conversation, something Jungkook desperately needed right now. 

Taehyung and Jimin don’t know about you, none of his friends do so when they push through the entrance of Mel’s and he spots the reason for his distraught emotions he can’t even explain to his friends why they need to sit at the furthest booth from you. 

You don’t spot him, you were too busy staring at the boy in front of you with heart eyes he wishes could be aimed at him. A straw is between your teeth as you slurp on your milkshake, covering your mouth to laugh loudly at something the purple haired boy said. 

It only irritates him further, his fingers gripping the edges of the menu so hard they pale in color. He knew this was the boy that had text you last time, the purple hearts matching the color of his hair perfectly. Was this why you had blocked him?

“You alright?” Taehyung speaks up, noticing the turmoil brewing on his friend’s face, the way his brows were pinched together, the indent on his forehead deepening every time your laugh filled the diner. 

“Yeah.” Jungkook breathes, hoping the simple lie sounds more believable out in the open than in his head.  He sets the menu down with care, trying to shake the feeling inside of him before it spread throughout him, morphing into something ugly and green. You didn’t owe him anything, he tells himself, you could do whatever you wanted. 

Jimin eyes him carefully, catches on to the way he continues to glance at the corner of the room every now and then. His curiosity gets the best of him so he turns to look over his shoulder and spots you, and you must sense the attention because your eyes move from the purple haired boy over to Jungkook’s booth. Jimin instantly turns around at being caught but its too late, he had been spotted and in turn so had Jungkook. 

You continue to slurp on your shake, allowing Namjoon to feed you some fries from his plate while you stare at Jungkook, calling him mentally and hoping he’d look over so you could give him a smile and wave as if you hadn’t ghosted him with no warning. 

He can feel your piercing gaze, how you refuse to look away until he stares back but he wont give you that, he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of seeing the way his face crumbles at you being with another guy after throwing him to the curb. Instead he chooses to continue staring at his straw wrapper like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

His friends can sense his discomfort, not commenting on it and allowing him to guide the conversation until he’s relaxing in his booth, stuffing his face with food until the Jungkook they know reveals himself once more, all smiles and laughs instead of the moping version of himself he was earlier. 

That same Jungkook lingers for a while after leaving the diner, a new set of determination in his mind to move on. You had gone ahead and blocked him, did the first part for him and if that wasn’t a sign for him to pack up his feelings and take a hike then he doesn’t know what was. 

He finds himself glad he hadn’t asked you for coffee two weeks ago, his nerves getting the best of him being the saving grace for what would’ve been further embarrassment. If you had said yes out of pity only to block him before even going out he probably would’ve dug himself a grave and face planted right into it. 

For the first time in a very long time he finds himself not thinking of you, resuming his earlier activities of dating the girls who pursued him. He hadn’t realized how much of you consumed him until he was with someone else, kissing a girl who was kissing him because she wanted to, not because she was trying to muffle a confession she knew was coming. 

By the fourth week Jungkook is proud of himself, applauding his strength for not succumbing to you, caving and texting you for an explanation. He wasn’t weak. 

He wasn’t. 

Until his phone dings with a notification. 

His hand freezes on its way to his mouth, cheeto dust coating his finger from snacking while he binge watched random shows on Netflix. Jungkook doesn’t know whats waiting for him as he licks his fingers before grabbing his phone, the cheeto dust going down the wrong pipe as he saw your name flashing on his phone in the form of an instagram notification. 

He pounds on his chest with his fist, uncapping his water and gulping it down to get rid of the scratchy feeling now lingering in his throat. 

You had just followed him. 

You followed him again after blocking him weeks ago. 

Jungkook just stares at the screen until it fades to black, his own reflection looking back at him until he lights it up once more to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. His finger swipes the screen to unlock it, checking the notification and seeing that you had in fact unblocked him and refollowed him, your grid of photos filling up the screen in a way they weren’t before. 

He was at a loss of what to do, just staring at your profile, the blue follow button taunting him, begging to be pressed, pleading for him to once again get sucked under your spell. 

You must be watching your notifications, waiting to see any new activity on your page because the second Jungkook follows you back you’re shooting him a text faster than he can blink, not being able to take back what he did before his phone is buzzing with a message. 

Jungkook is faced with a realization at this, he was in fact very weak. 

His brain works on its own accord, opening up your thread of messages and seeing the new one sitting nice and pretty in the bottom left corner. 

y/n 10:48pm : hey kookie, you busy?

He eyes the message for a few minutes, not knowing what to respond with. Was he busy? Technically if you considered a netflix binge to be important. But that stupid voice in the back of his head, the one that sent him to your beck and call speaks up, loud and clear, yelling at him to text back and say he always had time for you. 

jungkook 10:53pm : oh hey, no whats up!

jungkook 10:53pm : *?

The three dots of you typing pop up instantly only giving him seconds to prepare before your message swoops in. 

y/n 10:53pm : wanna come over? i’ll make it worth your while

Suggestive emojis finish off the message and he wants to slap himself when his dick stirs to life at the thought of what you’d do to make it worth it after the hell you’ve put him through recently. 

It’s just lust. That’s all this is, thats the only reason he send you a text saying he was on his way so fast theres a typo in it, getting to your apartment faster than he ever has. 

When you swing the door open you shock him when you wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a kiss, its messy, mostly tongue and teeth as you tug at the hair along the nape of his neck in desperation. 

It takes Jungkook a minute to react to it, you were kissing him, something you’d never allowed him to do during sex. He wonders what this meant, a small bite to his lip being what snaps him out of it and forces him into action. 

His large hands wrap around your waist, tugging you closer to him before he hauls you up, getting you to hook your legs on his hips as he blindly guides you towards your bedroom, a route he knows very well. 

“You got here fast.” You breathe out as you pull away, laughing when he chases after your lips, getting a taste of the way they feel during the heat of the moment he wanted more of it, wanted to swallow down your moans in ways he’s never been able to before. 

“You told me you’d make it worth my while.” He plays it off, latches his lips onto your neck as he throws your bedroom door open, walking the both of you towards your bed and letting you flop down onto it. 

“Did you miss me.” You tease, an evil glint in your eye as you kneel on the bed, your hands resting on his shoulders while you stare at him like the innocent angel you aren’t. 

“You blocked me.” He huffs, allowing you to slide his shirt off even though he was still upset about that, tossing it behind you without a care. You move onto your own shirt, an oversized grey shirt that belongs to Namjoon but you’d never tell Jungkook that, either way his attention lands on your exposed tits, the shirt and who it belongs to not even crossing his mind now that he had an eyeful of your pert chest. 

“No I didn’t.” You lie so effortlessly, having the motions down to a science. The tilt of your head, the squinting of your eyes that painted an image of you not knowing what he was talking about. The slight lift in your tone in what he mistakes as genuine confusion is what starts the swirls of doubt in his brain. You knew though, you knew very well that you had indeed blocked him. 

“Yeah you did.” He pushes, trying to lean in to kiss you again but you seemed to be over that, the initial neediness you felt leaving you and he feels the sting he hadn’t felt in a long time. Jungkook pushes it away and chooses to let his mouth kiss your jaw and begin sucking on your neck once more. 

“Hm, no I didn’t Kookie.” Your voice sounds so sure, so confident that it has him second guessing himself. Had you really blocked him or had he just gotten it mixed up? 

His lips pause on your skin from his inner debate and you know you need to move this along before he questions you further, pulls out a screenshot of him clearly being blocked with no chance of deniability. 

“Let me make this worth your while like I said, that sound good?” You ask, smiling when he nods against your skin, the topic of whether or not you blocked him leaving his mind, destined to come back again once he’s at home laying in bed and having a crisis. 

Jungkook’s mind short circuits when you reach for his pants, your hands palming the growing bulge contained in them, begging to be taken care of because it’s been so long. 

“Yeah, yeah okay.” He stutters out, letting himself get moved around until he was sat on the edge of your bed while you hopped off. Jungkook takes it upon himself to yank his jeans off, his hunger for you taking over, wanting to move this forward until you were sinking down on his cock, the pleasure clouding his common sense. He needed that because he was having an inner debate on if this was a good idea or not. 

You fall to your knees it front of him after shimmying out of your shorts, a surprising turn of events that he doesn’t see coming judging by the look on his face. That same teasing laugh is sent his way as you tug at his black briefs, his hips lifting off the bed to slip them off, his cock springing free and he sighs at no longer being confined. 

You lick your lips over as you stare at his cock, the thickness of it making your mouth water as you trace the pretty veins wrapped around it with your eyes, leading up to his red tip, leaking beads of precum. 

Jungkook groans when you wrap your hand around his length, the second you texted him he was half hard, aching and needy for release of any kind. He swears he could cum then and there when you noisily spit into your other palm, gliding it up his length to spread the wetness around and starting a slow rhythm. 

“Feel good?” You ask innocently, faux sweetness he knows far too well dripping from your tongue, thick like syrup and he finds himself wanting to lap it up. 

Jungkook knows you’re getting a kick out of it, watching the way you’re biting on your lip and smiling when his face screws up at being touched, the slow pumping of your hands only teasing him and pushing his head further under the stream of pleasure  

“Shit, yeah.” He mumbles out, his stomach hiccuping when you lean forward and let a glob of spit land on the head of his cock, the way it drips down his length and pools at your hands as you continue your motion only serves to send Jungkook deeper into a frenzy. 

It’s not until you finally take him into your mouth, slow and gentle as if you didn’t like to deep throat his cock until you’re choking, that Jungkook lets a moan finally slip through the gates of his teeth. It urges you on, the first rock being thrown at his glass exterior, a tiny sliver of a crack exposing itself and giving you a way in again. 

Jungkook forgets how to breathe for a minute, his mouth slack jawed as he watches in awe at the way you sink your mouth further onto his length. Your pretty lips pulled tightly around his girth, your cheeks hollowing up as you suck your way back up with a noisy slurp. 

“So good.” He groans out, his hand creeping its way around you until he had a fistful of your hair in his grip. Jungkook smiles now when you go lax in his hands, your mouth widening up when he starts to push your head down, his cock nudging along your throat and making you gag, muscles spasming around him but he doesn’t relent until your nose is nuzzled along the small patch of hair around the base of his cock. 

He sighs out, feeling as if the balance of everything had been restored now that you were kneeling pliant between his legs, mouth stuffed with cock, not being able to fuck with his mind with your sweet sounding lies and convincing eyes. 

When he finally pulls you off of him you gasp in a breath, wet and stuck to your throat, your eyes watering up from being choked but the arousal dripping down your thighs showed how much you loved it. Jungkook pouts at you, a clear sense of mockery in it and it makes you want to laugh at how the tables turned. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb smearing the drool around your mouth and making a bigger mess of it all. 

“What, thats it?” He taunts, his eyebrow raising up as you roll your lips together, “You choke on my dick and forget how to make this worth my while?”

His words make you squeeze your thighs together, seeking any sort of friction to ease the pressure building in your core. You loved when Jungkook got like this, flipped a switch in the middle of it and bossed you around, it was the main reason you enjoyed pushing his buttons, wanting to get him to the point where he’d do it back to you. 

“No.” You rasp out, your head lolling to the side as your tongue glides along your lips, visions of tied up cherry stems and sharp words trailing behind it. 

“Show me then.” He orders, thighs spreading further apart as his hand gestures for you to get to it, for you to show him exactly why you called him over. 

As you sink back onto his cock, he wonders if the reason you invited him today was because one of your boy toys had flaked on you, left you high and dry and you needed a fix like you always did. Another part of him wonders if you finally messaged him to keep him close, to not let him stray too far away from you, leave him open and available for you whenever you decided he was needed. 

Jungkook seemed to be getting the good end of this deal right now, whatever it may be so he rides it through, letting grunts of pleasure slip through the seam of his lips when you find the right pace. Your hands word in tandem with your mouth, twisting and pumping in unison. 

He begins rocking his hips up towards your face, a crooked smile on his face at the mess you’re making on his cock, he likes it too much. The wet thump of your fist pumping down, the way you slurp on his length like it was that damn popsicle you used to taunt him with. 

“So fucking dirty.” Jungkook’s voice is husky now, drawn out while he lets himself get lost in it all, heavy with the lust clouding his brain. His words just encourage you, working past the aching feeling in your jaw as you try your best, needing a distraction from the night you’ve had and thats what Jungkook was best for. 

The simmering warmth he feels growing in his gut starts to boil over when you grasp one of his balls, your fingers fondling them in a teasing motion before you switch off and latch your mouth around them instead. 

Jungkook can only curse under his breath, his fingers weaving through your hair once more and tugging at the strands, feeling you moan against his skin at the sting on pain at your scalp. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum–“ Jungkook warns, trying to pull you away from him but you stay put, your hands continuing the motions your mouth was no longer doing, “Don’t you want me to fuck you?” He wonders, if he came now you’d have to wait a while before he was ready to go again and he knew you weren’t the most patient person. 

“No, wanna make you feel good.” Is all you mumble out before slipping his length back into your mouth. The warmth that envelops his cock has him groaning out once more, his mouth dropped open as his chest heaved at the oncoming orgasm.  

“Ah,” he whines when you sink all the way down until your nose nuzzles against his skin, “where do you want me to cum?”

It’s breathless and needy, making you pop off of him with a sultry smile, “My face.”

Jungkook nods, half delirious as he stands up on his weakening legs and fists his cock, the spit lathered on it helping him glide as fast as he needed to. The way you’re sat in front of him, your palms pressed to your thighs, mouth wide open with your tongue sticking out and your eyes locked onto him, sends his mind reeling. 

The angry tip of his cock peaks out with every pump of his fist, only needing a few more flicks of his wrist before his stomach was caving in and flexing as he came. 

Jungkook lets out strangled moan, thick ropes of cum streaming out and landing in globs on your face in short spurts. Your eyes fluttering shut when you feel it land on your cheek, your nose, and dripping down onto your awaiting tongue. 

He’s panting above you as he comes down, his hand raking through his own hair as he tries to calm his breathing down, the tingling feeling spread throughout his body dulling down. When your eyes blink up at him, he can just tell you’re up to something when you stick your tongue back in your mouth and swallow, an evil smirk spreading across your cum streaked face. 

“Here let me grab you a towel.” He starts to move towards your bathroom but your palm reaches out to grab his thigh, stopping him in his tracks. 

“No, do me a favor.” You ask him in that tone that made him shiver, your hand pointing at your desk, right at the white polaroid camera you had propped on top of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what you’re planning but he reaches for it anyways, handing you the device only to have you thrust it back in his hands. 

“Take a photo of me.” You say it so sweetly, like you’re asking him to take a photo of you smiling with flowers in your hair. 

Jungkook’s face twists up in confusion. You wanted a photo of yourself covered in his cum. You were definitely planning something and it was clear now that Jungkook was an accessory to all of this. 

Still he nods and points the camera down at you, begging his slowly softening dick to not spur back to life at the face you give him. Your hair’s messy from his hands yanking at it, your eyes wide and innocent as you scoop some of the cum off your cheek and pop it into your mouth for the photo. 

The flash goes off and you hum around your digit, slipping it out of your mouth as Jungkook grabs the exiting photo from the top of the camera. 

He sets it all down and is ready to go about the routine the way you always did but you stop him once more, “Wait, take another one.”

And like clockwork Jungkook obeys, the hex you had on him controlling his motions until he has the camera in his grasp a second time. He presses it against his eye and looks down at you, a strained gasp leaving him when you grab his sensitive cock and let the tip of it slip into your mouth. 

His fingers press on the shutter button immediately, capturing the moment on a little rectangle of film, the flash filling the room. When he goes to hand it to you all you do is shake your head and stand up on your sore legs. 

“Keep it.” You shrug, pulling your hair up into a pony tail and reaching for the other photo on your bed sheets. 

“I don’t think your boyfriend would like that.” It slips out without warning, an unknowing jab sent your way and Jungkook’s eyes widen at the words he just said as he steps into his jeans after slipping his underwear back on. 

You freeze as well, the grey shirt that belonged to the man he was talking about feeling heavy on your frame. “You mean Namjoon?” You question, not an ounce of shame in your words, knowing very well that Jungkook had spotted you out with him a few weeks ago. 

The name feels bitter on your tongue, trying your best not to let your distaste show on your face as you stare at him. Jungkook didn’t need to know that Namjoon had called it quits with you, the sneaking suspicion that you were messing around with someone else being too strong. It was the main reason you blocked Jungkook on instagram, he had become prime suspect number one thanks to the way he bombarded your photos. 

You needed to keep your distance from Jungkook in order to keep your relationship with Namjoon afloat, at least in the beginning, then you could go back to your routine. But Namjoon was too observant, and all it took was finding a pair of underwear that didn’t belong to him slipped under your bed for the mirage to come crumbling down around you. 

It angered you more because you had been careful, stopped sleeping around, but because Jungkook had left a pair of underwear weeks ago in his haste to leave it became a chain reaction the lead to Namjoon slamming the door behind him as he left your place a while before Jungkook stumbled his way through. 

That was too much information to tell Jungkook, you didn’t want to give him the impression that you searched for his comfort in the form of physical touch after your boyfriend left you. You didn’t need him to know that he was the only constant in your life, slot in between every failed relationship, maintaining his spot as the one you called to when you needed a distraction. 

Jungkook’s eyes narrow at the name, remembering the flashing ‘joonie’ on your phone screen. He only gives you a nod in response, his confusion deepening when you laugh. 

“He’s just a friend.” You lie through your teeth, setting the photo you knew you’d be sending him later onto your desk, grabbing a small towel you had and wiping your face clean with it. 

Jungkook doesn’t fully believe you but he doesn’t fight it, choosing to finish getting dressed in silence. If he was just a friend and was able to get you to go out on a date with him that what were Jungkook’s chances? What were the odds that his own name wasn’t some cute version of ‘kookie’ with an obscene amount of hearts at the end of it?

That was all wishful thinking though, he knew deep down that his name was just a plain and simple Jungkook, he knew the minute he’d ask you to go have lunch you’d ghost him like you did before. 

You watch him curiously as he puts his shoes on, seeing the way his mind was working on overdrive, overthinking everything and talking himself into circles. You needed him to stay close, to not let him get a taste of what life would be like without you so you approach him with that same saccharine smile. 

“Thanks Kookie.” You whisper out, cupping his cheek and leaning up on your toes to press a gentle kiss goodbye on his lips. He kisses back instantly, needing to feel more, wanting to wrap his arms around you like he did earlier but that was gone now and you were stepping back too quickly. 

A small yawn escapes your lips and he gets the hint, stuffing the dirty polaroid into his jean pocket and giving you a half smile, “Yeah of course, I’ll see you later Y/N.”

You flop onto your bed and wave at him as he exits your room but once the door shuts behind him you flip onto your stomach and groan loudly into your pillow, unaware that Jungkook could still hear you from his spot in the hallway. 

He decides not to open the door back up and check on you, making a swift exit and rushing to get into his car like he was running from something. And in a way he was.

Now that he’s confined inside his vehicle he slips the photo out of his pocket, turning the overhead lighting on to look at it properly now that it was developed. 

Your eyes were half lidded as you stared into the camera, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock while the tip of it prodded at your cheek, face covered in ribbons of his cum. It was the most explicit photo he’d ever had and he can’t even let himself get excited over it. Instead he opens up his center divider and stuffs the photo into there before slamming it shut. 

He pulls out of his parking spot and takes off back home, that hollow feeling in his chest returning when he remembers the words you told him today. He knows you were lying to him, Jungkook wasn’t stupid, but he just doesn’t understand what he did for you to constantly treat him this way. 

He feels the stinging at the back of his eyes, the streetlights becoming blurry at the edges as his vision got misty. An idea pops into his head so he pulls over onto a random corner, blinking away the tears before they could fall as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He knew what he had to do, for his own sanity.

You two weren’t right for each other, he was tired of being this puppet on strings for you to play with until you got bored and moved on to the next shiny new thing. Jungkook was sick of dreaming about taking you out, sick of wondering what lies you’d tell him next because you knew he was wrapped so tightly around your finger that he could never fight you on it. 

So he opens up instagram and goes to your page instantly, not letting himself think twice before he’s clicking on the block button, locking his phone and throwing it on the passenger seat before resuming his drive home, begging himself not to succumb to you once again.

And as you sit on your bed at home, scrolling through instagram and taking a peek at his page, knowing he usually posted an instagram story of whatever song he was listening to after leaving your apartment, you’re shocked to see the same words that haunted Jungkook for weeks. 

No posts yet. 

He had blocked you. For the first time in the years you’ve been fooling around you finally get a taste of the way you’ve been treating him. And as you sit in bed having the same dilemma he had before, wondering what you did or said, debating sending him a text, you feel the first twist in your heart that Jungkook had grown accustomed to and you don’t like it.