#and then closes the shutters in his room so the sUN DOESN'T GET IN HIS FACE WHEN HE WAKES UP

[lassieposting]

Concept:

Post-tadpole, Tav offers to help Astarion find a way to walk in the sun again, and she starts by going to different libraries and repositories and archives around the city to look for books that might be relevant. Astarion, obviously, has to stay in the rental room with the shutters closed during the daytime, so he can't come with her.

At some point, this takes her up to the posh part of the city, where the fancy ✨ scholarly ✨ archive is. She remembers most of the walk - it's not too far from the graveyard Astarion took her to, in the neighbourhood where he once used to live.

And like, it's never actually occurred to her that he could still have Actual Blood Relatives still living? It's not a topic she's ever thought to raise with him. But she has to sign in and out of the archive, and she just happens to notice the name three or four lines above hers: an initial and a surname she recognises.

Ancunín.

The same name from Astarion's gravestone.

A parent? A sibling?

A niece or nephew Astarion has never even met?

Thus begins a secondary quest of trying to reunite a broken family. Astarion is willing enough to talk about the few memories he still has of the thirty-nine years he had with his family before turning - a drop in the ocean compared to the 200 years spent suffering under Cazador - but he shuts down when she nudges him towards the likelihood that Mr & Mrs Ancunín are still alive. He retreats back behind the selfish, catty survivalist he was when she first met him and claims he has no interest in ever reconnecting. The pain in every clipped syllable says drop it, so she does.

But then he asks her, very quietly, several days later, what the initial was. He doesn't really react when she tells him - there's no obvious recognition, and he doesn't ask any follow-up questions or try to discuss it further. He just goes back to his book. She watches him out of the corner of her eye though, as she skim-reads her own giant tome of magical artifacts. A very long time goes by before she sees him turn a page.

For a good long while, the family issue gets put firmly on the back burner. They have other shit going on. Sometimes, it's following promising leads on a possible workaround for Astarion's sunlight allergy. Other times, it's the kind of ugly, ragged-edged breakdown that so often follows a period of relative safety and stability after a major trauma. He's been running in survival mode for two centuries, and now he's finally starting to feel secure enough for the rest of his mind to come back online, and all the trauma he couldn't handle at the time, all the pain and fear and tangled emotions survival mode was protecting him from, is catching up to him. During those sporadic episodes, trying to keep him from falling apart is her top priority and, well, time gets away from them and by the time he brings up his parents again, months or more have gone by, and they have a fairly good idea of what artifact of daywalking they need to find.

By the time it comes to actually meeting with them, still more months have passed, and they have already found it.

It's horrible, and heartwarming, and heartbreaking, and healing, and hurting, and so many other conflicting things that for a while - a long while - Tav doesn't know whether she actually did the right thing encouraging him to reach out to long-lost loved ones. It's a mess of moments that makes her heart ache for a dozen reasons. She finds out that Astarion looks most like his mother, but has his father's nose. She holds him for hours while he shakes and sobs into her shoulder because they never even left the city, they were here the whole time, and they never found him - and he's so angry and full of grief he doesn't know what to do with himself. She accompanies him to the home he was raised in, and the once-familiar surroundings jog memories he thought lost for good - he's glassy-eyed, recounting them to her, but she's fairly sure it's the good kind of glassy-eyed, so she doesn't mention it. She tries to make conversation at family dinner while he stares at his hands in his lap, dissociated, looking even more uncomfortable than she feels, utterly lost in a world that once fit him like a glove. There are a lot of feelings to try and mediate. They are all hurt, all damaged, all afraid, all looking for the ghost of a loved one in the face of a stranger.

But, eventually, there is a day where she overhears Astarion having a conversation with his father, and he sounds like himself - not the persona he puts on in public - and his father laughs at something he says in a way that's entertained rather than awkward. There is a day where his mother reaches out and he doesn't shake his head or step away - he lets her hug him goodbye. They have not slipped back into the graves they crawled out of in each other's lives - they are all very different people now - but they are learning new ways to fit together, and he seems to be pleased about it.

So she thinks, yeah, it was worth it.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion x tav #tavstarion #tav #so i saw a post mentioning that astarion's family could still be alive bc elves #and now i have Feelings #so!!!!! yells screams flings this into the void #also pry astarion having to start processing what hes been through once he's safe from my cold dead hands #also his poor folks lmao #his mother telling him that someone desecrated his grave not long after he died by digging it up #and then again recently by defacing it #and hes just 'actually both of those were me' #astarion ancunin

[itti-bitti-yibbi]

I wrote a little Moon comfort thing, it can be taken as romantic or platonic, I think.

For a lil bit of context, the reader is a nighttime security guard in a post-virus Pizzaplex, and they've known Moon for a while but they have never met Sun.

Reader is stressed and tired and Moon lets them cry and gives them a nap. :P

It's been a long fucking day. A long couple of days, if you're being honest. The past weekend, which was normally your time to recharge before beginning a new work week, had been a whirl of drama and chaos and change all at once.

You are so fucking tired. Just of everything.

But you have to pay rent, so here you are, starting your shift. At least you're not gonna have to deal with any customers or co-workers, working the overnight shift.

The bright lights of the Pizzaplex power down with a resounding whoom as you clock in, leaving the place only barely lit by the neons decorating nearly every wall.

Well, you won't have to deal with any human co-workers, at least.

Your patrol begins in the Theater tonight, so you head off in that direction. You're about halfway to the Daycare shutters when a voice sounds above you.

"Tired," Moon rasps.

"Piss off," you snap back automatically, your whole body tensing immediately afterwards.

There's no response from Moon, and when you look up at him, he's staring at you with his eyes off entirely, his surprise obvious even with his immobile face. When he doesn't move or speak, you look back down at your shoes.

"Sorry," you mutter. "Didn't mean to snap at you."

After a moment you hear Moon's feet hit the ground beside you, too quietly for a robot his size. He leans down and sideways into your view, looking carefully at your face with pale eyes.

"Long day?" He says gently, more gently than you think you've ever heard him. It rattles you to your core.

Moon steps closer, carefully, slowly as a lump forms in your throat and your eyes begin to burn and prick with tears. You try to keep it out of your expression and fail miserably as he gingerly places his hands on your shoulders.

He says your name, barely more than a whisper, and you shatter.

The first sob racks your body, and you collapse against him. He pulls you close as your legs give out, keeping you from falling to the floor.

There are no words for several minutes, just you sobbing uncontrollably as Moon holds you, rubbing circles between your shoulder blades. You cling to him while all of the stress and anxiety from the past few days boils over and pours out of you.

When you do speak, it's barely decipherable through your sobbing and sniffles.

"There's just so much- I can't- I just want it all to stop!" You cry, tightening your hold on your friend. "I can't- I can't-"

Moon shushes you gently, pulling you back and cradling your face in his hands. He swipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, catching your tears as well as observing the dark circles that should have lightened since he saw you last, not darkened.

"Breathe, Starlight," he murmurs, producing a tissue and handing it to you. You blow your nose, trying to do as he says, but your breaths are short and shaky, and threaten to turn back into sobs.

After several moments of this, Moon comes to a decision, and scoops you up into his arms. You cry out in alarm and he hushes you.

"No working tonight," he says as he lifts the both of you into the air by his wire, "you will rest."

"But I have to patrol," you argue between sniffles, "I'm at work, I have to do my job-"

"No." Moon cuts you off. "You have to rest. Not suitable for work. I will look after you."

"But what if something happens-"

"I can access cameras," he interrupts you "I will take care of anything that happens."

You don't get another chance to argue. He cuts you off anytime you try, and frankly, that outburst sapped what little energy you had left.

Moon brings you into the daycare, then up to his room, and before you can try to object, he has you swaddled in a blanket and rested in his lap. He removes your cap, setting it beside him on the floor, and cards his fingers softly through your hair, watching your sleepy expression. Though his face doesn't change, you can feel the softness of his gaze.

"Sleep, Starlight," he whispers. "Dream sweet dreams, that you may awake with a lighter heart."

You chuff a short, sleepy laugh. "Theater kid," you mutter.

Moon chuckles quietly, followed by a comfortable silence. You're past the point of trying to fight sleep, and your mental and physical exhaustion is overcoming you rapidly. As you drift off, you're fairly certain you hear him begin to hum a gentle lullaby.

You will sleep until your alarm goes off, the one you set on your phone to tell you when to clock out, after that time Moon conveniently "forgot" to tell you your shift was over on the night the power went out and the lights couldn't keep him on a timer.

Until then, Moon keeps watch over you, also checking the cameras in the background, but mostly watching your sleeping face. The way your eyes flit behind the lids when you dream. He wonders if you are dreaming of him, your friend, your protector.

He hopes your dreams of him are sweet, rather than terrifying.

#moon x reader #fnaf moon #moon dca #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf sb #fnaf moodrop #moon fnaf #fnaf moon x reader #moondrop x reader #i am definitely not projecting #at all #no sir no ma'm no the'm

[coffe-book-club]

˚₊‧꒰ა sweet like a pain au chocolat ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

info: sweet boyfriend tom kaulitz x fem! reader

disclaimers: none in particular. just a lot of fluff, sweet things and a little bit of smut.

she sleeps on top of him, the late october sun shining through the shutters of his room.

his mother is preparing dinner in the kitchen downstairs and he's simply lying on his comfy and cozy bed. enjoying the sun, enjoying the warmth of her body, basking in the glow of happiness that only first love can bring.

his soft hands gently caress her long wavy hair, slowly running his fingers through those soft curls. her warm breath lightly tickles tom's toned chest, his lips are slightly parted and a light snore escapes the girl's soft lips. his hands are rubbing circles in the small of her back while she continues to lay on his chest. he try and stay still, not wanting to wake her. but her warmth, the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing as she sleeps is driving him nuts. he's lean down and kiss her forehead and then, not knowing or caring if it wakes her, he kiss her mouth.

their soft lips touch gently, a small smile forms on the girl's lips but she doesn't wake up. in fact, he snuggles closer to tom's bare chest, slowly caressing the right side of his neck with his fingertips. tom close his eyes and exhale, taking in her sweet scent. her head lays on his chest and tom wrap his body around her as he pull her closer to him and let the sun's rays warm they both. his soft hands continue to gently scratch circles into her back and he let out a soft and slightly tired sigh as the moment is so calm and peaceful. the gentle light of the mid-october sun shines lightly on their naked skin. the shadows of the two sweet boyfriends dance gently on the greenish wall of tom's bedroom. that sweet smile does not disappear from the girl's soft lips, but persists. abandoning herself to the sweet and slow caresses that her boyfriend reserves for her.

the girl's right hand slowly lowers, caressing tom's shoulder and collarbone with the tips of her fingertips. lowering himself further and further, until she gently touches his small pink left nipple. “uhm...” the girl's nails, painted a pale blue. they slowly tickle tom's pale skin, sending a long, sweet shiver down his spine and lower stomach.

tom start to kiss her neck as the sun's rays slowly transition into the shade of dusk, her hair falling freely around her face and her body still tightly pressed against his. the sound of her breath tickles his ears. he let a gentle moan escape as he feel her nail's caress across my pale skin.

the girl's eyes open slowly, and then close again to try to get used to the light of the sun again. a sweet moan leaves the soft and juicy lips of the sweet girl, lying next to tom, with her small body and still completely naked. tom's soft lips leave sweet wet kisses on her thin neck. the smile does not leave his lips and the memory of what happened between the two sweet lovers. resurfaces in the girl's mind, causing countless shivers of pleasure down her back and lower abdomen. he hold onto her as i look up at the sunlight beaming through my blinds.

he lean back against the headboard and caress her hair with his left hand, running his fingers through her curls and kissing the back of her neck on occasion. this warm saturday afternoon just might be one of the best days of his life, if not the best. he whisper, “i love you, y/n” before kissing her neck again.

the sweet girl's heart slowly melts at tom's words. like a knob of butter, on a mountain of soft, hot pancakes. wrapping both of his arms around tom's shoulders, lightly stroking his long dreadlocks. - “i love you too, my beloved tom” she lets herself be kissed, sweetly and slowly. letting herself heal all her internal wounds by his loving kisses. he moves his face slightly, to be able to kiss tom's soft cheek. they lightly touch the tip of his nose, then rub it lovingly. he shift slightly, leaning my body into hers. he can hear her slight snoring but he love hearing it. tom feel his chest vibrate with her heartbeat and it drives he crazy. she's so... perfect. they spend the majority of their time in his bed, doing a vast array of things; he lost count as to how many times they had fun there. he sigh, his smile only growing and he close his eyes as he embrace her body against his, enjoying her warmth and their love.

the soft green blanket, is the shell of their love in this moment. tom is above the girl's naked body, supporting himself with his left elbow so as not to hurt her. gently caressing her soft, round breasts with his right hand. the girl's arms are wrapped around tom's shoulders, caressing his soft skin. his dreadlocks are loose and fall gently downwards, lightly touching his girlfriend's beautiful body. he lightly pinches the girl's swollen and sensitive nipple, a soft, sweet moan leaves her soft, swollen lips. “oh... tom” he hold her closer to him as his free hand gently runs through her hair. he lean over and start running the tip of his tongue across her chest, making him way from her collarbone to one breast and then the other. he hear her moan again as her breathing grows heavier before biting her nipple gently with his teeth. a slight chuckle leaves his mouth. she tilts her head further, sinking into tom's soft pillow. his good scent floods her nostrils, clouding her mind and entering a delicious state of pure desire. sweet and long shivers spread along his back and lower abdomen. her boyfriend's penis is getting hard again, little by little. gently stroking the inside of her right thigh. making her arch her back, with the desire to feel him inside her again. wanting to feel full of him and connected to her boyfriend once again.

tom slides his tongue along her stomach, kissing and licking her. he looks up, bathed in her beautiful eyes “are you ready for round two?”

hii 🧣 how are you? i can't wait for december. christmas has always been my favorite holiday. decorate the house with christmas decorations, drink hot chocolate and hot herbal teas in beautiful cups, prepare the gingerbread house... i also made dark chocolate chip cookies 👏🏻✨ but unfortunately i have permanently lost my old profile @/lilfloo, i discovered that i can't have it again and i was very upset, also because i was very fond of that profile 😩 i apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, but english is not my native language. xoxo flo.

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Hi! Hope you're well. I had an idea for you: what about a Charles Dickens "Christmas Carol" AU? With maybe Astarion as Scrooge and Evie as Cratchitt? Or a caroling orphan?

Okay, this is tricky because there are so many different ways you can go with this. I'm just gonna break down the two that came to mind. One being more in keeping with Dickens and one playing more fast and loose, simply holding onto the whole past, present and future thing.

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Ghost of Past, Present and Future with Ascending Astarion

Cazador is defeated and Astarion is able to convince Evie/Tav to help him Ascend; he is holding the staff in his hand, but before he can begin the ritual he is surrounded by three spirits of the past, present and future

All of the vision happen within a fraction of a second before he starts to ritual

The spirit of the past shows the pain of his past, the faces of all those he doomed and who he will now destroy for his own gain, possibly even show him Cazador's past on how he became a vampire and the torture his master inflicted on him

It doesn't excuse Cazador's actions, emphasizing the cycle of abuse and Astarion's part in it if he goes forward with this

The spirit of the present shows him Evie/Tav, how afraid she truly is and how helping him wasn't out of love, but fear, fear he too is acting upon

Emphasizes Evie/Tav's POV on the whole situation and how afraid they are of losing him and how much they love him for who his is now

The spirit of the future then shows him his Ascended form a full century in the future

He has everything, wealth, power, a command over armies and a city that fears him

He can walk in the sun and transform into mist, he can see himself in a mirror and feast to his heart's content

But then he realizes, he can't find Evie/Tav any where

The spirit leads him through the palace, he can smell blood and sees how the servants cower even when alone

He's led up a tower he doesn't recognize, higher than any in the palace and enforced with impenetrable stone

A single door greets him, one the spirit gestures him to pass through

It opens to a room, ornate in decoration and illuminated in candle light; all the windows are shuttered closed and locked so not a hint of sunlight can get through

In the center of the room he finds Evie/Tav sitting on the edge of a large four poster bed

They're dressed in the finest silks and jewelry, their skin a pale, but flawless, and they sit as still as a statue

His stomach twists at the sight, there is no life behind their eyes just a blank stare forever forward

He reaches out to touch her, but his hands passes through her like air

It's then the door unlocks and Astarion gets to see himself fully for the first time

Ascended Astarion greets Evie/Tav and Evie/Tav slips on a smile that Astarion can see doesn't meet her eyes

Astarion watches himself speak with Evie/Tav and feels the need to tear his reflect's hand away from her

It's not so much what he says, as how he says it; there is an ownership to his tone and touch Astarion recognizes, he knows his future self doesn't really love Evie/Tav, how could he love somebody he sees as an object

And then there's Evie/Tav; they're afraid, they're so clearly afraid, but they're too broken to leave

They barely speak, their voice hoarse from disuse, a far cry from the smooth tones that brought him so much joy and comfort

He never considered himself the hero type, he wasn't the one to rescue the princess in the tower, but seeing this, he thinks he might

He wants to deny it, he would never treat his love this way, he just wanted to keep them safe, both of them, but isn't that what his reflection is doing?

Locks on the windows to keep the sunlight from accidentally burning them, a high tower as opposed to a basement so when the night comes they can see the sky, no threat from enemies coming to take them away or kill them in revenge, no lecherous eyes to pluck out while still providing them luxury and comfort

His stomach turns as he realizes just how easily he could let this happen

He's brought back into his body and at the last second throws the staff away

Cazador mocks him for being too weak to take the power when it was right in the palm of his hand

Astarion counters that he is more than what Cazador made him and kills the man, ending the ritual before it could really begin

Evie/Tav is by his side the next moment and he weeps

He later tells them of his vision, of what he saw their future being

Evie/Tav confesses that they acted out of fear as well and they don't want their future to be dictated by it either

They're both looking ahead assured and braver than before

A Christmas Carol AU

This one is more in keeping with Dickens so no Cazador, Astarion is just a standard lazy magistrate who got the position through nepotism and is just relaxing in a relatively cushy government potion

Evie/Tav is still a bard and one day brought in to whatever the Baldur's Gate equivalent is to small claims court over some petty thievery

Astarion finds her guilty without really looking at the case, causing her to have to pay a fine she does not have the money for

Later Astarion sees her again and, feeling a rare moment of remorse, offers for Evie/Tav to play for him and some of the other elites of Baldur's Gate at a holiday party the next day

Evie/Tav cannot believe the audacity of this man "offering" her a job to pay off the debt he inflicted on her

She then throws it all back in his face telling him she's not going to be his little side project to temporarily sooth his guilty conscious only to undoubtedly throw her away the second he gets bored, so fuck off

They part ways and Astarion is effected by her words more than he cares to admit

Then, that night, he's visited by the spirits of past, present and future

His past would obviously contain a lot less torture in this version, but I maintain my head-canon that his parents aren't alive at this point, or at least so distant from him he doesn't have much of a relationship with them

His childhood would consist of a lot of lonely days that taught him that money and influence was the only way to maintain love and affection

I'd also include Sebastian as the Belle in this backstory; he and Astarion were in love, but Astarion's pettiness and ambition in maintaining his position eventually drove them apart

The present would show the next day where the holiday celebrations are under way

Astarion gets good look at his own party and sees it for the hollow thing that it is; a bunch of lazy bureaucrats and their minor petty rivalries

We still gotta give him a Bob Cratchitt, so we get a loot an his secretary and how their life is affected by Astarion's banal cruelties

Maybe Rolan? I don't think any of the party members would fit this very well

Either way, keeping those same lessons

He then gets unexpectedly taken to the lower city where Evie/Tav is playing at a local tavern

She's good, very good if he's being honest surrounded by a comradery he can't say he's ever felt before

Evie/Tav talks about the verdict to a friend and is unsure how she's going to get the money

Her friends assure her she doesn't have to worry about that now, something will come up, it always does, besides it's the holidays, extra performance and extra cash, they'll be loaded in no time

The future is a little trickier since being and elf he can't die, so ending up dead and utterly alone I don't think would work

I think he would have to find himself stuck in the same place, still alone, still with nothing truly his own and surrounded by people who would be just as happy to see him leave as to see him stay

I think then he'd have to be taken a tour of all the lives he did effect, the people not in his circle yet he still dictated the lives of and see what petty misery he spread for no good reason before finally landing on Evie/Tav

They're in debt, having had to go to the thieves guild for the money in the end

Instead of being the great musician Astarion saw they clearly could be, they're just as stuck as he is just older and working themselves to the bone just to keep their head above water

As tempting as it is to put the blame on Evie/Tav for not taking him up on his offer, he knows it's a poor excuse, he would have done exactly as they said and toss them aside and he had done so many other times

He then wakes up the next day with a new perspective and goes about making things right and trying to be a kinder, more empathetic person

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #asexual!tav #bard!tav #astarion headcanons

[wearyeyebrow]

Candid

Another task, another spreadsheet, another picture taken without his consent - Lucifer is wound tight. As the evening drones on he can't help but glance at the clock anticipating a night alone with you, preferably spent on his knees. NSFW. Tags under the cut.

Tags: Established relationship, Sub Lucifer, Dom MC, 2nd person perspective, they/them MC, AFAB MC, Transman Lucifer, edging, multiple orgasms, tribadism, oral sex, d/s dynamics, hurt/comfort, scene negotiation, porn with plot - do let me know if I've forgotten anything significant.

-

The student council room is quiet in the late afternoon and a great place to study. You’re sprawled out on a giant oak table cursing Solomon's illegible handwriting when footsteps echo down the corridor. You recognize the crisp click of Lucifer’s stride alongside Lord Diavolo’s heavier footfall, their voices too far away to pick up. You try not to eavesdrop, really, but they stop just outside the door left ajar.

Diavolo’s voice booms. “So the deadline snuck up on me - I’ve just been so busy with staff interviews. It’s a budgeting matter and you’re good with numbers so bringing it to your attention felt like the best place to start.”

Lucifer is quiet while scanning the papers in his hand, shuffling a few back and forth. Diavolo is childlike next to him, shifting from foot to foot.

“It’s doable but I’ll need to get started tonight if we’re going to get this in on time. The entire thing needs to be reworked…” he trails off and furrows his brow, holding the paper away from his face. You’re fondly reminded of how often he neglects to wear his glasses.

“Thank goodness! I knew I could leave it up to you.”

Lucifer only hums in acknowledgement, still squinting. The afternoon sun catches against the door and he’s set alight, beautifully framed in the archway. It’s easy to spare a drop of envy for one of God’s greatest creations, but his two-ton frown keeps most people at arm's length.

You blink at an unexpected flash, watching as Lucifer flinches at the sound of a shutter. He twists to glare at the guilty party.

“Lord Diavolo, I request you delete that immediately.”

“But it’s so rare I get a candid photo of you - it came out so well too, see - you look beautiful!”

Diavolo tries to hold up his phone but Lucifer looks just past it. “Delete it.”

“Come on Lucifer, it’s just one-"

“I’ll delete it for you if necessary.”

“But Lucifer-”

Suddenly, a third voice joins them. When or how Barbatos got there, you aren't sure, and you've long stopped asking.

“My Lord - pardon the intrusion, but your next meeting starts in ten minutes.”

“Is it that time already? Well, we’ll just have to table this conversation!”

“Lord Diav-”

“Thank you, Lucifer, for auditing the extracurricular budget, I appreciate your hard work! I’ll see you tomorrow.” Diavolo pockets his phone and takes off with Barbatos close behind.

Lucifer’s jaw is set in stone as he watches them go. Their animated chatter echoes down the hallway until they turn a corner and disappear. He clears his throat and turns to address the room. 

“Good afternoon.”

You snort. “You know, I bet I could  accidentally  delete Lord Diavolo’s entire photo gallery and he'd be none the wiser.”

"You needn't intervene on my behalf.”

“Of course I don't need to, but…” you sigh, “Do let me know, the offer’s always on the table.” You motion for him to sit and he does, closing the door behind him. He taps the documents in his hand on the tabletop, straightening the edges. Everything is in order until he thumbs through them again.

“What’s Diavolo put you up to this time?”

He doesn't look up. “I'm sure you heard enough to piece it together."

"Mm. When's it due?"

"Next Saturday."

"Don't you have a bunch of other shit to work on?"

Lucifer sighs. "It can't be helped. I'll manage." The setting sun catches against the metal rim of the window and he squints, massaging his temples.

Asking if he wants help is another way to say you don't think he can do it. His sin twists any offer of assistance into something to be ashamed of, and you know this. He also knows you know this.

You sigh, a little exasperated. "I realize that I'm talking to a brick wall here-”

“And yet you persist.”

“May I still come by tonight?”

“I…” he pauses, bowing his head in the fading afternoon sun, “I will hardly be at my best."

“I know.”

His eyes flicker to yours, softening at your gentle expression. He brushes his fingertips against your hand. "...I’ll be in my room by eleven."

-

Lucifer admonishes himself for almost nodding off again. So many numbers, so many Excel spreadsheets. He cracks his neck and continues typing, trying to make something of money the school doesn’t have.

His body is exhausted but his mind is wide awake, thoughts racing in the background, droning and cacophonous, itching and alive. He's moved to his bedroom for the evening and taken his work with him - his office is accessible, his bedroom is not. He’s kept his gloves on to avoid picking at his cuticles but he can’t help drumming them on the table, annoying himself with the sound.

He breathes a sigh of relief the second he hears a knock at his door and unlocks it with a wave of his hand, deactivating a few dozen curses.

You poke your head inside and see him at his desk, looking exactly as he did that afternoon.

"Hey.” Your voice is soft in the late hour, "How are you holding up?"

He manages a sardonic smile.

"Figures. Worse than you thought?"

"I’m surprised Excel isn’t a domestic export.”

“But it's supposed to be  so  much easier than doing it by hand.”

“Yes,” he drawls, “Easier. I just love redoing my work when it crashes - I love everything about it.”

You lean against the doorframe. “I dunno, you say that you love it, but your tone makes it sound like an anathema to all that is good in this world.”

His shoulders loosen a little when he laughs, lips curling into a slight smile. “How was your evening?"

"Not bad." You keep talking and wander over to his desk. "It was Satan's turn to cook dinner so the food was great, and Levi joined us too - oh! Mammon got a present from Luke in the mail."

"What was the occasion?"

"To hear Mammon tell it, he saved Luke from  great peril," you chuckle, "Of course, that’s not how Luke puts it. Mammon managed to get his hands on some Ursa Major Honey for Luke’s entry in the Devilsfood contest. Only the witches know how. Beel may have eaten most of his gift, though…"

"Mm, typical on all fronts." His tone is incredibly fond.

"We missed you at dinner."

"Since it was Satan's turn to cook, I doubt that."

You snort, "I saved you a plate. It's in the fridge when you want it… or until Beel eats it, I guess."

"Thank you." He sighs and sits back in his chair. “I... I’ve missed you. Solomon’s kept you busy and I’ve had so much to do - I hope you'll tell me if you ever feel neglected."

"Not neglected, just worried. When's the last time you slept properly, sweetheart?"

His face warms and he clears his throat. "I'd rather not worry you further."

"Humor me."

"...Five days, give or take."

"Lucifer…" You maneuver around to the front of his desk and lean on the edge. "I know you don't need as much sleep as I do, but you can still get sick, and your headaches won't get any better."

"Sometimes sleep is a necessary sacrifice."

"I'm well aware, doesn't mean I have to like it."

He only hums, distracted by your hand on his arm, straightening the creases of his shirt.

"I'll be forthright," you murmur, "I know how I’d like this night to go. You up for it?”

"...I was hoping you'd ask."

"You sure?" There's your hand again, this time in his hair, nails just grazing his scalp, sending pleasant tingles down his back. You're close enough now that he can smell the subtle scent of your shampoo, familiar and inviting. It sets him at ease.

"Please, stay."

“Then, leave your work for the evening. What do you say?”

His desk lamp casts a warm, orange glow over the bedroom, casting heavy, almost architectural shadow. Your features are augmented, posed in sharp relief against the muted colors of his bedroom. Merely a few seconds have passed since you asked him a question, but he already feels like he’s taken too long to answer.

“...I shall put my things away.”

You hum and give him a moment to straighten his desk, lingering just outside of his personal space. Even in the privacy of his bedroom Lucifer is impeccably dressed. You follow the crease of his pant leg down to his polished loafers. He makes every move with purpose and each thing has its place. It's only the slight tremble of his hands that gives away his fatigue.

You think back on that afternoon. After Diavolo had left, you’d seen Lucifer in your mind’s eye - the hard line of his clenched jaw softened into an expression of relief, into an expression you covet.

You breathe out slowly, trying to hide your anticipation, and walk across the floor to his bed. The covers are smooth and unwrinkled, perfectly pleated as he feels they should be. You grab one of his pillows and make sure he's watching when you place it at your feet.

He feels the weight of your stare but looking at everything still left to do makes his head hurt. He has so much to do tomorrow and so much he should have done yesterday.

Your voice cuts through the fog. “Lucifer - come here.”

He quickly places his pen in its holder, almost knocking over the inkwell, before crossing the room to meet you at the foot of his bed.

He kneels of his own volition. Your pleased smile makes his heart pound.

“I didn’t even have to ask.” You muse fondly

“How…” he swallows, “How would you like me?”

You brush your thumb against his cheek. His eyelids flutter shut and he turns toward your open palm. “I think… just like this. This is where I want you tonight, on your knees.” His face heats up but he manages to meet your half-lidded gaze.

“I’ve noticed, you know?” You say, studying his face, tilting his jaw in your hand, “You’ve had a lot of things forced on you lately. I’ve offered my help yet you refuse it. Why?

He tenses. “I am merely reaping the consequences of my own actions. I refuse to burden you with my responsibilities.”

Your brow furrows. “Okay but, what about those pictures? He knows they make you uncomfortable and I don’t like that he takes them anyway.” Your hand is soft against his cheek. “I won’t take action if you don’t want me to, I promise. I just want to understand, Lucifer. Saying you don’t know why is also acceptable.”

Lucifer eases into the comforting weight of his position beneath you. His posture sags, just slightly, and the sharpness of his brow softens. There's a faint tint of red to his cheeks. He tentatively leans forward, not meeting your eyes.

“I… I am not fond of them, but… they’re just pictures. I shouldn’t be so bothered. The less bothered I am, the less often my picture will be taken.”

“Why shouldn’t you be bothered?”

“It’s an innocuous thing. Something as small as getting one's picture taken isn’t worth getting upset over.”

“I disagree. You’re bothered by them, and it isn’t difficult to respect that by not taking your picture.”

“There are better things you could spend your time on.” He tries again, weakly, hoping it doesn’t stick.

“That’s up to me, isn’t it? Don’t I get to decide what to spend my time on?”

“Yes, of course.”

“If I can't stop him then I want to get rid of them for you.”

“I…” He looks down at his hands, “I will think about it.”

“I’ll ask you again tomorrow morning, then. I promise I’ll drop it after that.” He nods and sinks further, wanting nowhere else to be. "Don’t worry, I won't let anyone else see you like this.”

"Never?" He’s keen for one last bit of reassurance.

"Never."

You lean down to kiss him. It's lingering, gentle, and sweet. He follows when you pull back, so you kiss him again, greedy this time, to sait him, but it's not enough, never enough, and you tell him so between kisses.

"Please..." he breathes, when you finally part.

"Please what, darling?" A shudder runs through him.

"May I service you, may I  please  you, in a way that only I can?"

"And how do you want to do that?"

"I..." he swallows thickly, “I want to do whatever you ask of me."

Your gentle laugh cements him on his knees. "How could I ever say no to that?" The affection in your voice makes him dizzy. A hand slips down his jaw to direct his attention. "If at any point you object to what I ask, you will tell me - that's your first order of the night."

He nods in agreement. As with any magic, intention matters, and you want him on his knees willingly. The pact remains inactive; each time he follows an order is done of his own free will.

"Your second order..." you thumb his lower lip, "You look so good on your knees.. I want your mouth between my legs."

He swallows. "It would be my pleasure."

"Stoplight system like usual."

“Understood.”

You lean down to kiss him again. It’s heady and languid, desire bubbling just beneath your skin. When you pull back he is a picture of perfect obedience, kneeling with his hands in his lap.

You languidly place a leg over his shoulder and he kisses your knee, inner thigh, before grabbing the edge of your shorts. He doesn’t go any further, instead catching your eye. You hold him in anticipation, sizing him up, waiting for him to ask.

Finally he swallows. “...May I?”

You smile and lift your hips so he can slide them off, leaving you bare before him. He takes the time to fold them before leaning forward and kissing up your thighs, shifting forward so he can wrap his arms around your hips.

His eyes flicker upward when he takes a long, slow lick, savoring the way your breath hitches. He yearns for your approval.

“Mmm… that’s it,” You breathe, lost in a hazy moment of affection and power. Lucifer kneels before you because he wants to be here, because he chooses to be here.

He groans low in his throat and sinks his fingers into the meat of your hips, holding onto every little noise you make, tasting the salty, musky tang of your arousal. The scant stubble of his cheek rubs against the smooth texture of your inner thigh. He yearns for the way your whole body chases his mouth and rocks against his face, folds sticky and wet, groaning when you tug on his hair.

"You're so good with your tongue, fuck-" You can't hold his gaze, too lost in how it feels, throbbing while he leverages his entire body for your pleasure. He flicks his tongue just right, sliding it back and forth, only stopping to breathe, using his calloused fingers in the interim, tiny tight circles, watching how your head tilts back.

"Can't get enough of you Luci." your praise blooms in his chest and floods his body. He shudders, little sounds escaping his every exhale. 

You’re already close to the edge, but an image of him burns in your mind’s eye. 

“L-lucifer - stop.” His tight grasp on your hips is immediately gentle and tentative. He stills himself and settles back onto his heels, shoulders heaving, lips shiny.

“What’s wrong?” There's a plaintive edge to his voice, a delicious contrast with the mask of power he usually wears. It's difficult to ignore the ache between your legs.

You wrap a stray tendril of hair behind his ear. “Not yet… I want - I’ve been imagining this all day, you on your knees - I want to see it, wanna see you sweetheart. Touch yourself while you please me.”

He tenses. His mind starts to conjure an ineffable mess of images and sensations. He can't stand the way his muscles twist, the way his skin is mottled and stretched - a punishment of his own making. He deserved it after the fall. He should be better than this. He should have  been  better. His mind always questions what you'll think of him, what others will think of him. It's the antithesis of pride, shame on full display, yet he wants your eyes on him, he wants to believe in how you see him. He tries to rationalize. It doesn't matter, you've seen him before, you know him. Yet something in him screams and claws, wound tight, tight, tight.

His silence makes you pause, makes you wonder whether you should check on him, but then he breathes out slowly.

“Where would you like me to start?”

You consider him for a moment. “Take your vest off and unbutton your shirt. You may leave it on as long as it’s unbuttoned.”

His mouth is dry. He doesn’t make a show of removing his clothing but he does so dutifully and completely, staying on his knees at your feet. He folds his vest and sets it just out of reach, leaving his red button up hanging loosely from his shoulders. His face is flushed a delicate pink that travels all the way down to his chest.

“What-” he clears his throat, “What would you have me do next?”

“Take your trousers off. Remove your briefs too - and your socks.” His hands hover awkwardly over his waistband. His reluctance is obvious. 

You lean forward and kiss his temple before placing a gentle hand on his neck. Your voice is soft and warm in his ear. "Do you remember my first order? What’s your color?”

“...Yellow.”

"Good job. Do you want to leave them on?”

“I…" he exhales with great difficulty, shoulders tense, "I am not sure, I apologize.”

"Mm, what if you took off your briefs and then put your trousers back on?”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I-”

“Would it make you feel better?” He doesn’t say anything and you can feel his cheek burn against your own. “Would it, Lucifer?”

He sighs, and the annoyance in his voice is tinged with something like relief. “Very well.”

You make a sound of agreement and then kiss his neck before drawing back to your full height.

“Briefs off, then. Put your trousers back on but leave your fly open and belt off.”

You give him privacy by turning around and adjusting the pillows behind you, waiting until you hear him still.

You’re met with the sight of his pink, flushed cheeks. The heavy meat of his chest is partly hidden by his open shirt. You follows the delicate trail of hair leading from his navel to the dark curls between his legs, just visible in his open trousers.

“Look at you -” you breathe, “ Fuck  - you look good.”

He’s caught between pride and shame. He’s dizzy, his heart is hammering in his chest, and he wants to tell you exactly what you’re doing to him. The throbbing between his legs is almost unbearable. He wants to beg. He wants to touch you, he wants your hands on him, but he can’t, he can’t. Everything is too tight, too tense, his mind is too  fast-

“Please - “ he whispers, before he can stop himself, “Tell me what to do. Give me an order.”

"What do you want, Lucifer? How do you want to feel good?”

"It does not matter what I want.”

Your gaze softens as you consider him, leaning down to kiss his temple. You speak low in his ear. "It always matters what you want. Answer me.” You kiss his neck and he whines a desperate little  "oh-"  shuddering as he inhales, delicate and wanting, before resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“I…” he licks his lips, “I want you to use me as you see fit.”

You kiss the shell of his ear. "You’re sweet and submissive just for me, aren’t you baby?” He nods, unable to voice it, unable to touch it, but he can acknowledge it and that’s good enough. “I want you back between my legs, but this time I want you to touch yourself while you please me. I want to hear you. What do you say?”

He whimpers. “Yes - I...” He pulls back from your shoulder and shifts down onto his knees between your open legs.

Your hand runs through a few strands of his hair. “Touch yourself for me, gently, slowly. Wanna see you feel it.”

One of his calloused hands disappears into his unbuttoned trousers. He sucks in a breath, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s it… slow circles.” You lick your lips and savor his soft keening. “I want to take my time with you tonight.”

He’s already a little breathless.

“Mm…” You start to play with yourself, getting off to the image in front of you. Lucifer on his knees, stroking his clit at your command, a beautiful, willing submissive.

“May I…?” His eyes dart to your folds, wet and glistening, just a few inches away from his mouth.

You ignore him. “How do you feel?”

“G-good, ah - I-” he keeps his eyes on your, groaning when you part your lips. His breath is hot against your.

“What do you want, Lucifer? Be specific.”

“May I please you while I - while I touch myself?” His face burns.

“Good man… go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He breathes. You shift your hips forward to meet his tongue. He groans when they connect, dipping his tongue inside of you, breathing harshly through his nose, mouth open wide, lips wet. He’s rocking his hips into his own hand, legs spread, sinking lower.

“That feel good, baby?” You whisper.

He moans what sounds like an affirmative.

“You’re stunning…” You run a hand through his hair, “So fucking perfect-" your chest constricts at the way he looks at you, up through his lashes, completely adoring. “You make me so…  fuck  I wanna come. Make me come?”

You can barely see his irises, his perfect hair tousled and thrown to the side. He pulls away, just for a second, just long enough to whisper a desperate  please. 

“Fffuck - Luci- baby…” You fall onto your back and let the pleasure wash over you. He knows just what you like best and his little noises spur you on.

Your whispered praises and directions flood his mind. He’s dripping onto his own hand, viscous fluid staining the inside of his trousers. He revels in how you writhe above him, in the heady taste and smell of your arousal - all because of him. He throbs and he wants this, he wants to feel your release, to hear more, more. He moans when you grab his hair, needy and wanton, suddenly muffled by your cunt as you starts to fuck his face.

“Keep - right there, right there-!” He does exactly as you’ve instructed, doubling down, licking your clit just right, and finally you tense, muscles tight, before an elastic  snap  washes over you, throbbing and lingering, a wet sweltering heat. He takes his time, just how you like, gently licking as you come down.

Your chest heaves and you drop your tight grip on his hair, instead running your fingers through it. Soft praises leave your mouth, syrupy sweet, too good for him, but he relishes in it, still touching himself on his knees.

There are a few minutes of blissful calm as you catch your breath, before sitting up to place a hand on his cheek. Your hazy expression meets his own. “So good at making me come, so good on your knees - thank you.” He leans into your hand and his flushed, red lips press into your skin.

“So gorgeous,” you whisper, “Still touching yourself… You need me baby?”

He nods into your leg, now completely doubled over. He shivers at your soft hands on the back of his neck. “When was the last time you made yourself feel good?”

“Weeks at least,” he murmurs, surprising himself with how easily he answers.

“Oh sweetheart…” he throbs at the sincere affection in your voice. “I want you to take some time for yourself, for some stress relief, even when I’m not there. Especially then.”

He starts to shake, now resting his weight against your calf, head bent between your thighs.

“Lucifer… let me look at you.”

He slowly raises his head with purpose. The plaintive, needy look in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“Come here, Lucifer.” You pull him forward into a kiss, leading until you’re both standing. The blood rushes to his head and he sways a little, but you hold him steady. He shivers when you lean in close and kiss his neck, hands wandering from his shoulders back down to squeeze his ass.

“Mm… I want you on your back.” He does as he’s told, settling where you’ve arranged the pillows. You crawl over him, shadows falling across your body, stunning and ethereal above him.

You kiss his jugular and his breath hitches when you slide your tongue up his neck. He's achingly conscious of the hands on his hips and your breath in his ear.

“You need me?”

“Yes,” He whispers, arms wrapped around your back, feeling your skin flush against his.

“I love you like this. Love you all the time but…” he’s so wanting and open and  vulnerable , “I wanna find out just how wet you are, wanna make you feel incredible. You want that?” His pulse is racing.

He wraps his arms around your back, dragging his blunt nails up your spine. He breathes in deeply, nose pressed into your neck, nodding yes, yes.

You lean to the side and trail your hand down his belly, stopping at his waistband. You wait there for him.

He swallows, voice cracking. “Go ahead."

He lifts his hips and you pull his trousers down, dropping them off the side of the bed. Your hands settle on his thighs while your eyes wander.

He glistens. Sticky, viscous fluid string between his parted legs. His curls are damp and stick to his lips, clit heavy and swollen, flushed red. He’s taken by the way your breath catches, pushing him away from the edge of doubt. You did this to him. He trusted you to do this to him, to make him wet, to make him ache.

You catch his eyes as you straddle him, hovering just over his clit. He reaches for your hips.

“Above your head.” He reluctantly retracts, stretching his arms above to grasp onto the pillows. His chest arches forward, face flushed, and beads of sweat line his forehead. He’s quivering, dripping wet, but he obeys and withstands. The way you look at him makes the room fade into the background and muffles his every passing thought.

You grasp his waist and lower yourself, adjusting until you find it, until you brush his clit with your own  just right.

He gasps, eyes squeezing shut, and you groan. His clit is hard, brushing through your folds with every gentle thrust.

“Yes…” he sighs in relief, fists clenching into the fabric above him.

You've been sated by your first orgasm, able to focus on his pleasure. The pace you set is slow, feeling him slick against you. 

“I…”

“You want something, Luci?”

His chest is blotchy, mouth dry, panting. “More - I… faster, please-” You continue at a slow, steady pace.

“Missed this sight,” You whisper, lips kiss-bitten and full above him.

He aches to say every passing saccharine word, dripping with pride at how you make him feel, how you look, who you are. He feels a cool hand on his cheek. “I think I’ll let you simmer. How long can you hold off for me, I wonder?”

“As - as long as you desire,” he breathes.

“Then tell me when you’re close.” You speed up, just enough to make his head tilt back into the cushions. His biceps flex as he fights to stay still, to stay exactly as he’s been instructed.

You lean forward and starts fucking him faster, panting and reveling in the way he starts to writhe.

“I’m… ah - I’m getting close-” You hum in acknowledgement and keep going until you hear a familiar rise in the deep pitch of his voice, and feel the way his body tenses.

“There- I-!” You still.

“No-! No, fuck,  please- ”

“Not yet baby, not yet,” you pant in his ear, “Hold it back…” and smile at his trembling effort. “Focus on how it feels to be denied what you need so badly.”

You pull back and he groans at the translucent, sticky fluid that stretches between you. You sit on his thighs.

“Look at you… so needy and wet - you want my fingers, sweetheart?”

“Yes, yes please-” his chest heaves as he starts to forget himself.

It's after the third edge that he really starts to beg. He is held in place by your gentle fingers, letting him whine, watching him finally let go. It’s not enough, not enough and then too much, until it only takes a few small circles to get him close, until he's whispering  please, please, please  under his breath, as you bring him to the edge and back again.

His perfectly pleated sheets are a mess and his legs are spread wide before you. He can’t think and it’s utter bliss. Your soft fingers tease him, pushing the hood of his clit up and over the head, back down again, and again, watching him twitch. He's torn between keeping his eyes shut and looking directly at the erotic sight of your hand jerking him off.

“That feel good? Answer me, Luci.”

“So - so fucking good, so - keep-!” You smile, savoring him like this. “I’m - I’m close, oh there - please there-” he begs, gasping, whining, but you pull back just when you feel him start to tense, leaving him just on the edge without anything to push him over.

“No, no, no I was - I was there, please keep going,  please-!”  He pitifully tries to hump your hand, wanting anything, any more friction, he was so close, so agonizingly close.

You drag your finger just over the tip of his clit and he sobs.

“What do you want, darling?”

“I want - I want to come, I need - please make me come, please,  please-”  His eyes are misty, his cheeks are red, and hair is a tousled mess. He can only feel and want and beg, overwhelmed by the feeling of your fingers still stroking his clit, but it's not enough, not enough. He wrenches his head to the side and covers his eyes with his forearm.

“That’s it Luci, let go - tell me..." He shivers and jolts at your fingers on his abdomen, tracing up his belly. “You need it, baby?”

“Yes,” he whimpers, “Yes, please, I need - I need it.”

You shift down his body, nails soothing over the tops of his thighs. Just as he removes his forearm you finally lick his clit. He gasps, before whining, high pitched and utterly debauched. He covers his mouth, embarrassment flooding his cheeks, but you rub your thumbs into his thighs.

“Wanna hear more of that,” you whisper, “Wanna make you come, since you asked so nicely, since you’re doing so well for me.”

He tilts his head back when you start licking his oversensitive clit. His thighs tremble.

Finally, finally you wrap your lips around him and suck. His clit is heavy and thick in your mouth, full and swollen.

“Yeesss, yes, yes…”

He sobs your name, feeling himself clench,  “- shit-!”  You suck hard and it takes all your strength to hold his hips against the bed. He thrashes, white knuckling the sheets. “Oh fuck - yes I’m - there, there, please -  please -!”

You keep going, just as promised, sucking and licking, exactly how he needs, for just as long as he needs. His voice gets higher and higher, breathy, tensing, toes cracking until all is still and he freezes, forehead touching the pillows behind him, neck delicately exposed, and he lets go.

“ Yesss  … ohhhh fffuck,  fuck yes , yes-!” He sobs with deep seated relief, euphoria flushing his body.

You want him to linger in it, to feel tension dissipate as the embers die down and warm his body. He gasps, writhing as his entire body jerks with intermittent aftershocks. You hold him there for as long as you can, sweet caresses of his clit, doing your best not to overstimulate him, to let him down gently.

As his body starts to relax you kiss his inner thighs and nuzzle into his skin, tracing your nails over his legs. His breathing slows as exhaustion matures into a hazy comforting wading pool, until the world spins in slow motion and he's finally still. You slowly slide up his body, taking him in. His half-lidded eyes follow you, face slack, lips curled into a barely there smile, genuine and gentle. The hand on his cheek is met warmly.

“Good job love,” you whisper, “So good for me. You okay?”

He licks his lips and leans up with just enough energy to meet you. You guide him back down and kiss him like he deserves, whispering little affirmations between them. It’s like he’s floating in a space of unreality and he lets himself linger, for just a bit, enjoying the way he can quietly give and receive a softness he’d forgotten he was capable of.

You gently run your hands over his skin and he does the same, tilting when you kiss his neck, sighing when you kiss just under his ear. You lay there for an indeterminate amount of time, until one of you starts to recognize the sound of a clock ticking. You nuzzle against his sweaty skin.

“Wanna get cleaned up? I don’t feel like a shower tonight but I’ll take one if you want.”

“Washcloth is fine,” he murmurs.

“Okay.” You kiss his temple and then reluctantly slide off the bed and head for the bathroom. You pee and clean yourself up a little bit before returning to him with a washcloth in hand.

He’s slowly unfolding another comforter, back in his discarded trousers and unbuttoned shirt.

You come up behind him and kiss his shoulder. “M’sorry, I forgot to put a towel down.” He shrugs, still a little out of it, eyes glazed over.

You let him finish before having him sit in front of you, gently wiping his face clean as he leans into your hand.

“I’ll get changed,” he murmurs, faded and wobbly. You give him his privacy in the bathroom and change into a pair of pajamas left in his room for nights like these. He returns wearing his own and immediately sinks into bed. You roll onto your back, beckoning him, and he settles into your side.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Lucifer speaks. His voice is muffled against your skin.

“If you do decide to delete those pictures you’ll have to do it twice - once in his phone and once in his backup.”

“Mm. Why don’t I pick Leviathan’s brain - I want it to be permanent.”

“Might as well be if you’re going through the trouble.”

“It isn’t trouble.”

The tension in his body slowly dissipates, yielding the enormity of his weight.

“Then… I’ll let you take care of it."

#lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #my writing #wearyeyebrow #i know this is older but i never properly posted it damnit #nightbringer really hyped me up #now im just posting all my notes app lucifer conent #and the one long fic ive done for him #anyway #lucifer x mc #sub obey me #sub lucifer #dom mc

[necros-writing-stuff]

Sleep Paralysis: Collab'oween Day 1

GN!Reader/Male!Unspecified Creature.

Warnings: Rape/Non-con; Maybe feeings of claustrophobia and references to the ocean; Fear of death but no physical harm to reader; Utter helplessness; Cunnilingus/Analingus (you can read as either, I don't specify genitals for reader); Penetrative sex; Creature man has a prehensile pp; 3rd person POV.

Word Count: 2080.

Notes: I'm not doing all of the days, just the six prompts I wrote! Please make sure to check out all of us doing this together: @undead-merman @letstalktea @inkyquince @angrelysimpping Also big thanks to Merman for making the banner and divider and all of their wonderful work on this project.

It gets closer each night. They know as the sun fades, as their eyes shutter closed and the warm fingers of Hypnos keep their lids heavy that it's only a matter of time before the personification of sleep partially releases his hold on them and that reality will blend with their nightmares. 

For months it's happened every night. They awaken without control of their body, not even able to blink, as eyes watch from the darkest corner of their room. It's just a trick of the mind, they know this, but it doesn't make it any less terrifying. 

They'd gone to their doctor. Been referred to get a brain scan by a specialist to ensure it wasn't anything malicious causing the paralysis. All tests came back fine. They were sent home with pills and a regiment to follow. None of it had helped. The only time it ever left was when the dawn broke. Winter was on the horizon. Shorter days. Later dawns.

Then, they'd thought that it wouldn't be able to hide in the dark if there was no darkness. They'd filled their room with nightlights in every corner, left them on as they went to sleep, confident that they'd finally be able to get through the night. They hadn't. The creature cared not for the lights strewn about the room. It was a void of blackness, sucking in the light and refusing to let any stray ray out of its grasp. 

Fine then, it's sunlight it doesn't approve of. UV lamps were bought and installed. Their electricity bill would suffer, so they tried to stay away from electronics during the day to compensate. There was a pile of unread books just begging to be read, afterall. Yet, as night fell and sleep abandoned them once more, the creature remained in its corner. The blue hue of the UV lamps only made it more threatening. Cold, sterile. Dead. 

They couldn’t even sleep through the day. Something pulled at them, keeping them awake even as they lay with their eyes closed in their bed with the room made as dark as they could for the day. Only when the moon was out could they find a fraction of rest.

After months, they found themself getting used to the creature. It was a black blob with (admittedly creepy) eyes - no discernable features, no intent of ill-will it would seem. It just wanted to watch them through the night. 

It just had to move, didn't it? It had to reach a clawed hand it had never seemed to possess before out toward them, its frozen form a threat again for the first time in a long while. The skin (If it had skin) was a black as the void it made; it was hazy due to the smoke that rose from the flesh. The only part of it that continued to move. The smoke. 

Perhaps it was the home. The place they lived was haunted, wanting to torment the poor soul living within. With little money left due to the lamp expenses, they desperately pushed every new lamp into a large box and took it to a car-boot sale. They were all new, but half price anyway. They just needed enough for one night in a local hotel. Just one. To see if it would work. 

Each night that passed as they sold the lamps, the creature got closer. Like it knew. More limbs came out from the haze; the other clawed hand, long seemingly muscled legs, the torso unfurling and appearing to be as large as the rest of it. A beast. A tall beast that could rip someone apart just by strength alone. Still it's face remained shadowed, the smoke dripping down like hair.

Not every lamp was taken, but enough so over the weekend event that they had the money to stay in a hotel. A single bed, no TV, shitty water pressure in the shower. It was only on the first floor but the windows were painted just all the same. At least it smelled clean.

Hope sent them to sleep that night - a tentative hope that was on the verge of snapping as each second ticked by on the old clock on the wall. 

That hope snapped the second their eyes opened with the street lights sneaking through the curtains. It was here. Worst of all, it was closer than it had ever been. Crouched on the edge of the bed, tall frame leaning over so that it looked down at them with those bright white eyes. This close it was easy to see that there was no pupil. No iris. Just white. 

Tears welled that they could not blink away, blurring their vision and making the creature even harder to make it. Panic grasped them tightly, their heart hammering in a chest that refused to twitch. They needed to breathe more, to take in deep, filling breaths. But they could only take in standard breaths as their head began to swim. It felt like being suffocated. 

If they could scream, they would. Especially when it moved right in front of them. It never moved when they could see. Never. It was now. That elongated hand reaching down, a claw tracing the path of the tears as they fell down their face into their hairline. Some of the tears fell into their ears. It made them itchy. 

The creature didn't keep its attention to their face. Its claw wandered down their body, pulling the blanket with it as it exposed them to the cold air of the hotel room. Their pyjamas were lifted, their tummy exposed. Would it start there? Rip of their innards and eat them as they could do nothing to watch? 

Slowly, it pressed its hand flat to their skin. The warmth was a surprise. A creature of such darkness should emanate frost, but its flesh bordered on burning as it pressed down. Would it crush them? Would it contribute to the suffocation that felt it was taking hold? 

It would not. At least, it wouldn't yet. Every touch was gentle as it flipped them over, every adjustment it made of their body made for their comfort as their head was turned to the side so that they could breath with their body laying on their front. It didn't feel right. It shouldn't be so gentle. 

The tears from their left eye now fell over the bridge of their nose and into the eyeline of the other. It merged with the other falling tears as they wet the pillow. 

Beside from the ruffling of clothes and the creaking of the old mattress, the room had been silent. As had the creature. No neighbouring rooms made bangs or bumps in the night. A harsh ripping broke the silence. Their clothes. The creature was removing their clothes. Tearing it to shreds with its knife-like claws and discarding the fabric on the carpeted floor below. 

Goosebumps rippled over their skin as the night's air fell on it. The creature's flesh was the only warmth they could wish for - and they couldn't only wish that it would stop and leave them alone. 

It was a coward. Turning them over so that it didn't have to look in their wide eyes as it tore them apart from behind. Taking their clothes as a butcher would a pelt. Taking advantage of their sleep condition, or perhaps causing it itself so that they couldn't run or fight back. 

Such a strange thing, to feel anger after all of that fear. If creatures like this beast could wander the earth, then perhaps their anger would fuel their spirit enough to find a second life after death and seek vengeance on the wretched thing. 

Despite the feeling that they couldn't breathe, they did not pass out. They wished they would, that they could drift off into nothing before they would feel the beast's claws in their back. This mercy would not be for them. 

And neither would the claws. Not as the creature lowered itself, the bed shifting as its long legs came to sit on the floor and its hidden face lowered to the back of their thighs. 

A tongue, long and thick, teased up their thigh until sharp fangs nipped at the flesh of their ass. The tongue returned quickly, flickering as it found its way to their hole. 

More anger. More rage filling their heart as they desperately plead with their libs to just move. Just the littlest amount of movement - a twitch, anything! Nothing would come. 

It kept poking, prodding, lapping away at their exposed hole while disgusting pleasure whispered up their spine and choked their breaths. ‘Stop,’ they tried to beg. To scream it until their throat would bleed. But what was the use? They’d been begging for months and yet no one was listening. If there was a god or even multiple of them, they’d long since been forsaken to this demonic presence. 

There’s a strength to the beast. It lifts them as if it were nothing, their limp body folding as it hoists their hips up and presses it’s face even deeper into their core; that damned tongue flattening and giving a smooth, languid lick that has their eyes rolling back in their head. It should have stopped at this indignity. Why didn’t it just stop there?

It took its fill of their hole, still following with its tongue as it lowered their body back onto the mattress. As if it couldn’t bear to part with them. And sure enough, its stocky form rose over them again, that red-hot skin pressing to their back as something new wriggled and writhed against their saliva-dripping core. It meant to mount them.

One last push. One last demand for a finger to curl, to prove that they weren’t locked away inside of their own body. Underneath its body. A wall of flesh pressing down, closing in and taking away all of the air in the room as their anger slowly drained into sorrow.

That tentacle-like cock of the creature burrowed its way into them, spreading them open and penetrating deep. Strange guttural noises were snarled by their head, the beast having its pleasure while their tears returned. Every thrust of the hips was more like a roll, like a wave coming in toward the beach and retreating once more. It was graceful, powerful, threatening to take them away with it into the depths below. 

How could they swim against the tide without the ability to move? How could they possibly stop the water from encasing each and every part of them, leaving not a single inch of skin dry? 

Their mind refused to wander away, instead it focused on the smell of burning the creature emanated. It grasped onto every touch and grab the creature made at their skin. It couldn’t kick or scream anymore. Just like the body it inhabited. God, they were so tired.

Sweat gathered on their skin, the heat from their creature making it feel like a sauna in the cheap room. Sharp nips were given to their neck and shoulders, fanged teeth having a taste or maybe even marking what belonged to it. Its tongue came back to clean their cheeks of tears. 

Why did it have to feel so sweet? The slow build to the orgasms that hit in waves matching its hips pulling in and out. Its cock moved by itself while it would thrust, slowly undulating, causing their throat to seize from how intensely their nerves lit on fire for it. 

Almost. Almost they were freed from being there. It was exhausting being used so thoroughly, their eyelids were heavy and promised the sweet release of unconsciousness. It never came.

Who's to say how long it stayed on top of them that night. They couldn’t see the clock, couldn’t say when the beast woke them from peace. It stayed until the sun’s rays peaked through the cheap old curtains. But it left with a promise, a lingering hand on the back of their neck as it rose up, thumb rubbing over the freshest bite. It would be back. 

They still felt numb when control returned to their limbs. Felt numb for the rest of the day until night fell once more and that fear built. All they could focus on was the fact that the semen dripping from their hole never cooled in their frigid winter air seeping into the room.

#spill my guts #collaboween #cw terato #cw noncon #not dol #cw claustrophobia #cw thalassophobia #cw sleep paralysis #gn reader #necro's fics

[george-weasleys-girl]

North Star Series

Chapter 36 ‐ Hello, Lovely

Summary: George and Y/N go owl shopping

Warnings: Bit of innuendo at the end

Start Here:

Errol tumbled through the open window into the living room, skidding across the coffee table. Y/N scooped him up in her arms and took him into the kitchen for a little treat.

"Poor thing," she said. "Your parents really should consider retiring him. Let him spend his golden years chilling on his perch and being spoiled rotten."

"Yeah, mum and dad have had him forever," George agreed. "You know, the holidays are right around the corner," he added thoughtfully while he removed the message from the owl's leg. "Maybe we could surprise them with an early Christmas gift."

"How would your mom feel about that?"

George shrugged. "I think she'd be fine with it. And we could maybe adopt Errol so she doesn't have to worry about taking care of two owls."

Y/N looked back down at Errol, who was happily gnawing on a piece of bacon. "Love the idea," she smiled, leaning over to look at the message. "What does the note say?"

"Family dinner on Tuesday night."

Y/N simply nodded. She knew this wasn't a cordial invite to a quiet family gathering. Family dinners at the Burrow were usually relegated to the weekends. Gatherings on weeknights meant one thing and one thing only, Order of the Phoenix business.

"I think I'll apparate over with Errol to let mum know we got the message. Give the poor fellow a break," George gazed down the elderly owl. "Wanna join us?"

Y/N thought for a moment. "I think I'll pass this time." Having already changed into her loungewear, she didn't want to get dressed again. "I'm pretty tired tonight, and I don't really feel like going out again."

"No worries, love," he leaned down for a quick kiss. "I won't be long."

~•~

Eeylops Owl Emporium was one of the few shops that remained open for business on the north side of Diagon Alley. "Our selection is pretty thin," the manager, Mr. Turbit explained. "With everything going on, we thought it best to keep our inventory low."

In case we have to close.

He didn't speak the last bit aloud. But he didn't he need to. Every few days, another shop shuttered it doors. It was only a matter of time until the joke shop was the only place open. George and Fred had vowed to keep it going until the bitter end.

"We're keeping them back here for safety reasons," Mr. Turbit said as he led them to the rear of the store. "Got a couple of barn owls and several brown and grey ones. Sold our last snowy owl yester - ."

The bell on the door jingled, and they all turned to see another customer coming in. "If you'll excuse me," the proprietor said before hurrying away.

George and Y/N turned back to the owls. "Do you think they'd want to stick with a grey one, like Errol?" Y/N asked.

"Dad won't care, but mum's a creature of habit. Grey would be best, I think."

Y/N nodded and turned her gaze to the grey owls to her right, while George scoped out the left.

"Well, hello lovely," George cooed a few minutes later. Y/N looked over to see a little brown owl perched on his arm.

"Who's this little one?" Y/N asked, giving the owl some head scratches.

"Don't know. She just hopped up on my arm." George smiled at his new feathered friend.

"Have you taken a look at her eyes? They seem...different," Y/N leaned in closer. "Bring her into the light."

They both gasped the moment the late afternoon sun hit her eyes. "They look like galaxies," George marveled.

"Almost like the Milky Way," Y/N's awestruck voice was barely above a whisper.

"That one there's been with us the longest," a voice said. The couple turned back to find the manager standing behind them. "She's completely blind. That's why she keeps getting passed over. But it doesn't seem to hinder her too much. Had her deliver a couple of messages for me, and she did fine."

~•~

A half hour later, Y/N and George emerged from the Emporium with a stoic grey owl sitting tall and proud in his cage, and Nyx, the little blind owl, perched on George's shoulder.

"I think she has a crush on you," Y/N observed.

"No surprise there," George gave his girlfriend a cheeky grin. "Have you taken a look at me lately?"

Y/N stopped, looking him up and down. "Meh. You're alright, I guess."

"That's not what you were saying last night," he said with a wink.

Y/N's mouth fell open, her entire face glowing a bright vermillion. "George!"

George laughed. He couldn't help it. She was just so damned adorable, all red-faced and flustered.

Y/N slapped his arm, trying to hold back her own laughter. "You're so mean to me," she teased. "All the time. Just mean, mean, mean."

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. "But, you love me anyway," he grinned down at her.

"Lucky for you I do," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

~•~

He leaned down, giving her a gentle, lingering kiss. "And don't I know it."

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #north star series

[writing-good-vibes]

saying don't be afraid

the first michael cenric fic that i have written !! based on some not very original takes about what the shape is exactly. divider by @/fireflygraphics. WARNING for mentions of murder, child abuse, medical abuse, mental illness and other such angst.

By the time his parents arrive home, the Shape had retreated back into the snug little recess of Michael's mind that it usually dwelled in. Only then, with the warm fog lifted from him, did Michael feel the bitter chill of the October breeze on his skin, cheeks flushed rosy and nose starting to run with the cold. His hands are sticky and his fingers, barely able to wrap around the hilt, clench tighter.

There are strong hands shaking his shoulder and he can hear his mother scream inside the house.

Smith's Grove say they want to help him. Loomis wants to expunge whatever it is that is inside him. His parents stop visiting and he doesn't know why.

Loomis, exasperated as always, talks to Michael in a one sided conversation. "Why?" he asks. Over and over. Michael doesn't know why, not yet anyway, the Shape hasn't told him yet. The Shape keeps a lot of secrets, but Michael doesn't mind. The Shape will tell him when it's good and ready to, Michael thinks. The shape always seems to know what it's doing; Michael decides he doesn't want to know yet.

An echo chamber encapsulates them, and it's all Loomis' doing.

The Shape told him to stop talking, because Loomis wasn't listening anyway. He hears the shape more than he sees it. He only catches glimpses of it, usually, in the corner of his eye. He's learnt not to react, because people don't take that very well, but he likes knowing the Shape is there. It makes things easier. Slowly, Michael stops speaking and soon enough he stops listening because its not like Loomis ever said anything important anyway. Michael withdraws himself enough that the Shape can get a better view. Enough that the Shape can take over for him sometimes, when the meds are far too strong or he's been in his cell for far too long and he's so cold and he can't stop his hands shaking and --

The Shape catches him.

Ten years go by and the Shape starts to show itself more clearly to him. Now it's always close by. Michael can feel it and, more importantly, he can see it, in the windows beyond the bars and in the cold, chrome fixtures of Smith's Grove. It still hasn't answered the question - it would answer, Michael thinks, if he asked. But Michael cares less and less about the why these days.

Five more years and Loomis tells him he's being re-tried. Tells him if there's any justice in the world they'll be sending him to Litchfield and Loomis can finally wash his hands of him because by god he'd tried, hadn't he?

The Shape doesn't approve of that; the Shape says, Let's go home and then devours him, submerges him in that soft, safe warmth he yearns for on the worst nights, and guides him all the way back to Lampkin Lane.

Michal is home. The haze of longing covers up the battered window shutters and the film of dust on each and every window pane, even to Michael's long since disillusioned eyes.

Michael lets the Shape do this for him. Because the Shape is all Michael's ever had. It's not the devil, not like Loomis always told him. Loomis never knew what he was talking about. No, the Shape wasn't the devil at all. It's not even evil. It's a part of Michael, the part of him that whispers in his ear and looks after him when no one else does.

It grew and grew until Michael couldn't quite tell where he stopped and the Shape started.

The front door is locked but there's a window around the side of the house that never did latch properly. Inside, every room is empty. Confusion washes over Michael as he stands in the living room of his desolate home. Upstairs is empty too; his bed is gone, so is his sister's vanity table. Haddonfield stretches out beyond the window, identical houses and identical lives and Michael can't pull himself away even as the sun starts to rise and the golden glow of it hurts his eyes after so long in the dark.

Before the exhaustion of 100 miles travelled can overwhelm him, he sees the Shape behind him in his reflection, it push him back into the darkness. Just for now, it promises.

He wakes again with blood on his lips and a sickness in his stomach.

So long has passed and Michael finds his way home, like he always does. Watches intently and tells himself, repeats over and over, that he is really there. Him.

Haddonfield never wanted him, but he is there. He'll find his way home and no one can stop it.

With a knife against his neck, Michael can't see the Shape at all. Can't hear it. Can't even feel it and for the first time in a long, long, long time, Michael is scared.

When Laurie's fingertips, dripping with his blood, brush against his, he can't help but try, as useless as it is, to hold onto her.

Endless nights and twitching limbs and comfort that no one else would give him --

It feels just like falling asleep.

#michael myers #halloween 1978 #halloween 2018 #halloween kills #halloween ends #michael myers fanfiction #sam loomis hate club

[ailar023]

The tiny spider boy

Chapter 7:

Miles slowly wakes up after a long lethargy, it has been a long time since he rested so comfortably, it is as if the nightmares have disappeared.

Little by little he tries to open his tired eyelids while his mind rewinds everything that happened until they went to sleep, and he notices that there is something that doesn't add up, the last thing he remembers is that he had fallen asleep on Peter's chest in his room, and now he is in another place surrounded by blankets, he also notices that there is just a dim light and the sound of a keyboard.

Lazily he sits up while scanning the new scenery that surrounds him, the first thing he sees in front of him is a plate with crushed cookies and a lid with milk, this makes his stomach growl for food.

As he gets up and walks towards the plate of cookies, he realizes that he is at the kitchen table, to his left he sees Peter with his laptop reading something, and further away on the wall he sees the window with the glass closed and the shutters open, allowing the last rays of the sun to enter before nightfall.

He grabs a piece of cookie, noticing that it is chocolate and starts to chew it, even though it is chopped, the pieces still feel big for him! Then he grabs the lid and takes a big sip of milk, for anyone of normal size it would be like an insignificant drop, but for Miles it is like drinking from a large pot, then he leans over the edge of the table a little curious, but he abandons it. Immediately upon seeing how high it is, this new perspective that the table is like a huge skyscraper makes him a little dizzy and he immediately retreats, stumbling between his feet.

Out of nowhere he hears Peter murmur something... but it's incomprehensible, his left arm is resting on the table and his right arm is holding the mouse where he sees the center wheel turn from time to time, and he notices that he no longer has his pajamas, his clothes It's different, there is also a cup of coffee on the right side of the laptop, he is so engrossed in reading that he didn't notice that Miles is awake.

Curiosity invades him again, as he stealthily approaches the huge laptop, he can still feel his hair standing on end and his instincts warn him of danger as he approaches, but it is no longer as strong as before because he knows that Peter It won't hurt him, but the problem is not him but the environment that surrounds him, everything is so big that it makes him feel insignificant, as if anything could accidentally kill him, that scares him, and even though the room is warm, because of his stunted body can still feel the cold penetrating his bones, causing him to automatically rub his arms and making him hesitate for a moment whether to return to the blankets or continue, but he decides to continue.

Once he reaches the side of the laptop just in front of Peter's arm, he sees on the huge screen that it has many tabs open, in the selected tab he reads the note of a missing boy now his same age, his last sighting was in Manhattan. He hears the mouse wheel spin as the page moves down to reveal a photo of the child and recognizes him, plunging him into memories.

Her name was Jane, she was about 15 years old and she was in the next cage, she had the number 1625. Jane told her that there were other children before him and that they died from the experiments. Jane was the last one before Miles arrived. He remembers that the first time he saw him he was already in very bad condition and did not survive the experiments, perishing shortly after.

These memories make Miles retreat from the screen in a cold sweat and ragged breaths until he bumps into Peter's arm, making his presence known.

-Oh, Miles, you're awake now, did you sleep well?- Peter asks him, but notices that he doesn't respond, instead he sees that his eyes are fixed on the screen.

The boy pressing his back against his arm, tightens the red fabric of his jacket and with a trembling and sharp voice tells him -He... he is... dead...-

-Did you... did you know him?- he asks in a low and worried voice, to which Miles responds while tightening the fabric -Jane was... before me...- tears begin to fall in his eyes and his lips tremble -I He said that... before him... there were others...- he says in sharp whispers -he told me... how the others died...- he suddenly turns around and hugs the red cloth as best he can, shaking non-stop -and I saw him die- he ends with a muffled scream, while he buries his head in the fabric sobbing.

Peter was stunned by her statement, all the pieces begin to fit together, what he most suspected and feared came true, the number of cages with dried blood that were surrounding Miles is the same as that of the missing children that M.J. sent him. in the Mail, and has Miles as a witness, as the only survivor.

This fills him with helplessness... just seeing Miles' state, just imagining what those children must have suffered before they died, gave him goosebumps.

-That bastard must pay! , I swear if I could I would kill him!- He thought to himself, gritting his teeth.

Coming to her senses and seeing him between sobs, she moves her right hand to grab him, her fingers gently slide under the child's delicate body and she lifts him up, leans in the chair and rests Miles on her chest, covering him completely with her hand. and caresses her tiny back with his thumb.

-I promise we'll put that guy behind bars- he says in a calm voice as he looks at the photo on the screen. -No one else will fall under his clutches, I promise- he finishes while caressing the child.

Miles feels the warmth surround him once again, the soft fabric of the red jacket underneath him as he feels the heartbeat, the hand that surrounds him creating a protective cave and the massages on his back, it is incredible how someone so big can be so gentle, this makes him feel safe and protected, he rests his head on the fabric.

Once he calms down, he rubs the tears from his irritated eyes -thank you for saving me- he finally says -you don't have to thank me for anything- Peter answers softly -it's my job to save everyone within my reach- he finishes as he stops talking massage it.

Miles, seeing that he has room to get out of the hand and knowing that nothing will happen to him, begins to climb the fabric of the jacket until he reaches the shoulder, Peter sees him and stays still. Once at the shoulder, Miles sees a gap at the level of the collarbone between the neck and the mountains of fabric created by the hood, he passes through the fabric until he reaches the neck and rests his body on the occipital triangle while using the hood as a blanket and security. He settles in and snuggles against his skin, which provides him with warmth and softness, knowing that nothing will happen to him while he is with him.

Peter can feel the boy pass through the hood and reach his neck, snuggling as he barely tickles him. You can't see it, but you can feel its small weight.

Once he no longer feels movement, he asks in a sarcastic tone -Are you settled yet, tiny spider?- to which Miles screams -Hey! I'm not a little spider!-

Peter snorts mockingly -yes, whatever you say, "tiny spider"- then he feels a small sting -Ouch! Hey! After what I did for you, is this how you thank me?- he replies in a mocking tone, hearing a small laugh -I'll stop rubbing shoulders with you if you don't call me "tinyspider" again- Miles answers.

-Okay, okay, I understand, I won't tell you like that anymore- Peter finishes as he straightens up from his chair to reach for the laptop mouse and minimize the page. He can feel the boy readjust himself on his shoulder so as not to fall.

-but I have noticed that you have spider powers like mine...- he slowly gets up from the chair and walks towards the light switch to turn it on, the last ray of the sun had already set, outside now the streets come to life under the lighting with apartment lights and Christmas decorations.

-You have no obligation to answer me, but I can assume that you didn't have those skills of yours before they caught you, right?- He asks whisperingly while pressing the key to turn on the lights of the room

-Yes- Miles answers as he covers his eyes with one arm at the sudden lighting, blinks a few times until he adjusts to the new artificial light in the room, and lowers his arm again.

--when I was in the laboratory... I heard someone saying that they wanted a spy of a small size- Miles decided to continue with a distant voice -that has skills like yours and is imperceptible...- he unconsciously squeezes the cloth in his hands and snuggles closer against the neck - that's why they started... kidnapping us...- he says with a hesitant voice - And... and they started experimenting on us... and...- at that moment his words choked, he wanted to continue declaring but his mouth would not allow it.

-That was enough statements- he says to calm the child's tension. -You were really brave to say all that, you did it very well- He goes to the double-section sofa and moderately sits down, hunching his back forward a little. -And tell me, how much you know…-

His question is cut off when the sound of a key turning in the cylinder bursts into the room, followed by the knob of the door that leads to the hallway, activating Miles's senses. By reflex, it leaves its comfort in his neck, goes to his back and falls. slides inside the red hood.

M.J enters the room -hi Pete- she says as she leaves some shopping bags on the floor and closes the door behind her.

Hello M.J- he responds as he slowly gets up to go towards her -I see that you were shopping today, did you have a girls' day or something like that?- he asks her in a playful tone to which she mockingly replies -And I see that you're moving. Like a turtle, are you getting old?- In response, Peter hears giggles behind him.

-And where is the child?- he finally asks with a concerned tone as he scans the room.

-I'm here, Mary Jane!- Miles responds with a small shout as he sticks his head out from behind Peter's shoulder. -Hello...- he finishes timidly.

-Hello Miles- he greets him subtly with a small smile knowing that the child is fine and a little more energetic compared to when he arrived, although he is still skinny -I have something for you-

Hearing that, Miles climbs back onto Peter's shoulder, grips the fabric of the hood and sits up, curious to see what he has in store, watching as M.J. He goes to one of the bags and starts taking things out while looking for something -where are you? Ah! Here!- He takes out a small bag and places it on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

the bag and spreads it on the table, revealing that it is doll clothes. -This is for you, I know it's not the best quality... but it's the best I could get-

Peter crouches down carefully, feels how Miles changes his position so as not to fall, grabs some of the clothes and examines them - it's not bad for you to put on temporarily - he says as he brings it closer to the boy - What do you think? Do you like it?-

Miles grabs the garment from Peter's fingers, it is a replica of a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a synthetic cotton fabric that imitates the real thing, when you touch it it does not look like doll clothes at all, he must admit that it is very well made, and when you look at the table you can see a whole set of t-shirts, jeans, sports pants, jackets, sweatshirts and up to 3 pairs of sneakers, a whole variation of colorful fabrics scattered adorning the table.

He looks up at M.J with a big smile and bright eyes -Thank you, it's seriously the best thing you could have given me, I love it- that moves M.J, -You're welcome Miles, you deserve all this- he responds kindly, seeing that warm smile and the knowledge that that enormous fear she had when she saw him for the first time completely evaporated, being replaced by great comfort and confidence in her new surroundings fills her with warmth.

-Before putting on your new clothes, we should check your bandages and take a bath, you really need it- Peter replies, to which M.J nods, since he arrived at the apartment he was so exhausted that he overlooked taking a bath and completely forgot. that they had put bandages on him.

-Well, let's prepare everything then- M.J says while going to the bathroom to make preparations.

Once bathed and with new bandages, he puts on the new clothes. Among the range of options he had, he put on black sports shoes with a red t-shirt, a dark gray sweatshirt, and a pair of black sneakers with red lines to match, saying goodbye forever to the evil robe

Now it felt so clean and fresh, that filthy laboratory surrounded by that icy darkness, those metal walls and those long, gloomy hallways that breathed death were left behind, replacing it with a homely atmosphere full of comfort.

#Miles Morales #Confort Miles #new clothes #Much fluff in this chapter

[wisedawn13]

College Party

It's a party—a college party—and Lan Zhan would rather be anywhere but here.

Except—

Wei Ying is here.

Wei Ying. He'd burst into Lan Zhan's life so suddenly it blinded him. He aches in the dark now, longing for the light he was shown.

Wei Ying. 

So, it's a college party at Nie Huaisang's house. Nie Mingjue is away for some reason or another. Lan Zhan didn't pay attention to what he'd said.

Lan Zhan feels lost. Untethered. A shadow in the corner, surrounded by a multitude of lights shining in various intensities. 

Wei Ying is blinding, but Lan Zhan sees when he's with him. He'd lived 18 years not knowing what it's like to truly see, to breathe, to be.

Then: Wei Ying.

Lan Zhan watches him now, shining brightly as he laughs with his head tipped back.

He aches. 

Lan Zhan didn't want to come, he doesn't do parties. He doesn't do socializing.

Wei Ying asked.

He couldn't deny him.

So, Lan Zhan stands in the corner of the large living room, nursing a red solo cup of water to his chest.

He watches. He longs. He aches. 

A shadow that's overlooked. A shadow dressed in white. A cold spot that people shiver and slink away from when they get too close, craving the warmth of light.

And Wei Ying is the brightest of them all.

Lan Zhan wants to be near him, he wants to be home. 

A girl touches Wei Ying's arm, he doesn't flinch away like Lan Zhan would. He leans in, bright smile on his face and the girl blushes. Lan Zhan bites the inside of his cheek unable to look away.

A moth drawn to his flame.

Wei Ying is the Sun and Lan Zhan is Pluto. 

A small, distant ball of uninhabitable ice that can do nothing but orbit the Sun. Longing for its warmth, never moving closer.

Why can't he move closer?

Someone else, a boy, touches Wei Ying's shoulder. The water in Lan Zhan's cup might as well be vinegar. 

All sounds around him are muffled and distant. Molasses sinking in water.

He doesn't hear when Nie Huaisang suggests the game.

Lan Zhan sees the shift in energy; an excited thrum bursting through the room. He closes himself off from it with a sigh, letting his gaze drop. 

He stares at the clear liquid in his cup, ripples gliding across the surface with each minute movement. He wants to be still—an icy, jade statue people admire from afar but ultimately move on from—he wants to shake. Feel. Live.

The darkness he's lived in is heavy and cold. 

"Fuck!" A squeaked out moan.

It breaks him from his reverie to find Wei Ying and that same girl from earlier, against the wall. Close. Too close. He's pinned her to it and she is dwarfed by him as he looks around her. Their faces are inches apart.

Lan Zhan stops breathing. 

The girl's face is red and she shrinks down. "Fuck!" she says again. "Oh my god!"

Wei Ying laughs, head thrown back, eyes scrunched closed. Warm. Bright. Blinding.

"Wei-xiong wins again!" Nie Huaisang's voice pipes up as Wei Ying steps back to let the girl drift away. 

Wei Ying turns to the crowd around him, winks, and speaks. "Who's up for the challenge?"

Lan Zhan watches as someone shifts forward and into Wei Ying's space. That boy. He says something to Wei Ying, making him laugh and wink again, letting his own hand drop onto his shoulder. 

Lan Zhan stares, unable to look away. Stuck in his gravitational pull.

Wei Ying meets his gaze over the boy's shoulder and something shutters in his expression. So fleeting Lan Zhan would have missed it if he'd blinked.

He doesn't blink.

Wei Ying smiles at Lan Zhan. It aches. 

Lan Zhan watches, hands clenched, cup bending under his grip. He's tense. Can't breathe. Can't look away.

He watches.

He watches as Wei Ying shifts the boy back towards the wall but not touching it. Wei Ying's expression darkens and Lan Zhan feels a sickening twist in his gut. 

Wei Ying stares at the boy—who's already seeming quite flustered, eyes wide in anticipation—and then, all at once, places a hand on the back of his head, his other on the boy's shoulder, and then shifts his weight. He leans in as he pushes the boy back into the wall. 

Wei Ying is caging him in, the boy's face is red as he lets out a small whimper that makes Lan Zhan's blood boil. They're close. So close. Too close.

The crowd around claps and whistles. Wei Ying finally steps back letting the boy stand up straight again.

"Another one down!" 

The crowd laughs at Nie Huaisang's commentary.

"Is no one up for the challenge?" Wie Ying taunts, eyes shining with flirtatious mirth.

Lan Zhan clenches his jaw. Wei Ying's eyes meet Lan Zhan's again for a moment. A moment that feels like an eternity. A challenge. At him. 

And Lan Zhan is stuck in his pull, following where he calls, blinded and warm. Safe.

The party melts away, there's only Wei Ying and Lan Zhan in this moment. No one else matters.

Wei Ying's gaze melts the ice around Lan Zhan. His light casts away the shadow. 

In that split second, Lan Zhan moves. He stalks across the room with purpose, shoving his cup into someone's chest, not paying attention to who or if they grab it.

Wei Ying is all he sees.

Lan Zhan sees Wei Ying's eyes widen a fraction before something dark overcomes them. 

It's all Lan Zhan can do to not let out a growl at the sight.

Wei Ying smirks up at him, warmth bursting through Lan Zhan. Igniting every part of him.

He reaches Wei Ying quickly. Lan Zhan grabs both of his wrists in one hand, his other hand rests on the back of his head. 

Then, in one fluid motion, Lan Zhan fully twists them around and pushes Wei Ying into the wall as he leans over him.

Wei Ying lets out a short, choked moan before clamping his mouth shut. Eyes wide. Face red.

Lan Zhan does growl this time, glaring down at Wei Ying. 

They're close. So close. But not really touching. Their faces a hair's breadth apart; puffs of hot breath brushing against lips.

Wei Ying's eyes glaze over briefly at the sound of Lan Zhan growling. "Fuck," he moans quietly. A whisper. "Holy shit. Lan Zhan." 

Lan Zhan stares. "Wei Ying," he breathes. The easiest thing he could ever say. "Wei Ying."

Wei Ying lets out a small whimper, shifting down slightly. "Lan Zhan~" he whines. Pleads. Begs.

He shifts suddenly bringing his body closer to Lan Zhan's. Pulled close. Warm and bright. 

Connected across most of their bodies, as much as this position will allow. Foreheads touching.

Not enough.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says. Solid. Affirming. Questioning.

"Wei Ying," he says in return. An answer. A question. Longing. 

They stay there, suspended in space. Crashed together. Breathing in the other.

He doesn't know who moves first, but there's a brush of lips. Quiet and tentative. Then hot, heavy, needy.

They meld together as if they were meant to be. Made for each other. A matching set. 

It's frantic. It's languid. They shift fluidly, sinking into the kiss—into each other.

Lan Zhan hates parties. He hates socializing. But Wei Ying asked him to be here and he wouldn't change it for the world.

He's vaguely aware that there are people here. Watching. 

He just can't bring himself to care. Not when everything he's ever wanted or needed is right here, in his grasp, kissing him with fervour.

And Lan Zhan knows.

He knows this was always meant to be. He was never too different. Too dark. Too cold. Too still. 

They compliment.

They balance.

For without light, there can be no shadows. 

----------

Well! Here's a sudden threadfic that came to me in the middle of the night whilst I was reading another fic. My brain suddenly though "LZ KABEDON WY OUT OF JEALOUSY" and was possessed 😅 I hope you enjoyed my small mess of a fic!

Link to thread

#wangxian #threadfic #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #from twitter #wisedawn13 #fanfic #fanfiction

[feralmoonlight]

I'm loving the Lincoln idea cuz I think Slueth jesters has swallowed me whole as well 🤣

I understand that Moon in this situation is undecided. But I would like to know if the reason they do doordash is for fazbear or if it's to try and survive in the real world and that is currently the only way they can reliably make money?

Also I can definitely see Moon being the type to find whatever Y/N's job is to be extremely interesting (even if he will never admit it) and try to do whatever Y/N does for a job. Like if they are a digital artist of some kind- Moon tries to make digital paintings that he tries to keep away from Sun ect.

IF ONLY MOON WAS PROGRAMED FOR MORE THAN CHILDRENS DRAWINGS But that's cute as hell, oh my god. I could see him starting out with the default level of skill from the daycare days and just... This is not working. This isn't right. How do humans turn into printers??? what the fuck?????? So he'd end up both frustrated and also determined if he tried to copy that. Sun treats it like it's just adult arts and crafts but Moon being more like... Less active with the kids in that regard from back then just sees it as a normal hobby activity and it being something HE could do to help make money possibly instead of being just as shielded off from the world as YN would be (though not by choice, but he still can't really be trusted around humans safely) he doesn't have that many options. THOUGH this actually does kind of circle back to a headcanon I was debating pulling in for... technically 2 things I'm working on, but more for Sun cause he's more active with arts and crafts, of him having his own actual painting stuff that he works on in private during the hours the daycare is closed and painting pictures based on the descriptions the kids give him of the outside world, and also the images he's seen on their clothing so it would be a kind of surreal style of cartoony trees and more realistic ones, not totally gathering the concept that they're not both real, but also things from the Fazbear approved kids library of books for story/naptime they'd have with the varying art styles. Kinda sad before he gets to see the actual outside world and realizes he really doesn't understand how anything beyond the pizzaplex looks. Same for Moon though, cause even though he's got more free range of the whole place, he wouldn't have seen the world outside the shutters like the other animatronics can during the day so I AM REALLY digging the concept of them becoming artists in their other spare time. THOUGH cicrling around again, I don't see them still being "employed" by the Faz, this probably taking place a bit later after the plex initially burns to the ground and they end up as sort of a refurbished piece (stares at copper cogs longingly) that either slipped away from whoever restored them for (pick a shitty reason) or they're now working 'for' the person that refurb'd them that's still in that stage of treating them like a tool and not like a person which would also push Sun's anxiety and Moon's distaste for people into a more focal point (and also leave room for them to decide they're done with that guy and just... dip and try and move in with YN) for future plot~ (unrelated I have been eating up Sleuth Jesters this week piece by peace and it's giving me life~ I'm not all the way through yet though)

#AU Hoard #Doordash AU

[dreamingpartone]

HDM FAN WEEK | Day Four: Favourite Scene/Moment

When she saw the answer, she relaxed at once.

#lyra silvertongue #will parry #his dark materials #hdmsourcefanweek #hdm fanart #the subtle knife #doodles and miscellania #pantalaimon #is also there as a lil' moth #i love moth pan #i truly have too many favourite moments to count but to continue my dark tsk comic trend...... #i know the murderer quote is used constantly #AND QUITE RIGHT; it's the best #but tbh i think we sleep (ha) on the moment afterwards way too often #like this little scene basically gives you lyra in a nutshell: #has just met this kid (who gave her a mad bruise but cooked her dinner) #sneaks in to stare at him while he's asleep #finds out he's a murderer #thinks ''oh sweet so he's useful AND cool'' #and then closes the shutters in his room so the sUN DOESN'T GET IN HIS FACE WHEN HE WAKES UP??? #lyra..........curious wild tender-hearted girl #hdm spoilers #hdm book spoilers

[liquefied-cat]

Oh So Special.

copium with bonten mikey because i am superior and sad

Synopsis!: Mikey takes you out for sweets :')

Warnings!: None, just fluffy stuff that's pretty sweet.

A/N: so sweet i could cry. this is purely self indulgent, based on my emotions when i was sadge so it may seem ooc sorry y'all but enjoy 💙

"You like sweet things, yeah? Want ice cream? We're pretty close to an ice cream parlor..."

Mikey asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down the sidewalk and trying his hardest to hide the faintest blush on his face while holding your hand.

As much as he hates to admit it, the smile on your face has Mikey's heart wanting to burst right out of his chest. He hides his emotions well behind that static void in his eyes, but he truly does love you for the person you are. Brightening his dim world with every little action, it drives him wild how well and how good you are for him. He treats you well too, and doesn't mind you coming over during meetings to spend time with him. You're the only one he makes exceptions for, and that's like a privilege on it's own.

You tell Mikey that you do like ice cream, as you both zone in towards the parlor.

"Good, cause I was getting it whether you liked it or not."

He mutters, laughing near the end of his statement.

Mikey gets gradually closer to the ice cream parlor doors, walking inside the shop and smiling to himself. He gathers his money and pays for both of you when it was your turns in line, and you both sat outside at a table under a red and white umbrella. You both got your favorites, and ate them calmly. However, Mikey looked a bit on edge. How could he be on edge though? The sun was bright, the air was warm, blue sky all around, and the cool wind was all you had to cool down from the heat. It was hot, as it was summer.

Mikey kept getting quick glances up at you. You continued to eat your ice cream, because you didn't mind as a silly smile came on your face when you suddenly got brain freeze. It was only a problem when you suddenly heard a shutter from a phone. Your head snaps to him, only to be presented with him sending a photo to someone.

"Mikey... Who was that?"

You suddenly say, making the man jump and close his phone to go back to having his ice cream.

It's been sitting there a while now. It started to sweat, and it probably melted a little but you don't tell him that.

"You know how busy I usually am, right?"

You nod slowly, wondering if this will be his way of getting away from you today.

As much as you loved Mikey, something always came up. Everytime you're doing something together, Mikey would get a text from one of his men and it's game over for the rest of your plans. Like rain on a humid day, it always seems to happen one way or another. You were dealing with it, as it's the natural consequence of being with Mikey but damn. Did it really have to happen whenever you guys were really enjoying each other? It was like they could see him having a good time with you through his phone. You sigh, giving him time to continue. Practically waiting to hear the, "Well due to so-and-so texting me, we have to cut it short." Talk.

"Well... Sanzu just messaged me and-"

You left him no room to finish, you just got up at that point.

You felt as though you understood where it was headed. You pictured the talk in your mind. Sanzu messages him, he needs to leave, he gives you some money for yourself and a kiss and then he's calling up a ride to whatever he needs to do, leaving you standing dumb on the pavement. You weren't going to have it today, you were going to leave before he could make the thought even known. You felt hot tears build up at the corner of your eyes. You hated whenever Mikey left, because he always does somehow. Always left you feeling stupid as he drives off in someone else's car to take of whatever business deal was needed.

You understood full well these were just consequences, but sometimes you just couldn't stand it. You turned away from Mikey, holding your arms and shaking a little. You didn't want to cry in public, didn't want to make him look like a bad boyfriend in front of people at an ice cream parlor. It wasn't working as judging eyes were already on Mikey and understanding looks were headed your way. Mikey jolted, sweating a little and getting worried for not only you, but his own image. It wasn't long before he stood up and was standing next to your turnt away body. He wraps an arm around your frame and pulls you into an endearing hug. It's a strong one, different for the softer more careless ones he gives you.

"I know you're tired of hearing me say that by now."

Your eyes close, and now you're crying hot tears into his shirt.

"But... I already told Sanzu to take an executive..."

He felt his face heat up so quick.

He didn't think it took this much just to say what he wanted to say, his arms tight around your frame. He buries his head into your neck and you can feel the burning heat coming from his face. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent to calm himself before pulling away and showing his phone to the current messages with Sanzu since his words were literally failing him. You read the messages through small tears.

Boss, we got another deal in order.

Good, but can you take an executive for it?

Why?

It was then the picture of you, smiling so innocently with a hand on your cheek from enjoying the ice cream popped up. That's what the phone shutter was for.

Oh. Can't you cut it a little short?

No. Not today. I showed you that I'm already busy. Take an executive.

You could probably feel the hostility in the text Mikey sent Sanzu, to the point it looked like it even took Sanzu a while to process what Mikey said before texting back.

Understood, Boss.

Mikey saw you were finished and closed his phone.

"I'm spending today with you. To say sorry for all the times I left you standing there."

He always felt hurt whenever his driver started to drive away from the date spot, having him fix the rear view mirror to see you and when he only saw you standing there, he could hear his heart audibly break.

"Since this doesn't cover everytime, I'll just be doing this... Close to all the times I left you there. Which was everytime we agreed to a date."

He started to rub his neck, before grabbing you by the hand and running away from the parlor and down the sidewalk.

Leaving both ice creams melted and on the table, Mikey turns and gives you the biggest smile he could. The first one you've seen in a while. You remember the smile, it was when you first started dating.

"I'm spending the rest of the day with you, so buckle up and enjoy the ride."

tagging: @gojosimpehe @lucylicious and @mytotaleclipse because i love them

#mikey x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #bonten mikey #mikey x you #comfort #I CRIED WRITING THIS #i love it tho #muah muah

[beels-burger-babe]

Storm Clouds on a Sunny Day

***Oooooo Teen!MC! Thank you for the request @lovevictoire! Now, although I think I'm technically Gen z??? (I could be a millennial. I have no idea). I have like 0 sense of most pop culture and probably won't be able to write that classic gen z chaotic humour properly, so I'm not going to attempt. What I can do is the hurt/comfort aspect of this which I LOVE! So, let's do this. I hope you enjoy it. ((Oh and before I forget *hugs*))***

Summary: MC has always been a happy positive ray of light that brought joy with them wherever they went; at least that's what the brothers and the other exchange students would tell you. But when they suddenly start getting quiet and begin isolating themselves, everyone is concerned.

TW: descriptions of grief.

In the darkness of the Devildom, you were the sun.

Since arriving in the dark, cruel world of the demons, you had reminded them how to smile, how to laugh, how to love. With you around, it was like the brothers had another sibling again. For the other exchange students, you were a breath of fresh amongst all the horror and despair of the Devildom.

In short, everyone had come to love and be incredibly fond of the teenage human that; which is why they noticed instantly when you weren't acting like yourself.

For starters, you had skipped breakfast, which greatly concerned Beel. The friendly giant had to go up and bring you your food afterwards.

He gently knocked on your door with one hand as he held a plate with way too much food on it in the other. "MC? Are you awake? You missed breakfast."

There was a small curse from the other side before he heard some shuffling. The door cracked open to reveal you wrapped in a bundle of blankets. It wasn't until you looked up that Beel got a good look at your face and his stomach dropped.

Your eyes were tinged red with tear tracks stained onto your cheeks. Your bottom lip was still trembling from the effort of not breaking down into sobs. There was not a trace of the sunshine child that you usually were inside of your stormy sad eyes.

Beel's heart broke as you still attempted to give him a small smile and took the plate from him. "Th-Thanks Beel."

He kept a hand on the door to prevent you from closing it. "MC, are you alright? What happened?"

Your eyes widened a little and you quickly wiped at your cheeks. "I-I'm just not feeling that well. Can...Can you tell Lucifer I'm taking a sick day?"

Beel nodded as concern grew stronger and stronger inside of him. "Of course. Whatever you need."

You weren't actually sick, Beel could tell that much. What you were was heartbroken. Something had reached into your soul and shattered it into pieces. He to ask you what it was. He wanted to reassure you that everything would be okay. But instead, he let you close the door and hurried back to his brothers.

His brothers looked at him skeptically as he arrived, noting the lack of a tiny human alongside him. It was Belphie, however, who noticed the distressed look on Beelzebub's face. "Beel, is everything alright? You look upset."

Beel simply shook his head and looked over to Lucifer. "MC has asked me to tell you that they would like to take a sick day."

Everyone was instantly on their feet in worry.

"Sick? What kind of illness? I can get any medicine they might need and look up the quickest way for them to recover." Satan quickly stated as he began to move towards the kitchen.

Belphie nodded and picked up his pillow. "If they're sick, they'll need rest right? I'll go up there and help them sleep better."

Mammon moved to go with Belphie. "I'll come with ya. They'll feel better with if their favourite's there with them."

Belphie growled and shoved Mammon as Levi spoke up. "I-I mean, I doubt they'd want to spend the entire day with me, but at the very least I can provide them with some movies and games for entertainment. In fact, it might be easier if we just, um, m-move them to my room."

Mammon and Belphie were now snapping at Levi rather than each other.

Asmo scrunched up his nose in disgust and put up his hands. "Yeah, no thanks. I love MC, but I'll leave you guys to handle all the snot and vomit thank you very much. Tell them when they're healthy, I'll give them a spa day, just the two of us."

Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boys, Beel hadn't even told us what is wrong with them yet," everyone froze and turned to Beelzebub. Lucifer nodded and gestured for him to continue. "As you were saying, Beel."

Beel shifted uncomfortably at the attention. "Right. So, I don't think they're actually sick."

Lucifer rose an eyebrow at this as an air of defence grew around him. "You think they would lie?"

Beel huffed in annoyance and shook his head. "No. I don't think they would. But when they answered the door, they didn't look sick. They looked like they were grieving," everyone breathed in sharply at the statement, but Beel continued. "They honestly looked like they had been crying since midnight. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't get any sleep at all last night."

Lucifer frowned and finally made a move towards the door. "I, and I alone, will go speak with them. We don't want to overcrowd them. In the meantime, someone please contact Simeon just in case they truly are sick and Beel misinterpreted it," he ignored the several shouts of protest as he walked to your room.

He knocked softly on the door twice before carefully opening the door. "MC? Beelzebub informed me that you aren't feeling-"

Lucifer cut himself off as he saw you hugging your knees to your chest in bed, sobbing your heart out. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside you, gently placing a hand on your back. "MC, what's the matter? I've never seen you this upset before."

You didn't answer. You merely turned towards him and buried your face in his chest as you clung to his shirt. Lucifer quickly wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

It was almost as if he could feel your sorrow within the sounds of your cries. The way they shuttered and cracked with every inhale and vibrated with pure agony on every exhale. You were trembling violently in his arms in a way that he hadn't felt since-

Since he held his brothers after Lilith's death.

Realization came to him as he glanced over and noticed the lightly crumped picture of you and another human on your side table. His breath caught in his throat and he held you tighter. "Oh MC," he whispered softly. "I am so sorry."

He held you there, letting your tears stain his shirt without a single care. He held you as your sobs softened into sniffles. He held you as your head lolled to the side and you finally gave in to sleep.

Lucifer had been about to fall asleep himself when he noticed the door open. Simeon, Luke and Solomon stood there with equal expressions of concern.

Luke took one look at your tear-stained face before a flicker of fury and angelic protectiveness flashed across his face. He opened his mouth to shout at Lucifer, but was stopped as a hand came over his mouth.

Solomon looked down at him sternly. "They're sleeping, Luke, and clearly in need of it. You don't want to wake them."

Luke huffed and slapped Solomon's hand away before going over to the bed and climbing in beside you and Lucifer.

Simeon pulled out a bag that clinked and clattered from the vials within it. "Satan had said that there was a possibility MC was ill?"

Lucifer sighed and continued to rub circles into your back while Luke gently dried your face with a handkerchief. "Unfortunately it seems the only illness they have is a broken heart." He nodded to the picture on the nightstand. "They appear to have lost someone. Today must be an anniversary of some sort that reminded them of it."

Both Solomon and Simeon's faces softened at the explanation. Simeon put the bag away. "I'm afraid I don't have anything that can help with that."

Solomon nodded. "It's a feeling I believe we are all familiar with," he stood in silent thought before snapping his fingers and grinning. "I know what will cheer them up! Some soup! It most certainly cheers me up whenever I'm upset. I'll go make them a pot right away," he smiled proudly as he left the room, missing the look of horror on everyone else's face.

"Oh my," Simeon began, "I better go supervise and make sure he doesn't accidentally poison them. Luke, do you wish to come?"

He shook his head and hugged you. "I'm not leaving them."

Simeon smiled fondly and glanced up to Lucifer who shrugged. "So long as he doesn't mind being the presence of a demon, I suppose he can stay."

Luke grumbled and continued looking at your hand as he held his up to it and compared sizes. "If they were able to fall asleep around you and you were able to comfort them...maybe you're not so bad."

Simeon raised an eyebrow in shock and laughed a little. "Well there you have it," he looked back to Lucifer. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

He nodded and watched the older angel leave.

@thegrimgrinningghost

Although the day was a rough one for you, there was not a second where you felt alone. There was always someone to hold you, to listen to you, and comfort you when you needed it most.

On days when sadness and despair threatened to cloud over the Devildom's only source of sunshine, the lords of the Devildom and your friends would be there to keep you warm until the sun could shine again.

***I hope you enjoyed this cute little comfort fic! Thanks again for the request @lovevictoire!***

TAGLIST

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #gender neutral main character #gn!mc #fan fic #my writing #obey me requests #b requests #requests #teen!mc #teen mc #teen reader

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - Staying

(Gif not mine)

A/n: im screaming because I watched the first episode of Shadow and bone and AHHHHHH!!!!!! So I'm providing you with this!!! (Requests are open)

Warnings: Angst, Sad Kaz, death, fluff, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Kaz see's something happen to you and thinks the worst

(This is Kaz's pov)

Kaz shouldn't have fell. Not for her, she deserved so much better. He should have stopped himself.

He remembers the first time he sees her; blood all over her dress, knives in her hands, dead bodies littered around her.

But her skin looked like silk, her hair was let loose flowing with the wind, and her eyes. Oh her eyes looked like the sun and the stars in the sky combined.

She was beautiful.

He closed his eyes breathing in a shuttering breath. She is gone. He needed to remind himself of that, that she wasn't here anymore. She wasn't here to try and make him smile. She wasn't here to hold his hand with the gloves or without. She wasn't here to be with him anymore.

Tears stinged his eyes and threaten to burst, but he needed to close himself off. To not feel anything anymore.

Kaz Brekker has a lot of regrets.

He used to regret spending time with her, he used to tell himself to push her away. To let her go.

He wished he hadn't let her go on the mission.

He got up from his desk, don't think about her. She's not real. She's not real. She's dead. She's not-

"I'm back."

He whipped his head around to where the girl, no woman sat.

"Come to haunt me." He grumbles and turns his head back towards his papers, still standing.

His legs feel weak with longing, and his bad leg hurts a bit more than it should. His head feels like a bowling ball and his mind is worse. Surprisingly there's a wound from the last mission that he hadn't stitched up, but he's still waiting to meet her in death. Kaz knows the wound will get infected and eventually kill him.

Or the lack of sleep will.

Y/n or just his imagination quirks her head to the side and studies him, a concerned expression takes over her dazzling features.

"Are you okay?" The figment of his imagination asks. Oh it sounds like her though melodious voice, and it would be just like Y/n to be worried over a barrel boss.

"Do I look like it?" He snaps at her. He remembers trying to push her away with dirtyhands. Now he wished he hadn't snapped at her, even if it was a figment of his imagination.

"Sorry." Kaz apologizes to the dead girl.

Y/n frowns and comes up to him, he takes a step back. She takes a couple of more steps forward as he keeps on limping backwards. It's like a dance now one wants to show.

They keep this up till his back hits the wall and there's only about an inch of space in between them.

Kaz can't breath, she's so close to him but she'll disappear as soon as he touches her. Even if it was fake he didn't want her to leave.

Silence overcomes the room like placing a blanket on a child. It engulfs them both, warmly suffocating them both making them enable to say a word.

"Your not real." He finally manages to choke out.

Y/n's eyes widen and she seems to have an understanding of something. She was always quick to know what his plans were, they were like different but yet the same people.

Were.

"I'm here." She whispers, and her face leans into his, but their bodies not yet touching.

Her breath fans out upon his face, but it couldn't be real. He saw her dead body hit the earth like a sack of kruge.

"Your dead." He retorts. She flinches hard, like the words physically burn her.

"I just got knocked out Kaz, and I had a couple of wounds. I had to go with Nina to help stitch me up and rest for a couple of days."

Her face his just a mere millimetre from his and their bodies finally touch as Y/n presses herself up to him.

"I was worried when you didn't come check on me." She mutters, he almost doesn't hear it she says it so quiet.

She connects there lips together and he knows. She's there.

He pulls her impossibly closer by warping his arms around her waist, her hands go to his raven hair and she tugs a bit.

An audible moan tears through his lips into her mouth and Kaz can feel her smile.

The universe was bending to their will, it must have been for he had never felt so powerful and vulnerable at the same time. In this moment he knew he would never push her away again.

Their lips break apart but their bodies are still untangled together.

He buries his head in her shoulder and he for the first time since he was nine years old he openly sobs.

The cries are small and terribly beautiful. But they shake Kaz's very soul to the bone.

"Your alive, your alive." He breaths her in, still holding onto her waist never wanting to let her go.

She lifts his head and wips his tears away. She takes his hand and leads him to the bed.

"I won't leave you. Ever." The girl whispers as they lay together.

They just stay there, wrapped up into each other doing nothing else because - they weren't there yet. But they would be, one day.

"Promise me something." Y/n says as she turns to face him.

Kaz only nodes but holds her tighter to him.

"Try not to push me away again okay? I just can't go another day knowing the person I love-" She throws her hands over her mouth and tries to wiggle out of his grip.

"I love you too." He whispers in her ear, bringing her closer to him again. He know's the words will only ever me hers.

Y/n shoves her head into his chest, she let her hands go to his sides then her face turned into one of confusion.

"Kaz!" She says getting up out of his bed.

"You have a wound!" He grins guiltily and gets up after her.

"Stitch it up?"

A string of curses rung through the slat that night, and let me tell you. No one had ever talked like that. (And this was the barrel).

Words 1038

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix and you! I just own the plot!

-thedelusionreaderbitch

#six of crows #Kaz brekker #Kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #one shot #wylan van sunshine #jesper fahey #nina zenik #inej ghafa #Matthias hevlar #fanfiction #crooked kingdom #fluff #angst #fanfic

[bangtanreadingcorner]

tall, blonde and gorgeous • jeon jeongguk

plot — when jeongguk dyes his hair blonde, it might just be the push you both need to finally talk about the feelings you have for each other.

words — 5.7K

You woke up in the middle of the night, craving some apple juice. You knew there was in the kitchen fridge, because Taehyung always made sure to stock up whenever you come for a weekend visit.

Speaking of your brother, he was passed out next to you, the two of you sharing his King sized bed while you visited. Like you always did. It was mostly just you two, but sometimes Jimin would join you. You don't mind, you known both of them since forever and Jimin is your brother as much as Taehyung is.

Quietly, you got out of bed. You didn't want to wake your brother, he works so hard and needs his rest.

The dorm was silent, which was a little weird because there was usually always someone up. It was only when on tour that all seven of the boys would sometimes be asleep at once, but even that was rare.

Shrugging it off, you padded the rest of the way to the kitchen, only to come to a halt in the doorway, freezing.

Someone with a mop of blond hair stood with his back to you, digging through the fridge.

The digging through the fridge wasn't what surprised you, no, it was the hair because as far as you knew, no one in Bangtan had blonde hair right now.

You knew because your brother was always spamming your phone, whenever he had time, with pictures, videos, voice notes and messages. You and Taehyung have always been close and he always made the effort to keep you up-to-date with his life but also made a point to keep you out of the spotlight, which you appreciate more than you tell him. Come to think of it, more than half your gallery is made up of pictures of Bangtan. The other half is made up of your rare selfies, pictures with your friends, of your dog or your brother's dog.

The point is, if someone colored their hair, you would know within five minutes - with pictures and everything. And Taehyung hasn't spammed your phone since yesterday morning when he and Jimin accidentally got Hobi instead of Jeongguk with a water balloon.

So, the question is, who is the blonde currently rummaging through the fridge?

You looked him up and down, noticing the very nice, very broad and clearly strong shoulders covered with a black t-shirt that hid the rest of the guy's figure. Your gaze went down a nice ass and long legs that was wearing grey sweatpants and finally stopping at bare feet.

Something flashed in your mind.

Wait a minute.

You know that ass. You've looked at it enough over the last seven years to recognize it anywhere in a crowd.

"Jeongguk?" You called, a little satisfied when he jumped upright, turning to you with wide eyes. Your heart decided to double its pace.

"Ah, tiny, you're awake. I thought you were sleeping, trying to grow some more." He teased, his heartbeat slowly calming down from the freight you gave him. His eyes quickly scanned you over, and he had to suppress a smile when he saw the bright orange pajamas. It was ugly as hell - he made sure to tell you many times but you always just roll your eyes at him or if you were feeling particularly moody, you'd flip him a finger.

Now, ordinarily, you'd snap at him for calling you tiny because you aren't (it doesn't matter that Jimin is 12 centimeters taller than you, it doesn't make you tiny, short maybe, but not tiny) but right now, you could only focus on one thing.

"Y-your hair." You stuttered, which was new because you never stutter in Jeongguk's presence. Your heart may race, your legs may turn into jelly, your hands may tremble and your stomach may fill with butterflies but you never stutter. And you never let him know what you're feeling.

He ran a hand through his freshly dyed blonde hair, only a little self-conscious with the intense stare you were giving him. He couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. "Yeah, I just wanted a change, something different."

"Well, it's definitely different. Mission accomplished." You informed him, walking into the kitchen fully, your voice miraculously even as you were internally panicking. This was like that time he dyed his hair pink all over again. Oh god. You hoped you could form coherent sentences this time around instead of just giving him the silent treatment for two weeks.

Like you said, you don't stutter around Jeongguk. Ever.

Jeongguk tilted his head at you curiously. "Bad different?"

"No!" You exclaimed, not wanting him to think that. You shook your head vigorously. "Not all. It looks good actually. Really good." So good, in fact, that your fingers itched to touch, to run your hands through it, play with the dyed locks of hair.

Jeongguk looked at you in pleasant surprise, lips stretching into that familiar bunny smile that made you swoon. He bit his bottom lip before saying. "I think that's the first time you ever paid me a compliment."

You frowned, "That can't be true."

"It is." Jeongguk's tone was matter-of-fact. "In seven years, you've never once given me a compliment. I would have remembered."

You pursed your lips, a sudden surge of guilt rushing through your chest at the look on his face - hurt.

"Well, you get lots of compliments from other people, right?" You said, trying to deflect because you never once thought that by staying quiet around Jeongguk, just to hide your feelings, that you'd hurt him.

"But never from you." Jeongguk said, words low and heavy with something you didn't understand. He stared at you, eyes open and strangely vulnerable. You didn't understand what he was trying to tell you.

You frowned at him again, "What does it matter?"

Something in Jeongguk's eyes shuttered at that, like he let you see something but now he pulled his walls back up. You still didn't understand it and he wasn't volunteering an answer.

Finally, he shrugged, "It doesn't, I guess." and he turned back to the refrigerator.

You had a feeling he was lying but you weren't going to call him out because that wasn't your place and it wasn't the kind of thing you and Jeongguk did. Whenever things seemed to go in a direction where feelings were involved - and not about other people but about each other, like what you think of Jeongguk and what he thinks of you - one of you stops the conversation before it can go deeper.

You tease each other good-naturedly, comfortable with each other because you are the same age, and you've listened to him rant when he was frustrated and even held his hand at times when he cried because the pressure of it all got a little to much.

It struck you, suddenly, how Jeongguk always comes to you first. Whether he's stupidly happy about something, or whether he's sad and wants a shoulder to cry on. You two could talk about anything under the sun or moon but whenever it comes to your feelings for each other, you shut down. You've never even admitted that you are, at the very least, friends and that you do care about each other.

You wondered if maybe it was time to change that.

You looked at Jeongguk's back and wanted to ask if thinks of you as a friend, if nothing else but what came out was, "Can you hand me a juice box please?"

He did so, without a word, and you decided to go back to bed. You stopped in the doorway again, turning back to him. "Jeongguk?"

"Yeah?" His tone, his eyes, was strangely hopeful and it made your heart twist. You looked at him, and somehow fell a little bit more in love with him.

"You know that I care about you, right? I mean, I know we've never talked about it, but I do." Your hands was shaking and you gripped the juice box. Luckily you didn't press the straw in yet or your hands would be full of apple juice right now.

The smile Jeongguk gave you was brilliant and it made your heart feel lighter than ever. He nodded his head, "I know."

"Good."

"I-" He started, breath catching a bit but forced himself to go on because if you could be brave, then so could he. "I care about you, too."

You grinned at him before turning away and going back to Taehyung's room, a definite skip in your step.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Taehyung asked eagerly the next morning after breakfast, when everyone cooed and screeched over Jeongguk's hair.

You were back in your brother's room, scrolling through your Twitter feed. You looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. When it comes to Taehyung it can anything from the lines for a song he's working on to his next prank on one of the members.

"Of what?" You asked.

"About Jeonggukie." He said, waving with a hand at his head, so that the meaning was clear.

"Ah, you mean his transformation from tall, dark and handsome to tall, blonde and gorgeous?"

"Yes! What do you think?" Your brother looked at you expectantly.

"I think my previous question is an answer to that question." You smirked at him, snickering when he just scoffed before pouting at you.

"I hate it when you go all smartass on me." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I love you, too." You sing-songed with a lighthearted giggled.

* * *

Later that afternoon, you decided to watch a movie and was joined by Jeongguk, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin.

"Jeongguk-ah." You called from where you were sitting on the two seater couch next to Hoseok. Jimin and Taehyung was laying cuddled on the three seater and Jeongguk was sitting on the floor, against the front of the coffee table. You weren't sure where the rest are right now.

He turned to you, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What do you want?"

You gaped at him, "What makes you think I want something?"

"Because you only call me 'Jeongguk-ah' when you want something." He was matter-of-fact.

The other three was watching the two of you instead of the movie.

"Like what? I rarely ask you anything." You frowned at him.

"Like getting your phone from Taehyung-hyung's room, making you tea, bringing you a blanket, getting your food." Jeongguk said and you huffed. Okay, so maybe you do that but this time what you want would benefit him too.

"Okay, first of all, you didn't have to do any of what I asked, you know. And second, you'll like this too." You assured him, then added after a moment. "I think."

Jeongguk looked at you warily as Jimin and Taehyung exchanged smirks. "What do you want?"

"I want to play with your hair." You shrugged nonchalantly, not showing a hint of how nervous you are, no showing how it took you the whole morning to pluck enough courage together to ask.

Jeongguk's mouth fell open in surprise, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I mean I've always liked your hair but this blonde hair is really doing for you." You smiled at him, a little more confident when you saw more confusion than anything else on his face. Satisfaction rolled through you when you noticed his red ears.

"Whatever, fine." He muttered in agreement, looking away from you as he stood up right and came to sit down infront of you.

"Thank you." You grinned, clapping your hands in glee as you crossed your legs on the couch, knees touching Jeongguk's shoulders.

"Just don't tangle it." Jeongguk said, eyes fixed on the TV screen.

"I won't." You promised before reaching out and running your hands through his hair. It was just as soft as you hoped, instead of being dry and rough from the dye - it made you feel giddy.

Jeongguk tensed under the touch for a second but relaxed when you continued your gentle ministrations, nails scraping softly against his scalp. You tuned out the rest of the room, having watched the movie before - you've watched all the Marvel movies with Jeongguk at least three times - and continued playing with the blonde tresses.

Still, something caught your attention and you said, "Jimin-oppa, put away that phone."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said innocently, hiding his phone behind his back.

"Sure you don't."

It was silent for fifteen seconds before he whined, "But no one will believe me if I don't have proof."

"They'll believe Hobi-oppa." You retorted, nodding to the ray of sunshine sitting besides you.

Jimin huffed indignantly but dutifully put his phone away.

You continued playing with Jeongguk's hair, twirled and braided and separated and bunched it together like a pineapple stem atop his hair. The movie finished and Taehyung picked another one and you still played with Jeongguk's hair.

Twenty minutes into the new movie, Jeongguk's head fell back, onto your legs, eyes closed. You gaped at the blonde.

"Jeongguk." You whispered, not wanting to wake him if he is sleeping but not sure if he's playing either.

"Did he fall asleep?" Your brother asked, laughter in his voice, making his eyes sparkle.

"I think so." You nodded, in a state of bewilderment and disbelief.

"You must have magic hands." Hoseok said before pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his laughter.

Your glared at them. "Not one more word out of the three of you, or I'll change the sugar in your coffee for salt for the indefinite future."

"I didn't say anything." Jimin protested and you just gave him a pointed look.

They thankfully kept quiet after that, but you could see them glancing at you and Jeongguk every now and again. You ignored their gazes as you continued playing with his hair.

Your heart was thumping happily in your chest, glad that Jeongguk enjoy you playing with his hair so much that it lulled him to sleep. It made you feel so content that you didn't want to move again.

You even turned a blind eye when you saw Jimin turning his phone in your direction ten minutes later.

At the end of the movie, you decided to wake Jeongguk up. As much as you like him sleeping on your legs, they were starting to fall asleep and he would get a stiff neck if he keeps sleeping like that.

So, you shooed everyone out of the room before gently shaking his shoulder. "Jeongguk-ah, wake up."

He groaned and you repeated your actions, watching as his eyes fluttered open. You looked into his sleepy eyes, wanting to coo as you watched him blink his way out of sleep. He quickly recognised you, even upside down, and immediately sat upright, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N?" His voice was husky with sleep and it made your cheeks heat up. "What happened?"

"You feel asleep." You explained. You watched as he nodded slowly, processing this and felt the urge to tease him a little, so you added, "On my lap."

Jeongguk's cheeks flushed pink and you couldn't help the fond smile on your lips. He ducked his head shyly and spoke a soft, "Sorry."

"It's okay." You waved him off. You wanted to even the field between you because it felt unbalanced somehow, like you had something over Jeongguk. You didn't like it, you wanted to be right besides him. Not above or below him. (Although many people would say he's way above you, you know that he doesn't care about that and neither do you.) Finally you admitted, "I liked it, it was nice that you felt relaxed enough because of me to fall asleep."

"I liked it, too."

You smiled, a little shy but also feeling bold by his admission. "I'll do it again sometime then."

"Okay." He grinned.

* * *

After that weekend, it took three weeks before you had another free weekend to go and visit your brother. With your bag slung over your shoulder and a bouquet of red tulips in your hand, you opened the door and called a loud hello to anyone inside. You made you way to the kitchen first, wanting to put the flowers in some water.

You found Jeongguk - who was still blonde, and your heart instantly picked up its pace - and Namjoon in the kitchen, the leader busy by the microwave and Jeongguk waiting as far as humanly possible from it. You quickly realised what was happening and supressed a smile. Namjoon must be heating food up for Jeongguk, who is afraid of microwaves.

You exchanged greetings and you quickly started looking through the cupboards for a vase.

"Those are pretty flowers." Namjoon remarked, leaning against the counter.

"I know right."

"Where did you get them?" Jeongguk asked, eyes on the admittedly pretty flowers.

"Oh, some guy gave them to me before asking me out." You answered absentmindedly as you continued your search for a vase.

Behind you, Jeongguk tensed, his hands curling into fists.

"Really?" Namjoon asked, more to see Jeongguk's reaction than anything else.

"Yeah, I almost said yes, too, just for the fact that he gave me flowers." You nodded over your shoulder. "Do you guys have a vase? I swear Jin-oppa had one in the old dorm."

"Under the sink." Namjoon answered, arms crossed over his chest as he looked back and forth between an oblivious-you and a jealous-Jeongguk, a smile on the corners of his lips.

"Thanks." You grinned before walking over to the sink and crouching down. You opened the cupboard and had to dig past the sponges, cloths, windowlene, bleach and dishwashing liquid before spotting the crystal vase. "I love flowers, you know? Not many people know because it's not something I advertise but Taehyung-oppa always gives me flowers for my birthday, every year since I was thirteen." You babbled as you gently pulled out the vase, not wanting to knock it against one of the pipes and crack or shatter it by accident. It was a little dusty, so you rinsed it before filling it halfway with water.

"Do you have a favorite flower?" Namjoon asked, partly to fill the silence because Jeongguk was glaring at the ceiling, tongue in cheek, and partly because he genuinely wants to know.

"Nope," You shook your head, removing the protective plastic around the flowers and putting them in the water. "I like all kinds of flowers. Roses, lillies, forget-me-nots, proteas, tulips, sunflowers - you name it, I love it. And in all colours too. There's just too many to pick a favorite. Although I really like pink lotus flowers. I'd love to grow them when I have my own garden someday. I'll have to install a shallow pond, of course, because they grow in mud but yeah, that's something I'd really like to try." You rambled on. Namjoon watched you fondly and glanced at the maknae, seeing that Jeongguk was still tense.

"Did you say yes?" Jeongguk burst out asking the moment you stopped talking.

"Huh?" You frowned at him, a little lost because you were completely caught up in thoughts of flowers.

"The date." He said, voice taking a sharp edge. "Did you say yes?"

"Oh." Realisation dawned on you and you shook your head. "No, I didn't."

"Then why did you take his flowers? You'll give him the wrong idea." Jeongguk grumbled.

Namjoon thought that right now was the best time to become a missing person and quickly exited the kitchen. He is not playing referee, should this turn into an arguement. No, thank you, he's done it enough between these two.

You rolled your eyes at Jeongguk, "I made myself perfectly clear, Jeongguk. I told him that while I adore the flowers, I don't like him."

"Still, you shouldn't have taken them." Jeongguk insisted, stepping closer to you.

Your temper flared, "Excuse me? Why not?"

"What if someone had seen? What if they start thinking that you two are dating?" Jeongguk's tone was something crossed between horror and panic.

"And so what if they think that?" You frowned at Jeongguk because what does it matter what other people think when you know the truth?

"So you do want people to think you're dating." Jeongguk said, voice cutting and accusing.

"What?" You stepped closer to Jeongguk, getting angrier by the second.

"Do you actually like this guy?" Jeongguk asked, sounding distressed with the thought but you were to angry to pay any attention to that.

You scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?" He pointed to himself, shocked.

"Yes! They're just fucking flowers!" Your voice was raised as you snapped at him, louder and harsher than it's been in a long time towards Jeongguk, of all people.

You didn't have time to feel guilty because his next words matched yours in volume, "That some other guy bought for you!"

"And your point is what exactly?!" Your voice didn't lower.

"My point is that I can buy you flowers!" Jeongguk shouted back.

The words take a second to sink in, and when it does, it catches you completely off guard and you deflate like a popped balloon, you anger evaporating like mist under the sun. You squint up at the blonde, who you finally noticed was a lot closer than when you started this arguement. "What?"

His voice was soft this time around, all the fight having left him, too. "If you want flowers, just ask me. I'll buy you any flowers you want. Just-" He cut himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Don't take someone else's flowers again. Please."

You looked at him, opening your mouth to snap at him but saw the sincere, the utterly vulnerable look in his eyes, and the breath was knocked from your lungs. You looked away, taking a few steps back as your heart twisted and you inhaled deeply to fill your lungs again. You noticed that Namjoon had left the kitchen. You didn't blame him.

A lengthy silence later, you finally looked at Jeongguk again, your hands trembling. "Is it really that important to you?"

"Yes." Jeongguk answered softly but firmly, no question in his voice, even as he looked down at the tiled floor.

"Okay." You nodded.

His eyes snapped to yours, and he echoed, "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You gave him a slow smile, then, just to break the heavy tension around you two, you said, "Just know that there is no backing out now and flowers are expensive. You aren't allowed to complain that I'm denting your bank account later."

"Deal." Jeongguk laughed, warmth spreading through his chest as the last of his jealousy faded.

* * *

"You know that one day you are going to have to talk about the feelings between you and Jeongguk, right?" Taehyung asked his sister later that night when they were laying in bed. He heard the story from Jimin, who heard it from Seokjin and Yoongi, who heard it from Hoseok, who heard it from Namjoon.

"What feelings?" You asked innocently.

Taehyung sighed in frustration but wasn't very surprised. The one thing that Taehyung has never been able to get out of his sister is the truth about her feelings for Jeongguk. But even without her saying anything, he knew. The eyes don't lie. "Denying it won't make it go away, Y/N."

You sighed, too, "Yeah, I know."

Taehyung didn't say anything for a few moments. This was the closest his sister ever gotten to admitting her feelings out loud, in seven years. "I'm here for you. Always."

"Thanks." You smiled, as if you didn't know that already.

* * *

Before you went home that Sunday, your brother told you that they were going on vacation as a group and you're invited because according to Taehyung, right after Jimin, you are the one person he can't live without. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics but agree to go with them none the less.

So, you put in a week's leave for two weeks from now and asked your brother where you would be going for this vacation. The answer was a secluded beach house where no one would be able to reach you.

And no phones was allowed.

You laughed a bit at that rule when you arrived at the house and saw that there is WiFi. Your brother was quick to remind everyone of the rule, telling them that the WiFi was only allowed to be used for YouTube and Netflix. Games was added to the list after an objection from Jeongguk and Seokjin.

"This is gonna go great." You laughed as walked up the stairs to pick a room. You get first choice after winning the rock, paper, scissors game in the car.

"Pick us a nice room, sis!" Taehyung shouted up after you.

There was only four rooms because the whole point of this vacation is to spend time together, which means that everyone was doubling up. They decided to pair up by age and it turned out - Seokjin and Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon, Jimin and Jeonguk, and naturally, you and Taehyung were paired up. (You tried not to think about the fact that if you kept to the age pairing that you and Jeongguk would've been sharing a room.) That lead to a lot of pouting from Jimin because he wanted to pair up with his soulmate.

"If your so eager to share a bed with him, why don't you marry him?" You remember teasing Jimin.

"Maybe I will." He shot back without thinking and you weren't sure who was redder once his words set in - Jimin or Taehyung.

You picked a room with a small balcony and a nice view of the ocean. The day passed peacefully, everyone full of energy but after dinner on the beach, everyone quickly retired to bed, the sea air getting to them.

You decided to watch the ocean a little while longer and Jeongguk joined you. Neither of you spoke as you sat on the sand, watching as the waves crashed on the shore, water retreating back into the vast expanse of ocean. It was captivating, in a kind of terrifying way but if there is one thing in your life you've never been scared of, it's water.

"Life is a lot like the ocean." You eventually said, breaking the silence between you.

"How so?"

"You can read about it in so many books, but you still won't know everything about it."

"That's deep." Jeongguk said, voice soft.

You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "Yeah, well, I've never been a shallow person."

"I know." You saw him nodding out of the corner of your eyes. "You're a beautiful person. Inside and out." He said it so matter-of-factly, so sincerely, that your stomach flipped and your cheeks flushed.

"Thanks." You smiled over at him.

It was silent again, but just like the first silence, you didn't mind it. You like the comfortable quiet between you two. Finally, you sighed and pushed to your feet, "Come on, let's go inside."

"Okay." Jeongguk got to his feet and you walked the path home.

You walked on the side of the pool where you all swam earlier that day, and didn't notice the small puddle of water that hasn't dried yet and you slipped. You reached for Jeongguk but his hands missed yours by millimeters, so you just took a breath and resigned yourself to falling into the water. You didn't mind it all that much, nothing some towels couldn't fix.

When you surfaced, you saw a laughing Jeongguk on the side. An idea formed in your mind but you made sure to keep your expression neutral as you reached a hand out to him. "Give a girl a hand, please."

Jeongguk - nice, kind, unsuspecting Jeongguk - reached a helping hand out to you immediately, only realising your true intentions when you gave a forceful yank and pulled him into the pool.

When he surfaced, glaring at you - but there was no heat behind it, so it didn't count - you couldn't help but laugh heartily. "I forget how similar you and Taehyung-hyung really are sometimes."

"Sucks for you." You smirked. The smirk turned into spluttering when Jeongguk splashed water into your face. You looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Oh, you're on."

You splashed at each other like proper five year olds, giggling and everything. Finally you called a ceasefire before you woke up everyone inside.

You looked at Jeongguk, blonde hair dripping wet, droplets of water rolling down his tan skin, that little mole under his bottom lip that you've wanted to kiss so many times you've lost count and suddenly, all of your resolve broke down like a house of cards and your common sense shortcircuited. You surged forward and kissed him firmly, clutching at his shoulders to pull him close.

His lips were a little cold from the water but was still petal soft and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him everyday.

Your common sense returned a second later and you pulled away, almost loosing your footing and slipping. Your whole body was on fire and you couldn't look Jeongguk in the eyes. "Fuck. Shit, Jeongguk, I'm so, so sorry."

You turned away from him, every intention of getting out of this pool and hiding away until you die.

Only you didn't get anywhere before a strong hand circled your wrist in the one second and in the next second you found yourself pushed up against the wall of the swimming pool, barricaded in by a hand on each side of you. You looked up at Jeongguk and your mouth went dry at the sight of those dark eyes that made you shiver. His voice was low when he spoke, "I didn't get to kiss back."

Your eyes widened and that was all you had time to do before he leaned down to capture your lips. Your head told you to pull away. That this is a very bad idea. Your heart told you to kiss him back and make the most of it. You've been listening to your head for seven years, so you decided to listen to your heart for once and kissed Jeongguk back with years of pent up longing and yearning.

The kiss turn turned really hot, really fast.

Jeongguk hoisted you up and you quickly got with the program and wrapped your legs around his waist. Everywhere his hands touched, it left a blazing trail behind, causing you to shiver and erupt into goosebumps. Distantly you wondered how it was possible to feel so heated in cold water.

You kissed and kissed until your lungs burned, your toes curling as you squeezed as close to Jeongguk as possible. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you pulled away, both of you heaving lungfuls of air.

"So now what?" You asked him, when you regained some common sense and breathing didn't leave you breathless anymore.

"Well, right now I'd like to kiss you some more, but later on, I'd really like to take you out." Jeongguk told you bluntly and if you were standing, your legs would have given out.

"What?"

And just like that, gone was confident Jeongguk and back was shy Jeongguk. He ducked his head, adverting his eyes from yours. "If you want."

"Yeah, I want too." You told him, watching as his eyes glittered with happiness. You could relate.

Jeongguk was onto something with the kissing some more right now, though, so you pushed that away and you dived back in. Right now you were more interested in mapping the inside of Jeongguk's mouth and finding out what his skin tastes like than anything else in this world.

* * *

The next morning your brother squinted at you suspiciously from across the breakfast table. You were seated in between Jeongguk and Hoseok, across from Taehyung and Jimin. Namjoon sat next to Hoseok. Yoongi and Jin was busy making breakfast in the kitchen. The six of you were waiting patiently.

Finally you couldn't take the staring anymore. "Is there something on my face, Taehyung-oppa?"

"Something happened." Taehyung said, pointing the pair of chopsticks he was fiddling with at you.

You rose a brow, not surprised at all that your brother picked up on it. That doesn't mean you are going to make it easy for him. You put on an innocent face, "Really?"

"Yeah, Taehyung-ah is right, you're like-" Jimin agreed, waving his hands around as he searched for the right word. "...glowing."

"I am not glowing." You said indignantly. Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught a smirk lifting on Jeongguk's lips. You turned and narrowed your eyes at him, "You, stop looking so smug."

"What does Jeonggukie have to do with-" Taehyung cut himself off and you could see how he put the dots together. The look on his face was hilarious as he turned to Jeongguk with a fierce gaze, "Jeon Jeongguk, what have you done to my baby sister?"

Jeongguk, despite being bigger and stronger, still looked a bit terrified of Taehyung as he squeaked, "Nothing, hyung."

"Nothing, hyung. Hah! Do you take me for an idiot? Something happened. I know it did. What is it?"

You giggled and leaned over to Jeongguk and whispered in his ear, "Don't tell him anything. Watching him squirm and drawing his own conclusions, slowly going insane with curiousity will be much funnier than telling him the truth."

Jeongguk brightened at your suggestion and immediately nodded in agreement.

"What are you two whispering about?" Taehyung demanded, voice higher than normal, despite having the deepest voice of the lot. "Hobi-hyung, tell me what they're saying."

"Sorry, Taehyung-ah, I can't hear." Hoseok said with laughter in his tone.

Yoongi and Jin came in with the food before Taehyung could interrogate you further. Taehyung looked before you and Jeongguk, "This isn't over."

You laughed, looking forward to teasing your brother a bit, when suddenly a hand slipped into yours. You looked at Jeongguk, who was steadfastly avoiding your eyes. You noticed his red ears and smiled softly, twisting your hand so you could lace your fingers through his. As the two of you held hands under the table while eating breakfast, you felt giddy and more excited about the future than you have in a long time.

There was still a lot you and Jeongguk had to talk about, but that was for later. You had enough time to figure it all out. Together.

the end.

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