#Or hey maybe that she even regretted doing this to her own child

[altocat]

Replaying Dirge.

Mfw Square is more interested in Lucrecia's melodrama with Vincent than in her guilt over the child she experimented on, carried to term, and then subsequently abandoned.

[vngelicc]

t h e b o y i s m i n e

⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too

⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k

‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.

“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..

Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.

“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.

What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.

“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”

You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”

Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.

“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.

“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”

You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.

“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.

Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.

“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.

You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.

“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.

Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”

“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.

Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.

Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.

“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.

Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”

His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”

“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”

Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”

“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.

Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.

.

(Not even an hour later.)

“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).

“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.

“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.

You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.

“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”

“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.

Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..

“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).

Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.

You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.

“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.

“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.

“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.

You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.

“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.

You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.

“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”

“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.

Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.

You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.

“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”

Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.

He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.

“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.

He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.

Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.

He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.

You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.

“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”

You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.

“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”

You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.

“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.

Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.

Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.

“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”

You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.

“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.

“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.

“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.

“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.

In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.

“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.

Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”

Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.

“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.

His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.

+

You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.

You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.

So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.

You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.

“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.

Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.

You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.

“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.

“Jungkookie–”

“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”

“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”

He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”

“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”

You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.

Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.

“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.

His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.

You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.

“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.

You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?

You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.

“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.

“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.

.

“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.

Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.

Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.

“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.

“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”

You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”

“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”

“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.

You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.

Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.

“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.

Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.

“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.

“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”

“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”

You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.

With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.

“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.

It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.

You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.

“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.

“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”

Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.

“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.

“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.

“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.

You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”

+

Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..

Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.

Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.

“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.

He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.

Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.

“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.

There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.

“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?

The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.

“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.

You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.

He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..

You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.

You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.

Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..

Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.

You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.

“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.

You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.

Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.

You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.

“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.

“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.

You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.

Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.

“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.

Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.

“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”

Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”

You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”

“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.

You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.

Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.

“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.

Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”

You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.

Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.

“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.

“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.

You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 3

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2583

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, mention of post-partum depression, mention of child endangerment, mention of child death, mention of murder, mention of suicide, mention of foster care, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story

I miss you so fucking much. How could you think so little of me. I’m sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t even know me. We’re soulmates, of course I know you. Our thoughts weren’t shared until we were both teenagers, you know nothing about how I was brought up. Can I see you? Please.

Thoughts between soulmates were shared more frequently when experiencing high levels of stress, primarily during long periods of separation after meeting, or fighting.

“Hey bug, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” Your dad knocked lightly on your door.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!” You hollered up to your dad.

Since your fight with Eddie, one week ago, your parents had noticed your very apparent, sour mood. You really had no choice but to tell them that you had in fact met your soulmate and had been hanging out with him non-stop. Your mom had been thrilled for you; she had wanted to know everything about Eddie. Your dad on the other hand, he was furious. He clocked the tear tracks that ran down your cheeks the second you walked in the door, and he wanted Eddie’s address so he could kick his ass. You had assured him that it wouldn’t be necessary, that no matter how upset you were in the moment, in your heart you knew the two of you would be able to work things out.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take his call.” Your mom suggested.

“Maybe you should butt out!” You shouted back.

You were immediately filled with regret. Quickly making your way up the stairs you threw open your door to come face to face with your parents.

“Mom, I am so sorry.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her hand gently brushing at the hair on the back of your head. She always did this when you hugged, and it always brought a warm comfort throughout your body.

“It’s okay. I know that you are upset. Maybe you should try talking to him sweetie, it might make you feel better.” She suggested once more.

“Okay, I guess you’re probably right.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s good because he is on his way right now.” Your dad informed you.

“What? Dad! A little warning would be nice! He doesn’t live that far, and I have to get ready!” You started scrambling down the stairs into your room to get ready.

Your parents chuckled, remembering what it was like to be that young and new in love.

A knock at the door had you sprinting up the stairs and practically shoving your dad out of the way so you could get there first. You weren’t quite ready to have Eddie meet your parents, especially since you aren’t currently on the best of terms.

You opened the door with just enough room to slide out of the house. You took note of Eddie’s disheveled appearance, he had bags under his eyes, his hair looked especially frizzy, and his skin didn’t have its usual glow.

“Hey.” He said sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied.

“Did you uh, did you want to go sit in the van and talk?” Eddie said gesturing to where it was parked at the end of your driveway.

You nodded and the two of you made your way to the vehicle. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms and kiss all this pain away, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that simple, he had made some snap judgements and said some hurtful things to you. He knew he needed to apologize and that the two of you still had a lot to learn about one another.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I said some awful shit to you, and I shouldn’t have. I just, I am so used to having people judge me. For how I look, for where I live, who I live with, the people I hang out with, the music I listen to, the field of work I’m in. And I know that you weren’t judging me, that you were just looking out for me because you care, but baby I couldn’t help but let those past feelings eat me alive when you were talking to me.” Eddie explained.

“Eddie, I appreciate you apologizing. I’ve had time to think about things too and I can understand how my reaction could have come across as judgmental. Eddie, my dad is a cop, I have heard what happens to people when they’re caught with a little bit of weed in their possession, but if you were caught selling it, or something worse. Eddie I can’t lose you. Not when I have only just found you.” Tears were running down your face at this point.

Eddie scooted closer to you on the bench of the van, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When you two broke apart, he leaned his forehead against your own, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I am so sorry baby. Please forgive me?”

“Eddie, before I can forgive you, I need to know that you don’t really think of me like that. I may come from a well-off family now, but there is a lot you don’t know about me and I just – I need to know that you don’t see me as some privileged brat.” You begged.

“Sweetheart, no! I don’t think of you that way. I am so sorry! I don’t even know why I said that. It’s like a defense mechanism. I know that there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I hope that you will trust me enough to tell me everything there is to know about you.” He rushed.

You were both startled by a knock on the window. Looking over at the passenger window, you were mortified to see your dad standing there, giving you and Eddie a small wave. He then gestured for you to roll the window down. You visibly cringed as you began cranking the window open, mouthing an embarrassed apology to Eddie.

“Dadddd…what do you want?” You whined.

“Your mother sent me out here to let you know that dinner is ready. She also wanted me to ask if your friend here would be joining us.” He explained.

Your eyes darted over to Eddie. You were trying to decipher his expression, was he as horrified as you were? Was he intrigued by the idea of meeting your parents.? Was he ready to flee and never return?

Would you want me to stay?

You couldn’t help but smile. His thought was timed perfectly, this soulmate thing definitely had its perks.

Of course I want you to stay! I just don’t want them to scare you off.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’d like to stay for dinner.” Eddie looked at your dad, who replied with a curt nod.

“I can’t believe you’re a Metallica fan! I just finished learning Master of Puppets on my guitar!” Eddie gushed.

“That’s a tough song, I bet you had to practice for weeks!” Your dad indulged Eddie.

This is so embarrassing! Your dad is so cool!

Your mom laughed at the exchange between the two men and she and you cleared the table. She gave you a knowing look and nodded towards your room.

“Why don’t you two go watch a movie, your dad and I can clear the rest of this up.” She suggested.

“Only if you’re sure.” You asked, gaze shifting from your mom to your dad.

“Door stays open.” Your dad pointed towards you.

With that you grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him down to your room, being sure to leave your door open, per your dad’s request. As you descended the stairs, Eddie’s jaw made its way to the floor. He was amazed by your room, you had records hung on the walls and ceiling, one of your walls had an incredible photo collage, with photos of you, your friends and family throughout the years, and below that were stacks of books next to a small desk. He’d have to ask you about who all these people were. You also had a projector screen that you clearly used for movies.

“This is amazing! You read J.R.R. Tolkien and Stephen King? And these records, this is so cool, I would never want to leave if this was my room!” Eddie exclaimed.

God, like you could get any hotter.

“Yeah, my parents are pretty cool about letting me express my creative freedoms or whatever.” You shrugged.

You couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, Eddie had talked about how you got everything you’d ever wanted, and this made that seem true. If only he knew.

Things had continued on pretty well with you and Eddie over the next few months. You guys had grown closer, trusting one another with the heavier secrets of your lives. Eddie had told more in depth about his parents. His mom had gotten hooked on drugs thanks to his dad, who was quick to put hands on Eddie and his mom when he was under the influence – which seemed to be more often than not.

You had wanted to tell Eddie about your past too, but the timing just didn’t seem right. Every time you went to share, something came up, or you were trying to avoid it coming across as you are one-upping him and his trauma.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Eddie had dinner at your house once a week, and you’d traded off whose house you’d go to after school each day. Nothing physical had transpired between the two of you other than a few heavy make out sessions. At each other’s houses you had fallen into a routine, at yours you would either watch a movie or read, at his you’d either watch a movie, listen to music, or help him with his campaigns.

Tonight happened to be dinner at your house, your parents had suggested ordering a pizza tonight and playing Monopoly. Eddie had enjoyed nights like this, your parents had been extremely welcoming of him. He had appreciated that they didn’t judge him, not once in all the time he has known them. They had been warm and kind and accepting.

Your dad had bonded with him about his taste in music and had shown an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. Your mom talked to him about his future and his dreams of being in a band, but the reality of him probably becoming a mechanic.  Your mom had told him that he should pursue music as long as he had something he could fall back on should it not work out. She told him that he could achieve his dreams as long as he worked hard at it.

These conversations, these dinners, these nights with your family had been amazing, they had also been painful for Eddie. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t get to have a childhood like this, that he had to get his ass beat by his dad while his mom was strung out on the couch. He hadn’t been removed from their custody until he was about 10 years old, that’s when child services pulled him from their care and moved him in with Wayne.

Wayne had grown fond of you immediately; he had seen how Eddie had changed immediately after meeting you. He had been happier, which meant the world to Wayne. All Wayne had ever wanted was for Eddie to have something good in his life and here you were. You and Wayne were buds and it filled Eddie with a sense of pride that his uncle approved of you.

Now if only things could stay simple like that forever.

Eddie and you had finished dinner and a game of Monopoly at your house. You were planning to go to Eddie’s after to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. After pulling up in front of the trailer, Eddie made his way to your side of the van and pulled you out of the car. You giggled as he kissed you and the two of you stumbled into the living room.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab drinks for you both and he began popping some popcorn.

“Sorry about my parents tonight. I know they can be super lame.” You huffed out a laugh.

“What do you mean? Your parents are great!” Eddie said.

“No, I know, but they act so goofy. It’s embarrassing.” You shook your head.

At least you have parents.

“Jesus Eddie.”

“What? I didn’t…oh shit. Babe I’m sorry. It’s just, you should be thankful that you have parents who care about you. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“I’m not that lucky Eddie! Fuck! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” You sighed.

“Then tell me! Please, enlighten me as to how your two wonderful parents can be so bad!” Eddie egged you on.

“THEY'RE NOT MY PARENTS!” You shouted at him, then took a deep breath. “Eddie, they’re not my real parents.”

Eddie sat a looked at you, mouth agape, speechless. You could tell that he was waiting for you to continue, but you needed a moment to collect your thoughts. You had to explain everything, this conversation could change everything.

“My parents, Eddie, they did some horrible shit. Neither of them had any other family, my mom she uh, she had post-partum depression, she wasn’t doing well, for a long time after my little sister was born. I guess that had caused my dad to seek comfort elsewhere, I was only six when all this happened. But uh, my mom she uh she left my sister in the bath alone, my sister slid down into the water and drowned, she was only 8 weeks old. When my dad came home and found her, he was furious. Eddie he killed my mom, and then he killed himself. I ended up in foster care and bounced from home to home until I was twelve, until they took me in.”

“Sweetheart. I, I am so sorry. I don’t, I’m not sure what to say.” Eddie whispered. “But uh, you said. You had mentioned that your mom told you bedtime stories about how her and your dad met.”

“My mom now, she would tell me how her and my dad met, every night until I finally started sleeping.” You explained.

The nightmares made it impossible. I couldn’t stop seeing the blood.

Eddie crossed the room and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid this whole time. You had been silently telling him that your life wasn’t all that perfect, that though now, it seemed good, it hadn’t always been. He needed you to know that he was here for you, no matter what.

I’ve got you. I will always have you baby.

A sob escaped your throat, ripping through the silence. Eddie held you; he laid you with him in his bed, his hand brushing through your hair gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.

I haven’t told anyone that story. Nobody, ever. Not even my parents. Your secret is safe with me. You are safe with me. I love you sweetheart. I love you Eds.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive

[blueraineshadows]

Breathless

Farmer!Garreth x F!MC

8.6k words. Tags: NSFW / smut / loads of fluff / breeding kink unlocked / flirting / sexual tension

The sun was warm on his back as Garreth sat down on a log, pulled a small tin from his cloth bag, and opened it. He lifted out his sandwich and took a large bite, crumbs sprinkling over his lap that he brushed away with a grubby hand. A curious nose snuffled at his thigh, investigating the crumbs in case a piece of ham had fallen out too. Garreth smirked and scratched his beloved dog behind the ear and spoke around a mouthful of bread and ham. 

“None for you, mate,” he said affectionately. “I'm starving after hauling all those hay bales this morning. This is all mine.” 

Big, brown eyes looked up at him hopefully, and Garreth patted the spaniel on the head, his fingers soothing the silken fur as he took another bite of his sandwich. But Rusty had other ideas. His ears perked up, and he stood, tail wagging happily before he took off down the trail, barking excitedly. 

“Rusty!” 

Garreth saw who Rusty was running for, and his heart began to beat a bit faster behind his ribs. He chewed faster, swallowing a huge chunk of sandwich as he brushed the crumbs from his mouth and legs. 

It was her. 

Childhood friend, expert tormentor, and utterly beautiful. MC was a girl who lived in the village, about a mile from the Weasley farm, and Garreth couldn't imagine life without her. She came nearly every day to help out with the animals and chat with Ma. Her own mother passed away when she was a child, and she had become an honorary Weasley, always around the farm or in the house with the boys as they grew up.

She was a Muggle, through and through, but she knew about their magic. She kept their secret, delighted with their magical abilities but loyal to the bone when it came to their talents. Her only regret had been when he and his siblings had all gone off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. MC had missed them terribly, but being here at the farm had kept her busy. 

It was no trouble for Garreth to admit that coming home for school holidays had meant coming home to her. He didn't care that his brothers teased him about it, poking fun about his little crush on her. Garreth didn't care. He'd tell anyone. MC had always been the prettiest girl he knew, and he'd hex anyone who dared say otherwise. As adults, his feelings hadn’t changed. In fact, they had merely grown stronger.

“You're a bit late today, aren't you?” He called out to her, grinning as Rusty bounced around her legs, tail wagging. 

MC was making a fuss of the dog, laughing at his little leaps as she headed closer towards Garreth, her braided hair over one shoulder with loose strands teasing on the breeze around her face. 

“Keeping an eye on my timing now, Garreth?” She asked, eyes glinting with mischief as she eyed him sitting on the log. “You weren't waiting for me, were you?” 

“Of course,” he smiled charmingly. “You know I'll always wait for you.”

A pretty blush stained her cheeks, and she bent to make a fuss of Rusty. “Maybe next time I should make you wait a little longer, keep you in suspense.” 

Garreth slapped a hand over his heart and sighed dramatically. “Don't be cruel, MC. It's the highlight of Rusty's day greeting you with a happy, wagging tail. How could you do it to him? Look how pleased he is now that you're here! You should come earlier so he gets to have longer with you before you have to return.” 

She lifted her gaze to his, her blush deepening into a glorious red as her gorgeous eyes narrowed. “Don't use Rusty as a tool to flirt with me, Garreth Weasley. Rusty is innocent and such a good boy.” 

“Hey, I'm a good boy, too,” Garreth said. He held out his tin. “I'll even share my sandwich with you to prove it.” 

Ignoring the hopeful gaze of his beloved dog, who he'd just told that his lunch was off limits, Garreth held the tin up as MC took a peek at his sandwich. 

“Maybe just a little bite,” she said, lifting the sandwich from the tin. 

As she sat on the log beside him, Rusty still trying to get her attention at their feet, Garreth gave her a warm smile. She smiled back around the sandwich, nudging her shoulder against his as she took a delicate bite. 

“Don't look at me like that,” she said, holding her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed.

“Like what?” He lifted an eyebrow playfully. 

“You know very well what I mean.” She was blushing again. He did love it when he made her blush. 

“I've told you before,” he said, reaching to take hold of the end of her braid, the silken strands of her hair curling perfectly around his fingertips. “I will never stop looking at you like that, not even after you turn old and grey. My eyes were made to look at you that way, MC.” 

She shook her head, and his smile only widened as he tugged teasingly at her braid until she was leaning towards him. He met her gaze and brushed his fingers lightly under her chin. 

“I am going to marry you one day, MC,” he said confidently. “And then you won't need to hike the mile long trail here to see Rusty everyday, you can live here at the farm. With me.” 

“You've been saying you're going to marry me since we were ten, Garreth,” she said, taking another bite of his sandwich. “Over ten years of just assuming I'll be your wife. That's not a proposal.” 

He smiled and let her go, picking up his share of his half eaten sandwich. “You will, MC. I'm going to marry you, and we'll have loads of ginger babies together. You'll see.” 

She laughed and gave him a shove. “What if someone else asks me first? I'm an eligible catch, I'll have you know. My father is a respectable shopkeeper, and I can cook and sew, too.” 

“Like who?” He asked, sitting up straighter. 

“Mr Turner from the post office hinted about escorting me to the summer barn dance. Maybe he will get down on one knee and ask me to be his bride.”

Garreth screwed his nose up. “Seriously? Tight arsed Turner? You've got to be joking. The bloke is so stiff he squeaks when he walks! What kind of lover would he be between the sheets?”

“Garreth!” She gasped, her hands flying to her face as even her neck flushed scarlet. “That's hardly appropriate conversation material.”

Garreth’s green eyes flashed mischievously as he looked at her, imagining how soft her skin would feel under his palms, how delicious those lips would feel against his own. 

“Don't tell me you haven't thought about it,” he said softly, his voice low and raw in his throat.

Their gazes locked, and he could see the way her breaths had quickened, her chest rising and falling quickly under her blouse. “You are a free spirited young woman with fire in her soul. You're going to want a man who can leave you utterly breathless, a man who knows what he has in his arms when he holds you.”

Her eyes widened, her pupils dark and flickering with something that lifted the hope in his heart. “And you think you are the man fit for that challenge, do you?” 

He smiled, confident and cheeky. “Come to the summer dance with me and find out.” 

“Are you asking me to be your date, Garreth Weasley?” 

“I am, and you can't say no either,” he said.

It was her turn to lift an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?” 

“Absolutely. Rusty would be completely heartbroken if you turned me down, and you wouldn't want that now, would you?” 

As if on cue, and totally planned, Rusty leant his head against her thigh, looking up at her with those beautiful, brown eyes. 

“See?” Garreth scratched behind Rusty's ear again, his arm brushing against the warmth of her thigh. 

He had made no secret of it. He wanted her. But, his silly teasing and playful flirting always seemed to be nothing more than banter between them. He wanted the real thing. He'd marry her tomorrow if she would have him. 

MC glanced down at Rusty, stroking his soft fur before looking at Garreth. “Alright, you've got yourself a date to the summer dance,” she said, then held up a finger as his mouth split into a wide grin. “But, it needs to be a proper date. No silly jokes, and you definitely need to wear something smart. You can pick me up and escort me like a proper suitor.”

“I wouldn't dare expect anything less,” he said, his heart soaring. 

….*....

Her arm was linked through his as they walked through the village, the sunset a glorious blend of pinks and gold across the sky, the hues reflected in the sparkle of her eyes. MC looked like an absolute dream in her pale blue dress, her hair pinned back from her face, with a waterfall of curling locks tumbling down her back. His chest swelled with pride that she was on his arm, and he couldn't wait to escort her to the dance. 

They paused near the gated entrance of the old manor house, the sounds of music drifting across from the barn. Garreth patted a hand to his chest nervously. “So, will I do?”

He'd taken great care in bathing and attempting to tame his fiery locks, dressed in his best trousers and boots, his white shirt impeccably clean against the moss green of his waistcoat. He had even adorned his outfit with a plaid dickie bow, and he was sure he looked the part, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

Her eyes took in his clothes, a smile teasing her lips. When she met his gaze, he felt the familiar warmth in his chest that came from just being in her presence. 

“You look very smart,” she said, her fingers smoothing down the front of his waistcoat, making his cheeks warm. “Consider me impressed.” 

“I should hope so,” he grinned. “I've got to look the part, escorting the prettiest girl in the village. That Mr Turner best be keeping his distance, that's all I will say.” 

Enjoying the sound of her chuckle, they entered the barn to be greeted by the lively music coming from the band at the far end. Bales of straw had been set out for seating, along with wooden plank tables, ribbons, and colourful bunting, adding cheer to the space. Dancers were already twirling on the dance floor, but Garreth led MC towards a makeshift bar area and got them two mugs of ale. Taking a sip, he licked his lips, and a crease appeared on his brow.

“It’s no Butterbeer, but it will do,” he smirked. “I shall have to take you on a date to Hogsmeade, or even Diagon Alley in London, and show you some wizarding hospitality.”

MC lifted an eyebrow as she sipped at her beer. “You are fairly confident of a second date, then?”

Drawing on all his Gryffindor bravery, he lifted a hand up to her face, his thumb grazing gently along her cheekbone. “My plan is to sweep you off your feet, and take you on many, many more dates after this.”

Her blush was instant, and she couldn’t look any more beautiful. He could kiss her right now, but he held back, assuming the role of gentleman as they finished up their drinks and he led her out to the dancefloor. 

Not one for fancy airs and graces, he felt a flutter of insecurity at first as they joined the other couples moving about the floor. He was a more practical man, used to using his hands for more physical tasks, his feet more inclined to be in work boots planted firmly in mud. Once he had his hand on her waist, though, the rest just seemed to flow instantly, his gaze transfixed on only her as they began to sway along to the beat. Her smile was for him, and it felt all together too marvellous to be holding her close like this. 

After a few more dances, his pulse racing and his face hot, Garreth was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. The lively steps were making them work up a sweat, but it was great fun, and he was sure to keep a firm hold on her as the songs ended and another began lest anyone had ideas about cutting in and stealing her away. As they skipped and twirled, her hair fanned out around her, the skirt of her dress billowing against his legs. Holding her gaze as he pulled her in close again, he splayed his hand at the small of her back, the ridges of her corset under her dress pressed against his palm. He felt the fire in his blood and didn’t even try to hold it back from his eyes.

Her mouth was parted as she breathed hard through the dance. The pink of her cheeks and the spark in her eyes felt heightened as they held the look between them. This was a different kind of magic, as old as time itself, and she was the only one who made him feel it. He cared little for the snobbish views regarding blood purity. She may be a Muggle born, but she had the power to charm him. The words in his heart danced and swirled along with him, threatening to escape and spill from his lips. Every thud of life in his body was all for her.

If he pressed his fingertips to the pulse at her throat, would it throb and flutter as hard and fast as his did right now. Could she feel the maddening rush of desire that warmed his blood as a match in her own veins?

For years, he had loved her with his eyes, in the gentle teasing and bold suggestions. His playful demands that he would marry her one day were honest truths, a reality he yearned for, and maybe, just maybe, he would be bold enough to make it a serious declaration. How do you make it special, though? She had hinted at wanting a proper proposal, and he knew it was tradition to place oneself on one knee and present a ring. Not normally one for stiff formality, he wondered if perhaps something a little different might be in order, but nothing too over the top lest it make her decline.

“Shall we get some more drinks?” She asked breathlessly, her fingers holding on tightly to his shoulder. Her flush had darkened, her eyes dipping to his mouth and then back to his eyes as though her heated blood really did answer in kind. “I’m feeling rather parched.”

Blinking away his grand ideas of making her his wife, Garreth nodded, his mouth slipping easily into a warm smile as he slowed their steps. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a bow over her hand.

“Such courtly behaviour, Garreth,” she chuckled, her eyes dancing as he straightened. “Who are you, really, and what have you done with the real Garreth?”

“I’m offended!” He said with a little cry of mocking disbelief. “I am the epitome of gentlemanly behaviour at all times.”

She leant in closer, her arm linked through his, the softness of her against him making his blood heat to new levels. As she tilted her head to speak nearer to his ear, he felt his throat close against the mad flutter in his chest. “Does a gentleman hint at what he can do to a free spirited woman once he has her in his arms? I believe you mentioned such things as leaving her breathless?”

Eyes widening in surprise, he turned his head to meet her gaze, their faces achingly close, tempting him even further to dare risking a taste. “You remembered what I said,” he murmured. 

“Every word,” she breathed, her eyes darkening. He could have sworn she moved closer, his tongue sliding to wet his lower lip at the promise of claiming the softness of her plush mouth.

“I meant it, you know,” he said softly, his gaze devouring her face with utter devotion. “I know exactly what I would be holding in my arms, and I would endeavour to show you just how much that would mean, leaving you completely breathless in the process.”

Her smirk was devilishly naughty, the spark in her eyes spellbinding. “Would you like to deflower me, Garreth Weasley?”

His teeth caught at his lower lip, sinking down into the soft flesh at the images those words presented to him, barely swallowing back the desperate whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Barely even registering that they were standing in a barn full of their fellow villagers making merry, his hand tightened at her waist as his eyes burned into hers.

“In the most gentlemanly way possible, I would very much like to ravish you,” he said, his voice thick with loaded desire.

Their gazes locked in a blistering promise of a passion unmet, Garreth heard his heart thundering in his ears. This was more than bodily urges. This was soul defining, surely. Poets wrote about this kind of feeling, and whilst he was certain he could never put it all into words, with his very hands, he would make every endeavour to show her. 

“Garreth!” A sharp tug on his sleeve joined the urgent bark of his name, jarring Garreth from the moment, his eyes blinking in dazed surprise as he turned to see his youngest brother beside him. “Bloody hell, Garreth. I've been calling your name across the room. Are you deaf?” 

“What?” Garreth frowned, trying to comprehend why his brother was here, his shirt almost as filthy as his face, his ginger mop of hair wild with a leaf caught in the curls. “What in Merlin's name are you doing here, Hector?”

Hector turned his gaze towards MC, his lips twitching into a cheeky smirk. “Alright, MC? You're looking delectably pretty this evening.” 

“Leave it out, you little rascal,” Garreth said, rolling his eyes and giving Hector his full attention. “What are you doing here? You look like you've crawled through a hedge backwards.”

“That's because I have,” Hector said, his cheeky smirk still in place. “That's why I'm here. Ma has got her wand in a right ole knot. The baby goats escaped, and they ransacked her vegetable patch. She cast out a hex or two, and now one of them has got pink fur.” 

Garreth’s eyes widened. “She did what? Godric’s balls.” 

He groaned and put a hand to his head. Those mischievous little goats had been the bane of his existence since their birth, escaping and chewing their way through all sorts. If he didn't have such a massive soft spot for them, he would have jinxed them all himself by now. 

“Did you manage to catch them all?” MC asked, a worried crease appearing in her brow. She, too, had been on the receiving end of the little scamps during her times helping out at the farm. 

Hector shook his head. “Nope, there's still three on the loose, so I thought I'd better fetch you, Garreth. They like you. One of those little bastards bit me on the finger, so it did.” 

“Oi, language,” Garreth scolded, holding a stern finger up. “There are ladies present.” 

At Hector's rueful smirk, he got hold of his arm with the intent of marching his rapscallion of a brother out of the barn. Glancing at MC, he caught her amused look and shook his head, fighting back his own grin. 

“I'm so sorry,” he said, his hand catching hold of hers. “This is going to spoil the evening. I need to go back and help round up these baby goats.” 

“And I am coming with you,” she said firmly, grasping his hand and delicately lifting the hem of her skirts. “It sounds like you're going to need my help.” 

In the seconds he had spare to stare at her before they all began to head for the door, he was reminded yet again at how fiercely his heart beat for her. 

….*....

With his wand between his teeth, the glow of his Lumos spell illuminating his face and the ground before him, Garreth launched forwards and wrapped his hands around the middle of the baby goat munching on one of his mother's rose bushes. The goat bleated in protest, and Rusty the dog came scampering over, tail wagging excitedly. 

“Gotcha, you little rascal,” Garreth mumbled around the wood of his wand, tucking the little goat under his arm as he turned towards the barn. 

The goat was trying to nibble his now wonky bow tie, his curls a ruffled mess from the searching in bushes. The evening had not turned out how he had been expecting. Visions of romantic dancing and maybe even a cheeky kiss were fading from his thoughts as he entered the lamp lit barn. 

MC was at the goat pen in the far corner, bending over the now mended fencing as she made a fuss of the mother goat. He could hear the soft murmur of her voice as she scratched under the chin of the beast, seemingly uncaring about the smears of dirt on the skirts of her pretty dress and the mud on her shoes. She had not been afraid to chase after the escaped kids in her fine clothing, traipsing through mud and greenery in her attempts to retrieve them. 

“I've got another one,” Garreth said, returning his wand to his pocket as he lifted a very wriggly kid over the fence. 

“One more to go, then,” MC said with a sigh. She moved closer and reached out for his hand. “Come on, let's go catch her together.” 

“Her?” Garreth asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

“Yes, it's Blossom that's missing. The one with the patch on her tummy that looks like a heart,” MC said, holding tight to his hand as they walked back out into the dark of the yard. 

“You've named them?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You do know they are to be sold soon, don't you?” 

“They still need names, Garreth,” she insisted with a smile. “How can they not have names when they have such funny, little personalities.” 

He paused in his step to look at her, a soft look on his face. “Considering how these little personalities have wrecked our plans for the evening, you are being rather affectionate towards them.” 

Her smile shifted into something rather playful as she stepped even closer, her free hand lifting to adjust his bow tie. “We only have one more naughty kid to catch, Garreth,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet with his. “And the night isn't over yet.” 

A little flutter erupted in his tummy, warm and pleasing as his mouth tilted upwards into a grin. “That sounds promising.” 

The bleating of the remaining escaped goat sounded across the yard, coming from where the old stables stood against a backdrop of trees. Once again, a mischievous goat was determined to interrupt any moment that had the potential to turn interesting with MC.

Turning to try and catch a glimpse of Blossom was rather pointless in the dark, and Garreth slipped his wand from his pocket again. This was the last goat to catch, and then he could have MC all to himself.

“Hold that promising thought of yours,” he smirked and held up his wand. “Lumos!” 

Still holding hands, they crept swiftly across the yard, the light from his wand illuminating the darkness and pressing back the shadows as they approached the stables, their feet squelching in the mud. Rusty was already snuffling ahead of them, nose down and tail up until he caught a scent. With an excited bark, he was off, scampering around the corner of the old, brick building, and the little goat came bounding out of the darkness. 

“There you are, Blossom!” MC said, holding out a hand. Blossom had other ideas, though, and skipped sideways in a move that was almost like a dance. “Oh, you little rascal!” 

MC lunged to catch her, missed, and slid on the mud. Her startled cry pierced the night as she grabbed at Garreth, catching his arm so forcefully that he was yanked forward in a sudden lurch. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the arc of light as his wand arm swung, his booted feet sliding out from under him. In his efforts to be a gentleman and keep MC upright, he took the fall, hitting the sticky mud with a splat. 

“Oof!” 

“My goodness, are you alright?” MC said, holding her hands to her mouth as she looked down at him, Rusty bouncing eagerly forward and shoving his wet nose right into Garreth’s face. 

Somehow, Garreth had managed to keep his wand arm up in the air, his spell still lit at the tip. His other hand was buried in the mud, his face a grimace of disgust as he shifted into a sitting position. 

“I'm alright. Easy, boy, easy,” he said, attempting to calm Rusty, who thought this was an impromptu play session. 

It was at this point that Blossom the baby goat decided to take a flying leap into the air in all the excitement, and she jumped right onto Garreth’s broad shoulders, head butting him in the process. His grunt of pain at the smack of her hooves and head was lost in the bellow of laughter that erupted from MC's mouth. She was bent over with it, her eyes sparkling in the light from his wand as he struggled to get Blossom down into his lap with one arm. 

“Oi, don't laugh! A little help here?” He muttered through a smirk, slipping in the mud as he tried to keep hold of Blossom and keep his wand aloft. 

“Of course…I'm s-sorry,” MC gasped around her chuckles, holding out her arms to take little Blossom. “Here, let me…” 

Scooping an excitable Blossom into her arms, coating her dress in fresh smears of mud, MC quietened her chuckles as Garreth got to his feet. He tried to shake the mud from his hand, his eyes roaming over his ruined shirt and trousers. 

“Well, there goes my nice, smart shirt. Bloody hell, I can't go back to the dance looking like this,” he grumbled, his gaze moving to MC. “And look at your lovely dress.” 

“Could you use one of your fancy spells to make it all better?” She asked. 

He could. In fact, he knew just the spell, and she had always been so delighted with the magic that he could do. It had always been his pleasure and a wonderful excuse to keep her near him, to show her the spells he could do. Transfiguration objects would make her clap her hands excitedly, bringing him objects to switch up into something new. The best one was charming magical delights to impress her like little birds or butterflies. It was worth it just to see that glow of wonder in her eyes, her awe, and praise for him, making his chest swell and his dreams would fill with hope. 

Standing there in the mud with her, watching her make a fuss over the naughty goat, he realised that he didn't need to make all the mud disappear. None of this bothered her. Not the escaped goats putting a stop to their dance, not the running around in the dark trying to catch them, and definitely not the mud marking her skirts. She loved this place almost as much as he did. It was home, and this was where they belonged. She had to feel it, too.

“You look beautiful even when you're covered in mud, MC,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “I'd even go so far as to say you are especially beautiful when you're all grubby and getting stuck in with the work around here. We are lucky to have you.” 

Her smile was particularly lovely as she petted Blossom on the head, the goat trying to nibble on the lace at the front of her dress, and he was certain that she was blushing. Instead of a cheeky come back as she was wont to do, her words were soft, her eyes full of a deeper meaning. “I love it here, Garreth. I always have. I'm happy to be able to help out.” 

She loved it here. Surely, it was meant to be.

“Let's get Blossom back to her family,” he said with a chuffed smile, nodding towards the barn, that warm feeling spreading behind his chest at her words. “And like you said, the night isn't over yet.” 

….*....

With the goats all now safely in their pen, Garreth stood with his hands in his pockets and a rueful smile on his face as MC approached him under the flickering lamp of the barn. She smirked as she attempted to straighten his dickie bow again, her gaze taking in the mud staining his shirt and waistcoat. 

“Oh, Garreth, you even have little hoofprints on your shoulder,” she chuckled, brushing against it with her fingertips. 

“All part of the farm life,” he said, tilting his head as he gazed upon her. “I'm just sorry it ruined the summer dance for you. I'm sure if Mr Turner had escorted you, there would have been no goat drama, and you would likely still be dancing right now.” 

A flutter of insecurity began to tap dance behind his ribs. MC was a rare one, and he did not blame other gentlemen for their interest in her hand. Despite knowing her since they were young children, this did not place any right or claim on her, no matter how he longed for it. He was cheeky and flirty. He made bold statements about her being his wife one day, but her heart was her own to give. 

He was just a farm boy with a gift for magical spells and the odd calamity. Was he enough for her? 

As she stared up at him, the glow of the lamp reflecting in her pretty eyes, he searched for the disappointment in her gaze but found only warmth. 

“I'd rather be here with you in the mud and chaos, than dancing with a man who doesn't understand me,” she said softly. Her face moved subtly closer, her hand still resting on his shoulder. “What you said to me the other day about needing someone who knew what they had when they held you. You were right. Mr Turner may be polite, and he is most gracious when he speaks to me, but his eyes do not hold the power that makes me forget how to breathe.” 

The pace of Garreth’s heartbeat began to pick up, a hand leaving his pocket to reach for her waist. Her warmth came even closer at the urging of his touch. “Tell me more about such eyes,” he murmured, swallowing thickly against the desire building within. 

“Eyes like a forest in spring,” she said, her fingers moving to touch against his throat, her caress like fire as she slid them tentatively up towards his jaw, unravelling the edges of his control. “Eyes that make my skin come alive when they look at me, eyes filled with a fire that I am certain nobody else sees but me. I could get lost in those eyes if I wanted to, I'm sure of it.”

She was so close now, he could see the myriad of flecks in the pools of her eyes, and he figured he knew what she meant. “Do you want to get lost in them?” He asked, the underlying tension in his words as dark and smooth as honey. 

The air felt molten and ablaze between them, all his nerve endings stretched taut with the need to feel every inch of her pressed against him.

“I think I already am,” she whispered. 

Endless day dreams and hours spent picturing how it would be to kiss MC, and now that his lips were finally pressed against hers, the real thing surpassed anything his mind could have painted. Softer than he had dared believed, her mouth sealed against his in a first kiss that had his toes curling inside his muddied boots. 

It wasn't too heated, and yet his blood was ablaze, the gentle pressure just enough to show the desire behind it. The shuddering breath he managed to pull into his lungs took some of the tension from his frame as he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes seeking the comfort of her gaze. 

“Dance with me once more,” he said, his voice laden with the need of her. 

“I offer you kisses, and you want to dance?” 

Her eyes sparkled with a mischief he recognised, but Garreth merely smirked and took out his wand. In the corner near where they stood was a collection of farm tools, brooms and a rake, a shovel, that kind of thing. With a few careful wrist movements, his lips murmuring a charm learnt in a lesson taught by his Aunt Matilda, those practical and useful implements lifted up from the ground. In graceful twists and turns, imbued with the power of the magic that ran through his veins, Garreth performed the transfiguration spell to make a quartet of string instruments. 

“Garreth!” MC exclaimed, her hands coming up to her mouth as the instruments began to play a rather charming piece of music. 

Eyeing the look of wonder on her face, his smile was rather pleased as he slid a hand across her lower back and urged her closer towards him. “Not bad, hmm? If we can’t be at the dance, then we shall bring the dance to us.” 

Taking a hand and holding her more firmly, his fingers splayed at her back in a manner that suggested she was his alone. He spun them about in a smooth turn of dance. 

“Show off,” she admonished playfully, letting him lead her across the floor of the barn. 

It didn't matter that they were plastered in mud or that they were dancing in the barn with a family of goats for company beside hundreds of hay bales stacked ready for winter. He was here with her, and she was in his arms, her smiling face turned up to him with a warm glow in her eyes. 

“I may be a show off, but only for you,” he said with a wink. Swallowing down his nerves, he adjusted his grip at her waist. It was time to summon the bravery his school house was known for. “Anything for the girl I love.” 

He heard the swift intake of her breath, her feet stilling amongst the loose straw strands scattered across the floor. The music played on as they stood and stared at each other, a hot blush blooming across his cheeks. 

“Do you mean that, Garreth?” Her voice was breathless, her eyes wide. “You love me?” 

“I do,” he nodded, his throat closing up with emotion. “I love you.” 

Her gaze dipped to his chest, her eyes shifting from side to side, a kaleidoscope of emotions dancing across her features. Panic took wing within him, his fingers gripping tightly at the back of her dress. Had he spoken out of turn? Was it too much? Perhaps he had read the look in her eyes all wrong. 

When she finally lifted her gaze back to him, the tell tale shine of unshed tears glittered in her eyes. “But…I'm just a normal girl, Garreth,” she said, shaking her head as though she didn't understand. “I don't have magic. I am one of those Muggle people in your world. Why would you want me when you could have someone who can conjure fire, or…or wonderful instruments to make music. I'm nothing special…”

“You are everything!” He declared, shifting his hands to cup her beautiful face, his heart squeezing at her fears. “You are all that I want. Nobody else could ever come close. Another girl could have all the magic in the world, and I would still choose you. Please, don't ever think that you are not good enough, MC. I love you all the way from your bonnie hair to your muddy shoes.” 

Her lips trembled, and a tear escaped, streaking down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb, caressing the softness of her skin as he felt the burn behind his own eyes. 

“I'm probably being a sentimental fool here, but it's the truth,” he said, resting his forehead against hers and taking a shaky breath. “Please, say something.” 

A broken whimper left her mouth as she wrapped her arms about him, her fingers clutching at the back of his waistcoat as she pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I love you, too,” she said, the words like a balm against his lips. 

Like a dam released, he pressed kisses to her mouth, her nose, his lips raining his affections across her cheeks until she was giggling in his arms. Hearing her speak those words made his heart skip a beat, his emotions threatening to spill over, and so he used his lips to express himself rather than make a fool of himself and speak. He feared his voice would crack, and the burn in his eyes would turn into real tears.

“Are you trying to kiss me everywhere?” She laughed, breaking through the ecstatic tension in his chest.

His eyebrows lifted with cheeky intrigue, his fingers ghosting along the lacy neckline of her dress near her collarbone. Humour and flirting were definitely more in his comfort zone. “Hmm, that depends on how literally you mean everywhere.” 

Her cheeks reddened, and she gasped, but her smile turned almost as mischievous as his own. “This sounds most improper, Garreth,” she teased. “Perhaps a hint at how a gentleman may leave a girl breathless.” 

“Oh, it's wonderfully improper. Would you like a demonstration, my lady?” 

“Garreth! Not in front of the kids.” She nodded her head towards the goat pen across the barn, her mouth tilting into a teasing smile. 

Glancing from the mischievous goats to the girl of his heart, Garreth gave her his most wicked smile. “But of course, my love,” he said, taking her hand. “Right this way.” 

Heart hammering with excited anticipation, Garreth tugged MC away from the goats as he ended the music with a flick of his wrist, leading her around the huge stacks of hay bales to a darker, more secluded part of the barn. He let her go to shift a few of the heavy bales, uncaring about dirtying clothes already ruined, until he had a suitable spot in which to render his girl breathless. Circling her within his arms again, he kissed her gently, searching her eyes for answers. “Only on your word, MC.” 

“You have it,” she nodded.

As their kisses became longer and more heated, his blood fired to a burn that made him giddy. He lifted her off her feet and placed her down on the sweet-smelling bales. Deepening the kiss, he braced himself on his elbows, trying not to crush her with his weight. Her body arched towards him, the press of her curves making him ache with such fierceness. 

“Tell me you feel this, too,” he said, his mouth devouring the tender flesh of her throat. 

“Like fire,” she gasped. 

Her cheeks were flushed, her hair pooled around her head in a tumble of glossy curls, and her skin was addictive against his tongue. His fingers worked at the fastening of her dress, pulling the sleeves from her shoulders to expose more soft flesh to explore. Her gasping, tortured breaths filled his ears as he mouthed along her collar bone, dragging the dress downwards before reaching to pull at the laces of her corset. Crossing the line from friends to lovers had been his dream, his hope, and now it was his reality.

As her nimble fingers worked on the buttons of his waistcoat, his gaze blazed a trail over her chest, confined within the corset that he was eager to be rid of. Bending down, his tongue slid delicately along the plump flesh, pushed upwards over the top of the constrictive bindings, groaning at the promise of what his hands longed to hold. But, the laces were being stubborn, his fingers tugging with an urgency that made her chuckle.

“Rather impatient, aren’t you?” She teased, cupping his face.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” he groaned, grabbing her waist with the intention of spinning her around. “Roll over, darling. I refuse to be outwitted by a corset. I have my heart set on burying myself in the delights hidden underneath, so this naughty piece of lace and bone is about to meet my barn floor.”

Her laughter brought a smirk to his face as he rolled her atop the bales, pulling the laces free until the corset loosened. He immediately slipped it from her body, discarding it so he could smooth his hands over the red indents the restrictive garment had made on her skin. She was like satin and silk, so sensual under the touch of his work-roughened hands.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, bending to press soft kisses along the length of her spine. Urging her upright, she sighed as she pressed up against his bare chest, her head falling back as he slid her hair aside to suck gently at the base of her neck. “Let me feel you,” he whispered.

Fingers teasing around her ribs, he peered over her shoulder as his hands sought out the full weight of her breasts. Divinely soft, he cupped them both, closing his eyes for a few seconds to savour the feel of her against his palms. She turned her head, her fingers delving into the thick curls of his hair. As he met her heated stare, the glaze of desire he could see there had him claiming her mouth in another hungry kiss. 

Emboldened by her low moan, he let one hand drift over the softness of her stomach, caressing with a trembling touch before he dared to delve lower. Her dress was bunched about her thighs, his fingers sliding easily under the waistband of her underwear. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingertips brushed through the thatch of her hair, but she shuffled her knees further apart to allow him access.

“Are you sure?” He asked, needing to know that she wanted this as much as he did.

“Please…” 

His fingers caressed through the heated slick of her most intimate flesh, and Garreth felt his cheeks burn at her willingness, her soft moans driving him to explore her further, teasing at her entrance before sliding a finger into the silken heat that awaited. 

“Gods…” The word left his mouth in a breath of awe. She felt exquisite, and his arousal strained against the confines of his undershorts, molten fire gathering deep in his loins. 

As her hips rolled seductively against his hand, he worked to a rhythm, slowly stretching her until he could add a second finger. The tightness of her inner walls posed the idea that he might need to take care when entering himself into her. He ached for it, longed to make her his knowing he would be the first to do so, but he did not want to hurt her. For now, he concentrated his efforts on pleasing her, seeking out the tiny pearl of her pleasure.

Savouring every sound that slipped from her mouth, he whispered in her ear, pressing kisses along her jaw, and he kept a warm hand around her breast. Watching her writhe with pleasure, the skin of her throat darkening with a rosy blush as her whimpers intensified, he coaxed her ever closer to the peak. 

“Garreth…I’m close,” she panted, her fingers gripping into his hair with an eye watering grasp.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear. “Relax, give in to it. I won’t let you go.”

Groaning at the delicious pressure of her peachy backside against his arousal, he felt the quiver of her muscles, her hips bearing down as her body surrendered to the fire. He slowed his fingers, coaxing her along the crest of the wave, watching her through his lidded gaze as she climaxed in his arms. Her moans were beautiful, but nothing could be more satisfying than hearing his name whispered through her lips like some kind of prayer. Bringing her to this point gave him a sense of pride, the love he felt for her swelling behind his ribs as he shifted her around so he could hold her against him.

Burying her face into his neck, she clung to him, the heat of her laboured breaths against his skin urging him to stroke his hands up and down her back as she came back to herself. They whispered their words of love to each other, taking a moment to pause and reflect before she cupped his face in her hands. Her gaze was one of hazy bliss, cheeks flushed, and a gorgeous smile on her lips.

“You were good on your word, Garreth Weasley,” she said, her thumb sliding temptingly close to his mouth. “Consider me thoroughly breathless.”

“Oh, but I am not done yet,” he said, capturing her thumb with his lips and sucking gently. She watched him do it, her eyes darkening again, lips parted.

“Of course,” she murmured softly, her eyes lifting to stare into his. “I had always secretly hoped that you would be the one to take me for the first time. I dared to dream of it. All those times you would smile and say that I would be your wife one day, I stored those moments in my secret heart and feared that another, a beautiful and talented witch, would come and steal you away.”

“Never,” he insisted, holding her closer, pressing the warmth of her flesh even closer against his. He kissed her on the mouth, his lips lingering before speaking again. “I meant every word, you know. I may smile and tease you, but there was always truth behind those words.”

Taking her hand, he pressed it against where his heart thudded against his chest, more serious than he had ever been in his life. “Feel that? Every beat is for you. I want you to be my girl, my wife. I want you to be there when I wake up every day. Marry me, MC.”

“A thousand times, yes!” Her smile was dazzling, and she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. She didn’t even hesitate with her answer, and he squeezed her back, hardly daring to believe it.

All the grand gestures and speeches he had mulled over didn’t seem to matter, the charade of going down on one knee, the stiff formalities all forsaken. They were half naked in his barn, bits of hay stuck to them, their clothes filthy. But, it didn’t matter. This was their truth, and he had spoken with his heart, and by some miracle, she had said yes.

Capturing her mouth in a long, fierce kiss, he cupped her face, a grin appearing as his verdant eyes twinkled. “You will be my Mrs Weasley. I can’t wait to see ole ‘stiff upper lip’ Turner’s face when I call you that.”

“It’s not a competition, Garreth,” she chided gently, playing with a lock of his hair.

“Oh, but it is, my love. You are the prettiest girl in the village, and you are all mine. That makes me a winner. Just wait until I tell Rusty he is going to be so happy about this!”

MC chuckled and leaned into him, pressing her forehead to his as she bit down on her lower lip. “As much as I adore that pup of yours, he is going to have to wait. We have unfinished business to attend to.”

“We do?” Feigning innocence, he waited, watching and loving the fire igniting in her gaze. 

A breathless moan escaped his throat as her hand slid down to palm against the front of his trousers, his arousal waking from its semi-slumber at her touch. Her lips grazed against his in a teasing kiss, her eyes locked with his. Gods, she made his blood burn.

“Make me yours,” she whispered against his mouth.

Laying naked on the hay bales beneath him, her legs parted to welcome him, MC looked like perfection. His eyes blazed with his desire as he admired the soft curves, his fingers stroking against her glistening and inviting entrance as he prepared her for him. Taking his time to savour the intimacy and to ensure her comfort, Garreth pressed himself into her slick heat, biting his lip against his urgent need. So tight and hot, she squeezed around him, his cock throbbing as he slid deeper.

At her wince, he paused, but her fingers bit into his hips, urging him to push. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, glancing down to where they were joined. 

Moving slowly at first, the pleasure began to build until his eyes became glazed, liquid fire pooling with blissful ecstasy at the base of his spine. Her little hands clung to him, her grip fierce and hungry, her head thrown back, and lips parted as she moaned beneath him. He couldn’t get enough. It was erotic and sensual. It was blowing his mind. The feel of her was driving him insane and his climax was imminent. 

Looking down at where he thrust into her, watching as he filled her over and over, his hips snapped harder. The slap of their flesh punctuated his rhythm, the harshness of his breaths becoming cries of ecstasy as the heat exploded in his lower back, his hips slamming forward until he was fully sheathed within her tight heat. Eyes closed as the pulsing wave of his orgasm overcame him, he shuddered as thick spurts of release spilt deep inside of her. Behind his eyelids, the erotic image of MC’s flushed and naked body seared through his thoughts.

As the wave of his orgasm began to ebb, he gently rolled his hips, grinding against her as though pressing his seed even deeper inside. They were not married yet, but he did not regret filling her up. In fact, it was incredibly arousing to think of it. Gasping air into his lungs, he opened his eyes as he felt her hands urging him closer. Her smile was soft, her fingers gentle as she smoothed his hair back from his sweat slicked forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered, her mouth pressing delicate kisses on his flushed face. 

A subtle movement of her hips made him moan softly, the sensitivity of her walls flexing around his very happy cock sending shivers up his spine. Seeking out her mouth for a kiss filled with longing, he realised that it was possible to fall in love even deeper than before. Staring into those eyes, he had certainly got lost in them, lost in her, and now she would be his forever.

Their future lay ahead, living here on the family farm where they could raise their children. Perhaps they would be magical, like him, and they would go to Hogwarts. Even if they weren’t, and they were like their mother, he wouldn’t mind. They would be Weasleys, they would be loved, and that was a wonderful and beautiful thought.

[kunikukitty]

✐ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

xiii. piece no. 134

At that certain night years ago, what if you didn't force yourself to draw more when you clearly cannot? If you allowed yourself to rest, or even acknowledge your limits...

...would things turn out different then?

"Hey, [Name]. Are you okay?" your classmate, Lynette, asked as she looked at you with a tilted head.

With your droopy eyes you stared at her, confused. When her words finally clicked in, you tried to blink away your sleepiness, "Huh? Oh, yes. I am okay, why?"

Shaking her head, she heaved a sign as her eyes bore at your form. "I hope you are." It seems that she doesn't buy your answer. "Anyway, Faruzan's here."

"Right..." You rose to your feet and gave Lynette a smile. Giving her a small wave, you excused yourself.

And there she is, Faruzan, her worry for you is evident in her face. She immediately grabbed your hand when you went near, "Let's grab lunch together." is all she said, before dragging you out of your classroom.

She made you sit on one of the tables in the canteen. Due to you not getting a blink of sleep last night, you almost fell asleep waiting for her, but the sound of the tray hitting the table awoke you. Palmeni, a traditional snezhnayan dish, one of your favorites so far, and a can of strawberry milk.

"So," She starts, standing beside you, "where were you?"

Before you could even utter a word, she spoke again. "I was so so worried, you know! The whole day I was overthinking about my choice, I regret asking you to go there in my place. You looked so sad when you got home and I assume you did not enjoy your time there at all."

She talked fast you barely understood, especially that you have little to no sleep. You closed your eyes and that made her squish your cheek, "I asked Mona what to do and she just told me that maybe you need to be alone for a moment because maybe you got war shocked or something... and I was really scared I had upset you."

You felt the gentle caress of her hands on your head, gently moving down to cup your cheek. You whined at her when she began to shake your head with low intensity, as if trying to awake you.

"I didn't tell Mona nor Capitano that you weren't on our dorm last night. Where were you? Did you get lost? How were you able to attend your classes today? Where did you get your uniform if you didn't go home?" You heard her sniff a few times, "Seems like you took a bath, but where—"

"I can't catch what you're saying!" You complained and she pinched your cheeks in response.

Faruzan is the most worrywart among your circle, vocal about it too. You could say that she's the mother of the group, but in all honesty, she's the least you're closed with.

You were besties with Mona since your elementary days, you both knew Capitano since then but only as classmates. Surprisingly, you three are still classmates by the time you reached highschool, and that's why Mona decided to befriend him this time. Shortly you became trio, then itto came along because proclaims to be Capitano's best dude, but he had his own circle that time. Faruzan then befriended Capitano, and that's how she got in the group. Hutao came last, with itto (again), just as when Capitano left the country.

You sighed. Ever since the exchange student program started, it felt like it was a given chance to strengthen your friendship with Faruzan. At first, you feel awkward to share a dorm room with her, but nonetheless it is better than sharing it with a stranger. You never had the chance to be alone with her before. Anytime you and your friends would go out somewhere, there was never a time that it is just you and her— there's always a third person or fourth. The whole airplane trip to Snezhnaya was the first time, and you enjoyed it.

Before this all started, you were really nervous. But now? it feels so comforting. Being with Faruzan is like becoming a child again. She scolds you like a strict mother and dotes on you like you're her favorite daughter.

She sighed. "Were you with Capitano?"

You shook your head then explained your whereabouts. "At morning I wanted fresh air so I went outside, I don't feel like talking to anybody so... yeah."

"You were just outside the whole time?" You nodded. "Where exactly?"

"Anywhere... I was just walking to my heart's content and—" you yawned, "I didn't realize it was late at night, I went home, then I couldn't sleep so I just prepared for classes the next morning."

"So you managed to get back to our dorm?"

"Hey," You glared at her and she only raised an eyebrow in response. "Mindless walking brought me there, I guess. Anyway, I'm hungry."

You heard her heave a sigh again as she watched you stuff your mouth with the food she bought. "I'll walk you to our dorm later, okay?"

prev | masterlist | next

note. I GOT IN ARGEGSHSHSBSVSHSH I GOT IN IM GONNA BE AN ARCHI STUDENT GRAAAAAAA

taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt @tamikahoshiko @scaraenthusiast1 @sketcheeee @xxrougefangxx @luciledreamz @icomeheretolaughnottofeel @sereniteav @lily-lmao @h3xi2g0n3 (i cant tag those in bold)

[goodoldfashionlovercorpse]

Soul Love

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Loki! reader

summary: No matter what she turned into, blood was always thicker than water. Luke, however, saw her for more than she did.

a/n: hello! this is part one. i thought there weren't enough loki kid! readers, so i started this. comments and reblogs are appreciated. have a nice day :)

warnings: implied ED, daddy issues, angst, etc.

Camp wasn’t made for her. She knew this, others showed it. A daughter of Loki did not belong at a camp for greek demigods. Despite how inviting “Camp Half-blood” maybe seem by name, it was exclusive to Greeks. Unless you want to end up in the Hermes cabin, and Y/N knew that she’d rather her brothers tear her limb by limb than ever stay there again.Well, there is one way she’d stay.  Luke Castellan. Not only was he a son of Hermes, but he was the best swordsman in 300 years.

And yet he looked at her with nothing but love, as if Aphrodite shot an arrow at him herself. He made continuous efforts to include her. When she sat alone outside of the Dining Pavilion, it took the boy mear seconds to accompany her – despite the chants at his home table.

“Hey, how’s dinner going?”

“It’s going…” She played with her food, fearing it a little yet still trying to take bites. She sighed so deep it became its own form. Nothing but gloom and gray sat behind those eyes. Isolation seemed to be her only friend aside from Luke. He was so much more than her; he was a hero and she’s doomed by the narrative. Forced to know not even nuclear warfare could end this world before her father. Yet he understood what he did not know.

“Your hair is turning to snakes. Wanna try again?”

Damn it. “No.”

He poked her continuously. Setting his plate down, he waited – like a predator to its prey – until she finished eating. He knew better than to make her meals more miserable than she already felt, so he sat there waiting for the other plate to empty. Grace wasn’t the sole word he could use for her. Even in a state of distress, she looked as if the love-gods  handcrafted her and brought her to life. Unfortunately, the doom of her destiny haunted her mirror. Despite her father and her being shapeshifters, there was always a piece of him in every shape she became.

The pavillion was as loud as the wind, yet Luke and her were as quiet as the moon. Should she say everything she wants or just leave it be? Her father was never one to tell the truth, especially when he said “i love you.” Saying those words with his blood flowing through her veins felt like a crime. A punishful lie. The cries of cousins burning her at the stake. At some points she’d feel ashamed for her pride. Why should she be proud to be his daughter? He has done nothing but try to end the world. He wished nothing but awful things to his children – she is not the exception.

Despite her father being a horrible being, she was his favorite child. She represented everything he was: chaos incarnate. She didn’t pick sides; even if her best friend went to war, she’d stand in between, only adding fuel to the fire. Her dad wasn’t evil, yet he wasn’t good either. He passed his neutrality onto his daughter, then tortured her for it, only to then aid her. Her. Not her siblings, just her. Loneliness and regret filled her for this, but Samirah and Alex never blamed her.

Yet seeing the pure loathing some campers held for their siblings made her uneasy. They hated their parents, yet it was obvious they are their children. They hold the same opinions, never critique their actions, always knowing one story – the Hero’s story.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Luke held her hand as he looked into her eyes. Those eyes. Oh, those eyes… the things they do to her and her soul. Those brown eyes held layers of her regrets and so little judgement. He knew every detail of her mind, even what she did not want him to know. War, Valhalla, Loki, Camp, all of it. He knows all of it. Still, love courses through his eyes. She thinks she’s delusional.

While Luke may accept her, he still doesn’t know every single thing. He knew all, except her part in Ragnarok. Odin didn’t owe her anything, neither did she owe him; she also wasn’t on her father’s side, she knew better than Calypso. Instead, she will stand back and get rid of either side. Destiny wasn’t her favorite thing, it was her greatest detest. No way to undo it, no way to fast-forward it.

Luke wouldn’t leave her be, his eyes showed that he’d follow wherever she’d go. He’d meet her where the spirit meets the bone. “Have i ever told you how well the moon suits you?” Goosebumps raised her skin like a cat. He knew what she thought, yet he knew better than to discuss it out here. He knew all her thoughts, as if he knew her soul once upon a dream.

Before either utter a word, Luke smiled, genuinely. it was the kind of beam nothing could rival. “I apologise if i haven’t, you truly are lovely under the light.” he bit his tongue, aching to comfort her and defend her. It was too early, too much. She was impaled by her the venom in her veins, a feeling he knew all too well. The boy couldn’t complain, though. Although he held distaste for his father, he had learned to forgive and make amends.

He trusted his father when he said "i love you." She never had the option to believe her's. War was all that he’d given her, but war was not love; his father didn't start one, her's claimed it was his love. Even Ares and Athena knew it in their cold, golden blood. A moment of quiet passed through the sand. “I’m sorry that-”

“Do you ever think of Death?” she perked her head towards him, staring deeply into his eyes. Constellations and worlds resided in them. Whatever girl he has is lucky to have him, she thought. Silent prayers hung at her lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

The question was raw. Was he going to really answer it? Should he finish this question?

“I mean, Love and Death are a lot closer than one might think.” He stared at her, willing to listen to her every word even if she was describing a plan to murder him limb from limb. “Not everyone loves death, yet death craves love. To be forgotten – to be completely unloved is to die forevermore. Love adores death, loss gives value to what we hold dear. Orpheus already held dangerous levels of love for Euridice, her death increased his awareness. When she died again, she felt so much love for him, knowing she’d never be forgotten. She lived eons because death and love are adaptive. They feed off of each other. Death is never truly the end, the end is being forgotten. Forever lost in the sands. Never to be loved again.”

Behind her eyes, Luke saw her thoughts. He felt them like bullets on his skin, one so deep you couldn’t mistake it. She looked at the stars not knowing she was one.

Death was valuable to her for other reasons, but she ran from it. Ran from her own hair. Why? He wondered. Valhalla loved her, yet his bones knew that they wouldn’t once a grave had her name engraved. Gods were Luke’s enemy for a while. Still, the boy holds resentment over them. Heavy resentment. Y/n, though? Her father wanted her dead. At least Greek Half-bloods get to have a count down, Norse ones just die. No monsters, just their parents and humans. Monsters are her family; howling behind the barrier are her brothers, willing to take her life.

Perhaps he took for granted his dad sometimes. Even though Hermes started to get involved now, he assured Luke that he would’ve been a father to him sooner had he could. Not once did Hermes go after him or bullied him, only to praise him and aid him in the depths of his mental illness. Hermes may not be the best, but he was certainly not the worse. Luke could never imagine what the Norse gods are like: the children of Thor didn’t pray to  him, Odin was barely present — they didn’t even build a camp to ignore their kid, they just let them die.

Chaos followed every demi-god, special the Norse ones, mainly the children of Loki. He was neither good nor evil. Y/n prefaced this during all their talks. To him, Loki was pure evil; but to the most gorgeous creature on earth, he was her father.

Trickery was infused into her soul, unable to leave even if she bore red liquid like a fountain in Greece. Death was her escape, her only vice — yet now her views have change since the moment they met. Life is her, she is life; she adorns his world in her heart. But somehow he still felt so… Powerless. He was utterly powerless when it came to her heritage. She’d accepted it so quickly. Completely unfazed that she had this burden.

Meanwhile, he still had trouble facing his dad. Sure, all has been resolved and war has been evaded, but that’s only for the Greek demigods. His family is, for the most part, alive. But her? Her mom and dad are no where near, her father is out to either kill her or train her, and she’s already suffered the loss of a sister – a loss she dares not repeat.

“That was too much, wasn’t it? It’s not virtuous to praise death. But in this world, what else is there?

“Maybe you’re right. Or, maybe, we can talk about shows, or the gods, or even us.”

“Us?”

Luke swallowed his spit, trying hard not to sweat. Nodding, he looked at the sky. “Us.” He smiled warmly, making the air smells like honey and roses, “my favorite song is Soul Love by Bowie.”  He didn’t have to turn around to see her face, the warmth of her excitement felt like enough. She was already more than enough.

[13thedream]

Characters: (Lee) Sunday, (Ler) Kafka

a/n: this is based off of the Idea that Sunday joined the Stellaron Hunters. I have not done the most recent quest yet - only partially proofread, and my first fic, so do not make fun of it, please. But constructive criticism is encouraged

words: 1,5k

Sunday has had a headache all day today, and his eyes felt sore.

It was no doubt the fault of him staying up for most of the night tearfully, but he was sure that these people played a part in it.

They are unfamiliar; they hardly know him and he hardly knows them. And yet, here they are behaving as if he’d always been a part of the “family”. Arms slung over his shoulders, going out to places as well… Aren’t they meant to be an elite group, the feared and despised Stellaron Hunters? No doubt powerful, and yet, they had so much time on their hands to still be silly.

It is safe to say he is not used to such treatment. Relaxing, sitting back and doing nothing, having fun - yet he is neither relaxed or having fun. The thought of his sister laid heavy in his mind - the way she looked so tired on the television, and it tugged at his big brother instincts to sometimes see her wings not preened.

Sunday sighed quietly, his face buried in gloved hands as he leaned back against the sofa he sat on. He regrets now not bringing any of his books, or his journal; then again, he had to leave in such a rush, there simply was no time.

A tiny breeze fluttered the feathers of his left wing, and it twitched. He ignored it, groaning as he burdened himself with thoughts of his sister. What if she’s not feeding herself properly? What if she’s spending her nights crying?

Another breeze, another twitch.

Maybe she hates him. No- Robin would never, yet he found himself wishing she would. He hates himself so much, and he’s just pulling her down with him.

“...day.. Sunday.-” Something delicately traced down his wing, and Sunday would forever deny the startled, squeaky “eep!” He had let out. He whipped around, golden eyes wide, meeting the even and somewhat curious gaze of Kafka.

She was smirking; he felt his cheeks heat up at his own embarrassing reaction - and his damned wings were now curling around his cheeks too, as if he were some shy child hiding his face.

Clearing his throat, Sunday spoke, “..Good afternoon, Miss Kafka,” A polite greeting, choosing to move past what had just happened.

“Hey, angel,” she replied, that stupid smirk never leaving, and he felt his skin prick from the nickname. Angel? Audacious to call him anything other than his own name - yet, he held no power here, so he may as well accept it.

Kafka continued to speak casually, “I’ve been calling your name for a while. D’you wanna have dinner with us later?”

Sunday huffed quietly at the thought alone. Dinner with that barbaric swordsman, the moving suit of armor, a literal cat, and the girl who can’t put her phone down? Forget it. The most normally behaving person there would be Kafka, and that’s saying a lot.

“No.” Sunday grumbled, before clearing his throat once more and fixing himself, “...No, thank you. I will get my own.”

Kafka merely shrugged one shoulder, propping up her face on a hand as she observed him. When had she sat down beside him? Sunday met her gaze for a couple of seconds before glancing away, feathers puffing up. What does she still want?

“No problem. You seem tense,” the woman commented offhandedly, and he looked back out of politeness.

“How could I not be?” Sunday replied, tone cool and curt. Kafka shrugged again, raising one eyebrow as she observed him a moment longer.

“Fair point. But no one’s coming after you here, y’know?” She pointed out, and he huffed; of course he knew that. They’re in the middle of Xipe-Knows-What, in Xipe-Knows-Where.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m more worried about the company here than anybody looking for me.” Sunday watched reproachfully as Kafka’s expression turned into one of amusement, as well as a mischievousness which had him tensing up further.

“Ah? How come? We’re a loving family here.” She replied, and they could both tell that she was just messing around now. They both knew why.

Sunday sighed, “Well, I don’t feel the slightest bit safe with that swordsman - constantly looking as though he'd strike me down if he had the chance. And that girl is a nuisance. It feels as though her entire personality is just, “Games this,” And “Hacking that,”.” He snorted out - and he felt himself lighten a bit at Kafka’s huffed out laugh.

“...Sam is most likely the most tolerable person,” Her smirk never left for the entire conversation - does this woman even know any other facial expressions..?

“And you are… Hm.” She looked even more smug than usual for a moment at his hesitance, and he grumbled out, “..Mysterious, I suppose. I dislike how unpredictable you get.”

Kafka was silent for a good long moment, just staring at him, before she chuckled, “Might I remind you, Birdie, that you are not so normal for yourself.”

She reached out again, while he was looking elsewhere, and dragged a finger down one of his wings lazily.

Sunday yelped.

His wing flapped, and he whipped around to face her again, cheeks on fire. “Would you please stop that?” He politely snapped, eyebrows furrowing.

She observed, he shifted, trying to cool down his cheeks.

“You’re ticklish,” Kafka finally mused out, tone thoughtful. Sunday sputtered, cheeks ablaze, a huge difference from his usually stoic, cool demeanor.

“What? No. What-? I was just caught of guard.” He replied, shifting away from her on the sofa. Perhaps he should try to respectfully make his leave-

“You laughed a little bit,” Kafka hummed, her eyes narrowing, a nearly predatory look behind them.

“I did not,” Sunday denied, frowning.

“You did.” Kafka’s already smirking lips began curving upwards even further.

“I am not ticklish. Where did you even get that from? Your claim makes little to no se–”

“Alright. Let’s prove it.” Kafka said, and before his brain could even process her words, two hands were firmly gripping his sides, fingertips digging into the flesh.

Sunday let out a surprised, “Aah-ha!” Falling back onto the sofa and attempting to squirm away. It did not tickle so terribly - yet single nerve felt as though it was on fire, and his embarrassment worsened with every little squeak which escaped his lips. He hated his laugh, and he was now sure he hated this damned woman, and her damned smirk, and her damned hands.

“Wait- Wait! Wahahait!” He cursed himself, giggles slipping into his words. His body was jumping, hands reaching down to try and push her’s away, but to no avail. She easily dodged all of his attempts, hands squishing at the sides of his stomach now, only worsening the sensations.

“Gah! Ahahaa! Wahait!” Kafka was smirking, watching the usually uptight Halovian fall apart just from a few touches. His body spasmed when she got closer to his belly, and she chuckled.

“So much for not ticklish, hm?” She hummed out, that predatory glint still in her eyes. He was blushing hard, his laugh a bit awkward - probably from not being genuinely used in so long - and his smaller pair of wings were busy trying to cover up his face.

What an adorable sight.

Her hands teased his belly for a few moments longer, before lowering down on it. Sunday squealed, blushing a dark red now as he lowered his hands to block his sensitive stomach, panting. He heard Kafka click her tongue.

“K-Kafka, thahat’s–!” Suddenly, her hands were in his underarms, those horrid nails scratching at the exposed skin.

“AAah! Kahafka!” He cried out loudly, tone becoming more and more high pitched the longer this went on. His arms slammed down, trying to fruitlessly guard his vulnerable underarms, but that just pushed her hands in deeper, digging into the centers.

His wings were quivering, both sets, and he bucked up wildly. His hair was becoming a mess and his clothing ruffled. Mirthful tears sprung up in his eyes, threatening to fall down his red cheeks, and his chest heaved.

Kafka scratched in his underarms a moment longer before removing her hands altogether, recognizing his limit. She was still smirking, and he breathlessly glared at her.

“...Ruhude.” He panted out, titters still escaping every here and there.

Kafka only smirked, “You had many chances to say stop. You didn’t.”

His cheeks lit up again - Great Xipe, he’d never get over this embarrassment. What’s worse is that she is absolutely correct.

Sitting up, Sunday muttered a quick, “Be quiet..” as he tried to smooth down his clothes. He felt much lighter now, he realized. Not so tense anymore - yet despite that, he still glared at Kafka before moving off of the sofa.

Well. Now he has to go hide in the bathroom for a couple of hours. And possibly die from the embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” he grunted out, and hid his tiny smile in his wing as he left. Kafka replied casually, as if she hadn’t just tickled him senseless, “Seeya.”

Weird - his headache is gone too.

[cakerybakery]

They were fighting again. Didn’t seem to matter where they were Adam would say something or Lucifer would do something and they would fighting. Even a simple trip to the park as part of a beautification project to help with community relations between the hotel and the citizens of hell turn into the two of them hurling insults at each other.

“You make hell, a hell, dick bag!” 

“My only regret is not fucking Lilith and Eve in front of you. I should have buried my dick to the hilt in Eve’s cu-“ Adam covered Lucifer’s mouth and shushed him.

He leaned down and spoke softly, “hey there, sweetie. Where’s your mommy or daddy?”

Lucifer had been too busy and didn’t see the little imp girl who had been tugging on Adam’s pant leg. Tears were falling down her face and she sniffled, her thumb in her mouth.

He’d never heard Adam speak that way before. Soft and sweet to not scare the little girl.

“Did they get lost?” The girl nodded. “Oh dear! How silly of them.” She giggled. “Now if I was your mommy or daddy where would I be? Maybe in this tree?”

She shook her head and pulled her thumb out of her mouth, “noooo! Mama by big wheel!”

“She was by the big wheel? Well, we should go find the big wheel then. Now where could it be? Was it in the fountain?”

“Nooo!” She had stopped crying completely.

While Adam continued to entertain the child, Lucifer called over Charlie. They all stopped planting flowers and went out looking for a frantic mother.

Lucifer stuck by Adam, not because he was enjoying seeing that side of him or anything, but just in case the mother came across them. She’s probably be less scared for her daughter if the king of hell was watching over her instead just some random guy.

It didn’t take long for an imp with a stroller to run up to them and be reunited with her daughter. The woman thanked them both profusely and carried the now happy girl away.

She waved over her mother’s shoulder and snuggled into her mother.

Adam gave a little wave back but once she was gone he looked a little sad.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just reminded me of my kids.”

“I remember when Charlie was that age. Always getting into mischief.”

“Seth got lost once. We’d lost Abel and Cain was banished by god. Then when we found out about Seth, Eve was so scared for him. She scared she’d loose another one. Then when he was five he just disappeared. We looked for hours. It was dark when we found him. A lost wolf cub was guarding him. We never found the cub’s parents but we took him home with us. They were inseparable for the next ten years before that wolf died.”

Lucifer could sympathize with that fear. Charlie was under lock and key as a child. Lilith guarded her like a dragon. Charlie hadn’t been their first, just the first to live. Eventually Lilith had let her do more, but Lucifer wasn’t sure someone at the hotel wasn’t a plant to watch over Charlie while Lilith was away. He never said it but he was suspicious that Charlie moves out on her own to start her hotel and a powerful demon shows up agreeing to protect the hotel?

It had Lilith’s helicopter parenting style all over it. But if Alastor was a plant then at least he was letting her do things on her own. If Lilith was here she’d be practically living with Charlie.

It was the only thing they ever fought about. Until at last Lilith had argued herself into a corner and agreed not to interfere with Charlie’s life for a few years and left.

Lucifer had tried to do the opposite in hopes of balancing things out and just ended up missing years of her life trying to be as hands off as possible. Parenting was hard.

“At least it turned out well. You know Charlie tried to have a pet once. Took months to get rid of all the roaches.”

By the time the others got back Adam and Lucifer were swapping stories about their kids or lives like the old friend they once were. And when Adam’s hand landed on his, neither of them made a move to pull away.

[ferrstappen]

hey bubs, dunno if your taking requests still but I was wondering if you could write dad!Max taking his kids to a theme park for the first time, maybe Disney?

Thank you in advance

Disney World Break (Max Verstappen x fem reader

Max insisted, like really insisted on taking the kids to Disney World, you were already in Miami and a flight to Orlando would be short forty-five minutes.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so thrilled about the idea of taking two four-year-old to a theme park, walking under the humid sun for hours, packed with people from all over the world who could recognize your very famous husband.

The twins, Luca and Mila, both carbon copies of their father, pleaded you to go during the entire flight from Azerbaijan to Florida, encouraged by their father.

“Max, they’re too young to go, they’ll last two hours, tops” You told him as the twins were sleeping, cuddling each other.

“We can take breaks or whatever, we’ll take one of those VIP tours so we can skip lines,” Max hummed at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair while his head rested on your lap.

Something flashed as you looked at him, always acting like a child outside the track, maybe because he was trying to connect with his inner child, and it all made sense. “Baby, have you ever been to Disney World?”

Blue eyes made contact with yours, his hands finding their home on your thigh. “No, not in Orlando at least. Mum and dad took a Victoria and I to Disneyland in France, but I don’t remember much”

Those words were enough to make you close your eyes and take a deep breath, knowing both Max and you were going to regret this, but it was going to be another adventure for your books. “Ok, baby. We are going to Disney world. You better book that VIP shot soon, and of course we’re going to Magic Kingdom.”

Fast forward two days and you were on the entrance of the park, Max helping Luca to choose his first ears, all while carrying Mila on his arms and telling her to choose whatever she wanted.

“Those ears look really great on you, my love.” You knelt in front of your son, fixing his hair so it wouldn’t look messy.

Just as you were speaking with your private tour guide, Max walked next to you, placing his hand on your waist and gently squeezing it to catch your attention.

“Put them on, liefde.” Max placed a pair of classic Minnie ears, as he adjusted his own Mickey hat.

It seemed like you were not only in charge of your twins, somewhere along the way after riding the Jungle Cruise, your husband started taking Luca and Mila to every shop, money not being an issue as the twins overindulged in merch and sweets.

“What do you think about going to the teacups next?” Max asked Mila, who was on his shoulders.

“Daddy, I’m tired.” Mila complained.

The whispered I told you so didn’t pass unnoticed by Max, who playfully placed his hand very near your ass.

“Max! It’s full of children here, have some respect!” You laughed, placing a kiss on his chin, only to be interrupted.

“Eww! Mama and daddy don’t!” Luca said making a disgusted expression, only to be reprimanded by his sister.

“How about we head to the castle and take our family photo?” You suggested and Max agreed, asking the guide to walk you to the best picture spot.

The sun was glowing, the four of you wearing your ears. Mila was in front of you while Luca was in front of Max who placed a hand on his shoulder and another on your ass, giving it a light squeeze just as the photographer snapped the picture.

This wasn’t a vacation, though. Just after the fireworks exploded, you were on a SUV, full of Disney World bags including multiple t-shirts, dolls, Mickey Mouse replicas, a play set of Cinderella castle driving to the airport where the jet was already waiting for the four of you.

You laughed after noticing multiple Pandora jewelry bags full of Disney charms, bracelets and earrings, even if you insisted to Max that Mila would never wear them. Max didn’t care, whatever his princess wanted, whatever his princess would get.

Max and you were still wearing your ears, staring at Mila and Luca who were both sleeping between the two of you.

“So, what do you say to a week long Disney vacation when the season’s over?” Max proposed and you giggled.

“Only if you ride all the roller coasters with them while I eat my churro” You answered and Max laughed; his gorgeous cackle which made the corner of his eyes crinkle and his mouth form the most beautiful smile before leaning to leave a kiss on your lips, careful to not disturb the twins.

“Deal”

[sunflowerreid]

Hey, I love your writing and I have an idea for a fic if you're interested:

Spencer and reader are in an established relationship and one day she and some other team members, maybe JJ are watching Reid playing with some kids (it may be Henry and Jack) and JJ makes a comment how Spencer will be the best father or something like that. Reader then feels worried that Spencer might want kids. She knows she doesn't want to have kids ever. So then she starts distancing herself from him and acting a bit cold. Then Spencer worries why is she like that and confronts her. And in the end after a lot of angst there is a happy ending where they want and chose to be child free.

Feel free to ignore this request if it's not something you'd want to write. Sorry for any mistakes English is not my first language.

Hope this is okay :) let me know if you’d like anything else written x

Forever yours - S.R

Warnings: angst

You knew from a young age that you never wanted to have children, the thought of raising a child scared you to death, the responsibility was too much. You hadn’t had a smooth childhood, every conversation between you and your parents ended in an argument, every night you were left alone with your siblings while they went down to the pub, you practically raised them by yourself. You couldn’t go through that again. The sleepless nights, the crying and screaming, the financial debt. None of it.

Spencer knew about your childhood, he knew you hadn’t had it easy and neither had he, the only difference between you and him was his ability to comfort and get along with the younger victims, he knew just what to say to calm them down while you watched uselessly from the sidelines. Your biggest fear was that he wouldn’t accept that you didn’t want a family, that he’d leave you after you told him so you kept quiet, too scared to ruin what you have with him. But right now you regretted not telling him, the insecurity that you aren’t good enough for him rose every time you saw him laughing with Henry, he couldn’t possibly be happy if he stuck with you he’d never have the chance to play with his own kid, a mini version of him instead of his godson. Henry was absolutely adorable with his shoulder length blonde hair, big green eyes and glistening smile, Spencer absolutely adored his godson and did everything he could to make him smile.

The whole team and their families had been invited round Rossi’s house for a dinner party, JJ and Hotch brought their kids along, both currently bored out of their minds so it wasn’t long before Spencer was crouched down at Henry’s and Jack’s level showing them a magic trick, you could hear a squeal of delight come from both of them when Spencer made a coin appear from behind Henry’s ear, Jack eagerly waiting for his turn. Everyone else was stood by the counter, glass of red wine in hand while they admired the interaction between the three of them. JJ made her way over to you while you giggled at the smile on Spencers face, “He’s going to make such a good parent one day, you’re both going to be” she said smiling, slightly tipsy. She didn’t notice your smile fading away slightly, “Thank you JJ” you replied calmly, your eye-line returning to the huge smile plastered on Spencers face. You couldn’t give him that, you couldn’t give him the one thing nature intended you to and you hated yourself for it, he’d be better off with someone who could. Someone like JJ.

You remembered how Spencer used to look at JJ, the same way he looks at you, the way his eyes lit up when she waked into a room, the way he threw his head back when he laughed as hard as he could when she told a joke. Who wouldn’t? She was absolutely gorgeous, so kind and nurturing even after everything she’d been through. You were the opposite, socially awkward and quiet, just average nothing special, you had no idea why Spencer had stuck himself with someone like you. Well it obviously had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t have JJ but still, he could’ve done so much better and you’re realising all of this now.

“You okay honey?” Spencer asked sweetly as he got into the car after saying goodbye to everyone, “Just tired” you replied softly as he started the car. Spencer placed his warm hand on his usual position on your thigh, started slightly as you tensed up, you’re never tense around him. He removed it slowly placing it onto the steering wheel instead. As you arrived back home you were quick to run up to the bedroom to change, not wanting to have to break the news to Spencer, you didn’t want to rip his dream away from him. You climbed into your side of the bed, pulling the covers up to your neck as you felt Spencer climb in the other side, shifting over to reach for your waist and pull you into him. You loved it when he did that, when he placed his head in the back of your neck and kissed you goodnight while holding you tightly, scared to let go, but you couldn’t tonight you had to get away before you said something you’d regret. “Too warm” you mumbled as an excuse, squirming away from him. “What’s wrong angel, please talk to me did I do something wrong” he whispered sadly when you didn’t take his hand in yours, like you normally would when you didn’t want to cuddle. “Go to sleep Spencer” you said in an annoyed tone, maybe if you acted in the way your parents did to you he’d realise how wrong you were for him, how much better off he’d be without you.

Three days. Three days without so much as a touch from Spencer. You could feel your heart breaking every time you saw him, every time you looked into those beautiful sad eyes, he didn’t know what he’d done wrong, he’d tried his best to communicate with you but you just shut down, walls back up to where they used to be. “Are you going to tell me what I did wrong” he asked sternly as you both got home after finishing a tough case, emotions running high. “Nothing wrong Spencer” you replied, turning away from him to avoid making eye contact. “No, no more of this, just stop it, stop acting like everything’s fine because I know somethings wrong so please enlighten me” he said raising his voice slightly. “Just leave it alone Spencer I don’t want to talk about it” you said trying to stay calm, still not facing him. “For fuck sake y/n, what’s wrong with you why are you acting this way!” he shouted his arms raising before falling back down to his sides “Come on are you going to say anything, I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you? Is this it angel is this the end of us, do you not love me anymore, is that it?!” He shouted again when you didn’t respond. “Will you please just look at me!”. You turned around, tears filling your eyes desperately trying to fall over the edge. “No angel no I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I forgot sweetheart, fuck I’m such an idiot” he whispered as he rushed over to you collecting you in his arms while you clung on for dear life, you hated shouting and confrontation and he knew that. “Not good for you m’sorry” you sobbed as your nails dug into his shoulder “Don’t say that angel you’re perfect for me you know that” he choked out, trying not to sob with you. “Can’t give you what you want, can’t be a mother can’t do it m’sorry, you deserve someone that can” you sobbed desperately as your grip tightened scared to let go. “Oh angel” he whispered as he gently encouraged your face to leave the safety of his neck, you looked up a him, tears spilling from his eyes as he wiped yours away, “You’re all I want honey, you’re all I will ever need”. You sobbed loudly, Spencer joining you as he wrapped his arms around you getting as close as possible, “I love you angel, I always will, I’ll never stop.” he sobbed. “You promise?”, “I promise sweetheart, I’ll love you forever”, “And ever?”, “And ever” he laughed softly, tears staining both of your cheeks red “I’m forever yours angel”. “Spence?”, “Yes honey”, “I love you too, forever and ever”.

[even-disco-baby]

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You’re pretty good with that boy, Cuno.” She says it thoughtfully, as though she’s turning this fact over in her mind as she works at the tangled net in her lap. The sea is a soft roar over the horizon, and the world is tinged a dusky blue.

“Really? It doesn’t feel like I am. He still calls me anything but my name. Usually a slur.”

“It’s tough love, Lilienne, that’s all. A kid like that needs discipline.”

“He’s not that hard to deal with. He just wants somebody to play along with him. That’s all any kid wants.”

“He was good to me first.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She arches an eyebrow. “Really now…”

DRAMA — She isn’t doubtful, sire. Just surprised.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Well, I hope you’ll keep on being good to each other, then. The kid certainly needs it.”

EMPATHY — And so do you, she thinks.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You seem good with the young people around here in general,” she muses. “Cuno, those kids at the church, Lily and the boys… You said you used to be a teacher, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — A familiar ache squeezes your lungs. The same ache that drove you to become a teacher in the first place. An incalculable and long forgotten loss.

INLAND EMPIRE — Don’t follow this thread any further. Let it unravel.

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“No, there’s something else… Lost children, a lost Indotribe…” [Follow the thread.]

“I think I wanted to be a father, once.” [Change the subject.]

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She pauses her work, strands of the net wrapped loosely around her fingers, but does not look up. “…Oh?”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Hey, it’s never too late! Now’s your chance to give fatherhood a shot!

“Any chance *we* could make it happen?” [Give her the finger guns.]

“I wonder why I did…”

“It was a stupid thing to want.”

“I still do.”

“I guess it never worked out.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Hm…” She goes back to her work, slowly and carefully. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Can’t remember.”

“In *this* economy?”

“Things never lined up right, I guess.”

“I bet it was *her* fault. She ruined my chances forever.”

“Too poor and drunk and sad.”

“I’d never want to inflict myself on a child.”

“Just look at me.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She does look at you. There is no pity or disgust or whatever other terrible thing you expected in her gaze. Just a quiet acknowledgment.

EMPATHY — To her, you look just like a father she once knew. This only makes her more inclined to agree with you.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “…When I first got pregnant with the boys,” she says quietly, returning to her work, “I was uneasy. Wondered if it was… right to bring them into this world. Into *our* arms…”

PAIN THRESHOLD — A rare pang wracks her. She does not like to think about these things.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I never did decide one way or another. I just knew what I wanted, and so I went ahead with it. *We* went ahead with it. And then again with Lily, even though…”

EMPATHY — Even though at heart she knew, by then, how it would all end.

SHIVERS — Five years ago, a man stands on the boardwalk where the corpse of a different drunken husband will one day be discovered. Bottle still clutched tightly in his hand, he fights the urge to throw himself into the dark water. He wins the battle today, but he will ultimately lose the war.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “However things turned out for you, I’m sure you had your reasons.” She sighs, and cuts a strand of the net with the tip of her knife, then ties it back together. “Though that probably sounds shallow, coming from me.”

“A little, yeah.”

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something?”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Go ahead.”

“Do you regret having kids?”

“Uh… never mind.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She smiles, and there’s an uncharacteristic sadness in the lines around her eyes.

“No,” she says softly. “Never once.”

EMPATHY — She wonders if this is proof of her own selfishness.

It isn’t the children she regrets. It’s the world that she brought them into.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Now that they’re here, all we can do is love them. And you’ve got plenty of love in you for the children, it seems. That’s more than a lot of fathers could say…” She sighs, her eyes shadowed and sunken. “Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say anymore.”

DRAMA — But you know what *you* would like to say, sire. Go ahead. Now’s your moment!

REACTION SPEED — No, it really isn’t. Please don’t push your luck.

“Lilienne…”

Don’t push your luck.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She turns to you, expression inscrutable with the light of the setting sun behind her. “Yes?”

“Do you think *we* could ever… try again?”

“Do you think you could ever see *me* as… a father?”

“Do you think there’s any hope in this world for any of us?”

“Do you think the children will ever forgive us?”

“Do you think I’m… a good man?”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She looks at you, her chin no longer held high, a tired slump in her shoulders and something searching in her eye. Her hands are all tangled in webs of fragile knots.

“I think…” she says slowly, evenly, “you’re looking for something that I can’t give you.”

-1 MORALE

“Okay. Well. Khm. Right.”

“What the hell does *that* mean?”

“That’s not really what I asked…”

Say nothing.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I know what you’re asking,” Lilienne says frankly. “I’m just not so sure that *you* do…”

EMPATHY — For love.

RHETORIC — For vindication.

INLAND EMPIRE — For a lifeline.

VOLITION — For a future.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — Lilienne sighs, watching the twins in the distance, starting the long march home from the beach before dark. “At some point, Harry, you’re going to have to be okay with your life.”

SHIVERS — You have twenty two years left to reach that point.

[mr2swap]

-Calm down, champ, you're ruining my vacations, why aren't you an adult Good Man and stop crying?... oh, of course, I'm a fool! I had completely forgotten, You are no longer the adult here...-

The sound of my own crying caused an incessant pain in my head, the tears slipped down my bulging cheeks, and my pale face began to redden, why not? Can I stop acting like a child? Why can't I stop crying? why… did I have to bother that Gypsy?

I could feel the eyes of all the people in the hotel judging me and while I found myself humiliating myself sitting on a metal bench The man who was only wearing a tiny bikini did not stop showing a smile hidden in his beard at the same time that he caressed his long, muscular, hairy legs that were now adorned with a bunch of tattoos.

FUCK! I hate this stupid vacation and I hate my little nephew Eliot, maybe I was to blame that Gypsy cursed me for taking a picture under her skirt with my cell phone but she doesn't have to make this 100 times worse! I was also very drunk when I did that stupid thing that I will now regret until I break this stupid curse or whatever that bitch did to me.

I had to beg on my knees for Eliot to keep the secret from his parents and to help me find the witch, I hate being an 8-year-old, luckily my brother didn't mind the idea of being away from his son all day to regain romance with his wife, While I try to find the damn witch who made me wake up the next morning in the little body of my nephew in the same bed as his mother he behaves as if nothing is happening.

Eliot was always a pain in the ass, he used to stick to me like I was his hero or something, he even ruined a lot of my chances with some girls when he suddenly showed up and they thought he was my son, he wouldn't stop bothering me until I told him to show my tattoos or show him my huge biceps and if I don't find the witch soon maybe I'll be the one to do all that soon.

Since I woke up this morning in my brother and his wife's room I could feel that something was not right with my mind, Bright colors, sweets, fuck even passing clouds now distract me because I now have the brain of a child 8 years old?

-Listen buddy, how about I buy you a whole tub of ice cream for yourself and leave you in your parents' room for just a couple of hours? I really want to try something called Votka and I can't have you fucking up my adult time.-

After hearing those magic words, the tears stopped staining my face, I knew it was a trick, that she was just trying to get rid of me, She didn't have time for that childish nonsense, she had to find that lady, but the only thing that came out from my mouth was:

-The… flavor that I want?-

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my patreon, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

[cowboyemeritus]

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Five

Series Masterlist

Summary: You sit in on an Emeritus Family business meeting.

Content Warnings: organized crime, prostitution, very vague references to sex trafficking

Read on AO3

Notes: hey! thank you all for sticking around. this is going to be a two-parter — i had more planned out for this "episode" but before I knew it this chapter was already at 3k words. i would like the next few chapters to be more episodic, which means they'll probably be longer, but it's been a while since i've updated this story and i wanted to have something for you all sooner rather than later.

feedback is always welcome — enjoy! :)

It’s a rare Friday night when neither of you are working. Mary lounges on the beat-up couch with a beer in hand, a slasher flick he’s seen a million times playing on the television. You’re in the kitchen hovering over a pot of sugar water, waiting impatiently for it to cool so you can refill the hummingbird feeder. Other than the screaming coming from the living room, it’s an unusually peaceful evening.

The phone rings. Neither of you move. It rings again. Still nothing. You count five bursts of sound before Mary, with a loud, agitated groan, sets his drink down and goes to pick it up. It’s a well established fact that between the two of you, he gets pretty much all of the calls, so answering the phone is his responsibility. That doesn’t stop him from glaring at you as he trudges into the kitchen, picking up the receiver from where it hangs on the wall.

“Howdy.” Mary’s face immediately twists, like he’s sucking on a lemon, when the person on the other end begins speaking. “Yeah, she’s right here.” He holds out the receiver, a severe look on his face. “It’s for you.” Confused, you shuffle over and take it from him, holding it up to your ear. With a grunt, Mary goes back to the couch.

“Hello?”

“Dolcezza!” Copia’s voice is so loud you cringe, moving the phone a few inches away from your head. “How are you?”

This is already weird. It’s been a little over a week since your last encounter with your handler. Normally, he arranges for fights every three or four. You’re still battered and bruised from your last bout, in what he would normally call “no shape” to perform.

“Is there a fight,” you ask. From the couch, Mary turns his head in your direction, already concerned. Copia chuckles.

“No, no, no. I thought that maybe I could take you out tonight.”

What?

“Dolcezza?”

“I don’t know.”

“It will be fun,” he pleads, sounding more like a petulant child than the man you know. “My treat, of course. There are some people I would like for you to meet.”

“Please don’t make me.”

There’s a pause. He sighs. “Cara, this is important. It would mean a lot to me if you came.” You can hear the puppy-eyes through the phone.

God fucking dammit.

“Okay,” you mumble, regretting it the second the words leave your mouth. “Do I need to — I dunno — dress up or anything?” You own very few clothes other than your sweats, a pair of jeans for work, and an assortment of ratty, old t-shirts, mostly hand-me-downs from Mary. The last time you looked at yourself in the mirror, the bruising under your eyes still hadn’t cleared either. Knowing Copia, that won’t cut it at whatever place he has in mind.

“I have made arrangements for that. Kevin is on his way to pick you up. He should be there soon. ”

Then what was the point of asking? “Alright.” You cover the receiver with your hand so he doesn’t hear you sigh. “See you soon.”

“Stupendo! I will see you soon, bella.” You promptly hang up, glancing over at Mary. He looks more curious than anything now.

“Booty call?”

The Pinnacle is really the only legitimate business the Emeritus Family operates. It’s more-or-less your average, high-end gentleman’s club, nothing to really bat an eye at. As the car pulls into the parking lot, bathing the cab in neon purple light, your skin prickles, a tightness forming in your chest.

You weren’t expecting Copia to take you to a strip joint.

“Here we are,” he says. You sit there, motionless, as he steps out of the old Buick, rounding around the front to open your door. He extends a hand and, because you know it’s too late to turn back, you take it. The night is misty with a slight drizzle, so he tries to get you inside as fast he can. It’s a challenge; Copia has provisioned you with a pair of heels and though they’re short, you’ve never worn anything like that before. The test laps you took around his living room were clearly not enough, and there are several points on your way to the entrance when you nearly twist your ankle. 

There’s a line of men waiting to get into the club. You get a few looks, some confused and some intrigued, and instinctively pull down the hem of your silky black dress when you hear a snicker. Copia leads you right to the door, bypassing the line entirely. Two large men are stationed at the entrance, one checking IDs and the other collecting cover fees. When they see Copia, they let the two of you through without a hassle. He nods at each of them as you pass by.

“Alpha, Omega.”

The door opens, and you’re immediately hit by booming music. The inside of the club is dimly lit, illuminated by more purple lights. You obverse that there are two bars on opposite ends of this main room and there are two levels of seating, booths lining the top with tables and chairs organized around the stage. A thin woman with short, silvery hair spins around the pole as the audience whistles and hollers. It takes you a moment to realize she’s completely topless, and you whip your head in the other direction, feeling embarrassed. The wall closest to you features a collage. Looking closer, it appears to be a collection of stills taken from CCTV footage, displaying the faces of various men. Plastered above it is a sign that reads “WALL OF SHAME” in dainty handwriting. The pictures are blurry, but to your surprise, you recognize a few of the faces.

Small world.

Still holding your hand, Copia leads you through the crowd. You stare at the ground as you walk, avoiding looking at the stage like the sight could turn you to stone. The journey ends at an innocuous door labeled “EMPLOYEES ONLY” by the further bar. Copia scans your surroundings once, twice, before opening it, revealing a poorly lit staircase. The room at the bottom is just as dark as the rest of the place.

“Welcome to The Pit, cara,” Copia says quietly. He holds the door open, gesturing for you to start descending the stairs. Though hesitant, you obey, grasping onto the railing for dear life as you take your first few steps into the dark. He follows close behind, at one point grabbing your arm when you misstep, steadying you. At the bottom seems to be a private lounge, much smaller than the hall upstairs. Several couches and chairs, all opulent velvet and leather, furnish the space. Occupying them is a mix of clients, men of a variety of ages but all clearly Emeritus associates, and a few of the entertainers, all exquisitely beautiful women in various stages of undress. There’s another, smaller bar and a long hallway off to your immediate left. It smells heavily of cigarettes and weed. Copia receives several waves and shouted greetings when he enters the room. You largely go unnoticed, which you’re thankful for.

“This way.” With a gentle hand on your back, Copia ushers you down the hall. There are multiple doors on each side, with one at the very end. Only one of the side rooms has light coming from under the door. As you walk by it, you pick up on the sound of creaking, punctuated by moaning. It’s only then that you realize what this place truly is. Unnerved, you peek over your shoulder at Copia. If he heard it the noise, he doesn’t acknowledge it, looking forwards to the end of the hall. That knot in your chest gets even tighter.

“There are some people I would like for you to meet.”

It feels like the door is coming to meet you instead of the other way around. Copia reaches over your shoulder to knock, then has you shuffle awkwardly out of the way as he turns the knob. The room beyond appears to be an office. There’s a desk by the far wall, although the space is dominated by a set of parallel couches with an antique coffee table between them. Two older gentlemen are seated across from each other. One of them has wispy white hair and deep-set wrinkles. The other is bald with an aquiline nose, pronounced frown lines, and a pencil-thin mustache. They both have the Emeritus eye, burning like white-hot stars in the dimly lit room.

“Fratellino,” the older-looking man says, smiling pleasantly. It takes him a moment to stand up, his joints creaking audibly as he does so. He takes a few shuffled steps over to the door, pulling Copia in for a hug. The bald man follows him, but is more reserved in his affection, giving him a quick pat on the back. When their attention turns to you, his face remains neutral, but there’s gleam of… something in his eyes. “And who is this lovely young lady?” Copia tells them your name.

“Dolcezza, my brothers.” He gestures to the older one. “Primo.” The man takes your hand and gives it a firm shake. “And Secondo.” From him you receive a nod.

You know a little bit about Copia’s family, mostly from offhanded comments he’s made in the past. Now you can put faces to names. He’s the youngest of four half-brothers, all Nihil’s sons from different mothers. From an early age he had groomed them to join the family business in the hopes that at least one of them would be competent enough to someday take his place. Whether that’s true or not remains to be seen. Primo, you know, is responsible for the procurement and distribution of various illicit substances. Secondo takes part in this to some extent, but the impression you got from Copia is that he handles the more… unsavory aspects of the business.

“Human resources,” he had once said jokingly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you mumble, still on edge. Primo beckons you both inside and motions for you to take a seat. You end up on one of the couches, sitting between Copia and his oldest brother, who make small talk for the next several minutes. Though you keep your gaze directed down at the coffee table, you can feel Secondo’s eyes on you from the opposite couch.

“We do not usually allow visitors to sit in on our meetings,” he says during a lull in the conversation. Something about his voice adds to your uneasiness, although you can’t tell why. “What makes you think you can bring your whores around unannounced?” You’re not a fan of that at all, whipping your head up to meet his piercing gaze. Copia winces, giving you an apologetic look.

“Try to be polite,” he begs. “This is a… business partner of mine.” Somehow, you like being called that even less. “Where is Terzo?”

Secondo shrugs. “Knowing that asshole? Probably dead in a ditch somewhere.” As if on cue, the office door flies open. In strides a man with raven black hair and a strong, square jaw. He’s holding two stemmed glasses in each hand, a bottle of wine tucked under one arm.

“Gentlemen.” His voice has a raspy quality to it, like he has a horrible case of laryngitis. He approaches the sitting area, swaying a barely-perceptible amount as he does so. The three brothers share a look when he stumbles into the coffee table, but none of them say anything. It’s not until he flops down on the couch next to Secondo, having deposited his precious cargo on the table, that he notices you. He quirks an eyebrow. 

“I did not realize we had a guest. Forgive me, bella; if I had known, I would have brought another glass for you.” He reaches over the coffee table, offering his hand. You take it, expecting a handshake, but he instead brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. For a split second, his gaze wanders across the scars that adorn them, before flicking back up to you. “Terzo Emeritus,” he purrs, an intrigued look in his eyes. “I am the proprietor of this establishment.” Next to him, Secondo grunts.

“Let us get on with this,” he says, looking to Copia. “You called this meeting. Now tell us about this ‘proposal’ of yours.” All eyes are now on your handler. For the first time since you’ve met him, he actually looks nervous.

“Yes, well.” He swallows, placing a hand on your knee. “I am looking to expand my operation. Our client base is growing; they want more fights, more often. That is hard to arrange, though. The biggest issue is usually the venue. We find the space most of the time; warehouses, old gyms, et cetera.” Terzo already looks bored. “But we cater to a more, eh, refined audience. They like nice things.” It doesn’t look like he’s getting his point across. “What I am saying is that I would like to start by adding some classier venues to the rotation. I think The Pinnacle would be perfect.”

The image of you up on that stage, knocking the lights out of another girl while men throw dollar bills at you, briefly flashes through your mind. You get a queasy feeling.

Terzo laughs out loud, adjusting the scarf tied tightly around his neck. “You cannot be serious, fratellino. Why would I give up my club for your silly games? Do you know what that would do to our revenue stream? I have to make sure my girls are paid, you know.”

Does that include the ones down here?

“I know what you are thinking,” Copia says, learning forward to look at his brother. He’s got an intense look on his face. “But I am not asking for a whole lot. One night, every few weeks. You could have the bar open. Your girls could work before and after the fight. And you charge, what? Ten dollars per person to get in?”

“Fifteen,” Terzo spits.

“That is chump change.” Copia reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Terzo. “Copied from Psaltarian’s books. In case you remain unconvinced.” The third Emeritus brother unfolds the paper, his eyes widening as he reads whatever is written on it. He passes it to Secondo, who raises his eyebrows and gives Copia a mildly bemused look. The paper travels once more, this time to Primo.

“Well,” he says, handing it back before you can see it. “That is certainly something.” Copia’s posture straightens, vindicated.

“I still have my doubts, though,” Terzo interjects. The grip on your knee tightens. “Those numbers are impressive, yes, but what makes you think you can pull in enough people to make this whole endeavor worth it? I am not handing over my establishment so that a handful of horny men can watch some girls beat each other up.” He looks at you, pityingly. “Mi dispiace, signorina. I am sure you are quite an athlete.” He’s perceptive. Copia perks back up at this.

“That is why I wanted you to meet her.” You look at him, confused and nervous for what he might say next. “She is a remarkable fighter, una demionetta. Dozens of people come to watch her, and that number is only increasing.” He sighs. “Nihil does not understand, but I thought you all might. If you were to see her in her element, you would get why I think she — why this — is worth investing in.”

You feel like Copia has just dropped a bomb in your lap.

Four pairs of green and white eyes are now focused on you, clearly expecting you to say something. “I, uh.” You swallow. “Yeah, I guess.” Your face is burning, pulse racing.

“What do you say, gentlemen?” There’s a long pause. Terzo is first to break the silence.

“You know how I despise violence, fratellino.” He chuffs. “But if you are serious about this, I would be willing to see what this ‘demionetta’ of yours can do, provided everyone else is on board.” The attention of the room turns to Secondo, who has been sitting quietly with his arms crossed.

“Fine,” he grunts. “But it had better be worth my time.” His eyes bore into you as he says it.

“I will pass,” Primo says. “But I can tell that this young lady is indeed formidable. Copia, you are right in that we must expand our holdings if we wish to compete with the other Families. They have been making trouble for us already; incoming shipments have been going missing recently.”

“The Giordanos, I suspect,” Secondo states. “Sons of bitches…”

“Bloodsports it is, then!” Terzo exclaims, throwing his hands up in front of him. “This calls for a toast.” He rises on steadier feet than before, rounding around the desk to rummage through a drawer. Copia is busy looking at you with a reassuring, proud smile when his brother pulls out a bottle-opener, tossing it in his direction. The device hits him in the back of the head. You can’t help but feel it’s justified. Copia glares at him before turning his attention to uncorking the wine bottle on the table. You watch as Terzo opens another drawer, pulling out a liquor glass and another bottle filled with a green liquid. From a carafe on the desk he pours a small amount of water into the glass before unscrewing the top of the bottle and adding a generous pour of what you presume is absinthe. It’s Mary’s drink of choice when he’s songwriting, but he normally adds more water and a sugar cube.

Beverage in hand, Terzo returns to the couch as Copia pours out equal measures of wine in each glass. He hands one to Primo, then to Secondo, and is about to give one to you when Terzo snatches it from him, taking a claiming sip. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks.

“Go on,” he says, holding out the glass of absinthe. “If you are really so tough.” A fire is lit inside of you at the prospect of a challenge. Copia is about to protest but before he can, you accept, taking a sip of the green liquid. Even watered down it’s fucking strong, the taste of licorice assaulting your senses. You manage to keep your composure. Terzo looks amused, raising his wine glass. “To new business ventures. Saluti.”

[jamiesfootball]

Augusnippets Day 14

Prompt: gifts

cw: implied/referenced child abuse

Summary:

Sometimes gift-giving ain't all it's cracked up to be, and sometimes it is. - A series of moments from Jamie's life.

Here on AO3

Age 4

Gasp! “Is this for me? Did you make this? Oh, Jamie, it’s beautiful, I love it. Come on, now, give mummy hugs.”

Age 7

“Oh, thanks baby. That looks wonderful. No, I do, I do like it! I do! Mummy’s just really tired today, I promise. Soon as the holidays are over, I’ll go back to working my normal shifts.”

Age 9

“Did you make me breakfast in bed? That’s so sweet! Thank you so much, love. …Was this by any chance the last tin of beans in the cupboard?”

Age 11

“What the hell is this? Did your mum put you up to this? Bit cheap, innit?”

Age 12

“No, of course I’d love to come to your match, Jamie. But you know with this new job I started, it’s not a good look if I ask for time off so soon.”

Age 13

“Did you think that I wouldn’t already have the new kit? Huh? You think I’m broke? Is that the kind of garbage your mother’s been filling your head with? Teaching you how to disrespect your old man?”

Age 14

“Look, junior. I know things got a bit heated between us last time I came around. Just the way it is with us men sometimes, am I right? I’m sure you said some things you regret too. But your mom and I, we’ve been talking, and I think I’ve got a shot there. Make us a proper family again. Now, what do you say you and me, we celebrate the occasion by taking ourselves a little father/son bonding trip? Ever been to Amsterdam?”

Age 15

“We can make a day of it. Get lunch, maybe go to the cinema? Oh. Oh, no, that’s all right, love. I didn’t know that you’d made plans with your friends already. Right. Right. Well, if you think you’ll be home in time for dinner-“

Age 16

“-right. Uh huh. No, I know you’re busy, love, but I was thinking. I know how stressed you’ve been lately and how hard you’ve been working. Maybe later this year, you and I can take a trip, hm? Around New Year’s? Just the two of us. Get away for a little bit before you skyrocket into superstardom.

“No, you don’t have to help pay for it any of it, Jamie-”

Age 17

“-No, I know you’ve got a match, Jamie. It doesn’t have to be this weekend. I told you, whenever you’re free-“

Age 18

“Now that you’re making money, I think it’s only fair you treat your old man to a drink.”

Age 19

“New fancy contract, and you’re telling me you can’t afford to do something nice? For your own dad? C’mon, son, I’m not asking for a Porsche here-“

Age 20

“I’m not saying you have to like him, Jamie! But Simon’s important to me, and I’d like you to actually meet him before-“

Age 21

“-lazy, uninspired, waste of fucking space on the pitch! Is it any fucking wonder that Pep’s got you warming the bench for the real players when you’re out there bottling penalties? Hey. Hey! You fucking look at me when I’m talking to you-!“

Age 22

“I know you’re still screening my calls, but I just called to thank you for the flowers. I’d ask about your birthday, but I’m sure you already have plans.”

Age 22

SMACK.

Age 23

“Oh, babes, I wish you’d told me. I already promised my mum I’d go ‘round hers for the holiday. Only she’s just moved down here, and she hasn’t been able to meet anyone yet- no, you do not want to meet her, trust me. But hey, you have fun in Spain- wait you didn’t already buy the tickets, did you?”

Age 24

“Would you look at that? City wins on my son’s birthday, and he ain’t even here to see it. All because he let some stupid yank make him soft, and now he’s too much of a pussy to stick it out when things get tough. What’s wrong, junior? Did Roy Kent calling you little bitch on TV hurt your widdle feelings? Huh? You gonna cry? You gonna cry about it?-”

[“Dad”]: Don’t you fucking hang up on me

[“Dad”]: Jesus Christ, no need to be so sensitive

[“Dad”]: Did you sort my tickets for the next match?

Age 24

“Yeah, but, you know, some folks might also consider that buying affection, you know.”

Age 24

“Jamie? Oh… we didn’t expect you to call. No, it’s fine, we aren’t going anywhere; Simon’s tinkering around in the kitchen… You tried them? Really. That’s- ahem, of course. Of course I’ll let him know.

“SIMON! Jamie tried your gluten free lemon pound cake! He said it was ‘fucking tasty’! His words!

“Jam, Simon would like to know what your nutrition guidelines say about – love, is this a list?”

Age 24

[Isaac]: Alright, everyone. Jamie’s birthday is coming up, so it’s time to start making plans.

[Sam]: Did you remember to remove Jamie from the group chat before you sent the text?

[Isaac]: Shit

Age 25

“...and this is going to sound so weird, but I promise I am not a stalker. I’m Roy’s sister. Yes, that Roy. Uh, you may be aware that he has a niece – Phoebe, yes – and she has something important she would like to ask you.”

“Hi Jamie! It’s Phoebe! Would you like to come celebrate Uncle’s Day with us?”

Age 25

“I love it.”

[hiatusdeity]

🍏 anon!!! Thinking about the qsmp. That's it. That's the ask /j

-qsmp!reader being an egg protector/egg-babysitter, kinda like badboyhalo, but they're much more..violent about how they protect the eggs/kids.

>Quackity's trying to get Tallulah again? Qsmp!reader has fucking spidey sense from halfway across the island and is by Tallulah's side in three seconds top.

>Maybe they're super protective over the kids because they never got to have one of their own, or their kid got unfairly killed by the binary codes or something. Just anything to give them that fire to fight for the kids?!

>Even for some drama, the reader has been known to be able to kill the binary codes (source: just trust me) They're known to be a fucking menace if anything/anyone dare tries to hurt the kids 🧑‍🔧

anon i could litwrally kiss you this is so good, such a good concept for like a fic or story. i’ll do some bullet points of headcanons and maybe a short story, may also revisit this in the future!

QSMP!Reader

- the angst from having lost their own egg would be gut wrenching. and i know exactly how it would’ve happened. they weren’t able to take care of their egg for a day, and had asked everyone on the server to take care of them. to do their tasks. except that an event happened, perhaps the new arrivals, or an argument or affair. and your poor little baby was forgotten. tucked into a bed they would never wake up from.

-you can image the grief, logging on to clean up the house and to wake up your little sunshine. only to find they are not moving, they are stone cold, no sign of life emits from them. and you wonder, what went wrong? how could someone be so selfish, so horrible, to let a defenceless baby die? it must’ve been hours that you sat there, with shaky arms to gather your dead child. you held them for hours, praying for a miracle, a heartbeat to reappear, a breath to escape them. but no matter how long you waited, heaving with sobs as the egg in your arms stayed deadly still, they never woke up.

-resentment was the most prominent emotion you felt, in fact, it didn’t wash away or falter for months. everyone forgot. they could’ve been saved, helped, so easily, if people weren’t so wrapped up in each other. you refused to speak to anyone who was active that day.

-months seemed to rot away, time was a fickle thing, and in your own distorted realm of time, your bed became your resting place. lack of eating and drinking, nothing had much of a purpose anymore, that was until there was a visitor at your door. not many did visit, considering a lot of them weren’t allowed near your home after what happened. with a huff you had descended down your stairs, not seeing anyone when you glanced through your door peep hole. cautiously you had opened the door, and the breath got knocked out of you. hot burning grief punched you in the stomach at the sight before you. a little egg, who was clearly lost.

-your instincts had kicked in, you could control this, you could help. with not much thought you knelt down, eye level with the small child, “hey kid, looks like you’re lost, is that right?” you spoke gently, even though your head was screaming and your heart felt like it had been ripped out your chest for the second time. at the girl’s nod, you offered your hand. “we’d better fix that, who are your parents..?” you finished the sentence, realising you hadn’t even asked for the kid’s name.

-the kid hastily scribbled “wilbur” onto a notepad.

-Ah, the kid was tallulah, you remembered her pretty well because of how bitter you felt at her arrival. a kid just randomly found? and for a father who didn’t even want her at first. But as she stood in front with you, your throat clogged up with regret, you could never hate or resent the girl. “i know wilbur, that’s fine.” you reassured with an affirmative nod, “how about you get on my shoulders and we look for him?” you offered, surprised at how trusting tallulah was as she went into your arms, it made your heart ache. as you set her comfortably on your shoulders, you started walking towards the area you knew wilbur resided in.

-Tallulah was pretty far out. “hey tallulah?” you began curiously, at her nod, you asked the question that had been practically burning you. “how’d you get so lost? it’s pretty far.”

-Tallulah hastily wrote on her notepad, you waited patiently, in fact, the scratching of pencil was familiar and brought comfort. you collected the paper with one hand, the other still firm, but gently keeping ahold of tallulah’s leg. me and pa found this pretty place, i accidentally stepped on a warp plate and i was then near you, pa probably didn’t notice the warp plate.

-the lump in your throat somehow got bigger, oh, you knew what that warp plate was. it was your kid’s favourite place, they had demanded a warp there because they loved it so much. tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to choke them back, not here, not in front of tallulah. “you’re, you’re dad must be worried then.” you rushed out, trying to clear your watery vision.

-after a couple of hours of walking, you had made it near wilbur’s house, and it was no surprise that you could see multiple people yelling out the girl’s name. anger flourished in your gut briefly, of course, of course everyone on the server would put their lives and time on the line to save an egg, any egg but yours. “we’re close now, seems like everyone’s been looking for you.” you spoke softly, and then realised tallulah had been asleep for a while, softly snoring into your hair, one hand gently wrapped in your curls and the other dangling from your shoulder. you had missed this. you had missed it so much.

-as you approached, a couple of faces recognised you, their eyes immediately cast to the ground in shame, but their double takes of seeing tallulah made them call for wilbur. The tall man emerged from his house, looking dishevelled and frantic, you had felt that way too. his eyes locked on Tallulah and he practically ran, “darling? is that you? what did you to her, i swear if she’s hurt.” you scoffed, patting tallulah so she’d wake up, groggily she did. the nerve of this guy, he clearly didn’t know you would never do what the rest of the server did.

-“she’s fine. maybe keep better watch of your kid before you blame me.” you spat, feverishly taking her off your shoulders and passing her to wilbur, he was taken aback by your words, but his eyes softened at the sight of his daughter unharmed. tallulah had grabbed at her father’s face in delight, shortly taking a second to write on her paper once again. pa, they saved me! they kept me safe <3

-with confirmation from his daughter, he nodded gratefully at the stranger, his eyes apologising for assuming the worst. as you went to walk away, he called after you, “wait. i know i can trust you, if i’m ever gone and can’t take care of her, could you?”

-it was a stab in the gut, and you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes, maybe it was strange to him, but this felt like a second chance and a mockery at the same time. with a choked voice, you muttered a “yes.” and warped home, where you had cried endlessly until the morning.

-after a while, it seemed the server had labelled you a protector of some sorts. if anyone went exploring with their egg, you went, sometimes just lurking in the background in case things went wrong. When parents couldn’t be there for their kids, you took on the role of almost a god parent, coddling the babies happily.

-and everyday you thought of what could’ve been. things were mostly peaceful on the island, but one day the air shifted. a wonderful egg called bobby had lost a life to a monster, a monster made of numericals. the island was no longer safe, and if they were going to attack with monsters and ghouls and otherworldly creatures, you wanted to make them wish they never stepped foot on the island.

-you had set up warps to each main location, some near houses that were far away. you had given each member and egg a walkie-talkie, being stern that if ever they were in trouble, you would be there. the island grew dark, and the eggs were scared, but you wouldn’t let them feel that way for long.

-the next time the monster of code attacked, you were babysitting a few of the eggs, chayanne, tallulah and leonarda. you were stargazing, sat on a red and white picnic blanket while the kids tried (and failed) to name constellations. you had heard static, and your eyes sharpened, focusing in on a green light in the forest ahead. quietly you had gotten the children’s attention, swiftly handing them all totems and golden apples, you had kept your eyes trained on the beast coming out from the trees. “if anything goes wrong, you warp to my place okay kids? no arguments.” you instructed, they had hesitantly nodded, finally noticing the problem before them.

suddenly the binary code had dove in, targeting Leo and Tallulah. you saw red, hot fury coated your limbs, with seemingly little effort you had pulled the code off of them. “in your dying breaths i want you to realise, you never stood a chance.”

you deflected it’s attacked with uncontrolled rage, it’s fighting began to get frantic, realising your onslaught would not stop until you dropped dead on the ground from exhaustion. it moved to fly away, but you lurched forward and clenched your fist around a wing, sadistically ripping it off. with the binary caught off guard, you plunged your sword through its chest, blood spurting everywhere, and a crazed look in your eyes. with relief, with the satisfaction of winning, you spat on the dying thing.

-silently, you wiped the blood off you, turning to the kids that had their mouths open in shock. they had cheered and went to hug your legs, “nope nope, you might get blood on you and your dads will not be happy with me if that happens.” you smiled, gesturing for them to teleport to your house, so you could get changed and tuck them into bed, they were having a sleepover after all.

“Quackity.” your voice was deadly, you had a feeling, it was the dead of night and you had bolted to wilbur’s house. “get away from that bed or i swear i will kill you as many times as it takes for you to disappear permanently.” you had growled, pouncing forward before he could use his weapon on the sleeping girl, he was now pressed up against the wall, your axe held snugly against his bare throat.

“woah woah! i wasn’t actually going to do it i swear.” he breathed in a panic, putting his hands up in surrender, his weapon clanking on the floor. you kicked the sword away, eyes slit as you watched the pathetic man cornered.

“i’ll be real with you Quackity.” you started firmly, opting to try and change his view. “my kid, i trusted that someone would take care of them too. i understand the anger, how dare everyone still be happy right?”

he nodded, trails of tears streaming down his face silently. “right. and it hurts so much, because it wasn’t your fault, you trusted people and they failed you. and you can get mad at people all you want, you can fight them, kill them.” you affirmed, starting to release the grip on him. “but the kids are innocent. they are defenceless, and tilin, or even my baby, would never want us to hurt their siblings in revenge.” your watery eyes looked into his brown ones, you let him go, storing your axe in your backpack.

Quackity had sat in the chair, close to where he’d been held. “Tilin would never forgive me if i killed his family.” he cried, “i can’t believe i almost did that, im such a terrible person i’m so-“

you reached out, clasping his shoulder. “don’t.” you offered your hand, walking him out of the house before giving him a tight hug. “grief makes us do things, bad things, weird things. grief can change you.” you pulled back from the embrace, relief flooding you as you saw the maliciousness dissipate from his body. “it’ll be okay one day.”

but as you said that, the both of you said nothing as your own tears ran down. maybe it wouldn’t be.

but you had a purpose.

A/N (author’s note): i feel like i put my whole ass into this piece goddamn. i really enjoyed this concept and it’s not often i find myself getting lost in writing, a lot of the time writing is so hard for me, but this one flowed really well :)

as always, my green apple anon delivers wonderful stuff, and thank you so much for the support anon, and all my anons and people who boost my posts.

reason why they couldn’t just teleport back is because in my head, warping can really tire people, and can especially tire eggs, so tallulah might’ve been at risk if she had teleported back, and the fact she was with a stranger and not a parent, you need to feel certain when warping.

i didn’t want to give the egg a name just in case i never continued this, but i’m naming it anyway, the egg was called otto. and their accessory/trademark would’ve been a flower crown yesyes.

[archivalofsins]

The Futa and Mikoto dynamic in the latest minigram-

MILGRAM EP57 "Caffeine"

[57-1]

Mahiru: Would anyone like some coffee?

Yuno: Do you have any sugar?

Mahiru: Of course!

Yuno: Thank you very much.

Mahiru: Want some sugar?

roar

Futa: Why are you only asking me?!

[57-2]

Mikoto: I don't think she meant anything by it.

Futa: I can't keep my mouth shut when they want to make assumptions and treat me like a little kid.

Futa: It's bitter.

Mikoto: (Maybe it's because you act like this.)

Mikoto: It's a matter of taste.

Mikoto: So, I don't think it relates to being a kid or an adult.

Mikoto: Also, you should apologize later.

Futa: How about you then?

Mikoto: Me?

Mikoto: I've gotten used to drinking coffee.

Mikoto: It's not really a love/hate thing.

OVERTIME

ENDLESS PHONE CALLS

PILES OF WORK

Mikoto: Coffee was more like something like a must have...

Futa: ?

The way Mikoto says taste has nothing to do with being a child or adult. That mindset right there is why I believe Amane let's her guard down around him and allows herself to be childish when he's around.

21/04/16 (Amane’s First Trial)

Amane: …………

Mikoto: Oh, welcome back Amane! ……what’s with the grim face? Ah, right, the guard summoned you! How was it? Did you cry? I bet you were so scared you cried, right!?

Amane: ……alright then. If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get.

Mikoto: Huh? Oooi! Hey, are you listening?? Ooooi!

Along with why, when he became more standoffish in response to her verdict and she saw him being avoided, she began to avoid others. Turning people away when they approached her as she saw them not approaching him. So, she may have gotten the impression that others were only approaching her due to her age, not because they cared about her.

Something that could give further context to Shidou noting Mikoto and his behavior specifically in his second trial written interrogation,

Q.07 Are there any prisoners you get along with?

Shidou: Kayano-kun has become like that, and I can’t spend my time smoking at the moment, so the smoking trio has disbanded, which is a bit lonely.

Despite him and amikoto around this same time being drawn smoking together. Along with Kazui literally encouraging Shidou to take breaks in the timeline as well. Plus, Mikoto's change in attitude having very little to do with him not smoking to his own admission in the same answer. Like he states he just hasn't had the time to do it at the moment but starts with noting Mikoto's attitude isn't helpful. Probably because he thinks Amane is mirroring him and he's not srtying a good example for the kids. Which isn't his fucking responsibility since he's in a high stress situation for one.

Secondly, despite being like this, he's still better with kids than Shidou is. Let that fucking sink in.

Amane let's herself be childish around Mikoto because he's less likely to judge her solely based on being a child. Instead as he would treat her like any other person. He'd treat her as herself and someone he only knows about through their own individual actions.

Not base his judgment of her off of something she has no control over like her age-

20/06/13

Amane: ……what’s wrong, Shidou-san? Your hand has stopped marking. This is mathematics, so there’s no questions about the answers. If I got something wrong, please mark it with an X.

Shidou: I…… I just don’t understand. If everything about MILGRAM is true…… why did a child like you have to become a murderer? Just imagining what sort of circumstances must have led to that, it makes me so sad……

Amane: ……*sigh*. Is that right. I don’t think I’m going to get along with you, Shidou-san. I don’t agree with the fact you refuse to acknowledge that I have my own free will, and that I should be held accountable for my actions, just because I’m a child. I may have only been alive for 12 years, but all the choices I’ve made, even if they weren’t the best ones, were entirely my own. What point is there in you getting sad when I have no regrets myself? ……please give me back my test. It seems you don’t have the concentration levels required to be my teacher. I’m going to get Kotoko-san to teach me instead.

Shidou: Amane…… I don’t think that’s true. However smart you may be…… you’re still just a child.

Mikoto, in contrast, recognizes that Mahiru asking Futa if he wanted sugar had nothing to do with her treating him like a child. Instead, this was Mahiru being considerate and taking note of Futa's taste and behavior. Then giving him the opportunity to adjust his drink to his liking. Something that goes totally unappreciated because he gets upset that she didn't ask Mikoto the same thing.

When in all honesty I wouldn't put it past Mahiru to have taken a glance at Mikoto soulessly drinking his coffee and internally go,

"Nothing will make him like this drink. I don't even think he tastes it. There's hope for Futa though."

That's how neutral he is to it. Hell, he even admits he's neutral to the drink in this same conversation. Referring to it as a must-have or a necessity for his job. He's basically just drinking it because it's there, and it's now a habit for him to drink it when it's available due to the environment he was in prior to this. He just mindlessly with no real thought went hey there's coffee might as well get some then when asked went oh yeah I have no feelings towards this drink.

Leaving Futa there confused downright puzzled like of you don't like or hate it why did you voluntary get some as Mikoto is their having trauma flashbacks like,

"God the work, the hours, the phonecalls...coffee my only reprieve and fuel. The thing I needed but..."

Yet this also shows off something about Mikoto that gets overlooked. The guy is no pushover. Even though he doesn't want to be rude he will be direct and tell others when they mess up. Going ad far to tell Futa,

"You should apologize later."

While talking Futa through the mistake of tying taste to maturity.

Because that's a stupid thing to fucking do. Assuming having preferences when it comes to what one eats or a person has to eat a certain food due to their age alone and no other health reasons is stupid.

20/06/03

Futa: ……huh? What’s your problem? You’re just leaving all your meat? What a weird kid.

Amane: You say that, but you’re not eating all of your food either. ……are you not able to eat your vegetables? Even though you’re an adult.

Futa: Huh, what, so you’re just eating grass? What are you, a rabbit or something? Since you’re just a brat, you should be eating your meat properly. You won’t grow if you don’t.

Amane: ……you make some really funny jokes, don’t you, Futa-san.

Eat what you like regardless of age isn't a hard concept to grasp. Going I can't eat this it's too childish or drinking something a way you don't like to seem more mature is a waste of your own time..if it doesn't taste good don't eat if you don't want it politely decline. If you actually do want it eat it.

Mikoto respects Futa's behavior here but ultimately gets the point that Shidou has been failing to get with Amane. If the problem is the act of consuming certain things has been intrinsically tied to a person's age you should remove that pretense entirely by going,

"I don't think it relates to being a kid or an adult."

Taste is just taste. Instead of continually pushing like you're a child, children like sweets come have some pancakes. Can I tempt you into these childlike pleasures, Amane? Shidou they're fucking pancakes they don't have an age restriction you absolute tool. A lot of adults enjoy them, too. Shidou goes through every possible reason Amane should try these things while missing the point of why she ultimately doesn't taste it. Because he's arbitrarily decided she should like and try these things because she's a child and has consistently chosen to ignore the fact she declined.

Unlike Mahiru, who gets yelled at and just leaves. To the point that even Mikoto says Futa should apologize for that. This is why I find the dynamic between Amane and Mikoto, and Futa and Mikoto so interesting. Because when they get upset he stays leveled for the most part and gives them space to be themselves without outwardly labeling their mindsets as childish and immature. Because on some level he gets it which makes him more likely to talk it out to them like they're people instead pf just blatantly lecturing them about being roo childish or immature.

Instead of going you're acting like a child he'll just bluntly go its a bother having you be angry all the time in a way of seeking attention.

20/06/15

Mikoto: Hey, it’s kinda a bother having you be so angry and tense all the time. You should stop trying get everyone to pay attention to you. You’re a uni student, right? You can’t act like that once you start working properly.

Futa: Huh!? Shut up. Not like I care what you say. Even though we’re in this shitty situation, you’re just chatting away, it’s stupid. Aren’t you the one who’s acting out of place here? ……also the fact you give everyone nicknames is just gross.

Mikoto: *sigh* It’s more stupid to be taking this all so seriously. I mean, it’s definitely just a reality TV program. There’s no way a real prison exists that’s this lax. Also, I don’t give nicknames to everyone. I don’t give them to young kids like Amane, or to the hard-to-approach types like Shidou-san. I mean, I’m not giving you one, right?

Futa: ……oi, which group are you trying to say I am?

Futa "I don't care what you say" Kajiyama. Also how do you feel about coffee, which group do I fall under there. You called out my anger as attention seeking well the way you nickname people is gross.

*sigh*

Is right Mikoto it's absolutely right. Even when reprimanding him and bringing something adjacent to age Mikoto still focuses on social standing. How it won't be beneficial and instead inappropriate for Futa to behave how he is here when he does join the workforce. It's a perspective hard to combat because it's reasonable and straightforward. It's also something Mikoto doesn't have to say at all unless he is genuinely concerned in some way. Futa's behavior can lead to him being ostracized or deemed unapproachable and rude in a work environment who cares it's not his job to correct that. He can just learn the hard way like everyone else has to.

Haruka's social skills are kind of poor and could lead to problems with others.

20/06/05

Haruka: Ah…… ah, u-um, Mikoto-san. The c-communication……? thing, that you were saying was important. I-I thought, I’d give it my best…… Um, so, Mikoto-san, what’s your favourite food……?

Mikoto: Ooh? Nice going, Haru-kun~

Yeah, we still have no idea how long this lifestyle will go on for, so it’s best if we all get along together here.

My favourite food…… I like pasta and horse-meat sashimi. Also bubble tea, and recently I’ve been big on custard puddings. What about you?

Haruka: ……ah, I, I wonder…… H-hamburg steak, and omurice, a-and also…… what else? Ah. Cotton candy……

Mikoto: C-cotton candy!? That’s the first time I’ve met someone who has that in their top three favourites!? ……man, Haru-kun, you really are hilarious.

Who cares it's not his job to tell him how to practice that or make sure everyone is communicating well with others. He is in this weird situation it would ve so much easier to just keep to himself and mind his business. Like Kotoko does at the start but instead he behaves in a way similar to Mahiru.

Yet, instead of just talking with others to include them, Mikoto gives them pointers on how to further include themselves. Whether they're talking with him or not. He goes well- Here are these tools that could make communicating easier and more beneficial to you. This is important to setting the right atmosphere now off you go. Then when it works out he's proud of them.

He states they've grown and changed into good people and he doesn't shove the thing in their face or even take any credit for it.

22/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Haruka: Mikoto-san. Um, are you ok……?

Mikoto: Ah, Haru-kun. It’s been a while since we last talked, huh. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you doing ok……?

Haruka: Ah, I’m fine. I’ve been enjoying myself, a lot. Um, I’m sorry, for avoiding you. I was a bit scared. Of you, honestly……

Mikoto: Ahhh, yeah. I’ve been lashing out whenever I go to sleep, right? ……it’s fine. Even I think you’re right to be scared.

You know, I kinda just hate that I don’t even know what’s going on myself…… haha.

Ah, but despite all that you still came and talked to me because it’s my birthday, right? Thank you, you’ve grown into a good man.

Then he just continues living like oh that's good proud of you for coming so far back to the suffering I go now.

Haruka: Wait you said you were fine.

Mikoto:

Even when it comes to welcoming Amane back and seeing that she was upset after her interrogation. Why was Mikoto the one who did that and not Shidou?

Why did Mikoto see Amane being quiet and clock that something was up and not the guy literally attempting to force himself in a parental role over her. Why was it when Amane was actually upset he was the only one to take a second and go hey are you good oh wait yeah the interrogation of course you're upset- my god it must have been terrible for you!

Why was he here in regard to any of these situations? When literally anyone else could have been noted. Because Mikoto, unlike Shidou and possibly to Shidou's annoyance- Is good with those Shidou regards as children. When he talks to Amane, she listens and takes him seriously. She even takes notes when Shidou talks to her he gets pancakes thrown in his face. This is all because Mikoto's way of speaking respects that someone is a person first and doesn't emphasize the things they don't have control over and may be sensitive about.

Outside of blatantly telling them like here, being an adult or a child isn't tied to things like that. Because it's not tied to food preferences it's tied to the choices we make and why. Anyone can be a better and more considerate person if we just work on communicating properly with those around us. That sort of mindset and knowing when not to rub someone's face in something because he doesn't rub in Futa's face that he complains about the drink being bitter after complaining about being asked if he wanted sugar which at that point he clearly needed it. No he keeps that's shit to himself and just thinks pinpoints what caused Futa to respond in such a hostile way and goes I don't think that's how that works. He goes to the root insecurity and goes no what you like to eat is not tied to whether you're a child or an adult. It's just what you like to eat or don't.

Which is really good on so many levels and highlights so well why he does get along with most of the younger prisoners.