#new phone wallpaper bc why not too

[bindeds]

[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.

#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,

a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO

masterlist. request something :>

“Sir, someone is here to see you.”

Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.

“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”

“Someone else, sir.”

“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming. 

The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.

You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.

“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?” 

“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.

“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks. 

“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”

.

On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—

“Charlie?” 

“Dad!”

When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.

“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”

“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.

“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”

“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone. 

“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you. 

Something in his room buzzed intermittently. 

Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.

“Ohhh no.”

.

“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”

“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.

“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?” 

“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”

Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.

“Ow, what—”

“Go.”

“Babe, what’s—”

“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.

“Honey?” 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.

“Hey!”

Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.

“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?” 

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”

“Luci.”

“What?” His head snapped in your direction.

A silent gasp escaped you. 

His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain. 

Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”

“We’re just friends.”

“I know that but—”

“It’s an expression.”

Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.

You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.

Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.

“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”

“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”

All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.

.

The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable. 

Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.

He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you. 

You bit your lip.

“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.

“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”

“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”

“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”

“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”

“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms. 

Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you. 

“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.

You grinned back. “Okay.”

You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek. 

Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside. 

Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.

“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.

“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended. 

“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.

You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.

“I’m gonna sit back …”

You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into. 

He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high. 

“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.

“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.

You bit your lip. “Well?”

Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree. 

He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint. 

He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.

He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards. 

The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second. 

He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further. 

“Whoops,” he grinned. 

Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you. 

“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”

Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. “I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”

“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car. 

Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them. 

You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of. 

He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.

A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips. 

His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.

His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.

“Luci … fuck …”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”

Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.

Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.

It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name. 

His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal. 

Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.

“Luci, please …”

“Please what, honey?”

“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.

“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”

A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.

You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you. 

“You want it all, princess?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.

 “Are you sure?”

“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”

He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.

Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head. 

Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—” 

“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone. 

Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”

He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”

It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed. 

He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.

“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”

You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”

With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace. 

A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you. 

His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less. 

“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”

“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”

His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend. 

Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away. 

“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.

He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.

“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed. 

When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat. 

“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”

You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders. 

 “You?” Was all you could manage. 

“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”

You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.

“In me, Luci!”

He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed. 

“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered. 

“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”

“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”

“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand. 

“Yeah …”

“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him. 

“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.

Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.

Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.

“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”

You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke. 

A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass. 

Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.

You winced as you bent to take it.

Brat >:)

you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]

you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]

HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]

i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]

because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]

bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]

You chuckled as you swiped the notification.

You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al

Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH

You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo

Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole

You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

Vox : ( typing … )

Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—

“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.

Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.

“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”

“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.

You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat. 

You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.

He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.

You laughed. Hard.

“What—what’s happening why’re you—”

“The clothes, baby!” 

“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”

“I mean …” you smirked. 

“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking. 

“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”

“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket. 

He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.

“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”

“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“

“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”

“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.

Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened. 

“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”

You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours. 

“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”

“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek. 

“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”

“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”

“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said. 

And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.

I know you love me because we love like it’s fate.

.

You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them. 

“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends. 

You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.

“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind. 

“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”

[miumura]

helloooo !!! can i have hanni gf hcs? thank you

💭 — HANNI AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND !

SOPH — hihi ofc!! tysm for requesting :) <3 this is SOOO overdue but im starting to work on my requests again <3 im sorry if this is a bit short, i haven’t been motivated recently but i tried! anyways smth for my bae hanni <3

WARNINGS — use of petnames (bae/babe)

— the person who you could just be honest with and talk about everything and ANYTHING. like we’ve seen her on that debate episode, bae was PREPARED! so i think she’d be also that talkative with you!

— i would say she’s touchy? like she loves physical touch, it’s one of her love languages. so when she’s by you, be shocked if she doesn’t start cuddling you or resting a body part on you LMAO 😭😭😭

— seems like someone who would do playful childish teasing. LIKE sticking tongue out or be like “ooouuuu” YKWIM? she does it for the fun of it and wanting a reaction. she’d be more than glad if you joined her <3

— forget about petnames, she’s gonna call you bro and dude all the time LMFAOOO. it’s a habit of hers and probably a habit of yours too, let’s be honest so it’s hard to stop! but if she does use one, it would probably be bae / babe bc she likes how it sounds

— idk…she seems the type to get jealous easily ? like she’d get real pouty or be overdramatic js for you to get the hint. she’d pretend to act cold after you notice but then just give in under your touch

— would make you do weird things w/ her LMFAO. like who wouldn’t want to ding dong ditch someone’s hotel room? hanni hanni hanni….

— would def hype you up! like she’d instantly scream and shout be like “ayyy, that’s my bae!”. just makes you feel so confident about yourself </3

— the type to just like tackle you HELP. like oh you’re laying down? she’s already preparing to jump on top of you.

— despite being pretty playful, i think she would be understanding. like she’s willing to hear you out and would change anything that you don’t like or whatnot.

— whenever she sees you sad, she instantly goes and check up on you. 😧 THIS EMOJI IS HER. and she would be like “what’s wrong?” as she rubs on your back.

— when one of you is stressed/sad (or both), she’d suggest taking a walk outside just to clear up your/her mind a bit. a bonus if it’s at night, since she loves taking walks at night.

— would probably try to make you laugh but end up laughing at herself before she could. but that doesn’t matter, since her laugh is contagious, it ends up with you laughing as well.

— probably loves matching stuff! i think she’d get really excited with matching necklaces, and even matching wallpapers!

— she’s just really comforting to be around, and you’ll never be bored when she’s around!

— forces you to watch movies with her. like she would get all excited when she finds a new movie to watch with you. so when she’s all giddy, who are you to refuse?? movie nights/dates are definitely your thing w/ her!

— likes taking silly pics and vids 😭 and whenever you tell her to delete it off your phone, she just goes “but you’re so cute here!” which explains why she has a whole album of you and her…(you also get a separate album of js you on her phone <3)

💭 — cool with you is literally stuck in my head

NWJNS PERM TAGLIST — @miumiuangel222

[sandmark]

get to know juno better!

what's your phone wallpaper? on my phone, it's a picture of my husband and son. on my ipad, it's birth of venus by botticelli, but with hello kitty as aphrodite. last song you listened to? 360 by charli xcx. i'm obsessed with her new album, it's just too good. also, having rachel sennott in the 360 mv helps LOL. currently reading? venus & aphrodite: a biography of desire by bethany hughes. last movie? minions for the billionth time. what are you wearing right now? my university sweatshirt and baggy jeans. i have an apple watch and evil eye bracelet on my right wrist, and my hair is up in a clip rn. i was gonna wear my medusa necklace, but i chose not to. how tall are you? 5'3.9. i was told i was 5'4 my whole childhood, and now in my adulthood, i was told they were rounding up so i'm actually 5'3.9. piercings / tattoos? okay so. i used to have my nose double pierced, my helix on both ears pierced, my conch pierced on my left ear, my belly button pierced, and my septum pierced. not all at once, but i've gone through quite a bit of piercings lol. currently, i have my earlobes double pierced. i want to get piercings redone bc i took them all out when i got pregnant. i don't have tattoos, but i want some sooooooo bad. glasses / contacts? i've worn glasses since high school. i've thought about getting contacts, but i had a friend who wore contacts and one of them rolled up and got caught between his eyeball and eyelid so :D i remember that whenever i consider contacts. last thing you ate? cinnamon raisin bagel with plain cream cheese and two cups of coffee lmfao. fav color? ugh i don't really have a color i dislike. it depends on my mood honestly. my husband hates when i do this, but i always say like "i'm in a purple mood" or "i'm in a pink mood" lmao. right now, i'm in a green mood, but not like a general green more like a sage green or forest green. i tend to gravitate towards neutrals when it comes to my appearance, i'm not an over the top person even tho i love love love those kinds of looks, but on my person, i stick with simple, neutral colors. current obsession? i've been playing animal crossing: new horizons on and off for the past year or so, but i've picked it back up and i am determined to get 100%. i recently achieved 5 stars on my island and i was really excited about that. do you have a crush right now? like celebrities? rachel sennott, zendaya, tom holland, victoria monet, megan thee stallion, ayo edebiri. in real life? just my husband lol. fav fictional character? obvs cassie sandsmark. the wonderfam in general, i love women. i'm actually a HUGE batfam girl, like dick grayson was my first robin and he's still my fave, but i love the other batboys too. i can discuss bruce's psyche and characterization for hours. i love peter parker/spider-man, too. he was my first marvel character and holds a special place in my heart. iron man is a fave too. but those are really the only male characters i like? i grew up watching them, so that's why. in general, i prefer female characters and sources of media that female-centered. last place you traveled? i dropped my son off at daycare </3 i miss him already.

tagged by: i stole this from @maidmyth. tagging: you :)

[surreal-duck]

I love Beat’s design to death

[heffrondriving]

heyyy babes hru!! dale pa' ya themed kenlos blog and new colour scheme for september be upon ye~ 💜 ☜( ￣ᴥ￣ )

[shotorozu]

what picture/video do they look at when they miss you

PART TWO

character(s): bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku (bnha)

this is in celebration of my birthday 🤩‼️ (bc it’s tomorrow— april 5, which is why it’s shorter than usual. this ain’t the last of it though)

based off this tiktok

LEGEND: [Y/N = YOUR NAME] you/your pronouns, quirk’s not mentioned

note(s): to not be confused with “what’s their wallpaper’s like while they’re dating you” because that’s completely different 💀 i headcanon that they all look at a different picture when they miss you (also, i’ll be posting more stuff later, and essentially— i’ll be content spamming because y’know.. it’s my birthday 🤩‼️) there’s no proofread so warning whoops.

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

a picture of your face in his hand.

-> some people might say that he’d just look at his home screen— which was set as a picture of you choking on some spices (see my 2k followers milestone part two post for reference) but when he misses you, he looks at a completely different picture. like yes, he can look at his wallpaper whenever he misses you. katsuki did do that at first, but seeing that legendary picture of his beloved s/o choking on spices isn’t enough to fulfill his longing for you, really. he needs to see a much more sappy, romantic, and aesthetically pleasing picture to content him— until he gets to see you in person again.

“do you have a picture you look at when you miss me?”

the blond gives you a side eye, contemplating if he should admit something like this. with a roll of his eyes, he admits. “‘course i do. what kind of boyfriend doesn’t have one? a shitty one, that’s for sure.”

“yeah but— what picture is it?”

-> that said picture is a picture of your face in his palms— his palms. and of course, he’d never actually tell you, or present the evidence in front of your very eyes— so you’ll have to try and wring it out of him a few times to really find out about the picture. for a few seconds, you think he’s just kidding with you— because you practically begged for him to capture a picture like that, so he’ll have a picture to look at when he misses you. but, when remembered how kaminari told you about the softness behind katsuki’s usually harsh exterior— when he caught him staring at the picture, you knew that katsuki’s actually making use of the picture, after all this time.

“i knew that picture would be useful!”

“it wasn’t so bad.” he remarks, the apples of his cheeks now red, “now c’mere and stop lookin’ at it!”

todoroki shouto

a picture of you bundled comfortably under his hoodie. while he wears said hoodie

-> another person that also looks like he’d just look at his wallpaper (which is a picture of you from your first date with him) but nope. i bet you don’t even know this picture of you under his hoodie exists, because you were too busy just snuggling your head into his chest— without a single care for the world, but it does indeed exists. similarly to bakugou, shouto could just stare at his wallpaper whenever he longed for your presence, but there are times where he misses you a little too much, so he’ll have to resort to looking at new pictures, and this picture in particular has helped a lot.

“what picture do you look at when you miss me?”

the chopsticks in shouto’s mouth practically freeze in place, and you think you have him stuck in place— due to a difficult question. you weren’t really sure, until you saw him reach for his phone underneath the chabudai.

“this one,” he says, as he shows you the picture in question.

-> the picture helps a lot during his time of longing, as he could remember how it was like to have you so close to him, under his hoodie, and pressed against his chest in full detail. shouto practically remembers it like yesterday, and it makes his heart skip a beat. it’s sweet, and the picture’s so sweet— it simply never gets old, but it also makes him want to see you in person even more.

“wait— when did you take that? i mean, i remember it happening but— oh my, it’s so cute! how do i not know of its existence?”

“when you were,,, occupied.” he simply says, with the tips of his ears visibly red.

midoriya izuku

a video that a classmate closely captured of you admiring staring at him.

-> unlike two thirds of the main trio, izuku actually looks at other pictures of you on a regular basis. before he goes to sleep, when he wakes up, in between training breaks— i do mean it when i say ‘regular basis’ and like i said, he practically changed his wallpaper every time you guys went outside for a date— at least until he discovered the wonders of picture collaging. new pictures of you used to do the trick (and they still do) but after being sent a very recent video— which had you in it, he made a quick decision on the spot.

“do you have a picture you look at when you miss me, izuku?”

upon registering your question, his cheeks go red with a very classic izuku blush, “uh—” he stammers, “it’s not a picture but a.. video.”

before you could ask any more questions, he digs around his pocket for his phone, and fumbles with his phone a little bit— before showing you the video.

-> in truth, izuku doesn’t know how the video even exists— not in a bad way, obviously. but he just didn’t know that he could see video evidence of how you stare at him. you’re looking at him like that— you’re giving him that look. not anybody else, but him. it’s still a shocker. he thought looking at the video would help him satisfy his longing temporarily— but like todoroki, viewing the piece of media only makes him miss you more.

“wait— i can’t believe there’s video evidence of me staring at you.. like that.” you say, sheepish about being caught on camera. truthfully, izuku can’t believe it either— but there’s video evidence of it.

“but at least you won’t have any doubts of me being head over heels for you.” you say, with a cheeky little wink.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and its characters, boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, and i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby.

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings, and without permission :))

[foreverxdaydreaming]

new wallpaper theme! ♡

vs my old decked out persona 5 theme heheh (just couldn't part with the pretty icons tbh,,)

[suguruverse]

— HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN YOU’RE CRUSHING ON AN ANIME CHARACTER

includes - bokuto koutaro, iwaizumi hajime and oikawa tooru

a/n - hi this is just me projecting onto my fav boys AHAKDNS anyways pls enjoy bbys <33 also this is pretty suggestive content so if that makes you uncomfy pls don’t read

find pt.2 here!!

↳ BOKUTO KOUTARO bakugou from bnha

- you guys love cuddling while watching anime but when he noticed your new found love for bakugou he hated it

- poor baby just wants all your attention to be on him and not some 2d character

- he just wants to be the perfect man for you so if you show interest in another man then he wonders what he can change about himself so you will like him more

- yes he’s in desperate need of love, reassurance and validation from you so please give it to him

- the way you would squeal and fangirl every time bakugou showed up on screen just made him more pouty

- starts wearing more black tank tops like bakugou so he can prove to you that he looks way better than him and has bigger muscles too

- he would intentionally try to be more like bakugou so you can squeal over him too

- thinks that you like bad boys so he tries so hard to be mean to you

- but he physically cannot bring himself to ever be rude to you so he gives you a million hugs and kisses as an apology for the fact that he even thought about being disrespectful to you

- you were very confused

- one day you were sitting in the couch for such a long time watching bnha but no matter what bokuto did to get your attention, you wouldn’t give it to him

- so desperate times call for desperate measures

- he got up from your lap where he was laying and went to his room

- when he walked out, he was only wearing boxers hoping you would notice and fawn over him like you usually do

- but you don’t

“BABYBABYBABY LOOK AT ME PLS. LOVE ME”

- it isn’t until he walks in front of you, with a large dick print evident in his boxers that you realise that you’ve been neglecting your poor boyfriend

“what’s wrong pretty boy?”

“want your attention but you seem pretty busy with your new boyfriend bakugou. now come come come”

“go where baby?”

“to the bedroom. gonna make you forget about your little puppy crush okay princess?”

- mhm mhm yk what happens um anyways next person

↳ IWAIZUMI HAJIME nanami from jjk

- home boy was pissed

- he honestly thinks nanami looks ugly and old af

- but we don’t accept nanami slander in this house

- the way you defended nanami made him even more pissed off

things that he says every time you mention nanami:

“but he doesn’t even exist”

“he could never love you the way i do”

“he looks like he could be your dad”

“mr. skinny penis”

“you know you’re mine right?”

“i could probably bet him in a fight”

- no baby you couldn’t but ur cute for trying

- yes iwa is definitely slightly possessive of you but he never lets it go too far

- so when you start swooning over a man that does not exist?? good luck baby you’re gonna need it

- is secretly insecure bc like how much of a shitty boyfriend does he have to be for you to like a fictional character

- but you assure him that it’s not like that and that it’s merely physical attraction

- ??? mf does not believe you bc nanami is ur wallpaper of your phone and laptop and have a poster of him on your wall

- he has caught you fangirling over nanami one too many times and he’s sick of it

“okay doll, i see how it is, you wanna play that game huh? don’t forget who’s the one who can actually make you feel good okay sweetheart? now follow me before you regret it”

- you didn’t regret a single thing that happened that night <3

↳ OIKAWA TOORU mirio from bnha

- pls i love mirio so much ugh ksnskxdn anyways

- such a pouty baby

- will literally try to turn off the tv whenever he’s on the screen

- will also try to makeout with you whenever he’s on screen so he knows your attention is on him

- lets be honestly oikawa is the biggest attention whore when it’s comes to his s/o

- your little crush on mirio is bringing out both his inferiority and superiority complex’s out

- so do everyone a favour a boost his ego a little bit before he punches another child in the face (was that uncalled for?)

oikawas brain:

“pfft he’s literally just a bunch of pixels, he couldn’t compete with me”

“she probably only likes him for his muscles”

“would they love me more if i had muscles like him”

“it’s doesn’t matter, he couldn’t hug and kiss them like i do”

“fuck mirio, who does he think he is, tryna steal my s/o”

“god i wanna punch his face”

- and when he realised that mirio is your wallpaper, good luck girly

“my love, what’s this?”

“oh it’s mirio yk fro-“

“ i know who he is but why is he your wallpaper”

“it looked nice”

“don’t you think that i look nice”

“yes tooru i think that you’re incredibly handsome”

“so why is he-“

“listen, can we talk about this later, i’m busy right now”

“ah ah ah my dear. if you think you’re gonna get away with making me jealous, you are highly mistaken princess. after all, he isn’t the one fucking you to sleep every night is he? that’s what i thought. now come with me”

- yikes yeah good like surviving that one

- it’s your fault for getting such a horny and petty bf

[sloaaaa]

SPLATOON 3 DIRECT my thoughts n stuff :]

ok so obviously spoilers kjdfhgkjd i have Many Thoughts so i am gonna put everything under a readmore!

i am so eXCITED to walk around splatsvilllee!!!!!!!!! it's so much bigger n feels more Lived In!!!

n i'm guessing the music playing in the first part of the video is what's gonna play in thee tutorial? w how the music builds up and everythingg and it's of the main songg n stuuff just like how it is in the first two games!

i Need this emote

the new ink refill sprite thingy is super neat!!! a lil on the fence abt how it loooks but! i like that it shows that u get ink faster when swimming in ink!!

tHE STAGESSSS ARE SO COOOOOOLL i especially lOVE that including hammerhead bridge gives us an explanation as to hOW exactly we're transported to and from splat1 and splat2 stages -w- also it's so cool to see it finished!!! i haven't played splat1 nearly as much as splat2 but i'm happy that that stage is coming back -w- aND FLOUDER HEIGHTS IN THE UPDATE TOO also i lOVE the detail of the NILS statue being in the bg but u can't see it in the eng ver of the direct bc of the name covering it but u can see it in the japanese direct dhkdjfgs

mahi-mahi is nice too!!!!! i really liked that stage in splat1 :D and it looks so much better skjhdfgd and i am also wondering abt tHIS badboy history museum lookin stage in the updates >:3c

hello i Love the new flat clipart look of the weapons in the ui???? shown a lot better heree, i really hope that they make weapon wallpapers in splatnet 3 >:] it would also be nice if they added other ways to get wallpapers other than lifetime inkage :c

honestly idk how i feel abt the splatanas but i'm happy for the more melee leaning players out there -w-

the tacticooler is so cool ;;; i love the lil jingle it plays when you deploy it n when you take a cann ;; also the bit showing it off has some new voice clips for the players!!! which is super cute -w-

i lOVE the design of the wave breaker ;; it's that lil ball string cheap toy thing i think, plus i think the concept is super cool tooo!!! very fun special -w-

the reef slider looks cool!! not my kind of special thoughh, it's like a cross between a baller and a curling bomb hskjdfg

I AM SO HAPPY THEY'RE BRINGING THE TENTA MISSILES BACKKK AHHAHHAHAHHAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

i actually really love the new weapon currency?? it's super clever n i love that you can get weapons early!! dualie squelchers my beloved skjhdfgd n by how the freshness stars look and work i don't think that the freshness goes down when you lose a bunch now like how they did in splat 2! :0 which is really nice -w- when checking the splat website for extra details it looks like there are different kinds of liscences too! :0 bc having splatoon 2 save data grants you 3 gold sheldon liscences so that should meann that the ones on the screen rn are silverr? maybe tin n then there's bronze n silver? idk???

the music that plays in sheldon's shop is really nice ;-;

the new shopkeepers are pretty neat too -w- i don't have very many thoughts abt them :c except for mr coco he sounds so silly i love him dskjhdfg

also mURCH????????????????????????????????????????????????

and you can change the primary ability now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! which is pretty neat! i was wondering why the splatnet3 shop offered exclusive clothing now kjshdd i also really like that they did that! gives players a lil more incentive to use the app but still not make it essential to the game n stuff yknow -w-

the new freshest fits thing is really nice!! esp for people without amiibos dskjhdfg i'm glad they added that -w-

tHE NEW LOBBY UI IS SO COOL BUt also has me wondering a lil w how similar it looks to the oe ui. that coulped w the sea cucumber phones makes me hOPE that we get to see deep sea citizens around! or at least iso padre n cq maybe 🥺

they show which team is in the lead!!!!!!! i fucking love that ty it takes less brainpower now <33

and rainmaker has checkpoints now!!! which is super nice so now the rainmaker doesn't always spawn back in the middle and you don't have to do that jump off the map to bring it back thing anymore bc the checkpoints are closer to your base now so yEAH that's super nice!!!

it looks like the merged all the ranks together again :0

I'M SO HAPPY YOU CAN PRACTICE N DO STUFF OTHER THAN MIX MUSIC WHILE WAITING FOR BATTLES TO START

all the lobby updates are so nice and there's so much content i want to kiss nintendo on the mouth

it's really nice that they moved the new snack bar! now i don't have to leave lobbies n walk all the way back when my ticket runs out dkjfghs

i want to know what tHIS DOES ..collectibles? 🥺

tHEY'RE THE APARTMENTS THAT WE'VE ALL BEEN WANTING!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU NINTENDOOOO also the splatoon equivalent of furbys n long furbys kdjfhgkdj

eeEEEE PARUKOO!!!!!!!!!!! the shop music here is so cozyyyy ;;;;;; also oh my gOD i'm so happy that there's more shit to spend our coiNS ONNN AAUHGUGHUGAA n seeing that there are gatcha machines in this shop too maybe the lil gacha thingy in the lobby gives you other stuff to put in you locker too? maybe some tickets n stuff thrown in the mix?

i love the splashtags and the emotes so mUCh ough i love how much customization we're gettinnggGG even in grizzco!! u can change your uniform which i think i super awesome! (that wasn't shown in the direct but rather it was said in the splat website linked earlier skjhdfg) and it's great that they're adding another way to get tickets oughh

idk abt y'all but i LOVE the table turf battle!!! it's a lil cheesy but it's nice that there's this local thing to do in splatsville!! i kinda want a deck irl skdjfhgd and being able to play against locals!! it makes everyone feel so much more! alive!! and not just npcs glued to their store!!! also the card art is sO CUTE IDC IF Y'ALL THINK IT'S OFF BRAND OR WHATEVER I AM PLAYIGN THAT GAME AS SOON AS I GET THE DEMO (if u can even play it dskjhdg)

also hello i lOVE this lil alley there the card stuff is held

onto salmon run!! i lOVE the new boss salmonids! it's really nice how they kinda help players practice n learn abt ranked modes n specials!! this is true for the original boss salmonids too! the fry stick for tower controlll n the dolphin for splatzoness, the bigshot for the new wave breaker special and! idk abt the slammin lid but that name is super clever hdfkjghd i love the new music!!! :D

also you can use the big shot's thingy to shoot golden eggs???? i love you??

tHIS XTRA WAVE THING SCARED ME SO BAD ;;;;;;;;;;;; but also that's so cool?? i wonder what happens when you get to defeat it >:3c

ok i reached the image limit lemme make a new post

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi y’all<3 here’s a new section of the gallavich as seen from alternate POVs fic, this time featuring lip!!!! (i wanted to wait til after the ✨lickey drama✨ in the new ep before posting, but then i decided against it bc i didn’t want to re-write this lol)

i started to have way too many feelings while writing this so it’s a little lengthy and contemplative, but rest assured it features some domestic fluff/ian and mickey being disgustingly in love- i hope u enjoy<3

--

Lip shuffled into the kitchen of the Gallagher house, opening the fridge door and reaching past the clanging beer bottles to grab a metal soda can on the way back of the shelf, hearing a faint fizz escape as he popped the tab. It was late, the moonlight streaming in across the kitchen through the worn curtains and pooling on the kitchen floor— after Tami had crashed in their bed at the apartment after a long day at work and Freddie was sleeping soundly in his crib, Lip had come by the Gallagher house, without really knowing why. He just needed to clear his head, to get some distance from Tami and all her relentless nagging about moving and apartment hunting and his colossally obvious fuck-up with the bikes— he just needed some space, some less stifling air to breathe outside of their half-packed apartment crammed with boxes lining the walls.

It was funny; no matter how much energy Lip had poured into he and Tami’s first apartment, into painting the walls and agonizing over their kitchen backsplash like it was his first-born son, whenever Lip thought about home, whenever he felt that pit of uneasiness growing in his stomach and he just needed a place where he could lie back on a couch and loosen the knots in his shoulders and breathe in familiar air that would fill him up, instead of the too-clean smell of Tami’s flowery potpourri that she’d placed on the expensive coffee table in their living room— Lip always found his feet leading him across the slabs of sidewalk and past the chain link fences towards the Gallagher house, no matter the time of night. He had only been in the house for a few minutes before he felt the tight-knit something in his chest begin to unfurl— he didn’t even want to start to think about what was lodged there. This had been a crazy fucking couple of months, and he wasn’t going to start getting sappy about selling the house now, not when they were so close. He’d dug a hole too deep this time, and he needed the money. He couldn’t fuck up again— not with Freddie to take care of. No matter what it cost him.

So that’s how Lip ended up sitting at the Gallagher kitchen table at 2 a.m. on a Thursday night, sipping at an overly-sugary pop that was no substitute for what he really wanted to be drinking right now—he could imagine how it would warm the insides of his stomach, how it would cushion whatever weird fucking ache was in his chest right now. But— no. Fuck no. He wasn’t going to do that now. Everything about selling the house, about moving on, was about getting his shit straight— about leaving the bad parts of this sagging roof and these stained floorboards behind him.

Lip slouched in the wooden kitchen chair, scrolling on his phone and finally letting out a breath he didn’t really know he had been holding in all day, when he heard a creaking of footsteps padding at the top of the stairs— too heavy to be Liam or Debbie, too careful and unfumbling to be Frank dragging himself through the house. Lip flickered a glance up from where he was sitting and met Ian’s eyes as he turned the corner of the stairs, his skin looking translucent and overly pale in the moonlight like the ginger motherfucker he was.

Ian nodded his head towards Lip in acknowledgement, like he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that his older brother with a whole ass family and apartment of his own was decidedly squatting in the kitchen of his childhood home, drinking a pathetic-looking can of Dr. Pepper. Ian slid open the fridge door, grabbing a beer and swiftly popping the cap off by knocking the bottle on the side of the counter—and then in an instant it became one of those quiet, familiar nights when it was just Lip and Ian in the kitchen, sometimes letting easy conversations flow between them, but other times, just like this— just sinking into each other’s presence in the silence. Ian’s shadow mingling with the moonlight on the kitchen floor immediately snapped the atmosphere from lonely and self-pitying and stale to something lighter, something familiar—like the worn, buttery leather of a baseball glove that fits just right.

Instantly Lip was brought back to so many nights before this, of he and Ian orbiting each other in the kitchen at night— when they were kids and would creep down the stairs and eat fistfuls of junk food that Fiona had forbidden, or steal warm sips of the open beers Frank had left on the counter. This was where they’d processed Monica’s return, late at night while they passed a cigarette between them and Ian hadn’t tried to hide the tears that were freely rolling down his freckled cheeks, back when they were both just confused kids who clung to each other— this was where they’d processed Frank’s alcoholic meltdowns, too many to count, and all the love and loss and confusion that had passed between these walls, all the collateral damage of living in this fucking neighborhood. And Lip felt a sudden pang in his gut, sharp and present, when he realized that it might be one of the last nights that he and Ian got to spend in the kitchen like this.

Lip immediately shoved the thought down with all his might, a hydraulic press squeezing out any sentimentality. He had to do this— for Freddie, for Tami. He had to man up and move on, even if it meant physically wounding the crumbling walls to ease the pain of the parallel jagged wounds somewhere deep in his chest, or screaming and shouting until veins popped in his neck, so loud that he knew he was radiating his pain outwards like a fucking atomic bomb.

But tonight, Lip had no more fight left to give. He just wanted to let these four walls hold him one last time, without even realizing that was what he had needed until this moment. Ian slid a chair out from the kitchen table and sat beside him, leaning back and dragging out a slow, sleepy breath.

Lip cleared his throat, softly. “Where’s Mick?”

“Passed out upstairs.” Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Lip raised his eyebrow, almost involuntarily, and Ian immediately jutted his chin up in a half-nod, an affirmation, as he leaned back even farther and took the first sip of his beer. No, he wasn’t manic and yes, he was fine. After all the years that had passed since Ian was still figuring this shit out, Lip sometimes forgot that checking in on him wasn’t really his job, not anymore.

Lip took another sip from his soda can, a movement to fill the easy silence. “How was your guys’ night?”

Ian shrugged non-committally, his shoulders still slumped back in the chair, his lips puckered around the mouth of the bottle as he stared off into the distance at the peeling kitchen wallpaper. “Eh. It was fine. I dragged Mickey out to try and make more gay friends. Ended up being a mistake.”

Lip held back a laugh, taking a sip from his own drink to mask his smirk. He had ample auditory evidence that Mickey was plenty as gay as Ian, but it was still hard to imagine Mickey leaning into all of this shit— Ian used to wear golden underwear and frequent gay clubs and go to social justice brunches, but none of that really seemed like it was Mickey’s scene.

“Oh yeah? Mickey not the easiest person to befriend?” Lip said it with his eyebrows raised, like the joke was obvious.

Ian looked up at him, like he’d been snapped out of a sleepy train of thought, staring earnestly like Lip’s jab had flown right over his head. “Actually, it was kind of my fault. I was the one who made us leave this dinner party thing we got invited to. They were all talking shit about the Southside, about how they hated their families, and I couldn’t really… connect with them, I guess.”

Lip pondered that, taking a breath and stretching his arms above his head. God, he was sore— he hadn’t even been fucking working, aside from hauling those bikes from place to place to avoid the cops, but all the pent up stress and tension was starting to linger in his bones.

“Yeah, it was the same for me. In college, or whatever. Joaquin was the only person I really talked to, because he got all the shit I was always going through.”

Ian nodded contemplatively—but he was staring off into space again, almost like he was half asleep. Lip took another sip of his soda. He could bring up the house shit again right now—it was all that they’d been talking about for the past few weeks—but for some reason it felt too raw, too intense to bring up right now, like it would cut through this peaceful moment, this island in the vast sea of uncertainty Lip knew he was bringing down on all of their heads. So in this moment, he opted for smoother waters.

“Why’d you guys go looking for new friends, anyways?”

Ian finally broke out of whatever drowsy, pensive trance he’d been in, his lips sloping into a smile. “Mickey kept giving me shit for always doing what you do, after breakfast today. I figured… I don’t know, I just got all pissy and tried to prove him wrong.”

Lip felt the corner of his mouth tick upward at that. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

Ian grinned, and held out his beer bottle, stretching his arm across the table. Lip tapped it with his soda can with a light “Cheers,” then took the final sip. He crushed the can to a disk on the table, pressing it down firmly with the heel of his palm and watching the sides compress. Ian’s eyes were cast downward at the table, watching his movements.

“How’s stuff with you and Tami going, all the packing and shit?”

Lip turned the flattened can on its side, contemplatively spinning it like a top on the table and fidgeting with it between his fingers.

“Honestly? I’m fucking exhausted.”

He could hear the breathiness as he said it, how deflated his own voice sounded. And Lip knew could make himself say more— he knew if anyone would get it, Ian would.

“It’s just… fuck, man.”

He looked up and Ian was staring directly at him now, his expression unguarded— listening. Listening like he always did in these moments. Lip let out a low chuckle, trying to shield his own vulnerability.

“How’d we get so fucking old? How is this… it, y’know? Finally leaving the fucking nest, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, placing his beer on the table. “I think you already left the nest when you had a baby and moved into an apartment with your girlfriend.”

Lip shrugged, fiddling with the crushed can again between his fingertips. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

“And you are the one making us do this, for the record.”

If Ian’s tone wasn’t as playful or as tentative as it was, Lip would have worried that he was upset— but judging by Ian’s still-comfortable slouch and his steady expression, Lip knew he was fine— he was weathering the storm, just like Lip was.

Ian leaned forward.

“Hey. Mickey was giving me shit—but it is true. You’re my best friend, even though you can be a fucking asshole sometimes.” Ian’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Ian’s eyes flickered around the kitchen as he spoke, and Lip heard everything that was unsaid. Even though you’re kicking us out of the house. Even though you’re changing everything. Even though there isn’t a focal point to our lives anymore.

You’re my best friend.

And Lip felt that pang in his gut again, sharp like a dagger.

**

He’d said it before, and he’d had no problem saying it over and over again in Mickey’s absence, up until the months before the wedding— Ian did always go a little bit “loco” when Mickey was around.

Which, fuck him, I guess, for caring about his little brother with an undiagnosed mental illness who was off living in the Milkovich House of Horrors slash meth lab with Mickey fucking Milkovich, the bully with greasy hair who Lip wrote papers for in high school and who now was a literal, actual, godforsaken pimp. Lip had seen a teenage Ian bruised and drunk and curled into himself crying over Mickey too many times to ever think that this shit was a good idea— and years later, when Ian almost threw away everything, almost threw away stability and sanity and his fucking family to follow Mickey Milkovich across the Mexican border, Lip knew he had to say something, even though it was an unspoken rule that he and Ian didn’t really critique each other’s love lives since the Mandy-and-Karen fiascos of years past.

So he’d said it, that day in the kitchen, after Ian had returned on a Greyhound bus and they were still processing the dull pain of Monica’s loss— and Ian had taken the feedback with a closed-lip smile, like his head was somewhere else, as he picked at the corner of the beer bottle label with his thumb.

And then less than a year later Mickey was released anyways, and ended up standing in a tank top and boxers in the middle of the Gallagher living room, when the house was crawling with strangers and Freddie was barely two weeks old— and Lip had taken in a sharp breath, a bundle of hesitant nerves sprouting for whatever the fuck this situation was going to become; but not one that he could really give attention to, with all the other bullshit that was pulling at his focus, like the desperate screeching of his newborn kid and the mascara running down Tami’s face.

Later that night, when he’d had a spare moment to breathe and Tami was finally calmed down and sleeping in their cramped bedroom, he’d run into Ian in the moonlit hallway as he was stumbling his way out of the bathroom, drowsily rubbing his eyes with his hair sticking up. And Lip had stopped him with a whisper, placing a hand to tap Ian’s shoulder as Ian blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey. So uh… I see Mickey’s out.”

He’d seen the defenses immediately raise in Ian’s eyes, like he knew what Lip was going to say next.

“Yeah.” Ian had said it soft, quietly, like he was afraid of someone waking.

You sure that’s a good idea? Lip could feel the words itching on the tip of his tongue, and he was aching to say them again, all these years later— and yes, maybe his head was so wrapped up in his own shit that he didn’t really have the authority to be doling out relationship advice to his little brother right now, but so much of this reminded him of things that had happened in the past, of Mickey Milkovich crashing on Ian’s bedroom floor until he inevitably couldn’t anymore, until the pressure cooker of his presence mingled with Ian’s inevitably exploded— or at least that was how Lip saw it. There were too many wounds, and they were bound to leave scars— Lip was honestly surprised as fuck that the Gallagher house was Mickey’s first stop out of prison, after everything that had gone down between the two of them.

But, for Ian’s sake, Lip tried to reign it in—despite the fact that they’d just been commiserating about “being in love with crazy people” as they crouched on the living room stairs the night before as Ian sipped on a beer, sputtering out a “fuck no” when Lip asked if he was going to marry Mickey (which was an equally as batshit question as if Lip was going to marry Tami). Despite all of this— now that Mickey was back, Lip could see that this was something Ian wanted, that this was something Ian was treading carefully into, one more time. He was definitely stronger now; even Lip could see that.

“He gonna be hanging around here a while?”

Ian had given a gentle, sleepy smile. “Yeah. Think so.”

And Lip had just reached out, and clapped Ian’s sleep-warmed body on the shoulder. “Sounds good, man.”

Ian had walked the remaining length of the hallway, opening the bedroom door— and in the shadows, Lip could see that Mickey was curled on the old, concave mattress of Ian’s single bed that he’d slept on since they were kids— and Ian had lifted the thin blanket and pressed up next to him, the mattress sinking beneath their collective weight, settling in and pressing a kiss to the top of a snoring Mickey’s head without a second thought. Huh.

That was the beginning of Lip starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, this time with Mickey would be different— and it was. As Mickey started to become a daily fixture in the Gallagher house, constantly pinned to Ian’s side, Lip had noticed how something solid had shifted—they weren’t reckless kids anymore, for starters. He hadn’t really seen Mick and Ian physically together since Ian was catapulting off the deep end, in the weeks after Ian had gotten dragged away by the P.I.s and Mickey had gotten locked up for some crazy fucking stunt trying to murder Sammy. Things were too intense then, too technicolor—for some reason, Lip thought Mickey being back meant that they’d return to being that way.

But now here was this guy, placing a gentle hand on Ian’s chest and saying “Woah, wait a minute” to protect Ian from the batshit P.O. that had just barged through the door—and Lip couldn’t help but realize that was something that he would have done to protect Ian, in a universe where Mickey was still behind bars.

After then, Lip just kept seeing it— the ways that Mickey showed up for Ian. Not even in the ways that he used to, like forcing Ian to take his meds back when everything was uncertain and Ian was slipping through their fingers like sand in a sieve; but in a more solid, adult way, in a way that made Ian buzz whenever he was around him, in a way that made Ian happier and lighter. And maybe it was just the sex—part of it had to be the fucking sex, considering how loud they always were— but Lip realized, after a couple of weeks of Mickey’s presence in the house before their whole eventual engagement fiasco, that Mickey was Ian’s friend, in addition to all the other things he was. After all the years of uncertainty, they’d finally grown the fuck up— Mickey was someone who brought out the best in Ian, and it was like Ian had been waiting for this moment, for Mickey by his side, before he could fully and totally bloom.

And it was weird how emotional that made Lip— after seeing Ian as a hollow shell in a jumpsuit pushing garbage cans around a college campus, or pretending to be someone he wasn’t who wore patterned button-up shirts and threw around fucking useless five-dollar words that Lip didn’t understand like “gender identity” and “intersectionality”— Ian had finally made it, beyond being the bruised, scrawny kid getting sexually abused by a creepy 30 year old man in the back room of a mini-mart, or getting high off his ass every night and starving himself to fit into a golden thong, or wearing a baggy janitor suit with dark circles under his eyes and pallid skin. Ian had done that shit on his own, and made himself into something in Mickey’s absence, sure— but so much of him being the full, happy person he was in this moment was because of Mickey, and Lip could see that now.

Ian was himself— he wasn’t a shadow anymore.

And that was why Lip had said he thought he should marry Mickey, in the end— because there was no doubt in his mind that Mickey Milkovich wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon.

Lip could still see it now, in the way that Ian was lounging comfortably in the living room, like he had his whole life— but now Mickey was resting just as comfortably beside him. It was a few weeks after that night in the kitchen, and Lip had just pitched the FOR SALE sign in the Gallagher front yard— now everyone was huddled in the living room, for what they now knew was one of their last lingering nights in this space. Liam was sitting next to Lip, pressed into his side, seeking the comfort that Lip knew he needed through all of these massive fucking changes— Franny was playing on the floor and Debbie was sitting beside her, and across the room Ian and Mickey were pressed side-by-side on the fraying loveseat, scrolling through the lease document for their new apartment on the battered laptop. They were murmuring things to each other that Lip couldn’t really make out— but Mickey was pressed against Ian, slouching into him slightly, and Ian’s eyes were light. In his flicker of a glance towards them, Lip noticed that Mickey was playing with Ian’s hand, swiping a finger over his wedding ring, as Ian scrolled through the paperwork and started to read all the contract information out loud— and Lip smiled to himself as he tried to tune out all the sappy bullshit that was going on in that corner of the room.

Ian was going to be just fine.

**

Hour later Lip strode out the door to the front porch, a cigarette he’d bummed off of Ian wrapped in his fist— he didn’t smoke anymore, especially not under the same roof as Tami, but there was something about the gravity of this night, of the flimsy red and white sign rooted in the front yard, that made Lip’s fingertips itch for a cigarette and made his brain buzz with the want of nicotine to dull the sharp edges of everything he was feeling—for smoke to float in front of his face while he sat on the front steps just one more time.  

He perched on the front steps as the sun was just starting to set, the fish-scale shadows of the chain link fence encroaching further and further into the yard as he flicked at his lighter.

He heard a light cough from somewhere in front of him— and saw that Mickey was outside too, blowing smoke out of his mouth and leaning against the fence in the front yard facing the house. Lip nodded at him in acknowledgement, then took the first drag. Fuck, he’d needed this.

“You gonna miss this place?”

 Mickey said it into the open air, like he isn’t really talking to Lip— his eyes were off in the distance, staring at the paint-chipped front façade of the house. Which was fucking bullshit—why would Mickey be staring absentmindedly, almost fucking wistfully, at the Gallagher house?

It’s not like he and Mickey didn’t talk— they definitely did, pragmatically flinging banter across the kitchen to each other at breakfast when coordinating rides for Liam or grocery list items when Debbie was off at work, existing in the same space every morning— and Mickey helped him haul literal tons of iron when he’d helped him steal the bikes, had haggled over his cut. But never like this—never with any weight, never in a way that was this casual, or this familial, about fucking feelings.

Part of that was probably because it was hard as fuck to worm your way into the Gallagher family—as wide open as their door always seemed to be, with people filtering in and out and crashing on hallway floors or the lumpy couch, this house only continued to function because of its nucleus— because of Lip and Ian and Carl and Debbie and Fiona and Liam and yes, even Frank. Everyone else was a passerby, an impermanent blip crossing through the way station; Jimmy-Steve, Sean, Carl’s slew of girls, Mandy and Karen.

Monica.

None of them were Gallaghers— none of them considered this place to be home, or got all the privileges that came with that. The Gallaghers, the real Gallaghers, had seen every one of these people come and go— and something slippery suddenly crept into Lip’s realization that despite all the odds, despite all of his doubts about him—Mickey had chosen to stay close to these four walls just as much as Lip had.

“Mickey’s family.” Ian had said it over a mouthful of bacon at breakfast a few weeks ago, and Lip had immediately shot him down; but maybe there was some truth to what Ian had said, some truth to the oddly unfailing consistency to Mickey’s ten years. Which meant that maybe…

Maybe it was time to make a fucking peace offering, or whatever.

Lip hummed in acknowledgement to Mickey’s question, pulling himself out of his train of thought.

“Hey. Mick.”

Mickey looked up at where Lip was leaning on the porch, his brows furrowing like he was bracing himself for a confrontation. “Yeah?”

“My head’s been too far up my ass the past couple of months to say it, but, uh. I’m glad you’re family, y’know?”

He’d been passively thinking it for months— but he’d never said it to Mickey, never this directly. He hoped Mickey got it, without brushing it off or shooting him down with some snarky fucking comment like he always did. Lip meant it— he was glad, he was grateful, he was ready to let Mickey Milkovich keep being a part of his fucked up familial life. And he hoped that Mickey saw that.

Mickey just rolled his eyes, taking another drag of his cigarette—but he didn’t say anything in reply, not for a moment. And then:

“You’re as sappy as your fucking brother, Phillip.”

[slasherbastard]

Stockholm Syndrome - Brahms Heelshire

(gif credit: boodalinski)

Request:  Thank you, so I was wondering if I could get one for Brahms. Where the reader (preferably a girl you can do gn, if you like!!) moves from the states to the u.k for a job. And she comes across Brahms home bc she got lost. And she steps inside and spends the night there and he like stalks her from the walls. And the next morning he like knocks her out and takes her hostage after she tries to leave, bc shes his new obsession. Maybe Stockholm syndrome if you’re comfortable with doing that. I’m not sure if you write smut or anything like that.

Warning: light smut Word count: 2639 Notes: okay okay so I redid the ending and added the smut, that’s the last time I try to write when sleep deprived

Brahms wasn't expecting guests that night but then you stumbled upon the manor. Ever since Greta left to who knows where Brahms had no one to look after him so he was left to look after himself. Now that he didn't have to worry about hiding away from any nannies he was free to roam the rooms of the house instead of just observing from the walls. It was nice for him, being able to eat warm meals whenever he pleased without having to worry about them being freezing out while he waited for the nanny to stray far enough from the kitchen that it'd be safe enough for him to leave the walls and steal the food like a rat.

It was getting late and Brahms couldn't sleep, the loneliness was eating him alive and he was starving because apparently 4 PB&J sandwiches weren't enough for him. Brahms hated to admit it but he missed Greta and needed her - no, he needed someone to just care for him and love him the way she could've. The next thing Brahms knew he was out of the walls and making yet another PB&J for himself, rubbing his tired eyes as he screwed the lid back onto the jar of jam.

That's when he heard the front door open and he froze. There was definitely time for Brahms to grab his sandwich to run back to one of the few entries into the walls but worry filled him as he abandoned the meal and found the hole in the parlour where a mirror once hung. Within a few seconds you walked past one of the slits in the wallpaper and Brahms held his breath as a stranger walked into the kitchen.

"Hello? I'm sorry to intrude but I'm lost and-" She stopped as she saw the freshly made sandwich sitting on the counter and spun around and Brahms watched her every move. He watched as this girl cautiously looked around before grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite out of it, Brahms expected himself to be angry. How dare a complete stranger just waltz into his home and eat his food? But for some reason he wasn't mad, in fact, something about the stranger fascinated him. "Whoever made this, this is a surprisingly good PB&J. Is this place haunted?" She muttered the last bit to herself and Brahms quietly chuckled behind his mask as she put away the items Brahms had left out and finished the sandwich before walking upstairs and continuing to talk to herself, blabbering about how she was giving herself 'horror movie' vibes.

She yawned as she reached the top of the stairs and peaked into the bedrooms still quietly calling out just in case somebody actually was home, and nobody was to her knowledge. Brahms followed her through the walls as she found one of the guest bedrooms and yawned again. The stranger dropped the bag she was holding onto the floor and crawled into the bed, tiredly talking to herself. "Alright, Y/N. Just go to sleep then leave as soon as you wake up." 'Y/N' what a beautiful name.

Brahms quietly chanted the name under his breath as he watched her fall onto the bed and snuggle into the small stream of blankets. He didn't have Greta anymore but that didn't matter because now he has you, Y/N.

--

You opened your eyes as the memories from last night came back to you. You'd caught a bus straight from the airport to what you were hoping was a cheap motel but instead you managed to miss your stop and got dropped off in the middle of nowhere. This would've been fine if it wasn't the last bus scheduled for the night and you weren't suffering from the effects of jetlag after leaving the states for a job you didn't even want in the first place, you tried calling a cab but your phone couldn't pick up a signal.

A lot of the night was a haze. Most of it was spent walking in the dark until you found a manor, then you decided that going inside would be a great idea, then you fell asleep in said manor, and now here you are awake in the manor. You grabbed your phone off the stand beside the bed and realised it was dead before taking it and sliding out of the bed. A sudden loud noise came from downstairs and really woke you up.

You'd been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realise someone was standing right next to the bed, until you looked over and saw the towering figure of a masked man. You tried to scream but before you knew it you were waking up again with a raging headache and your arms bound behind a wooden column. You tried to scan your surroundings but it was too dark to see anything, now this place was really giving you horror movie vibes and you weren't going to be the final girl after this.

The ropes around your wrists were starting to burn as you continued to struggle against them, biting your lip as the pain got stronger. You let out a frustrated groan and slammed your back into the column. "Hello!" You yelled out. Now you were 100% certain that somebody was home, what if they were watching? "I swear my damn arms are gonna fall off." You felt the ropes loosen as your arms moved a little more freely but you were still stuck.

"Don't." You stopped and looked up. The light flicked on and a familiar figure stood a few feet away from you just staring at your helpless position on the floor. "You'll hurt yourself." He got closer and you continued trying to free yourself from the ropes as he got on his knees and was only inches away from your face, you hadn't realised he was wearing a mask this entire time - of course, this was the first time you were able to get a proper look at his face. You felt the ropes slip and one of your arms was free but the man was too distracted to realise this as you freed your second arm and held the rope in place. He stroked your cheek and tilted his head slightly, his cold touch made you cringe and he pulled back for a second before continuing. You could hear him whispering something under that creepy mask. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N."

You almost didn't realise you had kicked him until he fell back, your delayed reaction wasn't enough to help you successfully escape as he was onto you the second you had stood up, pulling you back down as you screamed for help even though you knew nobody could hear you. He dragged you over to a small bed in the corner of the room and threw you onto it, you tried to get off but he was on top of you before you could make another move. Through that mask of his you could see his eyes, they looked desperate and hungry for something.

"Are you going to kill me?" His expression softened at those words but he gripped your arms tighter just in case you used this as a chance as to attempt another escape but instead you just watched him, expecting him to either wrap his hands around your neck or maybe stab you but he just watched you.

"Why would I hurt my pretty Y/N?"

You felt your heart stop and your chest ache at the same time. "Who are you?" You tried to wiggle free from his grip but he wasn't letting you go anywhere.

"Brahms."

--

You were supposed to be preparing lunch but you couldn't focus. You don't know how many days or weeks or even months have passed by now but somehow you were still alive. Brahms wasn't shy to show his obvious feelings towards you just hoping that maybe one day you'd return them, maybe you'd stop trying to run away if he showed you how loved you were by him. Brahms hasn't stopped trying to prove to you that you don't need anyone but him, especially considering that he was the only person you were going to be seeing for the rest of your life.

While Brahms wasn't afraid to show you that he loved you, you weren't afraid to show him how much you hated him - although, you weren't exactly sure why you acted that way. Sure, you were pissed that you ended up getting held hostage by a captor who wears a creepy mask the night you arrived in a new country but there was something about him that made you want to stay. In fact, you hadn't attempted another escape in what felt like forever. You didn't want to hate Brahms but there was a part of you forcing yourself to - maybe it was because you didn't want to admit that you had developed feelings for him.

You had no idea if Brahms noticed that your hatred for him was just a façade now. At night he'd cuddle up to you and you wouldn't try to fight him off like you used to, you also stopped ignoring him anytime he came into a room but that didn't mean you were getting friendly with him. Neither of you had gotten to that point in this unlikely 'friendship' where you felt like you could tell this man anything but you did wonder what would happen if you just told him. Sighing, you turned around and bumped into none other than Brahms.

Gasping, you quickly apologised and tried to run off somewhere but he grabbed your upper arm and held you in place. Looking up at him through the eyeholes of at mask you waited for him to tell you that he was hungry but instead he just looked at you. "What is it, Brahms?"

"Come with me." He didn't wait before he dragged you out of the kitchen and eventually you were both outside that loft when Brahms slammed your back into one of the walls. You groaned and cringed in pain before looking at up Brahms.

"What the hell was that-" Brahms threw a hand over your eyes and you froze when you felt hot breath on your neck. "Brahms?" You shook your head, trying to get Brahms to remove his hand from your face but it wouldn't budge as you suddenly felt his lips on your neck leaving light kisses heading up towards your jaw, sucking and biting on the areas. You bit your lip and tried not to react while also focusing on the sensation of his chapped yet soft lips against your skin. You felt your body moving on your own as you tried to get closer to Brahms needing a bit of friction to continue but he denied it and continued his little act before moving away for a brief moment then connecting his lips to yours. Taken aback, you hesitated trying to figure out whether you should kiss him back but before you knew it you'd lost control and your lips were moving in sync with his.

Brahms wanted to feel your body, to explore it, but he couldn't with one hand hiding himself you and the other clutching the mask. He wanted to drop it, shatter that porcelain thing into pieces just so you could see who he truly was without any restrictions. If you reacted badly then glue could fix the mask but nothing could fix what was your relationship.

Just as the two of you were getting into it Brahms broke away and you took that moment to catch your breath before Brahms removed his hand and you could see him readjusting that porcelain mask of his as you turned to run and find your way out of the walls but you stopped when you heard his voice. "Y/N I know you love me." You stopped and heard gentle movements behind you before Brahms appeared in front of you. "You do love me, right?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes at the realisation that he knew that you'd let your guard down ages ago, and you clearly didn't just kiss him for no reason. It was so damn obvious but you still wanted to say no. "Yes." dammit. Brahms looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else but you couldn't find the right words. Taking a breath and looking him dead in the eyes you finally spoke. "I. . .I-"

He got closer to you. "Tell me you love me, Y/N." Something within him seemed desperate as he tried to close in the small space between the two of you until your chests were almost connected. "Y/N?"

"I love you Brahms." You don't know exactly what you'd expected in that moment, maybe a hug? Did you expect him to cry? Whatever wholesome reaction you waited for from him never came. Instead, Brahms stuck a hand out for you and you took it without really thinking much of it as he slowly lead you into the loft. Although he was taking his time there was a sense of desperation circling him as he sat down longways on the bed and pulled you onto his lap and held onto you, his hands moving down to your lower back. This whole time his eyes were on you and your eyes were on him. "Brahms?"

"Mhmm?" He hummed, his hands now playing with the bottom of your shirt.

You leaned in close to Brahms' ear and whispered. "If we're going to do this, then I want to at least be able to see who's fucking me." You pulled away and planned to make eye contact with Brahms again but you barely got the chance before he switched the position.

"No." You felt your stomach churn as he said it, his voice had dropped as if he were pissed off but there was still a playful tinge behind it. Brahms wasted no time ripping your shirt off and bringing his masked face down to yours and kissing you through the mask. Suddenly he pulled away and reached over underneath his pillow and you threw your head back and watched as he pulled out a long piece of fabric. "Do you trust me?"

You were hesitant for a few seconds as Brahms messed around with the makeshift blindfold, still waiting for your reply. "Please, Y/N. I promise I'll make you feel good." He whined but you didn't need to be asked twice as you sat up and Brahms covered your eyes with the fabric and tied it off behind your head and pushed you back down onto the bed. You heard a light clank and tried to peak under the fabric to catch a glimpse of Brahms without that creepy mask on but all you saw was his head of dark curly hair as he began planting kisses, making his way down to your core.

Brahms woke up and immediately looked down at the girl in his arms and smiled under his mask and held back the urge to caress her face or move the hair away from her eyes, afraid he'd wake her. Y/N shifted her weight in her sleep and cuddled into Brahms' chest as he continued to hold onto her not daring to move. He wanted to laugh, cry tears of joy, because he really couldn't believe that he finally had the one thing he'd wanted ever since his own parents stopped treating him like their son, he finally had someone who loved him. "You're finally mine, Y/N."  He whispered and nuzzled his face into her hair.

[princess-of-inarizaki]

hello ! if ur requests are currently open, can i get headcanons / scenario of inarizakis manager having a celeb crush (like finn wolfhard, louis partridge ALSO if u can, can u please make the celeb crush louis patridge ? im kinda desperate for sum louis x reader scenarios lawl) and they let them simp for him cuz it's just a crush right ? right, what they don't know is that manager-chan has made some attempts for him (their celeb crush) to notice them and they have successfully made him notice them bc manager chan is such a charm, so what will be their reactions if they see manager chan holding hands with the celeb crush that they didn't worry ab ? thank u in advance if u do it ! but it's fine if ur requests aren't open,, i just didn't see any posts ab ur requests being closed hehe also sorry if i did this wrong 😭 this is my first time requesting sumthn 😭😭

Louis Patridge x Inarizaki manager

Oh my goshhh hi bb. I'm so glad I was your first :D (yes, initially, requests were closed, unfortunately) but this was literally such a good one, I couldn't resist writing it. (I'm in love with Louis Patridge too, bubs)

Also, just a tip (if you're gonna request on anon, make sure you follow me, or have my profile saved because tumblr doesn't give you a notification when I've answered you 🥺🥺)

🦋; Inarizaki manager (reader) x Louis Patridge (celeb crush) x Inarizaki vbc ,, triggers: none!!

“Guys. DID YOU WATCH ENOLA HOLMES?” your breathless face was red due to fact that you've ran a long way, obviously to tell them this.

Atsumu and Osamu nodded in unison, “Yea, that Millie Bobbi Brown chick acted prett' well”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Hated it. Only watched it for Superman, though.”

Kita shrugged, walked up to you, and shook his head as he smoothed your hair down (the stray curls obviously came undone as you were running). “I don't watch fictious movies, y/n-san. Was it good?”

Eyes sparkling, you nodded. “It was more than good. Besides, that actor, Louis Patridge? The guy who plays Lord Tewkesbury? I think I'm in love with him.” a dream-like look glazed over your eyes as you stared at your phone wallpaper wistfully.

Suddenly, the bell rang, jolting you back to reality. “Oh that's right, I need to go to class now.”, and with that, you left six very stunned boys in the gym.

“I wonder what'll be of her crush on that' actor?” asked Atsumu with a smirk. Don't be fooled though, behind the easygoing exterior, he was the most concerned of the lot (and the most jealous).

“Yer' overthinking it. They live oceans apart, and he plays movies on the big screen.” drawled Osamu.

“Yeah, I'm sure one of us still has more chance with her than him, she's actually met us, after all.” chirped Akagi, with a positive note. He was determined to win you over, and a celeb crush didn't deter him in any way.

Suna nodded, whilst Kita and Aran exchanged looks. “It's important to be supportive of her though. Albeit it being merely a schoolgirl crush, this could mean a lot to her.” said Kita, and his tone invited no further disagreement.

Back at home that evening, thoughts of the handsome brown haired boy could not leave your mind, and you logged onto Instagram, hoping to see if he had posted any updates.

He had, and it was a selfie of himself, with his tousled hair in all its "I-just-got-out-of-bed" glory. Damn, this man was sexy.

Smiling, you typed out a comment. “No offense, but if being adorable was a crime, you'd have fine written all over you ˃ᴗ˂ ”. Yes, it was dorky, and cheesy all in one. But why not? He might not ever read it anyways, as your comment got swept underneath the hundreds of others that came after it.

Sighing, you settled down to study, with thoughts about the comment and Louis pushed out of your mind.

Meanwhile, as Louis scrolled through his comments, a single one caught his eye. She used a pickup line (how adorable) which caused his cheeks to redden. Tentatively, he surveyed her profile, before feeling the familiar sensation of having a crush, wash over him.

She was gorgeous, and although he knew he shouldn't stalk random pretty girls over the internet, he couldn't help himself. Her pictures showed her to be the manager of a club of some sort, and she was almost always posing with a teammate. A male, teammate.

But damn, that smile. Even if he felt a small pit of unfounded jealousy at the guys, her smile was enough to distract him from anything.

His fingers hovered over the "follow back" button, before he finally gave in to temptation by following her, commenting, and putting his phone away quickly, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy all over again.

That morning, before school, you could barely believe the notifications waiting for you on your phone.

"louispatridge_ is following you"

"louispatridge_ commented: nah, if anyone's fine, it's gotta be you ˃ᴗ˂ "

Of course, after having seven mini panic attacks, and fawning over him, you set out to tell your boys at the volleyball club the good news.

And all you could think about on the way there was how Louis Patridge somehow noticed you. It was unbelievable, and somehow turned your insides to jelly.

As soon as you reached the gym, you flung yourself on Atsumu, engulfing him in a hug. “Guys I'm so happy” you managed to choke out.

Atsumu obviously enjoyed holding you, and he gently wrapped his arms around you to feel your heart beating quickly

“To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you this early, y/n?” joked Aran.

Wordlessly, you dug into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “He thinks I'm fine. Fine means hot right? I mean, I used it meaning hot. Because he is hot. And he thinks the same of me, that's gotta be good? And the emoticon. He used the same one, he's so cu—”

But you were interrupted out of your whisper-babble by the boys' shocked faces. He noticed her? This fast? “I'm so happy for you, y/n” said Akagi cheerfully, but internally he was demotivated and sad at the prospect of you dating the young star.

Suna looked at you thoughtfully and ruffled your hair. “That's my girl. She's just as amazing and capable as those girls on the silver screen.” and although it pained him to say this, he just wanted to share your happiness.

The twins were withdrawn, and Kita congratulated you, whilst obviously feeling a bit regretful for dismissing it as a "schoolgirl crush".

In general, the boys were upset, but not surprised. If you had them all collectively whipped for you, why not a movie star?

After kissing Suna's cheek and waving the rest of the boys off, you skipped all the way to homeroom, excited to share the news with your friends.

Silence followed your absence as Aran shrugged. “So are we gonna acknowledge the elephant in the room?”

Atsumu pouted and glared at them all. “Why did he have to notice her? Was it her profile picture? I've always asked her to change it, she looks way too attractive.”

Osamu nodded and jutted his bottom lip. “I mean, we think she's the most beautiful girl in the world, and apparently other guys do too.”

“Oh God make it stop” whispered Suna. “I wish she'd just stay ours. I don't mind competing with you guys, I'm obviously better, but that actor dude? No chance.”

“We'll be supportive” reaffirmed Kita. “Above all, she's out friend and we do not own her. If this makes her happy, we won't ruin it.”. Akagi and Aran were quiet.

Ever since that day, you and Louis have been slowly but steadily growing closer and falling harder for each other.

He tried his luck by texting you, and although you were shy and tentative at first, getting to know the real him was refreshing.

And you really did like him. He was intelligent, adorable, and realistic. The two of you spent your time from dusk till' dawn talking, whether on call or on text.

And no one could deny the blossoming chemistry between yourself and Louis. He was a gentleman in every way, and his honeyed words stuck in your heart, finding its way to be replayed every time you felt down.

The boys slowly saw you drifting away. And when you weren't, it was always "Louis this—" or “Louis said—” and frankly their hearts couldn't take it anymore. It was time to give up, and love you as a friend instead.

But immersed in his attention you barely even noticed.

One day, Louis called you as you were heading home after practice. “y/n! Love, guess what?”

“aw bubs, just tell me. I hate guessing. Mostly because I suck at it.”

You could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line as he softly whispered “I'm coming to Japan on the ninth!”

“Wait, Louis. Today's the ninth.”

“I know. So are you gonna come to that bubble tea place you won't shut up about, or must I come get you?”

“You're joking”

“I'm not. I've wanted to surprise you, and I swear it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Which includes getting kicked by a horse on set, but nevermind about that, y/n, I want to see you, so get your arse here.”

“Coming, Lord Tewkesbury”

“I might have a kink.”

You blushed bright red at his words. “shut up oh my gosh, I'll be there.”

Louis ended the call with a small smile on his face. He knew how easily flustered you were with him and he loved it. It was just another thing on the list of all the reasons why Louis Patridge adored you to hell and back.

The whole way to the shop, your heart was pounding. So you'd finally get to meet the guy you've been dreaming about ever since you laid eyes on him in a movie.

Ever since those late night phone calls and early morning texts made your heart race and eyes sparkle with wonder.

You were finally meeting him.

The familiar sweet smell of the tea washed over you, and a familiar face waited for you at the entrance. His brown eyes looked gorgeous in the sun and his hair was tousled exactly the way you once saw in a selfie.

Wasting no time, you ran to him, pulling him to a hug. He laughed and caught you in his arms, holding you closer as your legs wrapped around his waist. No words were exchanged, just touches. There were too many words said already.

After pulling away, he gently stroked his thumb through your features. Tucking a strand aside, ruffling your hair. His hands ached to touch you, and now, finally, he could.

“You're such a dork.” was all you could whisper, afraid speaking loudly would break the spell.

“Your dork. All yours.”

“Louis!” your voice went an octave higher as the familiar warm sensation came over your cheeks, painting them a delicate pink.

“Oh God, I've always wanted to see you blush. How can you be so adorable?? Oh God.”

You whined in protest, but frankly, you were too happy to be around him to care much at all.

Tipping your chin to face him, Louis Patridge did the one thing he dreamt of doing, ever since he stalked through your Instagram profile one fateful morning.

He kissed you.

And wouldn't you know it? You kissed him back. It was warm, comforting, and everything you thought it'd be.

Meanwhile, the boys had finished cleaning up the gym, and started heading home.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go grab some bubble tea?” asked Aran. The prospect of food, or sweet things always cheered up the boys, and after a day of particularly grueling practice, it was no surprise they agreed at once.

You however, were comfortably nestled next to Louis as you swapped stories. Your hands never left each other, though. He kept stroking your palm, just to remind himself you were here, right next to him.

“So how's the volleyball club, Mrs. manager?”

“Mrs? Do I look like I'm married?” to which Louis responded with a shrug and wink.

Coincidentally, the Inarizaki boys entered the shop at that very moment, freezing in their tracks after seeing you in a booth with Louis.

“Psst. Guys. Loverboy's here.”

“Should we say hello?”

“I might cry if they kiss” whimpered Akagi.

“We need to say hello, it's the right thing to do.” said Kita sensibly, as he walked up to the two of you. “Hello y/n-san, Louis-san.” said Kita with a slight nod.

Happily, you rose from your seat and hugged the captain, thanking him for saying hi, as you introduced him to Louis.

Soon, the other boys came around and one by one, introduced themselves as well. Honestly speaking, they were jealous. How could they possibly get over someone like you? Someone as spectacular and beautiful as you? But when they saw you face shining with radiance as you smiled at Louis, and the way his hands never left yours, they understood.

And they wanted you to be happy. That was the most important thing, above all else for the both of them.

“I love you, manager-chan.”

[luvteez]

bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong​ for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will 

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“ 

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder. 

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”

[softomi]

hello!!! i'm the anon who got her heart broken hdjdhdj and i just want to say i really owe you so much these days bc i found your other blog and i have just been spending a few minutes everyday giggling and laughing and i just- i love you i hope you get all the happiness you deserve 😭 um if your 500 event is still open, may i ask for Fast Forward #3 with osamu, suna (feel free to clown those 2 HAHAHA) and kita (bc i just. i think i'm in love with him.) thank you and pls be kind to yourself! ♡

Fast Forward #3: Things he doesn’t know how to do; aka things you have to teach him

Osamu:

It’s amazing how little he knew about taking care of animals. Even more amazing how you would have to walk him through on how to feed your pet, how to clean after the pet, and even play with your little furry child. You shouldn’t have been surprised though, considering the first time he met the animal, he just threw a treat at your pet as if that was feeding.

“You can just leave the food in the tray, sometimes she stops eating halfway but will come back after a little bit.”

He stared at the food bowl like it was a whole new world for him, “What happens if she doesn’t finish?”

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. She just might not be too hungry or you gave her too many treats.” You stare at him who has treats sitting in between his fingers, your furry companion brushing against his leg in hopes of getting a treat, “Samu, seriously, stop giving her treats!”

“But she loves me!” He puts another out and she gladly takes it from his palm.

“Samu! She doesn’t love you; she loves the treats in your hands.”

Osamu chuckles, brushing his hand over her fur, “You know she reminds me of you; this is exactly how I trapped you. You fell in love with me over the food in my hands.” He drops the bag of treats when your hand smacks against the back of his head.

Suna:

Surprisingly, but also not, he was a terrible cook. Apparently, from what his sister says, their mother or her would do all the cooking. It was a typical man’s house type situation, but that didn’t mean he was totally useless. He was pretty handy with fixing things around the apartment, thanks to his father’s teaching. But the kitchen? That was a different story.

This shouldn’t even be counted as cooking, “Just put three minutes on the microwave.” You press the buttons to the machine, Suna watching as the microwave starts to work and for three long minutes, the two of you wait, “See, this is how you make ramen.”

He hums as he stares down into the cup of noodles, “Doesn’t it usually have an egg?” He pokes through the noodles as if an egg would appear.

You nearly facepalm, “Usually when you cook it on the stove top, yeah people add an egg.” There was a part of you that wanted to hug Suna out of pity, “Maybe we can do that next time.”

His mouth is filled with noodles, huffing out air at how the noodles burn his tongue, “So how do I cook rice?”

Your lips twitch, was he serious? You blink at him then to the rice cooker on the countertop, “It’s literally a button you push Suna, what the hell?”

Kita:

Oh, he was absolutely amazing; perfect that you wouldn’t have even noticed this if he hadn’t pointed it out to you. He was terrible with his cell phone, didn’t know that he could change his ringtone because his current one was absolutely annoying and had the longest passcode ever to which he didn’t know how to fix. Even the most mundane problems, you would find yourself leaning on his shoulder and showing him how to properly work his phone.

His current problem today? His friends thought it would be funny to change his cell phone background to a meme and it was absolutely annoying having to look at it.

“Just go to settings.” You rest yourself onto his shoulder, “Then go to wallpaper.”

His hand accidentally slips and clicks Accessibility, causing him to sigh loudly at how hard this was as he would always put it, “I don’t understand why they thought it would be funny to change the background.”

You laugh against the fabric of his shirt, “Maybe it’s because you had your cell phone on the default background since you’ve gotten your phone.”

He shakes his head with a sigh, “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He ends up on the wallpaper section, “Okay now what?”

You hum, “Click, choose a new wallpaper, then you can go back to your default wallpapers.”

His fingers hover over the screen, “What’s this?” He points at the All Photos folder.

“You can pick one of the pictures in your album to be your wallpaper. See.” You click on the folder and what stares back is an array of photos he’s ever taken.

He doesn’t hesitate, choosing the picture of you he took in front of one of the rice fields as his new lock screen.

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

highlights:

new favorites post is publicly available on [patreon]!

[preview] for next month’s phone wallpaper is up!

a bit of a short one today.

on [prophecy]:

@ceylonsilvergirl​ said: Why is it never being right about awesome things?

to be fair I am also often right about good things, just not so much the past couple months lol

@jupiterlandings​ said: Apollo leave my boy ALONE or I swear I will bring Marx back so he can make the mooon kick the suns trash again

lol I suppose that is in fact a solution kirby has available

on [butterflies]:

@hobgirl​ said: oh to lie in the grass and look at butterflies. unfortunately butterflies keep trying to land in my hair like some fairytale princess shit, but i was warned as a child that touching butterflies can kill them specifically bc the scales on their wings are very delecate and u can take them off just by touching the wings, and thatll make it impossible for them to fly. so now i get spooked when butterflies get close to me cause what if i accidentally kill it????

omg that sounds so stressful. I’m pretty sure they’re not quite that delicate, if it helps. so gently waving them away or setting them somewhere else should be fine. (I did a quick search and it looks like researchers actually scrape the scales off on purpose in the tagging process, so I guess they can still live and fly without some of their scales!)

@northeasternwind​ said: ah yes. all yellow. no red or orange to be seen. can relax. c:

I thought about it but I decided they should all be regular butterflies XD

on [woo]:

@hobgirl said: woo! re the tags im very happy for you tumblr user kirby the gorb!! its very unfair that we need money to live and its nice to hear you wont need to worry about it as much. not re the tags anymore EYE am going to use this woo! as a preemptive celebration for finally cleaning my apartment, cause its a whole mess and now that my girlfriend is gone for the month ive lost all motivation to keep it clean. but i will!! today i will!!!!

thank you! and I hope your apartment made it to a more comfortable state! (I actually get more cleaning done when my wife isn’t home, cuz I know the noise and disruption can’t bother her if she’s not here XD )

on [sweater]:

@ceylonsilvergirl said: one time my family went into The City (I was a young teen at the time) it was summer but all of us forgot that SF evenings, even in the middle of summer, are cold as hell. so my parents quickly bought us souvenir sweaters to keep us from dying, and mine was an oversized yellow sweater with SF emblazoned across the front in yellow thread. I wore that damn thing every single day, just on top of whatever it was that I was wearing. I hadn’t thought about that in years. funny how memories live in your brain whether you realize it or not

oh wild I wonder how common it is to get so attached to a desperation sweatshirt cuz I had one too! I was at some Nerd Competition (destination imagination, to be specific. do they still do that one?) on the other side of the state towards the end of middle school and it was absolutely dumping rain, but my whole team was just left to run loose until it was time for our presentation so of course we were outside climbing retaining walls the whole time. and I’m this tiny waif child and I’m soaked to the bone and it was just a day trip so I didn’t bring any extra clothes, but it was late into the day so when my mom went to buy me a Branded Sweatshirt to change into they only had plus size ones left, it was like a 2x or something. and then I wore it nearly every day for years, to the point where it got so ratty and full of holes they bought me a replacement in the same color and size (with an osu logo instead).

on [braces]:

@ceylonsilvergirl [added] a speech bubble that says “My mom says if I clean my room I can get a bearded dragon for my next birthday. Did you hear the ice cream man? Let’s go ride bikes to the park. I only need to save up five more dollars then I can get the new Mario game. Who do you think is faster, the flash or sonic?. Do you like Pokémon?” and said: Kirby is like a little kid. but Kirby is braces is like an older kid

oh absolutely, braces-kirby totally has the vibe of one of those like pre-teen/early teen kids that is just So Full Of Thoughts and they badly need to share All Of Them

on [peek]:

@ceylonsilvergirl [added] a speech bubble with a drawing of an ice cream cone

he saved up his allowance for this! he wants two scoops!

@theraphos said: me at the sandwich counter

“and extra meat and cheddar and provolone and no peppers and extra lettuce and--”

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Reunion

Request: HERE  A/N: UPLOADING IT AGAIN BC I FORGOT TO TAG IT SORRY Soo it’s been what, one year, since I last posted a fic here? I’m kind of rusty ngl but nevertheless, it felt comforting to write something like this :) As usual, critiques and comments are welcome  Word count: 1.7 K+ Warnings: none

To be added - or removed - from the taglist, please DM me or leave me an ask!

GIF credit goes to @edgeofgreta; the original post is HERE

You walked into the apartment and set the two groceries-filled shopping bags onto the laminated floor. You kicked off your shoes and carried the bags into the open kitchen, placing them on the counter. With boredom, you took out every single item and placed them in their designated spaces. With the same growing boredom, you made your way back into the living room and threw yourself on the navy-blue sofa with your head sinking in one of the biggest pillows.

You pick up your phone and look at the screen – specifically, at the lockscreen wallpaper, which was a photo of you and Jake. Josh had taken that photo on one of the getaways you made together. Jake had on a beige shirt with his top four buttons undone – in other words, only with his lower two buttons done – and his favorite black hat. He was standing up tall, a wide smile on his face, and you were leaning against him, with your head placed on his right shoulder. You smiled and unlocked your phone, then opened the messages app and texted Jake.

I miss you :( Why does tour have to last this long?

Underneath the blue message bubble appeared the notification that the message had been read, then three typing dots appeared on Jake’s end.

I miss you too, honey. I can’t wait to get home and see you.

You begin to type.

Can we facetime later?

The answer came shortly.

Sorry, but tonight we have a gig. Tomorrow, too… We’re having practice now. Josh has again too much energy and needs to drain it a little bit before going onstage. Got to go now :( Love you

You typed back a formal luck-wishing message and threw the phone on the coffee table in front of the sofa. You were bored out of your mind and in the mood to do nothing whatsoever. Jake had been gone for almost three months now. You understood that it was his job and those were the terms and conditions you agreed to when you started dating him, but you didn’t figure at the time that separation would feel like that. It was safe to say that from time to time you missed him so much it hurt you.

You curled into a fetal position and turned on the TV. Flicking through the channels, you stopped at MTV. Highway Tune just began to play. Your heart grew at the sight of the boys and especially at the sight of Jake. You were so proud of them for getting that far and the mere thought that there actually is a far longer way for them to go made your heart beat in exhilaration. As the last notes of the song echoed through the room, you closed your eyes, pleased that you had seen the band on TV again.

You woke up from the “nap” way too late – it was 1 AM when you opened your eyes – so you moved from the living room to the bedroom. You didn’t bother changing your clothes and you just got underneath the blankets covering the double bed. Before falling asleep again, you looked over at the empty space next to you and you caressed the sheets, wishing that Jake would be there.

The new morning brought along a new day, but unfortunately, the base routine was the same: breakfast, staying in bed for way longer than you should’ve, going outside for some more groceries, flipping through magazines, watching TV, texting – or at least trying to text – Jake. The difference was that today, you called in sick for work and decided to do something fun.

After calling multiple of your friends, asking if they were free to go shopping with you, you finally let yourself defeated and decided you’d visit some shops on your own.

While you were at the bookshop – the one you frequently visited with Jake – you found a puzzle which, put together, should create a 3D globe with multiple images from the Renaissance era. You figured that Jake would find that puzzle at least as intriguing as you did. I could start putting together a welcome-home gift for Jake, you grinned as the thought crossed your mind. You picked the puzzle box off the shelf and walked around the bookshop with it. You stopped in front of the vinyl-filled boxes and you began browsing through them. Jake had a ridiculously large vinyl collection, but you listened to it together so many times that you almost knew every record by heart.

After way too much time spent pondering which records to get, you finally settled for The Doors’ Morrison Hotel and T-Rex’s Electric Warrior. On your way to the register, you stopped by the wine-for-special-occasions section and picked up a bottle.

With your heart filled with excitement, you came back home and called out. “Jake, I’m –,” but you stopped as you remembered that he wasn’t actually home. You slowly let the paper bag containing the puzzle, the wine bottle and the two records on the ground as you locked the door. Before unpacking, you checked your phone. No notifications from Jake. You felt your heart lightly twitch. You couldn’t blame Jake: he was just busy and most likely tired.

You took out the new acquisitions and arranged them on the low coffee table and smiled at the thought of Jake coming in through the front door.

You were tired, so you quickly did your night routine and you got into bed. Once you were in bed though, you couldn’t fall asleep. You just kept tossing back and forth, unable to find a comfortable position. Unannouncedly and unexpectedly, tears welled up in your eyes as you laid there, alone, facing the empty space to your left. You didn’t fight the tears back; you were alone in the darkness, there was no one who could see you. You just missed Jake so much. You missed the smell of his cologne imprinted even in his pajamas. You missed his laughter that managed to make you laugh all the time and you missed those moments when you’d both begin to laugh hysterically and you’d laugh at Jake’s laugh and he’d laugh at yours, and you both laughed so much that you forgot what started it in the first place. You missed his random moments of dancing around the house and you missed his complaints mostly aimed at Josh. As the memories reeled in the back of your mind, your sobs got more frequent. Thinking of it, three months didn’t sound like such a long time, but in reality, time is tricky. Three months can easily feel like three hours and just as easy can feel like three years. For you, it felt like three decades. You mindlessly grabbed Jake’s pillow and hugged it tightly to your chest, wishing it would be Jake instead of just a pillow.

As a new day dawned, you shuffled in your sleep and hugged the pillow again. You didn’t want to wake up just yet.

“Wakey, wakey,” a voice said from somewhere behind you, almost through a dream.

“Five more minutes,” you groaned, unwilling to open your eyes. You paused then and held your breath.

“You’re gonna be late for work,” the voice spoke again and a warm finger traced your side.

You jumped almost instantly. “Jake!” you shouted and collapsed over him, your arms circling his shoulders. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply – that faint smell of freshly squeezed lemons, mint and cigarettes. His arms circled your waist and you both fell onto the bed. “God, I missed you so much,” you whisper.

“I missed you too… I am so happy to be back home,” he said and hugged you tighter.

Time stood still for you. You were in your happy place and nothing could get you away from there. You pulled away and looked at Jake. You ran your index fingers on both sides of his face and then cupped his face in your hands. Jake didn’t break eye contact with you not even for a second. He softly leaned into your right hand and with his right hand, he took your free one and brought it up to his lips, leaving a kiss on it. “Come here,” he whispered and smiled at you, as his hand made its way up to your cheek, slowly guiding you in towards his lips. You closed your eyes and slightly tilted your head to the side, anticipation growing in your stomach. His lips on yours felt so soft, so satin-like and sweet. You couldn’t get enough of this feeling. As an instinctive gesture, you brought your hand up to Jake’s face and let your fingers roam over his soft skin until they mindlessly tangled into his hair. Jake chuckled in-between needier and needier kisses, “More to come later.” He softly pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “Next time, you’ll quit your job and come with me on tour.”

“Definitely,” you giggle, already picturing it in your mind. City after city, state after state – and you’d be there to see it all. “Jakey,” you say and pout a little.

“Yes, I will cuddle with you,” he nodded his head before you even got the occasion to ask the question. You break out in laughter and fall into the bed which, now that Jake was home, was even more comfortable.

You snaked your arms around Jake’s torso and pulled yourself closer to him. Jake pulled the blanket over the two of you in one swift move and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I’m never letting you go,” you whisper and cuddle closer to his chest.

“Please never do,” he answered and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Did one of the boys tell you by any chance that we’re coming back early?”

“No, why?”

“Oh, that’s good. I wanted it to be a surprise,” he spoke lowly. “I saw you had some wine in the kitchen.”

You giggled. “It’s for us, for when you would come home.”

“I am home now,” Jake raised an eyebrow.

“I’m calling in sick again,” you announced and Jake’s laugh echoed through the room.

“That’s my girl.”

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