#HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BOY MY ANGEL.. MY ANGLE.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stobinesque · 8 months

Text

held frozen like an angel to me

A birthday fic for the truly incomparable @steves-strapcollection!! Happy Birthday, Gerry, I hope you're having the best and filthiest day imaginable.

If you somehow don't know: Ger is an absolute powerhouse of smutty Steddie creation, and also one of the first people to welcome me so warmly and enthusiastically to the Steddie fandom. It's been a truly wild ride getting sucked back into the obsessive heights of fandom brainrot for the first time in years over the past few months, and Gerry is definitely at least 30% responsible for it (I would be willing to go higher).

Also if you haven't read any of Gerry's work you should absolutely go do that. He's out here writing some of the best transmasc erotic fiction in the English language (I'm intentionally leaving off the 'fan' prefix there).

This fic also has art made by the mind-bogglingly talented @sentient-trash. It's an absolutely stunning piece, and the collaboration with Simon definitely accounts for the richness of detail within the fic as a whole. This story truly wouldn't be what it is without him. Also many thanks to @scarcrossdlvrs and @inairbinad for being my cheerleaders!

A playlist for the fic can be found here.

Steddie | wc: 10.3k | Explicit | cw/tags: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Vers Dom Steve Harrington, Vers Sub Eddie Munson, Monsterfucking, Monster Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Dual POV, Gothic Vibes, Referenced Non-Monogamy, Shapeshifting Genitalia, Dream Sex/Manipulation, Sleep Paralysis, Biting, Aphrodisiac Venom, Blood Kink/Blood Play, Choking, Breeding Kink, Possessiveness/Obsession, Ownership, Collars, Compulsion, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Come Play/Come Eating, Foot Kink (kind of?? including to be safe), Cock & Ball Torture, light gore?? (at least some mildly gory allusions/metaphors), Religious References and Biblical Allusions, Dacryphilia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Tails, Wing Kink, Lactation Kink, Knotting, Good Boy Eddie Munson

[ READ ON AO3 ]

The hall echoes with silence, as it has for weeks now.

Steve stretches his limbs, and the rough sound of stone grinding against stone rends the air.

As marble gives way to skin and scale, Steve’s awareness shifts to a damp trail carving a path down his face. The arm stretched over his head falls, hand brushing over his cheek and coming back wet with the blood of his tears. He brings it to his lips. Licks it away. The taste of his pet bursts across his tongue. The source of all his tears.

At long last, his beloved has returned. He can scent it on the air.

Steve unfurls his wings, letting them open wide for the first time in what feels like ages.

Knowing a mortal has distorted his perception of time.

No matter.

Steve regards the manacle looped around his ankle with an indulgent smile before willing it away into nothingness.

His pet's desire to keep him as a pretty thing never fails to amuse.

Steve twirls the garland of his namesake flower in his hands. Considers disappearing it along with the manacle. But his beloved likes to see him adorned with pretty things.

He wreaths himself in flower and leaf, the tips of his horns holding the white blooms in place.

Steve has always imagined that shaking off his statuesque form must feel akin to waking from that slumber humans seem to love so much. It feels good to be back in his body—muscles tensing and flexing as he turns to regard his stone plinth, tail whipping around him as the stiffness in his joints dissipates.

His eyes rove the space, taking in the finery he rarely gets to see from other angles. He runs his fingers over the filigree of his alcove, careful not to scratch the wood, and smiles with the knowledge that his pet gives him pride of place amongst his collection. That he considers Steve his finest treasure.

But Steve is being too self-indulgent. It's time to welcome his lover home.

The old grandfather clock tolls the witching hour as Steve ascends the staircase. When he reaches the top it’s to find that his lover did not make it past the parlor on his return home.

Eddie is sprawled across his ornate fainting couch—splayed out in a pile of furs. He’s half-dressed in a pair of leather pants that look painted on, while his pale chest gleams in the moonlight.

Steve leans against the door frame, watching as he sleeps. And though no one is there to see it, he beams, wicked.

Oh, how he loves to toy with his food before he eats it.

Eddie is floating; suspended in æther.

Strange lights and shapes of color bend and twist and fold around him.

He chases after them—reaching out to grasp each one. Watching as they disintegrate between his fingers.

And then he’s falling.

No, not falling.

The ground is rushing up to meet him.

To cradle him like a lover.

Eddie stares up into a meaningless sky—void of all but darkness—as hands begin to grasp at his chest. Fingers trail across his torso. Grab at his side. Graze and pinch his nipples with a biting force.

He can’t count them. Can’t see them.

Can’t hear anything.

He is surrounded by disembodied touch—holding him up, pressing him down, squeezing, fondling, grappling.

And he is at sea, searching for an anchor.

He's lost.

Lost without his angel.

His lord.

Eddie casts about, searching without sense.

Stretching the boundaries of himself and pulling.

A wet warmth envelops one of his nipples. A pair of soft lips trail kisses down the line of his stomach. A ravenous mouth sucks a bruise into his neck. Still another descends down, down, and—

Eddie gasps, but still there is no sound.

No breath escaping his lungs.

It's the idea of a gasp, moan, cry sailing through him.

His blood runs hot. Muscles tense.

He’s all sensation with no grounding.

High and drunk on the hands and mouths that travel the expanse of him.

He wants a way out. To escape the sticky web he’s been trapped in.

But a part of him wants to sink.

To drop like a stone.

To drown.

To let The Lord of skies and heavens and seas come to bear him up and pluck him from the depths below.

Where is he?

Angel

His mind echoes with the cry, even while the phantom sense of his body aches and struggles to move. To break free. To fight or flee or float towards the one who loves him.

Angel. My lord.

Eddie wakes with a gasp, air bubbling in his chest. He blinks against the moonlight, sight restored. Yet he still can't move. Pinned in place by some outside force. Alone and petrified—

No, he's not alone. There's a figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the chandeliers he keeps faintly lit in the receiving hall.

Eddie sees the outline of wings. Of horns. A flowered crown.

No sooner has he had the thought to reach out than the figure is stalking towards him. Eddie still can't move, and the beat of his heart picks up its pace. Not yet pounding in terror, but racing like he's just started a chase. He wants to speak. Wants to cry out, wants to—

"Hello, my pet."

Golden-verdigris eyes flicker in the moonlight as the figure hovers over him. It's not enough to see by—not nearly enough—but he knows Steve is smiling by the way it glints off one of his fangs.

A part of Eddie relaxes at the sight of him. Close enough to touch, to kiss—finally, after weeks apart.

But his hind-brain—locked in the throes of disorientation from his dream—still perceives his angel as threat. As monster.

That's what he is, after all.

Eddie's monster.

The talon of Steve's index finger hooks through the one that dangles from the scaled collar around Eddie's neck and tugs gently. "You've been gone too long, beloved." His voice is somehow both honeyed and sibilant. "I ought to welcome you home."

Firm lips press against Eddie's own. He's starting to regain some use of his limbs—can feel his control returning to him at the edges of his consciousness—but the second Steve swipes his tongue across Eddie's lips his mouth goes numb. He lies there, slack-jawed, as Steve kisses him with diluted venom on his tongue. Eddie moans, the sound pulled from his chest like Steve had hooked his talons through his very soul and pried it loose.

He thinks that actually happened long ago.

Steve pulls away, and Eddie wants to chase after him, but he's still held in place by the sleep paralysis. Some corner of his mind still pinned down by Steve's power.

Eddie needs to touch, to feel—to have a voice to speak and beg for it.

He can’t form his mouth around words, but he can make sounds, so he pushes a whine from his throat. Needs to let Steve know how much he’s missed him. How much he ached for him while he was away. How not an hour or minute passed where he wasn't picturing himself wrapped in Steve's embrace, even when he was using someone else to fill that gaping void in him.

And Steve is toying with him. Taking his own welcome by force.

Eddie shivers, and above him, Steve chuckles darkly, eyes flashing again in the silvery light.

Steve straddles his waist, and the faint light from the hall shines through the white blooms of the stephanotis flowers that wreathe the crown of his head. Eddie’s breath catches at the sight. He wants to supplicate himself before his Angel.

Eddie wants. Not just the simple gratification of physical pleasure—though he aches to have his lover’s hands on him—but also just a scrap of light. Steve may be able to see him just fine, but Eddie is still only human, and can't make out anything beyond Steve’s eyes and the occasional glimmer of his smile.

Eddie misses the sight of his face. Wants to drink in every detail. The sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones. The inhuman shimmer of his skin. The flecks of golden scales that dot him like moles—those catch and shimmer in the moonlight when Steve turns his head just right, but it's not enough.

Eddie’s mouth is still numb, but he can feel the severed link between mind and body reforming, and with a twitch Eddie manages to drag his arm up, to press his palm to the stony texture of his angel's skin.

A scaled claw snatches his wrist up immediately, followed by a hissing reprimand. "Now who told you you could move, my pet?" Steve whispers, leaning in close.

Eddie moans, and as the air passes between his lips he realizes that feeling has returned to them. "Lights," he manages to mumble. "Want…to see you."

"Are you making demands of me, my love?" Steve drags a knuckle down the side of Eddie’s face. "I don't think you've earned the right to make such requests, pet."

Eddie closes his eyes, because it is easier to see nothing than to be deprived of the full, glorious sight of his Master. "Please…my Lord. Please, I wish to be graced with the sight of you," Eddie begs around the cotton of his mouth.

Steve hums. "Well, I suppose you do beg prettily enough, even for a creature who speaks so plainly out of turn." Steve leans in ever closer, until the shining threads of his lashes brush against Eddie's cheek. "But I'm going to need you to stay." Steve punctuates the last word with a strain of Command behind it, followed by a sharp bite, fangs plunging into the tendons of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie gasps, arching his back as he feels the burning heat of Steve's venom enter his blood stream. Warmth rushes through him, heart pumping Steve's essence into each corner and every crevice of his being. His vision blurs as his head grows fuzzy and distant.

He feels the weight on him shift. Move. Disappear. Watches as the silhouette of a demon—an angel's retreating form—moves across the room. And then the parlor is awash with a dim golden light.

Eddie's eyes blink against it, thick with tears. It hurts, almost, in spite of how low it is. But it’s worth it for the vision that greets him when Steve steps back into his line of sight.

Steve was always a vision to behold. A creature without compare.

He moves like a dancer. Like a reed on the wind. Like a snake. Even when he’s standing still—even when literally encased in living stone in Eddie’s stairwell—he looks like a piece of art in motion. Like a spirit that can’t be captured.

He is everything the gods and poets speak of when defining beauty—and not just for the sight of him.

But what a sight he is.

Muscles that ripple in the low light. Golden scales that dot his skin like starlight. Hair that flickers like flames. Like there’s a perpetual gust of wind passing through those gossamer strands. Dusky nipples pierced through with golden hoops that sparkle and shine like the wiry metallic strands of hair that carpet his chest.

His arms and legs end in iridescent scales that flicker between green and gold and sapphire when they catch the light. Fingers and toes capped with talons sharp and black as obsidian.

All except the ring finger of his left hand.

That talon is around Eddie's neck.

His love is bare of everything except the token of Eddie's he himself bears—a collar made of gold, with Eddie's first guitar pick attached to the ring that dangles above Steve’s clavicle. He wears not a stitch of clothing while in this form—an affront to its very purpose, Steve explained once—but he allows himself to be adorned with that marker of Eddie's ownership at all times.

Steve stands before him. Lets Eddie drink his fill of the sight of him. And he knows that Steve has missed seeing him as much as Eddie has missed seeing Steve.

For the next tour, Eddie will have to devise a way to bring him along.

Perhaps as a piece of set decoration.

Steve takes a loping step forward and his wings unfurl behind him.

Eddie's heart lodges in his throat. Seeing them makes him want to soar. To fly above the world while they fuck and drench it with their love. They’re unlike any wings Eddie has ever seen or dreamt up in fantasy. Some cross between bat and bird and mythical beast.

Iridescent emerald, just like his scales and eyes, and layered with feathers and scales like beetle wings that ripple and shimmer with every movement. They tinkle as they shift, like dried scarab wings.

And when Steve flies they make music.

Steve stalks forward like a beast hunting prey. His pet’s eyes are fixed on the expanse of his wings, because his lover is weak for pretty things, as all mortals are. Steve preens under the attention—Narcissus took direction from him, after all—letting them flap and flutter behind him as he crosses back to where he has Eddie trapped in his Command.

“Your gaze is covetous, my love.”

“I have no other way to look at you, Master.”

Steve’s face splits into a grin, fangs pressing into the swell of his bottom lip. His pet is flushed a pretty petal pink all over. Cheeks flaring red, blood pooling just beneath the surface of fragile, porcelain skin.

Steve aches to drink from him. He doesn’t need blood to sustain him like certain other creatures of the night. But he already knows that the taste of his lover’s lifeblood is more refined than the bouquet of the finest vintage.

Steve continues his slow approach, savoring how Eddie’s rapt gaze moves with him. Like there's a cord attaching it to Steve.

When Steve folds himself onto his lover’s lap, his pet keens as though he’s only just realized he’s been straining the front panel of his leathers from the moment Steve got his fangs in him.

“Steve…Stevie…Phan. please.” The muscles of Eddie's neck tense as he strains against the venom's paralysis to try to reach Steve.

Steve’s talons clink against the metal bars pierced through Eddie’s nipples as he twists them in rough admonishment. “You speak out of turn, Theo.”

Their private nicknames for each other are for use outside of play.

Eddie’s breath escapes his throat in pained, reedy gasps as Steve pinches, sending twin paths of blood streaming down either side of Eddie’s chest. Steve watches with fascinated delight as Eddie’s body struggles to move away from the pain, but can’t due to the venom flooding his veins.

“S-sorry, Master. Please, I’m so sorry.” Tears bead along his pet’s lashes, and Steve paws his chest with gentling touches.

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, with an impish smile, taking a bloodied nipple into his mouth with a groan, and suckling at it like it was milk pouring from it. Steve moans, letting the warm red liquid pool on his tongue before swallowing it down. His lover’s blood is sweet and fragrant as honeyed wine, and Steve is already drunk on it. His cunt gushes, wet and ready to be filled with even more of Eddie’s sticky-sweet goodness.

Steve slides back until he’s straddling the tops of Eddie’s thighs, and palms a hand over the bulge there. Eddie moans, looking half ready to die a little death with nothing more than the suggestion of Steve’s touch along his length.

His poor foolish pet always forgets how hot his blood runs when he gets a little venom in him.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” Steve says. He hooks a talon through the laces that tie Eddie’s pants shut and snicks them open. “Missed this beautiful piece of work inside me even more.” Eddie isn’t wearing anything under his pants, and the second the leather cords snap, his cock bobs up and hits his stomach, standing proudly at attention under Steve’s ravenous stare.

Steve slowly drags the curved back of a talon along the underside of it, smiling wickedly when Eddie whimpers and tries to buck his hips upwards. Steve tsks, sliding the finger down, down, down—tickling along the seam of Eddie’s sack, pressing carefully against the sensitive skin of his taint, and continuing downward until the second knuckle of that finger is nudged up against Eddie’s entrance, bearing into it.

Eddie whines, and Steve coos gently as he takes the reddening length of his dick into a loose fist with his other hand. “It’s a shame that you humans are so fixed. I’d bet you’d just love to have a tight little snatch for me to fuck.”

A glob of precome spurts from Eddie’s length and Steve tsks, shaking his head. “Messy boy. You already get so wet for me. Bet you’d love to be sopping with slick. So ready to take me inside, isn’t that right, pet?” Eddie lets out a muffled, high-pitched sound of affirmation. Steve smiles. “We’ll get there. For now I just need you to sit there while I get my fill of you.”

Steve rises up onto his knees, positioning the head of Eddie's cock at the entrance of his cunt. He presses his palms to the center of Eddie's chest as he sinks down in one fluid motion, careful not to let his talons break skin. Steve lets his eyes flutter shut as he sheathes himself on Eddie's cock with a satisfied sigh.

Steve loves to take his pet any way he can get him. But he can’t deny that there’s a particular pleasure to the fullness of his prick inside him. Steve can feel Eddie in his guts. Feels greedy as he sucks him down. Wants his cum and love spilled all over his insides.

Eddie whines—and the paralytic effects of the venom must be wearing off, because Steve feels his lover's hips twitch upward from beneath him.

Now that simply won’t do.

Steve curls his fingers so that his claws rip and rend into flesh. His talons drag down the length of Eddie’s torso—nipples to navel—and Steve relishes in the scream it elicits. Rivulets of blood rush to the surface, trickling in small tributaries over the white expanse of Eddie's skin. Steve wanted to loop each around every line of red there and hold him in his hands like they're the threads of fate. Wants to weave the strands together until he has a cerement of blood and love and viscera enshrouding them.

Steve feels the muscles of his back tense and bunch and ripple as his wings stretch wide. He yearns to take to the skies—still wrapped around his lover—and let the blood he’s pulled from Eddie’s veins spill down like rain on the parochial inhabitants below.

None else but the two of them know love and joy and ecstasy like this.

Steve shifts his gaze back to his lover's face, adoration swelling in his chest. Tears stream down Eddie's face as Steve bounces on his cock and he forces himself not to thrust up into Steve's wet heat. With each minute that passes the struggle to hold still will grow stronger. The venom pumping through Eddie's veins makes him insatiable. Even when Steve inevitably milks him dry, his body will want more. This is just the beginning, the heat in his blood driving Eddie to chase after every sensation—pleasure and pain alike heightened to the edges of perfection.

"You're trying to be so good for me, aren't you, pet?" The words fall from Steve's mouth like a challenge. Eddie moans, head tipping back at the words. "Trying to keep your composure even though I can feel the way you're struggling not to shove this beautiful cock of yours as deep as it will go. But you're just a desperate little slut for me aren't you, pet? No better than a mindless, rutting animal."

Eddie snuffles, hips rocking up to meet Steve's with stilted, half-aborted thrusts.

Steve tsks, condescension dripping from his tone. "Did you want to come for me, pet? FIll me with your seed? Get me fit to bursting with a bunch of wingėd little cambions to fly around the empty mausoleum you like to keep me trapped in? As though you are lord over me?”

Eddie sobs, fists clenching into the furs beneath him, as Steve leans in close, trailing his forked tongue over the lines of blood, drinking in everything Eddie had to offer him, and moaning as the sweet taste broke over his tongue. “I let you own me, pet. And you would do good not to forget it.”

It was a truth wrapped in a lie. Or perhaps a lie hidden in the shape of a truth. Lord Stephanotis was not a creature to be ruled by a mortal in mere letter of law. In deed, however?

Despite the irony of it all, Steve had let this curious mortal bend him to his will. Had let the sharper edges of his own power be domesticated and subsumed by Theo's will. Steve was allowed only the meals that his pet’s body provided. He could, ostensibly, leave at any time in pursuit of a wider menu—but why would he, when his Theo was satiating all on his own?

When he was there, that is.

Maybe that was why time stretched to an eternity in Eddie's absence.

Steve rolls his hips with a sinuous motion, moaning as the head of Eddie’s cock hooks behind his navel and drives him wild.

“That’s right pet, fill me up.”

“Master, please,” his pet begs.

Steve’s tail whips out to wrap around Eddie’s neck, cutting off his pleas with a choked moan. “You forget your place, pet. I’ve reminded you more than enough times not to speak out of turn." Steve squeezed his cunt around Eddie's cock on a harsh downward thrust. "If you want to go gallivanting around the world taking any random cock, or stuffing any pretty pussy that flashes your way while leaving me chained here like some common whore, the least you can do is let me use you to get my fill when you return.”

Steve slams down onto Eddie’s cock again and grinds into him, tightening his tail around Eddie's neck and watching with a sick, twisted glee as his face turns a bright red. “That was our deal was it not? You keep me locked away, and in my stead you go and sow your wild oats? If you want to change the terms of our contract, my love, you have to ask. You can’t just go around acting like this cock doesn’t belong to me once you’re back under this roof.”

Eddie let out a sound that Steve was more accustomed to hearing in muck-filled stables. A desperate whinnying sound that makes his clit throb.

“Listen to you bray for me. You’ve certainly got the cock for it, my little stallion. Go on, fill me up. Breed me.”

Sometimes Steve forgot what it meant to hunger.

No, that's not right.

Hunger has become his natural state since falling into the talons of Theodore Munson. He's forgotten what it feels like to be full. To be satiated. He hasn’t had a true feast in what feels like æons. He often finds himself wondering if perhaps Eddie himself was a creature of myth in disguise. If he’d ensnared Steve in some hidden trap and snipped his wings so he couldn’t fly past the bounds of his lover’s estate.

Deep down he knows the truth. That Steve has allowed himself to be domesticated. That he’s buried a piece of his essence in the grounds here, binding him to them as surely as he’s bound himself in his devotion to Eddie.

When they're together the time passes in glorious blips, and long, winding stretches of bliss. Beautifully long and bitterly short in equal measure. The time passes so swiftly because it costs nothing to be with his pet. And so addicting was spending time with Eddie, that time and space seemed to bend around them—create a bubble outside of the rest of the world.

But when Eddie's away?

The first time Steve had been left behind he’d tried to stay awake. He’d paced the lengths of the hall. He’d fucked himself on the toys they used together when Eddie was home. He’d even made one ill-fated trip to the town’s market. But come the third day the need to breed or be bred bowled him over. He'd attempted to have a waitress over a bartop at the restaurant up the street, but the second he so much as smiled at her, the collar around his neck had tightened, stealing away his breath. He’d ignored it. Unconvinced it could truly bring him real harm. And then he’d gone to really lay it on thick and the metal burned around him.

Enough to leave a brand around his neck.

Something that shouldn't be possible to remain imprinted on this form.

That night, Steve returned to the manor, gazing wistfully from the window overlooking the grounds, and settled into place in the small alcove Eddie had situated his plinth in.

It was lowering.

A creature of legend cowed and kept by a humans' weak and flinching hands.

Steve loved him for it.

Steve had curled there, shoved a hand through his hair, and let the ache of missing Eddie turn him to stone.

Never his heart though.

That beat beautiful and black at all times, a steady rhythm calling his lover back home. Back to his Master.

He needed to have his pet in his arms.

Eddie is going wild beneath him. Hips thrashing. Hands grappling at the tail wrapped around his neck as he struggles for breath. When he finally gives up and lets them fall away, Steve groans, throwing his head back and grinding his hips down as he chases after the building tension in his gut.

“Come on, pet. Breed your Master.”

Eddie cries, his hips bucking sharply, and Steve feels his release flood him.

Steve moans, head going fuzzy as Eddie’s cum fills his cunt.

Steve climbs off of Eddie’s lap, letting his softening cock slip out and slap back down against his stomach. Eddie watches as a trail of his cum slides down the inside of Steve’s thigh, and a strangled whine gets stuck in his throat at the image.

Eddie tingles all over. Feels lightheaded and loose-limbed. He’s a puddle on the pile of furs beneath him and doesn’t think he could move if he tried. But there’s still a fire burning in his gut and he wants more. Wants Steve’s cunt back around him. Wants his cock buried in his ass. Wants that clawed hand wrapped around him, stripping him raw. Wants his Master to bite into his chest and rip him open.

Eddie pants, staring up at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes. He barely registers Steve moving, arranging himself on the little couch so that he’s sitting next to Eddie’s feet, thighs spread wide. Eddie barely has a chance to consider the implications of how Steve’s arranged himself before he feels himself moving without will at Steve’s hissing Command. “Get on your knees for me, pet.”

The Command overrides any whisper of exhaustion. It blanks his mind. he isn’t Eddie anymore. he is merely the tool by which his Master’s every whim is realized.

he feels himself rise onto unsteady feet, then fall to his knees in supplication. he’s still in the leather pants he’d worn for the last tour show—sticky and uncomfortable from sweat and cum and blood; fly hanging open, framing the flaccid dick between his thighs. he settles into his place on his knees between his Master’s open legs, leather squeaking against the parlor tiles, arms hanging, head bowed towards the floor.

“Look at me.”

The Command shivers down his spine. he loves the way his Master’s commands burrow under his skin and slide through sinew to move his body before thought is known. Loves the way his muscles and bones seem to instinctively follow the exact designs of his Master’s mind. There’s no question whether or not he’s being good enough, because it’s his Master’s will arranging him like he’s the perfect puppet for His desires.

his Angel never asks for anything more than he is able to give—nor anything less than what he needs.

his head lifts, chin jutting up and out, eyes peering up through lashes clumped together with tears, and stares at his Angel. his Master stares back, but His gaze is hard to meet, pupils round and black like shining stones, with only a thin band of viridescence left shining there.

“So good for me, my pet,” his Angel murmurs, slipping His fingers into his pet’s curls. He doesn’t pull, or tug—simply weaves the strands over knuckle and claw, securing His hold. “Now—” his Master tips His head down with a smile that stokes an anticipatory curl of heat in his pet’s groin. “Clean up your mess.”

he moans, diving forward to bury his face in his Master’s cunt. The hand at the back of his head doesn’t quite guide him. Doesn’t quite hold him in place. Just sits there like a promise. If there was any chance he might move away without permission, that hand was there to correct him. If his Master wanted to inflict pain, that hand would wring it. If he tugged against its grip, the claws now grazing his scalp would tear.

“C’mon on, pet,” his Master snarls. “Eat your cum out of me.”

he mewls, tongue darting out to scoop a dollop of cum from his Angel’s pussy and swallow it down. The salty-sweet taste of his own cum mixed with his Angel’s slick drives him wild. he lets out a desperate cry, pressing his face further into his Master’s cunt.

But something niggles at the back of his mind—it feels almost wrong to eat his cum from his Angel’s cunt. Unnatural. He needs it. Needs His pet’s seed to take root. Needs His pet to shove his fingers into his Master’s cunt. Needs to have His pet’s release pushed as far up into Him as it will go. Needs His pet to bully past the tight ring of muscle of his Master’s cervix and force it to take.

he's already hard as nails between his legs again, whimpering with desperation as the pressure in his gut mounts. he can’t take it. Needs release. Needs to come. Needs to fuck. Needs to breed. Needs to fill his Angel up again and again and again until His belly is heavy and round with it. With his brood—their little cambions.

And if he can’t have that—his hand will do.

Eddie doesn’t even consciously realize he’s doing it. Doesn’t make the choice to shove a hand down the front of his pants and curl his fingers around the base of his cock. Didn’t plan to pump his fist over his dick. Doesn’t mean to circle the pad of his thumb over the glans as he slowly and thoroughly guzzles down his own spend from his Angel’s cunt.

At first, his Master doesn’t react. But then Eddie moans, loud and long into the cavern of his cunt as he twists a hand around the head of his cock on an upstroke.

A clawed foot kicks his hand away before pressing down onto his stiff length.

Eddie keens, tears slipping down his face as he sucks on his Angel’s engorged clit and bucks up against the rough texture of his sole. The edges of his Master’s scales catch at the sensitive skin of his shaft, His claws just shy of piercing the skin at the base of Eddie’s cock. The sharp pinpricks of pain white out Eddie’s brain and leave his ears ringing.

His mind goes soft and fuzzy as he drinks down his Angel’s slick, the sharp counterpoint of pain leaving him at the cliff’s edge of utter desolation. The Command keeping his mouth fixed in place does nothing to stop the unconscious rocking of his hips, and Eddie can’t help but thrust upwards as he sobs into his Angel’s cunt, chasing after release at the risk of his own destruction.

“You’re being very naughty, pet,” his Master growls, words broken up by harsh pants and grunts. his Master’s foot flexes, tightening his grip until the claws over Eddie’s cock break skin, and the pain drags a bleating sound from the depths of Eddie’s soul as thin trails of blood drip down the back of his balls.

“I should put you in a cage next time,” His Master growls—so dark and low he’s nearly subvocalizing. “You can’t be trusted to focus on anyone else when you’re this hard and gagging for it.” The hand in Eddie’s hair tightens into a fist and presses him harder into his Master’s groin, nose grinding over the engorged length of his massive clit. “You already got to come once, pet. What makes you think you’ve earned it a second time?”

Eddie wails, heart pounding in his chest as he laps desperately at his Master’s cunt, trying to get every last drop of spend that he left there down his throat. his Angel’s words from earlier flit through his head and a desperate moan escapes him as he pictures himself with his very own sopping cunt, throbbing and ready to take his Master’s swollen cock so deep it punches through his guts. Eddie’s hole twitches at the thought, head going static as sweet, sticky slick pours down his throat.

Eddie can’t control himself. Has no ability to stop the wild bucking of his hips as he chases his second release. Whatever his tongue is doing now is utterly by Command. Eddie thinks his tongue would keep slurping cum from his Master’s cunt even if Eddie were to drop dead right then. Thinks he’d have to be physically detached from this cunt for anything to get in the way of him carrying out his Master’s edict. So every glimmer of actual thought he has is aimed at driving himself over the edge—pain be damned.

Or maybe the pain is the medium and method by which he achieves it. The blood trickling down his balls is just another point of stimulation. The scales dragging along his shaft drive sparks of intoxicating heat through his nerves.

Eddie leans into it, chasing pleasure, chasing pain, even though some part of him knows that on the other side of release lies danger. he trembles and whines, images of his Master bending him over the parlor’s piano to deliver his punishment flitting through his mind. he thinks about the whip Steve keeps coiled down in the dungeon. Thinks about the barbed end of his tail curving in the air behind him. Thinks about the skin of his back breaking open as he takes twenty lashes in penance for the pleasure his Master did not permit.

Eddie wants it. Wants to tip his Master over the edge from the doling out of reactionary pain into calculated torture. Because his Angel doesn’t lose control when he gets truly angry. He sharpens it like a knife. And Eddie wants it sunk right into his heart. Through the gaps of his ribs. Wants to let his Angel cut him open and come inside. Mix His cum and spit and tears in Eddie’s guts and lungs.

Eddie sobs out at the thought, and his Angel comes apart under his tongue.

Eddie isn’t unaware of it happening—how could he be ignorant of the nectar of the gods spilling over his lips?—but he’s no longer in his body when it happens. He’s floating above it all. Or sinking beneath it. High or drowning on ecstasy and devotion, mindless with it. Tears pour down his face, and he’s no longer aware of his own arousal. There is only h,is Master and how to serve him.

To please.

Eddie collapses, unaware of whether or not he’s come.

he feels like his strings have been cut. he’s on all fours, prostrating himself before his Lord.

his Angel’s clawed foot is no longer on Eddie’s cock, but Eddie doesn’t care, doesn’t even register it beyond being able to now lean forward and press his sodden face to the top of it. his tears wash over scales and drip down the crevices between his Angel’s toes.

The hand in Eddie’s hair moves, stroking gently. From far away Eddie can make out his Angel raining praises down on him as Eddie washes His foot with his own tears. Thick translucent droplets twinkling in the dim light of the room.

Eddie uses his tongue to wipe them away, licking across the scales of his Angel’s foot, following the graceful lines of it to his ankle, up his calf. Eddie stares up at his Angel from beneath his lashes, and his Master drops his foot away from Eddie’s mouth, bringing it to rest on one of Eddie’s thighs. Pinning him in place and splaying him open like an entomologist's specimen.

Eddie no longer feels a desperate hunger clawing at him, but tears continue to fall freely from his face. Like his tear ducts know he longs to baptize his Lord in sorrow and joy. Eddie bends his face down to his Angel’s other foot, letting the tears slip free and decorate that one, too.

Steve lifts his foot, tipping his lover’s head up by the jut of his chin. The tears on Theo’s face sparkle in the moonlight, and Steve takes in a deep, steadying breath at the sight of him. His pet is so beautiful, even in greed.

But he’s docile now, seated so submissively at Steve’s feet. He’s taken the time to wash him with his tears. So Steve can’t bring himself to hold onto any tone of reprimand for acting out of turn.

Steve wraps his tail around the length of Eddie’s hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail. He uses that grip to pull Eddie back onto his haunches, and Eddie follows, moving like water under Steve’s command.

He stares up at Steve as though he’d hung the sun, moon, and stars within the heavens—and Steve smiles back. Eddie closes his eyes against it like he’s been blinded.

With a steady hand, Steve take’s Eddie’s face into his palm, brushing a thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip. His pet’s mouth parts for him, tongue lolling out, and Steve presses the talon of his thumb there until a small spurt of blood bubbles up. Eddie whines, sucking the talon into his mouth and laving over it carefully. The soft sound of a claw clacking against enamel echoes in Eddie’s mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Steve unwinds his tail from Eddie’s hair, dragging the tip along Eddie’s cheek before nudging at the corner of his mouth. Eddie's throat rumbles with soft, low, and strung out sound as he turns his until Steve’s talon slips free, and the tip of his spear-capped tail is pressed along the seam of his lips. Eddie sucks the tip of into his mouth, bobbing his head as though he were sucking down the stony length of the prick rapidly growing between Steve’s legs. Eddie’s mouth is warm and wet around him, and Steve’s ears flicker as heat pools at the base of his spine. He always manages to forget how good this feels as gooseflesh raises along the back of his neck, and heat races down his spine. Steve pushes the spear-tip further in, relishing the way Eddie's lips spread wide to accommodate the intrusion, and the soft clack of metal against teeth as the charm tangling from his tail almost enters Eddie's mouth as well.

“You can touch me, pet,” Steve offers with breathy beneficence—and Eddie doesn’t hesitate—trails calloused hands along the curving line of Steve’s tail. Curls one into a fist, stroking back and forth along the shaft in a pantomime of the world’s slowest, most decadent handjob. The other reaches back to settle at his tailbone massage practiced fingers into the muscles that bunch together there.

Steve groans low in his throat, hips jerking forward—thrusting the now fully formed length of his dick into empty air.

Heat coils through him, and the scales along his arms ripple and raise like goosebumps. Steve wants to sink into Eddie’s tight heat. Wants to impale his pet on his cock. Knows that he can’t breed his pet in the way he longs to, but is driven mad by the desire to try anyway. With the urge to rut up into him and make him take and take and take everything Steve gives him until they’re tied together.

The tip of Steve’s tail withdraws from Eddie’s mouth—replaced swiftly, but gently, with Steve’s thumb—to skirt along the mountains and valleys of Eddie’s spine. Eddie shivers and nestles further into the hollow of Steve’s thighs, suckling again at Steve’s fingers. Always happiest when he’s got his mouth full.

Eddie shivers and moans as Steve continues to work his tail down the length of his back, emitting a small squeaking sound as the edge of the speared tip presses against the barbell pierced through sensitive flesh. Eddie ruts down onto it, chasing friction, and when Steve looks back down it’s to see Eddie’s eyes completely glazed over. He makes small little humming, begging sounds around Steve’s thumb, like he’s trying to ask for something without opening his mouth to form the words.

Steve scrapes his free hand through Eddie’s hair, ruffling it gently. “You’re so good for me, love. Such a beautiful pet. So well trained when you choose to be.” Steve adjusts his tail so the very tip of it is pressed against his lover’s opening. Eddie’s hand twitches and flexes against the base of Steve’s tail, almost squeezing there. Steve groans again, dick throbbing and tail twitching in a way that has it breaching just that first ring of muscle.

Eddie yells, sound muffled by the clawed talon in his mouth, and his hips jerk backwards to try to suck more of Steve’s tail into him, in spite of how dry he is.

Saliva pools in Steve’s mouth and he quickly pulls the tip of his tail from Eddie’s ass, sucking it into his mouth to slather with spit and venom. Eddie keens, staring up at Steve with wide, wet eyes, and Steve just smiles as he slips his spit-slick tail back into his lover's hole.

He doesn’t shove in very far—doesn’t want to accidentally snag Eddie’s rim with the bit of jewelry that dangles from his tail—so he shallowly fucks just the tip of it in and out of Eddie’s opening, while his pet attempts to hold himself up on shaking thighs.

“Look at how gorgeous you are for me, my love. So good, even when you can’t restrain yourself from taking whatever you want.”

Eddie’s jaw drops open, dropping Steve's finger from his mouth, tongue lolling out, as he pants and tries to work himself onto Steve’s tail with small hitching thrusts. Tears work their way down the sides of his face, and his eyes have gone glassy and cross-eyed as they fix on the heavy weight of Steve’s thick, erect cock bobbing between his legs. Eddie licks his lips. Stares up at Steve with wide imploring eyes.

“You want Master’s cock, love?”

Eddie nods desperately.

“Get up here, then,” Steve says. But he doesn’t offer a moment for Eddie to move under his own power. Instead he fists a rough hand in his hair, yanking him up onto wobbly feet, and dragging him forward until he’s straddling Steve’s open thighs.

“You look so pretty in my lap, love,” Steve murmurs, drawing Eddie down into a long, languid kiss. Eddie chirps in surprise, but leans into it, parting his lips so his tongue can twine with Steve’s. Steve holds back on mixing venom with spit this time. Wants Eddie to feel every bit of him loving him this way.

Steve flexes his wings wide. Curves them forward. Cocoons the two of them together in a pocket of solitary silence, glittering green and gold.

Steve strokes a hand along the knobs of Eddie’s spine again, carefully tracing their bumps and ridges with the tip of a talon. Along the path downward, he shifts his hand, willing talons to recede, and scales to smooth away from fingers and palm. He brings a human down to the rim of Eddie’s hole, pressing gently alongside the tip of his tail. Eddie shudders in his lap, bearing down ever so slightly, and Steve leans in to press a kiss to his neck.

“Want to take my cock, pet?” Steve whispers into his ear.

“Please, Angel. Please, please take me. I need you. Need you in me, I— “

Steve strokes a hand through Eddie’s hair, shushing him gently. “Quiet, pet. I’m going to take care of you.”

Steve raises the shifted hand up to his mouth, sucking the first three fingers inside to coat them with saliva and venom. When he's satisfied he drops it back down to Eddie’s ass, and pushes his forefinger into Eddie’s hole in one slow, smooth glide.

Eddie moans, rolling his hips in Steve’s lap, chasing the sensation. “Feels so good,” he mumbles. “Tingles.”

Steve nuzzles his nose against Eddie’s cheek and murmurs in his ear. “I know, pet. I know how much you love feeling my spit and venom in you. How drunk you get on my cum. Can’t wait to fill you up, sweetness.”

Eddie makes a high-pitched sound in the back of his throat, bucking down on Steve's hand and tail. His arms reach up to wrap around Steve’s back, laying a flat palm against the space between Steve’s wing blades and stroking along the place where his wings sprout from his back. The other trails down Steve’s back to settle at the base of his tail again, and Steve can’t help the sharp exhalation of breath the sensation punches out of him, or the way his hips rock forward into the space between Eddie’s thighs, even though it offers almost no friction.

Steve presses forward so close to Eddie that the barbells through Eddie’s nipples hook through the rings dangling from Steve’s own.

They both let out twinned cries of shock as their hooked jewelry tugs at both of their chests. Eddie drops his face into the crook of Steve’s neck, hips jerking more erratically as the jewelry in his chest pulls with a steady tension, and Steve begins to press a second finger into his opening.

“Fuck, Theo. You feel so good around me. Around my fingers. On my tail. With your hands on my back. Want to love you so hard.” Steve curls his fingers forward, brushing over the bundle of nerves buried there. Eddie grunts and thrusts forwards, pressing his weeping dick to the solid plane of Steve’s abs. “Want to blot out the sun for you,” he vows. “Stop the next day from coming—and every day after. We can stay just like this. All night. And all night can be all time. I can keep you here just like you keep me. D’you want that?” Steve feels like he’s set his heart out on a silver platter. Waits for Eddie to pick it up and devour.

Eddie nods into Steve's neck, now growing damp with tears. “Yeah. I want that, Angel. Want you to stop time for me.”

Steve makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest, desperate to be inside his lover now. But even though Eddie’s tolerance for pain is high, two fingers and some spit isn’t nearly enough to take him, and Steve doesn’t want to make his cock any smaller. He wants to split his pet open wide around him. Wants to drive him out of his mind with the perfect feeling of fullness that this cock alone can grant him.

“You’re doing so good for me, pet,” Steve gasps, pressing another spit-and-venom-slick finger to Eddie’s opening.

“Thank you, Master,” Eddie sobs.

The muscles of Eddie’s rim clench and flutter around Steve’s fingers in steady patterns. Steve pulls his hand back slowly, and as it draws back it shifts green and gold and black again, nails lengthening and thickening back into sharp claws.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me,” Eddie chants, rocking his hips in Steve’s lap as he whispers his pleas into the side of Steve's neck. A part of Steve wants to punish him for speaking out of turn. For thinking he’s earned the right to demand anything from Steve. But Steve can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing right now, so he wraps his clawed hands around his lover's hips, digging in so that his talons and fingers dig into pale flesh and leave bruises and pinpricks of blood littering the surface. Eddie gasps—the sound pulled out of him like he’s been woken from a deep sleep—as Steve bodily lifts him, positioning his stretched-out hole over Steve’s dick, and watching him sink like a stone onto it.

Eddie has lost all control of his limbs. Sits in the cradle of Steve’s arms and lap limply as Steve rolls his hips up and begins to set a slow pace between them. Their piercings are still hooked together. Every thrust that’s just a little too forceful pushes a surprised burst of air and laughter from one or the other of them.

Eddie’s hands continue their idle petting over Steve’s back, clenching against the base of his tail, stroking over the place where his wings meet his back. Steve trembles, a constant stream of soft breathy sighs that sound desperate to his own ears slipping out between his lips. He feels light all over. High on his lover’s touch. So much feeling and sensation that Steve can feel it start to leak out of him.

He pulls away from Eddie with a gasp when he feels the place where their chests meet begin to grow damp. The barbells studding Eddie's chest slip free from the hoops of Steve’s own with a painful twist. Eddie cries out, ragged and shocked. Steve echoes the sound in ecstasy.

Eddie’s head is still hidden in the side of his neck, but when Steve looks down at his own chest he can see his tits have grown heavy and swollen, nipples leaking milk all over him and the tip of his dick is forming a bulge in Eddie's belly. The sight is overwhelming, and Steve vibrates with the gravelly rumble that passes through him as he bucks up into his pet with punching thrusts.

“You’ve made another mess of me, love.” Steve whispers, low and dark, in Eddie’s ear.

Eddie doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything in response. Makes a small questioning sound into the side of Steve’s throat and pushes further into him. Steve pulls him back by the hair, forcing Eddie to look down at where he’s dripping from his chest. “You gonna clean this one up too, pet?”

Eddie answers by dipping his head down wordlessly and pulling a nipple into his mouth. His tongue pokes through the ring and tugs—pulling a yelp free from Steve's throat—before his wet mouth engulfs a dusky brown nipple. Eddie suckles at it gently, moaning as the taste hits his tongue. He swallows Steve’s milk down, and his chest aches as he feels it tugging through his ducts. His lover pulling his essence from him with greedy teeth and tongue and lip.

Steve could stay here forever. Gorging himself while he feeds his lover. Fucking his fill while his heart beats in his chest at a steady pace. A slow drumbeat of affection. All he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears, Eddie’s whining moans against his chest. Not even the crickets or the wind enter his awareness. Wings folded around them, all there is in Stephanotis’ world is himself, and his pet. His love. Greedy and divine.

Eddie’s head grows heavy against his chest, and Steve takes all of his weight into his arms. He’s still fucking into him, soft and slow. Not in any rush to chase after his release. Time passes without measure, but after a while the breast Eddie is latched to runs dry, and Steve coaxes him free to meet his gaze.

His lover's eyes are heavy-lidded and dazed. He looks like he’s floating high above and far away, and the only reason Steve wants to bring him back down to earth is to have him in his arms.

But Steve can fly. He can meet him where he’s at.

Eddie’s breaths come in shivery gasps, and he seems unaware of the way he’s rutting forward, seeking friction against his flushed red cock.

Steve takes mercy on him, reaching down to curl a scaled claw around his length. Eddie hisses at the way the scales catch along the sensitive skin of his shaft. His hands keep roaming over Steve's body—now following the curve of feather and wing. Stroking along the bones that run through the body of them. Petting carefully at the feathers that tinkle and glitter around them.

Steve strokes his hand over Eddie’s length with a tightening grip as he feels the pressure in his own groin grow tighter and tighter. He feels ready to burst apart. Explode into a cloud of gas and light and stardust. Twin stars on the way to collapse. Steve scrapes the talon of his thumb across the head of Eddie’s cock and his pet screams, long and drawn out, voice going hoarse as he comes and comes, white spunk spurting from the tip of his cock and drenching Steve’s hand. His hole tightens and clenches around Steve’s thick length, and Steve breaks, following him over the edge.

Steve bucks his hips restlessly as the knot at the base of his dick swells and ties them together, and his cum keeps pumping into his lover—making him full and bloated on Steve's love.

Steve tightens his wings around them, blocking out the moonlight. He brings the hand covered in his lover’s release to his mouth and licks it away carefully, groaning at how his love tastes on his skin; stuck in the webbing of his fingers.

Eddie stays curled against his chest, head resting over Steve’s heart.

“I missed you,” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s hair, brushing a hand through it. “The house is too quiet when you’re away.”

Eddie looks out from under the curtain of his hair, blinking up at Steve slowly. “What if you come with me next time?” His words are slow and sleep-soft.

“Oh, Theo.” A melancholic note bleeds into Steve's tone, and he drops a gentle kiss on Eddie’s temple. “Thought you didn’t want to share me?”

Eddie rubs his forehead along the crook of Steve’s shoulder, leaving two quick kisses on what Steve knows to be Eddie’s favorite scales. “You could be asleep the whole time. Could put you on display during the shows.” Eddie trails a line of kisses down Steve’s clavicle. “Everyone can see.” Noses at the pick hanging at Steve's throat. “No one can touch.”

“If you think I’m letting anyone get their hands on you while I’m right there—“

Eddie wiggles in Steve’s lap, shoots him a devilish grin. “We can find a club. Put you in a corner. You can watch as everyone has their way with me.”

Steve growls, fisting a hand in Eddie’s hair. “Careful, pet. Doesn’t look like you’re up for another round.”

Eddie whines, hips rocking restlessly in Steve’s lap. “Please, Angel.”

“Shh, settle.” Steve tucks a strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear. “Let’s get you to bed, love. You must be tired.” Steve loops his arms around Eddie’s thighs and lifts him as he rises, careful not to drop him and tug his knot free. Eddie’s head rests against his shoulder, and his arms come up to loosely circle Steve’s neck. Steve unfurls his wings from the cocoon around them, letting them hang at rest as he makes his way to the staircase that leads to the master bedroom.

When they get to the room, Steve settles at the edge of the bed, keeping Eddie tucked against him like the favored pet he is. “You’re so good for me, Theo,” Steve purrs. They both trace idle patterns into the other’s skin, Steve careful to keep his touch light so as not to break skin—especially while Eddie’s blood is thinner from the venom still working its way through his system. Steve considers switching his hands back to human form, but knows that even when they’ve finished playing, Eddie still revels in the edge of danger Steve’s touch carries.

Steve wants to ask how the tour went. Wants updates on everything the band did and saw together. A jealous corner of his heart wants to hear what he and their backup guitarist got up to on the road—Steve has suspicions of the man’s true nature that he’s chosen to keep close to the chest, but if Eddie is going to bring him along the next time around, that may be a door he has to open. The hungering instincts of his base nature want to feed on the stories of Eddie's exploits with fans and groupies. Theodore Munson has such a beguiling nature for a mere human, and Steve always sucks down recollections of his hedonistic adventures with ravenous delight.

But Eddie is close to snoring on his shoulder. Still has a thick cock shoved up and knotted inside him, and looks like he could do with a bite to eat. Catching up can happen later.

When the swell of Steve’s knot finally recedes Eddie is fully dozing on his shoulder, a thin trail of drool forming there. Steve carefully pulls his love off his softened length, watching with rapt fascination as his cum began to seep out of him. Eddie whines in complaint, eyes blinking open as Steve arranges him on the bed. “Don’ wan'you to leave, Phan,” Eddie mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll be right back. You won’t even miss me.”

Eddie grumbles, turning onto his side. “Always miss you.”

Steve chuckles as he steps away, crossing the room to the cabinet where he keeps all their supplies. When he comes back he uses two human fingers to carefully scoop the cum that has started to trail down the back of Eddie’s legs back into his gaping wide hole. Eddie groans, nuzzling into the pillow underneath him.

“I know you want to stay full of me. Want me to stopper you up with my love. Wake up slick and wet and open from my cock and cum so I can just slip inside you again? Or maybe I’ll use you while you're still aslumber. You still owe me an orgasm or two to even things out, pet.”

Eddie moans. There are few things he enjoys more than the sensation of waking to Steve fucking into him.

Steve smiles and presses a soft kiss to the knob at the top of Eddie’s spine, before slipping a thick, golden plug into him. Inlaid at its base is a smaragd jewel that catches and shines like Steve’s eyes in the light.

Though Eddie says it’s impossible for any jewel to compare.

Once the plug is in place, Steve picks up the damp cloth he’d collected and wipes carefully at the trails of dried cum there. With a second cloth he cleans away any and all traces of blood on Eddie’s chest, ass, and thighs, gently smoothing antibacterial cream over them as he goes.

When all is said and done, Eddie is a soupy mess in their shared bedsheets. But it still isn’t enough for Steve. He climbs onto the bed and gathers Eddie into his arms, so his back is flush to Steve’s chest. Steve grabs the glass of water he'd deposited on the bedside table and carefully presses it to Eddie’s lips, encouraging him to take a sip.

“Go on, drink up, love.”

Eddie gulps it down with giant, greedy swigs, gasping when he gets to the end and letting out a small burp and satisfied exhale.

Steve laughs, and grabs the snack bar he’d brought from the cabinet and hands that over to Eddie as well. “You’re so good for me, Theo.”

Eddie leans his head back against Steve’s shoulder with a dopey smile. “Not doin’ anything, Phan.”

Steve drags a knuckle up and down the length of Eddie’s arms and whispers, almost to himself. “You’re letting me take care of you.” Steve sweeps the hair away from the back of Eddie’s neck and presses a kiss to his nape. “There’s a time when you wouldn’t even have let me try.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Hard to trust a demon.”

Steve chuckles. “Oh no, pet, it’s easy to trust a demon. You know exactly what they want. It’s hard to trust someone that loves you. They’ll surprise you every time.”

Eddie turns in the circle of Steve’s arms and stares at him intently. “You’re the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

A tear slips down Steve’s face unbidden, and he spares half a moment to wonder what color it is. To question after its source. He smiles back, wistful and fond. “And you, mine, Theo.”

The moon fades behind the clouds, and light begins to creep along the horizon. And an angel and his monster fall asleep.

A/N: I genuinely went a bit crazy while writing this, and I've got lots of ideas for other fics in this universe, so watch this space for more demon!Steve filth and devotion 😈

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #monster steve harrington #read writes #10k of some of the most haunting smut i've ever written #i'm genuinely so proud of it though <3

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hyunip · 4 months

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ℳ 𝒶 𝓈 𝓉 ℯ 𝓇 𝓁 𝒾 𝓈 𝓉：AOT

Onyankopon//Cloud 9 High (pt.2 of distraction), Flight To The Clouds, Distraction, Patience, Call The Doctor, Distraction pt.3, Ex Men, 2 Women 2 Men, Those Eyes

Eren//Princess Peach, Lips Of A Drug, Princess Peach pt.2, Mommy, Best Friend, Myths, Crystal Tears Over The Phone, Ex Men, Creature, Nasty, In My Mouth, Princess Peach pt.2

Armin//Good Luck Charm, Future Angels, Gentleman, Bitch, Secrets, Future Angels pt.2, Sleep Talkin’, Level Up, Strip, Billion Dollar Woman, Irresistible Pleasure, Ex Men, Killer Stare

Connie//Say My Name, Weed, Wolve's Attack, Needed Me, Heaven, Love Me Until I'm Sore, Bitch Boy, Mommy And Daddy, Ex Men, 2 Women 2 Men, Brainy Baby, Fuck You: Left

Ymir//Angels In Tibet, Private Sessions, Angles, Gentleman, Pinky Pie, Slut Me Out, Money Talks, "Golden" Daughter, Soft Heart, Ex Men, 2 Women 2 Men, Trouble Mama, Focused

ℳ 𝒶 𝓈 𝓉 ℯ 𝓇 𝓁 𝒾 𝓈 𝓉：J J K

Choso// Class In Session, Approval, Marriage Plans, Fairytale, A Whore In Love, Momma He's Not The One, Chills, Cold glare, Hot Summer Days, Weed And Giggles, Myths, Ex Men, Breakfast In Bed

Gojo// Interest, Gentlemen, A Whore In Love, Be Gentle I'm Sore, Tears Of Gold, Ex Men, Texts, Horrified Kisses, Hot Chocolate, Breakfast In Bed, Scratch My Back, Dinner

Nanami// Speed City, Gentlemen, Ice Ice Baby, Christmas Gift, Happy Belated Birthday, Daddy Energy, Ex Men, Hop Skip And Jump, Slow Down, Swin, Hot Tub Fun, Pain, Cry For Me, Ex Husband, In and Out

Todo// Model Babe, Timing, Ex Men, Fireman, A Secret, Bubbles, Shower, Handy Helper, Kitchen Chronicles, Messy, Your Problems Are Mine, Baby By Me, Reflect And Forgive, Mystery Mother Fucker,

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3rdgymbros · 3 years

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— title; your world fell apart the day your love left you.

— pairing; crepus ragnvindr x reader (platonic diluc ragnvindr x reader, platonic kaeya alberich x reader)

— summary; in which diluc and kaeya are unable to answer you when you demand to know where their father is.

The house is warm and bright. It had echoed with children, with the sound of laughter. Always there, never changing. Two parents, a happy marriage, homemade cookies waiting with creamy milk, kisses and bandages for small injuries, stories at bedtime. There had always been a kettle singing on the stove, always something delicious cooking, flowers in vases all year round.

Even now, with your two sons grown, it’s still the same. The house is still full of food, warmth, beautiful objects. Idyllic and perfect. A haven, a safe place for your family.

You hum the first bars to a song stuck in your head, your step lightening even as you flit around the kitchen in a flurry of busy hands and feet. You’ve all but demanded that the staff take the day off, intent on preparing for Diluc’s birthday dinner on your own. You’ve made one of your specialities, rotisserie chicken and cheese, wrapped up in seasoned flatbread. It sits upon a tray, waiting to be popped into the oven, warm and ready for when your family returns.

If Crepus were here, you know that he would join you, singing along in his deep baritone, twirling you around the kitchen. And you would laugh, delighted. He would sweep you off your feet and into a dance, both of you singing and laughing. Diluc and Kaeya might peer in, fondly exasperated, and Kaeya might even poke his tongue out in disgust, a childish habit he’s never been able to get rid off.

A key scrapes in the lock.

The front door is pushed open.

You can hear two sets of footsteps. Walking through the expansive living area with its squashy ivory sofas, past the gleaming piano and the antiques carefully mixed with modern pieces, and into the sugar-perfumed kitchen.

For a brief moment, you think it odd that Crepus hasn’t announced his arrival as he always has, with a sweetly affectionate nickname – darling, love, angel – but you think that any minute now, you’ll be picked up, whirled around in his arms, with your feet flying out behind you. And you’ll smile, and scold him, with no real heat to your voice, and you might even press a kiss or two to the corner of his mouth.

“Are those my boys?” You ask, a smile in your voice. You’re still preoccupied with the cake, and you allow yourself to feel a spark of pride at your creation. It’s an incredible thing, towering with white icing and scattered with sugared rose petals. “Dinner’s almost ready – And Kaeya, if I catch you pinching food, so help me –”

The answering silence is chilling, and tightens all the vertebrae in your spine. You know immediately that something is wrong, and you sense that a line has been crossed, and nothing will ever be the same again.

Your hands are still clutching the packet of candles when you turn your head. Your boys are there. Fear slithers in your gut, a sense of foreboding rises in your stomach. You’ve never seen them look so desolate, so utterly broken. Kaeya’s face could be carved from ice. His eyes are rimmed with red, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes. Diluc’s face is as grey as death, with deep shadows in all the angles and planes of his breath-taking face, so much like his father. The bleakness in his eyes frightens you. There’s no life in him. Pressing the backs of your fingers to your lips to hide the fact that they’re quivering, you have to fight back your own tears. You’re a parent after all, and your sons are your priority. With that thought in mind, you take a step forward, your insides wrenching, all your instincts being called upon to soothe and protect and reassure.

Then your eyes fall upon Diluc’s hands, the once white gloves adorned with red, blooming poppies.

His birthday gift, you think distantly. You had given them to him in the morning. And Diluc’s face had been so radiant as he’d pressed a kiss to your cheek in delight.

“Diluc. Kaeya.” You say, on a voice that is not so much breaking as is already broken. “Where is your father?”

Diluc’s face crumples on the start of a cry.

#crepus ragnvindr #crepus ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact #gi #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact reader inserts #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact headcanons #♥ || sam writes.

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atinymommy · 3 years

Text

𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒔 ༄ 𝒋𝒉𝒔

🍼 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ — JUNG HOSEOK; j-hope

☁️. . . ⇢ happy hobi day! i'm aware that this is a new years au but let's just not talk about it ok? difnfkskdkcj✧ ೃ༄

╰┈➤ cussing; MAJOR teasing;

nipple stim; hickeys; groping;

grinding; pegging;

fingering; slight exhibitionism;

degrading; aftercare;

petnames

(a/n: die is the plural of dice, just to avoid confusion lmao nobody dies in this story wodncnsjsj)

"i hope you're ready." you teased, smirking, as you shook the two cubes in your fist before rolling them over the table. both pairs of eyes hawked over each side the die rolled onto, until it came to a stop. it was hard to miss the smile that quivered at hoseok's lips.

both of you were intoxicated. the intention was only to celebrate being roommates for a year while it was moments before the clock struck into 2021. this had started two hours ago and ended up being a lot more than just two people rejoicing in abiding under the same roof.

hoseok had started talking about this game his friends had bought him for his birthday, with the biggest flush of red marking his cheeks and ears. you've always thought he was the cutest. he was the best roommate you could've ever asked for, and honestly a really good friend too.

which is how you both had ended up on the floor, snacking on some junk food and sipping on some alcoholic beverages. tonight you two had gotten as honest and open you probably ever will. hobi told you that he didn't date much because he didn't like the pressure of being the one to take charge. you nodded, agreeing with him about how frustrating the role men have to play in relationships are. two opposites ranting over the same topic.

"okay, got ahead." hoseok giggled as he removed his sock and wiggled his toes in your face. if you weren't under the influence, you would have found this less comedic and definitely wouldn't have popped one of his toes into your mouth for a mere millisecond. "that was by far the weirdest sensation i've ever felt." his face was red with laughter.

weakly you reached for the die and strewed them over the tabletop.

the laughter died out and the both of you just stared at each other - the die engendering a thick room as either of you processed the outcome. "w-we don't have to play anymore if you don't want to..." hobi's usually stentorian voice thinning at the end of his suggestion.

possibly it was his sudden shy behaviour around you or the lack of sincerity in his voice when he spoke those words but you drew closer to him, bringing your face directly in front of his. "why? are you scared, hobi?" you taunted, observing his eyes widen and the air caught in his throat. slowly you brought your lips to his ear, whispering, "unless you want to stop..."

hoseok closed his eyes and went for it. your taunting tone mocking him into acting on his true desires in that moment. he did as the die had dared him and he began nibbling on your neck, hearing you gasp lowly in his ear motivated him. when you ran your fingers through his hair was when he began to suck harshly, causing you to tug at his roots and moan as he brought blood up to the surface.

he pulled away, needing to refill his lungs and to evaluate the marks against your skin. you, yourself, wanted to see so you looked for your phone and opened your camera. smirking, you touched the area along your pulse. "not bad for someone who didn't want to play."

you put your phone away and hobi was already throwing the dice again.

the male gasped when he read them. lick + nipples.

"i-i don't kn-ow, y/n..." the male seemed unsure and fidgety, but the hard on in his pants betrayed him.

"i'll show you mine if you show me yours?" you suggested, to which he nodded in agreement to. both of you folded your fingers under the hems of your shirts, anticipating. "one.."

"two... three." you lifted your shirt over your head, throwing the clothing item aside, and looked over to hoseok. your eyes took him in for a moment. your heart was racing at the thought of him eating up every crevice and bump on your body but, thankfully, your mind was too fogged and occupied at the moment. instinctively you reached for him, feeling his heart beat under your hands as you roamed his chest slowly, and he just gazed up at you.

you took his face in your hands, locking eyes with him and seriously informed him, "if you want to stop, tell me." he only smiled at you and lightheartedly replied with, "don't ruin my fantasy now."

this ignited you. hobi openly admitting having sexual thoughts about you made you go feral.

hastily you pulled him down onto the floor until he was under you and you brought your lips down to his collarbone, you littered kisses along it before making your way to his buds. your hand massaged his side as you flicked over his nipple. his made him gasp.

hoseok shut his eyes and allowed you to do as you wanted with him. he lay there, whimpering when your flattened your tongue against the sensitive nub. he bit his lip when you blew cold air over the now wet area before you teasingly kitten licked the other nipple. he moaned, throwing his head back and began squirming under you. you sat up, straddling him, with a smirk. "did you like it that much?"

"too bad it's over." he heaved, trying to catch his breath again.

smiling, you got off of hobi and found your way back to the die. you rolled them once again. you could sense the boy's relief with the probability that had played out as he went back to sitting on the couch.

massage + ass.

you crawled onto hoseok's lap, placing your knees on either side of him and he cupped your ass. he lightly rubbed over your jeans, feeling unsure of himself and slightly awkward.

"c-could you take your jeans off? you can s-say no." he looked away from you, glancing to the side at a low angle. his cheeks felt numb with all the blood rushing to them.

you stood, reaching for your button and removing the bottoms. he only stared at your feet, where you kicked away the clothing, and felt too shy to see you. just his imagination was enough to build this tent in his pants, he couldn't imagine how his body would react if he could eat up every inch of you.

unfortunately for him, you weren't having it. "look at me," you scowled, folding your arms and leaned onto your hip. hesitantly he obeyed and ran his eyes over your figure. hobi couldn't help himself when the whimper left his lips and his cock twitched. "shit..." he whispered lowly to himself in awe.

you inched onto his lap again, comfortably avoiding his boner, and his hands naturally traced up your thighs.

"this is by far the most uncomfortable thing i've done this year." he mentioned as he began to knead your ass. rolling your eyes, you leaned towards him and captured his lips with yours. while running your fingers over the nape of his neck, you pushed down onto his heat. hoseok moaned into you, squeezing you harder.

he felt a tingle in his body and your movements fogged his mind. his thoughts had left him. all the knew was you.

you waited until his eyes shut to pull away. smirking, you casually walked back to the table where the die lay. hobi groaned loudly, flexing his thighs in frustration, "you are the biggest fucking tease!"

chuckling, you threw the die. butterflies fluttered in your stomach when they land on suck + thigh.

"hmmm, i'm going to enjoy this." you taunted, watching him read over the two words etched into the plastic cubes. hoseok gulped, for the tenth time in the last half-hour.

his hands trembled as he took off the last item of his outfit — only leaving him in his underwear, just as you were. he only sat there, blushing aggressively, as you oogled over him. you appreciated his sculpted legs, softer tummy and broad shoulders. "so that's what you've been hiding under there this whole time, angel?" he was taken aback by the petname. it made him even more excited.

"p-please touch me, mommy." hobi pleaded, biting his lip to hold back tears. he was so overwhelmed. he just wanted to be yours in this very moment. all he could think was you.

slowly, you crawled over to him on the floor. "since you asked so nicely, i think i might." you could see the relief on hoseok's face.

you pushed his knees apart, getting a full view of the lewd sight before you. he mewled and tried to cover himself up but you swatted his hands away. "don't hide my property from me," you snapped. "this pathetic cock is mine. you are mine." the male felt weak; just from a few words he felt as though he could cum right then and there.

he moaned when you began placing hot kisses along his inner thigh, lightly brushing your nose against his heat before moving away again. hoseok's muscles contracted under your touch while you sucked on the inner most sensitive area and he let out a throaty moan as you massaged his bulge. "ah~ yesss- t-hank you-"

you removed his boxers. his cock straightened out and met his abdomen with a light slap. hobi pulsed between his legs, and you were about to lick his flared tip when he called out, "no! wait! ah~ i-i neeeeed you. let me f-eel you mommy! p-please! i've been a good boy!" he was whiny and desperate.

this was a sight you never thought you would have seen in a million years: your roommate spread out on the couch in front of you, naked, and begging you to fuck him. you weren't complaining either.

"stay here." you demanded while you made your way into your room and scratched for your strap in your drawer. the few minutes it took for you to put it on and return, the time felt twice as long for hoseok.

you spun the male around, pushing him forward and telling him to lean onto the back of the couch. obediently he got into position, rolling his hips back to show you his puckered hole. grabbing the lube, you lathered your strap and fingers in it before slowly sliding one finger into him. he sighed in bliss, wrapping himself around you as you reached your knuckle. "m-more!" he cried out to you.

adding another finger, you began to finger him. he moaned and hunched over the furniture. "yes~ ah- it feels so good mommy." he panted.

you scissored your fingers until you felt him stretched enough. he whimpered with how empty he felt without your fingers. it wasn't long until you eased your strap into his tight hole.

hoseok arched his back and curled his toes as he swallowed you up. you snapped your hips into him suddenly, resulting in the the loudest and most unholy sound to emit from hobi. his whole body fell forward as you pounded into him. he had to hold onto the couch as you railed him.

you felt sympathetic towards your neighbours since the walls weren't soundproof at all but that didn't bother hoseok. his moans filled the whole floor probably.

your nails dug into his hips as you pulled him back while your hips rocked forward. hobi felt so wonderfully out out control as he surrendered his body to you — to use, love and bruise.

out of the blue, his phone buzzed as namjoon's caller id popped up. smirking, you passed it to him without losing your pace and dared him, "you should answer it."

"y-you're lit-erally fucking railing m-me! no!"

"be a good boy and try not to let him know what a slut you are." you sneaked over his shoulder and tapped the answer button. alarmed, hoseok put the phone to his ear, trying to keep his breathing far from suspicion. he bit his lip in an attempt to hold back his moans.

"hello?"

"hey! look, the clock is about to turn into the new year and i just wanted to say i love you man..." hobi tried his best to focus but his body betrayed him as a knot began to form in his stomach. he wasn't listening to his friend anymore. he shut his eyes as his high approached, and moaned softly enough for it to not be picked up on the phone.

"i- i- fuck!" hobi tried to talk to him but his thighs were trembling as you continued to hammer his prostate. he unexpectedly moaned the loudest he had that evening, as his cock spewed all over the couch. "mommy!"

you leaned over and whispered into his ear. "you couldn't help but let everyone know who's fucking you this good, could you, kitten? couldn't even ask for permission?" he whined in reply, too weak to answer you.

"hello? j-hope are you okay? hey!" you snatched the phone from the lump of a man hobi had been turned into and pulled out of him gently as you walked away. "hey joon, hoseok isn't feeling too well. he had too much to drink. sorry about that."

"oh okay, i'll call again tomorrow. i mean later." you glanced at the clock and it was true. hoseok came into the new year.

(a/n: don't come for me😭😭😭😭 that was an impeccable joke right there🤡😎)

"alright then, happy new year joons." you greeted.

"happy new year, 'mommy'." he teased before hanging up.

immediately you rushed to hoseok who was still in the same position you left him and carried him into his room. "shhh you did so good. i'm so proud to have an angel like you. what did i do to deserve you, hm? i didn't mean it when i called you those names. you mean so much to me."

hobi smiled at you, half asleep, and whined for you to cuddle him. and you did just that.

#sub!hobi #sub!j-hope #sub!hoseok #sub!bts #fem!dom #bangtan seonyandan #bangtan boys #sub!male #mommy kink #smut #new years #jung hoseok #hobi #hoseok #j-hope #kpop #kpop bg #bts

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dcbutinamrev · 3 years

Note

*bonk* i’m also sending you a few prompts for a lams shot :)

26, 28, & 34 perhaps?

Of course bestie!!!

Modern au with of course, their historical appearances. (I'll add 28 and 34 tomorrow- )

26: "I've been in love with you for an embarrassingly long time."

~~~

Nineteen year old high school student and football star and your typical Prince Charming type, whoops and hollers along with his friends who have been with him since Freshman: Richard Kidder Meade, Tench Tilghman, Robert Hanson Harrison, John Fitzgerald along with Benjamin Tallmadge bursts through the Washington Cafe in downtown Manhattan on a clear Friday afternoon.

Eighteen year old Alexander Hamilton sits on a stool behind the counter, waiting for customers to approach to take their orders. He huffs out a breath, glancing around the non-busy cafe, watching customers doing work on their laptops, taking occasional sips of their drinks or munching on their pastries, listening to distant conversation. His foster father, who also happens to be his teacher as well, George Washington would work in the back where the Manager Office is but he's currently finishing up some documentation and paper work at the school, his older foster brother Gilbert Marquis de Lafayette works in the kitchen and takes the orders to the right customers, while Hamilton sits by himself, alone, at the cashier with a violet apron around his black short-sleeved shirt and black jeans. Hamilton's striking dark red hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, a few curls falling in front of his ears and bouncing slightly on his forehead.

"Anything?" Lafayette asks as he pokes his head through the cracked door to the kitchen.

Hamilton shakes his head, resting his cheek in his palm as he turns to gaze out the windows. "Notta."

"Hm," is all Lafayette says before he slams the door shut and continues working.

Hamilton sighs again, shaking his head before finally, out of mere boredom, pulls out his phone from his back pocket, scrolling lazily through his socials.

"Uh...excuse me?" a distinctly southern voice says, snapping Hamilton out of his distant, far off look.

Hamilton yelps with surprise, whipping his head back and forth before finally landing on, let's be honest here, his crush since Freshman--John Laurens--stands before him. Hamilton tenses when he sees the beautiful, angelic man before him. He breathes in slowly, holding his breath when his violet-indigo blue eyes lands on bright summer blue ones.

Is it hot in here or is that just me? Hamilton thinks, furrowing his brows slightly.

"Yes...?" Hamilton asks after a few moments of silence, clicking his phone off before sliding it back into his pocket and turning to face the blonde man before him. Hamilton stares at the man's hair. It's bright, rich in color and looks like silk. Smooth and flowy, almost the color of honey. Hamilton suddenly wishes to touch the boy's hair.

Laurens glances at his friends behind him, who nod encouragingly with unusually bright smiles. Laurens clears his throat, turning back towards Hamilton who now has his arms crossed over his chest and his head tipped back, an eyebrow raised challengingly and expectantly at the same time.

Laurens presses his lips together and scratches the back of his neck. "I um..." He clears his throat. "I um...can I talk with you...for a moment?"

Hamilton hesitates, glancing over his shoulder where he sees Lafayette in the small rectangular window, hissing out a curse in French. Hamilton grimaces when he hears something clatter onto the floor before turning back to Laurens.

"I don't talk to strangers," Hamilton says.

Laurens chuckles. "Cheeky. You know I'm not a stranger, Alexander. I've known you since Freshman. And we're both in the same classes together." A pause. "English--with Mr. Washington--Biology, Calculus, Theatre, Band--"

"I know, John," Hamilton giggles.

"Then why--?"

"You know how my brother is," Hamilton interrupts, leaning forward with his arms crossed over his chest. "Especially with people like you. Even if he knows who you are."

Laurens ticks his eyes at the kitchen door behind Hamilton's shoulders before turning back towards Hamilton, nodding reassuringly. "It'll be quick. I promise."

Hamilton sets his mouth and sets his jaw, giving Laurens a look.

Laurens tosses both hands up. "Just...five minutes. That's all..."

Hamilton glances over his shoulder a second--or third--time before huffing out a breath and nodding, sliding off the stool and following Laurens towards the male's bathroom nonetheless.

Hamilton furrows his brows as he follows Laurens, his brows furrowing together and tensing when he sees Laurens swings open the bathroom door. He's noticed things like this in movies. In his peripheral, he can see Laurens's friends nodding eagerly and flashing him bright smiles with thumbs up.

Laurens slams the door shut after shoving Hamilton into the bathroom. Hamilton stands just a few feet behind Laurens, watching him carefully with his arms crossed still over his chest, an eyebrow raised as he tenses at Laurens's every move.

"Relax, it's not Hollywood," Laurens says, mirroring Hamilton's position and leaning against the white sink. Hamilton simply gives him an untrusting look. Laurens sighs, defeated. "I...I wanted to talk to you. Privately. For a reason."

"And that is...what...to murder me?" Hamilton whispers, taking another step back.

Laurens shakes his head. "No! I told you, Ginger, this isn't Hollywood!"

"Then why else would you have--"

"If you would just shut up, Ginger, and listen to me then perhaps you'll find out yourself," Laurens snaps, raising an eyebrow.

Hamilton rightfully clicks his mouth shut. Laurens nods curtly once.

"Good," Laurens says. "Anyways, I brought you here so I won't make a fool of myself in front of the boys."

Hamilton just simply gapes at him confusedly and suspiciously,

"I um..." Laurens clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He pulls something from the back of his pocket, causing Hamilton to stiffen. Hamilton relaxes instantly when he sees the boy hand him a simple sheet of paper. "...Happy birthday, Alex..."

Hamilton's birthday was last week, Janurary 11. Hamilton eyes the paper before snatching it from Laurens's hands. He unfolds the crinkling paper and his eyes widen instantly. Laurens smiles as Hamilton holds a small box now and lifts the lid, revealing a necklace.

"It was my mother's..." Laurens says, breaking the silence between them.

Hamilton whips his head sharply at Laurens's direction, his eyes wide as his fingers fiddle with the silver chain, the small silver heart resting in his palm.

"She uh...she told me...that if..." Laurens clears his throat, taking a step closer to Hamilton. "She told me that...that if I...if I had found true love...then...this is theirs."

Hamilton's breath hitches in his throat, making Laurens's small smile grow wider as he nods with confirmation.

"Alexander...Alex...we've been friends for months, years even and...well...since you've walked onto those steps at the school... I uh...I've just been...I don't know...I just--"

Laurens's words are suddenly cut off when he feels soft lips against his. He stiffens, unsure what to do, his shoulders up to his ears and his hands hover in the air by Hamilton's elbows. He stares down at Hamilton wide-eyed, shocked by the sudden action, but melts into his embrace after a few minutes.

Laurens shifts around so both of his hands now rest on Hamilton's hips, shifting around again so he's even more taller than he was before, dipping his head down and at an angle to capture those beautiful soft, pink lips of this unique redheaded boy from the depths of the Caribbean.

Laurens grins when he hears Hamilton sigh lightly as they slowly pull apart, breathing sharply, their foreheads touch, chest nearly touching. Hamilton scoffs out a laugh, tipping his head back up to meet Laurens once more, brushing a loose strand of honey blonde hair behind his ear, resting his hand under Laurens's jaw.

"John--"

"Jack," Laurens says.

"What?" Hamilton gasps, eyebrows high and deep violet eyes dilated.

"Jack," Laurens says again. "My family calls me Jack."

Hamilton feels the corner of his lips quirk up. "Am I family?"

Laurens smiles wide, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind Hamilton's ear. "You...you are something more...than family."

A pause.

"Jack...I...I've been in love with you for an embarrassingly long time..." Hamilton confesses, a shy smile on his face.

Laurens grins, leaning down to steal a kiss.

"So have I."

*Bonus under the cut!*

A few weeks later...

"Uh...John?" Hamilton says as he sits with Laurens and the boys at a table, discussing random things like class work or homework or football or crushes or gamers. Hamilton now sits upon Laurens's lap, Laurens's arms around his waist.

"Hm?" Laurens questions, raising an eyebrow as he rests his chin on the back of Hamilton's shoulder.

"Um...how am I...how are we going to tell Gil about us...?"

"Uh...we won't," Laurens says. "Not unless you're ready, my dear boy."

Hamilton hums, giggling softly before pressing a kiss to Laurens's lips.

Hamilton doesn't know how long it's been since they've began kissing but Hamilton knows they're now almost to the point of making out against the booth, the others groaning, complaining and shielding their eyes, when he hears a sharp shriek.

Hamilton tenses and pulls off, fixing the collar of his shirt before whipping his head over his shoulder to find his brother standing behind him. Hamilton and Laurens both pale.

"JOHN FUCKING LAURENS! Get the fuck off my baby brother right now!" Lafayette barks.

"I'm dead aren't I...?" Laurens whispers into Hamilton's ear.

Hamilton nods, never taking his eyes off of Lafayette's. "You are so dead, babe."

"BABE?!" Lafayette shrieks.

"Well, I'll uh...I'll see you after school, yeah?" Laurens whispers.

Hamilton nods. "Yeah..."

"Keep the change," Laurens says, slapping a twenty into Lafayette's palm before patting his shoulder before bolting out of the door.

Lafayette turns his sharp, intimidating gaze before turning to face Hamilton, who shrinks and grimaces.

"Uh...I can explain?"

Lafayette simply stares at Hamilton, his protective instincts getting the best of him as he mumbles something incoherently under his breath in French before stomping out of the room.

Hamilton let's out a sharp breath.

He has never felt that terrified around his brother before.

Ever.

After a few minutes of silence, Meade breaks it.

"Well...that escalated quickly."

#asks #ask liz #liz writes #prompts #writing promts #historical lams #lams #lams fic #ficlet #fluff #alexander hamilton #john laurens #washington's aides #marquis de lafayette #protective lafayette is yes #bedtime now #i am so exhausted #lee!

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

Text

intro: her mini #6 ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: none really, reader n joon r incredibly sappy and i both hate n love them, there's some kissing but rly this is just soft fluffiness uwu

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: i lowkey hate half of this but yolo it is what it is

⏤ beta read by my girlfriend @peekaboongi // commissioned in exchange for blm donations

⇥ Main Series Masterlist

On Hoseok’s birthday, you find yourself on a private yacht in order to celebrate. As usual, you’re surrounded by Namjoon, his sons, as well as Yoongi, Seokjin and, of course, Hoseok himself - who wanted a quiet dinner in order to celebrate. Though, realistically, a quiet dinner with three children isn’t exactly possible. Ship coasting on the gentle waters of the Han River, you enjoy the mellow, lightly chilled, breeze wafting through your hair. Despite being at the end of winter, thanks to the space heaters littered around the deck, you barely feel the cold wind.

“Noona can you help me with this?” Jungkook asks from his seat beside you - his sweet voice pulling you out of your reverie. Shifting your gaze to him, you note the way he’s pointing at the large prawn sitting on his plate - the crustacean marinated in garlic butter as it glistens under the waning sunlight.

With a kind smile, “Sure, Gukkie,” you reply before reaching over. Easily, you break off the head of the prawn before squeezing the meat out the shell and placing it onto his plate.

“You did that awfully easily, ____” Hoseok comments as he swallows down the morsels of lobster he’s chewing on. Gaze shifting to him momentarily, you casually shrug your shoulders before turning to help Jungkook deshell the rest of his prawns.

“Me too, Noona! I can’t eat my clams,” Taehyung pipes in from beside Namjoon. And shortly after him, “And my crab!” Jimin calls out from next to his twin.

Angling your head to both of them, you frown slightly - a little confused by their requests. “Have you never eaten seafood before?” you question, a small, puzzled frown marring your lips. Taking pity on the twins, you watch as Yoongi and Seokjin pull their plates besides them - helping them clean their seafood. Simultaneously, Seokjin lets out a little snort before turning his attention to you.

“Are you kidding? With Namjoon as their father?” Seokjin playfully teases, sending a pointed glance towards your boyfriend. For a moment you frown, not really understanding his words, and then, it dawns on you; your lips forming a perfect ‘o’. Namjoon doesn’t like eating seafood. Nonetheless, from your right side, you hear your boyfriend huff.

“It’s not my fault I don’t like eating seafood,” he mumbles under his breath, his lips pursing into a small pout.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t feed your sons seafood - there’s no reason they should miss out on it,” Yoongi butts in, and though your concentration is firmly on Jungkook’s food, you can clearly hear the playfulness in Yoongi’s voice.

“Yeah, Namjoonie, you may not like seafood, but your sons do,” Hoseok chimes in with a snicker. Done with deshelling Jungkook’s food, you turn your attention back to the adults, only to notice the slight tinge on Namjoon’s cheeks and the amused smiles on Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin’s faces.

“You don’t know if they like seafood or not, they’ve barely eaten it,” Namjoon tries to argue, and you shake your head slightly, already knowing he’s fallen into their trap. As soon as those words escape your boyfriend’s lips, you watch as identical, wry grins creep onto their faces.

“Oh really?” Hoseok questions, an impish twinkle in his eyes. Brown eyes alighting with mirth, he directs his attention to the boys, “Jiminie, Taehyungie, Jungkookie, do you like seafood?” Hoseok questions. Finally catching on to where this is going, a look of exasperation colours Namjoon’s face as he sullenly takes another bite of his steak.

Hearing Hoseok’s question, the boys immediately beam with bright smiles before nodding ecstatically. “It’s Hobi-hyung’s favourite so I like it lots!” Jimin replies, his cheeks puffing up as his eyelids form little crescent shapes.

Instantly, Hoseok begins cooing at the oldest twin, “That’s a good boy. Here you go, you can have a piece of my lobster,” he says while picking up some of the meat and passing it onto Jimin’s plate. Seeing the large chunk of meat, Taehyung and Jungkook immediately perk up.

“Hobi-hyung! I like seafood too!” Taehyung and Jungkook call out at once, causing Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin all to guffaw at once. From beside you, however, Namjoon lets out a defeated sigh with another shake of his head.

“I can’t believe my own sons have betrayed my like this,” he dramatically mutters under his breath. An inkling of pity runs through you, and reaching your hand out, you comfortingly pat Namjoon’s thigh.

“Not only your sons, but your girlfriend too,” Seokjin says while pointing his knife towards your plate, where small, empty oyster shells sit on the edge of it.

Pout deepening, “I can’t believe you too, babe,” Namjoon laments, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.

“And why is that?” you question, the corners of your lips twitching in amusement.

“Because! You’re a marine veterinarian! How can you work with them and then also eat them… especially when they’re so cute,” Namjoon replies, and though you want to laugh, the soft look on his face - from his adorable pout to the way his cheeks are tinged in embarrassment - prevents you from doing so.

“You know I mainly work with marine mammals right, Joon?” you gently point out, then after a brief pause, “Besides, I just like seafood,” you continue while patting his strong thigh.

“Maybe you should try some, Namjoon. Here, I’ll even give you my prawn,” Seokjin says while holding out the large crustacean towards your boyfriend. Immediately, a look of horror crosses Namjoon’s face as he baulks. Rolling your eyes, you chuck your cloth napkin at Seokjin in playful ire.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, let Namjoon eat his steak in peace,” you say. Turning his attention to you, Seokjin levels his best puppy dog eyes at you; but you simply roll your eyes and send him a pointed glare, causing him to give in with a chuckle.

“Thanks, ____. You’re the only one who supports me here,” Namjoon sighs dramatically before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple. Angling your head, you smile brightly at him, and instinctively, you move to press a kiss onto his lips. However, immediately, Namjoon jerks back before his nose crinkles in mock distaste. “Absolutely not, you’ve been eating seafood,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The moment the words fall from his lips, your jaw drops open as you gape at his - surprise written all over your face at his rejection. When you hear Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin begin snickering from opposite you, you quickly shut your mouth before lightly smacking Namjoon’s thigh. Bottom lip jutting out, you huff, “That’s the last time I defend you,” you mumble under your breath. With a light chuckle, Namjoon leans in before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip.

“I was only joking, Angel. You know I love kissing you no matter what,” he says, his voice low as his breath fans your lips.

Face softening at his words, you roll your eyes before acquiescing to him. “Yeah, yeah. Just eat your stupid steak,” you reply, causing Namjoon to grin and smack a wet kiss onto your cheek.

The rest of the dinner passes smoothly - the boys taking over the conversation as they ask a hundred and one questions about everything and anything under the sun. Eventually, however, the conversation pauses, in order to sing Hoseok a happy birthday while he cuts the cake before the eight of you share your dessert. As you continue enjoying the evening, the sun slowly fades behind the horizon, the sky darkening as night falls over, which brings you to now.

You’re currently standing at the edge of the deck - leaning on the railing while you look out at the landscape. Indolently, the yacht moves over the water, the large skyscraper buildings that make up the metropolitan of Seoul gently flitting by. The sun has completely set now, and the dark of the night only draws attention to the bright neon lights that pass you. A fresh breeze blows through the air, causing goosebumps to prickle at your skin. It’s cooler now, the crisp night air wafting over your skin as a shiver runs down your spine. Instinctively, you nestle further into Namjoon’s coat, relishing in both the scent and warmth of the large woollen jacket.

Idle chatter murmurs through the air as the conversation continues between the adults, though, you barely participate - more than happy to simply watch the landscape pass and soak it all in. Somewhere along the deck, you can hear the twins and Jungkook running around; playing a game of tag as they try to entertain themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath - smelling the fresh air around you - before exhaling deeply. Suddenly, however, you’re broken out of your thoughts, when you feel someone tug at the hem of your dress.

“Are you okay, Noona?” Jimin asks as he looks up at you in worry. Heart clenching at the concern etched onto his delicate features, you grace him with a smile before nodding.

“I’m alright, Puppy,” you reply. Jimin frowns for a moment, his head tilting to the side - almost as if he doesn’t believe you. However, after a couple of moments, he relents with a nod. Instead, he raises his arm for you to pick him up. Bending over, you easily lift him into your arms, the small boy tucking his head under your chin as he directs his gaze out to the river.

“Noona? Are there dolphins in the Han River?” he questions, as he points out at the large body of water, and you can’t help but chuckle at the curiosity in his tone.

“No, Puppy. Han River is made up of freshwater, and while there are a few freshwater dolphins, most of the species live in saltwater,” you reply easily.

Jimin nods under your chin, but before he can open his mouth again, “Noona!” twin cries echo across the night, and the two of you are joined by his siblings. Taehyung and Jungkook come up to either side of you, Jungkook looking up with a small pout as he notices his older brother in your arms. However, rather than saying anything, he simply shrugs it off after a few moments, and turns his attention to the river.

“What about sharks? Do you think sharks live in the Han River?” Taehyung asks.

“Or maybe stingrays?” Jungkook pipes in with his own, and you laugh lowly at their questions. Clearly, they must have overheard your conversation with Jimin. Nonetheless, before you can reply, you’re joined by the rest of the party.

“How about orcas?” Seokjin questions with a squeaky laugh as he joins you.

“Hmmm, no, but maybe seals?” comes Hoseok’s playful addition.

“I’d like to think giant tortoises live in the Han River myself,” Yoongi says with a sage nod. You know all their additions are completely whimsical, yet you can’t shake your head at their teasing antics.

“Hmmm, what about whales, ____?” Namjoons asks as he comes up behind you, and with his question, you let out a deep sigh of fond exasperation, causing all of them to chuckle. Within your arms, Jimin begins fidgeting, making you bend over and put him back on the desk.

With Jimin out of your arms, Namjoon uses the opportunity to wrap his own arms around your waist before pulling you into his chest. Warmth encasing your back, you exhale deeply and nestle further into his frame. Silence falls over the atmosphere, with only the gentle whirring of the yacht’s engine and the soft sound of water rippling breaking the calmness. The eight of you stare out at the open river as the ship begins making its way back to the marina.

“It’s really pretty out here, isn’t it?” you ask quietly, your words barely audible. In fact, your voice is so low, that only your boyfriend hears you. Bending his head, he nuzzles his nose into your hair before taking a deep breath.

“Not as pretty as you,” comes his reply. Despite the cheesiness of his words, you can’t stop the grin that creeps onto your lips. Twisting in his hold, you wind your arms around his thin waist while looking up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

“I could say the same about you, you know,” you teasingly backfire. The corners of his lips twitching, Namjoon bends his head and drags the tip of his nose against yours, causing your eyes to flutter at the ministration.

“Are you saying I’m pretty?” he asks, the deep timbre of his voice tremoring through the air as his warm breath washes over your face.

“I am, indeed. In fact, I think you’re the prettiest,” you respond, making Namjoon snort in amusement. Puckering his lips, his peppers your mouth in soft kisses, making you sigh in contentment.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree then, because I think you’re the prettiest,” he replies, each of his words broken up by even more of his gentle pecks. Once he’s done speaking, Namjoon places his lips fully onto yours, the thick petals of his mouth slotting perfectly against yours. Tongue flicking out, he licks the seam of your lips in a bid for entrance, but rather than giving it, you pull away. Namjoon frowns at your actions, his eyebrow quirking in question as you grace him with a lop-sided, mischievous grin.

“I thought you didn’t want to kiss me because I taste like seafood,” you remind him. The moment the words fall out your lips, Namjoon’s frown morphs into a playful smirk.

“Hmmm, but you taste like wine now,” he says, before once again dropping his lips onto yours. This time, you’re unable to resist him, and immediately, your mouth parts open in access. Using the opportunity, Namjoon’s tongue slips between your teeth; the silken appendage sliding along yours tantalisingly.

Your kiss only lasts a couple of moments, before suddenly, “Ew, Daddy! Noona! Gross,” and, “Honestly, can you both go two minutes without eating each other’s faces?” echoes through the dark night. Face flushing with heat, the two of you instantly break apart. Reflexively, you bury your face into Namjoon’s chest: in an attempt to hide your mortification, while your boyfriend simply holds you tighter in comfort.

“Hey, ____?” Hoseok calls, and hearing the faux innocence in his voice, your eyes narrow. Turning your head from Namjoon’s chest, you look over at him with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s my birthday you know… So I think if anyone deserves a kiss, it should be me,” he continues with waggling eyebrows. With a blank stare, you gaze at him, your brain slowly processing his words. It only takes you a few short moments, but once you do, you can’t help but snort.

“Sure Hoseok, why not,” you sarcastically remark - already knowing he’s only teasing you. Waggling his eyebrows harder, Hoseok puckers his lips dramatically before making kissy faces at you. However, this time, before you can say anything, you find your boyfriend huffing.

Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he levels a small glare at Hoseok before tilting your body away from his best friend. “Yeah, birthday or not, I don’t think so.”

a/n: ᵘʷᵘ thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! please lemme know what you thought if you did 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

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warlockfemale · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday @jovialjuggernaut-draws I am so sorry that this is so late!

Bruce’s colors have always been muted.

He knows because he was told by a doctor after one of many tests. His parents had both smiled widely and told him just what an exciting thing it was. How he had a soulmate out there someplace and waxed poetry about just the sort of things Bruce would notice once he’d found them. He is one of the 30% of the world with someone made just for him that would be found out once his skin touched theirs.

What they hadn’t told him was how only 6% of the world consisted of people with soulmates that had one one another. What would have devastated Bruce once became a relief because he wasn’t destroying another’s life by making them step into the darkness with him. He was happy to date around and allow whoever had been burdened with him to go on with their own life.

And now he was staring in shock into eyes greener than anything Bruce had ever seen before in his life.

“Shit.”

“Shit!” Edward Nygma agreed. He stepped back, cleared his throat, and swiveled around. “Girls! I’ve changed my mind!” Bruce’s mind had frozen into a blue screen so all he could do was stare at the green clad (god is this how so many people usually saw the world?) trio stride out. As if Edward had an important dinner date he was almost late to while Bruce’s entire worldview was trying to stop tilting. He was sure the entire gala was staring at him or Edward at that point, wondering just what Gotham’s most popular billionaire had done to put the robbery to an end so fast.

“Bruce? You doing ok?” Hands started patting him all over. “Bruce? You’re looking really pale here.”

Shit.

* * * *

Bruce wasn’t brooding. He was analyzing the situation from all angles after debriefing it in the batcave to all persons that might get affected. Dick still refused to answer his phone so Bruce asked Wally to tell his son to check the text. Jason apparently thought there was nothing to worry about (and started laughing) and Alfred seemed less concerned about Bruce’s soulmate being a criminal and more worried about how Bruce was reacting.

Bruce wasn’t brooding and to prove it he went to answer the door soon as the bell rang.

“Delivery for a Mr. Wayne!” Nina Damfino grunted as she shoved a heavy green wrapped box into Bruce’s arms. Unlikely to be an explosive since she’d delivered it and Bruce doubted he could get away with chucking the thing away onto the lawn. So he regrettably started unwrapping the thing; hoping that Edward was watching and wincing at the unnecessary mess made of the custom paper. Taking a deep breath (and hoping that Riddler hadn’t somehow bribed Ivy into giving up some pollen) Bruce opened the box.

What. The. Fuck.

Those were Bruce’s statues. The ones depleting Zal and Rudabeh, stolen from the museum they had been on loan to years ago.

Bruce slammed the door shut in Nina’s face.

* * * *

Of course someone had noticed what was going on. Bruce hadn’t been able to stop himself from gawking at just how many different colors the world had now. Or maybe Riddler had bragged to the entire city about it. Either way Bruce was suddenly bombarded with reporters from the society page. One of them had the gall to ask when the wedding was.

“I have a preteen son,” had been Bruce’s statement hoping that could clear things up. “He is my first priority.”

In hindsight that might have been the wrong thing to say.

* * * *

“So I’ve changed the rules a little. My riddles will lead you to criminals and this time they won’t be me!” Jason was practically vibrating in place from mirth as Bruce stared fixedly at the letter laying on the table. Gordon was giving Bruce A Look.

“Word on the street is something happened at the Wayne gala.”

“Hrrn.”

“Riddler donated back some of the art he stole. Wrapped with a bow.” And with a two sheeted riddle that pretty much translated into one giant insult that the museum’s director was still trying to puzzle out. Jason had thought the entire thing was great after the director’s snub at the “newest Wayne charity case”.

“I heard.” The wall really needed to be repainted.

“Batman I need to know if this is going to explode into something I’ll need to worry about.” That had been Dick’s exact words when he’d come into the cave last night.

“I’m looking into it.” Alfred had already started to make pointed remarks about manners and facing life’s problems. “Now ‘You don’t have to look for a night on the lawn’-”

* * * *

“You know Riddler tried to bribe me into sharing information about you today at the library.” Jason tilted his chair back onto the back legs as if he had not just nearly given Bruce a heart attack with his words. “Don’t worry, I held out for a triple scoop sundae before letting him know your favorite color.”

“Jason, he's a dangerous criminal!”

“Eh I grew up with worse.” Bruce breathed in deep trying not to let Jason see just how troubled that fact always made him. Jason usually said things like that off hand, just another fact about the world. The sky was blue, Selina liked to steal things, and Jason’s childhood until now had consisted of trying to survive. “His eyes aren’t mean. And you’re soulmates.”

“I cannot tell you how little that reassures me,” Jason grinned and tipped his chair back into place the little brat. Bruce ruffled the boy’s hair as punishment earning a fake glare and slap at his hands. “But really Jason, you need to stay safe.”

“Uh huh. Think I could take on the Riddler.” Not reassuring. “I also made sure to be in sight of Barbie at all times.” Much more reassuring since Bruce had personally seen Barbra flip two grown men over her head at once. Another grin, bigger this time. More of a smirk that had Bruce raising an eyebrow. “I also told him that you liked flowers.”

“Jay lad please tell me-”

“Sir there seems to have been a delivery for you.” Alfred’s face was carefully blank, a sure sign of just what Bruce was going to find at the door. “If you do not mind.”

“Don’t worry!” Jason called out happily as Bruce stared in disbelief at the sudden garden now growing on his steps. “I made sure Ivy wouldn’t be out for blood!”

* * * *

“Ah detective!” Edward’s green suit might as well been the only spark of color in the diner as Bruce entered it. As pressed and clean as always while the man himself gave a small toast with his coffee cup. “Glad you could make it! And you solved my riddle! Very good!”

“Riddler.” Bruce sat down at the diner bar taking in Edward’s appearance. “What is it now?”

“Is that any way to talk to your new partner?”

“If you think this game-”

“Oh please,” Edward waved his hand like a magician retrieving their rabbit. “You might think Bruce’s secret is safe but I am a genius. He’s helped fund the Justice League.” Edward leaned in, eyes darting around the near empty diner as his voice lowered. “He’s funding you. I have to play on the side of angels for the only one in the universe that can understand me?” He stood up, throwing cash upon the bar and a grim smile on his face. “Now let’s get to chasing down those criminals. Quick crime question. Who was the biggest thief in history?”

Bruce stared at him, then the newspaper resting under Edward’s coffee cup. “Atlas News? Where is this going?” Edward’s face lit up, eyes gleaming as he didn’t even bother trying to hide his utter delight.

“The game, my dear Watson, is afoot!”

“Awwww.” Nightwing cooed into the communicator from his perch as Edward stumbled out the door. It was not adorable, Bruce reminded himself sternly, for a grown man to go scampering out the way that Edward did with such a look of utter pride on his face for having “bested” Batman. They both had a job to do and he was yet convinced that Edward wasn’t just trying to play another game. “Just for the record. Batgirl says you’re an emotionally repressed coward.”

Batman never sighed. In public.

* * * *

“Why hello there Mr. Wayne. Fancy seeing you um… here. At home. Working in your study.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that Riddler’s over extravagant self praise and mocking towards others covered up a socially awkward man. Alfred’s rather pointed eyebrow raise before the butler closed the door let Bruce know just how little the household held his own social skills. Perfect match Jason had cackled madly last night. One never shuts up and the other just grunts.

“I have a secret.” Bruce managed to grind out as he stared at the area above Edward’s ear. He could do this, he’d managed to disarm a bomb with Firefly setting things on fire last month. He has given this speech several times into the mirror and once to Alfred. “It is a rather large one and will affect any… relationship that I may have.” Bruce chanced a look at Edward’s face and was slightly alarmed to see the man’s lip’s twitching. “You deserve to know and if this makes you decide that a-”

“Unless your secret is that you’re Batman I don’t expect-” Edward trailed off as he stared at Bruce’s face. The green clad man’s face went blank as Bruce went through all the contingency plans for when this went bad. “You’re Batman?” Edward burst out laughing, hands flying to the desk to keep himself upright as his body shook hard. Bruce’s hand flew up to sturdy the man just to be swatted away. “I knew it!”

“You couldn’t have known I was-”

“No, no. Not that. Well, somewhat.” Edward’s eyes really were a bright green, brighter than any other color as he bent forward to give a quick peck to Bruce’s lips, one thumb rising up to trace the small scar on the corner. “I always knew you were the only one who got me.”

#riddlebat #riddler #batman #bruce wayne #edward nygma #batman fanfiction

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pteridofyte · 3 years

Text

cloud nine

wc: ~550

note: i’ll come clean up formatting in a little bit!! i’m away on a trip but i really wanted to give my favorite birthday friend a gift :))

happy birthday angel :) @joolsii

Yaku considers himself a rather put together person, all things considered.

He shows up to his commitments in a timely manner- On time is five minutes early, no less! still rings in his ears from his grandmother's persistent use of the phrase throughout his life- he’s got everything he needs (mostly) at all times, and he’s respectful of other people’s needs around him, endeavoring to help whenever he can.

Yaku’s got a life that’s full of routine, expectations, and gentle monotony. It’s the way he likes it best; situations staying the same let him be a provider to others. He’s comfortable.

Until you enter the picture.

It’s fast and it’s bright, the way you’re just suddenly present, like a flashing tear of lightning in the silk dark, like a blast of wind swirling sand rapidly across the dunes, like a spark setting a pile of kindling ablaze in the blink of an eye.

It’s exhilarating (and a little terrifying) to have someone unravel his whole….his whole life, really, in such a short period of time.

You take his world, a wonderful picture-perfect thing of routine and simplicity, and let it fall. Shatter.

And the craziest part is that he doesn’t mind one bit.

You have him running into the gym two minutes late to volleyball on a Wednesday afternoon, apologizing profusely to an unbelieving Kuroo that he was just running a bit late today! when he spent far too long talking to you on the way out of class.

Lev looks at him in confusion one afternoon, blood still speckled on his knee, when he has to apologize for forgetting to carry bandaids with him today. But Yaku always carries bandaids, Lev reasons, watching the boy dash away to catch up to a class just letting out.

Yaku wasn’t going to tell him that he used the last bandaid patching up a hairline cut on your finger, or that he’s running to try and spot your face amongst the sea of people.

He doesn’t even stop to Yamamoto’s indignant cry as he makes a beeline out of the gym before Nekoma’s post-game cool off just because he saw your head amongst the crowd and just really wanted to talk to you.

Yaku’s life got leaps and bounds more interesting the second he saw your face. And as much as he hated to admit it, he’s gotten more than a little addicted to the heat licking up his cheeks whenever you’re around, the little lump in his throat every time you laugh and your eyes light up or you trace your fingers in patterns along an object or, god forbid, his shoulder or his arm.

You may have smashed his world, but he finds it quite hard to be upset when, curiously enough, he thinks it looks better from this angle.

And now, looking at the joy on your face after his confession, he feels the apples of his own cheeks stretch wide. He’s committed the moment unarguably to memory, but he’d do everything it took to get here all over again a million times for you.

Yaku Morisuke’s a bit of a mess when he’s around you, all things considered. But he's the luckiest man in the world with you by his side, and he really wouldn’t have it any other way.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #yaku morisuke #yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #haikyuu fluff #happy birthday !!

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baepsaesbae · 4 years

Text

Office Hours

Pairing— Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre— Smut, pwp, college au

Warnings— Inappropriate student/professor relationship, fingering, spanking, oral (male), dirty talk

Word count— ~3k

Summary— You visit your professor’s office hours to seek some help

A/N— Happy Birthday Namjoon! Fun fact: this story was the first time I ever attempted to write smut. Huge thank you to @taemaknae for making this pretty banner for me! Enjoy~

It’s just for the grade. Just for the grade. The words paced back and forth across your mind in the same chaotic motions that your own emotions took on. You made your way up the steps of the history hall, towards Professor Kim’s office. All your nerves were hyper aware of the surrounding and each step was deafening, threatening to pop your eardrums. The nervousness of it all flushed your cheeks with a warm glow that slowly grew into an uncontrollable forest fire.

And then it all climaxed as you stood at the closed door of Professor Kim’s office. Your heart skipped and sputtered and protested, but you vowed to push onward. It was just a meeting with a professor. No biggie, you tried to reassure yourself.

But the little angel on your right shoulder (the one you had always ignored up until now), whispered in your ear about how you got yourself into this predicament. Y/n, the social butterfly and socialite-to-be, was, admittedly, a flirt. Of course, this had always gotten you into predicaments that often left more to be desired, but they always resolved themselves. Besides, if you couldn’t concoct a solution for yourself, your parents always helped out their little. They both came from money so old the corners of the bills were fraying. But this time was different; this time you bit off more than you could chew. This time your parents wouldn’t be there to bail you out.

It all started the same way as always: with you being the ever flamboyant ___ and locking your eyes on the target of your next fling. Professor Kim Namjoon was a young professor, one with the worn down charm of an old bike, and he had just started teaching at your university. His hair was dark and fell in delicate waves, and his face was charmingly disheveled by the cute glasses he always wears. You knew since the first day of class that he would be your newest toy, and what’s more? You were tired of the boys your age.

Now, you were here, three months later, facing the door that led to the mess you created. Just for a grade. Your shaky hand knocked a nervous knock, one that begged the person on the other side to not open the door.

“Come in,” you heard his voice from the other side of the door.

God dammit why did I do this to myself? you thought. Although you had been quite flirty with Professor Kim ever since the semester started, any romantic interactions with him had all been just a fantasy. Well, romantic OR sexual interactions.

You put on your best smile in an attempt of exuding false confidence before opening the door. Once inside the office, you locked eyes with Professor Kim. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt with a cute tie that had a colorful paisley pattern. His black glasses were simple but only added to his charm. You began to wonder who chose the tie, whether it was him or maybe a significant other when your train of thought was interrupted.

“Ah, Miss ___. How are you? I assume you’re here to ask about the final paper? Please, sit down,” Professor Kim flashed you a smile. It was the type of smile that would have women of all ages swooning.

“Ah yes! I uh, have a rough draft that I wanted to review with you. If you have the time. I’m not sure if I’m addressing the prompt properly. I think I had an issue with that on the last essay,” you began to explain.

“Of course we can do that. Office hours are specifically set aside for students anyway. Whether that be for academic purposes or...other things…” his voice suddenly got lower and dropped off before he continued with his usual cadence, “Anywho, let’s take a look at your paper!”

You nodded and tried not to pay any mind to his odd remark. You chalked it up to him just not knowing how to end his sentence. You whipped out a printed rough draft and slid it over to Professor Kim. You found it more beneficial to make revisions on physical paper. You both sat in silence as he began to read your essay.

After what felt like the larger portion of a decade, Professor Kim’s eyes rose from the paper to meet yours, and they were murky with a mixture of amusement and something a bit darker. Your heart skipped as you scanned the dark brown pools for confirmation that what you had read in his eyes was a brewing lust.

“Miss ___, you have a fine craft for writing history papers don’t you?” his lips tugged at the corners into a charming half grin, “Have you written anyone’s papers for them for profit?”

You let out a breathy laugh that betrayed your false confidence, “Um, sir?”

He chuckled, “Just messing with ya. Lighten up, Miss ___.”

Again, you let out a breathy laugh and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, an annoying habit you had picked up when you were nervous (though it was rare anyone ever saw you nervous).

“S-sorry, sir,” you wanted to kick yourself for being such a wuss in front of him. I am ___, and I’m not supposed to lose my nerves!

Before you could collect your feelings, you felt your heart chase up your throat when Professor Kim suddenly leaned in and the distance between you two went from close to very close. You could smell the light musk of his cologne, a lovely scent that folded itself into a strange warmth in your chest. Perhaps it was Aqua di Gio? A man of taste, you noted to yourself.

“You’re quite the social butterfly in lecture, and yet here you are stuttering,” he chuckled, his eyes betrayed nothing except a shadow of lust. You could almost see your own nestled desire in your reflection on his glasses. “Tell me, ___. Why are you really here? Surely, an excellent writer like yourself wouldn’t need my guidance on such an elementary paper?”

As if his direct confrontation wasn’t enough to send you into a frenzy, Namjoon’s hand shot out to tap the tip of your nose teasingly. You felt your lips part, in an unconscious expectation for him to run his fingers along them. He didn’t, but you could hear him chuckle again.

“I’m not quite sure,” you spoke, and as you continued to speak, you felt your confidence- your real confidence- sink back in, “I just thought it would be...entertaining. One for the books?” You even allowed a single eyebrow to make its way up, challenging him.

Professor Kim leaned in even closer, until his lips almost (but not quite) brushed your ear, “Go make sure the door is locked, Miss ___.” His breath was warm, and the musk of his cologne grew stronger, caressing you invitingly, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to reject it.

Slowly, you stood up from your seat to the door before turning the lock with a quick, deliberate movement. Your breath came in quick bursts, your legs pressed together tightly as you made your way back to the desk, and, for the first time since entering his office, your face slowly cracked into a slight, sly smile.

Professor Kim was leaning back in his chair, as if the situation hadn’t taken a turn at all. His calm demeanor put you on edge, especially when he beckoned you over to him with one finger. You arched a brow and smirked at his boldness, but nonetheless made your way to him. Raising the stakes, you plopped into his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

“Did I say sit down, Miss ___?” Professor Kim’s voice was deeper now, and the light aura about him had vanished.

You were taken by surprise and didn’t know how to react. Before you could reply, Professor Kim leaned in to whisper in your ear, “From now on, you'll do as you’re told, understand? Only good girls get rewarded.”

That sent chills down your spine. All the boys that you’ve been with before had tried to put on a dominant act. Some of them were more convincing than others, but none of them were as authentic as this. Your excitement grew and you became cheeky because of it.

“What if I wanna be a bad girl?” you teased, trying to place a kiss on Professor Kim’s neck.

“Then you can get the fuck out of my office,” Professor Kim said abruptly, and pushed you off his lap. Stumbling backwards before running into the desk, you were shocked again. You realized you had never met anyone like Kim Namjoon before, and he wasn’t going to put up with your antics. You were helplessly at his mercy, and you couldn’t be more turned on.

“Turn around and bend over,” Professor Kim commanded with a new edge to his voice. You did as you were told, thanking god that you chose to wear a seemingly innocent dress with red lacy underwear that day. From Namjoon’s angle, you were sure he could see everything. You heard Professor Kim click his tongue as he got up from his chair. He leaned over you and whispered into your ear, “You’re such a naughty thing. You think I don’t notice the skimpy outfits you wear to class? All the innocent little bends you do when you ‘accidentally’ drop something? I think I’m going to have to discipline you to act properly in class. I will not be disrespected in my own classroom, do you understand? Outside of class, however, you can act however you please.”

“Yes Professor Kim. Punish me however you like,” you decided to play along looking back at him with a smile. The smile didn’t last for long, as you felt a hard slap on your ass that stung like hell. You let out a loud gasp.

“I’m not playing around. I’ll be the one calling the shots, Miss ___. You can call me ‘Sir’ from now on, Professor Kim is too long, it’ll be hard to scream it out later,” Professor Kim landed another hard blow on your ass. You let out another whimper. Usually, you love getting your ass slapped, but no one has ever done it like this before. A few seconds pass another slap echoed throughout the room. The pain was starting to mix with pleasure.

“You didn’t answer me, Miss ___. I do not like being ignored,” Professor Kim admonished.

“I’m sorry, sir. Yes sir you will be calling the shots from now on,” you quickly responded. As good as the spanks were starting to feel, you would have preferred a more tender touch.

“Good girl. What do you want me to do now? You want me to touch you?” Professor Kim said with a deep sultry voice. His voice alone had you soaking through your panties. All you could do was whine in response and sway your hips in Namjoon’s direction. Namjoon chuckled at your reaction as he slipped off your panties.

“Already so wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. Is this what you’ve been wanting all semester?” Professor Kim questioned.

“Yes, oh my god yes. Please sir, just touch me already!” you couldn’t help but cry out; you were dying from the anticipation. Without warning, you felt your professor rubbing your clit in circular motions. The sensation was pleasurable but left you wanting more. Moaning, you tried to push your hips closer to Professor Kim.

“Oh you want more? This isn’t good enough?” Professor Kim teased, slipping a finger into you. You gasped at the feeling, as Professor Kim pumped in and out of you slowly. Professor Kim took note at how easily he slipped his finger inside, as you were dripping for him.

“Do you think you can handle two fingers, princess?” Professor Kim asked, keeping his pace agonizingly slow.

“Please! Please I need more,” you begged.

“What a greedy girl,” Professor Kim growled, adding another finger in. His pace quickened at an alarming rate, curling his fingers at just the right spot. With each pump, he hit your sweet spot and soon you was having a hard time keeping quiet. Your whimpers turned into moans that were mixed in with your increasing panting. Namjoon listened to you and took your rapid panting as a signal to go faster.

“Oh my fuck. Oh god. Yes, right there,” you moaned out as you were reaching your climax.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Professor Kim asked without slowing his pace.

“Yes sir PLEASE I’m gonna- ahhhhh,” your body jerked involuntarily as waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Despite your cries, Professor Kim kept up the same pace, helping you ride out your orgasm. Afterwards, Professor Kim helped you into his chair. You looked up innocently at him before sweetly saying, “I’m ready for round 2, sir.”

Namjoon, who stood over you in his towering stature, allowed his face to betray a grin of delight, and he leaned in, placing a hand on each side of the arm rests. You didn’t even flinch as Namjoon established a dominating stance, but rather you teasingly leaned in and pressed your lips to his neck, just below his jaw.

This motion elicited a soft growl from Namjoon, and he grabbed you by the arms and gently pulled you up from the chair. His face was beginning to lose the structure and reserved nature that it had been carefully maintaining, and his eyes became dark with greed and lust. He loosened his button up from its tucked state in his trousers before beginning to undo the belt.

You caught on quickly with what he was about to do, and you took a kneeling position on the carpet. You looked up at him expectantly with your signature devious smile, and you were surprised at how pleased he was when his eyes narrowed in response.

“Look at you, Miss ___. Keep smiling cos in a few minutes you won’t be,” he threatened, “I’m going to shut that dirty mouth of yours up. God, your lips were meant to do that weren’t they?” He reached down and roughly moved his thumb over your plump, parted lips.

Namjoon finished up undoing his trousers, and he finally said, “Open your mouth, Miss ___.”

You obeyed without a word this time, because for some reason you were so eager to see his face wrinkle in pleasure. There was this burning need to please him that you had never felt in any other lukewarm hookup you had previously. Namjoon gently released his erection, and you were left to admire its length. But before too long, he slipped into your open mouth, and you could feel its warmth and texture. Experience kicked in, and your hands moved expertly over his erection. Your tongue played at his tip, and you watched as his face that was always so charming yet reserved crumpled into one of sheer pleasure.

You couldn’t help but smile as your mouth moved along his cock, and Namjoon responded by growling through quick breaths, “God, your mouth feels so good, princess. Keep going.” His hand became entangled into your locks, and he held your hair up to ease your movements. The ego boost of knowing you had this effect on him was a catalyst for you to speed up.

In response, Professor Kim groaned under his breath, and as your pace picked up, his hips began rhythmically moving along with you, driving his erection deeper into your mouth. Your own heart was racing as you felt him nearing his climax, and your face was warm as you felt the wetness from your mouth spilling onto your chin. You felt Namjoon’s grip on your hair tighten as he began to cum, releasing himself into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, as you continued your motions, his body sending rhythmic waves from his release. Through his heavy breathing Namjoon managed to command you, “Swallow.” Finally, he pulled out of your mouth and leaned over you, giving you several light smacks on your cheeks. His lips found yours, and you felt his kisses all over your chin, neck, and cheeks before traveling back to your lips. In that moment, your desire almost toppled over because there wasn’t enough skin, enough spit, or enough of him.

You giggled under his lips, and closed your eyes from the pleasure of his light smacks again. Namjoon then stood up and fixed himself, as much as he could after receiving such marvelous head, and then addressed you again, in a more collected voice, “What do you say, Miss ___?”

“Thank you for cumming in my mouth, sir,” you responded promptly.

He arched an eyebrow, “Getting cheeky are we? If it weren’t for the end of my office hours I would’ve fucked you so hard it would knock that smile of yours off your pretty face.”

You pouted playfully, but there was a sense of urgency as you realized this might be all you would be getting from him, “Are you sure you can’t extend your hours?”

Namjoon smiled amusedly, his face carefully composed again. You knew then that he had the upper hand, and even though you were always used to being the flirt, the girl with men wrapped around Tiffany clad fingers, you yielded control to him.

“I believe your essay could use some extra guidance a different day,” he answered pointedly, “Oh, and Miss ___?”

“Yes, sir?” you perked up at his change in tone.

He tossed you a handkerchief from his trousers, “Clean up a little. We wouldn’t want our little secret out and about would we?”

#bts smut #kim namjoon smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #namjoon pwp #kpop fanfic #namjoon x reader #bayanihanboost #bts fanfic

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writeroutoftime · 4 years

Text

birthday

pairing: john shelby x reader

summary: it’s you birthday and when the love of your life and your family forget your birthday, you aren’t sure how to react

warnings: none

words: 1745

a/n: I wrote this story for @smallheathgangsters, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEAH!! Thank you for being the wonderful person you are, I truly hope that you had an amazing birthday and that this year brings so many wonderful things your way. I’m so glad to call you a friend, and I hope you enjoy this story - even if it is kinda cheesy!! Best wishes!! 💛

oOoOo

As the morning sun rose across the streets of Birmingham, small peaks of light filtered through your bedroom curtains and dosed you in the morning sunrise. With a yawn and a full body stretch, you reached across the sheets and your eyes shot up at the lack of another body wrapped around yours. Normally, John had at least an arm thrown over your waist, but that morning you only found sheets cool to the touch.

Moments later you curled back into your blankets and tried to let sleep wash over you once more, no longer confused. Every year on your birthday, without fail, John managed to slip out of bed before you woke up and recruited your children to make you breakfast in bed. While it usually ended with John shooing your child outside while he cleaned up the egg and flour streaked kitchen to prepare something edible, the thought always warmed your heart.

Though, of course, your children would still find some way to cause mischief before the day had truly began. One year, Katie presented you with a bouquet of wildflowers they had found, and you had struggled to contain your giggles at the sight of the rest of your children’s face and clothes smeared with dirt.

However, when you heard no banging of pots or pans, early morning quarrels between Will and George, and no hushed whispers and giggles as your family attempted to sneak up the stairs to surprise you, worry began to flow through your veins. Quickly, you wrapped your robe around yourself before you padded into the kitchen to find your family. The only one you could find was John, you sat calmly at the kitchen table, a cup of juice in his hand as he concentrated on the paper spread out in front of him.

“Morning, love.” John greeted coolly when he heard you walk in, not even sparing you a quick glance.

“Morning.” you responded look around, slightly dazed by the sight before you. “Where are the kids?”

John’s voice kept the same, nonchalant, tone as he turned the page of the paper. “Oh, Polly’s watching ‘em today. “

A glimmer of hope bubbled in your chest at your husband’s words. Maybe this had been John’s plan all along – a day alone just for the two of you. It was something you hadn’t the luxury to enjoy in quite a while, and you were well overdue for some quality time with your husband. “So, any plans for today?” you asked slyly as you walked towards John, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing a kiss behind his ear.

“Not really. ‘Less you count Tommy dragging my ass in to work today.” he said with a slight chuckle.

Had he really forgotten? you thought to yourself as you pulled your arms back to wrap around yourself and watched John go about his morning like any other day. The thought made your heart clench, but you decided against speaking up. John had never forgotten your birthday in all the years you had known him, and while that made the fact that he had this year sting a little more, you also decided he was it must have slipped his mind because of how hard Tommy had been working him recently. Besides, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t have other birthdays, perhaps you simply overreacted.

“Well, I’m off, love.” John told you, offering you a quick peck on the lips before he adjusted his cap and was out the door without another word.

You were left, stunned, and staring wistfully at the door. With heavy feet you dragged yourself upstairs to prepare for the day, taking the time to bathe and pamper yourself in the way that your life hadn’t allowed you to over the past few weeks. You decided that even if John wasn’t going to spend the day with you, there had to be other’s that remembered, and the day would be celebrated in style.

As the morning wore on, you rung Ada up to see if she would be open to a nice afternoon out to have a birthday lunch and do a little bit of shopping. That hope was quickly crushed when Ada picked up and immediately told you she was late for a shift as the two of you spoke. Polly was just as evasive on the phone, claiming she was taking the kids out and rushed you off the line without wishing you a happy birthday. You didn’t even bother to call the office because you knew if Tommy had called John in, then Arthur and Finn wouldn’t be far behind.

Dejected, you slumped onto the couch with an exasperated sigh and pulled out a book to fill the time, but once you realized you had read the same sentence over and over, you shut the book and decided to walk through the meadow that surrounded your house. When the sun began to set, you made your way back to the still empty house and ran the last stretch of land when you heard the phone’s shrill ring.

“Hello?” you asked, desperate for contact with another person.

“y/n?” Tommy confirmed through the receiver. “You need to come down to the Garrison.” he commanded – no ‘how are you’ no ‘happy fucking birthday,’ just him barking orders, as always.

“Why?” you pressed, the anger finally beginning to boil inside of you.

There was a sigh from Tommy’s end before he responded. “Because John-Boy’s drunk off his ass and needs someone to bring him home.”

“Fine.” you spat and harshly slammed the phone back on its hook.

The entire walk to the Garrison, you rehearsed the lecture you had for John and any other Shelby member unfortunate enough to cross paths with you. While you first thought you could excuse John’s forgetfulness, knowing that he had abandoned you to get drunk, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Upon reaching the Garrison, however, you noticed the noise that normally flowed from the doors and windows was absent.

Slightly concerned, and with hesitant steps, you made your way to the entrance, cursing yourself for not bringing the small gun John had gifted you so many birthdays ago. Ready to attack at a moment’s notice, you headed into the pub to be meet with a pitch-black room, until -

“SURPRISE!” you heard from every corner of the pub as the lights were switched on to reveal the Garrison overly decorated with streamers, balloons, and confetti all around.

Front and center of the crowd stood John with a huge smile on his face, surrounded by all of your children who ran up to hug you. The rest of the Shelby clan stood off to the side clapping and cheering up a storm – even serious, stoic Tommy had a smile on his face as he held Charlie in his arms.

There was a chorus of “Happy Birthday, y/n” as you were led you to a table off to the side with your birthday cake, a handful of presents, and what looked to be handmade cards. You smiled at each and every one of the cards that your children made you and they gave you hugs before Linda ushered them together to take them home for the evening.

It only took a few seconds after that before a drink found its way into your hands as you went around to hug Ada, Polly Arthur, Tommy, and even Finn. They all expressed their sorrow for having to act like they had forgotten the birthday of one of the most important people in their lives, but you assured them this was well worth the suspense. As you tried to converse with some of the other guests at your party, a pair of hands suddenly covered your eyes, resulting in a yelp to pass by your lips.

“Happy birthday, angel.” John whispered into your ear, and you spun around to face him with a smile on your face.

“You remembered!” you exclaimed and wrapped your arms around John and burying your head in his chest.

The look that crossed his face was slightly guilty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t enjoy acting like that to you, I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, consider me surprised.” you said and kissed him to let him know that you weren’t mad in the slightest and that it was truly one of the sweetest things someone had done for you in a while.

John pulled away from the kiss after only a few seconds but dragged you off to the private room of the Garrison and told you to sit down. With your head tilted, you watched John as he pulled out a wrapped present from his pocket and handed it to you before he sat down as well.

Eagerly, you tore into the wrapping paper and threw it to the floor before you gasped at what was inside. Inside the small box sat a beautiful, diamond ring that sparkled from all angles, complete with two, smaller peridot stones set on either side of the main diamond. Tears sprung to your eyes as John knelt down in front of you and gentle took the ring out of the box.

“I know we’ve been together for so long, but I did promise you a ring you truly deserved when I was able to buy it.” he reminisced and looked up at you sheepishly.

The memory made you smile and cry a bit more out of happiness. All those years ago when you had found out you were expecting Katie and John proposed, it was with the ring that currently sat on your finger. While you cherished the ring with your whole heart, John never felt it was worth of enough for you and vowed that when he had made a name for himself, he would give you another ring.

“It’s beautiful.” you whispered and allowed him to slip it onto your ring finger, your old ring moving to your right hand until you could find a chain for it.

John lovingly rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone and lifted your hand to brush his lips against your knuckles. “Thank you for being my beautiful, perfect angel. I love you.” he confessed, more than happy to be sappy and emotional in honor of your birthday.

“I love you too.” you told him and grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him once more, looking forward to the many other perfect birthdays you would spend together.

#john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby imagines #peaky blinders imagines

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forbidding-souda · 4 years

Note

jeez, i like this blog. how about writing Soda, Kirigiri, Mukuro, Celeste, Hagakure, Ouma and Kiibo with albino s/o? some cute general hc and some hcs about dealing with their sensetive to sun skin and eyes and weak health at all, and with people who bullying them for their appearance? thanks, have a nice day.

Kazuichi Souda, Kyoko Kirigiri, Mukuro Ikusaba, Celestia Ludenberg, Yasuhiro Hagakure, Kokichi Ouma, and Kiibo with albino S/O

Ya’ll are opening my horizons to different things wait I love this.

Ever since this request popped into my ask box I’ve been excited to write it sorry it took so long! Kisses xx

-Mod Souda

Kazuichi Souda

He’s basically your designated driver when you need it.

Any questions you have at all about trying to read signs from a distance or if there’s anyone nearby that might make fun of you, he’ll answer you. He’s good at defending you.

Since he’s semi intimidating, if you’re with him, people just think wow look at the alt couple. Some people assume that you don’t naturally look like that, too.

When he first met you, he’d wave to you once you exited school, not realizing you could hardly see him with the sun outside.

You sun burn easily, too, and his first solution to this was to try and get you to wear one of his jumpers.

I mean - yeah but also no.

Once tried to convince you to wear his beanie to but you assured him that that will not protect you from the sun.

Your social scene was never too active because of the way you are. But Souda understand this too, on a less medical sense.

He always tries to get you to hang around his friends, as well.

He’s always there to remind you that you are not a curse and that he loves you, kissing your skin and holding you close.

Since you were bullied throughout your kid years, when you finally were around his friend group, you were surprised that all of them were nice.

He is a very good person to be with when it comes to things like, of course, being nervous about who you are.

He’s helpful and will work harder to get money to buy anything you need to help you live more comfortably.

Surprises you with flowers a lot. Not necessarily bouquets but just small flowers lying around your room.

His favorite thing to do is just surprise you with small things hidden around the house. Your favorite drink, small sweats, things that make you happy.

Kyoko Kirigiri

She’s a very intelligent girl, and she holds a lot of power.

“Remember to bring your sunglasses,” she’ll always remind you.

Has extra gloves for you, too.

Requests to change some of the lightbulbs in the classrooms just in case they are the type that hurt you.

She’s also a very good cuddler, too! She’ll run her fingers up and down your arms or play with your hair.

Doesn’t like to go on dates outside, which is fine by you.

Instead of outside dates, she’ll watch your favorite movies with you, or ask you questions to learn more about you.

She’s a curious cat when it comes to what makes you you.

You try to reciprocate the energy, but she doesn’t like to answer all of the questions you give her.

All the questions, all the questions, all the questions! You almost think she’s making a journal about you.

Sometimes she’ll take you out in the night in December, putting Christmas lights around the neighborhood.

Someone will have to get on the other’s shoulders, often, but that just makes everything so much funner.

Especially when the tiny bit of snow falls from the sky.

Seeing Kyoko in the snow is like watching an angel.

Mukuro Ikusaba

She doesn’t quite understand what albinism means.

But she knows that it’s something serious, and you aren’t like other people.

Anything you tell her she’ll try to remember.

For your birthday, she got you a parasol. It was your favorite color, too!

Twirling it in your hand while the two of you walk together is everything!

You got her a matching one, too, the both of you can twirl your parasol’s together.

She gets you a lot of random presents, things you don’t even know where she gets it from. Posters of your favorite musicians are you favorites.

When she moves into your house, she adds a lot of decor to your room. Things like plants, adding shelves for her books, and different stuffed animals her sister stole for her when they were homeless.

She’s very much an indoors person, but she is willing to do the shopping and cooking whenever you don’t feel well.

Can carry you, too. She’s surprisingly strong.

Not that she can carry you, let me correct myself. She will carry you.

Also will fight anyone who disrespects you.

Celestia Ludenberg

She has a collection of parasol’s in her house, and will definitely allow you to dress up in her gothic lolita clothes if you so desired.

She likes touching your skin, too, definitely.

Everything about you is beautiful to her.

Being next to you in public makes her proud that she was able to date someone like you.

Will help you in any way.

But she always wants something in return. A kiss, nothing serious. Maybe showering with her if she’s feeling lonely enough.

“You’re invited to the mansion with me when I become rich,” she coos one night, turning to her side to look at you.

To her, the invite was a serious thing. All of her life she dreamed about being alone in the house with all of those boys. But if you’re there with her, then it might be a little better.

She is dreamy when it comes to skincare, and will always massage your face. It’s usually when you come back from being outside, and the sun has bothered your eyes, she will draw her thin fingers across your face to try and ease at least some pain.

But she’s such a drama queen sometimes, wondering why you can’t just go have tea with her sometime. Both of you settled on going when the sun is down, or when the clouds are thick.

Because tea with her is fun, actually. Makes you tune into your inner lolita subculture.

Yasuhiro Hagakure

He’s a dummy sometimes.

“Hiro, can you grab my sunhat?”

“Sure thing!”

You step outside, asking him where it is.

“I forgot to get it, wait-”

His body is really large, and he can shade you if you get too overwhelmed. Not to mention that he easily drapes his jacket over you, sometimes.

This boy cares a lot!!!!

He listens to your every last word and complaint!! If you are in pain? He’s gonna take you home immediately!

A lot of strangers like to stare at you, sometimes taking pictures without you noticing.

He always calls them out, often yelling in public to defend you.

You defend him, too, sometimes having to bonk people on the head when they gawk at him.

But he’s an outdoorsy fellow when he’s not constantly in fear that the yakuza would kill him.

You don’t get to see him all that often. It’s a little disheartening.

He comes home whenever he can to give you big hugs!

Kokichi Ouma

He’s a little goofer sometimes.

Sometimes you have to go out without him, and it’ll never go well.

You’ll be almost out the door. “Where are my sunglasses?”

“Oh, I don’t know, S/O. Where are they?”

“You little shit.”

He always wants to go with you when you go outside. Just because he likes hanging out with you, also because he thinks your routine is very interesting.

Sneaks up on you all the time. Especially in public.

It’s your least favorite thing ever when he does it when it’s sunny outside.

But if someone tries to bother you, though, he will trip them or spit on them or even push them out of the way.

A lot of his DICE members will join in too, terrorizing them even days after.

Every time he spends the night, he wakes up earlier than you, and always makes you a cup of tea/water/coffee for you when you wake up.

He definitely gives you hugs from behind, too. Not even to surprise you. He just really likes wrapping his arms around you from that angle.

Draws you little pictures of yourself to leave around the house. It’s weird when he hasn’t came over in a while and yet you still find little post-it notes all over.

Kiibo

He has a very big brain! But he still asks a lot of questions about it.

He makes, almost forces, you to eat a lot of healthy foods so your physical health can improve a bit. It’s very annoying, but you do it for him.

Surprise kisses are what he’s good at! He will wake you up with kisses, give you nightly kisses before he turns off, and give you kisses throughout his day.

And he keeps his eyes on you!! Like all the time!!

Because he worries, and he tries not to let you know, which fails.

“Kiibo, you don’t have to worry.”

“I-I’m not worried! I just... love you a lot.”

You laugh, “you are worried because you love me.”

It makes him blush every time you tell him that.

He loves you with all of his heart, it’s scary sometimes!

He didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much!

So he likes hearing you say you love him all the time.

He doesn’t like the sun that much, and his ventures outside are shortlived, so you don’t have to worry about being forced to go out for whatever reason.

#danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #kazuichi souda #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda #kazuichi soda x reader #kyoko kirigiri #mukuro ikusaba #kyoko kirigiri x reader #mukuro ikusaba x reader #celestia ludenberg x reader #yasuhiro hagakure x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #kiibo x reader

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

A little blue

A/n I’m sorry this was supposed to be up at 12. Last night I couldn’t’ stop playing sims and I had no motivation to finish this. LOL it’s kinda messy sorry

It’s sad that he notices her throughout the night but the only words of affection that can come out of his mouth are hurtful.

Word count: 2765

It all began when Y/N first moved to Los Angeles, California for an opportunity to be an intern at a fabulous publishing office. Her cousin who lives in England had an ex-roommate Sarah, who just happened to be living in LA for quite some time now. Being the nicest out of all Y/N’s cousins, she gave their phone numbers to one another so they can meet up and Y/N can have a friendly face in the city. After that, Y/N got to know Mitch, Adam, Ny, Charlotte, and Jeff along with his girlfriend Glenne.

At first, she didn’t know they were in a band playing for THE Harry Styles. She just happened to know they were co-workers and they all had to move to adapt to their work schedule. Sarah would bring up a man named Harry and she always suggested that they should meet each other. Sadly, it took longer than usual since this man was always busy.

When Harry first heard about the new girl, Y/N, he was intrigued as to who this girl can be. One night while his band was over rehearsing in his home studio, Charlotte brought up the idea of inviting Y/N, which all Harry can say was yes due to him wanting nothing more than to make people happy. It was a shock really how when his eyes first met the new girl’s, he felt something in his stomach as if for some unknown reason he just had butterflies.

“Harry, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry Styles!” Sarah ecstatically says as she watches Y/N’s eyes light up. She didn’t know if she was going to tell her friends this but she was a big fan of Harry when he was still in One Direction and although she listens to his new solo music, she never realized that her friends were the music prodigies of his band!

“H-hi… Harry.” Y/N sweetly smiles as she takes a step forward to him. He was ultimately very pretty and if her heart had never beaten so fast for a boy before, today was the day.

“Hey.” He gives a small smile as he looks for Mitch’s eye contact instead. Mitch was confused about why Harry was acting all distant, usually, he’s very outgoing.

As that day progressed and many more outings with the group, Y/N grew the idea of feeling unwanted by Harry. Needless to say, when he would join her, Sarah and Mitch on a night out for fun. He would constantly ignore her. He never really looked her way and when she would ask him questions about himself, he was always giving short answers. For fuck’s sake, he gives out more information in a regular interview.

She didn’t want to believe he didn’t like her but actions speak louder than words and Y/N was starting to feel that he resented her.

“Happy Birthday Mitch!” Y/N leaps into Mitch’s arms after he opened his front door for her. Today was Mitch’s birthday and the whole gang decided to come over to his house to hang out and play games before heading out to the club. Y/N was very excited because it’s her first party after living in LA for months.

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here!” Mitch hugs her back just as tightly. As they pulled away, Mitch took his present so he could open them later. “Get some food and grab a beer, everyone is in the living room.” Y/N smiled happily as she took her shoes off and headed deeply more into the familiar house.

“Y/N, why were you the last one! I’ve been waiting for you!” Sarah stands up from the floor to hug the sweet girl. Although Y/N is younger than the rest of her friends, they never failed to make her feel just as accepted.

“I’m sorry, I had to reorganize my boss’ files last minute.” She pouts. Sarah mindlessly reaches out to give her a bottle of beer.

“It’s alright, I’ll be back. I’m just going to help Mitch in the kitchen.” Sarah walks out of the room but the silence is quickly filled as all her other friends are enthused by her presence. Y/N walks around, giving her friends hugs but at last, Harry is sitting alone on one of the couches. He didn’t really say hi to her when she first arrived and as she was walking around greeting everyone, he made sure to start a conversation with Adam.

“Hey, Harry.” Y/N greets the man in front of her politely. She was trying hard not to let him see her heart eyes for him. It was not a lie that Y/N developed a crush for him despite his cold attitude towards her. If anything, it made her want to know more about him.

“Hey.” Harry looks up and gives a small smile. He doesn’t try to reach out and hug her.

“Y/N, Come here and take a selfie with us!” Charlotte pats the seat beside her as she and Ny try to find the perfect angle on her phone.

As the night went by, the group of friends played various board games. The sun had just set and it was now their cue to head to the club. “Okay, I really don’t want to say this but we need two drivers to stay sober tonight.” Sarah bites her lip as everyone exits the house.

“I’ll stay sober tonight,” Adam speaks up. It wasn’t a surprise since he had two kids at home and he didn’t want to wake up in the morning making breakfast with a hangover. Lastly, the boy beside Mitch spoke up.

“Yeah, I don’t mind driving tonight.”

“Harry,” Ny interrupted, “Out of all of us, you should be the one drinking. You’ve had so many meetings this week.”

“No, it’s fine.” he laughs and flashes a smile. “If anything, I’ll call my driver but I don’t think I’ll be drinking too much.”

“Perfect! Let’s go!” Sarah cheered as she grabbed my hand to go in the car with her. In Adam’s car, Charlotte, Ny, Jeff and Glenne hopped in. Leaving Harry to take Mitch, Sarah, and Y/N.

As the two boys rode in the front, Sarah and Y/N sat in the back. With a nudge in the hip, Y/N looks at Sarah surprisingly. “What?”

“Are you okay?” Sarah whispers, hoping the boys in the front won’t notice as they’re in their own conversation. “You’ve been off throughout the whole night.” Y/N didn’t want to tell Sarah how she felt but the more she thought about it, she believed it wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Harry doesn’t like me.” She bites her lip as she stares out the window. She didn’t want Harry or anybody to see her cry over a stupid thing. As she looks up, she catches Harry already looking at her through the rear window. Coughing loudly, Harry looks away and replies to Mitch.

“That’s not true! He’s not the kind of guy who would hate anybody for no reason.” Sarah tries to convince Y/N.

“It’s okay don’t-”

“Harry, can I ask you a favour?” Sarah interrupts Y/N as she calls for the boy behind the wheel.

“Yeah.” Harry replies as he parks in the lot.

“Can you watch over Y/N tonight? It’s her first time in an exclusive night club. She’s kind of scared. Plus, I want to be with Mitch tonight.”

“Um no. I can’t do that.” Harry replies shortly as Mitch and Sarah’s eyes widen. “I want to have fun tonight. I don’t want to babysit. She’s a grown girl. Make her sit with Adam the whole night. I don’t really care.”

“Ha-” Mitch tries to speak up.

“Let’s go.” Harry interrupts as he steps out of the car.

If Y/N wasn’t thinking of crying tonight, she sure is when she gets home. Sarah softly mouths a sorry as the group walked in the club together.

TAO was the hotspot tonight and the room was on fire. The group was together earlier sipping on their drinks but as the night kept going, Jeff, Glenne, Ny and Charlotte decided to hit the dance floor leaving the rest at the table hanging out. As Y/N was coming back from the washroom to the table in the VIP area, she could hear their conversation.

“Harry, you know Sarah wasn’t asking you to babysit her. More of just talking to her and keeping an eye on her.” Mitch reasons as the man he was talking to kept staring at his drink.

“Well it doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to do it and I still don’t.”

“You know I was thinking, she may have a crush on you.” Adam teases as Mitch and Sarah laugh. “I mean every time I’m hanging out with you guys at lunch or something, she always asks where you are.”

“Maybe, she’s just curious!” Sarah slaps the table at the obvious thought.

“No, it’s different! Trust me. For example, remember when we went out for sushi last week, she kept looking at Harry and the guy was on the opposite end of the table. I think she has a thing for you.” Adam playfully shoves Harry.

“Who wouldn’t have a thing for him, he’s Harry Styles!” Mitch laughs louder taking a sip of his vodka. He was already slurring.

“Y/N is not my type. First off she’s like 22, She just turned legal to even be here. Secondly, she’s too...I don’t know how to say it… soft? I don’t think we’re compatible I can’t stand her when all she does is talk about stupid things. I simply just don’t like her.”

“Harry!” Sarah scolds him as she feels offended he would say those things about Y/N.

“Hey, are you here alone?” A man seductively says as he stands beside her, watching the same table she’s looking at. “You must be star struck seeing Harry Styles here. He comes often.” He smirks. Y/N was barely listening to the unnamed guy as she felt tears start to fall from her eyes. As she wipes them away, she looks up to see just Harry at the table. The others must’ve gone to the dance floor. Y/N walks back to the table, ready to grab her purse and leave. Her night was spoiled from the beginning because of Harry’s coldness but this was the last straw.

“Y/N, were you crying?” Harry watches the girl in front of him search for her purse in the booth.

“Hey beautiful, I didn’t even get your number!” The unnamed boy walks up to their table.

“Did you make her cry?” Harry stands up rolling up his sleeves. He angrily looks at the man. Y/N was so confused about why he was acting this way.

“What? No man. I saw her standing there alone for a few minutes. I’ll back off.” The guy steps back, looking back at Harry in shock. “No, I’ll come with you!” Y/N speaks up wiping away her final tears. “You’re not going anywhere,” Harry replies shortly, glaring at her.

“It’s my decision, not yours.” She replies with an attitude. Harry’s eyes soften as he realizes this is the first time she acted this way in front of him despite his coldness and attitude in the past months. He wasn’t stupid, he was acting rude on purpose despite it slowly killing him.

“Sarah told me to watch over-”

“You fucking said no!” Y/N slams her purse on the table in frustration.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs, just look for me.” The guy widens his eyes as he leaves the pair alone.

“Well, I said yes now!” Harry looks over the empty drinks on the table in frustration. “Why were you crying?” He asks rudely again, almost as if he’s annoyed that her crying messed up his whole night.

“Fuck you!” Y/N grabs her bag and leaves. She didn’t notice by the time she was out it was pitch dark and Harry had followed her. “Leave me alone Harry.”

“You think I’m going to let you go home in that tiny dress. Fuck’s sake!” Y/N turns around to scream at him. She’s had it. These past months, she may have had a crush on Harry but tonight made her realize that he’s nothing but an asshole who likes supermodels.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now! What is wrong with you! You barely spoke two words to me these past four months and now you’re concerned about what I’m wearing? Fuck you!”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay?! I heard what you told the others at the table while I went to the washroom. I just don’t fucking understand why you hate me! You neve-” She was crying uncontrollably as her body started shaking. Harry without another thought, took her in his arms for the first time.

“I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry.” He whispers as he rubs her back.

“You never gave me a chance and you knew I liked you! I put a stupid crumpled wrapper in your jacket at Ny’s BBQ last month. I was fucking drunk and I was waiting for you to at least confront me about it. You never did!”

“You’re right. I saw the paper.” He pulls away and takes her hand instead so he can walk her to his car. As he opened the door for her and she got in. He texted the group chat letting his other friends know he left to bring Y/N home. He also texted his driver to pick Sarah and Mitch up when they’re ready.

“Are you okay?” Harry whispers as he watches the girl stare at her hands.

“I get it you don’t like me. Maybe, it’s best if I find a new friend group so you won’t feel annoyed.”

“I don’t feel annoyed okay?”

“Then why are you so mean?” She looks up to see him staring at his wheel blankly.

“The first time I heard about you, I was really excited.”

“So I wasn’t up to your expec-”

“No, you were. I think you were above my expectations. When I saw you for the first time, I got butterflies. I know it’s stupid but I just wasn’t expecting you to be so pretty.”

“You don’t have to pull shit out your ass Harry.” Y/N pouts because she remembered that day clearly as possible. He gave a short hi then walked away as if he didn’t care she was part of the friend group now.

“No, it’s true.” He bites the inside of his cheek then looks at Y/N. “I thought you were really cute and I don’t know I guess I freaked.”

“Why? You’re so famous, you dated supermodels before and you can’t even hold a conversation with me.”

“I’ve only been in one serious relationship. To be honest, when she broke up with me I- I just felt like I needed a break from love. Then you came and it felt like my whole past relationship didn’t matter anymore although it still does. I’m not over it and I don’t want to develop any more feelings for you knowing that.”

“Harry…” Y/N takes hold of his hand out of his lap. “It’s not fair that you had to push me away without saying anything. I don’t even care if you liked me or not. I just wished you didn’t have to hurt me all the time.”

“I know.”

After that night, Harry expected Y/N to be more present during their group hangouts. He was no longer feeling restricted or uncomfortable with her because she knew the truth of how he felt. Although he was still nervous about seeing her again, he knew he would make it up to her so she can see who he truly is. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just been hurt way too many times.

But as time kept going and schedules got busier, Y/N stopped showing her face in the group. She had excuses lined up for each night and Harry was now the one who kept asking where she was. As his heart started to mend, her’s started to change a little blue.

Part 2!

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshots #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #one direction one shots #one direction #harry styles x reader #he's a meanie lol #A little blue

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teenage-mutant-ninja-freak · 4 years

Note

Heyyy! I love your stories! Can you write a scenario where the ready is Chubby/bbw and has a crush on Donnie but he has feelings for her too but is too shy to admit it in front of others?? A lil angst with fluff at the end?? Pwease and thank you!!

You stare into the mirror, turning side to side to see how you look from every angle. You sigh, exasperated. It’s no use you think to yourself I’d need a fucking whale bone corset to hide how fat I am.... You have this terrible habit of being so self deprecating and outright cruel to yourself when it comes to your weight. In reality, you’re a little chubby, you have love handles, thick thighs and a little more “something-something” around the belly which your mother used to tell you the boys prefer but, it wasn’t like you had men lining up to date you. No, there was one man, however, that had you heart and soul: Donatello.

He had always been more than kind to you and didn’t seem to notice your weight- something you hoped wouldn’t change tonight in this rather tight dress. You decided that this was *the* night, you were going to confess your feelings. Although you were having second thoughts while checking your reflection out. Maybe I should go for something baggier? But you talk yourself out of it. If Donnie actually wanted you, he’s have to take you chub and all. At least this way he can really see what he’s be getting himself into.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door to the lair, Leo had cut you a key months ago since you had become so close with all the boys. The occasion was Mikey’s birthday, you had his present (flashing light attachments for his skateboard wheels) in hand, covering your lower belly as if to hide yourself for a little longer while you still could.

“Y/n, you’re looking lovely!” Leo calls over to you with a huge smile

You smile back politely, his calling your name alerted everyone to your presence and Mikey comes running over to collect his gift- taking away your one last piece of security before they can finally see all of you.

Your eyes instinctively go to Donnie who looks you up and down once, eyes slightly wider than usual, and then looks away very quickly saying nothing. Oh no! What else could that mean other than thinking you’re fat? No “You look nice” or even a smile and little nod to acknowledge that you were here. Nothing. You can feel the heat rising your your face as your eyes become prickly from the tears building up behind them.

“Yeah I hope you like what I got you” you say to Mikey as he tears into the wrapping paper. “Just give me a moment” you head towards the bathroom.

Once the door is firmly shut and locked behind you, you give into the sobs that have been rising from your stomach the second Donnie looked at you that way. You glance at the mirror and want to punch it to shatters, there’s nothing you can see to love- nothing that he would love at least. You thank the gods you decided to wear waterproof mascara today as you dab at your face with toilet paper, trying not to smudge your foundation. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Donnie[’s voice comes from behind you.

“Y/n, are you ok in there? I thought I heard crying?”

“Fine. I’ll be a moment” you try and say calmly but the thickness of your voice gives you away that you’ve been crying.

You clean yourself up and open the door after practising a smile in the mirror, but you can’t conceal and big and wet your eyes look from the tears. You look at Donnie and want to start crying all over again, the way he looks you up and down once more.

“Ok, ok!” you break “you don’t have to rub it in! I look fat, I get it, enough with the eyeing me up and down!”

“You look fat? No, no not at all!” he holds his hands up as if you convey innocence. “I just couldn’t say in front of the others but...I wanted to tell you anyway”

“Tell me what?” you inquire

“That.... That when you walked though the door I felt like I’d seen an angel in person. That you radiate sunshine wherever you go and you have this amazing mind that never ceases to surprise me or make me smile and....And...I’m not sure if you like coffee, it’s kind of a heated debate. Is it too bitter or do you ruin coffee by adding sugar to it and-” He kind of begins to ramble at this point, but you get the picture

“Donnie!” You interrupt “I would love to get coffee with you some day. Hopefully soon...” You nervously twiddle your fingers in your other hand because you can’t believe this is really happening, that he feels the same way and you didn’t have to be the one to say it!

“See... That amazing mind can even see through my nervous bumbling words”

You both look at each other through seemingly fresh eyes now, now that you know how the other feels. Smiling like idiots at one another, Donnie holds his arm out to you and tilts his head to suggest you get back to the party. You gladly take his arm, feeling up his bicep a tiny bit because you’re feeling playful and bold since what he just told you. He giggles a little at your wandering hands.

You get back to the party and the eyes of his brothers turn to you, arm in arm and both blushing like school children.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen” Raph raises an eyebrow to show he’s impressed.

“Mikey!” Leo calls over “you owe me $10, he wasn’t too chicken to tell her”

You both look at each other before bursting out laughing and turning back to them.

“You could at least pretend to be surprised!” you say through belly laughs

They all feign a gasp before saying “no” in unison.

You spend the rest of the party in Donnie’s arms, it’s almost like now that he has you, he can’t let you go for anything- not that you mind in the slightest. If he could hold you for the rest of your life, you’d be happy and suddenly it occurs to you; if you play your cards right, he might just be able to hold you for the rest of your lives- together. The thought if it brings a warm smile to your face as you press your cheek closer against Donnie’s torso which evokes a small churr from him. Maybe you’d save the whale bone corset for another occasion, but for now, you’d found someone who cares about you for exactly as you are.

Fin

#donnie #donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #donnie one shot #chubby s/o #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles donnie #teenage mutant ninja turtles danatello #tmnt bayverse

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demonologist-in-denim · 3 years

Text

Humming to himself, Crowley dusted the rich dark cocoa powder into the soft white flour, and reached for his trusty wooden spoon. Blending ingredients in a mixer tended to create a smoother batter, but Crowley enjoyed the feel of the spoon in his hand, the sound it made scraping the bottom of the bowl, the hands-on experience of turning flour and sugar and eggs into cake.

When the dry ingredients were properly combined, he made a well in the center and carefully poured in the buttermilk, eggs, butter and vanilla. Instead of the usual red food coloring, Crowley added in fresh beet puree – just enough to give the cake a velvety ruby hue. The rich cocoa would cover the hint of earth with a delicate chocolate flavor. The mixture was then evening distributed between three pans and scooched into the oven.

While the cakes baked, he set to work on the frosting. The softened cream cheese and unsalted butter whipped together beautifully. He settled on using far less powdered sugar than the recipe called for, wanting the tangy sweetness of the cream cheese to accent the cake all on its own.

“Would have asked about any preferences in decoration,” Crowley muttered to himself as he applied the crumb coating to the cake, once it was done baking and properly cooled, “but that would have tipped my hand.” Simple yet elegant seemed appropriate. After applying a thick final layer of cream cheese frosting, Crowley piped fluffy buttercream swirls along the rim of the red velvet cake. A soft pile of crumbled extra cake crowned the top, and he tossed more along the side to create a dusting effect.

There was nothing left now except to take the photo.

Which, as fate would have it, turned out to be the difficult part.

He positioned the cake on the kitchen table, and snapped a few photos. Crowley hmmmed to himself. It wasn’t quite up to his standard of food porn. Perhaps he’d take a few more, just to be on the safe side. Until one was suitably flattering. He was still adjusting the cake, playing with the proper angle and lighting for the perfect shot, when Sam and Dean strolled into the kitchen.

For a moment, they lingered at a respectful distance. But Crowley could sense their curiosity like a gathering storm of rose petals, soft yet burdensome.

“Can I help you two with something?”

Disbelief and delight were tugging a one-sided smile out of Sam. “Is – is that for Valentine’s Day?”

Valentine’s Day? Crowley narrowed his eyes at the elegant dessert. Bloody hell, the cake was red and white, wasn’t it? He hadn’t considered that when a bit of carefully applied questioning had disclosed the recipient’s cake preferences.

Crowley mulled the situation over. He couldn’t answer in the affirmative. That would mean he had intentionally crafted the cake as a celebration of gushy hearts and the sweet delirium of – internally, Crowley cringed – love. But he also couldn’t reply with a defensive and definitive “no”. That would only open him up to further, unwelcome inquiry.

He settled for the more characteristically dismissive third option.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” Crowley steadfastly went back to attempting to capture the perfect photo with his phone. “I don’t bother myself keeping track of that sort of thing.”

Dean eyed the demon knowingly. “Yeah, well, our Netflix recommendations would say otherwise.”

Crowley glowered at the hunter.

“Whatever the occasion,” Sam offered up as his brother idled over to the cake, “that’s professional-grade baking. You’ve got a real talent. The frosting, the whole look? Seriously, I’m impressed.”

The arrow of this flannelled cupid hit its mark. Crowley felt a slight blush of pleasure, despite himself. Casual, unsolicited praise? From Sam Winchester? He seriously contemplated the possibility that Sam had been exposed to some sort of low-grade, poorly-concocted love spell that had bloomed into amiability, or maybe it had been released as a pink mist in the bunker’s common room, and Crowley had unknowingly avoided the worst of it. That seemed like the sort of malarkey that would happen around here on what, apparently, was Valentine’s Day.

Because Crowley found himself saying, “Thank you, Sam,” with actual sincerity. Moments such as these reminded Crowley that he was rather fond of these two boys, after all.

That was the moment Dean ran his finger along the edge of the cake, carrying off a large dollop of frosting from one side. The whole cake just looked so enticing! Dean was more of a pie man himself, but Crowley’s culinary expertise had the tendency to tempt him in surprising ways.

He was halfway to lifting the frosting-festooned finger to his mouth when he caught sight of the expression on Crowley’s face. Sam’s own face was a rotting lemon. Dean’s hand stilled, mouth still open.

“Um,” he muttered.

Dean looked at the offending finger, uncertain of what to do next. He started to put the frosting back where it belonged, thought better of it, looked for a napkin, and reluctantly settled for ashamedly completing the crime by depositing the frosting in his mouth.

Which was a mistake. Because now he knew the cake was friggin’ delicious, and Dean seriously wondered if maybe Crowley could manage his little photo shoot even if there was a slice of the cake missing.

As if he could read his brother’s mind, Sam shook his head in the most supreme disappointment. “Dean.”

“What?! Sorry!”

Reminding himself that murdering one Winchester brother would only end with him being ganked by the other one – though there were certainly times it seemed worth it – Crowley took a deep inhalation, and let it go. Cakes were ultimately meant to be eaten, even if it was by inconsiderate louts and lumberjacks.

“I’ll accept your apology, if you cut everyone else a slice before digging in yourself. I’m sure one of the photos I took before your little indiscretion will suffice.”

“Alright! Cake!” Dean cheered, while Sam just closed his eyes.

Crowley thumbed through the multitude of pictures he’d taken, and settled on the most appealing of the lot. Then he opened up his Bumblr app, and made a new post:

@petrichoravellichor – in honor of your birthday today. Heard from a mutual that you have a particular fondness for red velvet cake. Hope it’s to your liking. – C

He sent the message and image off with a satisfied smile, then set about getting plates and forks, as this cake was obviously not going to survive the interest of the Winchester brothers much longer.

As Crowley was pulling plates out of the cupboard and Dean was cutting into the cake, Castiel wandered into the kitchen, attention entirely given over to his phone. The angel had graduated from texting and emojis to social media and memes, and sometimes he could be found scrolling through Twitter and Instagram with a rapt fascination that would out-fixate even the most plugged-in FOMO-obsessed teenager. There was a chiming sound as he entered the kitchen, as notification of a new post.

“Dude,” Dean was grinning from ear to ear, “Crowley made cake!” He pointed with delight at the dessert.

Cas looked up from his phone, saw the cake, and halted in the middle of the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes, examining the red velvet cake on the table in front of him. Then he looked back down at his phone in consternation. Cas looked at the cake again. Looked back at his phone, and then slowly, he looked at Crowley.

The demon looked from the angel to the cake, his eyes increasing in size as realization dawned.

“Is that – ?”

“Don’t you say one bloody word, angel!” Crowley blustered, a rush of red to his face further colored by the mortification of such abject exposure. “Not one word!”

And before anyone could say anything else, Crowley shoveled a huge slice of not-at-all birthday cake onto a plate, shoved it into Cas’ hand, and quickly excused himself from the kitchen.

“What,” Sam wondered to the startled room, “was that all about?”

Cas continued to stand in the middle of the room, cake in one hand and phone in the other, attempting to come to terms with having inadvertently discovered a fandom mutual was also a real-life friend, and the one he would have least expected. Unsettled, he took comfort in the certainty their shared mutual would appreciate the well wishes on their birthday.

Dean shrugged, merrily flipped the serving knife in his hand, then waved the tip at his brother. “That’s Crowley for you,” he observed, good mood undeterred. “Dude would cut out his own heart and blend it to make red cake batter before admitting to it, but deep down, he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear who wuvs hugs. Speaking of which – you see that giant pink moose Eileen sent you? Friggin’ adorable.”

Dean proceeded to cut a huge slice for himself, leaving a worried looking Sam staring down at the blood-red cake. Then the hunter stepped around a disconcerted Castiel, patting the angel on the shoulder, and strolled out of the kitchen.

***

Happy birthday, Petra! I’m sure you’re tired of your birthday comingling with Valentine’s Day, but when you said your cake preference was red velvet cake, what was I to do? ;)

If you’re wondering exactly why – or even how – Crowley became a member of the in-world spn fandom, you can find out here. This fic will be posted on AO3 in my Tumblr Ficlets after posting on Tumblr.

Image sources here: X

#crowley #spn ficlet #spn fandom #spn crack #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #one of the boys #fandom life #happy birthday #to you!#this was so much fun to write #i *may* have passed along to Crowley #your cake preference #hope you have a great day!

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fayeimara · 3 years

Text

Meant To Be || One For Every Billion

6. By My Side | Pt 5

It takes you just a moment to understand his last message but you're already looking up as the dots are being connected and there he is, walking towards you with a real smirk on his real face.

So when he reaches you, you immediately say, "Definitely cute." and watch his mouth drop as he blushes.

Pretty boy didn't think you'd say it, did he? People should really know better than to dare you.

Although he gathers his composure pretty fast, responding after a beat, "Not cuter than you."

You laugh and shake your head, finishing the rest of your drink before standing, "Do you want anything?"

"I'm good, I just had a milkshake from the snack bar on the corner."

He moves to let you pass by him, following your lead as you move to exit the lounge and comment, "That's how you got here so fast. Where are the others?"

"Decided to do their own things, I guess. I think Maki was tired. I don't know what Iwa-chan and Mattsun are up to."

"Uh huh." You had a pretty good idea. They're probably busy being some of the best wingmen ever. That or Toru just ditched his friends, but you don't think he'd really ever do that.

But he'd also be complaining a little more that they ditched him if he didn't have some sort of idea so... you don't know what to think. Which is becoming a constant issue in his presence but it doesn't feel bad or scary.

At this point, you're not going to question it. If everyone is okay and happy, then you're going to focus on the now. Toru is really good at bringing that out in you, you realize as you come to a stop in the warm night air.

Turning to face him with a smile, you ask, "So, then, any requests from the birthday boy?"

His eyes light up with excitement and he responds, "Yes, but it's a surprise!"

"Okay, but.. shouldn't I be surprising you?" You question as he starts to lead you away from the lounge entrance.

"You already did! Now I know we have all night to enjoy the rest of the park."

"Or at least until it closes in a couple hours."

"Then we can gather anyone who's still up and have a party in my room!"

"Yeah, that's real ambitious. We'll see on that but- what's first?"

He stops briefly when he sees a cotton candy stall and answers in his sing-song manner, "First, something sweet for my angel."

Oh he's so cute. Seriously. But you let him buy it for you before prompting, "And now?"

"And now," he looks over at you with a satisfied smile, "we enjoy a ride down a river in a boat." He reveals, just as the two of you reach the entrance to the small, peaceful dock.

"Don't they close the river rides after dark?"

"In ten minutes, actually. So we should hurry because it'll drop us off to our next destination."

You look at him in surprise as you both join the relatively short line. Did he have this planned for before, when he thought you were going to leave? It's a little bittersweet because that's really thoughtful but, it also makes you sad to realize that would mean that maybe he thought the two of you wouldn't see each other again until the next time you visited. It also made you question... Were you unintentionally pushing him away when you visited?

Or you're just overthinking as per usual and he just puts this much effort into it every time he's spending time with a girl he might like. Right.

The two of you reach the front of the line in just a couple minutes and listen to the instructions from the staff member who tries to hand you down into the automated boat. You say 'try' because Toru's hand cuts in between and he helps you instead, giving the guy a pretty condescending smile. He's not even threatened, just.. acting like there was no other possibility because, well, it's not even a contest. You can't lie, you like it.

You settle down and he gets in after you, pretty steady himself as he elegantly plops down into the seat next to you, his arms stretching forward for a brief moment before leaning back into the seat, shifting his legs forward, and placing his hands in his jacket pockets. And whatever he just did there.. that's pretty hot too.

As your boat moves away from the dock, you're struck by the romantic atmosphere of the ride. The quiet melody of the water you're gliding through, the trees dotting the sides of the river that sway with a breeze every so often, their branches reaching towards the water like the leaves are looking for a cool, gentle place to lay. You and Toru, under the stars that are peeking slightly out of the sky, like shy observers to your secret little adventure.

He isn't saying anything either, studying the environment and in his own thoughts you suppose, but you don't mind the silence. You do, however, offer him the cotton candy, tilting the base of the cone you're holding so it's angled towards him. He pulls a hand free from his pocket to reach out and grab a tuft of the cloud-like candy before popping it in his mouth with a smile.

"Do you think about where you want to be in the future?" He's looking up at the sky, head tilted back against the seat, when you look over at his question.

You bite your lip, considering what he's asking. You think way too much about it sometimes, you suppose. "How far in the future?"

He looks over at you in surprise, like he expected a quick answer instead of your clarifying question. Now it's his turn to think. "I guess in a few years, after graduating. What do you want to do?"

"What I want to do is probably very different from where I might be, I think."

"How so?"

You're both looking at each other, lost in another bubble together, so you try to be as honest to yourself as you want to be with him, "In an ideal world, I would either write or play volleyball. Realistically, I'll end up tied to... my family business more than I'd like. Which means I likely won't have the time or energy left to do the things I love."

His eyes are wide, you think he's realized he just turned a mountain, not a rock. Maybe even you wouldn't know what to say in response to someone who just said what you did. But then he surprises you yet again, "If you know what you want to do, what stops you from making sure that's where you end up instead, no matter what?"

"You know," you smile at him softly, "That's exactly the battle I'm currently fighting. So we'll see how it turns out, I guess."

"So," his voice turns teasing, "will you pick writing or volleyball, when you win?"

"Probably writing," you answer with a laugh, releasing the weight that just took a break on your shoulders.

"Why?"

"You love volleyball, right? So much that you can't see yourself doing anything but that for the rest of your life?"

He sends another shocked, wide-eyed look your way but you're surprised he doesn't realize how clear that is to read on him, how easily you figured it out really early in the course of your correspondence this past year. You tuck that away for another day and continue your answer to his question.

"I love both like that and, the way I see it, I'm lucky to be able to love more than one thing at a time. And because I do, they'll both always have a place in the future I want. So it's not really that I'm making a choice between one or the other, I'd be incapable of that. Volleyball will always be in my life, even if it isn't the same way it is now. It's just that I'll pursue writing as my vocation while continuing to enjoy volleyball however I can."

"So you won't go pro." He doesn't state it as a question but it sounds like there's still one in there somewhere.

"I don't think so. That's... a little more complicated."

He shifts to turn more towards you, pulling another piece of the cotton candy you're holding between the two of you and encouraging, "I've seen your videos, Y/n. You're as much, if not more, talented than either of your cousins."

You laugh again, "Aren't you a little biased, Oikawa?"

"Sure, but I'm still telling you the truth as I see it. You've already filled the gaps they lack as players, you almost seem to have none. You're part of the powerhouse teams in your region, even country. And you can only improve from there."

"Yeah. But it's not talent or skill or even anything about volleyball itself that makes me so sure about its role in my life."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I promise, I will another day. But I know it'll be a long discussion and I want to hear your answer."

"My answer?"

"Where you want to be after you graduate."

"Don't you already know?" His lips pull up into a confident smile, "Because you said it, Y/n-chan. I can't see myself doing anything but playing volleyball for my future."

"No matter how you get there?"

"No matter how I get there." He confirms, watching you with a tilt to his head, "But I will get there."

"Of that, I have no doubt. I've seen you play, too."

And like that, his smile twists into a satisfied smirk, "Just on video, huh? You still have to come to one of my games in person, though."

"Oh, I do, do I?" You're grinning as the two of you fall back into lighthearted teasing.

"Of course. I think there's still a thing or two I could teach you."

"I'm sure. Without a doubt."

By the time the boat reaches the end of its line, the cotton candy is completely gone, much like any space between you both. The two of you are just short of leaning into each other, your sides already pretty much pressed against each other for most of the fifteen minute ride, as you and Toru talked and joked about various things with only the blinking stars and swaying trees as your witnesses.

You take a deep breath in as your boat approaches the dock, starting to pull away from him slightly, but you also catch the now-familiar scent of some product Toru uses and it smells divine. It's the sort of scent that makes you want to lean into his chest or neck and just relax while he holds you.

Oh my god. You need to slap yourself. That was pathetic, right? And after just one romantic boat ride, holy shit. You still have another hour and a half to go unless you completely bail on him. And for what? Because you caught yourself slipping? Again?

Ugh. No. You're here to be a good friend. And okay, take it slow and see what else could be between the both of you. But that shit wasn't slow.

You've pulled away, physically and metaphorically, by the time your boat docks but you still accept his hand as he helps you off, blocking the attendant yet again. He doesn't pull away though and neither do you, so you're still holding hands as you and Toru walk to your next destination.

Just taking it slow. Right... Shit.

Turns out your next destination is the carousel. You two keep switching horses, messing around until you're politely removed. After which you hit up some of the rides like the one that spins really fast so that you're pressed back against the reclined wall, or the one where you sit in a claw that swings you up, down, around, etc.

Following that, it's mini coasters and then upgraded back to some of your favourite thrill coasters from earlier in the day. You tell him it's a completely different experience at night. After the first one, he agrees. So you two hit up four more.

By the time the two of you get off the last one, teasing and laughing about who was screaming louder (it was him, obviously), you only have a little over twenty minutes left before the park closes. So your hand finds Toru's, your fingers lacing together with ease and electric familiarity by now, and you pull him along in order to run back to the hotel through the remaining crowd.

"Why are we going back?" He's barely even out of breath as he easily catches up to race beside you, but you guess neither are you. Thank you, conditioning.

"It's a surprise!"

The concierge barely startles when he sees two teens just run through, raising his hand to call out before lowering it in defeat. You're already gone anyways. You reach the elevator bay and hit the button for your floor, thankfully the door to the middle one opens immediately with a smooth tone. When the two of you get in for the ride up to the top floor, the pace steadies and you're just looking at each other while you each catch your breath, then you burst out laughing again.

"Okay so you're still not going to tell me?" There's a little bit of mock attitude in his tone but it's washed away by his genuine smile.

"Just wait."

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor and you're pulling him out with the doors barely open. The two of you reach your room and you swipe the card over the lock, opening the door, pulling you both through and closing it in swift motions before letting go of his hand and running to the balcony.

"Come on!"

You look back to encourage him forward as you open the double doors and he strolls up to your side before you both step out together. Just as you reach the rail, faint music starts to drift up from the park's speakers, getting louder and louder until you can hear its strains clearly, playing the orchestral melody that indicates the park will be closing in fifteen minutes.

It's what you can see only from up here that you wanted to show him. Because with the music that plays, there are lights quite literally at every inch of the park that turn on in an incredible show.

Many people gather on the streets or at particular locations for the ground level view. But those are always crowded and honestly a pretty limited view of the show's true scale. It's the guests who have park facing rooms and know to stop for the view from their balconies at this time that experience the true and complete nature of the stunning spectacle.

"Wow." He barely says it, it's more like a word he releases with his breath, but you're so happy knowing you were right.

This is the perfect ending to an incredibly special day that deserves no less. You and Toru stand there, side by side for the full fifteen minutes, still under the carpet of stars that seem a little closer from up here. The two of you hold hands, arms and sides pressed against each other as you both lean on the balustrade and listen to the crescendos and decrescendos, glancing at each other with smiles and the occasional comment. Sometimes pointing to a corner or edge of the park laid out beneath you to pull the other's attention with a tug on your linked hands.

And when the music starts its final rise only to move into its final descent, you look instead at Toru and find him looking back at you. With your hands still linked, you lean into him further to place a soft kiss on his cheek, mirroring the one from a year ago, this on his other side. Then you lean back to look at his flustered but happy face with a soft smile and add your wish for him to your blessing-

"Happy Birthday, Toru."

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Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-ngl but that moment when Toru takes a seat in the boat was fully inspired by my memory of him at the Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa match, just after Iwa hops over the seat like wow, but then the way Oikawa stretches out from his previous position... just more wow. Sorry, I can't explain it. I love that scene (and the others with those two that follow) and I don't know if I'm the only one it stuck with like this...

A/N: Okay...time for the vent... I will be the first to say that I love Kuroo and Suna primarily, and both the Miyas are a close second.. but I DO NOT KNOW HOW OIKAWA KEEPS PULLING THIS ON ME like... this whole episode really got away from me again. I mean, I did like Oikawa as a close second to Kuroo (who's been my steady the whole time, js, it's unwavering) for a LONG time before being intro'd to Inarizaki but... then Suna just came in and turned my head until I was like.. Oikawa, who? But maybe this just goes deep, so I didn't know he was always still in there. He IS incredibly lovable after all, you can't change my mind about that, and I really respect him as a complex character and okay, yeah, I honestly can't remember who was my first between him and Kuroo at this point because I was simping for them both before I really even remembered their names (and was trying to avoid being teased by my bf for rewatching scenes with them since he had to bribe me to watch the show in the first place). Anyways, I don't know what I'm saying anymore since I desperately need to go to sleep, maybe for a whole day, so I hope you guys like this one! Because.. just, yeah. Toru <3 I guess

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