#another birthday comes and goes and the birthday fic tradition continues
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happy birthday quest blooming panic what a lovely day it is indeed. was i awake at ungodly hours trying to come up with an idea that i would be able to write into a half decent birthday fic? maybe, maybe not you'll never know yes i was. anyway my internet was trying to fight me all week so it's been a Time trying to finish this on time but it was worth it bc quest beloved deserves a happy birthday and a happy birthday ONLY. if i see any angst today it's on sight. see u next month for xyx gamers. hopefully my internet won't hate me by then lmao.
Quest shifted under the covers, finally waking from a night of comfortable sleep. The curtains were still closed and the room still dim enough that he could have easily fallen back asleep for another hour or two, though his work schedule would certainly hinder those plans. Quest rolled over, eyes closed again as he reached to pull you in close to his chest. Only, as his arm came down on the spot you always slept in, he was met with empty space. The sheets still held the faintest lingering warmth but you were decidedly not there. Quest sat up, the heel of his hand rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before finding his glasses so that he might discover where you had gone. It wasn't rare for you to wake up first, but you almost always waited until he had woken too. Or, if you had to leave, then you'd at least wake him up with a soft and sleepy kiss goodbye. It was a tradition he felt almost lost without as he rose from the inviting warmth of the bed in search of you. Last night you'd mentioned needing to run a few errands in the morning but would you really have left so early? Or without telling Quest? It wasn't that he disliked you leaving without him knowing, but rather that he would have wanted to go with you.
In the time since you and Quest had moved in together, he dearly treasured any outing you took as a couple; no matter how mundane or boring the task might seem, Quest found it all so incredibly domestic and he adored spending that time with you. As he sleepily explored your shared home, calling out your name in his husky morning voice, Quest began to grow more and more concerned. Realistically, he knew you'd probably just headed out to run some errands but that semblance of logic did little to quell his unease. However, instead of opting to let those thoughts fester, Quest continued with his morning routine and brewed himself a coffee. If anything, it'd serve to wake him up a little and steal away the aching tiredness that still dwelled in his eyes. As he manouevered about the kitchen, Quest's eyes found the calendar that hung beneath the clock on the kitchen wall. His birthday. Every year it came around and still managed to take him by surprise. His birthday was never really an event that Quest waited in anticipation for, particularly in his adult years—he barely even remembered the last time he celebrated it. Though he certainly remembered the gentle scolding you gave him the previous year when he accidentally let slip that it was his birthday. He hadn't hidden the fact intentionally but the thought to share it simply hadn't crossed his mind, a result of his own lacklustre views on the so-called 'special' day.
This was to be his first birthday since moving in together—and also the first one that you were aware of. A thought flashed in Quest's mind that perhaps the reason you'd snuck out so early was because you were planning something for his birthday. Neither one of you had discussed potential plans so Quest naturally assumed the day would pass by fairly uneventfully. It would’ve been nice to celebrate, of course, but he hadn’t dwelled on the thought long enough to consider asking what plans you might want to make. As Quest leaned against the kitchen counter taking his first sip of coffee, he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and you arriving home. Within moments you were in the kitchen, a pleasantly surprised look on your face to see Quest awake and about.
"Hello, you." You hadn't yet shrugged off your coat as you bounced over to Quest, nose tinted pink from the biting chill of the morning air.
Quest slid a mug towards you, prepared exactly how you liked it as you came up beside him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday, love. Thought you'd still be in bed by the time I got back."
"Not worth having a lie in without you there," Quest hummed, taking another sip of coffee. "Where did you run off to, anyway?"
You spared a quick glance toward the front door of the apartment before noting Quest's poor attempts to hide his avid curiosity. "I was hoping you'd still be asleep so I could make the surprise more exciting but I guess this will do. Go sit on the sofa and close your eyes. And keep 'em closed. No peeking or no present."
"Being with you is enough of a gift for me," Quest teased, his hands reaching for your waist while you playfully tried to push him away.
"You are disgustingly cute sometimes. But also I hate it." Despite your words, you relinquished to Quest's hold on you, relishing in the warmth of his bare chest on your cheek. The two of you stayed there, suspended in time, until the anticipation of seeing Quest's reaction to his birthday gift overcame you. "There's plenty of time for birthday cuddles later. For now, ass on couch and eyes closed."
Quest chuckled, amused by your impatience but he listened to your instruction this time around, planting himself down and closing his eyes. There was a hint of temptation to open an eye just to see how you might react but he decided against it, feeling your eyes scrutising him for a sign of disobedience. Satisifed that he wouldn't sneak a glance, you headed back to the front door where you had left Quest's birthday present—the most important of them anyway. You had some smaller gifts hidden away in your wardrobe but those could wait until later. You had a strong suspicion that Quest might care for this one a little more.
"Okay, open your eyes in 3, 2, 1."
Quest's eyes opened, adjusting to the light once more as he looked for a change in the scenery. At his confusion, you told him to look by his feet. Sniffing the floor by Quest's feet was a small labrador puppy, a bright golden colour as it explored all the new sights and sounds.
"You didn't," Quest said, disbelief and surprise all over his features.
"I did." You grinned at Quest as he reached down to pick up the puppy, now excitedly greeting its new father. "You're always saying how you'd love to get a dog someday so I thought it was about time to grant that wish."
Quest smiled at you as the puppy bounded off to explore the apartment, paws skittering along the floors. His hands sought out yours, fingers intertwining and interlocking as he blinked away the tears that collected in the corners of his eyes. "Have I ever told you that you're a literal angel?"
"Once or twice," you laughed as Quest pulled you onto his lap, arms enveloping your body as he buried his face into the crook of your shoulder, leaving a smattering of kisses on the skin.
"Well I'll say it again. You're an angel. What did I do to deserve you?"
"None of that," you reprimanded, pulling back from his grasp and taking his face in your hands. "You are deserving of it all. But we should probably go find our new baby. Before they get to your gifts before you can." You moved from your spot in front of Quest, hands finding his as though there were magnets, or a string binding the two of you together; wherever one went, the other was assured to follow no matter the physical distance that may emerge between them. Whatever plans Quest had been expecting, this was so far removed from how he'd thought the day might go. But he could not have felt more loved than in this moment. If Quest could bottle any emotion, it would be this one: pure, unadulterated adoration and appreciation for all that you were. Quest couldn't imagine a life without you in it—didn't want to imagine such an existence. Before he had met you, Quest was merely drifting through life. Sure, he had plenty of nice memories from his time in the server, but he hadn't felt like he was truly living until that fateful day you made your way into his life. Since then, Quest felt as though he was finally seeing in colour, finally experiencing life and all its wonders as they should be experienced. And, as he watched you laughing as the small puppy came bounding into your arms, Quest knew this was the exact brand of happiness that he would never let slip from his grasp. So with all the love in his eyes, he came to your side where he strived to be for as long as he lived.
#blooming panic#blooming panic x reader#blooming panic fanfic#blooming panic quest#blooming panic quest x reader#another birthday comes and goes and the birthday fic tradition continues#i am looking at october and eventual xyx birthday writing#the cycle of dread continues#will i be able to think of an idea and write it or will my brain decide to break and give me nothing#tune in next month to find out#what is creativity what is inspiration who am i what kind of mess is my tumblr#anyway#mars writes
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Some fic. Ben, Rook, shopping for a Kevin.
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“You know, I’m kind of glad Kevin doesn’t celebrate the holiday,” Ben said as he dragged Rook through the third store of the day. “It’s bad enough trying to find him a birthday present, think I’d snap if I had to get a Christmas one of top of it.” Trailing just behind, Rook nodded slowly.
“I am sure,” he said with a complete lack of certainty. It was his first winter on the planet and while he would have been taking an interest in all the celebrations going on anyway, his partner being a local had made it all the more imperative to throw his all into understanding the season. He didn’t see how it all added up, but he was trying.
Ben had already sworn up and down that he had found the perfect present for him, though as far as Rook was concerned that had been when Argit left town for a week to participate in Kevin’s preferred seasonal celebration.
“Could you not just get him something for his car,” he asked, trawling his mind for what he knew of the man from their yet brief friendship. Ben scoffed.
“You would think that, but no.” He huffed, continuing to go through a rack full of sweaters. “He’s so fucking picky about what goes with his car.”
“A book then, maybe,” Rook offered with a hum, only to get another huff in return.
“Every time I find a book I think he’d like, I find out later he already had it. That’s the problem with him-” Ben turned around, shaking a finger. “-if there’s something he wants, he gets it himself. If he doesn’t, Argit gets it for him. If there’s something he wants that doesn’t fall into either of those categories? Nobody knows what it is, because he doesn’t bother to say anything!” Groaning, he turned back to the sweaters.
Rook was fiercely reminded of the struggle of finding gifts for Shim, who never seemed to want anything specific.
“No wonder you are focusing on clothes.” He’d done that three years in a row, until his father had pulled him aside and told him she would probably appreciate her new clothes at the turn of the year more if she weren’t getting them for everything else as well. Then he’d been right back to the struggle. Luckily now he would be able to send exotic Earth fare to them all. Certainly, she’d enjoy that.
“Did you know, he didn’t even bother to tell us his birthday was coming up when we first started hanging out? We learned a week beforehand, by pure chance! He was going to just let it pass by!” Reaching out to pat Ben’s shoulder, Rook continued turning the options in his mind.
“What is Gwendolyn getting him,” he settled on, “maybe you could coordinate?” Silently Ben stepped away from the sweaters, turning Rook’s way with his mouth set in a line. He pulled his phone from his pocket, fiddled with it a heartbeat, then held it up. The screen showed the continuous texts between himself and his cousin. The latest was highlighted.
This man is impossible
“Ah.” Yeeep, as bad as his sister. As he considered whether or not he should also join in on this tradition or at least save himself the struggle for this year- they hardly knew each other, it might be fine, right?- Ben stuffed his phone away and returned to his search.
“I’d put fifty on her just taking him out to dinner again if I didn’t need it to get him any-fucking-thing…”
#fanfic#ben 10#fuck it tagging#hopefully i can get a proper 'kevin birthday'-themed fic out today but if not#at least you get this
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✧• 100 FOLLOWERS AND 500 NOTES MILESTONE •✧
IN CELEBRATION OF REACHING 100 FOLLOWERS AND 500 NOTES ON [ PROBLEM SOLVED BUT YOU GOT ANOTHER ONE RISING, MAKE IT FIVE ( PART 2 ) ], I'VE DONE SOME ARTWORKS FOR THE NRC FRESHMEN!
THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME TO COME THIS FAR, DARLINGS! I WILL STRIVE TO POLISH UP MY SKILLS IN HOPES THAT MY WRITINGS BRING JOYS TO ALL OF YOUR HEARTS! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯
I SINCERELY HOPE YOU WILL CONTINUE TO ACCOMPANY ME ON THIS JOURNEY! ( ◜‿◝ )♡
ACE TRAPPOLA : YOU'RE SO EASY TO BULLY, PREFECT...OF COURSE, THE BULLYING WILL BE DONE BY ME ONLY AND NO ONE ELSE
DEUCE SPADE : YOUR THIGHS ARE SOFTER THAN I EXPECTED, PREFECT...DO YOU MIND IF WE STAYED LIKE THIS JUST A BIT LONGER?
JACK HOWL : THERE'S NOTHING I HAVE TO SAY BECAUSE...YOU KNOW HOW I REALLY FEEL RIGHT?
SEBEK ZIGVOLT : YOUR TEMPTING SHAMEFULNESS, YOUR UNDIGNIFIED SEDUCTION...KEEP IT TO MY EYES ONLY, HUMAN
EPEL FELMIER : SEEING YOU SO BEAUTIFUL LIKE THIS....I'LL WORK HARD FOR YOU, (Y/N)! THEN, YOU'LL PROUDLY CALL ME AS YOUR MAN!
WHEN I SAY SEBEK'S COAT WAS COMICALLY LARGE ON (Y/N), THIS IS WHAT I ENVISIONED ☝️(๑´•.̫ • `๑)
I HOPE EVERYONE ARE HAPPY WITH WHAT I'VE DONE FOR THIS MILESTONE CELEBRATION!
I'LL MAKE IT A TRADITION WHERE IF A POST OF MINE REACHES 500 NOTES AND/OR REACH ANOTHER 100 OF FOLLOWERS, I'LL MAKE ARTWORKS ACCORDINGLY FOR THE WRITING POST! THIS ALSO GOES FOR THE NSFW ONES SO KEEP OUT ON THE LOOK, DARLINGS~ ᕙ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ
AFTER ALL, IT'S ONLY RIGHT I SPOIL MY DARLINGS WITH SOME GOOD ARTWORK FOR SUPPORTING MY WRITINGS (つ✧ω✧)つ
I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT SINCE MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING SOON, I'LL BE DOING A GOOGLE FORM ON A BIRTHDAY BASH SPECIAL WHERE THE CHOSEN CHARACTER WILL BE WRITTEN IN BIRTHDAY SPECIAL FIC INCLUDING AN ARTWORK OF THEM AS WELL!
HERE'S THE LINK TO THE FORM AND HAPPY VOTING!
STAY SAFE AND TAKE CARE EVERYONE!~
#twisted wonderland#cravingsfromatwistedone#twisted wonderland x reader#x reader#disney twisted wonderland#jack howl#sebek zigvolt#epel felmier#deuce spade#ace trappola#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#jack howl x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#epel felmier x reader#twisted art from hana#twisted wonderland art#twisted wonderland fanart#twst ace#twst deuce#twst jack#twst epel#twst sebek#fem reader#female reader#twst art#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland n/sfw#implied n/sfw#slight n/sfw
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summary: how the genshin boys give hugs
characters: childe, diluc, kaeya, razor, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli
style & genre: bulleted & written; fluff
warnings: none
notes: a self-indulgent fic for my birthday yay, i hope you guys enjoy this I just really want a hug but it’s hard to see friends right now 🤧🤧
Childe
sometimes a side hug or quick embrace; sometimes not because there are days he never wants to let you go
his outward persona is lost because he trusts you
once his arms come around you, you feel like the life is being squeezed out of you, in a good way of course
there are still traces of his past he has yet to share but he wants you to know how much you mean to him
Paimon had stayed behind to finish that chop suey Su Er'niang offered you both. You finished your share, giving some to your companion, and you left to sight-see around Liyue.
It’s different from Mondstadt and there were quite a bit of things to get done here for your journey. Your feet take you to the stairs leading up to the Wanwen Bookstore and you hope no one has bought out the book you wanted to finish.
Before you could take a step upwards, someone grabs your wrist and pulls you into a small alley. You hand comes up to summon your sword but then your vision is obscured by a head of copper hair. You gasp when his arms tighten around your torso while he heaves a sigh beside your ear. He lets go after a few seconds and you can see the smile on his face.
“Just a recharge,” Childe winks and turns around to get back to what he was doing.
Diluc
he gives the type of hugs that hold so much emotion that he hides from the public
his body runs warm and appreciates when you snuggle further into him when he has you
his hugs are never quick and he likes to take his time, his hold tight enough to make you feel safe but loose enough to allow you to leave if you so wish
rarely initiates them but will take full control when you’re in private
You could tell when the work he had was becoming too much for the night. The annoyance tainted his handsome features and you just wanted to take it all away. Diluc worked hard, everyone knew that, but he was only human.
You give him the letter Jean wrote out and proceed towards the door to get back to your own duties. Your name rolls off his lips and when you turn around to look at him he’s gesturing for you to get closer. When you’re mere inches from his desk he stands up and places one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, burying his face into your neck.
The temperature outside was chilly and his naturally warm body contrasts to how you felt prior. You can feel him frown against you when he feels how cold your skin is.
“Will you be coming back tonight?”
Kaeya
he gives you many hugs, anywhere and at anytime
there isn’t a day where you never receive one and if that every happens, the next day will include even more
will almost always lift you off your feet and/or catch you off guard; he likes to keep you on your toes
even when you’re just standing around waiting for another mission or watching the sun set he’ll hold you close against his side
He’s late. Again.
You finished off the last of the slimes around Starfell Lake with little to no damage to yourself, luckily, but someone was supposed to assist you to get the job done faster. You look around for any more enemies before kneeling down and dipping your hand into the water. It was cool against your skin, relaxing you after the day’s work. But it might have been just a bit too peaceful.
A force pushes you forward and you close your eyes to brace for the inevitable impact into the water. You wait a few seconds before realizing that you are still very much dry, but there’s something blocking you from lifting your arms. Kaeya chuckles behind you as you lightly hit his arm, hugging you tight.
“I got you,” he says with a smile.
Razor
he’s an awkward hugger, mostly because he doesn’t know how these things work as well as that he doesn’t want to hurt you
he doesn’t know where to put his hands and they usually end up against his sides before he realizes that he makes you think he doesn’t like them
when he gets more comfortable, his hugs are gentle and soft
he grew up with the wolves and these types of things just didn’t happen, but you make his heart soar
He’s taking a casual walk in Wolvendom to reflect on what Lupus Boreas had told him only days ago. He wasn’t a wolf, he was human, but he couldn’t accept it so quickly. His mind wanders and he doesn’t hear the steps, or rather running, behind him. It’s only until you jump on his back that he realizes.
You knew that he was thinking about what happened and you wanted to return as fast as you could to check on him. You slide off his back and he gives you a forced grin. Razor avoids your gaze but you place your hands on his shoulders to square them towards you.
He appreciates your presence and he wants nothing more than comfort, hands twitching at his sides. You’re aware of his little signals and smile when you hug him tightly. He closes his eyes and breaths in your calming scent while hugging you back with care.
“Thank you.”
Venti
there’s a sense of happiness once he hugs you because it just makes you feel lighter and free
there seems to always be a slight breeze about him and you can feel it brush your face when you rest your head on his shoulder
he comes and goes but never forgets to hug you before and after he returns to see you
his hold can range from very loose to holding on just a bit tighter
Venti left a month ago and you knew that’s just how his way of life was. He was never one to stay place for too long, much like the wind you would say. You yourself were someone who likes to travel around, but everything always brought you back to Mondstadt.
You stand overlooking the city at “your usual place,” as he liked to call it, for some peace of mind. You sit on the edge of the statue’s outstretched hands and lean back on your hands to take in the view. A soft breeze passes by you and your ears pick up a quiet sound behind you. You smile and stand up, immediately wrapping your arms around him.
His own naturally fall in place behind your back and a light laugh escapes his lips. It was nice to see you again, as always.
“Missed me?”
Xiao
he used to be so stiff when he first started hugging you as he never had physical contact with anyone
being you, he warms up and learns how to properly hug someone
will have a hand behind your head because he wants to make sure that every part you of is against him
he’s very protective of you in general and it gives him a peace of mind knowing he can keep an eye on you in this way
You’re sleeping, sitting in his lap with your head resting against his chest as he sits on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You came to him only a few moments ago and it was clear that you took the time to clear out nearby hilichurl camps due to the small scratches and bruises you had on you.
Xiao narrows his eyes at more of the culprits across the water on the little islands, making a note to do something with them later. You mumble in your sleep and he looks down to see your brows furrowed. He cups your face gently and smooths his thumb over your cheek which causes your face to return to it’s peaceful state and you move closer to him.
It was surprising that he fell for someone. You made your way into his life so unexpectedly and now he just wanted to take care of you. And he wouldn’t change a thing.
“Rest well.”
Xingqiu
very proper hugs because they are reciprocated in with the same energy, or even more, than the ones you may give him
he has no problem in giving you hugs away from prying eyes
he would usually whisk you away onto adventures with him with a promise of them
will get flustered when you hug him while saying just how much you appreciate him
You’re amused at the way he presents himself to others and talks to them as expected of him. Xingqiu was known to be mild- and well-mannered as his mischievous side was hidden from those not so close to him.
You both manage to escape the party, standing beside each other as you look up into the night sky. He feels less restricted with you and he takes this opportunity to lace his fingers through yours. You give him a fond smile and return to staring at the stars.
An idea pops into your head and you let go of his hand, him giving you a questioning look before he is brought into a hug. Xingqiu blushes at the suddenness of your actions but returns it nonetheless. His eyes keep diverting to the house so you have to reassure him that no one can see the both of you.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Zhongli
he enjoys hugging, contrary to what most might think
he likes the intimate feeling and being close to someone he loves in such a sweet way that can be done anywhere
he will never deny you of the affection and if you initiate it he will go through with it no matter what
he’s always looking at you paired with a soft smile on his face whenever he has you in his arms
Zhongli’s voice pierces the quiet as you both take a stroll outside of Liyue. He’s telling you of its history and old traditions that have disappeared throughout the years, but you’re becoming tired due to the sound of his voice.
When you’re out of sight from the guards at the front gates you give a slight tug to the end of his coat sleeve. He stops in the middle of his story and sees that your eyes are growing weary. You keep your hold on his sleeve until you pull yourself to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes and content with the sound of the night as you’re against him.
He holds you close, making sure that you’re not actually asleep as it would make for a very interesting walk back. You tell him that you’re just resting your eyes for a few moments and that he can keep talking. That you love the sound of his voice. Zhongli places a kiss to your forehead as he continues, adoration for you clear in his eyes.
“Now, where was I...”
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact headcannons#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact angst#childe#childe x reader#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc ragnvindr#diluc#kaeya alberich#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya x reader#kaeya#razor x reader#razor#venti#venti x reader#xiao#xiao x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#xingqiu#xingqiu x reader
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family
it is a semi-tradition on this blog that the birthdays of the bau besties that come across my feed i must celebrate with a little fic. <3 happy birthday, derek morgan. we love you! derek morgan x gender neutral reader.
word count: 1189
rating: e for everyone. all fluff and adoration for the birthday boy!
-
when you get the text, your phone not even buzzing to keep it hidden, that's when you know it's time.
"i do have... one birthday surprise for you," you say to derek, hand tangling in his loose enough that your thumb can stroke his skin.
it had been a long and lazy day, or at least as lazy as you both could make it. you weren't ones to sit around all day, and mornings on weekends were dedicated to derek's restoration projects, but sundays were forbidden to the outside world unless absolutely necessary. that meant that no work calls were taken (only work texts if either of you were needed), and a journey to the dog park with clooney was met with just enough sun to make you sweat. no rushing around allowed.
but at the mention of surprise, derek lets out a little groan. "baby..."
you can't help your chuckle. "derek," you return, in the same tone, reaching to trace your free hand's fingers over his jaw. his eyes are closed from lightly dozing, and the lights from the kitchen make his lashes shine.
"we said no surprises," derek says, his voice a little sing-songy.
you groan a little, leaning against him. "i know, but it's not a big... material gift." your words are chosen carefully.
"but we said - "
"i know what we said," you whisper. you decide convincing has to go another route. you press a kiss to his cheek, another one against his jaw, making him smirk. you continue them lightly down his neck, until he has to squirm and sit up fully.
one eye opens.
"only one?" he asks. you're pressed against his side, so he doesn't have to turn his head to get a full and lingering look that makes your stomach erupt into butterflies.
"one, but it is big," you admit. a kiss against his hand seals the promise. "and i'd apologize, but i do think you'll enjoy it. so. trust?"
he does. you can tell because of the smile that lights up his face, close-lipped but warm as his hand squeezes more firmly around yours.
"okay. fine. what's the surprise?"
"you have to close your eyes."
"what?"
your hand pulls from his so you can cross your arms over his chest. "yes, close them, derek morgan, or i'll make you close them."
that makes him roll his eyes and he can't help his little laugh, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows with a smirk. one hand moves to settle behind his head, rubbing at his scalp. his other hand goes up in surrender. "okay. okay. you're lucky i love you."
but you're already stood, moving to the door. "the luckiest," you call out. "no peeking!"
the door opens as quietly as you can manage, but you see derek tense a little when he hears the hinges. you do your best to cover up the sound of multiple pairs of feet coming over to gather up by the couch.
"baby..." it's a little warning, but you manage to go back to him to squeeze his hand.
"derek," you warn. "no peeking."
he doesn't. but the longer it takes to settle the offered cake on the coffee table and close the door, the more he fidgets.
he says your name with a hint of frustration. "i can hear you moving around. who's coming in?"
"just five more seconds!" you beg, and then everyone is in place, lighter in your hand. "okay! open your eyes!"
when he does, it's only one, peeking out with more than a hint of trepidation. and then his whole face goes slack, mouth falling open and eyes wide as fran, desiree, and sarah morgan grinning back at him.
"no," he breathes. but his grin starts to stretch across his features, and his eyes narrow as he tries to determine the mystery of how his mother and sisters ended up in front of him in virginia.
"happy birthday to ya," they start singing, and you get to work on the candles with unstoppable laughter at the look on his face. they start flickering and shining as you work your way through all of them, and his family sings at him as he looks up in shock. "happy birthday to ya! happy birthday!"
"so this is why you haven't called me all day," derek shouts, accusing and pointing a finger at each of his sisters and mother in turn. "flying out from chicago, are you kidding me?"
"anything for our baby brother," desiree teases and flopping next to him on the couch, which earns her an indignant shout.
"i am older than you!"
sarah laughs and goes to flop on his other side. "don't blame us for this. this was mom's idea."
fran just offers a shrug, moving to stand next to you and hook her arm through yours. “well. mine and this one. someone was very kind of enough to pay for flights and offer us a very nice hotel.”
derek’s eyes move from scanning his family’s faces to you. there’s a moment where you feel self-conscious, lifting your fingers to rub at your own shoulder and neck.
"it was mainly your mom," you offer, and derek looks at you with something like... overwhelming adoration, something you know by now is love.
"all for my birthday," he whispers, and he knows it's true. it's a mere moment before he's lifting from the couch, sarah and desiree falling into each other with little laughs as he goes to take the hand with the cake knife in it. your fingers place the sharp object carefully down before he fully takes your hand again, tight and firm.
you can't really say anything. you're staring up into derek's eyes with a little smile, feeling the way he scans you again, just like he did before. like he needs to take in every part of you, wants to remember what this moment looks like on your face just as much as you want to memorize the soft shine in brown eyes that could start a fire with their warmth.
"of course for your birthday," you offer him, and when he kisses you it's perfect and deep and met with that same joyful swoop of your stomach. it goes on for a bit too long, if derek’s sisters’ identical groans sounding off tell you anything.
"can you two stop?" desiree shouts. "i want to eat my cake." you both pull apart with matching grins, and he refuses to lose his grip on you just as his mother's tightens on you as well.
fran's voice is firm. "desiree. go get some plates and treat your brother nice on his birthday."
"yeah, hear that? treat the baby boy nice on his birthday," derek shoots back, making sarah laugh again.
"right. like we'd ever do that."
but no matter the words that are laughed and shared, the smearing of frosting on cheeks and shirts and laughter for the day, he never lets go of you. the one who made this birthday, and every one after, ones with his family, and ones to remember for the rest of his life.
-
taglist: @duchesschameleon // @winterscaptain // @writefasttalkevenfaster // @hurricanejjareau // @hotchseyebrows // @ssaic-jareau // @1234-angelika // @wanniiieeee // @arianmock13-blog // @averyhotchner // @barbasbodaciousbeard // @xxlovingfandomsxx // @mad-girl-without-a-box // @itsgrishamagic // @joanofarkansass // @aayaissaa // @prettypyschoinpink // @andreasworlsboring101
#my fic#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan#gender neutral reader#criminal minds#fran morgan#desiree morgan#sarah morgan#criminal minds fanfiction#fluff#happy birthday loml!!!
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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 21
Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic
“Hi,” she greets him as he walks in the door, “I have something for you.”
She’s perched in the armchair, a smile that’s coy and playful curling the corners of her mouth. He gives her a curious smirk as he slips off his shoes and overcoat.
“Okay, like a gift?” he asks, crossing the room to plant a kiss on her lips, stealing another to enjoy the warm feeling of her mouth against his, which is chilled from the wintery air outside.
She shakes her head as he goes into the bedroom, changing into sweats and a T-shirt.
“You’re going to have to find it,” she calls from the other room, and he smiles to himself.
This is his favorite version of her; playful and flirtatious, quick to smile and laugh. He loves all aspects of her personality, but the rarity of this one makes it feel special. She almost never acts this way in front of anyone else, even her family; it feels like it’s just for him. He moves to stand at the threshold of the living room, leaning against the wall.
“Are you going to give me a hint?” he asks, and she considers the question with a thinking man pose.
“Well, I will tell you that right now you are very, very, cold,” she finally says.
His eyebrows lift in understanding and he walks back into the bedroom.
“Colder!” she calls, and he moves to the kitchen.
“Still cold.”
He walks to her desk.
“Mmm, slightly warmer.”
Next he steps close to the fireplace.
“A little warmer.”
He turns to look at her and narrows his eyes. He takes a step towards her.
“Oh, warmer.”
He stands directly in front of her chair.
“Getting hot,” she says with a playful lilt to her voice.
He drops to his knees between her legs.
“Very, very hot.”
He slips his fingers into the waistband of her pants.
“On fire,” She says with a smile.
He moves to pull her pants down and the tips of his fingers meet with something foreign near the top of her thigh. He quirks his head quizzically, fitting his whole hand into her pant leg and pulling out two long strips of cardstock. Airline tickets.
“How do you feel about a California Christmas?” she asks hopefully, and he looks at the tickets to see that the destination is San Diego, December 22nd.
He knew that she and her mother had been talking about flying out to see Bill for the holiday, but he’d assumed that he’d be left at home.
“What about Priscilla?” he asks, both touched that she wants to include him in her family’s celebration and nervous about meeting her older brother, who he understands will hate him by default.
“We can ask the Gunmen to look after her,” she offers. “Unless you don’t want to come with me?”
He can tell by her tone that it’s not meant to be a way for him to opt out, but a test of his willingness to go. She clearly wants him to.
“Of course I want to go with you,” he replies, moving close and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I will admit to being a little worried about meeting your brother, and in his home, on his turf.”
She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry too much about Bill. Missy and Charlie are going, and Mom of course, and they love you. I know Tara will too. So even if he does pull the big brother card and give you a hard time, we have strength in numbers.”
“Is Byers going?” he asks hopefully, and she shakes her head. “Missy only just barely told Mom about him. It’s too soon for them.”
“But not for us?” he asks with the smile he reserves for the times when she alludes to the seriousness of their commitment.
She shakes her head slowly. “Not for us,” she says.
———
“Oh my god, I’m going to lose my mind, Mulder.”
She’s pacing around the apartment, putting things into different piles and open suitcases, her level of stress palpable in the air.
“Honey, stop for a second,” he says, grabbing her by the shoulders and dipping his head to meet her eye. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs, waiting as she does so. “We don’t need to leave for the airport for another twelve hours,” he says, keeping his own tone calm and level to counter hers, “we have plenty of time to pack.”
“It’s not just the packing, Mulder, this entire week was a nightmare. Everything I was hoping to accomplish before this trip was waylaid in one way or another; I missed my doctor’s appointment because of an emergency autopsy and forgot to reschedule it before they closed on Friday, Trudy was out sick half the week so I had to absorb her workload, the dry cleaners lost the dress I was going to bring for Christmas Eve mass, Priscilla is out of food AND litter, and I can’t find my earplugs for the plane,” she rattles off.
He pulls her into a hug, feeling her relax a bit with the contact.
“I will go pick up cat food, litter and earplugs,” he says, pulling away to look at her again, “and I’ll remind you to call the doctor tomorrow and reschedule. Wear that blue dress with the little flowers on it to mass, it looks beautiful on you. And try to breathe,” he finishes, giving her a sympathetic smile.
She forces a small smile onto her mouth and takes another deep breath. “Thank you,” she says quietly.
He pours her a big glass of wine before bundling himself up against the cold and venturing out into the December night.
———
She glances at Mulder intermittently, watching for signs of overwhelm. She knows that coming from a small, dysfunctional family means that he’s not accustomed to the type of gathering they are currently entrenched in; the entire Scully clan plus Tara’s parents and brother, and several members of their church. He seems to be faring okay, sipping a beer while talking sports with Charlie and a few others.
As nervous as he’d been about meeting Bill, he was well prepared. Scully directed him to speak highly of the Chargers while eviscerating the Patriots, and to go easy on the PDA. While they aren’t exactly best friends, Bill doesn’t seem to actively dislike him, and they are calling that a win.
She’d fully expected them to be set up in separate rooms given Bill’s traditional family values, but the number of people who needed to be housed made that impractical. They ended up relegated to the guest room and a single twin bed, though the enormous stack of pillows and blankets arranged on it suggest that one of them is expected to make a bed on the floor. They don’t do that, of course, instead sleeping nested together like spoons, Mulder continuously making half-hearted attempts at getting frisky while she laughs and slaps his hand away.
They are dressed for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, Scully in her flowered blue dress and Mulder in one of his typical weekday suits. They sit in the pew between Mom and Charlie, hands clasped chastely on the bench between them, suppressing giggles as he leans over to warn her that he is at risk of bursting into flame. He traces patterns on her palm with his index finger and she realizes at some point that they are letters. She concentrates, trying to understand his message, expecting it to be ‘I love you’ or something similarly sweet. When she puts together that he is spelling out ‘sex tonight?’ she looks over at him with wide eyes and then purses her lips together tightly to keep from laughing, doing her best to glare at him.
They file sleepily through the door at nearly 2am, quietly going off into their respective bedrooms and pull-out couches, hoping to get some rest before Christmas festivities in the morning. Scully quickly brushes her teeth and washes her face before darting to the bedroom, wriggling under the covers and pressing her back against Mulder, her cold toes brushing against his shins.
“Hm, you’re cold,” he says softly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
“Thanks for going to mass,” she whispers back, “it meant a lot to my mom to have all of us there.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” he answers, his breath hot on her neck, “it’s nice to feel like a part of a real family.”
She threads her fingers through his where they rest on her belly, squeezing his hand. She tries to go to sleep, but his chest rising and falling against her back and the heat of his groin tucked against her backside are distracting. She wiggles a little bit against him.
“Hmmm,” he responds, thrusting his hips against her gently.
She swore that she was not going to have sex at her brother’s house. She knows that they can go without for the week they are here. But as she feels him grow hard against her ass, the throbbing between her legs suggests otherwise. No doubt it’s exacerbated by the forbidden nature of the situation; the door doesn’t have a lock and the house is quiet and still, though packed with enough ears that the risk of being heard is high. When his lips press against the back of her neck, she knows she’s done for.
She reaches behind herself to slip her hand into his pajama pants, stroking him firmly as he breathes hard into her ear, suppressing the groan that she knows would normally result from her touch. He pushes his pants down to his knees with one hand, then hurriedly brings hers down as well. She emits a small gasp when he slips inside her, simultaneously pushing his hand under her pajama top to squeeze her breast.
“Jesus fuck, you’re wet,” he whispers harshly in her ear, and she wants to make a joke about not taking the lord’s name in vain on his birthday but when he starts pumping in and out deliciously slowly, the thought slips from her mind.
If he moves too quickly the bed squeaks, so he keeps a languid pace as he pinches her nipples and kisses her neck, then slides his hand down to play with her clit in the tight space between her legs, which are still pinned together by the pajama pants around her knees. It feels incredible, and yet the necessary slowness and need to stay quiet make her wonder if she will be able to come. As if intuiting this, Mulder withdraws momentarily, sitting up and freeing her top leg from her pants, then lies back down and hitches her ankle behind his knee; her favorite position. He pulls the blanket back over them for warmth and modesty, though if anyone were to walk in now they’d have no chance of plausible deniability. With more room to move, he resumes his slow strokes and pairs them with hard and fast circles around her clit, murmuring little affirmations into her ear so softly she can barely hear them, much less anyone else. The vibration of his voice, the slip of his cock, the rough brush of his fingers, all come together in crescendo as she stiffens in his arms, turning to muffle her cries against his mouth as she comes. Now able to focus on his own release, he continues to pump slowly, pressing his face into her neck and letting out a low growl as she feels him throbbing inside her.
He slips quietly out of the bed, retrieving one of his dirty T shirts and swiping it between her legs before he pulls her pajama pants back into place. They get comfortable again, the sexual tension that had prevented them from relaxing before now dissipated.
He kisses her cheek softly, murmuring “Merry Christmas, Scully,” into her ear just before she drifts off to sleep.
In the morning, they sit around the lit tree, drinking coffee and eating pastries as they shake off sleep.
“Is your house haunted, Bill?” Charlie asks, and Bill gives him a doubtful look. “I swear I heard some weird noises, like creaking and whispering, I felt like I was in a horror movie,” Charlie defends.
Scully hides her face behind her coffee cup, glancing over to see Missy giving her a pointed look.
“I’m sure it was just the Christmas spirit,” Maggie says jovially. “Who wants to open presents?!”
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And one to grow on
When Sammy turns six he giggles and squirms and tries to get away when Dean gives him six loud smacks to his bottom, then winds up for “one to grow on.”
When he’s thirteen, and pretending he’s too old for the tradition to cover the zing of excitement that grows in his belly with every smack.
When he’s sixteen, and by the eighth hit he’s hard against Dean’s thigh, and Dean hesitates until Sammy wiggles in his lap, looks up at him with eyes gone dark with want and Dean finishes the final slap with a caress and a first kiss that sets off fireworks.
When he’s twenty-four and it’s almost midnight and Dean hasn’t tried to catch him for a birthday spanking yet, and Sam is starting to feel a little anxious. It’s tradition, and maybe a bit silly, but beyond wanting it Sam can’t help feeling that he’ll be unlucky without it. Wondering if Dean even remembers the spankings he used to give, or if those are lost along with the intimacy they’d shared before Stanford.
When Dean comes out of the shower, rubbing his hair with a towel and pajama pants hanging off his hips, Sam jumps up.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean says, eyebrow raised. “Something wrong?”
“No- yes...” Sam shakes his head. “I just... it’s my birthday, Dean.”
“Happy birthday.” Dean drops the towel, turns his back to fuss with his duffel.
“It’s my birthday,” Sam says again.
“Yeah? Well what do you want me to do about it?”
“You used to...” Sam can’t finish his thought.
“Used to do a lot of stuff, Sam.” Dean turns around, arms crossed, and Sam has to force himself not to hide, although he can feel his cheeks burning.
“I just miss it,” he mutters, can’t make himself look directly at Dean.
“Miss what?” When Sam doesn’t respond, Dean continues. “C’mon, Sammy, you gotta tell me what you want.”
“It’s tradition,” Sam whines, hopes that’ll be enough.
It isn’t. “Use your big boy words.”
“Deeeeean.”
Dean’s there, suddenly, right in front of him, hands on his arms, staring into Sam’s eyes. “Are you sure, Sammy?”
Sam nods, and that’s all it takes. He doesn’t know how Dean manages it, but he’s laid out across his brother’s lap with his pants around his ankles and Dean’s hand stroking and kneading his ass. Dean’s voice is hoarse when he says, “So needy, Sammy,” and that’s when Sam realizes he’s begging, saying please please please and pushing back into Dean’s hand. He wants to hide but Dean’s hand slaps down with a loud crack, stinging and stealing his voice.
Three hits in and Sam’s brain is starting to go fuzzy. He feels limp and boneless in Dean’s grip, the strong hand on his back the only thing holding him in place as Dean gives him another firm smack. “So perfect for me,” Dean croons, rubbing over the reddened flesh. “God, Sammy, missed this so much.”
Sam loses track of the hits, loses himself in the alternating bursts of pain and soothing pets, loses his inhibitions and humps against Dean’s thigh and Dean makes a strangled sound, sounds wrecked when he says, “That’s it, baby, gonna make you feel so good.” A flurry of spanks has him crying out as he spills against Dean’s leg, rocking into the stimulation and panting as he finally goes still. Dean holds him through it, grounds him, brings him back to himself as he looks up with a sleepy smile.
“Missed this,” Sam says, and Dean pulls him up into a rough kiss.
“Didn’t think you wanted it anymore.”
“Always wanted it.” Sam snuggles into the crook of Dean’s neck, sighs happily as he starts to fall asleep.
Wakes suddenly when a final smack lands on his ass. Dean’s grinning, smug and satisfied.
“And one to grow on.”
-
@stridingathinline I had a sudden inspiration for a happy Sammy birthday fic...
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The Holidays has always been a favorite for Danica
Danica fic.
CW: cheating technically
@by-the-primes @apocalypticwafflekitten @eyecandyeoz @spookiifi @literatureandqueen
Alongside her siblings birthdays the Fortress was always a hub of activity.
Treats, decorations, lights, and every bauble placed on the tree. Oh she adored it, she would have such holidays for the rest of her years.
Well…
She stares at the tree she had been allowed to keep. Not one of the ornaments her parents had crafted had stayed on. It was too much. It was too childish.
—-
“So will you be joining us Miss Oppress?” She’s pulled from her day dream by Selios.
“I think I missed most of that. Come again, Sir?” She says with a embarrassed look.
The Chiss gives her a small smile, “ You seem a bit lost these past few days, is everything alright?”
No.
“Just the holiday daze.”
He knows she is avoiding the question, eyes wandering to the side and hands pressed together. He won’t pry.
“That happens at times, but on that topic are you coming to the department party? I know you enjoy the holidays.”
Coming in with winter attire and always a clever brooch. Wreaths, holly, and snowflakes…mistletoe.
Selios harbored his crush quietly.
Danica’s eyes brighten, oh just like stars.
“A party? A holiday one?”
“Yes,” he knows there might be a slight dusting of purple on his face.
“Of course!”
——-
For a night Danica was able to avoid the loneliness and sorrow that was always at bay. She laughs and smiles at the festivities, happily opening up holiday crackers and munching away on treats.
The decor was no Oppress flair but still! “Thanks for letting me tag along with you, Sir.” She said to Selios
He nods, “Anytime Miss Oppress.”
She pouts, “ You know you can call me Danica.”
He laughs slightly, “ Well I’ve told you you can call me Selios, but you don’t.”
“But Sir is more fitting! Oh is there cocoa too?”
Selios nods, he had made sure of it.
——-
As the night goes on Dani and Selios continue to laugh and enjoy the other’s company.
It was the most fun she has had for a while, it was most joy she had felt for some time.
“You know you can exchange that gift if you don’t want it.” He mentions as Danica holds a plush penguin in her arms.
“Oh Stars no, I must admit I am quite fond of it, please don’t laugh.”
Selios frowns, “ Why would I laugh? You like them.”
“Force of habit.” She whispers.
—-
As the night winds down, Danica and Selios wander about the gardens. She knows many of the plants.
Truly Danica is a wonder.
“Ah.” She points up, “mistletoe”
Selios stops.
“It’s tradition,” she whispers shyly. What is she doing?!
She is….. oh come off it Dani! Everything is in shambles…for a moment just for a moment…just…
“Only if it’s alright, only then Danica.”
Ah so he says her name in such a moment.
She nods, and closes her eyes. Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe the loneliness. Maybe there was something for this man who was kind to her…..maybe it was for a brief moment her mind could pretend…
Selios leans down, stars above Danica was lovely. The falling snow dusting her black curls and kissing her lashes….
He gently kisses her. Such a soft kiss upon her lips. Warm as starlight and the sweetness of the champagne and hot cocoa.
Danica feels her face burn and a soft gasp, oh it had been so long since she was kissed so sweetly! So tenderly…
Selios knew he could never do that again…if he dared
“Can you kiss me again?” She asks softly, “ Please just another kiss…”
That was it. The warmth of her kiss…the sweetness…once more. Selios knows…
He knows already….
He is falling for Danica….
——
Danica whispers so quietly, he can’t make it out and only focuses on the smile she gives him.
—-
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Happy Birthday, kelskels95!
Happy Birthday, @kelskels95! We hope you’ve got a wonderful day planned, with a delicious cake to look forward to at the end! To start your party off right, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!
This fic is part two of something I wrote for Everlarkbirthdaygifts a few months ago- you can find a link to that story here; this part is based on the 1952 John Wayne/Maureen O’Hara movie The Quiet Man, which is set in Ireland during the 1920s.
John Wayne plays a disgraced former boxer who moves to his family’s homeland for peace after accidentally killing a man in the ring. Maureen O’Hara is his tempestuous love interest. It’s a fun, beautiful, very romantic, and funny (she is a real hothead in the film, and they have great on-screen chemistry) movie that I highly recommend.
I hope you enjoy this little homage to The Quiet Man.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ah-ah-ah,” Haymitch stops me in my tracks when he glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. The village drunk is certainly the laughing stock of this little sheep-farming bit of countryside where I’ve been living for the last six months, so I wait, fully expecting him to crack a joke and cut the tension suddenly formed between us.
I wait, and Haymitch waits. He doesn’t smile- instead, he stares me down as if I were a thief flinching his best white liquor from his cabinet in the middle of the night and not a man in the middle of courting a young lady, trying to lift her down from the buggy.
I guess even Haymitch takes some responsibilities seriously. I just wished for my own sake it wasn’t this particular responsibility. The confounding traditions these people have are outrageous enough on their own without his overbearing attitude. Back in the States, a guy could just pull up to a girl’s house, honk the horn, and wait for her to run out and meet him.
A fella wouldn’t be forced to sit on opposite facing seats in this “courting buggy,” driven around the countryside by the town drunk, unable to carry on any real conversation with his girl.
Not that I would ever honk for a girl, at least not for Katniss Everdeen, anyway. She is small and beautiful and fiery and has the loveliest grey eyes I’ve ever seen. I might have enough sense not to pull up to her door and honk my horn (I’d have to have a car in this country to do such a thing, anyway), but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to spend a little time alone with her, now that I’m officially seeing her.
Damn it all; there is an honest to God twinkle in Haymitch’s eyes when he addresses me again, but only after I’ve dropped my hands away from Katniss’s waist and stepped away from her. “Mr. Mellark-”
“My name is Peeta if you please. My father was Mr. Mellark,” I remind Haymitch, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at him. I’m much bigger and stronger than him (I’m bigger and stronger than most men actually, or I wouldn’t have had the boxing career I left behind in the States), but that doesn’t deter him the least.
“Ms. Everdeen is a fine, healthy girl,” he continues, leaning back in his seat and waving his hands at us, his expression knowing, “and she is quite able to climb out of the buggy by herself. So there’ll be no need for any patty-fingers there, Mr. Mellark.”
I frown up at Haymitch and his sly words. There were no, as he implied, patty-fingers involved. I was simply grasping Katniss’s waist to help her get down from her side of the buggy. I know she is an excellent climber; I did just dislodge her hair and hat from a tall tree limb last week in the middle of a disastrous rescue of her sister’s cat.
All three of us are aware that we are doing today is simply an exercise in etiquette.
Katniss and I have spent this evening, our first official “courting” outing, chauffeured down the local countryside’s winding roads. It’s so beautiful in spring’s palates of greens-
(I love the beauty of this land. I don’t think I will ever tire of it- I’ve never seen such shades of green all my life. The land wasn’t like this back home in Chicago, but of course, when you grow up in an apartment above the family bakery, how is a fella to know what nature looks like? Sunday trips for a stroll around the park didn’t quite cut the mustard, either.
Here, the surroundings are a feast for the eyes. Everything is colored in varying shades of green, rolling on for miles and miles: the trees, the pastures, the pretty dress that Katniss is wearing today. It goes so smartly with her straw hat, which, I can’t help but notice, is the same one I had to help her dislodge from a tree branch just last Sunday. This place is serene and peaceful, exactly why I chose to come back to my ancestral home after leaving the boxing ring behind.)
- past neighbor’s farms, and stone fences as far as the eye could see. In his given role as one of the senior men (and the local drunk) in the village, Haymitch has driven Katniss and myself around. We are not to be alone together now that I am courting her- even though she has visited many times at my farm, alone, without any threat of ruination. The “courting” title is the only difference in any of it; I’ve wanted to kiss Katniss’s pert little mouth since the first time I laid eyes on her.
“Patty fingers?” I ask indignantly, although I do drop my hands from Katniss’s waist. A scowl forms on her lovely face, wrinkling her nose adorably.
“Quit your fussin’, boy. Now what I’m doing here, well, this is a good stretch of the road leading into town. I’ll let you do about a mile or so on your own; give you a chance to see how you feel walking together. I’ll be right behind you, so no funny business,” he directs. I move to put my hand on the small of Katniss’s back but am quickly tut-tutted by Haymitch. “Patty fingers!”
Katniss’s and my eyes meet, and she rolls her eyes at Haymitch’s evident enthusiasm for his task.
Ha- see if I’m eager to buy him another pint at the pub!
Instead of speaking, we walk close beside each other, not touching- the only sound the click of her low heels on the packed-dirt road. Once there is some distance between us and the buggy, I hear Haymitch make a clicking sound at the horses and snap the reins, and soon he is moving down the road, following us again.
At least this time, Haymitch is keeping a little distance- I know he is giving us some room to speak with each other, but I cannot think of a single thing to say to Katniss with an audience. We continue in silence, neither of us anxious to speak, which is unusual because I am quite the talker. Katniss, while not overly verbose, is rarely short of things to remark upon when she is alone with me.
Finally, I open my mouth. “You look lovely today, Katniss,” I say, admiring her because it is the truth, and you can never go wrong telling your girl she is lovely to you.
Her eyes skate over my frame quickly before she faces forward again. “Is that your best suit you’re wearing today, Peeta Mellark?” she asks, a grin forming at the corner of her mouth.
I smile at my full name crossing her lips; it reminds me of a prim schoolmistress- I like it very much. “Yes, it is my best suit, Katniss Everdeen,” I answer in kind. “Do I pass muster?”
Katniss’s eyes slide to the side; I catch her watching me. “It does look quite fine on you,” she says softly, glancing forward again.
I hear the buggy come to a halt behind us as Haymitch stops to speak to the vicar, so we stop in the road as well. Katniss faces me, and when our eyes lock, I have an overwhelming desire to be alone with her, talk with her, make her laugh, and maybe earn a chaste kiss. I want to know everything there is to know about Katniss Everdeen, and I cannot do any of those things with our chaperone in tow.
Although I would never say time spent with her is a waste, I am mourning the freedom of those evenings she would visit me at my farm, when we were alone to talk, even if it was only in the manner that friends do.
I sigh.
Katniss shrugs her shoulders. “This is quite ridiculous, isn’t it?” she bites back a smile. I think she’s growing as tired of the proprieties as I am.
“It is.” I agree. Neither Katniss nor I are youths needing looking after. I just passed my 26th birthday, and she is only a year younger than I am. Considering what I’ve been through in those short years, it’s been much longer than one would think since I’ve felt like a boy.
I catch sight of something then- a two-seater bicycle, leaning against the side of the pub, and it gives me an idea. “Can you ride?” I ask, nodding discreetly at the tandem. Katniss glances over her shoulder then, and so do I.
Haymitch remains in conversation with the vicar.
In unison, Katniss and I take off in a dead sprint for the tandem. Reaching it, I hop on the back of the two-seater bicycle, and she climbs onto the seat in front of me. Moments later, the two of us are riding the bike through the village on our escape route out of town, all to the sounds of Haymitch bellering indiscernibly behind us.
#everlark#everlark fanfiction#everlarkbirthdaydrabbles#everlarkbirthdaygifts#fan fic#by endlessnightlock
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Happy Birthday to You
In honor of Batman Day I’ve decided so post my first fic (it was meant for Jason Todd's birthday but hey its only a month late). Also, a special thank you to @reese-haleth for helping me edit!
Fandom: Batman
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth
Length: 1,900 words
Summary: A song fic to Happy Birthday about four of the most important birthdays in Jason Todd's life.
Trigger Warnings: Homelessness, Major Character death (canonical). If you would like me to add any please let me know.
12th
Jason runs faster than he had in his entire life, an angry cop close on his tail. Just as he’s about to be caught he notices a fire escape up ahead. Acting quickly, he pulls himself up, still clutching his prize, and climbs out of view. From his hidden perch, he watches as the officer looks around the alley below, then angrily goes on to continue his search elsewhere.
“Just like taking candy from a baby,” Jason mutters to himself, still half out of breath.
After another moment he leaves his spot and returns to the streets, making sure to avoid the local cruisers out looking for trouble. Eventually he reaches the part of town even the cops won’t go and he’s home free. Well he’s free, he doesn’t exactly have a home to go to, but that’s a problem for later.
On the cracked steps of an old abandoned building he finally stops to enjoy his ill-gotten gains. A box filled with a half dozen doughnuts, minus the one the officer was eating when Jason stole the rest. Glazed, not his favorite; He always liked chocolate best, but he wasn’t in a position to complain. He smiles to himself as he holds up the first treat.
“Welp, it’s no birthday cake but it will have to do,” he says to himself. “Happy birthday to me, 11 may have sucked but maybe 12 will be better,” the young boy finally smiles. “I guess it’s time to make my wish.”
Just as he is about to, an odd shadow passes by. He quickly looks up, just in time to catch a fading glance of the Batman himself, running across the rooftops, his path lit only by the moon. Jason waits another moment, but no one follows behind the vigilante. Robin had been gone for a few months now, though no one knows what happened for sure. Some say he died, some say he quit, some say he ran off to California.
“Psh, California, what an idiot. If I were Robin I’d never leave,” Jason mumbles as he finally tears his eyes from the sky and looks back down at the box in his lap.
“Well, these doughnuts aren’t gonna eat themselves.”
He blows out his imaginary candles and wolfs down his dinner.
Happy Birthday to you
15th
An alarm blares as the light shines through his window. Normally, Jason would ignore it and go back to sleep, since Alfred would wake him up later, but today was different. He bolts awake after just the first beep and begins getting ready. Still struggling with his pants, he throws open the door and runs downstairs, sliding a little on the hardwood floors at the bottom of the grand staircase, he catches himself just in time. Before becoming Robin, he definitely would have fallen on his butt. It looks like all his training really is paying off.
Stopping himself before the doorway of the main dining room, he makes himself presentable and walks in as calmly as possible.
“Morning B,” Jason says nonchalantly as he enters the room and takes a seat.
Bruce is sitting peacefully at the head of the table with his usual cup of coffee and today's paper. He glances up at his ward with a knowing smile on his face.
“Good morning, Jaylad. Sleep alright?”
Just as Jason was about to respond his nose caught the scent of breakfast. He snapped his head to the kitchen door to see Alfred bringing in the world’s largest tray of pancakes. It’s a yearly tradition; Jason always gets his favorite foods on his birthday.
Today is always his favorite out of the whole year, everything about it is awesome. Bruce always takes off work to celebrate with him, and later he would open presents. They would play video games and basketball and whatever else Jason could think of. Maybe Dick would even swing by for a bit! It's the best.
Although every moment is great, Jason’s favorite part is the end. They will all gather in the dining room, but Jason will get to sit at the head of the table this time. Bruce will turn out the lights and Alfred will bring in a homemade birthday cake. They’ll sing to him and he’ll blow out real candles, like in the movies. He could picture it now.
The only problem is, he can’t figure out just what to wish for. He has everything he could ever want. He finally has a place; he finally has a home. It takes him the whole day to figure out his wish, but when he finally found it, he knew.
He wished to stay right here, for the rest of his life.
Happy Birthday to you
18th
The night air was freezing on his skin, the absence of the sun leaving his world cold. Today used to be a day of celebration, now it only brought pain. In his heart he knows he did all he could, that he had given his son everything and more. But then why did he blame himself?
Bruce follows the overgrown path to the small graveyard. He did not come here often, though that only makes the guilt stronger. He should try to fix that, but he never will.
Today he swallows the pain and guilt and kneels to the ground, placing a lone rose before a small grave. Too small, just like the boy buried underneath it. He had never had the chance to grow much, as years of malnutrition kept him far shorter than his peers, but Bruce had never minded. It meant he got to carry him a little longer, before he grew too big. He wished he could carry him again, just one last time.
The tears came before he could stop them. The water flooding his cheeks as the memories flooded his mind. A small boy laughing, opening presents just a few years ago. He would have been 18 today, officially a man.
Maybe it's better this way.
The thought crawls through his brain, dredged up from the darkest corner of his mind.
He will get to stay Bruce's little boy forever, he will never leave him. He will stay the perfect child, untainted by the rebellion of youth and the pain of adulthood, but deep-down Bruce knew, he would watch all of that happily if it meant he got to see his son again. He would do anything to feel the pain of watching his child outgrow him. He would give everything to feel something other than this. Anything but this.
He stands abruptly, he has to leave. He’s too close to breaking down, to losing it completely, and if he did that, he may never be able to put himself back together. That’s why he never comes here, it’s why he can’t. Too many people rely on him now.
He takes a deep breath and one last look at the grave. He tries to say it, to form the words on his tongue, but they never come.
He walks away.
Happy Birthday dear Jason
20th
Red Hood runs like he has been running his whole life, like he’ll never stop. He doesn’t bother to see if the cops are still chasing him, he doesn’t care, he just runs.
He turns down an alley and spots an old fire escape and its instinct. He hops up and climbs until the street is far beneath him. He hears the cops down below, sees their lights flashing in the night sky. He remembers when he used to be scared of them, not anymore. Now they’re scared of him.
They won’t follow him here, but it doesn’t matter, he keeps running. Truth be told, it's not them he’s running from today. Finally, he stops and takes a moment to catch his breath. He walks to the roof's edge to rest when he realizes where he is.
The building had been condemned many years ago, now just a rotting shell and cracked front steps. When he was younger, he used to come to this place all the time. It was far enough from the worst part of town that he could handle himself, but just close enough that the cops wouldn’t come near. It was safe here.
He takes a seat and rests on the edge of the roof, his legs hanging over the side, feet dangling far above the street below. There was a time in his life he used to dream of this view, staring up at the rooftops, wishing for a different life. He learned the hard way to be careful what you wish for.
The rest of the memories hit him full force, everything he was avoiding smashing into him like a bomb. Images of a happy boy bursting behind his eyelids, eating pancakes and playing basketball. Fragments of a life he lost; one he can never have back. A life he would give anything to have back, especially today. No one even remembered what today is, it used to be his favorite day of the year.
He loses track of time as he watches life go on below him, so much time has passed since he was last here, but some things never change. It’s quite when he first notices it, the flicker of a familiar shadow. He doesn’t move, doesn’t react, but lets him come.
A quiet thump sounds behind him, he doesn’t even flinch.
“What do you want B?” he asks without turning around.
A moment later the footsteps come closer and a large figure sits down calmly beside him. They sit in silence for a moment, what a sight that must be. The Red Hood, a wanted murderer, and the dark knight himself. Though Hood had long since stopped worrying about things like that and if the people below noticed them, they didn’t care enough to show it.
“Why are you here B?” Hood asks again.
“Do you think I forgot?” Batman turns to his son and removes his mask, transforming instantly to Bruce Wayne. “We still celebrated, even when…” he can’t bring himself to finish that sentence. Red Hood turns to him in surprise, and after another moment removes his mask as well. Becoming just Jason Todd.
“Why?” he asks.
“You’re family,” Bruce says
“Even after all these years? Even after everything I’ve done?”
“When you were gone, I would have done just as much and more to bring you back, no matter how long it took. You’re my son,” Jason looks away to hide the tears forming in his eyes.
“What now?” Jason says. His voice rough, quiet.
“Whatever you want Jay-lad. It’s your birthday after all,” Bruce responds, his voice just as broken. “Alfred even made cake.”
“Yeah, alright. I could definitely go for some cake.” Jason smiles weakly. Bruce nods and replaces his cowl, gesturing for Jason as he leaps from the roof. Red Hood replaces his helmet and follows into the moonlight.
Down below, two odd shadows cast the street in darkness as Batman and his Robin run across the rooftops once more.
Happy Birthday to you
#batmanday#bruce wayne#jason todd#tw: major character death#tw: homelessness#angst#but with a happy ending#birthdays#my first fic
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Untamed Fic Rec List
Look, most of these are reasonably popular fics already, so if you’ve been in this fandom for a couple months you’ve likely read them. Which is not how I normally do rec lists, but I’m new enough to Untamed that I’m still reading through all the fics by authors I know from other fandoms plus ones that have been personally recced to me, so I haven’t made it into the deep dive of underappreciated fics that I normally like to rec.
It doesn’t help that one of these recs is 445K, so for like two weeks straight it was basically all I was reading.
BUT if, like me, you are rather new to this fandom and its fics, here are some good ones:
The Same Moon Shines Series by sami
This is the 445K behemoth, made up of 23 works, and is technically made up of three interrelated series. The first fic, which establishes the whole universe/multiverse, is 139K on its own. Basically, decades into the canon future, WWX invents time travel.
He goes back to being born, but is reborn with all his memories intact. And he fixes, like, fucking everything and it’s so, so fucking satisfying. Everything’s not perfect though - for example, he like lowkey (highkey?) traumatizes LXC by showing him his previous life via empathy and that has some consequences eventually. Featuring ace poly JC/LXC/WQ triad.
Then in a cracky subseries, appropriately called “ridiculous future bullshit”, we assume that the main six from this universe (WWX, LWJ, JC, WQ, LXC, JYL, & Lan Sizhui) all achieve immortality and find out what they’re up to in the modern day, where they’re revered in the Five Nations (this does a great job of staying in the canon world instead of ours) but of course white Western assholes do things like try and make a disney movie called Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch where they marry LWJ off to a girl.
And then in a third subseries, which so far has only one WIP fic, we go back to the canon universe, find out that JC and LWJ were stuck there watching WWX disappear in his time machine array (so WWX actually split off into another universe, he didn’t rewind his own), and so they get into the array having no idea what it will do but wanting to chase down the asshole they love. And so a third universe is born, where they are both born with their memories but WWX is not. I absolutely love seeing how different their priorities are from WWX’s in terms of what they want to change in their new life.
(Also: This is technically a MDZS fic that usually goes with novel canon over show canon if there’s a discrepancy, so if like me you haven’t read the whole novel you might need to look up some plot points now and then.)
The Vermillion Ribbon by @unforth
AU where Wei WuXian was taken in by Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s parents instead of the Jiangs. LWJ (who is the POV character) is a super DUPER dick to him at first, like even moreso than in canon, but the speed with which he regrets his choices is breathtaking and extremely satisfying.
LWJ is a VERY unreliable narrator. He has absolutely no idea what is going on with himself or anyone else at any point in time. Eventually he at least becomes self-aware of this fact, and can at least go wait am I missing something? I think I’m missing several somethings but fuck if I know what. Wei WuXian not understanding this about him leads to some miscommunication, because WWX doesn’t get that LWJ needs absolutely everything spelled out to him in single-syllable words with crayon drawings and y’know, WWX isn’t going to be straightforward anytime he can pretend he’s TOTALLY FINE :D :D :D instead.
LWJ’s friendship with NHS is magical, and NHS in general gets 810% more opportunity to scheme and plot pre-time-of-NMJ’s-canonical-death than in canon and is honestly living his best life. It’s also valuable for LWJ to have a scheming friend because, aside from realizing he misjudged WWX, this is how he starts to figure out that he’s a dumbass who has no idea what is going on ever. But he can count on NHS to always be ten steps ahead, so it’s okay.
(ETA: I’m sorry, I made unforth feel like maybe LWJ was too dense, and no, he’s very much not stupid in general. Like, honestly the fact that he becomes so self-aware of the things he’s bad at, and does things like trust NHS to always understand the stuff he’s missing, makes him come off as very intelligent. It’s just in the specific realm of understanding anything that people say or do that isn’t 100% honest and straightforward that he is just entirely hopeless in a rather relatable way, and like I said, WWX’s go-to is hiding any and all pain so that is a bad combo.)
The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou
This diverges from canon when WWX is on his way to Jin Ling’s one month celebration, but doesn’t bring Wen Ning along. So when Jin Zixun attacks it goes very poorly for him, poorly enough that Jin Zixuan thinks he’s dead and it’s reported back at Carp Tower as such. Sending LWJ into a dissociative state. He manages to break through to reality just long enough to find out that Jin Zixuan took WWX’s body back to the burial mounds and left it with Wen Qing, and to get on his sword and go directly there. Thankfully, it turns out that WWX is not dead, but only just barely so.
So LWJ stays there, because now that he spent some amount of time (he isn’t really sure if it was like five minutes or two hours, because dissociation) thinking WWX was dead he now knows that he should never, ever be anywhere but with WWX.
Honestly, it almost feels like a spoiler to say WWX doesn’t die, but there’s no major character death warning while there IS one for graphic violence so it’s not a chose not to warn either, so that’s technically not a spoiler. But things are touch-and-go for him for a very, very long time. And the romance is a slow burn with pining galore. And you get to see LWJ teaching A-Yuan to play the guqin, so like imagine being WWX and you wake up from almost dying to see that going on in your cave.
Velle: to will, to wish by @aerlalaith
This one is actually canon-compliant, and as it’s both quite a bit shorter and more straightforward, plot-wise, than the others, my writeup will be short but that doesn’t mean I loved it any less. Basically, it’s the process of LWJ deciding to adopt A-Yuan in the aftermath of WWX’s death. It starts just after he’s been beaten for turning against the other cultivators, and at first it’s mostly his grief and both physical and emotional pain. A-Yuan starts slipping in to visit him. and LWJ isn’t sure if he’s really okay with that at first.
Of course he becomes very okay with it, but the Lan elders and Lan Qiren and all aren’t just going to be like “ok sure you can barely walk you should def adopt a four-year-old of unclear origins who may or may not have something to do with your demonic dead boyfriend and the evil people he helped, that’s cool,” so it’s not that simple.
There’s a followup fic where, years later, LWJ chooses the courtesy name Sizhui and Xichen gives him shit for it.
save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae / @fozmeadows
Continuing on my grand tour of Untamed fics by my fave writers from other fandoms, I get to enjoy having overlapped with foz on a third straight fandom which is just fabulous. I totally thought I wasn’t gonna read AUs and then this asshole comes along and writes AUs, which is not playing fair.
I especially love this because it’s modern day but much like ridiculous future bullshit it’s modern day in (more or less) a canonish world, not our world. So like, they fly on swords, but not long distances because it’s easier to take a train or drive rather than use up all that spiritual energy.
Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan miss the old ways, though, and they think the best ancient tradition to bring back is arranged marriage! Because that will go over well with today’s youth. They try to make LWJ marry Mianmian but he’s like “um I’m gay” and LQ throws a hissy fit about that so Jin Zixuan (who is LWJ’s bestie and is fucking hilarious) hatches a plot for LWJ to cause LQ to stroke out by bringing WWX to Lan Xichen’s birthday party as his fake date.
But when LWJ and WWX meet up to talk this over, LWJ is instantly fucked because WWX has a small child with him and it turns out that this small child is the orphan he adopted. He doesn’t notice he’s fucked until a few days later, though, when WWX comes over for “kissing practice” and they fuck and he calls Jin Zixuan all “I think I caught a feel, what do?” and JZX is like idk, you’re a moron, don’t ask me to clean up your moron messes. And the next day LWJ buys a car seat.
Lan Wangji heard about Jack 110% Zimmermann and said “challenge accepted,” is what I’m saying here. And now I’ve written as much about this 33k fic as I did about the 445k, so I’ll shut up before I just recount the entire plot.
#the untamed#fic recs#wangxian#if I haven't recced your fic I probably haven't read it yet#literally this is most of the fics I've managed to read so far#when I say the same moon shines took up all of my reading time for 2-3 weeks I am being entirely serious#and then vermillion ribbon is 220+k so it took a week or two too#so like i've got ao3 emails waiting in my inbox for fics by tippy and moosefeels and through_shadows_falling and a few others#I promise I will get to them!
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a future of stories, kiss you good mornings
here’s a cute little malum fic in honor of michael’s 25th birthday !! i am sadly not the editing or giffing type and my only real creative outlet is writing so i am forced to show my love for mr clifford by pretending he’s in love with his best friend because you know. that’s how we roll
big shoutout to @blackbutterfliescal and @devilatmydoor for rallying the troops so to speak lol and getting us all to celebrate michael’s birthday you guys are truly both wonderful and everyone in this lil community is so wonderful wow i love you all !!!!! yes i’ve been listening to a very cute love song on a loop for a little bit so maybe i’m being exceedingly sappy but that’s life. anyway enough from me
this is fluffy, fluffy fluff. it MIGHT be the fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written. no tws (i think) just fluff !!! something about malum just brings out all the fluff. if i say fluff one more time i might lose my mind so why don’t we all just dive into the fic okay cool
title from protocol by the vamps (don’t use the song as a guide for the tone of the fic adflkgjfhklmj)
read it here on ao3
Waking up alone threatens to make this birthday pretty bad.
Hopefully it means Calum is making breakfast. Michael would kill for waffles. He blindly sweeps an arm over Calum’s side of the bed, but it’s cold. Michael snuggles deeper into his pillows, keeping his eyes shut for another minute in case he falls back asleep. He’d actually bet anything Calum is making him breakfast right now, because that’s Calum’s go-to birthday move, so Calum will come get him when it’s ready.
Time melts into nothing, and Michael’s not sure if he does drift off again or just float on the edges of consciousness, but after some undetermined stretch a quiet voice whispers, “Mikey.”
“Hm,” Michael grunts.
Calum crawls into bed and presses a kiss to Michael’s cheek (the one not currently flattened against the pillow). “Happy birthday, babe.”
“Would be happier if I was asleep.”
Calum chuckles lightly and wraps Michael up in his arms. His embrace is warm and familiar, and much cozier than the pillows, so Michael burrows deeper into Calum’s chest. “Would it be happier if you had waffles and ice cream for breakfast?”
Michael perks up. “Ice cream?”
“It’s your birthday,” Calum says, a grin in his voice. “Of course we’re having ice cream for breakfast.”
“You’re a terrible influence,” Michael says, tempted by the notion of ice cream for breakfast. “It’s hot.”
Calum laughs outright. “Get up or the waffles will get cold.”
“How’d you know I wanted waffles?” Michael asks, brushing a kiss over Calum’s collarbone before pulling away to look at him. He’s smiling like he knows something Michael doesn’t, and he’s as charmingly adorable as he’s been every day since they met, but Michael feels a little extra in love today. Maybe it has to do with getting older. He’s officially closer to thirty than twenty now. His age can be rounded up. That’s a little bit insane.
“We’ve been together seven years, Michael,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. “You think I don’t know your favorite breakfast food?”
Michael smiles, melty and warm inside. “Love you,” he says.
Calum kisses him. “Love you too. Now get up. Waffles.”
—
Calum is suspiciously happy. Michael points this out through a mouthful of ice cream-soaked waffle, and Calum just cocks his head. The smile doesn’t waver. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re, like, dancing,” Michael says. He swallows his food. “There’s no music and you’re dancing.”
“So you’ve never danced without music?” Calum raises his eyebrows.
“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious,” Michael says, shrugging. He leans forward on his elbow, resting his face on his palm. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“So what do you want to do today?” Calum prompts, still swaying back and forth a bit. Michael wonders if he even realizes he’s doing it; it’s like there’s a song playing that only Calum can hear. Something’s making him light on his feet.
Michael wishes he knew what it was, so he could make it happen every day. Seeing Calum in such high spirits is doing wonders for Michael’s disposition. It’s fun to be in love, Michael muses, knowing that someone else’s mood can be just as instrumental in setting the tone of the day as Michael’s own. If Calum’s energy is anything to go by, today is shaping up to be incredible.
“Nothing,” Michael says honestly. He’s been gazing at Calum for a minute and answers a little late, but Calum has just been letting him. “Just want to relax.”
“I knew you’d say that,” Calum says, smiling airily. Michael makes a noise of protest, but he can’t fight the silly grin.
“If you knew, then why’d you even ask?”
“I had to make sure!”
“Yes, Calum, you know me better than anyone else on the planet,” Michael says wryly. “Are you satisfied?”
Calum’s smile grows. “I got you a birthday present.”
“I should hope you did.”
“It’s a bit non-traditional, though,” Calum continues. “As birthday presents go.”
Like there are traditional birthday presents? Michael wrinkles his nose in confusion. “Okay? Are you going to give it to me?”
Calum hesitates. “Do you want it now, or later?”
“Is this a weird euphemism? Are you just asking if I want to sleep with you?”
“No!” Calum snickers. “No, it’s not. It’s a real thing. I…I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Michael promises. “I mean, you knew what I wanted for breakfast and what I wanted to do for my birthday, so I can’t imagine you got me a birthday present I’d hate.”
“Yeah, this one’s a bit of a commitment, though,” Calum says. “Like, the thing is the present, but it’s also not.”
“What about instead of being really cryptic, you just give it to me?” Michael suggests. He has total confidence in Calum. If the present is something Michael doesn’t like, Michael will eat his shirt.
“So you want it now?” Calum says. “Don’t want to finish your waffles first?”
“Well, you’re kind of building the suspense here, love,” Michael says, grinning and shaking his head. “Just give it to me when you want to give it to me.”
“No, I mean. Okay. I have to go and get it.” Calum shifts, then says, “Finish your breakfast and I’ll go get your present and then I’ll give it to you, okay?”
“Okay,” Michael says, amused. Calum sidles past him, dropping a kiss to his temple as he goes, and leaves. Michael chuckles to himself and takes the last few bites of his waffles — which are delicious, of course, fluffy and warm and not too limp or too crunchy. Calum’s only mastered a few culinary arts, but one of them is breakfast. They work well like that; Calum knows how to make Michael’s favorite category of food.
While Calum is retrieving the enigmatic birthday gift, Michael turns his phone over on the tabletop and finally starts reading through the myriad messages previewed on the lock screen. Luke and Ashton had both texted at midnight exactly, so there’s nothing new from them this morning, but basically everyone else Michael has ever met is wishing him a happy birthday on every single social media platform he has. Just then he hears Calum’s footsteps behind him, and he flips his phone facedown on the table again.
He can get to the birthday messages later. He will. But they’re not going anywhere, and Michael wants to spend this time with his boyfriend, his best friend, his favorite person.
Also, he’s dying of curiosity about the birthday present.
“You done?” Calum asks, gliding back into the room with grace. Michael eyes him; he’s hiding something behind his back but it must be small, because Michael can’t see it. Obligingly, he lays his fork and knife across the plate and pushes it away from him.
“I’m done,” he confirms. “Present time?”
Calum rocks back and forth on his feet. “Okay. But you need to be standing for it or else the effect is ruined.”
“The effect of the birthday present?” Michael says drily, but he doesn’t argue, just gets to his feet, mirroring Calum’s stance by linking his hands together behind his back and giving Calum a cheeky smile. “How’s this?”
Calum shuffles backwards a bit until there’s just about one arm’s length between them. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”
He inhales deeply, exhales, and then falls to one knee, holding out in front of him what he’s been concealing behind his back: an engagement ring.
Michael’s hands fly to his mouth.
“Oh,” he breathes into his palms. “Calum.”
“Let me talk first,” Calum says, smiling up at Michael, and then he laughs a bit. “I don’t know if you can tell that I’m really fucking nervous. I’ve tried to be really cool about it, because I can’t see why you’d say no, but still — I’m scared as fuck. But I’m going to let you save your answer until I’m done talking so that even if you say no you still get an ego boost.” Michael laughs shakily. Tears glaze over his eyes, and as he blinks them away one slides down his face.
Calum pulls the ring towards him, still gazing up at Michael. “So…where do I start, Michael Clifford? My best friend of at least ten years, my boyfriend for the last seven, my favorite person to fall asleep next to, the only person I’d ever learn to cook for. I mean, I never really learned, but I would. I will.”
“You don’t have to,” Michael manages, somehow laughing even though he’s definitely also crying.
Calum giggles, and it’s obvious he’s also trying not to cry. “Let me finish, I’m trying to propose!”
“Sorry, sorry!”
“Anyway, I just…I just love you so much, Michael.” When Michael blinks again, a vain attempt to clear his blurring vision, their eyes meet, and Calum’s words have never been more obvious from the expression on his face. “I…before us, I thought that I got it. Like, I thought I knew what it meant to be in love. But —” He shakes his head. “I so, so didn’t. I thought that sometimes love hurt, but with you it never does. Seven years, Michael, and it’s never hurt to be in love with you. You are one of the — no, fuck it. You are the smartest, sweetest, sexiest,” — Michael breaks out with another laugh — “most driven and charismatic person I’ve ever met, and you shine even when you think you don’t, but especially when you do. I swear there’s nothing I love more than to see you onstage. It’s like watching a fireworks display. Fuck, that’s really cliché. Shit, I thought I’d get through this before I started crying.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand, cutting off a stray tear as it slips down his cheek. “That’s probably a good sign I should wrap it up, then. So, uh, Michael Gordon Clifford with the worst middle name in the history of ever, will you marry me?”
“Yes, of course I will,” Michael says breathlessly, holding out a hand to help Calum up. “Of course I’ll marry you, I fucking love you.”
Calum’s smile is so broad it almost makes his eyes disappear completely. “Thank God.” He takes Michael’s hand and staggers to his feet, and Michael throws his arms around Calum, too overwhelmed for words, though he knows he doesn’t need them; Calum’s said it all, and anything he hasn’t said he definitely already knows.
Calum kisses Michael’s neck. “Technically I haven’t even given you the present yet.”
“Calum,” Michael says, leaning away so he can see Calum’s face in its entirety, all the dips and curves and creases and the laugh lines and the deep brown of his eyes and every inch. “You’ve given me the present every day for the last seven years.”
Calum huffs, lips pulled upward, and he draws Michael into a kiss, one that’s doomed from the start for the way neither of them can stop smiling long enough to turn it into anything real.
“That was cheesy, but I just proposed, so I’ll let you have it,” Calum murmurs against Michael’s mouth. He laughs. “Oh, fuck, I love you. Can I give you the ring?”
“Yes, please do.”
Calum fumbles with the ring box until he extracts the ring, then takes Michael’s left hand and slides it on. “Beautiful.”
“It is,” Michael says reverently, gazing at the crystal and then holding it up so he can see Calum at the same time.
“So?” Calum says hopefully, tilting his head. “How would you rate this birthday present?”
Michael does a double-take. He’d completely forgotten his birthday in the excitement. “Ten thousand out of ten,” he says, and kisses Calum sweetly on the lips. “You’re going to have a lot of trouble topping this for my 26th, though.”
Calum just laughs, like he knows what Michael knows: that the promise of spending every birthday for the rest of his life with Calum is a gift Michael will keep receiving every year, and nothing could ever beat that.
#mgc25#michael clifford#calum hood#malum#malum fic#5sos#5sos fic#fic#my fic#really waited til the last second here didn't i#WELL! important thing is i got it done#the love song i was looping was thanks for choosing me by lucy spraggan#and yes. i do want everyone to listen to it#because i love it#it's like. it's such a good love song. one of the best love songs ive ever heard honestly#oh shit i have to go do my laundry#okay! posting and leaving#for some reason posting fic on tumblr is SO STRESSFUL#i hateeeeeeeee#oh well !! that's life#omg okay stress stress POSTING NOW BYE
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rule breaker (haechan bratty sub au)
WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ (no protection mentioned, sexual content)
Word Count: 6.4k 😯
Themes: femdom, friendship, fwb, switch, sub/dom themes, edging, replacement of the title Mistress with Princess*
Pairing: Haechan/Lee Dong-hyuck x Female Reader (ft. appearances from mark lee)
PLOT: Dong-hyuck, the hyperactive and silly class clown isn’t used to following directions -- inside or outside of the bedroom. After his friend (Y/N) goes through a sudden breakup, and the discovery of a pair of handcuffs leads him to the reasoning why, he finds himself in an interesting position. He may be in for more than he expects when she offers to show him just what it was that her ex couldn’t handle.
PS: Requests are open for fics and short blurbs
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You absentmindedly doodled in your notebook as your teacher taught the last lesson of the day. Graduation was quickly approaching and it was clear that most other students, yourself included, had mentally checked out.
The sun poured through the massive glass windows of the classroom, putting emphasis on the speckles of dust that danced through the air and even more emphasis on the boy in the row in front of you, one desk over, who glowed under its rays.
His tanned skin and bronze hair looked even more rich than they usually did at this time of the afternoon. With nothing else around to distract yourself with, you momentarily admired him. Lee Dong-hyuck. I mean, yes... he was certainly attractive -- but you’d hardly admit it to his face.
“Haechan, that’s enough,” murmured the teacher, in an exasperated tone. He called the student by the nickname most of his classmates used. The name he preferred.
The classroom was filled with a fit of giggles, coming from the students. You missed the joke. Not that you missed much. This was a typical occurrence. Hyuck was what most people would refer to as a class clown but not exactly in the traditional sense. He didn’t necessarily crack jokes, or aim for the approval of others through his form of “entertainment”. He was quick witted, and mouthy, and quite frankly a bit of an asshole but with a class this boring -- such things were greatly appreciated to lift the spirits of the students who were surely just watching the clock in hopes of the final bell ringing sooner rather than later.
Hyuck shot a quick apology back at the teacher. Mark lee, his best friend who also happened to be seated directly next to him at the desk right in front of you, pulled him into a headlock the second the teacher turned back towards the blackboard and began to ruffle his hair. The boys tried their hardest to quietly withhold their leftover laughter from whatever stupid comment was made earlier.
“Hyung, relax!” Hyuck jokingly began, “I know you’re used to having crazy hair, but that life isn’t for me!”. He smoothed out his hair as Mark flicked him -- a punishment for his slick comment.
“My hair isn’t crazy... its just a bit curly!” he said, trying his best to fix the dark ringlets that cascaded over his forehead.
You reached across your desk and softly pulled at one of his curls. “Don’t listen to him Mark, your curls are seriously too cute,” you whispered as you shot him a quick wink. His cheeks flushed pink and he responded with a shy smile and quick nod of his head in your direction.
Hyuck swivelled his head around, narrowing his eyes at Mark before turning to you with an expression you were far too familiar with. The boy pouted as he leaned his elbow back onto the empty desk next to you before fluttering his eyes as he rested his cheek in the palm of his hand.
“And what about me, Y/N?” he asked. As lovely as he looked, still glowing in the sunlight, you had no choice but to take him down a peg... but not before having some fun with the little flirt.
“Hmm...” you sighed, narrowing your gaze as though you were thinking deeply. You brushed your hand across his exposed cheek and leaned closer to his face. The smug look on his face disappeared with each inch you eliminated between the two of you. By the time your faces were directly in front of each other, he looked a little flustered.
You lowered your voice seductively before speaking. “I think...” you began, “you’re probably due for a haircut.” Mark chuckled under his breath after witnessing the exchange.
Just as you thought you’d won the battle, Hyuck quickly snapped back “But then you’d have nothing to pull on, Y/N”. With your faces still close together, he dropped his gaze to your lips before licking his own.
“Okay, gross...” murmured Mark, before turning his attention back to the teacher who was still aimlessly drawing formulas all over the chalkboard. Hyuck’s intense gaze shifted between your lips and your eyes before you decided to break the distance between the two of you.
“In your dreams, Dong-hyuck,” you said as you leaned back into your chair, sighing deeply and rolling your eyes. He furrowed his brows, annoyed at your refusal to call him by the name everyone else used.
“Actually, you usually call me Haechan when you’re screaming my name in my dreams...” he mumbled stubbornly before turning back around in his seat. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, completely impressed by how nonchalantly he admitted to fantasizing about you. Typical Hyuck.
The rest of the class passed by painfully slow. The final bell pretty much brought every student back from the dead as they jumped up, excited to start their weekends. You gathered your belongings to leave class with both Mark and Hyuck trailing behind you.
All three of you had gone to school together for years and were considered to be pretty decent friends. Mark and Hyuck were obviously extremely close, like brothers almost, and you were once a big part of their friendship as well until you all hit puberty and the dynamic seemed to shift. Hyuck got more flirty, Mark got a little more nervous, and the time you all spent together was limited to whatever classes you coincidentally shared and conversations at parties or in passing at school.
This was one of those moments. The three of you navigated your ways through the halls of your school as other students chattered amongst themselves about the parties happening that weekend, while emptying out their lockers for the day.
Hyuck and Mark were discussing some new album that had just been released when you reached the entrance of your school.
“Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend over there?” Hyuck asked, nudging your shoulder.
All three of you glanced up at a boy hanging by the bottom of the staircase, speaking with a group of students. His smile dropped from his face the second he looked up and met your gaze, replacing it with an expression of... fear, almost. He quickly wrapped up his conversation and turned in the opposite direction before walking off.
“Jeez, Y/N. What was that about?” Mark asked.
“Yeah, he looks terrified. What did you do to him?” Hyuck began, “and where do I sign up?” He chuckled at his own remark as Mark rolled his eyes.
The two boys turned to you waiting for a response but all they got was a shrug. This wasn’t anything new.
“Just another guy who thought he could handle me. The usual,” you stated, pulling out your phone from your pocket to scroll through the notifications.
Hyuck and Mark both stared at you wide-eyed, not quite sure what to make of your intentionally ambiguous statement. You gracefully pushed past them, disregarding the encounter with your ex, and continued walking down the stairs. The boys fell right into step behind you.
Your mom had sent you a message, reminding you that you were going to be alone for the weekend while she went away with her new boyfriend -- for the second time this month.
“Ugh, again?” you mumbled to yourself. Hyuck grabbed the phone out of your hand to read the message as mark peered over his shoulder.
“You’re so lucky you have us, you know. When’s the last time we camped out at your place anyway?” he said, tilting his head while racking his brain.
“7th grade” Mark responded, “You almost slipped off the roof when we climbed up through Y/N’s window.”
You all chuckled at the memory. You had almost forgotten just how close you all once were. The thought of being home alone for the second weekend in a row did sound boring.
Hyuck slung his arm around your shoulder as Mark fiddled with his cellphone next to the both of you as you walked your way through campus. The sun still broke through the few clouds left in the sky as students lounged around outdoors and others caught their busses home.
“You know what you need?” he began, “A real man like me. Someone who can protect you! Someone who can take control and --” the sound of Marks phone cut him off and quite frankly, you were thankful.
“Oh jeez, I totally forgot that I promised Jaemin I’d help him with something tonight. Is it cool if I meet up with you guys a little later? I’ll make it just before bed, I promise!” he said, as he walked backwards, nearly stumbling over his feet as he responded to the message before breaking off into a run back towards the school entrance.
You both shook your heads at his hasty exit. “Meet me in an hour?” Hyuck asked. You nodded in agreement before you both went your separate ways for the time being.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You were just about to step into the shower when there was a knock at your door. You descended the staircase and opened the door to Hyuck standing out front with an overnight bag in hand.
It may have been a while but he entered your home as if it was his own, kicking off his shoes in the same place your family did and climbing his way up the stairs back towards your bedroom, mumbling about some surprise party Mark and Jaemin were planning for Jeno’s birthday.
Once you got back to the room, Hyuck dropped his bag and flopped backwards into your bed. “Ah, I can’t believe you still have those,” he said, pointing at the glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling before pulling out his phone to take a picture that you were certain he’d send to mark. The three of you struggled to get those up there the last time they were over.
“I’m going to shower -- and before you ask, yes... without you,” you proclaimed. Hyuck, who had been ready to make that exact remark suddenly shut his mouth before nodding his head and returning his attention to his cellphone.
A few moments later you returned to the room, fresh out of the shower, in a pair of lounge shorts and a white tank top that sat just at your waist. However, Hyuck was no longer on your bed where you left him.
He had changed into some sweats but stood shirtless with his back facing you, his tanned skin and muscles emphasized by the setting sun that spilled the remainder of its golden orange light through your window. You really couldn’t help but take a brief moment to admire him. As you got closer to him, he turned around with a mischievous grin on his face. That admiration disappeared the second you realized why.
“You know... I was wondering where those marks on your bed frame came from,” he teased as he held a pair of black handcuffs in his hands.
“Did you SERIOUSLY go through my stuff?!” you yelled, marching across the room to retrieve the cuffs from him. He lifted them out of your reach and dangled them over your head.
Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as you jumped up, just now realizing how much taller than you he now was.
“Y/N, now I see why your ex is so scared of you!” he joked, “Wait.. HEY!”
You had jumped up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He instinctively held onto you to avoid the two of you toppling over. Your handcuffs were finally within your reach again. When the commotion settled, you realized you were still in his arms and pressed against his half naked body. As you began to lower yourself, you were met with the feeling of his erection.
“Okay, seriously? That quickly?” you questioned, as the bulge grew against your center. Hyuck slowly put you down with a sheepish grin on his face.
“Its not my fault you’re basically naked!” he retorted.
“Says you! Besides this is my room,” you countered, slapping his chest. He winced in pain as he rubbed the spot that was now plastered with a faint outline of your hand.
“Is this how rough you are during sex?” he said jokingly. You furrowed your brows, lips descending into a slight frown, suddenly self conscious about the statement. You weren’t exactly insecure about your kinks, but because they played a role in your recent breakup the topic was a bit sensitive.
He noticed the sudden change in your expression and sat himself on the edge of your bed before speaking again. “Hey, I was just kidding. This stuff seems hot, I just --” he began before you interrupted him.
“He freaked out and started acting weird, Hyuck. He acted like I was some sort of monster for even suggesting the type of sex I wanted to have. I mean, I get it’s not for everyone but he looks at me now like I’m crazy and we didn’t even try anything,” you confessed. It felt good to get the reasoning behind your breakup off your chest because you hadn’t had anyone to speak to about it yet.
He took the handcuffs from your hand before snapping them open. “Show me,” he demanded. You were taken aback by his sudden proclamation.
“With all due respect, I don’t think you’re the right candidate for this kind of stuff,” you said, laughing at the thought of Hyuck powerless. Your laugh faded when you watched as he attached himself to your headboard, now laying there with his hands above his head.
He looked... sexy. Your breathing increased slightly and your nipples hardened through your shirt. You were hoping Hyuck was too distracted by his positioning to notice but his eyes scanned right over your body the second you attempted to meet his gaze.
“Wow, you must be really into this stuff...” he said, not looking away from the rise and fall of your breasts and their protruding nipples. You were too caught off guard by the sudden change in your rooms atmosphere to speak. Instead, you crawled across the bed before unlocking the handcuffs, and freeing his arms.
“Wait, I thought you were going to...” he began.
“If you want to see what it’s like, you need to do exactly as I say,” you said in almost a whisper. He stared up at you, still laying on your bed with a surprised look on his face. Your tone had changed. He nodded, and you turned to get off the bed before rummaging through your closet for a box that Hyuck hadn’t yet found.
You placed it on the edge of your bed and he curiously peered towards it, ready for your demonstration. You weren’t exactly sure how far this would go. You weren’t even sure if you’d end up having sex but you were curious to see how Hyuck would feel about your preferences, and you valued his opinion.
“Stand up,” you demanded sternly. A smile danced across his face as he excitedly rushed off the bed. “Undress,” you continued.
“Wait, for real?” he almost yelled. It dawned on you that you were actually about to potentially cross a line between your demonstration and actual sex. You backtracked slightly.
“Um... just your pants. Keep your boxers on,” you answered. Hyuck’s face fell, clearly disappointed. He sighed and untied the waist band of his sweats before stepping out of them.
He instinctively stepped forward to tug at the strings on your shorts, assuming that you’d both be getting undressed. You grabbed his wrist in response, with your other hand gripping at his neck. He froze, taken aback by your quick movements.
“Did I say you could undress me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. Hyuck was momentarily flustered before his smile broke across his face once more.
“Wow, Y/N. I didn’t think you had it in you,” he laughed, as he freed his wrist from your grasp to rope his hands around your waist.
“First rule. You refer to me as princess,” you said, as you removed your hand from his neck and swatted his hand away from your waist. “And you seem to be having difficulty keeping your hands to yourself...” you began.
You returned to your closet to grab a belt -- the solution to your problem. “Can you blame me? Look at you... wait what are you getting that for?” he asked, noticing the leather belt you were carrying towards him.
“Your actions have consequences, baby. Hold out your hands,” you demanded. He narrowed his eyes at you in defiance, his mischievous smile returning. “I won’t ask you again. Hold out your hands Hyuck,” you repeated. This was already getting exhausting. You knew he’d be a handful but you didn’t expect it to start this early.
He finally complied, and you fastened the belt around his wrists, tugging at it to make sure that it was secure enough.
“Okay Y/N, what’s next?” he asked. The look on your face was telling. He knew almost instantly that he had made a mistake and was quick to correct himself, “I- I mean princess,” he stuttered.
“Good, you’re learning. On your knees,” you ordered. He dropped to his knees almost immediately. You sat down on the bed with Hyuck facing you, pausing to stroke his cheek as you examined his face. He looked so beautiful on his knees in front of you like that, even though it took him so long. You could feel yourself getting turned on again at the sight of him in yet another submissive position.
You took another moment to trail your eyes down his body, pausing at the large erection bulging out of his boxers. “Have you been turned on this entire time, baby?” you asked, still stroking his face. He nodded.
“Please use your words, Hyuck,” you urged.
“Yes, princess,” he said calmly.
“You’ve already given me such a hard time. You like breaking rules don’t you?” you asked him. You had leaned forward to meet him at eye level, your faces centimetres from one another. Your every breath danced against his lips, and his against yours.
“Yes, princess,” he admitted.
“If you break the rules, you’ll get punished. I won’t go easy on you, especially if you do it on purpose. Do you understand me?” you said, no gripping his face.
“Y-yes princess,” he stammered.
“Undress me,” you ordered. He began to lift himself off his knees before you reached out and pushed him back down towards the floor. A brief look of confusion crossed his face as he looked down at his bound hands.
“Use your teeth, baby,” you urged. You began by lifting one of your feet towards him. He peeled off your sock before doing the same on the other foot.
You helped him up to his feet and he proceeded to hook his teeth around one of the straps of your tank top, followed by the other. He struggled slightly but eventually pulled the top down the length of your body, leaving you topless.
He stared at your bare chest, nipples erect, and stepped closer to you with a look of hunger in his eyes. “Keep going,” you demanded. He seemed to snap out of his trance as he glanced back up to meet your gaze. There was a familiar look in his eyes. A look that always came before trouble.
Hyuck lowered himself to his knees as slowly as he possibly could, blowing air across your nipples, across your chest, and down your tummy. The sensation sent shivers down your body. You didn’t bother stopping him. It felt good. He’d be getting punished for it later anyway.
As he reached the waistband of your shorts, he untied them with his teeth before dragging them down the length of your legs, followed by your panties. When he was done, he peered up at your naked body.
“Fuck,” he murmured to himself. His gaze took in every inch of you. “You’re so beautiful, princess.”
Your heart fluttered at his statement. You sat back at the edge of the bed, and he instinctively returned to his position directly in front of you, like an obedient sub.
“Hyuck, listen. Before we continue, we need to establish a safe word. If you feel uncomfortable, say sunset and i’ll stop whatever i’m doing,” you said. “Yes, princess,” he responded almost immediately, “but i think i’ll be able to handle it.” He flashed a quick wink before running his eyes back over your body again, this time biting his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I’m serious. I’m not going to go easy on you. Especially since you’ve been such a brat so far,” you said. You slowly spread your legs then reached out and grabbed him by his hair before pulling him towards you.
Hyuck wasted no time diving towards your heat faster than you even directed him, mouth agape. You had to pull his head back before he could make contact with your skin, no matter how badly you wanted it.
“Don’t be so eager, baby. Wait for your directions,” you reminded him. You held him centimetres away from your slit by his hair. “Stick your tongue out for me,” you ordered. He quickly complied. You brought him closer to your center and the second he met your hot flesh, he licked the entire length of it.
You groaned in response at the sudden contact before forcing his head backward. You had to stay in control. No matter how good it felt.
“I- I didn’t tell you to move your tongue,” you stammered. Your breathing had increased and your chest was now quickly rising and falling.
“Stick your tongue out. I’m going to ride your face. And you aren’t going to move your tongue until I say you can. Do you understand, baby?” you asked, still out of breath.
Hyuck groaned, his erection desperately forcing itself against the fabric of his boxer briefs. “Yes, princess. I understand,” he responded, before resuming his position.
You brought his head back into position, once again moaning at the sudden contact. This time Hyuck followed his orders and remained still. You slowly began rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue.
“Oh, yes baby. Fuck... You’re doing so well,” you praised. Your other hand reached up to massage your breasts, still moving rhythmically against Hyuck’s face. He stared up at you, wide eyed, admiring the expressions of pleasure on your face. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world and it turned you on even more.
With one hand still wrapped in his hair, you applied more pressure to yourself feeling his tongue slip through your folds as you gyrated your hips faster. His nose brushed up against your clit with every stroke and the higher you raised your hips, the deeper his tongue dove into your entrance. You watched as your juices covered his chin, soaking the entire bottom half of his face.
“Dong-Hyuck... you- you look so pretty. Like an angel,” you began. It wasn’t like you to shower a sub with so much affection but you couldn’t help it this time. He groaned in response. The sensation increased your pleasure as his mouth vibrated.
“Do you want me to cum on your face like this?” you asked, getting closer to your orgasm. “I’m so close baby,” you moaned. He groaned once more in response sending the vibrations back through your body, this time shutting his eyes.
“Fuck me with your tongue. I need you to look me in the eyes while you do it,” you ordered. Hyuck followed your orders, meeting your gaze once more as he altered the angle of his tongue to better penetrate your hole. With your fingers intertwined in his hair, you forced his tongue in and out of yourself. Your free hand dropped from your chest as you began to draw circles on your clit.
You felt the tension building up inside you. You momentarily threw your head back, enjoying the stimulation -- beads of sweat dripping down the sides of your forehead. One last look at the boy between your legs was all it took to send you over the edge as you reached your climax. It was beyond any orgasm you had ever reached before. You could feel your legs shake as the rest of your body convulsed. Still savouring every last moment, you continued to jerk yourself over Hyuck’s face, body shivering at the overstimulation, before falling back onto your bed.
The room was filled with gasps from both you and Hyuck, as you attempted to slowed your heart rate and as he caught his breath. After a few minutes, you lifted yourself back up. Hyuck sat there still, gazing curiously at you. He was taken aback by your intense orgasm.
“Are you okay, Princess?” he quietly asked. You must have been laying there longer than you thought. You nodded. His face was still covered in your juices when you got up to grab a towel before kneeling down to him and wiping his chin.
He watched you, attempting to read your face while you cleaned him up. As you shifted your position to get closer to him your knee brushed against his erection. He winced in pain. The poor baby had been turned on for quite some time now and he shifted his thighs looking for some relief.
You discarded the towel before motioning for Hyuck to stand. Once he was back up on his feet again, you stripped him of his remaining piece of clothing.
His erection sprang free from his boxers, nearly hitting you in the face due to your proximity. This time, it was you who was on their knees in front of Hyuck. He looked down at you with an equally pained and eager expression on his face, waiting for your next move.
“Wow, Hyuck. I didn’t expect you to be this big,” you cooed, as you dragged your fingernails over his length. He shutter in response, moaning under his breath.
“Did it turn you on when I used your face like that?” you asked, gazing up at him seductively. He shifted his footing before responding.
“Yes princess, of course,” he said. He reached down, arms still bound by your leather belt, towards his cock. You stopped him immediately.
“You don’t get to touch yourself. And you don’t get to cum until I say you do, understood?” you ordered. Hyuck groaned in response, clearly frustrated at the predicament he was in.
Your hands circled around his base as you gripped him. He let out a deep moan and threw his head back, nearly losing his footing. He was so turned on, every touch seemed to numb his senses. You began slowly pumping up and down his length, watching his legs shake. A bead of pre-cum, escaped from his tip as his pleasure increased. Knowing it would push him over the edge, with a quick swipe of your tongue, you tasted him.
“Y/N... babe, please...” he whined. “I need to come,” he pleaded.
“You’re breaking a lot of rules, Hyuck. And you know what happens when you break rules right?” you warned.“I get punished,” he responded.
“So you do know better, after all,” you said, releasing him from your grip. He groaned at the loss of contact. Feeling defeated. You watched as he hung his head, eyes closed. You almost felt bad but you warned him that you wouldn’t go easy on him.
You motioned for him to lay on the bed and he did. You removed the belt from around his wrists, softly rubbing at the red marks it left behind. Hyuck looked exhausted.
You raised his arms up and fastened him back to the headboard with the handcuffs he had place himself in before. He complied without complaints. You crawled across the bed to retrieve a black silk blindfold from the box you had brought out earlier.
Hyuck peered over your shoulder, trying to spot the other objects inside but gave up quickly, overestimating the amount of energy he had left. His head feel back against the pillows on your bed as he awaited his fate.
You straddled him, with his erection pressing gently against your ass causing him to stir and groan beneath you. Once the blindfold was secure, you directed your attention back towards his erection, once again pumping at his length.
Hyuck’s body jerked in response to your touch as he raised his hips up, trying to thrust into your hand before you pushed him back into place. “Don’t be fussy. Hold still or else this will take longer than it needs to,” you warned.
He was breathing deeply now, as more beads of cum gathered at his tip. He was trying his best not to release himself but you could tell he was close. Covering his eyes had probably increased his senses, but it also seemed to calm him down a bit more. You made a mental note of it for next time.
You froze as you caught yourself absentmindedly thinking about having sex with Hyuck like this again. He groaned again, disappointed at the halt in your strokes. This had been the second or third time you had stopped.
You had been edging him all this time without realizing and you knew he was nearing his limit. You took the opportunity to lick along base of his cock all the way back up to the tip. He shivered and let out his loudest moan yet.
“F-fuck. P-please, do that again,” he pleaded. You sunk your mouth over the tip of his throbbing erection and his head fell back onto the pillow. He moaned your name as you slowly took every inch of him into your mouth, feeling the tip brush against your throat.
Hyuck muttered every curse word he knew, along with a couple of dirty phrases that you didn’t expect to hear. He even moaned your name, which should have warranted another punishment if it hadn’t sounded so fucking amazing falling from his parted lips. Still you couldn’t allow him to speak so freely.
You removed yourself from his length which generated yet another groan from Hyuck. You sat quietly by his side for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall and a single tear slide down one of his cheeks before picking up the discarded pair of panties he had taken off of you earlier and balling them up in your firsts.
“You’re too loud baby. I need to fix that. Open your mouth for me,” you cooed as you ran your free hand across his chest. Hyuck whimpered before opening up his mouth. You placed the undies inside carefully. This was it. This was the image you’d have imprinted in your mind forever. The image of Hyuck cuffed and blindfolded to your bed with your panties in his mouth. You couldn’t help but lower your hands to touch yourself. You slipped a finger into your entrance, quietly moaning.
It took Hyuck a moment to realize what you were doing. it wasn’t until the sounds of you fucking yourself increased that he let out a knowing moan and began pulling at the handcuffs.
Wetness seeped out of you when you straddled his hips, hovering over his erection. You positioned him at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. He let out a deep muffled growl in response and immediately started to thrust himself up into you, hitting your sweet spot.
“Oh my goodness, Hyuck...” you gasped, with each thrust. You shouldn’t have been letting him move so much. As each stroke became more frantic, you used every ounce of your will power to pull yourself off of him once more.
This time Hyuck protested even more. He yanked at the handcuffs, rattling the bed frame. You knew you were torturing him at this point. He still hadn’t used the safe word yet but you knew he was at his limit. You reached towards his blindfold first, removing it from his eyes. His eyelids where low but he still shifted his gaze to meet yours. You pulled the panties from his mouth and reached up to free him of his hand cuffs.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a quiet tone.
“Sunset,” you whispered. His face twisted in confusion.
“Huh? But I d-didn’t say it,” he responded.
“I know, baby, But I did. I can’t take it anymore,” you confessed.
“Can I?” his voice trailed off as he moved his hands towards you, hovering them over your skin asking for permission to touch you, as if the rules still applied. He was so well behaved -- the complete opposite from how he was when you first began. You nodded and he let out a sigh of relief as his hands traced the outline of your body, first moving up your arms before gliding over your breasts.
He delicately ran his fingers over your nipples and then back down your stomach again. He paused at your hips before snaking his hands around you to grip your ass, sighing as though he had been waiting his whole life to do so.
The pressure was building back up for you both. His erection still hadn’t disappeared and you were shocked he had held off for so long. You reached down as he watched you position yourself to sink down onto him once more before he stopped you.
“You’re not in charge anymore are you?” he asked, eyes going dark. His demeanour had changed but he still was taking heavy breaths, yearning for his own release.
“Technically...no,” you hesitantly responded.
“Good,” Hyuck stated, as he propped himself up on the bed. Within seconds he had repositioned you. Your arms were pressed against your bed frame, as you arched your back. He wanted you from behind. Hyuck wasn’t patient as he placed one of his arms next to yours to steady himself and the other around the base of his cock.
He thrusted into you, drawing a loud moan from your lips. He wrapped his free arm around you, applying pressure to the lower part of your stomach as he disappeared into you over and over again.
Your breasts bounced with every stroke. He pulled your hips towards himself, burying himself as deeply into you as he possibly could.
“I’ve been waiting so long to do this to you,” he groaned into your ear before capturing a lobe between his teeth. The sensation sent tingles down your spine. He proceeded to drop kisses down your neck, marking you, as you approached your orgasm. He quickened his pace, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room. You could feel him throbbing inside you, so incredibly close to his release.
“Fuck, i- I can’t hold it any longer!” he exclaimed. He reached his free hand down between your legs before rubbing circles onto your clit while thrusting into you.
“H-Haechan,” you moaned. It was the first time you had ever used his nickname and it was just enough to send him over the edge.
“Y/N.. baby.. fuck,” he stammered. Your orgasm coursed through you as you felt him fill your insides with his cum. His body went still for a second before he collapsed onto your back, heavily breathing and unable to hold up his own weight.
Haechan gasped for air as you moved from under him, laying him gently on the bed. Beads of sweat were scattered across his face. Before he could regain his composure, you slipped out of bed to clean yourself up. Minutes later, you returned in a new set of pyjamas and a few other items. Haechan’s eyes shot open as you ran a hot towel over his body, cleaning him up. He simply stared up at you, not moving or saying a word as you took care of him. You rubbed oil onto his wrists, massaging over the red indentations the belt and handcuffs left behind, before massaging his knees as well.
When you were done, you pulled him into your chest and bundled him up under your bedsheets. The two of you didn’t move for what felt like ages. After some time had passed, Haechan had slipped out of bed to put on a new change of clothes. You took the opportunity to grab some water and fruit from the kitchen before you both sat next to each other again, aimlessly chatting as you always did. Things had changed between you two. He brushed your hair out of your face as always, but this time his touches lingered more. He playfully licked the juices off your fingers as you fed him fruit, but still teased you as he typically would. He even stopped to sprinkle your face with kisses before capturing your lips with his own. Neither of you really knew what this meant for your relationship but that wasn’t a conversation that needed to happen now anyway.
As you giggled with each other, picking at what was left over the fruits, you both fell silent as you heard footsteps on your staircase.
Marks head popped into your doorway seconds later. “Hey, you idiots didn’t even lock the door, and what happened to your phones I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour!” he complained, dropping his bag next to Hyuck’s.
“Hyung!” Haechan proclaimed, still taken aback by Marks sudden entrance.
“Don’t hyung me, what the hell have you guys been --” marks voice trailed off as his eyes zeroed in on the headboard.
“Yo Y/N, what did you do to your bed... wait,” his voiced trailed off once more as his eyes dropped to the marks on Haechan’s wrists. He tried to cover them up with his sleeves but was too late.
“Holy shit, you let her use those handcuffs that you showed me on you? WAIT... What the fuck happened here?” he exclaimed, jumping off the bed in shock.
You and Haechan burst into a fit of laughter at Mark, who looked equally horrified and disgusted. His cheeks were blushing bright red, and the warmth had reached his ears too.
“You guys are gross, you know that...” he muttered, pulling the plate of fruits away from you both, trying his hardest not to touch the bed.
Moments later, Marks words registered in your head and soon enough you were pushing Haechan off of the bed and onto the floor to join his best friend.
“I can’t believe you sent him a picture of the handcuffs too! You idiot!” you yelled.
“It was BEFORE we used them!” he responded. The three of you laughed and bickered back and forth as the sun finally set.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
final words: wow this one was a bit tough to write. Haechan is a mischievous little thing in this fic and in real life too but I still couldn’t handle the thought of him suffering too much. He’ll always make me soft no matter what 🥺 also Mark was supposed to have a smaller part in this but he just fit so well I even had to put him in the opening gif! please leave your thoughts/comments or feel free to give any criticism so I can correct anything that may be insensitive/inaccurate in my fics. Thank you!
#nct127#mark lee#nct#nct 127#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 smut#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#nct haechan#haechan smut#haechan#nct dream fanfic#nct dream smut#lee donghyuck#nct dream#donghyuck#nct donghyuck#markchan#markhyuck
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Monthly Reads | June 2020
Another 28th, another fic rec for you.
Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. Happy reading!
✸ Caves End | jacaranda_bloom | famous/not famous - slow burn - hurt/comfort - angst - minor injury - miscommunication - fluff - 40k
When a recurring injury cuts short Harry’s time as the Captain of the English Football Team, he needs to rethink his career and his future. His best mate and manager, Niall, decides that what Harry really needs is a change of scenery, time to relax, and to get some perspective on his life. What Harry doesn’t expect is for them to end up in Australia, on a farm, with the most gorgeous man he’s ever laid eyes on.
OR the one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.
✸ Just for Tonight (I can be yours) | SadaVeniren | a/b/o - royalty - secret identity - secret realtionship - arranged marriage - mpreg - 42k
Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha
✸ Falling in the Wrong Direction | FallingLikeThis | past character death - grief/mourning - homophobia - internalized homophobia - secrets - angst - fluff - hurt/comfort - emotional hurt/comfort - enemies to friends to lovers - 25k
When Harry’s fiancé, Liam, passes away just before their wedding, he doesn’t know how to cope. As time goes on, Harry learns to heal, but is left living in the house his fiancé used to share with his best friends and Harry is uncovering a lot of secrets he didn’t know Liam had... while possibly falling for the one person who helped Liam keep them from him.
Harry never quite got along with Louis, but maybe he’s the one person who can help Harry bridge the gap between the life he thought he would have and the one he is now living.
A Catch and Release au
✸ we can only look behind | hereforlou | growing up together - childhood friends - slow burn - friends to lovers - friends with benefits - pining - internalized homophibia - Coming Out - 66k
His mum said there was no getting an idea out of his head once it was stuck in there and Harry thought she was right. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose - his ideas were just really sticky.
(Or, the one where Harry fixates through the years.)
✸ somewhere in between lightning | jassy117, nauticalleeds, shiningdistractionwrites | Love Island Au - exes to lovers - angst - pining - miscommunication - fluff - reality show - 99k
As Louis took another bite, he thought back to how he had once believed that the hardest thing about being on Love Island would be Liam handling his social media.
He had been wrong. It was Harry Styles, peeking over at Louis as he forked a pancake into his mouth, and gauging his reaction. It was having to quench the swelling of his heart, which felt simultaneously like hope and the breaking of a thousand pieces.
---
A summer gone wrong (or very right) when, under Liam’s persuasion, Louis finds himself drunkenly applying for Love Island, and getting accepted. Oh, well. A summer spent on an island paradise couldn’t be all that bad, right?
Imagine his surprise when Louis arrives in sunny Majorca to find that his first love and ex-boyfriend, Harry, is another contestant, about to capture the hearts of everyone in the villa. Most normal people don’t have to face their ex on an otherwise straight TV show. Most normal people don’t fall for their ex again in front of the whole nation, either. Too bad this whole situation isn’t normal.
✸ Dreams Once Remembered | Chelsea Frew (chelseafrew) | rape/non-con - kidnapping - mpreg - unplanned pregnancy - angst - emotional hurt/comfort therapy - child loss - kid fic - rape recovery - 78k
16-year-old Harry Styles is on the verge of a life-changing moment. He has been put in a band on The X-Factor and he and his new bandmates are about to get ready for a glorious adventure together. In one terrible moment, all of that is stolen from Harry.
Kidnapped, Harry spends the next seven-and-a half-years in a twelve-by-twelve shed, suffering repeated assault at the hands of his captor. One of these assaults results in a daughter Harry has raised entirely on his own in the small space they call Room.
Now that Darcy is five, Harry is determined that she be allowed to experience the real world, and he devises a plan for them to escape.
Should they escape, there are many questions. Can Darcy adjust to the outside world? Can Harry start over? What kind of relationship, if any, can he have with the band that moved on without him?
Even with success far from assured, Harry knows he has to take a chance. For him, and for his little girl.
✸ No Friends and An Empty Heart | Maelstrom_Roots | Fleabag AU - mentions of suicide - attempted sexual assault - therapy - sex addicition - angst - grief/mourning - 36k
When Louis Tomlinson gets an invitation for dinner with the family he's been estranged from for a year, he has only one goal: to get his sister to talk to him again. But when an unexpected guest in the form of a hot priest is also at the dinner table, Louis may have to accept that the universe has other plans for him.
A Fleabag Season 2 AU featuring Fleabag Louis Tomlinson and Hot Priest Harry Styles.
✸ Still the One | dandelionfairies | kid fic - past cheating - post-divorce - 54k
Harry was 15 when he met Louis, 17 when they made love for the first time, 19 when they got engaged and married. One would think he has a perfect life, right? It’s what he thought.
He was 21 when he learned that Louis had an affair. It was only one time. That’s what Louis had told him. Harry tried to forgive him. He tried to move on from that horrible moment, but he couldn’t. It was his 22nd birthday when he signed the divorce papers, leaving England behind.
After finding himself living in a small town in Nebraska, Harry learns to live on his own. He becomes a preschool teacher at the local school and spends his free time continuing his own painting. He’s even been lucky enough to sell a few pieces.
He’s 25 when his life is turned upside down once again by the single father who has moved into the house on the property he just happens to park his trailer.
✸ You Left all your Dreams on the Threshing Floor | LadyLondonderry | fashion - journalism - bullying - past sexual assault - 27k
Marcel will go home after work and he’ll clean his vest and he’ll bleach his shirt and tomorrow will be a new day. He’s got other things that he can spend his time focusing on. How to fit in a third quote onto the cover of the fall issue of Mod Mag without covering any details in the model’s face, for instance.
Maybe he’ll switch to gluten-free banana bread for the meeting on Friday. He knows some co-workers likes to eat gluten free, at least.
Someone will have to accept his friendship advances eventually.
They’ll have to.
Right?
-
Louis Tomlinson gets a job at Mod Magazine. He’s quickly drawn to the one person in the office who won’t give him (or anyone) the time of day; Marcel Styles, Senior Layout Editor.
✸ Shadows Come With The Pain That You're Running From (Love Was Something You've Never Heard Enough) | Anonymous | a/b/o - emotional hurt/comfort - angst - fluff - pack dynamics - mutual pining - secrets - slow burn - 51k
“Thanks, Ni, I guess I needed to hear that,” Harry sighed and wrapped his own arms around Niall and squeezed him tightly not caring if Liam would be mad. He missed Niall so much.
“Does it really come as a surprise to you that I’m right? Shaking my head, Haz. You should know me better,” the brunette teased.
Harry giggled again.
“You know Hazza, you really are so different to all the other alphas out there. You’re soft, caring, cuddly and sweet and those damn dimples. So freaking pretty, it’s almost annoying. I would hate you if you weren’t my best friend. You’d really be a brilliant omega. Nature really did a number here,” Niall mumbled. It was his turn to smash his nose into Harry’s neck and Harry was extremely thankful for that because he wasn’t sure he had his facial expression in check at all.
Or a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.
✸ Confessions of a Fabricated Alpha | Anonymous | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - secret identity - famous/not famous - fake/pretend relationship - rape/non-con - public humiliation - anxiety - depression - sex work - 18k
Hearing it now almost made Harry hang up the phone, but he sighed and pressed one to be connected to one of their alpha operators. He’d already committed to this low point in his life and hanging up meant he couldn’t wallow in it and he was in a wallowing mood.
“You are being connected to alpha operator number forty-four. Rogue will be with you shortly.”
The name was said in a different voice like a voice mailbox someone might have on their office phone. It made him snort out a laugh at how stupid it all was. It felt like a budget sex line.
or famous alpha Harry Styles has a secret and paying an alpha to roleplay a relationship with him over the phone is the only way he can be himself.
✸ Iron Hearts, Fire Souls | hopelesswriter | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - alpha/alpha - co-workers - fluff - 26k
"Lou..."
“I know, Harry! I know what you’ll say, we can’t right? We can’t help each other’s needs? We can’t be what the other needs? But fuck, what about what we want?! And I say we because you’ve been saying yes to all of our dates and you've been flirting back all this time and-“ He took a deep breath. “And there is nothing that I want more right now than to kiss you.”
Or the one where Harry and Louis are two single and unmated Lawyer Alphas that have to share an office and even though they shouldn't be that attracted to each other's scents, it sure isn't a big deal, right? I mean, what could go wrong?
✸ last blues for bloody knuckles | creamcoffeelou | a/b/o - strangers to lovers to strangers to lovers - mob au - religious themes - pregnancy - angst - 34k
“Hi, love,” A too-familiar voice greeted him from the other side of the door. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips that he brought between two fingers as his eyes raked over Louis.
All Louis could do was stare, wide-eyed at the alpha that he’d left behind so many years ago.
“Harry?” His voice felt far away, like it wasn’t him that was speaking. On the other side of the door stood the one man he never thought he’d see again, and maybe the only man he never wanted to see again. A few steps behind him stood Liam and someone else he didn’t recognize, with guns tucked into their front pockets.
“I need you to come with me.”
OR
Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.
He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.
A mob au.
✸ It Feels Different When You’re With Me | Rearviewdreamer | sign language - slow burn - 45k
Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.
✸ let me carry your weight | soldouthaz | trainer Harry - insecure Louis - pining - smut [check tags for specific smut tags] - 28k
louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.
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Sunflowers, Snapdragons, Roses and Daisies
Dousy Week Day 2 - Prompt : AU - A Flower Shop and Fake Dating AU in one
Actually a little Multichapter AU fic I’ve been working on for awhile. Enjoy :)
Summary: While covering a shift at Jemma’s flowers shop, Daisy must help a customer with an unusual request. When they discover flowers may not be the right thing to solve Daniel’s problem, they work out a new solution.
AO3
The custom of bringing flowers to a date, while once a staple, has become an outdated practice and is regarded as an old-fashion tradition, now considered unnecessary outside of special occasions. To avoid social faux pas these occasions should be limited to anniversaries, holidays and birthdays; never first dates where the gesture may come off as creepy or overstepping.
Seriously, Daisy thought. Of all the creepy things men do, bringing flowers to their date hardly qualified. Why did Jemma even have her reading this book? That was that kind of mentality that was going to put her little flower shop out of business.
“Excuse me miss, I could use some help, when you have a chance.”
Daisy nearly falls off her stool. She looks up to see a handsome man standing on the other side of the counter looking around uncertainly. How long had he been standing there? She hadn’t even heard the door open. She wants to swear, mostly because she’s already messed up but also because she really doesn’t want to help anyone. Despite what her name might imply, she knows next to nothing about flowers. She was only supposed to cover the desk and phones while Bobbi was out today.
She falters, trying to assess the situation quickly. She could do this, it was just flowers. She looks the customer over, thinks again that he’s a good-looking guy, wearing a nice, if a little stuffy, suit. He probably just needs flowers for his wife or girlfriend. She glances at his hand. Girlfriend then.
“Of course, I’m sorry, I was just caught up in my book.” She closes the book, giving the impression of her full attention. “What’s the occasion, anniversary?” She hopes it is. You give roses on an anniversary, even she knew that. It’s funny, she thinks in the back of her mind, at another time, when she wasn’t trying to save Jemma’s shop from a horrible review, she might realize it was odd to wish for the good-looking guy with the polite smile to be taken but Bobbi has already warned her about that. All the decent guys who come in are already spoken for.
“I’m afraid it’s not quite so simple.” He answers sheepishly.
“Ok, well, let’s hear it, I’m sure we can find the right thing.” Her fingers curl around the edge of the book. Where was Jemma? She was supposed to be back from the greenhouse by now.
He seems to consider his answer carefully before replying. “It’s more of a congratulations.”
“That’s not so bad,” she flips the book back open, prepared to check the index. “What are we celebrating?”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s probably not in your book.”
Daisy shakes her head. “This book comes with the Dr. Jemma Simmons stamp of approval, if it can be said with flowers, it’s in this book.” Or so she’s been told.
“My ex-girlfriend is getting married.”
Oh.
“That’s – well that’s, kind of passive aggressive, but some of these flowers do have pretty cruel meanings, I’m sure we can get the point across.” It makes him laugh which is great because that’s what she’d been going for. He was right, that wasn’t an easy one and she didn’t have a clue where to start. “OH! We have some great discount bouquets!”
“No, no, um, I’m happy for her, for them, really.” His shoulders are still shaking from laughing and she notices his eyes crinkle a bit at the corners, but after a moment of quiet he does let out a heavy sigh. He still needed something.
She gives him back a sympathetic smile. “My friend, she’s the owner, she should be back soon, if anyone can figure it out, she can.”
“No more faith in your book?”
“Umm.” Daisy flips the book to the list of flowers and their meanings. It was an insane amount of information, most of which was irrelevant according to Jemma. Customers who didn’t have much to spend asked for something pretty and simple. Customers with money to spare asked for something different. Nine times out of ten they didn’t care what the flowers meant, they either wanted a deal or to make a statement. She assumed in this guy’s case it was less about saying the right thing and more about not saying the wrong thing. He certainly couldn’t send roses to his ex to congratulate her on her wedding. But maybe some flowers with no romantic connotations. She could probably manage that. “You know what, I think we can put something together.”
He smiles back at her gratefully and follows her to the worktable set up in the middle of shop. Strewn across the table are rolls of red and blue ribbon from where she and Jemma had been finishing up some wedding flowers earlier that morning. She pushes it all aside into a messy pile and can hear her friend’s scolding tone about a neat workspace being a happy workspace.
“Does she have a favorite flower?” Daisy asks as lays out some paper the same way she has seen Jemma do.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay, no problem.” Daisy looks around the shop. “Okay, what about – yellow!”
“I’m sorry?” He asks, not understanding her outburst.
“Yellow flowers, there are usually no romantic undertones associated with them.” She recalls as she grabs bins of yellow sunflowers, carnations, and daffodils, deposits them on the table and goes back around for the daisies, roses, and tulips. Eventually the table is full and Daisy returns her attention to the book.
By this point the customer has taken a seat at one of the stools by the worktable. He’s watched her shuffle around the store with amusement written across his face and now as she settles down to sort out his request he finally speaks again.
“Have you ever done this before?”
She looks up.
“Even once?”
“No.” She answers truthfully. She’s been caught, no point in lying about it. “But I’ve watched Jemma do this a million times, it’s not that hard.”
She expects him to stand and leave. Find a flower shop with a competent salesperson and a shelf dedicated to flowers for awkward occasions. Instead he remains seated. “Alright, where do we start?” With a surge of confidence, she continues.
She looks at the flowers. “Which do you like?”
“Damn.”
“Still no good.”
“Disappointment and rejection, probably not going to work.” Daisy sets aside the yellow carnations. “I thought for sure, I mean we sell a ton of these.” So far, they have had to discard the marigolds, the roses, the chrysanthemums and nearly everything else she’s familiar with. The sole survivors are the daisies, the tulips and the sunflowers, and even those were on the fence.
They’d been at this for nearly an hour now. Daniel, he had eventually introduced himself, had made himself comfortable, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. He was happy to fetch and return whatever she requested. Daisy, twice, had to stop to help other customers and each time he apologized for taking up too much of her time and insisted he could come back later.
She refused. They would figure it out even if it took all day.
“Who even decides these things,” Daisy groans as she rearranges the flowers in front of her. “Dark thoughts, false riches, who looks at bright yellow flowers and thinks that?”
“Sounds like someone with a broken heart.” Daniel replies.
“Maybe.” It was the best explanation she could think of. She scoops up the flowers and drops them into a vase so she can see them standing up. They flop lifelessly. She grabs up some of the filler greens to support them, but it still looks a mess. “This would be so much easier if you just hated your ex like a normal person.”
“She’s not the problem, if I could just go to the wedding I wouldn’t need the flowers at all, I could just bring a toaster oven or a blender or booze, like they registered for.”
Daisy sighs and shoves the vase away. “Why can’t you go to the wedding?” He must have been invited it he has the gift registry.
“I can, I want to,” he pauses, “you don’t think it’s weird, to go to your ex’s wedding.”
She shrugs. “Not if you were invited and as long as your happy for them, and you know, you’re not still in love her with her or anything like that.” Now she takes a moment to pause. “You’re not still in love with her, are you?”
Daniel’s expression turns soft and his tone is nothing but genuine when he answers. “No, I care about her, truly, she’s one of my closest friends, but I am happy for them.”
“So go, I see no reason why not.” She encourages. “Please go, because this is a disaster.” She gestures to the flowers.
“I don’t know, its growing on me.” He pulls the vase towards him and adjusts some of the flowers. Daisy immediately realizes he’s avoiding the ‘why not’ and while its not her place to pry, she’s curious now.
“What is the real reason you don’t want to go?”
“It’s that obvious?” She nods. “It’s really not them, it’s everyone else who will be there, we all work together and they know that when things ended between me and her it was really more on her and I was the one left with a broken heart, if I go, I just know I’m going to get that look, that poor pitiful Daniel look, all night long and I already get that enough of that as it is.”
“Why is that?”
“Hmm, oh.” Daniel stops fussing with the flowers. He turns on the stool and tugs up his pant leg to reveal a metal prosthetic.
“Oh well that will do it.” Her surprise gets the better of her and she doesn’t realize till after the words are out how they may have sounded. “Sorry, that was rude.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, it’s okay, I rather people didn’t make a big deal of it.”
She understands. Not what it was like to have a prosthetic leg of course but to have attention for something connected with less than pleasant memories.
The bell above the door jingles, pulling Daisy out of her thoughts. She looks up to greet the customer and instead see Jemma entering the store, a slight squishing sound following her as she trudges to the counter and dumps her bag and keys across it.
“You will not believe – “
“It rained?” Daisy interrupts.
“No, it did not rain,” Jemma runs her fingers through her damp hair trying to make it presentable. “The sprinkler system in the greenhouse went berserk, drenched my phone so I couldn’t call out, I had to run to get Fitz and drag him back there to fix it, I’ll be lucky if everything isn’t ruined.”
“That’s sounds terrible.” Daniel’s sympathetic reply catches Jemma off guard. She spins around with a look of horror on her face that fades just a bit when she sees them.
“Oh! I didn’t realize, Daniel Sousa – ” She surges forward, hand outstretched and a wide grin on her face. Daniel jumps up from his seat to meet her halfway and shake her hand in hello.
Daisy looks back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”
“Daniel is a regular customer.”
“Flower shops have regulars?”
Jemma rolls her eyes. “It’s so lovely to see you again, its been a bit since you’ve been in – “ She trails off, her eyes going wide as she spots her pristine workspace in perfect disarray. Daisy stands and attempts to position herself in front of the table to hide the mess. “What brings you in today?” She asks distractedly.
“It’s a long story.” Daisy is forced to move aside as Jemma steps forward to examine the bouquet Daisy had only moments ago deemed a disaster.
“Oh, I think I’d like to hear it if it somehow ends with this.”
“It’s my fault really, I wanted to send flowers to Peggy and her fiancé, as a sort of apology for not attending their wedding, Daisy was trying to help me put together something that would properly express that without sending the wrong message.”
“I see.” Jemma collects the last bins of flowers and returns them to their homes.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Daisy whispers to him.
“I feel like I just got you in trouble with the principal.”
Jemma returns to the table and inspects the bouquet again. “Well I can see where you were coming from here Daisy, but I told you, most people don’t read much into the meanings behind the flowers.”
“You’re the one that gave me the book!”
“Yes, and in that book, it also tells you that it’s not customary to send flowers for a wedding.” Daisy frowned. She hadn’t gotten to that part. “That said, I’m afraid flowers aren’t going to solve your problem Daniel.”
“That’s okay, it’s probably a sign that I just need to suck it up and go, let everyone whisper over their cake about poor single heartbroken Daniel a little bit longer.”
“That does sound truly awful.” Jemma says gently.
It does, but in that moment Daisy is struck by an idea. “Hey wait, why don’t you just bring a date?”
Daniel looks sheepishly at the ground. “I, I haven’t got anyone to bring.”
“Perhaps you could go out and meet someone new.” Jemma suggests.
“I don’t usually connect with people that fast and the wedding is this weekend.”
“Well it’s not like she has to be the love of your life or anything.”
“Daisy makes a very good point, you could always invite a friend.” Jemma suggests but Daisy already knows that won’t work either, a friend won’t eliminate the look of pity from his colleagues faces. She has only known Daniel for an hour but she’s already on his side. She wants him to have it all, to attend the wedding for his friends and to give a proper screw you to his coworkers. “What you need is a fake date, someone who you can pretend to be invested in just enough that they know you’re over your ex but not enough that the next time they see you they think to ask about her.”
“OH! You should take Daisy!” Jemma looks absolutely giddy, as if her sudden exclamation is a stroke of genius and hasn’t caught her best friend completely off guard.
“Wait what?”
“Well why not, she’d be the perfect fake date, no one will know her, you two clearly don’t mind spending a bit of time together, unless you made this mess all in five minutes,” she gestures again at her worktable. “And I promise under this apron she’s a total babe, no one would look at you and feel sorry for you, I promise.”
Daisy does notice that she is not the only one embarrassed by this proposition; Daniel looks flustered and unsure how to handle having a date just tossed at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“She wouldn’t mind, she really needs to get out more anyways.” Daisy slaps Jemma’s arm.
“I get out.”
Daniel shifts uncertainly. “Still, this wedding is kind of a high profile event.”
“She cleans up really well.”
Daniel’s eyes go wide. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant,” He looks frantically back and forth between them, “I’m sure you do, it’s just there is going to be a lot of people there and possibly media.” He shakes his head as if he can’t believe how ridiculous the notion is and again Daisy finds herself wondering who exactly this woman is. In fact, it has gotten to the point where she kind of wants to meet these people.
“Actually, it might be kind of cool.”
“What?”
Daisy considers for a moment longer before confirming her answer. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind, besides I feel like I’ve got to see this through to the end now, since the flowers were kind of a bust.”
It takes him a full minute to catch up. “Um, the wedding is Saturday, if you’re free?”
She nods.
“Okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “You’re really sure?”
“Yeah, it’ll be great, we can give those gossipy coworkers of your something to really talk about.”
“Alright, great.” He looks at their flower project and turns to Jemma “Can I still buy these?”
“You don’t have to – “
Daisy cuts Jemma off. “Oh my god no, this is, it’s really my problem, you can take the cost out of my pay Jemma.”
“No really, I actually kind of like it.” Daisy doesn’t believe that for a moment, but she also can’t think of any other reason why he’d want to keep the sad little bouquet.
Maybe Jemma does though? She smiles happily and scoops up the vase, “let me wrap them for you.”
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Why Him? | Ransom Drysdale | Part 7
A/N : I hope you enjoy this next part, i really appreciate the likes on this fic so far. Thank you sm. I’m taking requests too for other imagines. i write for everyone!
Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than my Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3. However, reblogs are welcome.
Why Him? MASTERLIST
Ransom’s POV
I pull up at my grandads mansion, locking the beamer as i walk towards the doors. The dogs bombarding me. “Stop” i call out, walking inside. “Ransom” Meg mutters. “Meg, so lovely to see you” i spit as i make my way to the lounge to take a seat. “The party is tomorrow night” grandad states “83 years old and you don’t look a day over 30″ mom chuckles, he waves her off as if to say ‘stop that’. I continue to listen in on the details of tomorrow. I don’t usually enjoy parties, which they all consider ‘quality family time’ but as it is grandad’s birthday, i guess i’ll have to present and find some way to entertain myself. I don’t say a word the whole time until dinner.
We sit there eating away, everyone is talking and there must be about 3 different conversations going on. This isn’t the usual vibe in the Thrombey house. It’s odd but also a very nice insight into how enjoyable dinner with us all here would be if it was like this every time. I just want to spend time with Claudia, maybe this could be the perfect opportunity for them to meet her. They all seem to be a little nicer towards me today “So grandad, can we bring a guest to this party tomorrow?” everyone stops, turning to stare at me. “Well yes, i suppose you can. May i ask who?” he quizzes. I stop the smile from forming onto my lips as i think of Claudia. “There’s someone i’d like you all to meet” he nods “Well i look forward to it” i smile slightly as i continue to eat
Once we finish, Frank makes her way out, clearing the table for us “How’re you Fran?” i barely speak to her and i feel bad “I’m good thank you, how’re you Hugh?” only the help calls me Hugh. “Very well thank you” she speeds away from me as i reply. I wasn’t even mean this time.
I was stuck there for another few hours, playing family games, even though i don’t always feel like part of the family. We always let Marta and Fran join in with the games, after all they do spend most of their time here. I feel my phone buzz, i pull it out of my pocket to see a text from Claudia ‘I’m off to sleep now, talk tomorrow daddy x’ i feel my cock twitch at the nickname. It drives me crazy when she calls me that. ‘Goodnight doll x’ send. I go back to the game with my family. Trying not to let my mind wonder. It gets to 10:00pm and one by one, everyone stars going to their rooms. I take the opportunity to head up myself. I still need to ask Claudia if she wants to come tomorrow. I can always go see her in the morning to ask her face to face, i’m sure she will say yes. Not that i’ve made my family seem very appealing.
I start hearing a lot of talking outside my room, causing me to wake up. I check the time 8:00am. Too early. “Ransom?” I hear my dad knock on the door. “Breakfast in 5. Downstairs please” i huff as i get out of bed. Fully nude. I throw on some boxers and head out to the hallway to go shower. I bump into Marta as i walk towards the bathroom “Sorry” she mumbles as she shoves past me.
Once showered and dressed, i make my way down to breakfast, late as always. “Morning everyone, happy birthday grandad” i smile. “Thank you Ransom” he’s opening gifts from us all as we all shove food into our mouths. “Do you guys mind if i head out quickly?” i check “Is this about your date for tonight?” Walt mutters in an annoyed tone. “Not that it’s any of your business ass hat but yes” he rolls his eyes at me. “So it is a date then? a girl perhaps?” Joni looks towards me. “Ransom with a woman? That isn’t a hooker? Don’t make me laugh” i chuckle at Meg’s insults. “Eat shit Meg”.
We all finish eating and i head out to the beamer, unlocking it and then hopping in. I speed away, making my way to Claudia’s place. A little worried that she won’t be home since i’m turning up unannounced. I park up and head to her door knocking twice before she answers. “Hey” i wink as i lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Hi” she gestures for me to come in. The first time i’ve been inside of her place. It’s very nice, really modern and all neutral colours.
“I know this is very last minute. To be honest i forgot about it myself but every year my family have a party for my grandad to celebrate his birthday. It’s kinda like a family tradition for him. We all attend. It just so happens that today is his birthday and i’m allowed to bring a guest but i’d rather call it bringing a date” there are a couple of seconds of silence and she looks at me confused but i can tell she knows that i’m trying to invite her. “You, i want you to come and meet my family. You can stay the night at afterwards too if you like” she pauses everything she’s doing, turning to me with a look of worry on her face. “I uh. Ranso-” she’s gonna say no.
“I know i’ve not made them seem like the most welcoming bunch but i swear they will love you” i don’t think i’m convincing her. “Please, it’ll mean a lot to me and truth be told i want to get this over with. The thought of this scares me too but what better time to do it than now” she nods her head before walking towards me as i lean against the island in the kitchen. “Okay, but you’re gonna have to help me with what to wear” she grabs a hold of my hand, leading me up the stairs and into her closet.
“Right, pick” i look at her in confusion “You pick my outfit, i know you have a great sense of style” i walk in and starting looking through her dresses before settling on a blue number. It’s a mid thigh and off shoulder dress. Perfect. I then find a black belt and she picks some heels. “Did you want to stay at my place tonight?” she nods with a huge smile on her face. “Good, i did leave some stuff at my grandads but i’ll make sure i grab it before we leave the party” she starts packing an overnight bag as i lay her outfit out on her bed. “When is the party?” she questions “7 ish” she purses her lips. “I’m gonna go run some errands now but i’ll be back to pick you up at half 6″ we head downstairs and as we reach the door “I’ll leave you to it. See you tonight doll” i lean down and kiss her forehead before heading out. She waves me off. I hope they approve of her and this evening goes down without a hitch.
I head home to make sure everything is tidy and ready for when she stays tonight. I don’t normally clean myself as i have a maid but it’s her week off.
I make sure i have condoms and everything i’m gonna need. Knowing full well that i’ll be getting lucky. Not that any of that matters, i’ll be happy just to be in her presence with cuddles. The nerves start to wash over me as i start getting ready, choosing my clothes for tonight. I settle on some black jeans, a blue sweater and my signature long brown coat. Sorted. I finish off and head to Claudia’s house to pick her up. No turning back now.
#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale smut#knives out#chris evans smut#chris evans#andy barber#andy barber smut#johnny storm#johnny storm smut#steve rogers#steve rogers smut#captain america#marvel#mcu
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