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dawn-moths · 4 months

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"Birthday Wishes"

Undertaker x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(@fanfictionsworld requested: spending your birthday with Undertaker from my Cause to Start a Vendetta AU.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! fluff with some smut at the end, oral sex (reader receiving), use of the word “Daddy”, reader is called “princess, baby, sweetheart”.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You’d been counting down the days for weeks now, your birthday circled on the calendar with a big pink glitter gel pen heart several times over, every day crossed off that crawled closer to the day— your day— making you more and more excited.

Because, as you’d quickly grown accustomed to being spoiled by Undertaker— special occasion or otherwise— your birthday was no exception to being showered with all the love and luxury he had at his disposal.

“Morning, princess…” he cooed, gently smoothing down some of your sleep-tousled hair with a big, cool palm, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you blinked open beary eyes, wrapped in his arms and the many layers of blankets that twisted and tangled about your bodies sprawled across the bed.

“Morning, Daddy…” you replied, voice soft and delicate as the lingering dredges of slumber clung to your tone, an angelic little grin curving up on your sweet lips as you nuzzled closer into Undertaker’s chest, seeking out his elusive warmth.

For a moment, nearly forgetting what today was as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your figure filling with the heavy weight of sleep once more, your eyelids fluttered closed and your breathing began to turn slow and shallow. Undertaker rubbed a hand up and down your back, stirring you back to the waking world and smiling to himself as you let out a big yawn, nose scrunching adorably with the expression.

“If you want to go back to sleep,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your nose and causing a fragile giggle to bubble up in your chest, “I won’t stop you. But that would certainly be a shame when we have so many fun things on our to-do list today.”

That was enough to entice you, your mind suddenly much more alert than before, and you snaked your arms up to gently rest over his shoulders. “Just a few more minutes…” you said, pressing yourself even closer to him, wishing you could bask in the safety of his touch forever. “Then I promise I’ll get up.”

A smooth, sonorous chuckle vibrated through his bones, the sound warming you from the inside out like hot milk and honey. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, allowing himself to melt back to a more relaxed state as well. “Just a few more minutes…”

As the sun crept further through the cracks of the curtains, bright beams painting the ornate master bedroom with thin strokes of gold, stirring up the wispy clouds of dust motes swirling through the air, Undertaker coaxed you into finally rising, draping one of his big, fluffy black robes over your shoulders when you became burdened with a chill, the mansion’s usual temperature kept low upon his preference.

Once your feet were dressed in your favorite pair of fluffy socks and even fluffier slippers, you took Undertaker’s hand and let him guide you down the wide halls to the curving staircase, heading towards the kitchen where you could already smell your special birthday breakfast.

The long dining table was decorated to the nines with all kinds of balloon bouquets and bundles of black and white roses overflowing from crystal vases. Spelled out in gold glitter confetti at one end of the display was HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCESS punctuated by a big heart. At the other was a full selection of all your breakfast favorites— souffle pancakes piled high with bananas and melty chocolate chips, strawberry french toasts drizzled with sticky maple syrup and sprinkled with a frosty snowfall of powdered sugar, fluffy scrambled eggs and yogurt parfaits and fruit arranged by color.

You sucked in a gasp of delight, hands clasped before your chest as you eagerly surveyed the scene, looking up at your Daddy like he’d outdone himself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, extending a hand towards the chair at the head of the table— his usual chair, the master’s chair, the dining room’s throne— and pulling it out for you to sit in, taking the seat adjacent to it to join you in the morning’s sugary culinary experience.

Over the meal— you choosing a bit of everything to pile onto your plate in an orderly array, because why should you have to choose just one when today you could have whatever your little heart desired— you and Undertaker began to discuss the day’s itinerary.

There was a packed schedule planned indeed— a shopping outing at all your most beloved designer stores, afternoon tea at the Ritz, exploring some of the artsy nooks and crannies of the city and dropping into your favorite bookstore all before hopping on the Aurora Society’s private jet and taking the hour and a half flight to your favorite five star restaurant in Paris, sure to end the evening by enjoying your usual penthouse suit of the expensive hotel that gave the best view among any of the establishments around.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Undertaker slyly prompted just as you were about to head upstairs to get changed and ready for the events ahead, thoughts already spinning trying to decide what you wanted to wear. You stopped and considered him with an adorably cute expression for a moment until he pulled a big gift bag from under the table where he’d hidden it from you, the glossy black packaging stuffed with glittering silver tissue paper and two perfect satin ribbons serving as the handles. “You know,” he shrugged as he slid it towards you on the table, drinking in your awe, never growing tired of how easily you seemed to be innocently surprised sometimes, “just in case you felt like going out in something new.”

Carefully, as if the wrapping itself was just as valuable as the gift, you plucked the sparkling tissue paper away to uncover the pristinely wrapped box beneath, a marbling of glossy and matte black swirling over the decorative paper like ink dropped into water. The moment the first half of your favorite clothing brand’s name was visible to you, you shot him a glance, as if to say, “you shouldn’t have” despite believing down to your very core that you deserved every expensive, extravagant thing that Undertaker placed in your cute little lap.

Once you lifted the garment from where it had been perfectly folded within its box, holding it up to your body as if to sample how it would look before trying it on, you heard Undertaker sigh, a dreamy, lilting hum tailing off the end of it. “Exquisite…” he remarked, and you now held the dress out from your body, studying the intricate craftsmanship that had been hand stitched into the garment as you smiled to yourself, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It really is.”

But then Undertaker was by your side, having moved soundlessly, his even stride gliding across the short distance to meet you. “I wasn’t talking about the dress,” he murmured, big hands settling on your hips. “Now, why don’t you head upstairs and start getting ready.”

You turned your face up to his, met his lips when he was close enough for a kiss, and muttered out a sweet little, “Thank you, Daddy,” before following his instruction and heading for the staircase.

He watched you go, saw the skip in your step as you ventured off, only returning to clearing the table once you disappeared down the long second story hallway and out of his view. He was going to look forward to taking that dress off of you later, unwrapping you like his own special gift by the time night draped itself over the sky.

***

The afternoon had been like a dream, you and your lover floating from one location to the next to try on extravagant clothing and sample imported teas, the two of you practically waltzing through the downtown streets where you longed to see what new installments the local London artists put up around the city before you’d lost track of time perusing your favorite bookstore, a good two hours going by without you even noticing as you strategically searched for the next story to get yourself hooked on.

But as the sky began to fade from blue to gold, it signaled that dinner was soon approaching, which meant you two had a plane to catch if you wanted to arrive to your reservation on time.

The hostess greeted you two with a friendly smile, addressing you both by name, the entire restaurant staff made familiar with London’s most notorious boss and the beautiful girl who was always on his arm, Undertaker making short, lighthearted conversation with the manager in French while they crossed paths on the walk to your usual table, the man chuckling at something your Daddy had said, forever able to charm anyone if he set his mind to it, it seemed.

As you both enjoyed the delicacies of the six course meal, you continued to talk and laugh, never running out of topics to converse about, though tonight you were most excited to tell him all about the book you’d recently finished and your expectations for the new one you’d chosen on your earlier excursion, having heard nothing but praise for the acclaimed tale.

Once the horizon had lost its lilac blush and sunk deep into the velvet navy of nightfall though, you knew you were just about to enter into yet another phase of your luxurious birthday festivities.

***

You could smell the roses from down the hall before the doors to your hotel suite in Paris even opened. The entirety of the three connected rooms were decked from floor to ceiling in at least one hundred thousand dollars worth of florals, vibrant reds and sultry blacks, flawless creams and even a dash of lovely soft pinks.

You could’ve cried at how gorgeous it all was, blinking the mist from your eyes as you spun in slow circles about the place, taking it all in. Undertaker’s hands found your shoulders to steady you, stopping your awestruck turns to face the beautiful birthday cake on the hotel room’s center table, the special dessert shaped like a heart and iced in a rainbow of your favorite colors, several candles placed strategically on the top and already lit, small flames glowing and beckoning you over to make a wish.

But what could you possibly wish for when you already had everything you’d ever want or need— a gorgeous man who loved you, showering you in every stunning thing life had to offer, as simple as the snap of his fingers or a wave of his hand— besides to continue living this blessed life that had found its way to you, through trial and tribulation?

Taking a few steps forward towards the cake, you choked out through a shaky breath, “Oh my god…” unable to hold back your tears any longer, a few sparkling drops running down your cheeks, glittering like gold as they caught the amber of the flickering firelight. You looked back at Undertaker, who was not far behind you, and wondered if you’d ever be able to convey how much this all meant to you. It almost seemed unfair. He’d always be able to do more for you than you would for him, though he never seemed to mind.

For him, just having you— his sweet, precious baby girl to dote on and adore as much as he pleased— was far more than enough. All you had to do was exist. All you had to do was be his.

“Well, go on,” he lightly urged, a calm smile playing at the corner of his lips as he gestured towards the center table. “The candles won’t blow themselves out, now will they?”

You smiled, big and bright, and let out a sound that could only be described as pure joy. Undertaker was addicted to that sound, the way it rang out like the delicate jingle of bells, the way it warmed him like the sun’s rays after so much rain. It made everything he’d ever done, good, bad, or somewhere in between, all worth it. Just to see you smile at him like that, just to hear you laugh. Just to know it was him who’d been the orchestrator of such emotions.

And as you let out a strong gust of a breath, turning each melting birthday candle from flame to smoke, you realized you did have one wish you wanted to make afterall.

Let things be like this forever, you thought to yourself, like a silent prayer. Let us stay as in love for the rest of our lives as we are right now, in this moment.

Undertaker cut the cake, a piece for you and a piece for him, and then the two of you sat by the counter outlooking the spotless floor to ceiling windows that gave way to the sprawling view of the City of Light, the night sky clear and sparkling with little bursts of silver stars overhead.

You talked and joked and laughed while you both enjoyed your dessert, your chair pressed right next to his, close enough that you could lean your head over to rest against the side of his shoulder while his arm slung across your back, hugging you closer to him, his most cherished treasure.

“You know…” you began, gazing dreamily out the window at the romantic scene the city offered. Then, casting him a glance from where you were nestled into his side, you said, “I think this might really be the best birthday ever.”

Something in his eyes softened a shade then, and in response Undertaker lightly took your chin between his lithe fingers, tilting your mouth just ever so slightly upwards so he could lean down to meet it. You hadn’t expected the kiss, languid and savoring at first as you parted your lips to let him in, both of you tasting like your favorite flavor of cake, soon turning more hungry, having you straddling his lap and blinded by the blissful haze that was slowly filling you from the inside out.

When he finally broke away, leaned back just far enough to look you in the eyes, gently wiping the cool pad of his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip, glossy from your mingled saliva, a weak attempt to clean you up a bit, he said, “I guess that means I’ll have to go above and beyond next year,” and you laughed and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you felt yourself relax over him.

“No, but really…” you murmured. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything. Always.”

All you got as a warning for what happened next was a low, lilting chuckle humming in his chest before he was hoisting you up, big hands splayed against the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you elsewhere in the suite.

“Where are we going?” you playfully asked, though you already had a pretty good idea.

“There’s still a few hours until midnight,” he remarked, a new kind of vigor in his voice and stride. He set you down on the edge of the king-sized bed, beginning to shrug off his jacket and tug his belt buckle free of its loops as he added, “Which means your birthday’s not over yet, princess.”

The smirk that spread across his face then made that fluttering creature resting in your lower belly roll over inside of you, beginning to wake, soon asking to be satisfied like a dog scratching at the door begging for treats, relentless until it was given its desired reward. It wasn’t long before Undertaker was hooking his grip under your thighs again, pulling you further down the bed where he then knelt at the foot of it.

You gave him an uncertain and slightly suspicious look as he flicked his emerald gaze up to meet yours. Usually, he liked to undress you, strip you down piece by piece before ridding himself of his own clothing, admiring every inch of your bare body like it was the most masterful work of art. Then he’d pin you down, his prized butterfly, and get to work at soaking both your bodies with pleasure before wringing them dry, squeezing you for every last lustful drop he could.

But tonight— on your night— he figured he’d do things a little differently. Give you one last birthday surprise before the clock struck twelve.

“Just relax, sweetheart…” he cooed, carefully bunching your new dress up around your waist, exposing the expensive lace clinging to the most delicate parts of you and drinking in the sight like it rivaled even that of the one just beyond the windows. “Let Daddy make you feel good…”

Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the soft raise of your lower belly, and you felt your tight little hole futter and your sensitive bud pulse as he slowly removed your panties, your already damp core causing them to cling to you a moment before the cool air sighed against your damp slit.

Undertaker ran a long finger through your dewy folds, making your next breath catch as he slipped it inside of you to gather more of your slick before rubbing it against your puffy clit, already swollen with arousal, pulling one of those adorable whines from your throat as you lay one arm over your eyes, the other sprawled out across the bed, little fingers twisting into the sheets, trying to grab hold of anything while you still had the chance.

“That’s it, baby…” he praised, helping to spread you wider for him, a leg thrown over one of his broad shoulders as he continued to tease you. His next words sent a puff of his warm breath against your cunt, and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, exhaling a shuddering sigh. He whispered, “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,” and when he licked a flat-tongued stripe up your pussy, you let out a soft, broken whine, back already beginning to arch a little at the sinfully sweet feel of him.

Undertaker was skilled at a lot of things— running a business, making money, getting away with murder— but the thing you thought he was best at, above all else, was pleasuring you.

It was effortless, the way he knew exactly what to do that made you body bend to his command, melting your mind until all you knew was the press of his hips or the wet warmth of his mouth, the indents of his teeth, his fingerprints, all of it branded into you so no matter where you looked on your own body there would be a reminder of him, like a promise, a gift.

You were clenching the silky sheets in your trembling fist as he speared his tongue into you, his sharp nose nudging against your clit every time and forcing moan after delicious, high-pitched moan out of you like that was the only sound you’d ever known how to make. If he thought your laugh was syrupy sweet, then your moans were something else entirely, something far more addicting or satisfying than sticky, sickly sweet sugar. More like a drug to him, making him addicted in a way that, once he got a taste, he couldn’t stop. Not until you had nothing left to give, his pursuit at seeing just how far or how long he could make you go merciless time and time again.

“P-please—” you sobbed, the new veil of tears that had welled in your eyes causing your lashes to clump and spike together with every fluttering roll of your eyes back into your head. His pace was voracious, wanting to devour you down to your very core. You could barely get half a broken plea out before it was interrupted by a surrendering mewl or a soundless gasp, mouth hung open in ecstasy before he prepared to shatter you. “Please— I’m gonna—”

But before you could even speak the last word of your sentence, let alone remember it, Undertaker had you coming undone, unraveling you like a frayed thread on a silk scarf, pulling you apart until there was nothing left but a tangle of string he could then rearrange into any shape he pleased.

Your chest rose and fell with short, shallow, panting breaths, rigid form relaxing back into the mattress, body gone all pliable and boneless once the remaining tension melted away. Meanwhile, Undertaker pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive insides of your stained thighs, palms gently petting you as you drifted down from the high and back into the garden of Eden he’d planted, nurtured, and grown just for you.

Normally, he’d barely give you enough time to recover before commencing round two, but, as he seemed to be a little more patient with you on this most special of days, he allowed your heart to slow to a steady rhythm and your breathing to smooth out into even inhales and exhales before shifting over you, darting out his tongue to lick at his own lips to catch one last obscene taste of you before wiping away your glistening arousal from the bottom half of his pale face with the back of his hand.

As he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes, the vibrant green of them almost glowing through the dim dark of the bedroom, he said, as if only to himself, “Just look at you… So gorgeous… My beautiful girl…” as he helped free you the rest of the way from your pretty birthday dress, mindfully folding it and placing it on the nearest bedside drawer so it didn’t get ruined.

Because he did intend to ruin you.

He intended to ruin you in all the right ways.

As he shed his own clothing like a black-skinned snake, all those silvery scars wrapped around alabaster flesh now on full display, you reached out for him, wanting, craving, needing to feel the press of his body back on yours before the ebbing pleasure made you drift off to dreamland. Though, with Undertaker, reality could often feel like a dream, so perfect your conscious mind almost struggled to comprehend it was real at times.

But, as he began to lean back over you, your fingers interlocked as he pressed your hands down into the comforter on either side of your head, both your legs thrown over his shoulders to have you splayed wide and vulnerable for him, just the way he liked you, one thing was for certain. Undertaker had been ahead of himself when he’d said he’d have to find a way to outdo your birthday next year. After tonight, you had no idea how things could get any better than this.

***

(Hello and thank you so much to @fanfictionsworld for your request! I hope I did it justice and thank you for being so patient with me while you waited for it. I know you’ve been following me for quite some time and I always recognize you when I see you pop up in my notifs, so it was truly a pleasure getting to write for you <3

Also want to give a big thank you to everyone else for reading as well! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

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angelltheninth · 2 years

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I'd like to request something fluffy!

Angel Dust comes home and sees fat nuggets and S/O cuddling asleep together with S/O wearing angel's fluffy robe. Fat Nuggets even let S/O put some pink jammies on him.

Angel would probably explode because of the pig jammies. I know I would.

Aww imagining that makes me smile so damn much.

Pairing: Angel Dust x Reader

Tags: fluff, literal sleeping together, sleepy kisses, cuddles

A/N: I feel like Fat Nuggets would love cuddles even more than Angel.

Angel likes cuddles with you, especially after a long and tiring day at work or after listening to Charlie trying to talk him into putting more effort all day

But there's also something really special and cute to coming home and seeing you passed out on the couch with Fat Nuggets in your arms

Angel's fluffy robe is wrapped snuggly around you while Fat Nuggets is wearing adorable spotty pink pajamas

He can't help but take a picture

Of course it wakes both you and Fat Nuggets up

"Sorry bout that sugar, I couldn't help myself. You're too cute. Yes, you too Nuggs." Angel leans down to kiss your forehead

You go to stand up but Angel is quick to lift you up in his arms, keeping one on Fat Nuggets and patting him as he carries you both into the bedroom

He slowly put you both down on the bed and goes to take a quick shower and change into a comfortable shirt and shorts to sleep in

When he joins you in bed he keeps Fat Nuggets in the small empty space between you to as he pulls you into a brief, sweet kiss, "Thank you for waiting for me doll."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust #angel dust imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel imagines

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 3 years

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A Christmas Kiss

Summary:

The last thing you expect to do is go to a party with your coworkers on a Saturday night. And the last thing that you expect to happen while you are there is to meet a man like Seungcheol...

5K+ Words

“You look…. Stressed.”

You looked over at your coworker, not bothering to stop your rapid typing as you averted your eyes from your computer screen. You smiled at her, but the smile didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Stressed?” You questioned. “What is there to be stressed about?”

Your eyes darted briefly back to your computer screen to make sure that you were still typing the right things. When you noted you were, you looked back at your coworker.

“It’s just the holidays. I have a huge pressing deadline and my parents call me daily asking me when I’m going to be home to see them,” you replied back pleasantly. Jihyo snorted at your words, a smile crossing over her face.

“You need to relax,” Jihyo said, placing her hand on your shoulder. “Stop working for a moment, and really pay attention to me.”

You rolled your eyes and looked away from her, your gaze falling back on your computer. The action made Jihyo huff, and she reached over, fingers wrapping around your wrists. She pulled your hands up away from the keyboard, ignoring your protests.

“You work too hard, and you need a break,” she stated pointedly. “So, you should come over to my house this weekend for a fun party. We’ll do makeup and dress up really nice and go out and party!”

You huffed in amusement.

“Jihyo do I look like the kind of person who goes out and parties?” You asked her.

“There’s always a time to start.”

Normally you wouldn’t let what Jihyo said really get to you. You weren’t the sort of person that hung out with the people that you worked with. You liked to keep your work life and your home life separate, and in your home life… You didn’t really have many friends.

Okay you didn’t have any friends.

But you were happy like that. No expectations to meet. No one to abandon you in order to “protect you”. No getting hurt by people who claimed they cared about you but now wouldn’t even bother to give you the time of day.

You stopped making friends. You stopped asking people over and you stopped letting people trick you into thinking that they might let you into their lives and care about you in the same way that you cared about them.

So, when you actually showed up at Jihyo’s house with a tray of homemade cookies, even you were a little surprised with yourself.

“I knew you would make it!” Jihyo practically sang.

But then again you supposed that Jihyo was a pretty powerful person who had a way of convincing pretty much anyone to do anything. Especially considering the fact that you had actually shown up.

“Jihyo who else did yo-” You looked up and was surprised to find one of your managers- Sowon, standing in the door. She had her long wavy hair dyed blonde, which wasn’t how it had been at work earlier this week. Her eyelids were brushed with blue sparkly eyeshadow, and her lips were tinted like the pink of a peach. She had glitter across her cheekbones and was wearing a white fluffy bath robe. She looked almost unrecognizable from the way she usually looked.

“Oh,” she continued. “Hi there. I didn’t know you were coming.”

You shrugged and placed your hand on the back of your neck nervously.

“I didn’t really either.” Jihyo excitedly squealed, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“And you aren’t going to regret it either!” Jihyo announced. “We are going to have so much fun tonight! Come see the others!”

Jihyo dragged you past Sowon and into the kitchen where there were four other people. One of the people- Seungkwan was sitting on the counter, his feet swinging back and forth as another person from work- Mingyu stood over the stove. They both looked back at you and as they did- so did another girl from work- a receptionist, Haeun looked up from frosting a plate of cookies.

“Oh, hello!” She greeted pleasantly. You smiled unsurely and nodded quietly at everyone in front of you. You could honestly hear the question in the eyes of everyone there, wondering why Jihyo had invited you and why you had actually showed up.

All of course, fantastic questions.

You didn’t offer up any answers, instead you looked over to Jihyo, rubbing your shoulders awkwardly.

“Maybe… I should go ho-”

“Don’t even start,” Jihyo immediately interrupted. She grabbed your arm and pulled you close to her. “We’re all so excited to see you here!”

She then turned you placing her hands on your cheeks and faced you towards Sowon.

“Do you see that sexy angel over there?” She exclaimed. “See those damn gorgeous legs and that practically unrecognizable face?”

As Jihyo spoke about Sowon, she immediately posed in the doorway, showing off her legs for a moment by kicking up her foot, and pouting her lips. You probably would’ve giggled a little at that had it not been for Jihyo immediately pulling you back to face her.

“We are gonna make you look just as sexy as her and then we are going clubbing and it is going to be so much fun.”

You didn’t really have much of an option on what to say.

“Okay,” you replied.

Jihyo giggled excitedly and jumped to her feet. She rushed over to Seungkwan and grabbed him, dragging him down from the counter.

“Okay guys! Stop pretending like we don’t see one another every day in the office! Let’s get this party going!” She sang.

Jihyo was a very vibrant person. She was easily able to make everyone in the room feel like they had been close friends for ages despite the fact that you didn’t think that you had any conversation with any of them past “good morning” and “see you tomorrow”.

Seungkwan was very charismatic and loud as well and played off of Jihyo’s enthusiasm well.

Despite the fact that when he leaned in close and complimented your pores you felt like you were going to shrink down into a tiny ball and die.

Every now and then Naheun would wander over to look at Seungkwan’s progress and tease him for doing a certain thing with your makeup, but he yelled her off every time until finally he abandoned you completely to do hers, leaving you beneath the touch of Jihyo.

“And…. Done!”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the sarcastic thing that was about to leave your mouth completely dying on your lips.

“Oh… Wow.”

You didn’t think you had ever seen yourself looking more beautiful before in your entire life- and at that, you didn’t think that you had ever looked anything like this in your life either. Your eyeliner was drawn on sharp, making you face look more intense, with heavy sparkly eyeshadow spread of your eyelids.

The bronzer and highlighter that Jihyo had used had genuinely made your face look an entirely different shape and your skin looked perfect.

You leaned in, your fingers lightly touching your cheek.

“H-How did you do this?” You mumbled in awe. Jihyo shrugged and raised her hand with the makeup brush in it in the air.

“The power of the brush baby,” she stated triumphantly. “And now! We get you dressed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed curiously, and you tilted your head to the side.

“I’m already dressed.”

Mingyu snorted from his spot at the stove.

“You aren’t going clubbing in that sweet cheeks.”

You actually turned your eyes to sharply glare at him.

“Shut up Gyu, I look fine.”

“But you could look just as sexy as Sowon,” Jihyo baited playfully. “Come on! We’ve got show off your assets! The boys are gonna love you!”

“Okay, why is Mingyu so good at doing hair?” You asked as you looked at yourself through your phone’s selfie camera for the millionth time.

Jihyo laughed and patted Mingyu’s shoulder pleasantly.

“Probably because he is the best guy any girl could hope to date,” she stated. Mingyu’s cheeks were dusted pink at the compliment, but he didn’t say anything in response.

Everyone in the group was now entirely decked out. Everyone’s hair done like they were straight out of the Nutcracker and their makeup sparkly and bright.

You couldn’t believe how amazing the group of you looked. Even in this tight- practically supermodel dress that Jihyo let you borrow. You looked like a literal bombshell.

And honestly, nothing like yourself.

“Okay, you all ready for this?”

You weren’t. How could you ever be ready for something like this? Partying with a bunch of people that you had never hung out before was overwhelming in itself, and you knew that you would feel even more out of place the moment you walked into the club.

Clubs were loud, and crowded. Everywhere you turned your shoulder bumped right into someone. You started off apologizing to everyone you bumped into, but after only a few moments Mingyu placed his hand on your shoulder and leaned in so close that it sent a shiver through your body:

“No one cares here, stop apologizing.”

You looked over and your expression must have had horror in it, because the resulting reaction from Mingyu was a laugh so hard that his shoulders bounced.

“You’re so cute,” he said pleasantly. “Relax a little bit, we are here to have fun!”

You gave him a shy smile, and nodded, willing yourself to breathe a little more easily.

Jihyo wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t think you would be good company.

As if summoned Jihyo rushed over to you, a large smile over her face as she grabbed your wrist.

“Come on you guys!” She said excitedly. “Let’s enjoy our youth!

Once you got out of your head, you began to have a bit of fun. Jihyo was- as mentioned before- a very charismatic person who was really easy to party with. It wasn’t long before your cares were becoming less of a hindrance and you were out on the dance floor having fun with the rest of your coworkers.

It probably helped that you were dressed so out of your element. It made you feel like you were completely incognito. Someone that no one had ever seen before and would ever see again. So, it was almost okay to act a little bit wild.

But even with the makeup, and the natural charisma of the people around you. The energy in the crowd was a little bit much for you, and after a few hours you reached over to Jihyo, tapping her lightly.

“I’m going to go!” You called to her. She glanced at you, mouth dropping open in disappointment.

“What! No, you-”

Just as she spoke, Mingyu grabbed her shoulder, thrusting his alcohol into her hands. This distracted her entirely from you, and as her back was turned Mingyu began to wildly gesture for you to leave. For a second you were confused by the gestures, but then your eyes widened in realization.

You bowed your gratitude quickly to Mingyu and then rushed out of the room, weaving between the groups of people until finally the sounds of the club were behind you and you could breathe.

“Hey!”

You jumped, a small squeal leaving your lips as you felt a hand slip on your side. The person who had done the offending action placed his hands in the air, offering you a nervous smile.

“Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking first,” the guy apologized softly. “I’m Seungcheol… I… Noticed you leave.”

Noticed you?

God you didn’t think anyone had ever really noticed you before. You had spent years of your life going unnoticed by pretty much everybody. Nobody took the time to get to know you and you understood why- You didn’t exactly make it easy.

“Oh,” you said pointedly. The one-word answer seemed to make the guy before you just the more nervous and you had no idea why.

He was unbelievably attractive. He had the prettiest, curly dark hair and beautiful innocent wide eyes. His lashes were thick and dark and framed his eyes perfectly.

“Uh, sorry if I’m a bit forward,” Seungcheol apologized. “But you’re really beautiful.”

His lips upturned slightly as he spoke, turning your attention to them. As soon as you realized you were staring your eyes darted away and your cheeks turned red.

“I was just -” You pointed wordlessly towards the elevator in front of you, making Seungcheol’s eyes dart up.

“Oh,” he replied. “May I escort you?”

The question threw you off guard so many more reasons than you cared to say. You couldn’t believe for one that a man this gorgeous thought that you were beautiful. But you presumed that maybe that was part of the magic of the makeup.

“Sure,” you murmured. “It’s just… So loud in there.”

Seungcheol beamed at you, an adorable gummy smile spreading over his face as he gestured the same way that you had pointed. Then, after a moment, he started to walk in that direction. For a moment, you stayed still- completely mesmerized at the fact that anyone would want to accompany you anywhere. But once you got a handle on yourself, you jogged for just a moment- your heels clanking against the tile floor as you fell in step with this Seungcheol.

“So... Why did you really leave the party? Couldn’t have just been for me,” you pondered, leaning forward ever so slightly as you did. That made Seungcheol laugh a little.

“Well, believe it or not...” He trailed off and shrugged. “Besides, I’m also not really one for the party scene. So, any excuse to get out is a good one.”

You nodded, satisfied with the answer and turned your attention to the elevator you two were approaching. You leaned forward to click the small dim elevator button, momentarily forgetting that Seungcheol was even there beside you. However, as soon as your fingers brushed the cold metal, they also brushed something warmer...

You jumped back, your fingers digging into the palm of your skin uncertainly shyly. Before either of you could say a word, the elevator door dinged. You cleared your throat.

“Ah- after you,” You said shyly. Seungcheol laughed at the statement.

“Please, how disrespectful do you think I- A stranger, is?” He asked you. Your cheeks darkened even more, and you ducked into the elevator door. Seungcheol joined you as well, and the doors slid closed behind him. You both stood there for a moment, completely silent, eyes trained on completely different sides of the elevator.

“Uh... Should we...?”

Seungcheol jumped a little.

“Oh! Yeah-” He leaned forward and clicked the button to send them to the main floor. For some reason the elevator didn’t move at first. You turned your attention over to him, and he looked back at you with a half shrug. He turned his attention back to the metal plate and clicked the button again. When he did the elevator jolted to life, but instead of going down, the elevator started moving upwards.

Your mouth fell open and so did Seungcheol’s, but he swallowed it down quickly.

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” he said nervously.

And that is when the elevator fell. A small shriek left your lips as it fell, but even as it did the first reaction that Seungcheol had was to reach forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief moment, the fact that the elevator was falling wasn’t an issue for you. Time slowed and you turned to look at Seungcheol his eyes, full of confidence and certainty.

You weren’t the sort of person to make a decision without forethought. But for once in your life, you didn’t care what had happened earlier that night, or what was going to happen later that night. Or what was going to happen in a week because of all this.

All you cared about was Seungcheol’s eyes, and his lips, and you leaned in and kissed him.

You had only kissed a handful of people in your life.

A high school and a college boyfriend, and one other person when you both were drunk at a party. When you had kissed them at the time, you hadn’t had many thoughts running in your head. Stupid things, like does my breath smell and why are my hands so sweaty.

But you weren’t thinking about any of that when you were kissing Seungcheol. Instead, it was just immediate... Like sparks were flying. Your heart was thumping out of control in your chest, and you wrapped your arms tightly around Seungcheol’s shoulders, tugging him close.

Was it possible that this random stranger from a party was possibly your soulmate?

Suddenly the elevator door dinged, and the elevator stopped abruptly. You didn’t stumble in the slightest as you were secured in Seungcheol’s arms, but as soon as the elevator doors began to slide open he loosened his grip.

You looked away and nervously played with your fingers behind your back.

“Uh- Thank you for escorting me out,” you mumbled, and then before Seungcheol could say a word, you raced out of the elevator- nearly tripping over your heels on the way out.

“You kissed someone?” Jihyo blurted. You cut her a look as a number of your coworkers turned to look at you. You both turned and smiled at them all shyly, waving their gazes away. Once every person had turned away from you two, Jihyo turned her attention back to you.

“Look it’s just.... Surprising,” Jihyo murmured softly. “I barely got you to the party.”

“I know, I’m really not the sort of person to just... Kiss a stranger in an elevator,” you said with a shrug. “But-”

“Was he cute?” Jihyo interrupted, turned her chair so that you could face her fully. You rolled your eyes and looked away from her, a blush crossing your cheeks. You were about to try to throw away how attractive he was, but just as you did your gaze rose to someone walking into the office.

At first glance, you didn’t think that you had ever seen him before, but open further inspection...

Your eyes grew wide and you dropped down to the floor without a word of explanation- scrambling under your computer desk. Jihyo’s eyes widened at your sudden action and ducked over to look at you.

“Uh, are you-” “Don’t draw attention to us,” you hissed, waving your hand so that she would look away from you. She still seemed surprised, but the action made her back off. She went back to pretending to work, clearing her throat just loud enough for you to hear.

“Why are you hiding under a desk?”

You reached forward, grabbing your desk chair and pulling it closer to better conceal you.

“Because that’s the guy.” “Oh, is it really?” She asked excitedly. You nodded, only realized your mistake after remembering that you were in fact hiding under a table, but Jihyo didn’t seem to mind.

“He is really cute,” she said with a tiny giggle. Your eyebrows furrowed at that and you tried your best to look up at her... Damn why was it so cramped underneath a table? When suddenly, the chair in front of you moved slightly and you were met face to face with-

“Sengcheol!” You exclaimed in surprise, a nervous smile cutting your lips.

He gave you a slightly confused look, his nose scrunching ever so slightly.

“Why are you... Hiding under your desk?” He asked you, his voice soft. You let out a nervous laugh.

“Uh-”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to explain it. All you knew was that you wanted to shrivel up on the inside, and you wanted to die. You smiled at him.

“Just... Trying to clear my head,” you responded softly. “I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

Seungcheol stared at you for a moment, staying completely silent.

“What...” He trailed off, the only part of him that was moving being his chest. “What’s your name?”

You swallowed hard, but very very slowly told him your name. The response of your name clearly didn’t help him to realize whatever was going through his mind.

“Well,” he said after a long moment. “You can’t do much work under your desk.”

“Right!”

You scrambled past him, nearly bumping hard into him as you did so. Your face flamed, but you ignored it as you planted yourself in your seat, your fingers going right back to work on the keyboard.

“Back to work.”

Seungcheol lingered behind you. You didn’t see it- instead you could feel it, as you typed, trying to only pay attention to the words on your computer screen. Finally, after what felt like ages, you heard the boy's steps moving away from you. Once you couldn’t hear him at all anymore you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Wow,” Jihyo said with a shake of her head. She looked over at you. “He has no clue that it’s you.”

The confirmation of such a thing was equally exciting and devastating at the same time. On one hand you had been hopeful that he would remember you. It felt too cliched for him to be like some sort of Prince Charming. Not recognizing you after the ball and the kiss and not even knowing your name to base his search on.

But you couldn’t help but note that, despite your memories, he didn’t seem like the sort of person to go out partying and kiss strangers. Here at work, he was cleanly groomed- he looked intelligent. You were surprised you had never seen him before.

“Is he-”

“Our new supervisor,” Jihyo provided. “But I didn’t know he would be at the party. That- That was random chance. You must be lucky.”

You didn’t feel lucky, but you didn’t say that as you returned to your work.

During lunch you never ate with the others. It wasn’t that you didn’t like to eat with people- it was just that you felt it more important to get your work done, rather than to sit around during lunch and talk.

People used to think it was odd that you brought small things for lunch- even going as far as to tease yo for being on an idol’s diet. But after a while they stopped bothering you during lunch at all, recognizing that it just wasn’t something that you wanted to talk about.

You expected that day to be the same as every other, but then, before you could really anticipate it, your chair was pulled away from the computer. Your fingers froze in the air over where your keyboard should be shocked that your work had been disturbed. You expected to see Jihyo there- just pushing your boundaries, but your question died on your tongue when you saw who was actually there.

“Oh- Seungcheol,” you exclaimed in surprise. “What are you-”

“Do you eat lunch alone?” He asked before you could finish your own question. You shut your mouth, just staring at him, so he shrugged and pulled a chair up beside you at your desk. “Do you always opt for the options with less people?”

That confused you even more. The way he said it... The way his eyes gleamed when he spoke... It felt like he knew. As he sat there eating lunch with you, he kept making comments.

“I bet you would really shine, if given the chance.”

“You really trip up on your words sometimes.”

Etc, etc. They all felt so... So much like he knew, but he even when you ran into him, and dropped a coffee cup in the break room he didn’t say it even once. The words that you were waiting to hear: “I know it was you that night.”

And yet. They never came.

“Hold the door!”

You jumped in surprise as a hand stuck itself into the closing elevator door, and Seungcheol’s smiling face greeted you. You bowed politely at him, tucking yourself into the corner of the elevator nervously. He cleared his throat and let the elevator door close behind him. He clicked a button on the elevator panel and the elevator whirred to life. You let your fingers wrap around the cold metal handrails, remembering the last time you were in an elevator with this man.

“Deja vu?”

His voiced echoed throughout the whole small elevator, tearing your eyes from the floor and to him. He gave you a sly smile, letting his head fall innocently to the side.

“I mean do you stay at work late often?” He asked with a little laugh. “Someone’s a little jumpy.” “Ah, sorry,” you apologized, brushing your hair back over your face a little. “Uh, I guess I do work late a lot. I like to avoid going out with people after work so-”

“Oh, I see, not really the clubbing type?” There was a tint of disappointment in his tone, but you couldn’t really read much into it. You just nodded.

“Went once recently. Dressed up and everything-”

“Oh!” And there it was, the disappointment gone. “You sound like quite the party girl to me.”

You shot him a weird look, to which he just shrugged innocently.

“Here’s a scenario for you- Let's say this elevator were to break-” You choked on air at his words, pounding your chest lightly with your fist for effect as you did.

The words that Seungcheol were using- His odd mannerisms all day. God, you could almost swear he did recognize you from that night. But if that was so- surely, he would have said something by now.

“What would you do?” He asked. “Scream?” He took a step towards you. “Take hold of the railings?” Another step. “Or something else?”

Your heart was beating fast, a lot like it had been that night in the elevator with him the first time. You sincerely hoped that you two did not make a pattern of meeting in the elevator like this in the future.

“Uh... I wouldn’t know,” you mumbled back, your voice shaking. “I just I would have to be in the situation.”

Seungcheol hummed thoughtfully and turned away from you a moment to slam his hand down on one of the elevators buttons. It caused the elevator to screech to a stop and you to grip at the handrails even tighter.

He turned his attention back at you.

“Then I guess I know what you would do.”

He tentatively held his hand out, seeming unsure if he should just grab you or not. You figured that if he was bold enough to stop the whole elevator then you could do this next part easy enough. You took his wrist and pulled him tight against your chest, raising your lips to his almost naturally. He smiled into the kiss, deepening it to the point where your back was bent backwards in a way that you didn’t even think was possible.

When Seungcheol finally broke for air, his face was red. You imagined yours was too.

“I knew it was you,” he breathed. Your eyebrows rose slightly.

“And you had to kiss me because-” “Because I really wanted to,” Seungcheol said with a nervous laugh. He pulled away from you, a slight shrug directed to you. “We have a spark, you know? Not what it usually feels like to kiss other people. A genuine spark.” You had felt it too, but to hear him say it out loud only made it seem just... That much more real. You had honestly thought maybe it was just the exhilaration of meeting an attractive boy at a party but being this close to him now? Having just kissed him like you had? You knew that these thoughts weren’t nearly as crazy as you had thought before.

“Yeah,” left your lips like a whisper. Seungcheol smiled and rubbed the back of neck.

“Sorry not to say something immediately, but I could tell that you didn’t think I recognized you, and my friends suggested messing with you a bit,” Seungcheol replied with a shrug.

It took you a moment to process the words, but when you did, a scoff left your lips.

“You mean this whole day?” You blurted. Seungcheol laughed and nodded.

“Even-?”

Seungcheol’s laughter pretty much confirmed your question. You sighed indignantly.

“You better turn this elevator back on, I hate you.” Seungcheol wasn’t bother in any way by your words, but he did walk back over to the panel, clicking a button that made it roar back to life.

“You can’t tell me today wasn’t fun,” Seungcheol said pleasantly. You grunted and looked away from him, but as you did Seungcheol reached forward and patted your head lightly. “And most importantly it taught me just how cute you are.” And suddenly you didn’t mind having been teased so much before.

It suddenly occurred to you, that not only did Seungcheol recognize you despite the heavy pounds of makeup that was coated on your face at the time. That would normally leave many men confused, and the fact that Seungcheol had so quickly seen through it was...

Your heart fluttered in your chest.

You couldn’t say it enough, but you liked to think your decisions through. You didn’t tend to just trust your gut and do things spontaneously. The idea of going to a party, meeting a guy and kissing him was crazy. Kissing him a second time on a separate day was absolutely bizarre. And doing what you knew you were going to do next was probably the most insane thing you could ever do.

Normally, you presumed your whole body would be shaking in this situation. You would be nervous and unsure of what to do next. But at the moment your unsureness was gone.

“I know this is really sudden but-” “Yes,” you interrupted, a smile coming across your lips. “Yes, the answer is yes.” “But I didn’t even-”

“The answer is still yes,” you assured. “I’ll go out with you.”

Seungcheol smiled as the elevator door dinged open.

“It’s a Christmas miracle.”

#b: A Christmas Kiss series #Seungcheol Fanfiction #Seungcheol Fanfic #Seventeen Fanfiction #Seventeen Fanfic #Svt Fanfiction #Svt Fanfic #Kpop Fanfiction #Kpop Fanfic #Scoups AU #Scoups Fanfiction #Scoups Fanfic

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thedevildomdaily · 3 years

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Demonic Possessions Ch 6: The Design Diva Strikes Again!

Here's the first of TWO chapters coming to ya on my days off as promised! Thanks for being patient and the well-wishes. I'm recovering pretty well.

Note: Here's the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW (I told you I'd get to it soon lol)

Lilly squirmed around in her bed. Her pink and purple curls were sticking out around her pillow that she used to smother her own face. A hand with beautiful galaxy nails, courtesy of Asmodeus, was planted in the middle of it. She moaned and groaned, not wanting to wake up. That was until she felt movement in her bed!

Her hand clutched the pillow and tossed it quickly from her face in a hurry. She immediately looked down at the foot of her bed. There was a large mass beneath her giant, fluffy comforter. There was something in her bed!

Slowly mustering all of her courage, the human eased the comforter up and open. Her eye were squinting, afraid of what she was about to see at her feet. One eye opened, then the other.

“Hello~” there was a very sensual, yet familiar voice. A set of icy blue, glowing orbs stared at Lilly before she registered the female nephilim peering at her from the darkness beneath the covers.

Yes, it was Lena! A nearly naked Lena at that: she wore a lacy black thong that was completely see-through and an oversized tank top. Because she was on all-fours, the giant opening hung low enough to reveal her full chest. She giggled devilishly and licked her lips, staring at Lilly like a predator.

“L-L-Lena!?! What are you doing!?” Lilly gasped. Her beautiful, tanned skin was now bright red as she looked at the nephilim crawling closer, between her legs.

“You, if you’d let me babe…” she smirked and crawled closer, now close enough to anchor her hands on either side of the human’s hips. She tilted her head to the side, letting her long hair fall to the side, gently touching Lilly’s leg. She awaited her answer, knowing very well how tempting she looked in this precarious position.

Lilly gulped, and parted her lips for a moment, staring at Lena in almost a trance. A nod followed, then a motion for Lena to approach her further. The nephilim crept up and over the petite human and kissed her softly.

“Good choice…” Lena purred. Lilly laughed and pulled her into a deeper kiss. Her lips tasted sweet and her skin was like the finest silk in the three realms. The human wanted to explore every inch of her body.

The nephilim wasted no time to straddle her. Lilly gasped as she watched her remove her top, revealing her beautiful large breasts; They nearly made her cry, “You’re so fucking gorgeous Lena…”

Lena giggled, “Look who’s talking...you’re fucking hot. I’ve lived for thousands of years and never seen such perfect caramel skin and those lovely violet eyes. You’re bewitching Lilly.” She pulled the human into a deeper, more sensual kiss. Her hands wandered to the small of her back, slowly lifting her shirt up and off.

Unable to wait any longer, the mortal reversed their positions, pinning Lena on her back. She was dominant by nature, and while she knew she was no match for a powerful being like the nephilim, she wanted to take control. Lena seemed very welcoming to the idea.

Lilly ran her tongue across Lena’s left nipple as she softly groped the other. Hearing the other woman moan was music to her ears. It’s been so long since she’d shared her bed with anyone; a dry spell since the exchange program began.

Just as she began to inch Lena’s thong down, Lilly began to wonder why she was thinking so intently about things other than this drop-dead gorgeous creature beneath her and what was that sound in the distance…

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS MESS?!!!!”

The human woke to those words. A fucking dream!? NOOOOOOOOO! Pouting, she looked over at her temporary roomy, waking up on her couch; fully clothed and oblivious as to what was going on.

A series of profanities filled the entire House of Lamentation. Lena knew who it was and wanted to jump out of the nearest window and run away.

Mammon gave his one knock warning and popped his head in. “Are ya guys alright? Who was that?” Awe, he came to check on them.

“That was just my darling brother discovering my room you guys are lending me...and the sound of a nephilim experiencing a heart attack I’d imagine…”

*~*~*~

Lena quickly put on a robe and followed a series of ‘motherfuckers’, ‘sons-a-bitches’, and ‘dirty rat bastards’ to the attic. Both Lilly and Mammon accompanied her, despite the many warnings she gave them. “Major Diva warning alert...just saying…”

When they arrived upstairs, the trio found a raving mad Azri, Asmo, and Satan. The demons were standing in the doorway, quietly observing the nephilim as he inspected the room. He was listing every single thing that was wrong with the room.

“Good morning, my darling big brother…” Lena grinned evilly at him. This caused a chain-reaction of giggles.

“There’s not a damn good thing about it!” Azri responded with his hands on his hips, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner that they put you in the filth and squalor like those poor ‘Flowers in the Attic children’?! These are abhorrent living conditions Azralena!”

Lena had to fight hard not to laugh or tell him it was cleaned-up compared to what it was like after Belphegor took his stuff out that first night. He’d scream and faint like a goat if she did. “It’s not that bad bro. If anyone can fix it up, it’s you!”

Azri stopped his pacing and approached his little sister. Everyone held still, afraid of his reaction. He put his hands on her petite shoulders and looked down at Lena with a severe expression, “Lena,” he paused, “I may have to actually pray to celestial realm and every angelic fiber of my body for a fucking miracle to fix this abomination…”

“Is it really so horrible?” A deep voice boomed from behind them. Apparently, Lucifer had joined the fray.

“Oooh, Lucifer’s involved now...this is gonna be good…” Asmo whispered to his brothers and Lilly. There were smiles exchanged, but nobody was brave enough to laugh at this in front of the eldest brother.

“As a matter of fact it is Lucifer,” Azriel responded, “My sister deserves better than this. Are we not guests of Lord Diavolo’s? My sister has told me about ‘how cool Leviathan’s room is with the jellyfish and mega aquarium…” he then looked over at Asmodeus, “and his room is ‘absolutely beautiful’ she says. And it has a giant bathroom that looks like Regina George’s...and you give a dust-filled, cobwebbed attic with loose boards and….ARE THOSE EYES!!!!!?”

Azriel pointed to a whole in the wall on the north side. “This is unacceptable! As the eldest brother you must take responsibility to make sure my sister is staying in comfortable living quarters during her stay!”

Lena just tried to hide her face out of embarrassment. Why was he such a diva? She of course appreciated him looking after her like this, but sometimes he was just too much. This was definitely one of those cases.

“And what do you propose I do about it? My brothers each fixed their rooms on their own. This IS the House of Lamentation, not a human world resort.” Lucifer responded dryly. He did have a point there. One that only irritated the eldest nephilim. Lena felt the need to intervene before things got ugly.

“Hey guys, let’s just take a chill pill for a moment…” she said, holding her hands up as if to surrender to this mess.

‘Chill...pill…?” Lucifer looked at the female nephilim with a weary and perplexed expression.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s a metaphor…” Lena chuckled, “Look, I never meant things to get out of hand and Azri...you shouldn’t barge into someone’s home and go off like this...apologize. Now.”

After looking down at his short, little sister, Azriel sighed, “Sorry. Lena is right. I tend to...overreact when it comes to my siblings. I am in charge of the both of them.”

“I...can understand that.” Lucifer was willing to meet him halfway. From one eldest sibling to another.

“And Luci...fer” Lena almost tried a nickname but was not brave enough to go there yet. “Uhm, please allow my brother to remodel this room. I promise he is a professional in interior design as well as fashion. He will make structural repairs that could save future incidents. It’d give him peace of mind, I’ll be cozy, and you get a new roof out of it...for free.”

Lucifer eyed her, then her brother. They were both strangers, but if he was a professional, the demon believed he could be trusted enough for the task. “Very well. The two of you can do what you see fit in this room..and the roof if necessary. You’re not to do anything with any other room without my immediate permission alone. And, of course, you’re responsible for the remodeling costs. My brothers paid for the own rooms to be remodeled into what they are now. Even Mammon.”

All eyes shot to the Avatar of Greed and he felt it immediately, “HEY! What y’all look’n at! Of course I paid for my room to look as amazing as me, The Great Mammon!”

“He says that like we could actually believe him…” Satan muttered and the others agreed with him.

“Bet it was paid for from stolen belonging or money laundering schemes…” Lilly added.

“Most definitely.” Amso agreed.

“STOP TALK’N AS IF I’M NOT HERE!!!” Mammon yelled.

Lucifer cut his conversation with Lena and Azriel short to deal with his siblings. “MAMMOOON! Quit yelling so loudly. Get downstairs and eat breakfast. Now!”

The group, sans Azriel, did head down to eat breakfast. Those missing at the scene were filled in about the construction that was going to be done to Lena’s room by her brothers. Azriel was the design genius, but it was Zak that was the brawn behind the project. He was just more sensible and refused to show up so early in the morning.

~*~*~*~

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. In just a couple of days, the nephilim had adjusted nicely into their classes. Belmont Academy had a similar curriculum blended with human education as well. It was “hybrid education for hybrid youth” as Lena explained it. She talked Lilly into checking into it once she returned to the human realm after the exchange program.

At lunchtime, the group joined together and talked about the events that started their morning. Asmo and Mammon dramatically told everyone what happened, getting everyone laughing about it. Well everyone but the two nephilim.

“Why the fuck didn’t you stop him from showing up so early?” Lena asked Zak, pointing her fork at him.

“I told him not to. He lied, saying he wouldn’t, and took off when I hopped in the shower. For being the supposed ‘responsible one’, he’s horrible when it comes to using his design skills or cleanliness…”

Lena sighed and nodded, “The. worst.”

“You do have to hand it to him though,” Asmodeus chimed in, “Azri did stand toe-to-toe with Lucifer without batting a silvery eyelash. That’s crazy! And Lena! You got between them quickly to intervene and stopped them from bickering!”

“Well of course. The root cause is ultimately my fault. So I took responsibility for it. Besides, it was pretty stupid to begin with. Arguing over interior designing an attic. Really?” Lena laughed.

“OOOOH I GOT IT!,” An otherwise quiet Leviathan exclaimed, “Your superpower is the ability to calm even the most powerful foes, like Lucifer, down!?!”

Lena paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, her brother joining in. Even Solomon couldn't help but chuckle at the notion. “THAT’S HILARIOUS!!!” She began to choke and punched her chest to stop it. “That’d be great. And it would have probably stopped many of earth’s wars. But nope. That’s definitely not it Levi-kun!”

Her response embarrassed the third eldest demon brother. That was, until she called him Levi-kun; It brought up a whole different reason to be embarrassed.

~*~*~

The rest of the school day passed in the blink of an eye. The RAD students disbursed, with the Purgatory students wishing everyone good luck with the remodelling go on. It was code for ‘good luck not getting into another fight over it’.

On the way home, they decided to grab Hell’s Kitchen burgers to go. Of course Beel wanted to eat a dozen there first, so they divided between those playing arcade games, those ordering the food, and Belphie watching Beel eat and hopefully not go on a rampage.

“Yes! I got it!” Lena screamed. She was at the claw machine with Lilly and Leviathan.

“That’s amazing!” Lilly cheered.

Leviathan gave his signature scream of excitement and proceeded to tell the girls what character it was, and their backstory, and everything in between.

“So what I’m hearing is…this is a valuable part of a set...and that you’re collecting that set aren’t ya?” Lena asked.

“Yeah. I’m missing her and two others.” Levi admitted.

Lena grinned and handed it over to the demon. “Then you’ll get more value out of having this than I will. So you’d better take it then.”

“R-Really?” Levi asked, shocked that she would just give the figurine to him.

“Yes, really!” Lena chuckled, “I just wanted the thrill of winning. You can have the figure. I don’t know what I’m gonna have room for when Azri’s done and that clothing haul is moved in from Lilly’s room.”

“ARIGATO!!!!” Levi cheerfully thanked the nephilim and held up the figurine into the air to admire it.

Lilly lingered back, watching the two nerd-out, sighing inwardly. It was clear that Lena was getting a little attached to Leviathan. He wasn’t catching on, and it made it more adorable...and sickeningly sweet to her. Oh well, she’d have to rely on her dreams still, until she could find a hot demoness that was interested in her and not devouring her soul.

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

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worth the risk, fred x reader

request: from nonnie: hi! could u do a fred weasley x reader where they play in the snow and just have a fun time?

A/N: hi darling! sorry this request is coming at you so late—due to my unscheduled hiatus lol, hope you love fluffy chaotic freddie, also def made this a little more romantic in sorts i hope that’s okay!! I LOVE NERVOUS FRED

He was so incredibly persistent. It was outrageous.

It helped that he was cute.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

He was taken aback by your statement and stopped for a moment, as you continued to dust the books in the library without even looking at him.

Detention. His fault. You were just caught in the middle.

You’d never once received detention. Not once! And now, in your final year, here you were.

Fred had been setting off some type of miniature fireworks in the middle of an empty classroom you’d been studying in, doing so to try and... impress you? Make you ask questions? Fall into his arms in pure infatuation? You didn’t bloody know what. Snape had a field day with it and sent you two straight away.

And Fred sincerely thought that detention would be an appropriate place to ask you out.

You would’ve been on cloud nine had you not been so sincerely pissed off at him for landing you in this very situation.

He laughed sarcastically. “S-seriously? That’s all you have to say?”

You barely nodded. You continued on your work, making sure Madam Pince didn’t hear a peep from either of you.

Fred cleared his throat and smirked. “You haven’t given me an answer to my question,”

You’d finished quickly, but Fred—too busy trying to win you over—still had many shelves to finish. You picked up your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You glanced at him before turning around and exiting the library, “And you’re not going to get one.”

But Fred Weasley did not give up that easily.

“I’ll get one!” He called out after you, and Madam Pince shushed him angrily.

You smiled to yourself the entire way back to your dormitory.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he just happened to get you rather angry, since the detention was really his fault, anyway. You did like him, of course, as did everyone—both him and his twin. Actually... you were sort of head over heels for him, and you always had been. But he’d never felt that way before. The reality of him finally, finally asking you on a date was beginning to hit you as you entered your common room—but you didn’t need anything distracting you from your final year. You had all of your big exams coming up and the last thing you needed was to be focused on a redhead and not on your work in front of you.

It would just be easier that way.

You weren’t sure when his feelings had changed. You’d been friends since your second year and you’d kept you feelings relatively hidden. But somewhere along the line, things had changed...and he was determined to get you into his arms.

A few days later in Transfiguration, you were carefully listening to McGonagall and taking vigorous notes, when you felt, suddenly, like you had eyes on you. You turned to your right, only to see Fred across the room, leaning on his hand, watching you as if he was in a sort of trance. Delirious. Next to him, George was taking notes and doing his best to stifle laughter.

You glanced at him quizzically, and bit back a smile.

I don’t even care, he mouthed to you.

“Mr. Weasley,” you heard McGonagall’s cool voice waft across the classroom. You turned back towards her, swallowed over a lump in your throat, and prayed to any higher powers above that your cheeks weren’t burning bright red.

“Yes?” he asked, slightly embarrassed.

“May I ask you what is so important that you are ignoring my lecture entirely?”

You squeezed your eyes and waited with baited breath for what he’d say next.

“Just the most beautiful girl in the world, Professor.”

While laughter echoed throughout the classroom and McGonagall told everyone to settle down, Fred sent you a wink across the way and you felt your insides go warm as you just shook your head at him admiringly—but you were also the tiniest bit embarrassed. When you turned your attention back towards the front of the class, you could have sworn that McGonagall glanced directly at you and grinned teasingly before continuing on.

When you headed directly towards the library after class, Fred excused himself from his friends and ran down the corridor to catch up with you. “Y/N!” He nearly tripped over his robes, and when he finally reached you, he ran a hand through his red hair and placed his bag against the wall.

“Come on,” he said, stopping you in your tracks. “One date. Give me one date.”

You bit your lip and thought for a moment. Then you said, “Fred—I told myself no distractions.”

“I won’t be,” he said, but his smirk said otherwise. You both knew he absolutely would be. “Look, I dunno about you, but this—” he gestured towards his heart, “this doesn’t happen to me often. I don’t think we should be running away from it, do you?”

“But Fred—” but he knew your whole ‘distractions’ excuse wasn’t a truthful one. It was a complete and utter lie. You could bypass studying altogether and pass your exams with flying colors. You knew it, and so did he. He knew you didn’t want to put the friendship at risk.

He took your hands in his. “I think it’s worth a little risk, don’t you reckon?”

You hadn’t realized you weren’t breathing until you choked on the words trying to escape your mouth, but nothing came out except a stifled cough. You put your arms up in the air, as if surrendering, but then backed away slowly from him. You held tightly onto your bag and bit your lip, but before turning around completely, you smiled at him softly.

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it!” He called after you. When you turned around and saw him at the end of the corridor, he was grinning from ear to ear. Ugh. So bloody charming.

That night, you didn’t sleep much. Maybe four hours at the most. You tossed and turned all evening. You went down to your common room, thinking maybe one of the arm chairs would be more comfortable, but it wasn’t. You paced back and forth, had a bit of tea, paced more and more. You fell asleep uncomfortably for about twenty minutes or so on one of the couches before making yourself another cup, and pulled gently at your hair and fought back and forth with your head and with your heart.

You’d nursed your crush on him for years. So why, now, when he was basically professing his love to you, were you holding back? You supposed, when you looked back on things, it was because you never really expected him to feel the same and you’d accepted that—so you’d settled comfortably into a budding friendship you knew would be enough for you.

But now?

Things were changing.

When you finally went back up to your four poster, you could see the sun beginning to poke out of the clouds. Your heart was thundering in your chest, and you knew that across the castle somewhere, Fred Weasley was still sound asleep.

Sometime a little while later, you sauntered into the Great Hall, spotting his bright red hair immediately. You gulped and ran your hands over your blouse and jeans. And then, you marched right up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He must’ve been taken aback, because he nearly choked on his cereal and quickly ran his hands through his red hair, which was very askew and... sort of cute. He stood up and nearly tripped over his shoelaces. George and Lee held back laughter and Fred just peered at you with admiration. “Hey,”

“Hi,” you replied, swallowing again over the lump in your throat. You only just noticed the amount of people surrounding you all—maybe this was a bad idea. “So, um—I thought about it, a lot, truthfully, and... I suppose you’re right—it worth being a little bit of a risk, I mean, so... okay.”

He’d always been notorious for teasing people. “Okay...” he replied, waiting for you. He was going to make you say it. Of course he was. He flashed you a toothy smile that sent you into overdrive.

“Okay,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush pink. “One date.”

Fred shook his head and smiled at you. “Alright then—one date.”

You looked around at the faces staring at you. “Yep—okay, um... bye.”

You shuffled quickly on your feet to get away from the eyes following you out of the Great Hall. When you exited, you could swear you heard slight cheering and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

It seemed to become a pattern, the laughing.

Much different from your day in detention.

Fred always had you laughing.

In the Three Broomsticks, when he purposefully guzzled his Butterbeer in a silly sort of way, leaving himself with a foam mustache, you couldn’t help but giggle. When he jumped out from behind some of the shelves in Zonko’s and scared the wits out of you, you fell into a fit of nervous laughter, swatting him with your coat sleeve. And when he threw a snowball at you, starting a war, you laughed like a little schoolgirl as you chased him throughout Hogsmeade, doing your best to get him back.

You were getting to know Fred in a different way—of course, you already knew him, you’d been friends for years, but this was... new. And exciting. And dangerous. And absolutely deliriously wonderful.

In the middle of a snowy field, he wrapped his arms around you and you both fell into a snow bank, the white fluff dancing around you as your bodies fell into it, snowflakes perching themselves on your eyelashes and ends of your hair.

“Reckon I won that one,” you said, closing your eyes and resting in the snow.

Fred laid beside you, moving his arms and legs as if to create some type of snow angel. “I’ll give it to you, but only because you’re cute.”

You turned towards him and glanced admiringly at him.

You loved the way his red hair stuck out of the front of his hat.

After what seemed like hours, he stood up and pulled you to your feet. You brushed the snow off of your coat and pants and pulled your hat tighter over your head. Fred nervously placed his hand around the back of your neck and gently ran his thumb over your cheek. He was inches from you now. He looked different across from you—nervous... shy, almost. “Was it worth the risk?” he asked you, almost in a whisper.

You grabbed onto the front of his jacket and pulled him closer to you, standing on your tippy toes and pressing your lips gently to his. Fireworks... but not the kind to land you in detention. When you pulled away, he kept his eyes shut for a moment before peering at you and smiling nervously.

“Yeah,” you replied, running your fingers across his jaw line. “Definitely worth it.”

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @perksofbeingawf @cottageoflove | let me know if you’d like to be added!

reblogs + feedback are always appreciated, thanks loves :)

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagine #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley twins imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #i just love nervous chaotic fred ok

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lady-moonbroch · 4 years

Note

Hello! Love your headcanons! Was wondering if you would be cool with doing a nsfw Ikémen vampire HC of the suitors with a shorter, fuller figured MC, with a little more detail on Theo? If it’s too much to ask, feel free to skip. Thanks!

Hello dear Anon and thank you for the BEAUTIFUL request! I’m deeply sorry I kept you waiting for so long, still I hope you enjoy this! I began to write more details about Theo but ended up getting carried away with all the suitors instead (leading to it becoming quiet long and me becoming tired along the way) but I hope it satisfies everybody! Also I promise I’ll get into more fluffy and maybe angsty stuff before I get my hands on smut again, honestly I need a break 🤣unless…This HC is NSFW so it goes under the cut! Thank you for reading!

Napoleon: he teased her relentlessly, taking pleasure in the pouts she’d sent his way with her soft cheeks dusted pink. He would smile fondly at her just then and walk over to kiss her and remind her how gorgeous she is, hands snaking down beneath her skirt to grasp a hint of her warmth and feel how delightfully she’d shiver under the pad of his fingertips. When she moaned against his lips, calling for him, he’d whisk her away and hide in the pantry, making quick work of her clothes to rain kisses on her breasts and work his way down to her core. Her pleasure always came first for him. He’d keep her standing with his arms locked on her thighs as his tongue would pleasure her core, chuckling at her desperate attempts to muffle her whimpers. And then his name would tumble like a droplet from her puffy lips and dripping straight inside his core, tearing his self-control to shreds. He’d ravish her and leave her breathless, leaving promises on her skin in form of small red marks on her bosom, destined to fulfil them at night.

Mozart: despite the look of disapproval and his aloof demeanour he was quickly taken by her. He’d be frustrated by the depths his lust and yearning to discover every nook and cranny of her voluptuous body and make her sing for him alone teared his attention from his music. And one day she found enough courage to ask him to play even for a fraction of a minute something for her. He huffed with disdain, yet still obliged her. His fingers glided skilfully on the keys of the piano, inspiration flowing like a river from his body due to her smiling countenance observing him closely. He looked up to find her eyes sparkling like twinkling stars, her lips partially open with awe and in that moment any ounce of self-control he held just snapped. He abandoned the piano and stormed off to her, her surprised eyes locked with his violet ones that burned with desire and ardor. Her surprised yelp was swallowed by his hungry lips as he kissed her both hard and gently his hands made quick work of her clothes. He broke the kiss to marvel at soft figure before devoting himself to pleasure his angel of music, his urge to have her all to himself growing at her every plea and moan.

Leonardo: born and raised in the Renaissance, Leonardo finds her absolutely stunning. He would secretly draw her as she would do her chores, mapping the details of her countenance and her figure eagerly. One day she mustered up the courage to ask him about it and in turn he decided to tease her by suggesting to pose for him for a nude portrait. To his surprise she took up the challenge with fierce determination. His eyes lit up with a dangerous light as she let her silky robe pool at her ankles. He began to draw her but the sketch was to remain rough and unpolished. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, his skilful hands desperate to feel the plush flesh of her thighs and bosom, her gracious beauty hidden discourteously beneath the silky fabric now laying bare for him to admire and savour. She surrendered to his tender touch that soon left her whimpering and shaking like a leaf, his sonorous, mellow voice whispering dirty words right in her ear made her core clench in desperation. He gave in to her pleas and pushed two digits inside her core, pleasuring her as he noted her expressions as her climax washed over her body like rain, her voice strained as she called his name over and over as he prolonged her high.

Vincent: he was taken by how sweet and gentle she was from the moment he saw her. His mind became more and more occupied by her as the days passed by and he found himself painting her as she did her everyday chores. Alas, the urge to discover more didn’t cease from growing, leaving Vincent dumbfounded by what this desire inside his chest meant. And then it happened: he met her by accident in the thermae one night, apologising profoundly for disrupting her bath and her personal space as well for his own nudity. He lost control of his eyes as they returned to her curvaceous figure, sparkling droplets running down her velvet skin, her plush bosom heaving heavily and her eyes looking back at him with a hint of excitement and eagerness. He obeyed to his desire and approached her naked figure slowly, eyes misted over with lust as he captured her lips in a feverish kiss, their hands travelling up and down each other’s bodies, tracing every curve and line, relishing at the feeling of naked flesh coming to contact with another. Moans and mewls soon filled the air around them as he plunged two digits inside her core, the image of her face twisting with pleasure etching itself in his mind.

Theo: he couldn’t take her off his mind the moment he laid eyes on her. Her soft, gentle features, the way her bosom heaved steadily up and down, the way she pouted so sweetly when he would tease her for being so short she needs help to reach things. Theo’s trained eyes mapped every little detail as if he stared into the most beautiful painting he’s ever seen, hungry to capture in his mind’s eye every little moment of her. And when he first slipped her out of her nightgown he left a trembling breath escape him. His fingers glided over her soft skin, eyes magnetised as they drank at the sight of her flushing pink and goosebumps that he coaxed as he lavished her with kisses and caresses all over. He easily lifted her in his arms, a low chuckle playing at his throat at the sound of her yelp when he squeezed her perfect, round rear. He loves giving attention to her breasts, kneading and nibbling sometimes roughly, sometimes softly, leaving small marks on her sensitive skin to remind her he belongs to her. After making love to her he would softly whisper in her ear how he cherished her, how beautiful she was when she smiled and when she cried out his name, how much he means to her as his hands would glide over her curves achingly slow, their warmth mingling and merging into one.

Arthur: he wasn’t shy to complement her feminine figure from the moment he saw her and the blush he elicited from her made her a sight for sore all the more. He showers her in compliments each time she drops by his room to bring him coffee and fudge as he writes, enjoying even the smallest reaction he can draw from her and especially when she’d grace him with one of her soft smiles. One day, though, she came to serve him his coffee and her usual demeanour was different, she looked gloomy and disheartened and didn’t reply to his compliments with a smile but by simply brushing it off for “surely the women who keep him company deserve his compliment more than she does”. Before she could leave his room, he slithered his hand around her waist and turned her around to face him.

He cupped her cheek and kisses her soft and gently, until her knees became weak and soft moans tumbled from the edge of her lips. He hoisted her in his arms and lead her to his bed, kissing his way down her body without bothering to mask his delighted humming as he indulged himself touching and kissing every part of her, praising her beauty with the most beautiful words. But nothing compares to her and he promised her to make her understand how ravishing and lovely she really is, his ravenous blue eyes and curious hands eager to explore her luscious physique.

Dazai: from the beginning curiosity about this beautiful stranger overwhelmed him. She was so deferent from the woman of his homeland, the combination of a fuller figure and a short poise made her both adorable and undeniably desirable in his eyes.

His coin-coloured eyes would often sneak glances at her as she went about her day, his breathe catching at his throat when she fixed her hair up in a ponytail or when she bent ever so slightly to reach something from the lower shelves. His steps lead him behind her, his breath playing at his throat as he leaned next to her ear to warn her about the men that surround her, yet the man that feared the most was himself. She always admired his kimono and asked him if he could be so kind as to teach her a thing or two, about the cultural of his homeland. He invited her in his room and gave her one of his kimonos to try, teaching her how to tie the obi so she could do it herself.

When she called him to turn around and see if she did well he stuttered: the luscious fabric encased her curvy figure so beautifully, leading him to fantasise what was veiled beneath. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she undid the loose obi, revealing what his mind was hungry to behold, his own gaze misted over with lust and need as he reached for her naked form. He kissed her breathless and caresses every inch of her before she paid her in kind for her teasing, winding red threads around her plush body and keeping her captured in his room at the mercy of his prurience.

Isaac: he would always get flustered and clumsy with both his actions and his words around her and his pride wouldn’t allow him to admit he was attracted to her so much. And to make matters worse she found him absolutely adorable when he acted so strangely in her presence. Have she figured him out or…or maybe his feelings were not reciprocated. He dreaded the thought, but seeing her interact just as sweetly with the rest of the residents grounded any hope that dared him to fly.

One night he stayed up until late in the garden, observing the stars and taking notes when he heard hesitant footsteps approach him. He looked up from his notebook to find her smiling sweetly at him, wearing only her night gown and a concerned look on her face. She hesitated again, but managed to ask him to teach her a thing or two about astrology. His mind stopped working for a moment, his bloodlust and desire boiling inside his veins, still he accepted. She listened to him carefully, obey to his every instruction like a good student and praised him for his deep and thorough knowledge.

As she turned to face him their lips brushed softly and the sensation of her pillowy lips teared at the last shred of discipline that held him back. He lifted her by her hips placing her on the table that kept his notebook and began to kiss feverishly, unable to hold back his desire to have her. Their moans mingle as he glided his palms over her warm, smooth skin, tracing the curve of her rear and waist, coming up to massage both her breasts gently and ever so lightly tease her hardened peaks. He lost himself in the trace she induced him in, their barely muffed cries of pleasure echoing lightly in the quiet garden.

Jean: her open and unguarded innocence took him by surprise from the very first time they met and it slowly led her to his heart. Her kindness fell like a gentle cascade upon him and every smile she bestowed him felt like a blessing. He’d often catch her sneaking glances as he and Napoleon trained at the fencing court, her eyes glistening with admiration and enthusiasm that elicited Napoleon’s relentless teasing.

After being caught red handed more than twice Jean finally approached her, suggesting he teaches her how to wield a blade and she was more than eager to accept his kind offer. He stood right behind her, her perfectly round rear pushing against his pelvis deliciously, distracting him before the lesson even began. He cleared his throat and reached for her small hands, encasing them between his larger ones to guide her movements. After mishearing one of his instruction, she turned to look at him above her shoulder, resulting in their noses brushing lightly against each other and their fast-accelerating breaths melting into one.

Jean didn’t will himself to move, too entranced in the way her eyes reflected his own passionate gaze back at him, until she broke the stillness with a kiss. Her fingers took their time to unbutton his shirt and cloak, pushing it with ease off his shoulders to reveal his sturdy. She took his hands and guided them over the curve of her hips, over the dip of her waist and up to cup her breasts. Her eyes glazed over with desire held him under her spell as she lavished his alabaster skin with small pecks down the length of his abdomen, turning her focus to his prominent erection.

Comte: he was draw to her before she even set foot in the mansion and maybe it was fate that brought her to him, thus he didn’t hesitate to seize the chance to make her his. Her company is always a delight, of course, but all the years of loneliness he bears on his shoulders lead his mind to inappropriate thoughts.

Since he is the reason that she found herself in the 19th century the Count is making sure she has everything she needs and more. He will buy her clothes that fit her like a glove and showcases her feminine figure and the same rule applies to her undergarments. Intricate corsets, laced, with ribbons and black garters encasing the soft skin of her thigh and jewels that hang just above her bosom.

A glimpse will have the Count down on his knees, willing to do anything and everything to please his chérie. He will begin to slowly kiss his way up from her toes towards her inner thigh, leaving featherlight teasing kisses on her sensitive core, nibbling on the smooth skin of her tummy and smiling fondly at the giggles he elicits from her. He will give extra attention to her luscious bosom, enjoying the vibration of her steadfast heart beating underneath. He leaves small traces of love-bites on her neck all while whispering how gorgeous and beautiful she is and how much she means to him.

Sebastian: he honestly both relieved and delighted to have an assistant to aid him in the daily chores the mansion. But like Dazai, he was used to women more petite and smaller figured and his curious eyes would often steal glances her way during the day. His mind was kept busy by her smiling countenance and an urge to pay closer attention to each movement became as important as collecting information for his diary.

He’d carefully observe the way her curvaceous hips swayed enticingly left and right as she walk past him in the hallway, how absolutely adorable she was when she pouted and cursed her short poise when she’d have a hard reaching the higher selves and how a discreet hint of blush would rise to grace her cheeks when he helped her. His fascination with his co-worker grew at every mere touch they’d share as they’d work, his gloved fingers brushed over her cheek to tuck an unruly strand of her silken hair behind her ear, how his lap brushed against her rear as he stood behind her as he picked the book she wanted from the library. There was a flame blazing in her bright irises, much alike to the blazing urge that scorching him from within but alas, he was too afraid to cross that line.

One day, she offered to help him with the dishes and the butler’s stoic expression shuttered momentarily as the bare flesh of his hand came into contact with hers. A lingering, warm touch and a coquettish smile: that’s all he needed to feel the coil inside him snap. He grasped her wrist and pulled her towards him, crashing his lips against hers with ardour and need as his other opened a few of her blouse’s buttons. He lifted her up with ease and placed her on the sink, without giving a damn about their clothes getting wet and without considering the repercussions if someone caught the in act. He delved into her luscious décolletage with the urgency of a starving man, relishing in the sound of her muffled whimpers and the call of his name as his tongue rolled aching slow around her hardened peaks.

Shakespear: words flowed freely from his lips, praising the fair maid before him. His mismatched eyes beheld her beautiful figure with delight as his lips curving into a satisfied grin as a shade of red dusted her cheeks. His mind disobeyed when he tried to concentrate on his work, his mind’s eye would burn the image of her tantalising curves every time he closed his eyes. His invitation for a tea party just the two of them was me with an enthusiastic affirmation.

She wore a beautiful, simple dress and her hair fell over her shoulders in loose curls, tempting him to feel their softness on the pads of his fingers. He was making tea for them as she stood up from the couch and skipped playfully towards his desk, turning around to smile coyly at him as she asked for his permission to read his work. He nodded with delight and watched from the corner of his eyes as her gaze lit up with interest as she engaged her attention in reading his latest work.

Entranced, he walked almost soundlessly behind her and encased her smaller hands inside his own, inhaling deeply to fill his lungs with her scent. She let out a surprised yelp, that melted into a breathy mewl as his lips pressed softly upon her bare nape. He chuckled quietly as he brought his lips right next to her ear: “Flesh stays no further in reason, but rising at thy name”*.

The voice that vibrated through his chest was like the growl of a wild animal, ready to devour the innocent sweet faun that fell into his trap. Her breath left her lips in a quiver of pleasure as she gave in to his touch, melting inside his embrace as he kissed her with blazing desire.Suddenly something cold and heavy circled her wrists and the soft sound of shackles locking close rang in her ear like wind-chimes disturbed by the wind. She looked up at him expectedly, the bard answering with a mystic smile of his own as he slowly undid the laces of her dress._____________

Banners by Angelichellraiser*from Sonnet 151 (yes, he’s implying his erection, Shakes is naughty y’all)

#anonymous #request #my writing #ikemen vampire #ikevamp headcanons #smut #ikevam isaac #ikevam dazai #ikevam napoleon #ikevam mozart #ikevam shakespeare #ikevam vincent #ikevam comte #ikevam theo #ikevam arthur #ikevam jean #ikevam leonardo #ikevam sebastian

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a-splash-of-stucky · 6 years

Text

By Morning Light | iii

Pairings: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Summary: The boys try to surprise you. Things…don’t work out as planned.

Warnings: Fluffiness and implied sex. (Brief) mentions of throwing up.

Notes: YESSS! We’re finally getting an update on this fic! *does happy dance*

I’m sorry it’s been so long, y’all. Life has been busy, my inspiration dried up, and I kinda wasn’t loving this particular series so…I left it alone, for a bit. Still probably not gonna update it very regularly, but I will finish it. Anyway, I hope you like the floof :)

Title is from ‘Still Falling For You’ by Ellie Goulding

[BML Masterlist]

~ this love is like sun on the rise ~

Waking up is a hit-or-miss type of experience.

Sometimes, it’s a cruel and unforgiving yank into reality, a harsh slap to the face delivered by the persistent blaring of Steve’s alarm clock. Until you’ve got some food in your system and downed no less than a gallon of coffee, all you are is a crusty-eyed and enormously cranky shell of a human being.

Other times, waking up can be a little less harsh of an experience (though, no less reluctant, on your part). These mornings consist of you burrowing deep into the covers, whilst someone — usually Bucky — pokes and prods and gently cajoles you into getting out of bed. His strategy often involves bribing you with the promise of — yep, that’s right: coffee.

Today is unlike either of those days.

Today is a slow and gentle return to consciousness, pieces of the world sliding into focus, one after the other. You’re not exactly sure what pulls you from your sleep, but you gradually become aware of the textures and temperatures and sounds around you.

First, it’s the feel of your pillow beneath your cheek, the brushed cotton pillowcase a soft and silky-smooth texture on your skin. Next, it’s the weight of your duvet above you, the marshmallow-like mountain protecting you from the chill of the cold winter morning. Other elements of the world slowly trickle into focus, from the general creaking and whirring of your house, to the distant noises of the city waking up.

A loud crash destroys all semblance of peace you’d been enjoying.

“Wha’ th’ hell?” you mumble, your words muffled due to the fact that your face is buried in your pillow.

It is at this point that you realise that the bed on either side of you is empty. Your legs aren’t tangled up with Bucky’s, nor is Steve’s arm slung over your waist. The sound of your boyfriends’ steady breathing is also, distinctly missing.

You are immediately suspicious.

Or, well. As suspicious as you can be, this early in the morning.

Which is to say, not that suspicious at all.

With a grumble, you push yourself up onto your elbows and squint at the digital clock on the nightstand. It takes a while for you to make out the numbers through your sleepy, bleary eyes, but when they do finally come into focus, your confusion immediately deepens.

It’s barely ten minutes past six in the morning. The sun’s not even out, for fuck’s sake. Why on earth are they up at ass-crack o’clock?

You flop your head back down onto your pillow with a soft oomph. As you tug the duvet around your shoulders, you grumble incoherently, cursing your boyfriends under your breath.

It’s a bloody Saturday, for goodness’ sake. Saturdays are for sleeping in, and you damn well need this lie-in after the hectic week of meetings and unexpected deadlines you’ve just had.

But, even as you close your eyes and will your body to slip back into a state of unconsciousness, you already know that it’s a lost cause. Your mind is too active now, the gears and cogs of your brain whirring to life, preparing to start your day.

As you lie there in a state of half-sleep, you wandering mind begins to think about what that crash could have been. It’s definitely the boys doing something downstairs — the question is, what?

You quickly dismiss the idea of them fighting an intruder or something in your house, largely because you know that the security system installed in your place would put the White House to shame.

Thus, Steve and Bucky must be doing…something else downstairs. Something that does not involve fighting bad guys, but does involve loud crashing noises.

Steve and Bucky waking up early can either be a really good thing, or a really bad thing, you muse. They’re both equal parts angel and troublemaker, but this early in the morning, it’s too hard to tell which side of their personality is coming through.

The boys waking up early is, in itself, not unusual. Steve has a penchant for going out on runs just before sunrise, because he likes how peaceful the streets are at that time. And, if Bucky’s had a bad night, he’ll often sit on the sofa to watch the sunrise, or maybe go out on a walk to clear his mind.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” you gasp, jerking out of your half-asleep state when another loud crash rings through the house. It’s followed by a string of colourful swear words and an especially loud shhh!

Yep. It’s time to investigate.

You groan, rolling onto your back and stretching your arms out to the side, yawning wide as you feel your joints pop. A smile crosses your lips when you sense a weight shifting around on your bed, creeping along your right side. A petite, fluffy tabby appears by your right shoulder, head tilted to the side and ears flicking in curiosity.

A husky chuckle rumbles from your throat. “Mornin’ Disney,” you murmur, as you rub your knuckles between her ears.

“What’re your dads doin’ downstairs, huh?” you ask quietly, “Shall we go an’ take a look?”

Disney seems too distracted by your fingers to really take note of your question. For a minute, you allow yourself to be transfixed by her deep, happy purrs, letting the sound wash over you in waves.

The three of you decided to adopt Disney from a pet shelter a couple of months ago. You can safely say that getting her has been one of the better decisions that you’ve made in your lifetime. Annoying tendencies to scratch up the furniture and knock things over with her tail aside, she’s the sweetest thing in the entire universe. Disney is a great comfort to you when the boys are away on long missions, and a wonderful companion to the boys when the pressures of world-saving become a little too much to handle.

You and Disney lie there for an unspecified amount of time, the only sounds in the room being Disney’s contented little purrs and your slow breathing. You’re contemplating whether or not it’s really worth leaving your blanket fort to investigate the happenings downstairs. It’s been at least five minutes since the second crash, and there haven’t been anymore loud noises in that time, but that doesn’t really put you at ease.

Steve and Bucky are more than capable of handling themselves but — well, they’re not the best of cooks, and you’d rather not be forced out of bed because the house was burning down, or something.

With a heavy sigh, you gingerly push yourself up into a sitting position and lift Disney onto Steve’s pillow, before rolling out of bed. You head into the bathroom to relieve yourself, wash your face and brush your teeth, before slipping on your fluffy pink bathrobe — the one with the bunny ears attached to the hood — and sliding your feet into a pair of blue and white polkadot slippers. When Disney realises that you’re about to leave the room, she elegantly leaps off the bed and pads over to you, winding herself around your legs and butting her head against your calves.

“C’mon baby,” you whisper, as you pull open the bedroom door. “Let’s see what they’re—oh.”

You break off as the pungent smell of burnt food assaults your nostrils. It’s overpoweringly bitter and wholly unpleasant; the stench makes you want to gag. Even Disney seems unimpressed, flicking her tail the way she does when she’s annoyed. Whatever’s going on downstairs can’t be good.

Yep. It’s definitely time to investigate.

You make your way downstairs, pulling your robe tighter around your chest to protect your skin from the chilly morning air. The burning smell only becomes stronger with each step you take — you’re surprised that you haven’t thrown up by this point, honestly.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the Steve and Bucky are in the kitchen. You cross the living room, Disney hot on your heels, and pause at the entryway to your kitchen to assess the scene.

To describe the kitchen as ‘chaos’ would be a euphemism.

It looks like a hurricane has whipped around the room. A bag of flour seems to have exploded, as every surface — the cupboards, the countertops, the floor, everything — is coated in a layer of white dust. A tin of cocoa powder also seems to have burst open, because the kitchen counters are speckled with streaks of rich brown. Pots and pans and dirty spoons are scattered across the worktops; used bowls have been stacked up into haphazard piles in and around the sink. The floor is littered with slices strawberries and a couple of banana peels. Egg shells scattered in random places complete the overall aesthetic.

The boys have — thankfully — opened up the windows to air out the house and get rid of that pungent burnt odour, but right now, the scent is plugging up your nostrils and making each breath a struggle.

Steve and Bucky are standing by the stove, hunched over a pan and murmuring quietly amongst themselves. They’re so focused that they haven’t even heard you come in. Bucky says something to Steve, who turns around to grab something off the kitchen island. When he sees you, standing in the entryway with your arms folded over your chest, he freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Mornin’ Stevie,” you say, the corner of your mouth crooking up into a smirk.

“Uhh…good morning, sweetheart,” Steve says, in a strangled voice. When Bucky whirls around, you just manage to catch the look of shock-and-dismay that crosses his face, before it gets replaced by a beaming grin.

“Mornin’ beautiful!” Bucky chirps, “Ready for breakfast?”

You pointedly glance around the trashed kitchen, before arching an eyebrow questioningly. “You were making breakfast?” you ask dryly, “Could’a fooled me. I thought you just had a food fight.”

Suspiciously bright flushes of red bloom across Steve’s cheekbones. It’s then that you notice the smears of white on Steve’s t-shirt and sleep pants, to match the multicoloured splatters on Bucky’s clothes. There are streaks of white and — oh goodness, is that egg in their hair?

“You did have a food fight, didn’t you?” you sigh, shaking your head in fond annoyance.

“Well…Steve started it,” Bucky says, giving you a cheeky wink before turning back to jiggle his pan around. Steve is spluttering in shock.

“Bucky!” he cries, not unlike an indignant toddler.

“Yes?” Bucky sing-songs, drawing out the syllable.

“I—you—ugh why do I even bother?” Steve mutters darkly.

Disney gracefully leaps up onto the kitchen counter and starts pawing curiously at the bits and bobs littered on the messy surface, taking particular interest in a couple of blueberries.

Steve frowns at her as he runs his fingers through the silky-soft fur of her back. “Disney,” he scolds, “I thought we were clear on the plan? You were supposed to keep your mother in bed until we’d finished!”

“Told ya’ we should’a gone with my idea,” Bucky drawls, glancing over his shoulder

“Shuddup,” Steve says, without missing a beat, “Disney just needs a little more training, is all.”

“Hold up—what plan?” you ask, interrupting their bickering. You step forward and cautiously lean your elbows on the island countertop — after checking that you’re not putting your robe in anything suspicious, of course.

“Uhh…we were gonna make you breakfast,” Steve says slowly.

“Okay, I got that. But…why?”

Bucky sighs, turning off the stove and stepping up behind Steve, looping his metal arm around Steve’s waist. “‘Cause we wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, to say sorry for missing our anniversary,” Bucky explains.

You’re fairly certain that your heart melts into a puddle at his words. “Really?”

“Yeah, sweetie,” Steve murmurs, a shy smile gracing his lips, “We were gonna make you breakfast and feed it to you in bed and then take you out, and—,”

“Treat you like a princess,” Bucky finishes.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees.

Without saying a word, you briskly stride around the island and throw yourself into their arms, not caring about the fact that you’re probably getting all kinds of foodstuffs onto your clothes. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and your heart feels so full you genuinely think that it might burst. Steve and Bucky hold you close, Bucky burying his face against your neck, Steve tucking your head under his chin.

“Honeys, you didn’t have to,” you mumble, your voice coming out muffled because your face is smushed into Steve’s glorious pecs. “We already did something and—,”

“But we didn’t do something special,” Steve protests, “Buck and I were away on a mission for most of the day—,”

“And when we got home, we basically passed out for a million hours,” Bucky adds.

“But I didn’t care!” you insist, “We said I love you, and I got a really nice card—,”

“But I care, gorgeous,” Steve says quietly, crooking his index finger under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to look into his beautiful, bright blue eyes. “We care. We wanted to do something special for you. Treat you like a princess.”

“Sap,” you sniffle, giving him a watery smile.

Steve rumbles approvingly as you card your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “You always treat me like a princess, darlings,” you murmur, humming softly as Bucky presses a kiss to the crook of your neck. “You always treat me like I’m the most special thing in the world.”

“Well then, we wanted to try do something extra special, today,” Bucky says, letting you go as he takes a step back. He pauses as his eyes do a quick scan around the kitchen. “Uh…emphasis on try, I guess.”

You burst out laughing, twisting out of Steve’s grip as you spin in a slow circle, letting the enormity of the mess sink in. “Yeah…I’d have to agree with you there, Buck,” you snort, “What happened?”

Steve sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face and frowning when his fingers come away coated in flour.

He may or may not have a dusting of white on his cheek.

“Well…the breakfast plan was pancakes with sausages,” he starts, looking to Bucky for some assistance.

“Yeah, but then—uh…we got sidetracked with the pancake idea,” Bucky says, gesturing vaguely around the room. You chuckle in amusement.

“And I’m guessing you burned the sausages, or something?” you ask teasingly.

Steve’s blush deepens. “What gave it away?” he mumbles.

“Oh, I think the burning smell might have been a big clue,” you say airily.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Steve says stubbornly, a cute little furrow appearing in the middle of his brow. “Bucky was in charge of—,”

“It’s not Bucky’s fault that he doesn’t know how to use this fancy-shmancy new oven!” Bucky protests, throwing his arms up in frustration as he turns back to the stove, “And yes, Bucky is now referring to himself in third person, because why the ever-loving fuck not?”

You giggle helplessly, coming up behind Bucky and wrapping your arms around his muscled waist. You plant a kiss on his shoulder — the metal one — and he cranes his head back to press his lips to your forehead. “So what’s on the stove, then?” you ask.

“Erm…it’s supposed to be pancake batter,” Steve says apologetically, popping up on your left side.

You peer over Bucky’s shoulder and narrow your eyes in suspicion. “It’s so…watery,” you comment hesitantly.

Bucky sighs. “Yeah, yeah, we fucked up,” he grumbles.

You giggle, patting his side consolingly. “Okay then, how ‘bout this — since I’m awake now and I’m the only one out of the three of us who can actually make pancakes, why don’t you let me handle the cooking?”

“But gorgeous!” Steve protests, “You aren’t supposed to—,”

“Whilst you boys clean up this mess,” you interrupt, holding your hand up to stop him. Steve’s mouth snaps shut and he concedes to your request with a shrug.

Bucky hangs his head down and sighs exaggeratedly. “Well, I ‘spose that’s fair,” he admits, “But I want a good morning kiss ‘fore I get to it.”

You roll your eyes but indulge his request, loosening your grip on his waist so that Bucky can turn around and catch you in his arms. Then, before you know it, he’s slanting his lips over yours and kissing you like he means it — luxurious and deep, with just the right amount of tongue.

As he pulls away, you tip your head backwards and to the side, easily finding Steve’s lips. He kisses you with just as much reverence and tenderness, teasingly flicking his tongue over your bottom lip. Steve tastes of strawberries and mint toothpaste.

They manage to distract you for several long minutes, taking it in turns to claim your mouth. Steve cups the back of your head, whilst Bucky’s thumbs rub circles into your sides. Your pleased sighs and soft moans fill the air.

Unfortunately, breakfast is not about to cook itself.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough now,” you say firmly, wriggling out of their grip and twisting to face the stove. “Time to clean now.”

You give Bucky a playful shove when he tries to swoop in for another kiss. “Clean,” you repeat, more forcefully this time, though it’s hard to be serious when you have two goofballs for boyfriends.

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky says, snapping you a two-fingered salute.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Buck—Peggy would’a had a heart attack if she saw that,” Steve mutters, as he crouches down to get the cleaning supplies out of the cupboard under the sink.

“Yeah, well, at least I didn’t scare her by running into HYDRA bases without waiting for—,”

“For fuck’s sake, Bucky! That was just the one time—,”

“Nu-uh! One time in France, and then another one time in Italy, and then—,”

“I waited for backup in Italy!”

“Stevie, honey, I think you and I remember Italy very differently.”

“Well yeah, that’s ‘cause all you ‘member ‘bout Italy was how I sucked you off in…”

You shake your head in fond exasperation, tuning out their conversation as you pull out the ingredients you’ll need. Honestly, the two of them argue like an old, married couple — but, you wouldn’t have them any other way. You start to hum quietly under your breath as you measure out the ingredients into a mixing bowl, the motions familiar and soothing to you. You’ve learned from experience to make triple the normal recipe, because super-soldier metabolism is not to be messed with.

Disney appears on the kitchen counter and plops herself down by the bowl, watching you with keen eyes as you mix everything together.

She seems especially interested in the chocolate chips.

You shoo her away when it’s time to actually cook the pancakes — you don’t want to accidentally set her tail on fire, or something. The boys have actually done quite well, so far; Steve is busy attacking the mountain of dishes and utensils by the sink, whilst Bucky has made a lot of progress in wiping down the surfaces and cleaning up the spillages on the floor.

As you wait for the pan to heat up, you lean your palms against the side of the counter and close your eyes, content to just listen to the sounds around you. Bucky’s low whistling and the squirting noises coming from his spray bottle overlay the running tap and the clattering and banging of Steve’s dishwashing.

There’s something so domestic about it all.

Not for the first time, you can’t help but think how goddamn lucky you are to have these two wonderful souls to share your life with. Yeah, the morning might not have gone exactly the way Steve and Bucky had planned, but — the love in the air is so palpable you could almost stick your tongue out and taste it. The atmosphere is homey, and amiable, and everything you never knew you wanted.

Fucking hell, Steve’s sappiness is rubbing off on you.

You pour in some of the pancake batter when the pan seems hot enough, then dart off to grab some plates and a spatula.

Flipping pancakes takes you back to lazy Sunday mornings in your family home. You remember the cartoons playing on low volume in the background, whilst you and your parents made breakfast in the kitchen. You remember listening to your dad singing off-key as the pancakes piled up in an impressive stack beside him. Sometimes, your mother would be baking — cookies, muffins, bread, whatever she was in the mood for. You remember feeling so happy and fulfilled and loved.

It’s funny how things can be so different and simultaneously so similar. The sounds are different, the house is different, the people around you are different — but you feel no less happy, or fulfilled, or loved, with this new family of yours. If anything, those emotions have only increased tenfold.

You’re so engrossed in your thoughts that you let out a startled gasp when someone wraps their arms around your waist.

“Oops, sorry, honey,” Steve apologises, laughing softly as he ducks to press a kiss behind your ear. “Jus’ wanted to say that it smells good.”

“S’almost ready,” you tell him, turning to brush your lips over the tip of his nose. “Set the table, please?”

“On it,” he says, letting go of you with an affectionate squeeze to your ass.

As you pour the last of the batter into the pan, you listen as Steve lays out the cutlery on the small dining table in the alcove. Bucky is calling out to Disney as he shakes her cat food into her bowl. You slide the last pancake onto the plate, turn off the stove, then grab the two enormous pancake stacks and carry them over to the dining table, setting the plates in the middle so that everyone can help themselves.

“Oooh damn, sweetie, those look great,” Bucky says, coming up beside you.

Once you’ve set the plates down, you turn towards him and are pleasantly surprised to see him with a mug of coffee in each hand, one of which he holds out towards you.

“Thanks, honey,” you say softly, accepting the mug from him and wrapping your fingers around it.

“Made it just the way you like it,” he says, leaning in to peck you on the lips. You take a quick sip and nod your approval — just the way you like it indeed.

Steve comes over at that point and sets the condiments down on the table. There’s syrup, honey, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, bananas and a range of berries. Frankly, you’re surprised that he managed to carry all of that over without dropping anything.

Bucky, ever the gentleman, pulls out your seat and gestures for you to sit down with a great flourish. You giggle, gingerly perching on the chair as he pushes you in. Steve sits down on your right and Bucky on your left, the three of you facing the gigantic windows so that you can watch the sky change colour as the sun climbs through it. Right now, it’s a wonderful gradient of purples and pinks.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Steve says, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. Bucky’s flesh hand curls over your thigh, thumb stroking the soft skin there.

“Happy anniversary, darlings,” you murmur, settling into your chair as Steve dishes out the pancakes. You reach for your favourite toppings and add them in generous servings to your plate.

“Of fuck,” Bucky moans. Your head snaps to the side so fast, you almost give yourself whiplash. Bucky’s chewing with his eyes closed, a blissed-out expression on his face. He stuffs another forkful into his mouth and moans again.

You turn to Steve and share a look with him. He raises an eyebrow, whilst you try to suppress your giggles.

That moan sounded a lot like Bucky’s sex moan.

“Guess they call it food porn for a reason, huh, Buck?” Steve asks, voice lighthearted and teasing.

Bucky nods emphatically, before turning to look at you. “Honey, you’re amazing, and I love you and your pancakes.”

You can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, then, bright and cheerful and amused.

“Taste!” Bucky urges, breaking off a scrap of pancake with his finger, drenching it in syrup and bringing it to your mouth.

You take the pancake from his fingers, being sure to give an exaggerated groan when his thumb presses against your lips. Before Bucky can pull his hand away, your tongue darts out to lick the syrup from his fingers. You look at him through your lashes and make quiet, pleased noises in the back of your throat as you clean him off.

You don’t miss the way Bucky’s eyes darken, nor do you miss the way Steve’s breathing hitches. You sense Steve throwing his arm over the back of your chair as he leans in close, his face right up against the side of your neck.

“Behave, princess,” Steve growls quietly, nipping your earlobe for emphasis.

You have a feeling you know how the rest of your morning is going to go down.

#stucky x reader #steve x bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x you #stucky x reader fanfic #stucky x reader imagine #stucky x reader fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #bucky barnes fluff #stucky fluff #steve fluff #bucky fluff #my writing

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hazbinextgeneration · 6 years

Text

Overly Protective Deer

(Done as a request for me by @twilightna. The Hazbin gang belongs to Vivziepop.)

The morning light began to streak through the window of the darkened bedroom that was the living quarters of the resident cannibal Alastor and the music sensation Mimzy. Inside was a lovely king bed with the softest mattress one could only dream of. Which was precisely why the demented cannibal was wrapped up in to soft duvet and sheets. It was rare for him to ever sleep this heavily, and he was relishing it. And he hoped his beautiful mate was as well. She had been quite restless from the new life growing within her. Blinking his crimson eyes open, Alastor yawned, revealing his sharp dagger like teeth. “Good morning, my darling,” he purred, reaching a hand out to pet his mates’ hair, “How did you-” He cut himself off when his fingertips touched the silky fabric of a pillow case. Instantly, his head popped off his own pillow and he stared at the empty space where his Mimzy would have been sleeping. “Mimzy?! Mimzy, my inspiration, my love! Where are you?!” Jumping out of the bed like a frightened cake, Alastor ran to check the bathroom. The small area was empty and devoid of life, sending Alastor further into a panic. He ran to run out into the hallway, but a scrap of paper caught his eye. The parchment was resting idly on Mimzy’s vanity set, where several of her favorite brand-named cosmetics were gone. Quickly picking up the note, his red eyes read through and deciphered Mimzy’s fancy, extravagant cursive hand writing. Hello my love! The girls and I have decided to have a spa day today to help me alleviate my stress levels! Please don’t be worried about me! I’ll be back by the end of the day. Love you so much~ ~ Your Loving Wife ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Ahhhhh,” Mimzy sighed as she dipped her sore, aching feet into the warm salted bath water. She closed her eyes and relaxed in the soft chair the oh so polite staff member had given her. The sensation of all her aches and pains melting away was extraordinary and immediately, Mimzy felt at peace. Breathing in through her nose, she picked up the delightful scents of lavender, warm water, and fresh nail polish. In her mind, this was heaven. “How do you feel, Mimzy?” Humming, Mimzy opened one of her spiraling pink eyes and smiled happily to a very relaxed looking Charlie. “I feel absolutely refreshed!” The musical diva proclaimed, raising her nonalcoholic smoothie in her hand. “This was just what I needed! Thank you so much for bringing me!” “It’s my pleasure, Mimzy,” Charlie smiled, leaning back and placing cucumber slices over her eyes. “After all, you deserved something to help you be comfortable with all the coddling Alastor has been doing.” “Awww, but I think it’s so sweet!” Mimzy looked over to her dear friend Nifty. The cyclops was knitting up a storm as the pedicurist worked diligently on her dainty feet. Nifty smiled at Mimzy widely and sipped her triple chocolate peanut butter shake, quickly going back to knitting when she was done drinking. “It is sweet of him, I won’t deny,” Mimzy admitted, placing her hand to her heart. She sighed and put her drink down. “But he must understand that I can handle myself! He doesn’t need to be around me all the time!” “It’s just male nature.” Charlie hummed and lifted one of the cucumbers off her eyes to look at Vaggie. The one-eyed demoness was sipping her earl grey tea and reading a novel with one hand while her other was being taken care of by a manicurist. Vaggie took a moment to look up from her intriguing book to gaze at Mimzy with a kind understanding. “Angel Dust was beyond overprotective with me. He only stopped when I decided that throwing my knives at his target dummies, which were moving rapidly, by the way, and hit every single mark.” Taking a quick sip of her tea, she returned to finish the small story. “Eventually, all his protectiveness boiled down to making sure I wasn’t in any excruciating pain.” Charlie shrugged, trying to remain positive. “I don’t believe this protective behavior will last forever, but with Alastor, you may never know.” Mimzy hummed and relaxed back into her seat, sipping her fruit smoothie and taking in the sounds and smells of the spa and falling into a relaxing state of being… Which shattered into millions of pieces when Nifty’s voice said four words: “Hey! Isn’t that Alastor?” Snapping her eyes open like a reverse bear trap, Mimzy turned to look at the fuchsia haired woman. Nifty pointed out the window and three women followed her direction. Now it wouldn’t be hard to spot Alastor: with his abnormally tall height and his ears pointed upward, twitching for any to all sound that could possible lead him to his precious wife and unborn offspring. Mimzy groaned and clasped her hands over her face, groaning behind them. Charlie, however, was not about to see one of her hotel’s inhabitants lose their happy time. Pulling off the cucumber slices and jumping to her feet, Charlie instantly marched over to the radio demon, a look of determination on her face. Vaggie and Nifty watched as the Princess of Hell boldly approached the very feared tyrant of the radio waves. A soft ‘ahem’ caught the sensitive ear’s attention and Alastor quickly whipped around, hopping it was his queen. But instead, he stared into the very upset eyes of Charlie, who had her arms crossed and her foot was tapping impatiently. Although, one most certainly wouldn’t have taken this show of dominance seriously, seeing as Charlie was wrapped in a fluffy red robe with matching red spa flipflops. “Charlie! Thank goodness I’ve found you! Where is Mimzy? I need-” Charlie raised her hand and cut the overly worried buck off. “Alastor.” The cannibal blinked at her firm and authoritative tone. She hardly ever used that with anyone. “Your wife is stressed and exhausted. She has to support her body as best as she can to make sure that your child is healthy and happy. But she cannot do that if she is trapped inside the hotel room all day and has to be constantly carried by you.” Recrossing her arms, she stared up at Alastor firmly. “I understand that you’re worried about her safety and your child’s safety. But she is fine when she has others with her! Vaggie, Nifty, and myself won’t let a single grabby male touch a hair on her head without cutting the limb off first. Understood?” Alastor remained frozen for several seconds before nodding. “Good. Now go back to the hotel. Our spa sessions won’t be over until the end of the day.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Alastor laid next to his wife in their soft bed, gently rubbing her swollen tummy while she read a fashion magazine. “My darling?” “Hmm?” “I’ve decided… not to be so… restrictive about your whereabouts.” “Thank you, sweetie~…” Bending down as much as she could, Mimzy pecked Alastor’s forehead lovingly. “That’s all I ever wanted from you~…”

#Hazbin

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brokenximagination-archive · 6 years

Text

Drabble- Broken Wings

WARNING: Please make sure you have blacklisted ‘tw; child abuse’ if you need to, and please don’t hesitate to let me know of any other trigger warnings that I forgot to mention.

It is put under a ‘read more’ cut because I wrote far more than I intended to, and I won’t force you lovely people to scroll past all of it.

Bare feet crushed acorns and snapped twigs hidden in the leafy undergrowth as scrawny legs pumped away. The wind whistled past his ears as he dodged and weaved through the woodland. Boughs reached out, their branches occasionally snagging on the child’s celestial garb. Off-white robes smeared with the brown of mud and the green of moss, littered with small holes and rips.

He is a beautiful child, fair locks shimmered with gold as sunlight beamed through the canopy. Chubby cheeks painted pink, and a wide grin overflowing with delirium. His laughter sounded like a robin’s chirrup as it echoed among the trees, joining the chorus of wrens, starlings, and jays.

As the crunchy coppice came to an end, as did the boy’s running. Toes flexed and dug into the soft dirt as his eyes, blue like the dawn sky, raked over the wildflower meadow before him. Tentatively, he walked into the blanket of tall grass, running his fingers over the fluffy plumes drooping beside him.

His destination- the centre of the golden field.

There he stopped, his small frame breaking only a few blades as he lay down. The grass swaying above him provided gentle shade. What sunlight did break through, was relished by his skin, appreciative for the warmth.

It is unclear how long the boy lay there, but when he opened his eyes, the golden field was washed with black. Like someone spilled ink on a watercolour portrait. His frail body shivered as he sat up, deeply missing the sunlight and the warmth.

It was time for the reluctant journey home.

The grass scratched at his feet as he left the meadow, an itch quickly lead way into niggling pain. He was fairly certain that he was bleeding, but it was too dark to check his heel and be sure. Nevertheless, he carried on. Hugging himself as he was swallowed by the pitch black forest.

Great big trees towered above him, seemingly changing shape into something warped and threatening, partially hidden in the shadows. Their leaves provided an extra layer of darkness, and the boy could no longer see his hands in front of his eyes. Blindly, he navigated through the woodland that he raced through so joyfully earlier that very same day.

Branches clawed at his skin, night critters brushed against his shins, protruding roots caught and tripped him up at every chance. His body was littered with black and blue splotches, raw cuts soaked his tattered robes a bright red. Still, with waning energy and watery eyes, he persisted.

‘HOO!’

The hoot of a night owl startled him into a sprint. Feet pounded away, kicking up leaves with the dust. Stumbling, tripping through the woods. Branches turned into razors against his skin, cutting his chubby cheeks. He fell once more, and this time did not get up again.

He tucked his knees up to his chin as he curled up into a ball, nestled in between two large tree roots. Fat tears rolled down his beaten face, stinging his grazed knees as the salty water fell into the wounds. His body was wracked with the force of his sobs, and violent shivers from the bitingly cold ground. Eyes darted around at every snap of a twig, at every rustle of a bush. Once innocent sounds now promised threat and harm to the scared, lonely boy.

A large hand grabbed his wrist.

His jaw dropped and a piercing scream echoed throughout the trees. A flock of birds were startled and shrouded the moonlight as they flew away, the beating of wings joined his scream in piercing the silence of the night.

He was being pulled to his feet, dragged along as he struggled and fought against wide strides. His feet pitter-pattered against pristine tile, leaving dirty and bloody streaks in his wake. He clawed and bit at the hand that still had it’s bruising grip on him but nothing loosened it.

‘We warned you, Samandriel’

The voice boomed over his screams, bouncing off the white walls, equally as clean and pristine as the floor.

‘This was your last chance’

Still he screamed, ‘NO! NO!’, and continued to fight against his captor. And continued to do so even as they went through corridor after corridor. Each felt as endless as the one before.

Finally, they turned away from the corridor and into a small room, one that Samandriel has never seen before. Inside of it was only one piece of furniture.

A large, white, reclining chair.

He was pulled towards it and roughly lifted by his wrist, his arm painfully stretching from it’s socket. His feet scrambled for purchase for a few seconds before he was unceremoniously dropped into the padded chair. Immediately he clambered to escape but was stopped by one hand pressed against his chest, pushing and holding him back.

Swiftly, a belt wrapped around his chest. One on each ankle. More on each wrist. One on his chin, and another along his forehead. Until he was strapped down to the large chair, completely unable to move.

He begged ‘why?’. He asked ‘what is this?’ And ‘where am I?’.

Wordlessly, almost sullenly with an odd expression in his eyes, the man left. The white door slammed shut behind him, and Samandriel was left alone. Throat hoarse and limbs sore.

But he wasn’t alone for at all long.

Soon, a lady walked in. She was as prim and proper as her up-do hair and pressed grey suit suggested. High-heels clicked against the tiles as she sauntered towards him, echoing throughout the empty room.

‘Samandriel...’

She cooed, pursing her lips as her cold fingers moved some stray golden hair away from his face.

‘You have been told time and time again, you can’t just run around as you please on that filthy planet. What if a human saw you? What if you got hurt? We can’t have that now, can we?’

Samandriel stayed warily silent. It was only for a brief moment, but he could have sworn that he saw her face contort into disgust as she took in his dishevelled appearance.

‘Do you know what this is?’

She asked and detached something from the chair itself. It looked like a silver pen with a hose attached to it, but Samandriel doubted that it was that simple. He went to shake his head but forgot that he physically couldn’t. Silence wasn’t an option, she was clearly expecting an answer.

With a small voice, he whispered, ‘no...?’

She smiled, painted lips curling over perfect white teeth. It looked unnatural, like she wasn’t used to it.

‘No, you wouldn’t, would you. Well, no matter. All you need to know is that it’ll fix you, Samandriel. Wouldn’t you like that? To be normal like all your brothers and sisters?’

It suddenly whirred to life, a loud and piercing shrill. The sound startled the fledgling, but it was the spinning rotors on the very tip of the instrument that frightened him the most. He renewed his struggling with vigour, yanking against his restraints, trying to break free.

His eyes widened as the drill loomed steadily closer, chest heaving as his breaths turned into panicked hyperventilation. His fruitless struggling stopped, dirty nails dug into the white seat, leaving small crescent-shaped holes.

Like a deer in headlights, he could only be still, and helplessly watch his own destruction.

...................................................................................................

Bare feet slapped against the tiles as scrawny legs moved with an even stride. The chatter of other angels drifted past his ears as he weaved through the crowd and through the corridors. They mostly ignored him, their wings occasionally brushing against the child’s celestial garb. Pure white robes draped across his body, covering him in a spotless, pristine uniform.

He is a beautiful child, fair locks shimmered with gold as incandescent light illuminated him from the ceiling. Hollow cheeks were pale, and his face was as still as a porcelain doll.

Angels were made to be seen, not heard.

#supernatural drabble #Samandriel #Naomi #v; little wings #headcanon #tw; child abuse #//I am.... so not sorry for this #//suffer with me #//this took me so long to write lmfao #//I hope it was worth it

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webcricket · 7 years

Text

To Love Somebody

Characters: CastielXReader, ft. Sam and Dean Winchester

Word Count: 3242

A/N: Castiel wants to demonstrate his love for the reader but doesn’t know how. Cue up the most adorable, awkward angel ever as he tries and repeatedly fails to show you his love. Inspired by Castiel’s utterly innocent Websummons app search in episode 12.19 of “how to fix a truck” (no spoilers) – because, you know, the internet has all the answers to life’s complex problems! Pure unadulterated Fluffy Fluff (yes, with capital Fs ‘cause Fluff is capital).

Castiel meandered aimlessly into the library, deep in contemplation, stopped up short by the edge of the glassy smooth mahogany table where Sam and Dean sat steeped in a heap of dusty lore books and Men of Letters file boxes researching the latest case.

The angel had been off his game for days – quieter than usual, less helpful, more vague, seeking solitude in the lesser used domains of the bunker, thoughts wandering again and again to the image of you he held in his mind’s eye. He’d always felt more protective toward you than to other humans, even the Winchesters - your injuries and anguish wounding him in a manner he did not understand. And like the sun, you were the brightest object in any room. He found himself perpetually staring at you, into you - the radiant warmth of your soul pleasantly tugging against his celestial being as he fought the urge to gravitate closer, his grace sparking, flaring, and blazing through his vessel like a wildfire in your company. In your absence, he still sensed and craved this all-consuming burn – the very thought of you enough to stir a tingle of heat and longing within his vessel.

Three days ago, Castiel decided what he was feeling for you could be nothing short of love itself. And now that he had named it, he was bursting at the seams to tell you. Yet his burgeoning love remained tempered with fear you would not return his feelings. He could not confess it outright, could not compromise your friendship - he would rather remain your friend than risk pushing you out of reach and be damned to exist alone in the dark forever remembering what it was like to be bathed in the reflective light of your soul.

“Hey Cas,” Sam glanced up from the worn leather book he was perusing, greeting the angel with a friendly but weary smile.

Cas blinked his bright blue eyes, the cloudy haze of thoughts clearing from their sapphire depths to focus on the immediate surroundings. Noticing the brothers’ presence for the first time, he nodded acknowledgement, plodding to the nearest chair, crumpling into the seat, head lolling backward to study the tin tile work of the ceiling as if it might contain the answers he sought.

Dean curiously noted his friend’s sullen demeanor, snapping shut the laptop, reclining in his chair, and folding brawny arms across his chest, “Okay, I’ll bite - what’s with the frowny face?”

Cas sighed, squaring his shoulders, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. He squinted at the elder Winchester, “I’m searching for the solution to a conundrum vexing me of late.”

“Uh huh,” Dean’s green eyes lit up with amusement, fingers scratching the day-old stubble on his chin, “you try Google?”

“Dean,” Sam chided his brother for the less than helpful remark. Setting down his book, he addressed the angel, “Cas, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?”

“I do,” Cas slowly bobbed his chin. He’d pondered asking the Winchesters for guidance, deciding against it, not wanting to hold any resentment toward his brothers if their advice backfired. They’d forgiven each other for many things over the years, he could not add this to the ledger. The angel forced a half-smile, “And thank you Sam, I appreciate your friendship, but this is something I have to figure out on my own.”

“Well then, I’m going to look for the answers to this case in some pie,” Dean slapped his palms to his knees with a loud clap, standing up. “You know, it’s a universal fact that pie contains all the answers.”

Sam smirked, arching a questioning brow, “Dude, did you just make a math reference?”

Dean gaped blankly at his brother.

Cas elucidated, “Because pi is a transcendental number containing all the information that has ever existed or will exist – everything in the universe.”

“What? No!” Dean shook his head, shuddering, mumbling as he strode from the room in the direction of the kitchen, “Nerds.”

Sam shrugged at Cas as he took up his discarded book in pursuit of actual tangible answers about the case.

The angel peered thoughtfully in the direction of Dean’s exit for some minutes, Dean’s joking suggestion of an internet search resounding in his mind. Fishing the phone from his pocket, he opened the Websummons app and typed in his query: How to show someone you love them. He pressed search, selecting the first link to appear.

Tell them something you appreciate about them, no matter how minor or insignificant. Castiel lounged beside you in the library, near enough for the heat of your body to wash over his vessel, yet not so close as he truly desired. Raptly studying your profile, a lore book lay open and forgotten in his lap. Perceiving the subtle scent of coconut lip balm melting into the soft creases of your mouth, he imaged what your plump pink lips would feel like pressed against his own.

You fidgeted under his scrutiny, crossing and uncrossing your legs repeatedly. You’d known the angel long enough to be used to his tendency to stare. You considered it a cute angelic quirk, knowing he did not mean to be rude or intrusive. Generally, you could ignore this seemingly undivided innocent attention from the angel, but something about the intensity of his stare tonight made it difficult for you to focus on research. Unable to endure it any longer, you cleared your throat, twisting in your chair to confront the angel, “Cas, was there something on your mind?”

His gleaming blue eyes flared a bit wider in surprise, focus shifting to a stray wisp of hair overlying your ear, throat bobbing harshly as he gulped, “I, uh, was just noticing how wonderfully formed your ears are.” It wasn’t exactly what he meant to say - he intended something far more poetic about the glints of yellow glittering in your eyes like tiny points of starlight.

You stifled a chuckle, grinning, laugh lines deepening as you grappled to contain your amusement at his odd compliment.

Cas rambled on, cadence strangely harried, “Did you know that ears, like fingerprints, are unique to the individual?”

“I didn’t know that,” the urge to laugh began to dampen under a shadow of concern at the angel’s strange behavior.

A faint flush of pink bloomed across his cheeks as he continued, fingertips reaching out to push the loose strands of hair behind your ear and lightly brushing the areas he spoke of, “You have a particularly distinguished tragus and beautifully arching helix.”

Fleeting concern forgotten at the tickle of his gentle caress, ears turning beat red, you blushed, “Um, thank you? I think.”

The angel shyly nodded, regard dropping to the book in his lap, staring unseeingly at the words on the page.

Make them their favorite food or a special breakfast in bed. Castiel peered between his phone and the assembled utensils, bowls, and ingredients spread on the shiny steel kitchen counter before him. He strode to the oven, setting it to pre-heat to the temperature indicated by the recipe for chocolate chip cookies. Measuring cup set on the counter, he dumped the bag of flour sideways, sending a cloud of white powder cascading out to quickly overflow the cup and puff into the air. He flinched backward from the explosion of dust, wiping and smearing streaks of flour across his coat. Shedding the trench and suit coats, he shook them out and threw them over the bench, suddenly comprehending the necessity for that silly apron you always wore when baking.

Dean sleepily stumbled in from the hall, clad in boxers, a tight white t-shirt, and his plundered MoL robe. He apathetically surveyed the situation, too tired to muster the sass to properly ask his friend what the hell was going on.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas gestured apologetically at the mess, “I’ll clean this up when I’m done.”

Dean shrugged and grunted in response, lurching toward the coffee pot to pour himself a mug.

Cas returned to his task, placing several sticks of butter in a bowl to soften in the microwave, grateful for Dean’s passive sleep-numbed reaction.

“Sugar,” Dean mumbled zombie-like, fumbling for and not finding the bag beside the coffee maker where it usually resided. He looked over at the cookie ingredients on the counter. Seeing the missing bag, he took it from where the angel had moved it, tossing a spoonful in his mug and putting it back next to the coffee maker where it belonged before dragging his lumbering frame out into the hall.

“Sugar,” Cas echoed Dean’s query, finding the ingredient missing from his stash. A similarly shaped bag on the edge of the counter caught his eye, and he blindly grabbed it, pouring out the appropriate number of cups into the melted butter. Dry and wet ingredients combined, chocolate chips folded in, the dough looked very much like the one you so often made for yourself and the boys. The angel ventured a taste of the raw dough, mimicking your actions when you baked - it tasted like perfectly acceptable molecules to him. He carefully spooned out several dozen cookies and placed them in the oven. Your alarm would go off in 20 minutes. In 13 minutes he would remove the cookies from the oven, allow them to cool on the counter for 5 minutes, then transfer them to a plate still slightly warm, pour you a large glass of cool milk, and make his way to your bedroom to serve you breakfast in bed. He reasoned a special breakfast in bed meant he should also serve your favorite food, regardless of whether that food was breakfast. Everything was falling perfectly into place. Waiting on the oven, cleaning up his mess, he picked up the bag of sugar to put away next to the coffee maker. Finding a bag already there, he read the label of the bag in his hands – salt. He didn’t dwell long on the fact he used salt instead of sugar, there wasn’t time, and after all, the dough looked the same, salt and sugar couldn’t be that different – the oven dinged.

Rolling over with a yawn, you slammed your palm to silence the alarm, hearing someone knocking at the door the instant it was quieted. “Come in,” you ran your fingers through sleep tousled hair and sat up against the headboard.

Castiel pushed open the creaking door, cautiously peering through the opening.

“Cas?” You shifted to get out of bed, alarmed by his early morning incursion, “What’s going on?”

“Don’t get up,” he held up a hand, swinging the door open with his foot to enter the room, “I, uh, I made you breakfast.”

“Really?” You half-smiled, sitting up taller to see the contents of the tray held out in his arms, “It’s not even my birthday or anything.”

“I know,” he set the tray on your lap, “but I wanted to do something special for you.”

Your eyes flitted between the beaming angel and the cookies and milk, wondering what you’d done to deserve this special attention, “I don’t know what to say, thank you Cas.” You bit down on a gooey cookie, wincing, taste buds immediately overwhelmed by saltiness. You made a concerted effort to mask your reaction, chugging half the glass of milk to wash away the disgusting taste, “They’re, uh…”

“Too salty?” Cas offered, brow furrowing, crestfallen as he perched on the edge of the mattress. He should have realized, should have scrapped the whole silly plan when he discovered he’d used salt instead of sugar. Instead he humiliated himself again in front of you. He couldn’t seem to do anything the way he intended.

Setting the tray aside, you crawled to your knees to hug the angel from behind, wrapping your arms firmly around his broad shoulders. Pecking a quick kiss on his stubbly cheek, you murmured in his ear, “It doesn’t matter, I still appreciate the thoughtfulness. I mean it angel, thank you.”

Long after you excused yourself to have a shower, his fingers reflexively lingered over the remembered warmth where your lips had touched his cheek.

Prepare them a relaxing bath. Castiel mysteriously pardoned himself the instant you returned from the hunt with Sam and Dean. Convening around the kitchen table, you and the brothers compared notes over well-earned glasses of bourbon.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the empty threshold, ensuring the angel was long gone, “Hey, what the hell is up with Cas anyway?”

“No idea,” Sam rubbed his sore shoulder, grimacing at the way his palm stuck to dried ghoul guts when he pulled away.

Sam and Dean both gazed expectantly at you for an answer.

“What are you looking at me for?” You shrugged, downing a swig of the deliciously numbing amber liquor.

Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “He’s been following you around like a lost puppy for weeks.”

“You’re telling us you haven’t noticed?” Sam added, a smirk curling his mouth.

“What are you talking about? You sure you two don’t have concussions? That ghoul whacked you both pretty good before I ganked him and saved your asses,” you scowled, trying to deflect the inquiry. Cas had been acting strangely around you lately - you couldn’t deny it. You also couldn’t deny you enjoyed the extra attention, and since you hadn’t quite reconciled what that meant to you, you weren’t exactly inclined to talk about it. Finishing off your bourbon, you set the glass down with a loud clank, “Dibs on the shower. I might even leave you boys some hot water.” You disappeared into the hall without another word.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam grinned once your footsteps faded.

“Cas totally wants to hit that ass,” Dean smirked knowingly.

Sam rolled his eyes, “Dude, it’s not always about sex.”

“What?” Dean leered, green eyes sparkling mischievously, “Have you seriously not had dreams about what it would be like to-”

Sam smacked his brother on the chest, effectively silencing him, “It’s more than that. It’s obvious Cas loves Y/N and Y/N loves him, and I’m pretty sure neither one of them knows it’s mutual.”

“We could totally be their fairy godfathers and hook them up,” Dean excitedly shook Sam’s arm at the idea, “I can’t wait to see what you turn into at midnight.”

“We’re staying out of it,” Sam snorted a laugh, “and obviously you’d turn into a squirrel.”

Castiel scattered fresh rose petals across the steaming surface of the filled claw foot bathtub. He discovered this locked chamber in his late-night solitary sojourns into the unexplored depths of the bunker. Based on the variety of demonic torture objects lining the walls and sigils etched into the tiled floor and ceiling, he surmised the original function of the room to be related to the performance of exorcisms. Of course, he’d cleared all of that paraphernalia from the space, leaving none of the original items save the stark white claw foot bathtub centered in the room. Striking a match, he lit the wicks of several lavender-scented pillar candles circling the inviting bath, switching off the overhead lights to complete the relaxing ambiance. He fluffed an oversized towel on the chair beside the tub, studying the scene one final time to ensure everything was perfect. Satisfied it was exactly the relaxation you deserved after the trials of the latest hunt, he ventured off to find you, leaving a trail of rose petals in his wake for you to follow.

You never made it to the showers. You got only as far as your bedroom, hastily stripping to your underwear, collapsing wearily on the comforter and succumbing to exhaustion.

It was there Castiel found you. There, where he covered your unconscious half naked body with a blanket, careful to tuck you in snug, two fingers barely swiping across your blood spattered forehead to safeguard against unpleasant dreams and bid you goodnight. There, where he gazed through the open door as he departed, hesitating to close it and lose sight of your peaceful countenance. There, where he resigned himself to the thought that maybe angels were never meant to love, not in the way he loved you.

Rising in the morning, legs hanging limply over the edge of the mattress, wiping the vestiges of restful sleep from your eyes with the backs of your fists, you noticed a contrast of red speckling the floor – leading a curious trail from the bed to the door. Hopping down, you plucked a withered petal from the floor, rubbing it between your fingers the unmistakable scent of rose tickling your nose. You followed the curious trail of petals into the hall, winding down the halls and staircases, ending outside a shut cast iron door. Your fingers caught the circular pull at the center of the black door, heaving it open to reveal a pitch black room, the strong smell of lavender rushing past you to fill the hall. Groping along the inside wall, you flipped a switch, lights flickering on to reveal hardened mountains of candle wax circling a long tepid bath.

Kiss them when they least expect it. Castiel was nowhere to be found in the bunker. Sam and Dean had not seen him since the previous night. Your repeated attempts to call him quickly revealed that wherever he went, he left behind his cell phone in the library. You paced the library, staring at the locked screen of the angel’s phone. You typed out the word password in hopes he approached his phone’s security as literally as he handled almost everything else in his life. No such luck. Two more attempts remaining.

Sam frowned pitiably at you over his laptop screen. Blatantly ignoring his previous advice to Dean about not interfering, he cleared his throat, “Try your name.”

You stopped up short, tensely worrried gaze flying to Sam, “What?”

“Your name,” Dean echoed, shaking his head askance at his brother, muttering under his breath, “I thought we were staying out of it.”

“Staying out of what?” You made your way to the table, glowering between the brothers.

“Just try your name,” Sam sighed.

Narrowing your eyes skeptically, you typed your name. It worked. The home screen opened to a browser link listing ways to show someone you love them. The list was a play by play of the sweet things Castiel had been doing for you lately, everything except –

A hand firmly grasped your shoulder, spinning you dizzyingly around, a strong arm sweeping around your waist to hold you steady as you clutched at blurry fistfuls of familiar tan fabric. Before you could regain your bearings, warm pliant lips settled against yours – their movement at first slow and sensual, reassuring but insistent like the fingers gently kneading at the small of your back. You recognized the shade of blue of the eyes so closely gazing back into yours, the potent charged scent of angelic grace filling your nostrils as you inhaled a shaking dazed breath. Eyelids fluttering shut, you dissolved in Castiel’s embrace, lips parting with a moan to savor the intoxicating honeyed taste of his tongue as he deepened the kiss.

Palm smoothing over the delicate flesh of your neck, fingers gliding to twist in your hair, the angel poured all of the meaning behind his failed intentions at demonstrating the depth of his love for you into that single passionate unexpectedly perfect first kiss.

#castiel x you #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #castiel x y/n #castiel reader insert #castielxreader #castielxyou #cas x reader #cas x you #castiel oneshot #castiel fanfiction #castiel #spn fluff #spn reader insert #castiel imagine #castiel drabble #cricket writes cas

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