#bidness stuf

[shitpostdevil]

Y'all Im ordering butterfly and snowflake photo card sleeves for my Akaza, shinobu and kanao photo cards and I'm actually so excited about it

[heyimkana]

a little context:

yuuji's VA voices a guy named Haruto in this track. he's dating his childhood friend Souta (you'll notice that he keeps moaning souta's name) and they've been dating behind our back for a while (yes, we're actually involved in the story lol). what's happening here is basically they're having sex in the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, while we're secretly listening to them doing it from the bedroom 😳

I will post bottom gumi soon 😇

[squidinkarchives]

Vintage 1987 "Wooly The Ram" Moving Toy, Iwaya Corp Source: Mount Kisco, NY The Benefit Shop Foundation, Inc.

[knifegremliin]

this thing is literally the tbh creature

[evandore]

never shared it but look at these little matching mice i got off ebay..they are soooo cute. there was a third but it was kind of scary so it was banished downstairs

[autism-corner]

omg im so excited....

[thargelalia]

see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?” 

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care. 

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace. 

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory. 

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble. 

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course. 

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him. 

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!” 

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes. 

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it. 

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.” 

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.” 

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air. 

He lowers it, closing his mouth. 

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride. 

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”  

There’s a shocked gasp. 

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips. 

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.” 

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?” 

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?” 

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile. 

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.” 

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

[comatosebunny09]

sparkler | sylus

— summary: quietly, he plucks your glass from betwixt your fingers to set it down. fixes you with a look that’s both fragile and intense, his breath fanning over your inflamed skin. taking up your hand, he gently splays your fingers over his chest where his heart beats a war cadence. his voice is barely above a whisper, lips quivering. “what will it take for me to convince you that this heart races solely for you?” — cw: written with female reader in mind, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fluffy romantic filth, praise, language, alcohol use, i'm half awake rn so forgive me if i miss any warnings, mdni — wc: ~3k — notes: inspired by @leighsartworks216 and the only for love c-drama. thank you so much for reading! — now playing: merry-go-round of life - morunas fade - the driver era

New Year’s is a time for celebration—an occasion to usher in fresh beginnings and bountiful blessings. To reflect on things past and to look forward to the future.

You didn’t want to spend such a significant time alone.

So, naturally, you link up with a friend to herald in the new year over hotpot and cold beers.

The pair of you meander down the moon-laden street toward your apartment, arms linked together. You’re giggling and gossiping, tucked cozy in your coats, shielded from the wintry chill. Bags of ingredients crinkle in your hands, waiting to be cooked and consumed.

You’re indebted to her for sparing some time for you.

Sure, you could’ve easily watched the fireworks from your balcony by yourself. But you’re tired of being alone. You decided to make a change, shedding your reclusive shell. Just because you couldn’t get everything you wanted didn’t mean you had to shut yourself out from living.

Caught up in your thoughts, you hardly notice your friend slowing to a stop. You glance at her, your cheeks aching with a smile.

“What’s up?” you chuckle, studying her stunned expression.

Her lips quiver, eyes widening a fraction. You nudge her with your elbow, trying to draw her out of whatever trance she’s fallen into.

“That your man?” she teases once she’s broken free, a smirk spreading across her face.

“What are you talking about?”

Following her line of sight, you finally understand what has her so shell-shocked.

In the middle of the street, against the sleek outline of a car, sits a familiar shock of white. He commands attention without trying to, a towering presence with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and a smile rounding his lips. His scarlet gaze is tuned to you. Mirthful as he takes you in, frost adorning his black turtleneck.

You’re rooted to the spot. It is your friend’s turn to chuckle. She gently pats your arm, slipping out of your grasp.

“Looks like you don’t need me anymore.”

With that, she eases out of frame, bidding you goodnight, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as she walks past the focal point of your evening.

Left to your own devices, you strangle the bags of food in your hands. Gaze falls to the ground, and you awkwardly shift your weight between your feet.

He’s the last person you expected to see tonight. Figured he had more important matters to attend to instead of showing up on your doorstep on New Year’s Eve.

You wanted to spend the night with him more than anything. Hoped you could. But you knew that was wishful thinking. You knew where you stood in his life, knew your place. It was no longer by his side. You more so played the role of a supporting character these days, quietly watching him from the sidelines.

However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the tips of his shoes cut into frame. You peer up at him, your heart racing, your mouth slightly ajar, plumes of frosted breath forming between you. He’s wordless as he brushes your fingers with his, plucking the convenience store bags from your hands.

He motions to the entrance of your complex with a nod. Starts towards the door, not waiting for your response. And you toddle after him once your legs remember the art of movement.

—

Two glasses clink together in a celebratory fashion.

The contents for your hotpot sit unopened on the counter, your beers dripping with condensation alongside them.

Swathed in the moonlight pouring in from your balcony doors and the idle flicker of scented candles littered throughout your living space, you share a bottle of wine with your company. The red and viscous fluid sloshes about in your glass, reminiscent of the idle stir of his irises as he studies you.

“Sorry if I was interrupting,” he says after taking a swig. The rumble of his voice vibrates in your gut. It’s a pleasant feeling, stirring alongside the alcohol warming your veins. “Had I known you made plans, I would’ve made myself scarce.”

You wave your hand dismissively, a soft chuckle in your throat as you prop your cheek against your palm. “She’ll be alright. Pretty sure she was just hanging out with me out of pity, anyway.”

He hums into his wine glass before taking another sip. You watch with bated breath as his Adam’s apple bobs, your throat dry. He mirrors you with an unguarded smile, elbow settled on your couch’s headrest, temple resting on his knuckles.

Silence stretches between you. Comfortable where it was once tense. He sets his glass on your coffee table. Pats your thigh, his palm warm and possessive, moving along your quad. 

“I honestly can’t think of a better way to spend my night than with you.” His confession catches you off guard. 

You swallow, struggling to find your voice. When it returns to you, you jest to dispel the solemn atmosphere, “Trouble in paradise?” 

It’s too easy to put up that playful front. To tuck the anxious little thing you truly are beneath years of built-up facades.

Sylus snorts, brow quirked, eyes shining with intrigue. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You snicker, your glass poised at your lips. “Well, I don’t know. I figured you would have rather spent your time with…someone else.” That someone else, of course, being one pretty and polite Miss Hunter.

Something in his gaze shifts as your voice peters. He has a faraway look in his eyes before he leans in, the couch cushions squeaking beneath his weight. 

Quietly, he plucks your glass from betwixt your fingers to set it down. Fixes you with a look that’s both fragile and intense, his breath fanning over your inflamed skin. Taking up your hand, he gently splays your fingers over his chest where his heart beats a war cadence.

His voice is husky, lips quivering. “What will it take for me to convince you that this heart races solely for you?”

Your mouth falls slightly open, a delightful thrill shooting through you. You can’t look away, drawn into the crimson whirlpool of his stare. Unconsciously, you lean closer, his lashes bowing as he glances at your lips. If he means what he says, then—

You’re not thinking when you whisper it. Entwined in the spell that’s befallen you, the warmth he exudes, the sincerity in his tone. 

“Kiss me.”

You’ve but a tender hand curving around the nape of your neck and fingers sneaking up into the delicate hairs that reside there as a warning before he acquiesces, luring you into a kiss that sets your chest aflame and siphons the air from your lungs. 

His lips are as soft as the petals they resemble, pressing against yours. Warm and insistent, invoking the barest sound from your throat. He draws back slightly, scrutinizing your features. Searching for any signs of discomfort, quietly offering you an out. But you don’t deter him, your fingers tugging at the fabric of his sweater around his chest. 

He chuckles something enamored. You kiss away his smirk, drunk off the feel of him. Off his taste, his scent. Wine tastes so much better when it comes from him. 

He cautiously pries your mouth open with his tongue, pouring the grittiest sound into you when you grant him the entry he so politely requests. 

The air shifts when his tongue finds yours. They ensnare themselves in a lazy, wet waltz. You pull him impossibly closer, the hard planes of his chest pressed against yours. Your arms intuitively twine around his neck. His palms splay on your hips, mooring you to the spot. 

You trade quieted groans, greedily sucking down air between the dancing of your mouths. It’s all so much, and yet not enough. You want to burrow under his skin. Take up residence in his heart, living there for all eternity. He breaks away from the tempting suction of your mouth with a soft, sticky click. Your head falls back, lids shuttered, when his lips brand the column of your throat.

His kisses are honey-slow. Warm like a mug of hot cocoa on frigid nights. He tugs the neckline of your shirt to the side, mouth sealing around the slope where shoulder meets neck. You exhale shakily, your fingers sifting through his hair. He grazes your flesh with his teeth, companying it with a suck that’s sure to leave pretty petals of green and blue blooming there come morning. 

His name falls from your lips whilst his hands make several expeditions up and down your sides. Map out the contours of your body, stroking over your full thighs. He kisses his way back up to your mouth. Amid the sticky grind of your lips, he rasps,

“You taste so sweet. I knew you would be.”

Your heart flutters. Something pinches in your gut at his praise. His thumbs ease over the outer swell of your breasts. He stokes the embers of desire within you to life, and he hasn’t even taken your clothes off.

Thumbs experimentally graze your pebbled nipples. You jolt, pleasant tingles cresting below the surface of your skin. He bites your lip. Tugs on it, pulling the neediest sound from the dredges of your chest. 

“May I?” he husks, artful fingers at the hem of your sweater. 

You nod drunkenly. Don’t think you could ever say no to him. Not when he’s looking at you like this. Touching you like this, his fingernails igniting a flurry of goosebumps across your skin as they slide over your stomach. He tears the offending garment from your shoulders. Your hair waterfalls around your neck, eyes shining with ardor, lips parted. 

He weighs your breasts in his palms. Kneads them, trapping your nipples beneath the pads of his thumbs. The feeling is amplified through the frailty of your bra. He takes his time, wordlessly appraising you with his hands. Watches you with keen interest, drunk off the moment as well.

“Can I taste you?” he breathes against your lips. How could you deny him when he’s been so considerate thus far? So gentle, handling you like glass? 

You nod, anticipation coagulating in your veins. Suck in a breath when the lace of your bra slides down your nipples. He bunches your bra beneath your bosom. And the crisp air that follows is short-lived, replaced by the hot suction of his mouth. 

His name flows like the sweetest supplication. You throw your head back, bowing into him, fingers tugging at tufts of white. He fastens a hand to the ridges of your spine, keeping you in place. Plucks your other nipple whilst he feasts, a clever tongue fluttering over your peak. He breaks away with a sticky pop to pay your other breast the same homage. You feel like you could die, subjected to his terribly distracting mouth like this. 

You burn hot. Need more. And you’re pulling at the bottom stitching of his turtleneck, trying to pry it off. He chuckles, hearty and full-blooded, leaning back to let you tear it from his shoulders. His mouth is back on your breasts, greedily licking your nipples into the hot cavity of his mouth.

You squirm. Pinch your thighs together to ward off the pleasant pulsing taking place between them. Sylus’ hands roost on your hips. He helps you stand, reluctantly releasing your tit from his mouth. Helps you shimmy out of your jeans, snickering when you stumble to get them off.

Drawing you into his lap by the crooks of your knees, he kisses you anew. Your hands frame his cheeks, your legs bracketing his hips. Your nipples deliciously slide against the rigid pane of his chest. Your cunt drools, slowly staining your panties with arousal, pressed up against the seam of his trousers.

With an arm fastened to your waist and a hand cupping the apple of your ass, he encourages you to grind against him. He guides you into a rhythm. A tortuously slow dance that has you panting, mind reeling, sparkles of white invading your sight. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, hips stuttering, panties sticking to your slit. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth hinged open, irises glazing over with lust. “Do you want me inside you?”

You nod eagerly, your hips moving of their own volition over his lap. You giggle when he suddenly hefts you into his arms one-handed, his effortless display of strength making you pine for him even more.

Your shadows dance along the walls of your hallway as he carries you to your bedroom. He tenderly deposits you onto your crisp comforter once inside, your panties and bra long discarded, and you watch, propped on your elbows, as he unfastens his belt and trousers. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth when you catch sight of him.

Even beneath the low light of your room, he is impressive. Hot and turgid, slapping intimidatingly against his abs. Your mouth waters as he nears you, to which he smirks, a laugh brewing in his chest. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he teases, notching himself between your legs, his forearms locked in the bends of your knees, splitting you nice and open. “You might stroke my ego a little too well, staring like that.”

You can’t help it. You’ve fantasized about him before, his image hijacking your mind when the ache between your legs became unbearable. But your imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. To his body, burning hot beneath the glide of your fingers. To his voice, smooth as whiskey, as he groans from your attention. To the predatory smolder of his eyes, hair falling from its once perfect coiffure into his face. 

He rubs himself against your slit, coating his shaft in your nectar. You share an exhale, a gruff sound out, your thighs quaking. He feels so good when his cock head bumps your clit. Your eyes roll, toes curl. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, thumb finding your clit and massaging it with meticulous arcs. “So good for me. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

You clench around nothing, swiveling your hips to chase the feel of his girth gliding along your nether region. To guide it inside you, your entrance puckering and drooling for him. Solely for him. 

“Sylus, please. Fuck.”

“Do you want me to stop?” It seems he has no intention of doing so, his thumb still sifting through your sticky folds, hips still moving with delicious friction.

“N-no. Never. Fuck. Need you…inside.” 

He takes up your cue, a smile canting his lips. Taps his weighted cock against your sticky cunt a few times before nestling the head into your entrance. And, oh.

“Fuck,” he strains, arms bracketing either side of your head. He slowly eases home, your greedy cunt drawing him in deeper. You cross your ankles at the small of his back, and he props himself on his elbows, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full. Stuffed to the brim, his hips notched up against your inner thighs. He pants from the effort of easing into you, from the effort of not losing himself to the hot suction of your body.

You pull him down into a kiss. Undulate your hips, spurring him to move. He thrusts into you, shallow at first, giving you time to adjust to his girth. Your fingernails bite into his shoulder blades, your pants of discomfort traded for pathetic whimpers for more more more.

He fucks you into the bed thereafter, your headboard cracking against the wall, the air punched from your lungs with each stroke. He folds you in half, your knees pressing into your breasts. This angle forces him deeper, where he unravels the pleasant tangle of nerves budding inside you.

“Unngh, you feel so fucking good,” he lauds, his hips creating a rhythm of their own. “Sucking me in like that. So fucking filthy.”

You clench around him, a sparkling feeling erupting in your gut. Tears scorch the sides of your face. A wail swells in your chest. He angles his head down to kiss them away, to stifle those pretty noises you make for him, swallowing them whole. You’re close, so close, your orgasm sinking its claws into the lining of your stomach and oozing down.

“I’m gonna—gonna cum,” you manage, peering into his eyes, and the amount of affection that resides in his gaze shoves you closer toward that slurry slope.

“Yeah? Gonna cum?” he dotes, the lowered pitch of his voice overwhelming. He fucks you harder, the bed squealing, your eyes screwing shut.

Your orgasm creeps through you, spilling like hot liquid. You grit your teeth against the rush. Spasm, a long, broken moan dragged from your body. With a few more thrusts, he staggers into the void with you, spurred by your tongue curling around his name and your cunt surrounding him like a warm embrace. 

You both start when a series of explosions erupt outside your window. Peer outside, fireworks igniting across the night sky. He looks down at you. Chuckles, sweeping some errant hair from your face as you drift down. Your cheek gathered in his palm, he swoops in for a tender kiss, still nestled inside you, his thumb cruising over the apple of your cheek.

“Happy New Year,” he croons when he parts, eyes shining boyishly, smile affectionate.

You reach up to pull him down by his nape, his weight heavy yet reassuring atop you. “Happy New Year,” you return, equally as enamored. 

As he rests his cheek against yours, the pair of you housed in the safety of each other’s arms, watching the fireworks scatter against the inky sky, you thank whatever higher being had chosen to bless you this New Year’s night. 

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #28

My Beloved

Imagine dis…

You know, I like misunderstandings…

I saw a bunch of prompts that Danny is the mother of Ellie and Dan who is angry and will destroy the world in the future.

I also saw a bunch of prompts of Danny and Phantom separating themselves and acting like two individual beings but having to be in proximity or else there would be consequences.

But I didn’t see anything about combining the two things…

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

…

Daniel “Danny” Fenton knew that he had many powers, that kept on growing and appearing at the heat of the moment. He would sometimes forget how many powers he had due to his never-ending list. He has powers that he likes to use often, like levitation, flight, intangibility, his ghostly wail, and many more… But even he has a favorite, his duplication power.

Unlike Vlad who can create multiple clones of himself to do his bidding, he can only create one.

Now don’t go on and underestimate him just because he can only create one despite Vlad making multiple and who is also a halfa.

…

His clone is unique, when he first discovered this power of his he was all alone in the house full of guns to kill him when a passing thought passed his mind. Wes was getting on his nerves with how he adamantly tried to prove that he was Phantom. He knew the consequences when the people knew the truth, especially his parents, every time he closed his eyes it always showed him and his parents at the other end of the dissecting table.

He kept on saving them, poor animal ghosts who had just stumbled through the portal. He kept on stuffing his face with his pillows just to block out the screams.

He had just blinked, one moment he was all alone and all of a sudden another appeared in front of him.

He was startled at the notion while the clone looked at him with interest.

The clone was not human-HIM per se, but it was the ghostly-HIM aka Phantom but with more ghostly attributes.

Snow white hair that seems to sway, taller by a few feet, pointed ears, fanged teeth, skin so blue, and white freckles that seem to give off a faint glow.

He tried going ghost but was unable to do so, what he can do is a weaker version of flight, intangibility, and invisibility. While Phantom got most if not all of his powers whenever he went ghost.

At first, he was ecstatic with this new power of his not only he can throw people off who are looking too deeply into Phantom’s identity and put an end to Wes’s chatter but with this new power of his he can finally have some sort of normalcy.

But after a few minutes, he began to feel fatigued and nauseous, Phantom slowly moved towards Danny and merged himself with his human half causing a faint white glow all over his body that he got used to whenever he was going ghost.

It was a few minutes, Danny thought to himself, but it was enough to not only create a separation between the kid who always hides in the bathroom or disappears whenever there is a ghost attack and a ghost kid who looks the same age as he and only appears whenever he disappears.

But it was enough.

…

Everything was great, as Phantom was able to deal with the ghosts that constantly invaded his hometown but also, he is slowly bringing his grades up from where it was before the accident. He also created an alibi for himself so people will know that both Phantom and Danny and two separate people.

Both sides were able to go on separated from each other the more time they spent separated

…

After a few days, something also began to change.

Phantom would sometimes make a joke or a quip about death or even puns that made Danny laugh. Phantom would be more serious whenever they got too far from each other, small things that made both Danny and Phantom different from one another from an outside perspective.

Both made a mental connection to each other.

Not like romantically, but more of a deep platonic love for each other.

Devotion to each of their other halves. So deep that one might double-take whenever they saw the two.

Danny loves his friends and family but even they cannot understand him ever since the day of the accident. Jazz blessed his sister’s soul, who read every book in every existence known to man and tried to help him. But the thing is, those books are for humans, not ghosts, and especially not for someone like him.

He died and came back to life knowing instinctively that something was wrong with him. He stands in between life and death. He knew he died and felt every bolt of electricity that had killed him. He who had to sit still at the dinner table listening to their parents who were supposed to love them, listened in great detail to what they would do to Phantom when they had caught him. 

But Phantom, Phantom instinctively knew how he felt and heard his thoughts. When rough days came to Danny, Phantom quietly appeared behind him and offered his silent support.

Both needed each other to live, without the other one cannot survive on their own.

Phantom, when got too far and separated from his human for far too long got reckless, angry, cold, merciless, and ruthless. Nocturn got the burnt of it despite knowing that Phantom held back.

And Danny?

Got too emotional, and detached, and has that far-away look on his face. He would space out an entire war or destruction surrounding and he still would not notice.

Both are each other’s anchor and rock. And when both become one and become Phantom together then they will be unstoppable.

…

When Danny became the Ghost King it was clear they needed to separate often due to the amount of paperwork that was left pilling when Pariah Dark was in charge.

It became domestic, Danny thought as he paused for a bit when he was trying to write a book report from the Lord of the Rings courtesy of Mr. Lancer. Add the latest guests in his room he thought as he took a look at the sleeping and cuddled up Dan and Ellie who are now freshly de-aged due to some circumstances.

When Danny tried to explain to the two halves the reason why he and Phantom seemed to separate or why he was using this power of his almost every day.

Dan and Ellie seem the only two who didn’t feel weird at his new predicament. Both de-aged ghosts after a sudden bad melting episode and the start of someone’s redemption arc called human Danny is their mom while Phantom is their dad.

Danny at first surprised at the title given by the two but asked playfully to the twins why is he the mom. Phantom who was trying to cuddle the two de-aged ghosts whom he saw as his children at this point and his human counterpart mumbled about whether was it the time when he went and juggled flaming diapers or mastered the art of the 'mom stare' that could freeze a room?

Danny who is still in a bad mood from Dash’s bullying earlier snarked back at Phantom on how he got the dad title. Did he accidentally perfect the art of 'dad dancing' during ghostly gatherings? or accidentally stumble into a dad joke competition?

Sam, often would joke that if she didn’t know better, she would think the two would be lovers which would be found in Paulina’s A03 account and history.

Now that spread like wildfire, it spread faster than Wes could say Danny is Phantom. Now both GIW and his parents are out to get him for two different reasons… One Phantom mind controlled their precious son and now locked up Danny for his “own good” and two he was called a so-called “traitor” to his race as he fell in love with a creature who was not even sentient.

As things slowly went out of hand, Danny had to physically drag Phantom, who had been clawing and gripping to Danny like a lifetime ever since Danny told him to stay at the Infinite Realms for their safety, to a portal with the two children who have their eyes puffed red as they say their farewells to each other.

…

The JL is now confused, they kept seeing the same teen on the loose that appeared in various cities such as Metropolis, Central, Star City, and many more, with various government agents tailing him and trying to capture him.

At first, they thought it was another of Walker’s programs, in which they kidnap various kids who have a powerful meta ability to be part of a group that directly answers to the government.

But when it was revealed that he is another son of Bruce Wayne, it became personal.

Could it be another ploy to gain the Wayne enterprise through a much older and miniature appearance of Bruce Wayne, is it another ploy to gain Bruce Wayne’s wealth and money… They might never know.

…

Batman aka Bruce Wayne publicly announced that he had found another son who was rummaging in the trash of Gotham City, this way those mysterious agents could not publicly go after him as Danny had been publicly broadcasted and the manor is equipped with the latest security known to man.

Danny is very skittish the Batfam concluded, as if every move and twitch they made is something Danny should be wary of. Danny was too distracted to be sad, and have little to no energy to even join Dick and the rest of his siblings to bond over something.

However, that didn’t stop them from forming some sort of familial bond with Danny despite him being too guarded and too wary to get close to the family.

However, it all changed on a random day, as the entire noticed his change of mood. No longer the wariness, anxiety, and nervousness they encountered daily. Each of them began asking around within themselves if they were the one who made a change to Danny, even Alfred didn’t know who or what made him turn a 180.

Of course, when they tried to ask COUGH to interrogate COUGH Danny, he just kept quiet and smiled shyly.

..

Night comes and all the Bats are gathered at the cave to discuss what made Danny to be in a good mood before their patrol.

As they were just about to leave for their shift when Oracle notified them Danny leaving the manor.

Of course, all of them immediately followed him and followed him to a tall abandoned building with Danny sitting giddily on top of the said building. Of course, some of them have some dark thoughts about Danny sitting on top of a warehouse and seeming near the edge. One of the Bat broods is ready to interfere if Danny even makes any signs.

But all thoughts were thrown out as a crack seemed to tear through reality appeared behind Danny, Danny on the other hand looked ecstatic. As the tear/ crack opened up there they saw an underworldly being donned with a crown that is covered in various jewels, an outfit and cape fit for an emperor, and eyes that reminded them of the Lazarus pits.

Just as the moment they tried to calm their hearts down, Danny flung himself towards the unknown being and cried out beloved, the said being caught Danny and twirled him around.

Both are in their little world as they both keep laughing and hugging each other.

The Bat family who are still in the shadows kept their eyes on the two as they wanted to get Danny away from someone that made their instincts go haywire. Batman and Robin are both especially to grab Danny away from that thing.

Both the being and Danny finally settled down and began chatting to each other with little to no distance between the two. The being then summoned a basket that was full of unique and exotic food and then shared it with their new brother.

Then Danny suddenly asked about the kids, What kids!!! EVERYONE thought when suddenly two black blurs went and tackled Danny down, knocking the air out of him.

As the kids stopped hugging Danny, they all held their breaths, they looked like the perfect copy of Danny. Black hair and blue eyes, both kids exclaimed Danny as their mom while they pouted at the being and called him dad about hoarding their mom.

The reunited “family” began chatting about how they were at each other, more on the beings asking how Danny is especially doing.

Danny chatted about how the Waynes are too good for him and how he informed Batman since the Bats have a very close relationship with the Waynes. When one of the kids why mom needs to talk to Batman, Danny just casually reveals a bombshell on the Anti-Ecto laws, GIW, The Infinite realms...etc. So that both mom and dad could get together again, as mom aka Danny is trying everything to stop the war from the living world while their dad tries to stop the war from the Realms.

As they were chatting and catching up to one another, Danny looked at his wristwatch and told the kids that he had to get going or else the Waynes might notice that he snuck out. Both kids immediately cried and gripped Danny while the other being also known as dad didn’t even try to pry the kids off from Danny as he too wanted to stay with the human.

Of course, Danny gently pried off the three hands that were gripping and immediately one of the kids threw a tantrum at how Danny was not safe and might get him killed if he stayed there and Danny should just go with them. Of course, Danny shook his head and told the kid that Mommy was doing everything he could to protect both of them also he might not want to admit it in front of the Wayne but he did grow on them, like a fungus he can’t remove.

And so, the trio left the building after one last look and hug from Danny, Danny immediately lost the small life and cheerfulness that he had when he was meeting them and silently went back to the manor.

…

This made the Bat clan scramble to fix everything, all the while competing for the favorite uncle and aunt title while both Bruce and Alfred engage in their silent war for the grandpa title, when they showed their findings to the League both Booster Gold and the Flask stood up white as paper.

They claimed at the picture of Danny, that he may be the one who destroyed the future, but looked a little confused as some traits that they remembered were not on Danny which made them speculate that maybe he grew into. But when the two-time travelers explained in great detail his appearance, it matched the appearance of their nephew.

Is this the reason why Dan turned evil, humans have killed his family leaving him both angry and devastated that he let the world know of his pain?

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I posted a bit early, I got a bunch of people to do and things to see. So uhh, bye-bye!

PPPS: This one got too long for my liking...

[chkchkji]

🎄 skz as christmas tropes.

requested: yes / no ── ★ includes: fluff, christmas tropes, platonic relationships & some flirting. headcanons under the cut.

🎄 read more?

chan takes his mistletoe very seriously. is he a bit cowardly for resorting to this in his bid to get your attention? probably. does he care? not really. he's tripping over his feet to 'accidentally' stand underneath one of it with you. "oh nooo," he'll say with fake sympathy; his hands tucked in his hoodie, his smile all fake innocent. "guess we have to kiss now. it's the rule, you know?"

between the two of you, minho is the one better at wrapping gifts. he's a master at it, actually. all tight corners and perfect bows. he's just a little smug about his gift-wrapping skills. while he may first tease you for not being at his level, he'll always be ready to do the task for/with you— yes, even the weirdly-shaped, circular gifts.

changbin never knew that designing ornaments could be so fun. he'd always assumed that christmas tree decorating would be the most boring part of the holidays, but he finds himself immensely enjoying the little arts and crafts moment that the two of you have going on. whether or not he cares to admit it, he finds himself daydreaming of a christmas tree full of decor handmade by the two of you.

something about hyunjin is just 'first snow'-coded. it's the art of turning a mundane afternoon into something special. when that first snowflake lands on your eyelashes, he's already giggling to himself at how romantic all of it is. he will attempt to play it cool, to not let on just how amused he is at this turn of events, but deep down he's so damn happy to share this with you.

jisung knows he's not good at this whole gingerbread house thing. he's a bit too heavy-handed for it, doesn't really have the eye for aesthetic that other people might. but he's patient, and he can middlingly follow the instructions on the kit's rule book, and he loves you. so he'll sit down and make the house with you if it means making you smile.

felix's lack of self restraint may have him tearing through advent calendars way too fast, but at least he tries to make up for it. it's just like him to do something craftsy to get back in your favor. he broke his back to weave together the delicate beaded jewelry he knows you'll like; seeing you wear and enjoy it is a present in itself.

while seungmin may act exasperated over all the fanfare and festivities, he has to admit that some of the stuff are cute. dressing up stuffed toys and pets in yuletide garb is surprisingly on that list. he'll probably grumble about your matching ugly christmas sweaters but then ask to take a bajillion photos once the two of you have donned it.

"surprise?" jeongin will say cheekily. maybe he's sitting in an oversized box. maybe he's got a ribbon tied over his head. either way, his whole shtick is clear: he's your present this year. it's silly and cliché, he knows, but he'll go through the theatrics if it draws a laugh out of you.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖: ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕚𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dom!rafe, switch!reader, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, age gap (college senior rafe x young professor), icky rafe at the beginning, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, teasing, oral male receiving, orgasm denial, light bdsm

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This is a combination of a few similar asks. The premise is that Rafe Cameron is nothing but trouble in class, and when his professor sees that the frat house is auctioning date nights for charity, she can’t help but place her bid.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

Your heels click down the aisle of the large lecture hall, surveying the crowd of students; a packed house, row upon row of upperclassman seated about. Turning on your heels, you look toward the back row, empty per usual, soon to be filled at 5 minutes past the hour was a horde of rowdy frat boys.

The door swings open right on cue, a line of them falling in, their president holding up the back. He smiles at you, giving you a lazy grin as he skims his fingers through his hair.

Rafe didn't just come into class late; he barely paid attention, wrote nothing in his notebook, cracked jokes with his brothers, and took a little naps when the night before had gotten too out of hand.

Then there was the way he looked at you on those specific days—the days when he was feeling rather bold and unashamed. He’d shoot his shot, talking to you like some girl he was hitting on at the bar.

“Can’t focus on shit when you look so pretty, professor y/n.”

“I’m tryin’ to raise my grade, professor y/n. Is participation based on how much I pay attention to you?”

“I get nervous when you say my name, professor y/n. The answer just slipped my mind. I'm sorry. M’paying attention… I swear.”

The smug smile never leaves his face as he speaks. And you’d be a liar if you said his little passes didn't make your heart flutter, but each advance was brushed aside or met with a cold, professional response that only made him more determined.

Students started to filter out, but he stayed back, wanting to “challenge a recent grade.” No one believed him, including his brothers. He pushed them toward the door as they snickered and gossiped about Rafe getting you alone.

Rafe walks toward the front, hands stuffed in his jeans, his t-shirt stretched across his chest and arms, his muscular body straining the fabric. He wipes his hand across his smirk when you look up at him, giving him the attention he was craving you would.

"Great lecture, Professor y/n," he smiles as he shuffles closer.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron. If only you’d listened,” you quip, your eyes scanning over your attendance sheet, making notes for daily participation.

Rafe chuckles at the joke, moving within arm's reach. You look up toward the door, checking to see if you are alone, butterflies filling your stomach when you notice you are.

“Hey, I listen,” he scoffs, playing along with the game you shouldn't have played in the first place. “Sometimes I just get distracted,” Rafe smiles as his eyes fall to the hem of your pencil skirt, working their way back to your eyes far too slowly.

Your heart starts to race under the weight of his gaze. “Getting too distracted is gonna get you in trouble-”

“I hope so,” he smiles, cutting you off, twisting your words in the process.

You roll your eyes as you reach for your coat and book bag. “Mr. Cameron, I’m not just some girl, and I'm your professor-”

“Oh, I know,” he smiles, butting in again as he steps closer. His eyes fall to your tits as your back arches unintentionally while you slip your arm into your jacket.

“I don't know what game you're playing, but I need to get to my next class if you have nothing to ask me.”

"No games, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot to him. “Sorry. Damn, m’sorry… Professor y/n,” he corrects himself, dragging out your title for emphasis. “No games,” he assures you as you step past him, walking toward the exit. You turn over your shoulder, Rafe’s blue eyes lifting from your ass to your sharpened gaze. “I am good at games, Professor y/n. If you wanna play sometime-”

“Goodbye, Rafe,” you dismiss him with a cold bite. You hear a few laughs from behind the door you're walking toward, making the heat of embarrassment pool in your cheeks.

You push into the hallway, moving quickly to your next class. The university’s bustling with students, the noise occupying what little space you have left, your mind consumed with thoughts of Rafe and what happened.

You turn the corner, weaving past the line in front of the coffee shop, slowing when you see the neon sign tapped against the wall.

HoliDate - Omega Beta Chi Fraternity Charity Auction

Win a Date with the men of ΩBX to support Charleston Children’s Hospital this Holiday Season

You sit in the back row of the theater, watching each of the frat boys strut out onto the stage one by one.

Rafe Cameron. He steps out onto the stage, dressed in a fitted black suit, making you swoon. He runs his fingers through his hair, his classic backward hat gone. He looks devilishly handsome—quickly flashing a cocky smile at the audience, making the catcalling and applause crescendo. You look around, watching phones glow as people rapidly scan their QR codes, prepping to place bids.

“And next, Senior and Omega Beta Chi President Rafe Cameron, everyone. HoliDate bidding starts at $100…”

The crowd blows past the opening bid in seconds. Your heart pounds as the offers climb: $200, $300, $400. You look down at your phone and type your own: $500.

"$600," the auctioneer calls, someone outbidding before you can even react.

$700. You punch in the number and hold your breath, waiting for someone to counter it again. The auctioneer looks down at his iPad, then to the crowd, counting down. "Sold! To our anonymous bidder!”

You stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the keys as you think of what to do next. You leave your name anonymous, providing your cell phone number instead.

Your phone buzzes in your purse as you walk out to your car. You rummage for it quickly, pulling it out of your bag; looking down at the message from Rafe.

Rafe: Hi, sweetheart

You: Hi!

Rafe: So, what do you want to do tonight? I'm all yours.

Rafe: I’m up for anything.

You: Meet me at eight at 5th and Main. Don't be late ♥️

"Professor y/n?" Rafe calls, a hint of disbelief in his voice as his head turns from left to right, scanning the street as he steps closer.

“Mr. Cameron,” you smile up at him.

“Umm… Are you, uh-”

“Waiting for a cab,” you cut him off. The excitement in his face falls fast. “And you.”

“And me?” Rafe asks. His blue eyes widen on yours as he fights back a sweeping smile. “Well, shit…”

“Is that okay?” You ask.

“You kiddin’ me?” He answers fast as his eyes fall lower, catching a hint of red satin peeking out of your peacoat. “This is perfect,” Rafe softens his tone as he steps closer. “So, where are we goin’?”

“Well, we can take the cab to The Rex,” you offer, mentioning the new restaurant downtown, “or you can come over for dinner and drinks at my house if you’d like.”

He smiles—a blush creeping across his cheek, enough so that he has to look away for a moment to collect himself. “We can go to your place, Miss…” He draws out the word, waiting for you to give him your name. You smile sweetly, stepping a little closer, and you swear you can hear his heartbeat in his chest.

“Y/n.” He echoes your name gently like it's the prettiest thing he’s heard. You look to your left, watching the cab slow-roll to a stop. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, ushering you to the car before helping you inside.

The ride is short—only a few blocks. You make light conversation with him, surprised with how well it's going considering how he is in class—a very different man than when he’s in front of his brothers, charming even. You rest your hand on his thigh as he tells a joke, making his eyes flicker down. He smiles at the contact before looking back up at you.

“You look different,” he whispers.

“Different good or different bad?” You ask with a slight tip of the head and a breathy laugh that has him resting his hand on top of yours.

“Good," he smiles. “So fuckin’ good.”

“Different, though. How so?” You ask curiously, and he wets his lip, looking down at yours.

“You’re smilin’ at me. You don't usually do that…”

The cab rolls to a stop, and Rafe opens the door, helping you out before walking with you to your downtown apartment.

Rafe’s eyes float around the space as you guide him inside. The house’s decorated for the holidays; just a few things here and there. The table is set for two, with a bottle of champagne on ice.

“Holy shit,” he smiles as he rocks back on his heels slightly, coming to the conclusion that you wanted this more, your house set just in case he’d say ‘yes’. Rafe unbuttons his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders, leaving him in a fitted white button-down. He watches you closely, desperate to see what’s under your peacoat after getting a taste before. You untie the belt, taking your jacket off as well.

Rafe stands across from you—air filling his lungs as he tries to hold tight his usual confidence, failing miserably.

His blue eyes fix on you, wide and unblinking, tracing every line of your red dress, studying you, taking it all into memory. Rafe swallows hard, stumbling slightly as he kicks off one dress shoe, then the other.

You turn around, strolling toward the dining room, grabbing the champagne.

You over your shoulder just like you did this afternoon after class; Rafe’s eyes shift higher—the hunger in his eyes unmistakable.

“Champagne?” You ask, your voice smooth and teasing as you catch him in the act.

He opens his mouth to respond, but the words get caught on his tongue. Rafe laughs nervously, raking his hand through his hair, trying to recall your simple question.

“Champagne,” you smile, repeating the word.

“Yeah… Yes. Uhh—please,” he stammers, his voice wavering in a way it hasn’t before. You pour yourself a glass, then Rafe, the two of you, watching as the bubbles sparkle, tumbling over the side. “You look…” Rafe clears his voice, fluttering his lashes as he tries to compose himself.

“Yes?” You ask as you step a little closer, passing him the glass.

“You look stunning, y/n… I mean, you’re always beautiful-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, letting out a breathless laugh. “You’re makin’ me nervous.”

“You have a way of doing that to me, too,” you answer sweetly.

The doorbell rings; the food you ordered arrives just in time. The two of you sit together, discussing life and plans. Liquor flows, loosening the both of you up; Rafe pops a second bottle of bubbly for the two of you.

“Cheers,” he lifts his glass, making you do the same.

“Cheers,” you smile as you click your glass against his, taking a small sip as he moves closer.

“So…”

”So,” you breathe as you look up at him.

“Why me?” He asks as he leans in a little more. Rafe’s warm cologne fills your nose— the heat of his body so close makes your pulse spike.

“Why do you think?” You question, throwing the query back to him. He hesitates and smirks, cheeks flushing again, wanting to say the right thing.

"’Cause you wanted to see me outside of class?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure.

“Mhmm… I wanted to see if you were the Rafe Cameron everyone sees in class or if that was just some act you were putting on for everyone.”

His brows pinch together, confusion painted over his pretty face. “M’not that bad,” he mumbles against the rim of his glass as the corners of his lips curl into a slight smile.

“I beg to differ, Mr. Cameron.”

He cocks his eyebrow as you get back to the basics, using his last name instead of his first. “Why else am I here, Professor y/n?” He asks, his voice hoarse and hungry as he moves even closer.

“Well, I think you need to learn a lesson…”

Rafe swallows hard, his face mere inches from you as his rough hand trails up your bare thigh, disappearing slightly under the satin. "What kind of lesson?" He whispers needily as his eyes fall slightly, locking on your lips again.

You take your finger, hook it under his chin, guiding his gaze to yours. “The kind of lesson where you learn respect,” you smile as your hand rests on his upper thigh, moving higher and higher. He takes a little breath, letting out a soft groan. “Boundaries,” you whisper as your fingers trace around his rock-hard cock, strained against the zipper. “And discipline,” you pull your hand away with a smile. Rafe expels the breath he was holding, his eyes softening in desperation.

”Please,” he mumbles as you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth and cheek, leaning into his ear as he wraps his arms around you, needing you closer.

Your teeth scratch against the shell of his ear as your hands roam his broad chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and quick breathing under your palm. “What do you want, Mr. Cameron-”

“You,” he answers hastily. “I want you, Professor y/n.”

“Good boy.”

You step off the couch and walk toward your bedroom, smiling as he follows you close. Rafe steps toward you, chest pressed against your back, tucking himself into your neck as his hands grab your hips. You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your skin. He releases a shaky breath, not wanting to kiss you without permission, hoping to get what he needs and fast.

You can tell by his hold and how he carries himself that he isn’t used to giving over control. But, Rafe Cameron wants nothing but to get back in your good graces…

You wrap your fingers around the red satin bow around your waist, tugging it loose. Letting it slip through your fingers, as you turn around, looking up at him.

His gaze falls to your hands, seeing the ribbon. “You look nervous, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice a soft purr, pulling his focus back to your eyes as you toss it to the bed.

"No, Professor. I—” his words trail away as he hears the pull of your zipper, the satin material falling to a puddle at your feet, leaving you in nothing but red lace.

“You just what?” You ask as you step closer, fingering the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he mumbles.

You smile as you pull his shirt off his broad shoulders, working on his pants next. “Flattery won't get you out of trouble, Mr. Cameron."

He shakes his head, eyes rolling back in his head as he watches you lower yourself to your knees, grabbing his dress slack and pulling them off. “I’m not tryin’ to get out of trouble. I swear—I,” he groans as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock through his boxers, making his abs flex. “I just can’t stop looking at you,” he breathes, lips parting as your mouth wraps around his thick tip, wetting the fabric. He cups the back of your head, his eyes shutting heavily. “I'll be good. I'll be whatever you want,” he pleads, his voice raw and hoarse.

You wrap your fingers around the band of his boxers, looking up at him with a smile. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Shit—Yes, I’ll be so fuckin’ good. Alright? I promise. Just keep going.”

His breath hitches as you pull down his boxers. You let out a breathy sigh as you see his cock; long and thick, curved slightly, tip pulsing and wet with precum.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his length, making him bite his bottom lip. He watches your every movement, mesmerized as you lean in, tongue swirling and flicking across his tip, making goosebumps spread across his tanned, toned skin.

“Bed,” you smile. Rafe moves quickly, his breathing heavy as he shifts onto your bed. “Grab the rails.” Rafe lifts his arms above his head, gripping the metal tightly, giving you complete control. He continues to study you, the deliberate sway of your hips driving him mad. Grabbing the ribbon, you crawl on top of him, resting your warm, wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding nice and slow. You lean forward, wrapping the soft satin around his wrists, tying it into a pretty little bow.

"You're enjoying this a little too much, Professor," he huffs through a wide smile.

“I could say the same about you.” You lean down for a kiss, hovering just above his lips. Rafe chases your mouth as you pull away, denying him that.

"Look, I get it. You're trying to teach me somethin’, and I deserve it-”

”But what?" You ask in a taunting tone.

"But you're killin’ me," he blurts, tugging against the ribbon, making his big biceps flex. “I’m not used to this? I'm used to bein’ in control.”

Your lips quirk into a smirk. “Oh, I noticed,” you smile as you trace your finger down his chest, through his abs, cutting along his v-lines before teasing his cock, watching him twitch.

"You think you've got me all figured out. Don’t you?”

“I do…” You smile as your nails scratch down his muscular thighs.

"I've been good...”

“We just started,” you whisper against his tip before wrapping your lips around him. Rafe throws his head back into the pillow, pulling against the restraints as you let him slide into your mouth, taking him to the back of your throat.

“Yes, fuckkk…” He groans. “That’s it, baby.”

Rafe looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, watching his thick dick slide between your slick, swollen lips. You moan around his girth, watching the way his eyes roll back at the feeling of the vibrations.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock again, licking a few fat stripes up the bottom of his shaft.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groans, fighting to keep his eyes open as you throat his cock again.

His big hands ball into fists as you start jerking his dick as well, sucking on his tip, making him gasp, his muscles coiling tight.

“Shit. Shit. Shittt,” he grumbles. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth. Hey—” He huffs as you pull off his cock with a wet pop, looking down at him with a wicked smile. “What the fuck?” He pants, his face twisted in frustration.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

His cock pulses—incredibly hard, red and swollen; Rafe, just seconds away from cumming down your throat. "You want to teach me a lesson? Fuckin’ fine. But let's stop pretendin’ this is just about that. Aight? You need me,” he grunts. “$700 for a lesson, bullshit. You want me to take care of you. Let me fuckin’ go.”

“Or what?”

"What are you teachin’ me a lesson for anyways? It’s not my fuckin’ fault. Alright? It’s yours… It’s the only way I can get your attention. You’ve been drivin’ me crazy all fuckin’ semester," he huffs, his voice low and rough. "Every time I piss you off, I get your attention; every time I come in late, your eyes are on me. And when I don’t pay attention, you call me out by name—I can't stop thinkin’ about you. Ain’t that what you want, Professor y/n. Fuckin’ sue me for wanting your attention.”

“There are other ways to get my attention, Rafe,” you whisper through a soft smile.

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it,” he counters. “I think it's my time to take charge." Rafe looks up, seeing the end of the red bow, quickly catching it between his teeth, tugging at it fast, making your heart race as he yanks himself the rest of the way out. He rolls you to your back, lips crashing against yours for the first time in a deep, passionate kiss.

Rafe crushes you under his big body, taking complete control. Your hands reach around him, gripping his big shoulders. He deepens the kiss, fingers digging into your skin.

He pulls back slightly, licking his lips in anticipation, rubbing his cockfat head around your aching hole before pushing inside. You moan in pleasure— the both of you watching as your wet pussy pulls him in.

You throw your head back on the pillow, body reeling, pleasure coursing through your veins at how deliciously he fills you up. You grab his big biceps as he picks up the pace, nails driving into his skin.

“So fuckin’ tight…” He groans. “God, you’re wet.”

Rafe cups the back of your head, steering you to look at the space between the two of you, watching his thick cock pound into you fast—your arousal slicked and glistened between rough thrusts.

Your lips brush against his as you claw at his back, pulling him closer, making him fuck you even deeper than before as your body tightens around him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, raspy and thick.

“Yes. Fuck,” you whimper.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuckin stop, Professor y/n. Good news for you, I wanna fill up this pretty pussy.”

“Don’t stop. Please,” you cry.

He picks up the rhythm, thrusting into you faster and harder.

"Then you better come for me. Yeah? Show me what a good girl you can be,” he growls in your ear, taking back the power he lost. “Think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

His name leaves your lips in a broken sob as you cum around his cock; toes curling, back arching, tits pressing into his muscular chest. Rafe’s hips stutter, filling you to the brim as he continues to pound into your warm, wet cunt.

He nuzzles into you, kissing along your neck as you come down from your high together.

Rafe draws a deep breath as he pulls back, claiming your lips in a tender kiss. "Did you learn anything?" You giggle between breathless kisses, making him smile against your lip.

"No… Didn’t learn shit," he mutters. “Good thing we’re just gettin’ started.

[rinhaler]

Yooo, your plug!sukuna x reader fic has got me so feral imgggg

And it got me thinking

imagine Yuuji and Sukuna double teaming you???

this is not canon buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut... it is hot so hope u like this hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest (itadori bro's sharing u), double penetration (one hole), degradation, praise, cheating mention, bruising, hair pulling, oral fixation, daddy kink mention, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 1.1k

“B-Baby I- fuck. How could y-ou? Fuck him of all- all people?” Yuuji wonders, fingers gripping into your sides deeply. You’re bound to bruise. With the way he’s fucking you and squeezing into your supple flesh, you can practically feel the broken blood vessels forming purple blooms with every thrust into your squelching cunt.

It isn’t deliberate.

He just wants you to remember who you belong to.

“’m sorry!” you cry, tears pelting down onto the mattress below as he batters your interior again and again. “I didn’t mean t’ fuck him.. I didn’t—!”

“Aht aht. None of that,” Sukuna speaks, his fingers lacing through your hair and yanking enough to elicit a pained yelp from you. Your eyes shimmer as you they reflect the stare of red irises that have become so easy to manipulate you. “Wasn’t like that when you were crying for me to ruin you, was it? In fact…” he pulls out his phone and quickly finds the home made sex tape he’d made without asking.

“D-Don’t…” you sob, though you don’t have it in you to really fight him. He pushes his thumb by the seam of your lips in a bid to shut you up. And in your cock drunk, dazed state, you begin to suck like a baby with a pacifier. You clench around Yuuji as the video begins to play and you hear how loud you’re moaning for your boyfriend’s elder brother. The sex was phenomenal and you’ll never forget it for as long as you live. “Remember this? Hm?” he questions as he swipes to a certain point of the video.

“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.”

You scream, a trail of drool connecting his thumb to your tongue as you can’t help yourself when Yuuji spanks your ass. He’s seen it before, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. God you sound desperate, and in that moment, you were.

“Think it’s okay to f-fuck my brother? Huh? You were meant to say no.” he reminds you. He pulls your back into his chest and holds each of your wrists in his hands and keeps them near the small of your back. And he uses them, for leverage, as he fucks his length into your weeping slit. “Beggin’ for him to bruise your cervix like that? Had no idea what a little slut you were. You want him to fuck you again, don’t you?”

“N-No!” you lie. You’d love Sukuna to ravage you again. To make a complete mess of your insides and churn your brain into mush. You don’t want to think about anything but getting destroyed by him and Yuuji.

You feel so spoilt.

Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets closer to you. His length runs through your folds and nudges your clit as Yuuji keeps you pinned in place. Your face twinkles as the light reflects off of your tear stricken cheeks.

Yuuji slows down as Sukuna helps you angle your hips.

Though you aren’t sure how it’s only just dawning on you now what is happening.

Sukuna’s heavy mushroom tip begins to split your cunt further open. Each yelp and cry silenced by Yuuji as he smothers your mouth and whispers into your ear.

“Shhhh, baby, you can take him. You’ve done it before, yeah? Good girl, sh sh sh…” he consoles you. His hands grope your tits and his lips smother your neck and shoulder in soft kisses as he tries to distract you from the stinging stretch being inflicted upon you. “That’s it… good fucking girl… you can take us both, yeah? You wan’ us to fuck you stupid, yeah?”

You hum, unsure if you’re agreeing or not. Nothing is really making sense when all you can focus on is the fact you’re somehow accommodating two Itadori cocks at once.

“Look at you… elastic little cunt.” Sukuna snarls, laughing as he drinks in the sight of you being double stuffed like a porn star. He grabs his phone, taking a quick picture so that Yuuji can see the view he’s seeing.

“Woah… you’re so good, baby. Takin’ us so well.” he praises, kissing the skin behind your ear before slowly rolling his hips again.

“Don’t fucking praise her yet, haven’t even moved.” Sukuna starts, his hips begin to move too. Their thrusts are off beat and your heart begins to pound. You aren’t getting a break to get used to the feeling. The tempo of their mismatched thrusts has your vision whiting out. Your head lolls backwards onto Yuuji’s shoulder as they continue to ruin you, and you swear you can’t breathe.

You aren’t sure if you’re even there.

“M-Maybe we should slow down,” Yuuji tells Sukuna, his hips already slowing before he finishes his sentence.

“Fuck that.” Sukuna grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. Drool spills from your lips and your eyes can’t focus. But he knows you’re listening and he knows you’re looking. You’re in there somewhere, enjoying this. “We already know you’re a whore so don’t act shy now.”

“’m g’na c-um.” you manage to squeak out even in your dazed state. “H-aah!” you struggle, but your pussy does all the talking for you. The sound of liquid spilling out of you is deafening. The suctioning and squelching sounds that follow are just as boisterous as they continue to pound into you. And just as you think your high is drawing to a close, their sloppy thrusts pick up the pace.

Another stream of liquid gushes from your cunt as they abuse your sweet spot in independently. Your head falls forward onto Sukuna’s chest, now. And he uncharacteristically cradles the crown of your head as you rest there.

Yuuji lets go of the singular wrist he’s still holding so he can focus on fucking into you. And he does, loudly. His moans are raucous as he empties his balls into your greedy hole.

Sukuna soon follows, hissing through his teeth as he spills his seed soon after his brother. None of you want to move, least of all you. You’re still clenching around them both while you rest against Sukuna’s chest. Yuuji begins to kiss at your shoulder, telling you how perfect and beautiful you are. And you shudder when his kisses trail down the column of your spine.

The elder brother is silent as he pants, stroking your hair repeatedly as he contemplates what just happened. But he hurriedly moves his hand away when he sees Yuuji look up at him.

“Knew she could take us,” he smirks. “Your girlfriend’s a perfect little whore.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[fangswbenefits]

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

[targaryenluvs]

— TRAPPED (WORDS NOT SAID)

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: cold!corio, murder, nc kissing, possessiveness, very controlling thoughts and actions, arranged marriage, cheating, dark-ish themes since he’s literally insane HAVE U SEEN THE BOOKS? not proof read

summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.

word count: 1.9k words

a/n: i don’t usually write toxic shit but like that’s the definition of snow and his cute lil intrusive thoughts so here u go 😘 this man is a bad man especially after lucy. so i find it so funny when he’s super sweet in some fics but he’s super like ooh she needs protection, oh she’s fragile you get me???

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

there was no point in crying.

you knew that.

but at the prospect of marrying a man whom you barely even knew scared the hell out of you, and the thought of not being with your albeit secret boyfriend, not getting to marry him, start a life with him? it was unbearable.

your dress was crisp white, like snow. of course.

the memories of that day were jumbled in your head, you remember being stuffed into a dress, your hair and face being pulled every which way and holding coriolanus’s hands as you listened to his vows, void of emotion in the eyes but with a slight smile on his face. you couldn’t even recall what happened afterwards. and you didn’t want to. coriolanus hadn’t even let you properly bid your family farewell before he’d sweeped you away to your new home, courtesy of your parents and the plinths.

and even if your home was cold and distant you tried your best to be nice and easy with snow. you’d wear what he wanted, did what he wanted and everything else. you could tell he found comfort in control, knowing what was happening, being able to tell people what to do. even if you hated to admit it, it suited him.

in a rare moment, his mask would slip. the mask that kept his true thoughts and emotions neatly stored away, it would fall. and you revelled in them, a genuine smile, across his face. but as soon as it slipped, his walls were back up and he was straightening his red coat and out the door.

over the next months you’d learnt to keep yourself in check, there was no point in trying to bond with coriolanus, he knew his boundaries in your relationship? marriage? whatever it was, it was just on paper. you were mere passing acquaintances at best. you’d have breakfast together, he’d leave the house, you’d occupy yourself with the house, the library, entertainment, shopping, he’d come home, dinner and then off to your rooms.

but over a few weeks ago you’d met someone new.

andrenis was insanely gorgeous, his eyes shone in the sun and his brown hair reminded you of chocolate. he was breathtaking and he loved you. it’d been so long since you felt love, pure and devoted love to someone. the vacant halls of coriolanus’s and yours home were at the back of your mind in his presence.

at first youd started of friends of course and as you continued you felt, alive. every time he looked at you, talked to you everything faded to the back of your mind. but what you didn’t know was that snow had taken note. he’d noticed you skipping out on breakfast at times, your maids always claiming that you’d been reading late, working late and so on.

working late? you were married to him, what work could you possible have? why were you sleeping so late? could you not do your reading during the day? what was taking your attention, who?

even if you didn’t talk much, let alone see eachother you were a constant in his life now. something that gave him comfort of sorts. small talk with you in the morning and night, seeing you in the halls, your laugh echoing through the halls as you talked with staff, your scent lingering in the library and the drops of blood on his roses, since you were the only person whom he allowed to tend to them.

for him, you were security.

he knew you wouldn’t leave since you had no reason to. there was no love holding you to this relationship, you had a comfortable life, your friends and family in your reach and the luxury that you lived in. you were free, in your eyes. but in reality the second your own pen touched that paper and you signed the certificate your life was taken from you. even if you didn’t know it, coriolanus had been monitoring you from afar.

keeping track of what you did, where you went, what you spent. it was all to make sure you made it home of course. nothing less, nothing more.

so imagine his surprise when he heard reports of you sneaking out of the house and returning in the early hours of the morning.

for some reason he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy in his heart. why on earth would you be sneaking out? was this home not enough? the roof over your head and the food in your stomach? the bed you sleep in and the man you call your husband. your loyalty should be unwavering yet here he was, watching you creep out of the house through the servants quarters.

his jaw clenched and his fists curled as you laid your hands against his chest, foreheads against the others. “i’ve missed you my love.” the man’s voice echoed through his head.

words he’d never said to you.

“i know, but we are together and that is all that matters. i love you andrenis.”

words you’d never said to him.

“i’m to visit district 12, my father wishes for me to visit my brother. you know what he did, his punishment was to be a peacekeeper. but his time is up and mother misses him terribly. i do not know how long i will be y/n, but i will bring you back whatever you wish.”

“and what exactly will you get from district 12 that my dear wife will will not be able to get here?” it wasn’t a question, even if it was said as one. there was not a single thing that he wouldn’t give his wife. to keep up your appearances of course, he couldn’t have you going without something you wanted.

your heart was racing and your hands sweaty as you instantly pulled away from andrenis. snows eyes bore into his, andrenis breathed deeply before speaking, “coriolanus. you look good, rising above the ranks, marrying up are we?”

andrenis layworth. not only did coriolanus despise him but he knew how he truly acted. he should’ve stayed away from things that weren’t his, never were and never would be.

“andrenis!” you scolded him, it was already embarrassing in your eyes to be caught with him by your husband but you wouldn’t let him mock coriolanus.

your husband reached his hand out towards you, and you accepted as he spoke up. “i hope your travels are safe, andrenis.” the two of you walked away, him placing you into the car before shutting the door. he tapped on the back as you drove back home, without him to your surprise.

andrenis was taken aback. in all the time he’d been with you, you’d failed to mention your husband was him. and as much as andrenis would hate to say it, snow did intimidate him. nowadays at least. he rarely showed emotion, he was always proper and dressed appropriately, but all that didn’t matter when snow had his mind. his wit, intelligence and cunning was far more impressive than most.

he’d always kept himself in check.

but as coriolanus snow walked towards him with certainty he backed himself all the way into the dark alley as he was grabbed by his collar and slammed into the wall. “my wife. she is my wife, no one else’s. just because your pockets may be deeper than mine does not mean that i won’t hesitate to get you out of my way. you could never be worthy of her and if you so much as look at her, i will make sure you will never see the light of day. perhaps you’ll have a fall, or a crash with your traitor brother?”

the mask had fallen and the only thing left behind it was pure rage.

“or maybe we’ll hang? what would that be, three deaths on your hands?” andrenis smirked as coriolanus’s face dropped. he grabbed andrenis and shoved him infront, pushing him to walk. “you’re going to district 12 and you will never come out.” andrenis laughed loudly, “such terror you impose, poor coriolanus, clawing his way to the top. marrying a woman by force-”

“on second thought.”

a single gun shot rung through the air.

“district 12 isn’t low enough for you.” snow spoke as andrenis tried to crawl away from him. “no place on earth deserves the dishonour of having you waste their resources. the air you breathe is a privilege, that should not be taken by you.” coriolanus pulled him up by his hair, “the second you decided to be with her, was the day that you died.”

andrenis’s eyes were closing, fear swimming around. but corio couldn’t bring himself to care. his mind was clouded, for once he wasn’t thinking clearly. as he walked back into the house he saw you, sat with your head in your hands, jumping up at the sound of him entering. “corio.”

his heart was beating erratically at the sound of your voice, so soft and welcoming. why hadn’t he noticed your sweetness before?

“i’m so sorry, i- i was weak. we rarely speak to eachother, let alone allow ourselves to love. with andrenis, he reminded me of it, reminded me how it felt to love and to be loved. i won’t see him again, i promise.”

so submissive, rather than standing your ground. getting angry at him for forcing you into the marriage, for not talking to you, you were apologising. whilst you may have been disloyal he saw it only as a weakness. a bad habit to which he could help, he could fix. and he knew you’d keep your promise, not because you’d try your hardest but because andrenis was a cold stiff body in the bottom of a construction site. a mugging victim? an accident? it didn’t matter how his passing was seen as, he was gone and he’d never return.

he’d made sure of it.

as he walked towards you the scene from before replayed in his head as you walked backwards with every step you took, and in your eyes he saw what he craved to enforce, terror. and you were so small to him, something fragile, in need of control and order.

“don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe, i’m all you need.” corio spoke as his face got closer. the rise and fall of your chest was rapid, your eyes were wide as you realised what he was trying to do. you quickly turned your head but he quickly forced you to look at him, fingers digging into your face, “i give you everything, i will always give you everything. you deserve nothing but the best and i am the only one who can give it to you, you need me. do you understand?” he questioned as you began to cry, you’d never seen him so unhinged. his hair was slightly out of place, a strand infront of his eye.

(zayn malik vibes)

his coat was off, most likely hung on the door way and his sleeves were rolled, his usually pristine white shirt was crinkled, dirty. what had he been doing after you left? you’d gotten your answer as your teary eyes blinked away the tears, focused on his bare arms,

blood.

“corio, please. what did you do?” you cried as his hand made its way to your neck as he pressed your forehead to his, your stomach swirling and head spinning as a sense of deja vu crossed you, andrenis.

“what i had to, i will always do what i have to. nothing is ever handed to me.”

“you didn’t-”

he laughed, “snow lands on top, in life and on you.”

(going to puke why did i write that it’s so cringe)

the kiss was nothing like you ever had. it wasn’t sweet, passionate, rather hungry, as if he was chasing you, afraid you’d run. as if you could, he’d let one girl get away and with how he looked at you in this moment?

you were trapped.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 2

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1

There’s a note in Eddie’s locker. It flutters down to the dirty linoleum when he opens it to try and find his missing Biology textbook. He stares down at it, perplexed, until Jeff bends down to pick it up.

“Hey!” Eddie cries, snatching it out of his hand. “That’s mine!”

“Whatever, dude,” Jeff replies, leaning back into the closed locker beside Eddie’s and crossing his arms.

Eddie pays him no mind, too busy unfolding the note and bending over it to read.

He reads it again. And again. And again, each pass over the sign-off making his cheeks feel hotter.

It’s not like Eddie’s a stranger to getting notes in his locker, but they’re usually death threats. Or requests for drugs. Not…not this.

“What’s it say?” Jeff asks, breaking him from his shocked reverie.

“Nothing!” Eddie shrieks loudly enough that multiple heads turn to scowl at them. Eddie hastily stuffs the note into his pocket, and smiles at Jeff. “Let’s go get lunch, huh?”

Jeff squints at him suspiciously.

Eddie, in a desperate bid to distract him, starts rambling about this week’s campaign. It seems to work. By the time they’re settled in with matching shitty lunches, Jeff’s wheedling him for information on the next big bad instead of the note burning a hole in Eddie’s pocket.

It’s probably a joke, definitely a joke.

He finds himself combing the packed lunch tables anyway, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anyone paying more attention to him than usual. There’s nothing. Harrington’s letterman on a different girl, a few band geeks sitting closer together than usual, nothing else.

No one looks at him at all.

He gives it up as a bad job and forgets the note entirely until he finds a wet, pulpy mess in his pocket on his next laundry day.

A little part of Eddie mourns the only love note he’s likely ever to get, cruel prank or not.

But there’s another one there the following week. There’s an envelope this time–it’s light purple, his name written in a dark, careful black atop it.

He’s alone at his locker, no nosy friends to wheedle it out of him, but the hallway is full of other students rushing to make it to their next class, so he presses it carefully into his monster manual and bides his time.

He wants to wait until he’s in the privacy of his own home to open it. Eddie barely makes it to his van after school before he’s collapsing into the relative privacy of the windowless back and tearing through his backpack like a rabid dog.

He tries to be more careful with the envelope. But it’s sealed, and his prodding fingers tear it open in jagged lines.

That same light blue paper is nestled inside. He slips it out and unfolds it to read in the dank recesses of his parked van.

  Eddie –

  You always look so happy when you’re with your friends. I like the way your dimples always seem to peek out no matter how small your smile is. The big ones are my favorite, when you’re jumping up on the cafeteria table with all your teeth showing.

  You didn’t jump up on any tables last week. Was that because of me?

  You seemed upset after I gave you my letter. Do you even want me to write these? I don’t want to be a bother. If you do, maybe you could write back? Leave your reply in the back of the WXYZ encyclopedia, no one ever uses that one.

  If you don’t reply, then I won’t bother you anymore, okay?

  Yours, always,

  Your Secret Admirer

It could still be a joke. Eddie wouldn’t put it past some of the jocks in the school to put their girlfriends up to a long-con. Still, his heart’s fluttering like there’s a bird stuffed in there trying to get out.

It could be a joke. But Eddie’s already mentally picking out stationary and pondering word choices. There will be a letter tucked into the designated encyclopedia come tomorrow morning.

Eddie’s got a maiden to woo.

*** 

“What if he doesn’t respond?” Steve hisses in Chrissy’s ear.

She bats him away, which doesn’t seem like very good girlfriend behavior to Steve, but what does he know? He’s had exactly one real girlfriend, and she’d ditched him for another guy within the year.

“He’ll respond,” Chrissy whispers back, soothing his anxiety with a gentle pat to his shoulders.

The library’s not as empty as it was the last few times. Steve feels his heartbeat kick up every time someone looks up from their coursework and glances their way. At this rate, all his hair’s going to turn gray, ruining his best feature well before there’s even a flicker of a chance to kiss Eddie Munson on the lips.

“Why did we pick the library?” Steve asks.

Chrissy pauses in front of the bookcase holding the damning shelf of encyclopedias. She raises her eyebrow at him and asks, “what, you’d prefer the boy’s bathroom?” drolly.

“I remember when I thought you were nice,” Steve mutters quietly enough that he hopes she can’t hear him. By the way she rolls her eyes, he has no such luck.

Then, without further prompting, she bends down and pulls the WXYZ encyclopedia off the shelf. Steve’s heartbeat ratchets up as he peers over her crouched head and watches her dainty hand flip the cover open. There, tucked between the front board and the cover page, is a crisply folded piece of paper clearly ripped carelessly out of someone’s notebook.

Steve doesn’t care; he’d still open it if it was written on a used piece of toilet paper.

He reaches down past where Chrissy is still crouched to retrieve the note, but just like before, she slaps his hand back.

“Chrissy!”

She doesn’t respond, just plucks the note and slides the encyclopedia back into its place. Once standing, she links her arm with his, running soothing fingers up and down his forearm even as she pulls him along toward the back of the library.

She pushes him down into a vacant chair with deceptively strong arms; he always forgets how difficult cheerleading must be. Once he’s slumped into his own chair, she pulls the one across the table to his side and seats herself primly on it, legs crossed at her thighs.

Only then does she unfold the note and lay it gently on the table in front of him.

       Secret Admirer,

       I don’t know if this is a prank or if you genuinely like me, so I’m not really sure what to say. No one’s ever had a crush on me before, at least that I know of.  

       I didn’t know my hair was nice. My uncle keeps trying to get me to cut it. One time I brushed it and it was so poofy I wore a bandanna until I washed it again. But you probably didn’t need to know that. I’m glad you like it though.

       The paper you picked is really pretty, and I can smell the perfume you sprayed on the envelope. Fresh flowers in the spring, or a sunny day.

       –Eddie

       P.S. You can keep writing. Your notes have been the best part of my days, and I hope mine will be for you, too.

Steve reads it over and over again. Eddie’s handwriting is spiky, but carefully rendered to be readable. The post script takes a little more squinting at the page, letters and words crowding over one another like he’d added it at the last minute.

From the few classes they’ve shared, a small part of Steve was worried he wouldn’t be able to read it at all. But, no, Eddie’d taken the time to smooth out each letter, even while half convinced this was a prank. And the bit about his Uncle and his poofy hair? Adorable.

Steve brushes his fingers reverently over the words, half afraid they’ll smudge beneath his fingers. His face aches from the force of his smile.

“What should I say back?” Steve asks, looking up at Chrissy, feeling manic, hopeful, brave. Only then does he notice her carefully averted gaze, the way her body is turned just slightly away. He pushes the page toward her. “Come on, Chris, read it.”

She leans back toward him, smiling as she readjusts her body in a better position to read. “I didn’t want to presume.”

“Aren’t couples supposed to share?” Steve asks, because even when he’s happy enough to beam light straight out of his pores, he’s fundamentally a bitch.

Chrissy doesn’t respond, already too absorbed in Eddie’s words to pay him any attention, not that he can blame her. Steve waits, bursting with stupid, tender feelings until she’s read the thing through and put the page back on the table, placed perfectly between them.

“So, what should I say?” Steve asks.

Chrissy, never one to make things easy on him, starts the way she’s started every other letter-writing session so far: “What do you want to say?”

*** 

The letter her and Steve had written together is in her bag, Steve understandably too fearful to carry it himself. She’d taken it home, used her nicer stationery and a decorative envelope because, as Steve had pointed out repeatedly, Eddie’d seemed to appreciate how pretty the last letter was.

He’d sounded almost wretched when he said it, like proof that Eddie liked the pretty embellishments she’d put on his words was all he’d needed to know that his feelings would never be reciprocated.

She hadn’t known what to say.

So, she’d taken it home, gussied it up, and brought it back to the school, waiting for an opportune moment to push it through the slats of Eddie’s locker.

Steve’s been walking her to class and to lunch, playing the dutiful boyfriend up. She likes it, all this time with him.

He’s the best boyfriend she’s ever had.

Jason, his only competition for the title, has looked more and more pinch-faced every time they’ve crossed paths. She wishes, almost, that he’d yell at her, hit her, do something. It feels like waiting for a bomb to blow.

It’s not a surprise when the explosion finally hits.

“Are you serious, Chrissy?” Jason asks, and she spins, heartbeat rabbiting in her chest to find him storming toward her. And there’s a look on his face that she’s never seen before–not even when they’d broken up that first time.

His eyes are hard, mouth open like he’s one second away from shouting, and as he speaks, both his fists clench as he steps toward her. She can’t help the way she stumbles back into Steve, feeling comforted as his arm comes out to steady her.

“You replaced me with him?” and he sneers that last word, like Steve’s gum he’s scraping off his shoe.

Jason used to go on and on about Steve back in their Freshman year, before whatever the hell that had happened with Nancy Wheeler had mellowed him out. Before that, he’d been the unmitigated king. King of the keg stand, sure, but king of the court, king of the cafeteria, king of them all, and Jason had deferred to him.

But after, as Steve closed in on himself–Carol and Tommy still distant placeholders at his sides– Jason hadn’t talked about him anymore. Like he was infected now, and whatever he had might be spreading.

Chrissy'd only liked Steve more.

So, she shores herself up with the pressure of Steve’s arm on her back and points a shaking finger directly into Jason’s enraged face. “We broke up, Jason Carver,” she says, surprised when her voice doesn’t even crack. “It’s none of your business who I see.”

Jason’s mouth hangs open, clearly shocked, and a small part of Chrissy aches for how it was before. She always thought they’d be those high school sweethearts who got married right out of college. They’d just fit, or she thought they had.

He used to be nicer, sweet almost, in the way he’d talk to her.

It’d been a long time since Chrissy would classify any of the words coming out of his mouth as sweet.

Jason’s looking between them, eyes wide, something hurt leeching in past all that anger as he says, “you’ll come back,” in such quiet assurance that it makes her gut twist.

Chrissy watches him turn and walk away, stuck in the moment, until Steve squeezes her waist and asks, “are you alright, babe?”

It’s only with the word “babe” falling out of Steve’s lips that she realizes they’ve attracted an audience. So, she smiles like she’s leading a cheer for all to see, looks up into Steve’s eyes and replies, “never better.”

They continue on their way into lunch.

Once there, she eats as Steve watches Eddie’s latest table-top rant with hearts in his eyes big enough to see from the moon. Like he hadn’t given an almost identical one the week before. Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He’s transfixed, like Eddie’s a succubus and Steve’s stuck in his thrall. Until she elbows him in the side and he goes back to his lunch after shooting her a wounded look.

Boys in love are stupid creatures, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect this one, even if it’s just from himself.

PART 3

[rae-writes]

⊹ Candles [reversed] ⊹

since it's my birthday, I wanted to do a little special self-indulgence, so here's this! || 2.k || written with poly!Mc in mind + our son Luke

4 am 

Early in the morning, before the faux light has even spread across the Devildom, Mammon is in your bed. He’s pushed his way through your door, half asleep himself, stumbled over and climbed underneath your covers (that he swears are softer than his), and has pulled you into his arms. 

Every year, he insists on being the first person to wish you a Happy Birthday, and if not that, then the first who gets to tell you in person— so he's found that coming to your room before the day even begins gets him his title of ‘first’ and gives him alone time with you.

It’s much too early to be awake right now, so he’s content with falling back to sleep with you. His body is in complete contact with yours and he sleepily swears not to let go because he loves you too much. 

5 am 

An hour later, or maybe even less than, Asmo comes to sneak you from his brother’s grasp, gently hauling your barely conscious frame to his room. He wants you to keep getting as much beauty sleep as you can, but he still wants to start getting you ready for your big day! 

Of course, Azzy’s been planning this for weeks, so he has everything prepared and laid out. His alone time with you consists of him lowering you into the steaming bath and massaging you well, scrubbing your hair and body until you’re squeaky clean and practically shining, before toweling you off and dressing you in the clothes he’d set aside. 

Your skin care is done and your hair is fixed flawlessly, nails cut, filed, and painted; everything is all done up by the man himself and he tops it all off with excited kisses and pictures now that you’re [mostly] awake. 

6 am 

After you’re ready for the day, Lucifer takes over and hides you away in his study, selfishly holding you on his lap as you both drink coffee to get properly started. The drink is as bitter as ever, lips glossy with the remnants of it as you both chat quietly. 

He’s your soft start to the day, the calm before the lovable chaos, and the first born makes sure to whisper sweet words alongside the comforting crackle of the fireplace. His hour of alone time is lazy and physical, because he can’t go more than a few seconds without running his gloved hands over you. 

If anything, he’s unwilling to let you go, but Lucifer knows it would throw a wrench into the day’s layout and cause more fuss than necessary— plus, he has some things to do before tonight, so he’ll let you go with a slow kiss.

7 am

You’re handed over into Beelzebub’s capable hands, ensured to be served with a filling breakfast. He’s more than excited to show you what he, personally, cooked for you (even if there are just a few bites out of some of it). His cheeks are stuffed and a cute little smile is spread across his cheeks as he points to all the things on your plate. 

When  your plate is spotless, and your tummy is full but not too full, Beel guides you on a small little walk around the house corridors to make sure you digest properly. He’s still eating, of course, but his pleased hums are filling the air comfortably, making for a nice atmosphere. 

Your little walk ends at the entrance hall, where he bids you goodbye with a cozy little hug, and a promise that you’ll love every second of your special day.

8 am

With a hand at the small of your back, Satan leads you out of the house and straight to a bookstore, wanting to keep a slow start to the long day. With it having just opened, only the two of you and a few others are inside, giving plenty of room to stroll and browse (and goof around). 

He points out things you’ve had your eye on, new editions that weren’t there the previous visit, or special copies that were for limited time. The fourth born wants at least two books in your hand and a little collectible maybe- or a bookmark. Can’t have too many.

Once he’s spoiled you a little, and after you’ve both pet the local cats outside, he’s reluctantly handing you over with a lingering kiss to your hand, and a promise to read one of your books together soon.

9 am

Levi took his place, fingers lacing with yours, as he raved about a nearby anime store, gushing over the items he saw online that reminded him of you. By the time you get there, you know every section that’s going to be inside, yet it’s still exciting as you get pulled in. 

You both get lost in the cool merch, having to wave your hands over the stands or jump in place to find each other occasionally, but end up staying side by side for the most part, whisper-shouting with big smiles. 

Leaving the store, there is a pretty good sized bag on your and his arm, but he couldn’t be more thrilled about the lightness of his wallet since he got to spend money on you. He takes your bag, and your previous bag, in a promise to tuck them safely in your room, before giving you a location.

10 am 

Waiting for you outside of a small little amusement park is Diavolo, who is positively beaming in anticipation. He’s already got two colorful wristbands in hand, which he latches around your wrist, and lets you do the same to him, before heading inside. 

There are rides of all kinds and he lets you choose each one of them, pointing out ones he thinks you’ll like as you pass. You play a few booth games, getting a pretty flame salamander plushie as a prize, or totally failing and having a good laugh. 

His only request is the photo booth, which you both do two different times, to get a silly border and a normal border. He pouts a little as he walks you out, assuring you’d see him later, before leading you a few blocks back into the townsquare. 

11 am

For lunch, Simeon takes you off the paths and to a somewhat secluded gazebo, where a sweet little picnic was spread out; celestial realm dishes were rationed onto baby blue plates, two shiny cups on either side, with polished silverware. 

The breeze is just right as the two of you eat, chatting and sitting closer than usual. Butterflies go by, and your eyes follow, as you both take turns pointing out different kinds you see and what flowers they seem to like better. 

You take your time neatly packing everything up, fingers brushing and shoulders bumping, before he parts with a, dare you say it, angelic kiss to your forehead.

12 pm

Luke, naturally, is in charge of dessert, promising a light, yet satisfying, treat as he leads you down the sidewalk and into a cute looking bakery. He wants you to save room for the many things that were cooked and baked for your party, so he gets a little pile of oreo balls and other small things like that. 

He holds nothing back as he tells you how happy he is to be spending your birthday with you, how he’s so very glad he met you, and anything else along those lines. He has to get them all out now, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to later! 

The sweet angel is nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he leads you to your next location, waving excitedly as he promises to help make your party one of a kind.

1 pm

You’re actually given to Raphael next, who’s standing outside of a library with that barely perceptible smile on his face. He explains that he wanted somewhere quiet and cozy to wind down with you, suggesting that you shouldn’t do too much before the big celebration. 

The very back corner of the library becomes yours for now, complete with a pretty view of swaying trees. The archangel almost shyly asks if you’d sit closer, loosely holding your hand as he begins reading to you. 

He stalls a bit at the end, toying with your fingers, before telling you that he’ll see you later…but he’d like to do this again, sometime, okay?

2 pm

Hocus Pocus becomes your next destination, Solomon wasting no time in wrapping an arm around you as you browse the store. It’s slow and unhurried and drawn out as he talks about certain items, explaining a few origins, and listens to how your day’s been so far. 

He dabbles a bit in glittery, washable, body paint, joyously painting random shapes onto your skin (even rolling his sleeves up so you could return the  favor). The sorcerer makes it a point to paint his name along your wrist, taking a picture of it, before helping you wash it all off. 

With a quick spell, he takes away any aching your feet might have, or any sort of headache, teasingly kissing at your jaw, before wagging his fingers as he teleports you somewhere new. 

3 pm

A familiar shade of gold greets you as you're sent sprawling out onto the Castle’s floors. Barbatos chuckles and chides Solomon’s delivery as he helps you up, dusting you off gently. He makes sure you’re alright, boldly carrying you anyway, regardless of your answer.

A soothing, palate cleansing, tea spread is set out on the table as he settles you into the chair, pouring it as delicately as ever, before joining you. Instead of adjacent, he sits beside you, eagerly listening to anything you have to say. 

He may or may not cheat time, prolonging his alone time with you just a little, unwilling to let you go now that you both finally have a minute together. He does have much to get done still, however, and with a [deep] kiss, he politely escorts you through one of his portals. 

4 pm

In the heart of the forest, amongst a wave of flowers, lies Belphie. He’s not asleep, but it’s clear he’s just woken up, as he gestures for you to come lay down, offering a peaceful break. 

Instead of star gazing like usual, he settles for cloud gazing, lazily pointing up and whispering descriptions here and there. It’s serene and quiet and, in his opinion, the perfect way to kill time. 

While he doesn’t want to get up, he does at least hug you and nuzzle close in a send off, watching you go, before flopping back down.

5 pm

Mephisto is more than ready, and honored, to be the one escorting you to your big birthday bash. He takes you on the long path through the forest, deciding that if the others got time alone, surely he could have his own slot, too. 

He keeps close, talking about daily matters, continuing to take small detours as you both make your way through the Devildom. His eyes don’t leave your face much at all as he basks in the moment. 

With a grand, flourishing gesture, he officially announces your arrival, and presents you to your birthday party!

6 pm

Confetti, balloons, changing led lights, and glitter are everywhere. There’s a long table with many presents littering the surface, and another one next to it with small party snacks and desserts. Music plays faint in the background, not really needed over the fun and chaos that comes from the party games picked out, or from the karaoke. 

When the time comes, a cake as astonishing as the previous ones is brought out and magically lit up prettily. Voices harmonize as they all sing you happy birthday , none being able to fight the smile on their faces, but…you couldn’t either. 

And as you circled around the cake, blowing out each of your candles, you wished for what you did every year since coming here: to always be able to stay with your boys. 

With cake and presents over, it delves into more chaos as they all argue over a) who you’re going home with tonight (and that it would be no fair if Mephisto took you, since he’d have you alone), and b) if you went home with a group, who’s room you would be staying in (Solomon taunted Mammon so much, you swore he’d blow a gasket). 

Oh, yeah. You loved them to death.