#his hair reminds me of ruffled feathers

[patchworkcloud]

Horikoshi really made his design as bird like as possible, didn’t he? Feather motifs everywhere.

[monstersholygrail]

I’m making a nest from the twigs the birds give me. Then I’m carving big wooden eggs and leaving them in the nest. How do the bird hybrids react?

Tell me, wise one, of the bird sluts.

That’s the the best thing anyone’s ever called me omg

You appreciated the nesting gifts the all male Bird Hybrid Colony gave you more than you could possible portray. So you tried to do the next best thing. You crafted a beautiful nest from all the twigs and decorations you had gathered after every class over time.

When it was done you placed it carefully in your office. Always wanting to remind yourself how thoughtful your class was. But something was missing. The nest needed eggs now so you made some wooden eggs to go inside it.

You hadn’t thought anything of it then. And you still didn’t think of it when you sent one of the bird hybrids into your office to get a CD for the next dance you were going to be teaching.

The bird hybrid’s eyes widen upon seeing unattended eggs in your nest, not realizing they weren’t real. Excitement fluttered in his chest and he released a series of loud chirps to alert the others that someone had finally done it! One of them had finally gotten their mate to lay eggs. But it wasn’t clear who.

They return with your music quickly, handing it to you and leaning in to nibble affectionately at your neck. So proud of you for laying such perfect eggs. Their feathers ruffle as they face the colony who’s equally as excited, all of them wanting to see and care for the eggs.

One of the bird hybrids excused themselves to the bathroom, the urge to care for the eggs too great. So they go to your office instead, settling on top of the eggs to keep them warm and make sure they’re able to hatch. But they don’t want you to worry. You already did the hard work, now it’s their turn to do their part.

It happened so flawlessly that you barely realize what’s happening throughout the class. One of the bird hybrids would excuse themselves to the bathroom, they’d be gone for a period of time, and then just as they’d return another would excuse themselves.

“What did you guys do, stop at a bird bath on the way here?" You joke as you begin to notice how many of them are going to the bathroom.

The bird hybrids didn’t know whose sperm had been lucky enough to create eggs for you to lay. But no matter who it was they all love you, their lovely mate, just the same. So they all wanted to help care for the eggs. They hadn’t realized how strange their behavior must’ve seemed though.

Looking to investigate what’s going, realization dawns on you seeing a bird hybrid laying on top of wooden eggs.

“Aw, guys, those aren’t real,” you say sheepishly. Feeling bad for having to break the news to them. One of the bird hybrids wraps their arms around you from behind, nuzzling into your hair and lovingly grooming you.

“What do you mean, mate? The eggs are right there,” he rasps in your ear, his hardening cock grinding into round bottom, already looking to fill you with more of their cum and lay more eggs. You moan, feeling his length teasingly slide between your thick thighs

“I-I made them out of wood. Humans don’t lay eggs. We have to get pregnant,” you rush out breathlessly, your body buzzing with arousal as you subconsciously meet the hybrid’s thrusts.

The other bird hybrid gets up and checks the eggs himself. Seeing you were right, all their feathers ruffle in frustration. Realizing they hadn’t been successful after all.

“Well then I guess we’ll all just have to try again and again. Filling your tight cunt with our seed till one load sticks and takes root inside of you,” he growls in your ear.

Then in a flash they’re throwing your clothes off, revealing your perfectly plump body to them. Their mouths water as their claws grab at your supple flesh. Bending you over your desk they present your soaked pussy to the colony and they all watch as you clench desperately around nothing.

The bird hybrids practically fight and claw their way to get to you first, but when one of them finally sinks deep inside you, the other watch eagerly as you cry out, your body spasming. Each of them takes their time, thrusting inside your pulsating pussy with a firm precision. Their aim to breed you clear in every snap of their hips. Before the next one gets to you with the same goal in mind.

You’re a wreck as they brutalize your fat cunt, filling you up again and again with your cum. You can feel it gush out of you and onto your thighs with each plunge of their cock, only for them to fuck what they can back up inside you and replace the load with their own.

Helpless moans and cries of pleasure leave you. You try your best to writhe against them, either trying to gain a brief break or to jerk back and meet their thrusts. But either way none of them plan on letting you move. Their claws digging into your wide hips and slamming you back on their hard lengths.

You explode over another one of their cocks, roughly clawing at your own desk to help ground you. Their love and care for you brought them to each make sure you came multiple times on their cocks, the way you clenched around them always bringing them to finish. Sagging against the desk you wait for the next to come.

But instead the bird hybrids, having been satisfied they’d managed to breed you, come up and start cleaning you up. Nibbling and kissing at your soft skin. While others nuzzle and whisper in your ears how good you were for them and how perfectly your belly is gonna look all pregnant.

The bird hybrid from earlier grins at the fucked out state of you. He crouches down, his wings flapping happily as he sees your belly already rounded full of their cum. He pushes down on it, chuckling as some spills out of you causing you to weakly moan.

“Looks like it’s beginning to take root already. But if it doesn’t there’s certainly no harm in doing this all over.” His eyes look up and down your form, already hungry for more of you.

Letting you know he is ready to have you in every possible way, spilling his hot semen deep inside your cunt until you’re finally all good and bred. Not willing to stop until they’ve don’t just that.

[onlyseokmins]

babymaker • c.s.c

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah

Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.

Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor. 

University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits. 

Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement. 

You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror. 

Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.

"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.

"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way." 

"Of course, as long as it's convenient."

"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.

You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom. 

All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"

Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?

Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."  

"You're a busy man."

"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."

"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."

"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."

"Yeah, okay."

While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum. 

"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."

"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.

"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea. 

Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.

"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"

And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?

Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!

It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.

When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.

You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.

The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened. 

Safety. Security. Seungcheol.

Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.

And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.

Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.

You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile. 

Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.

Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal. 

He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.

You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.

It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop. 

When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.

And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more. 

These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair. 

He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.

So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only. 

The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.

Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.

The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for. 

But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him.��And want him.

"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."

What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.

But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?

Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man. 

Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.

"Kiss me."

And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.

"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."

"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.

"Not like that, up."

Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.

This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.

"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind. 

Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.

"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"

"No… s-sorry."

"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"

Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.

"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."

"Most times, not."

"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"

The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.

So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt. 

When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.

He waits for you to surrender.  

Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.

Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"

It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.

"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask."

No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"

It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.

"Bullshit."

"Bet."

"You love it when people stare at you." 

There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."

"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."

Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.

"What?" 

"You like me, don't you?"

It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "

"Forget about my cock for a bit." 

"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home. 

Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."

"… Alright."

"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "

"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"

Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."

"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."

"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"

The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.

"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."

"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."

He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.

Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"

"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "

Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."

"Wh-what?"

"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you." 

Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."

"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."

"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."

He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."

"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?" 

"Yeah… because you love me!"

There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.

"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."

Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin. 

You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."

"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"

"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"

"'Cause you never clean."

"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."

"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."

"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"

"… Six months."

Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"

"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"

"Oh yes, because that's the point here."

"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."

All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"

"Do… do you not like it?"

"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."

"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "

"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"

A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."

"Choi Seungcheol."

"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."

It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp. 

"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"

"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?" 

Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."

"You're so sappy, what the heck."

"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."

"Testing?"

"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"

You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."

"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"

"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.

But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.

Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.

"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."

"So that's what you meant by test…" 

The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.

It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."

And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.

Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement. 

Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.

He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before. 

But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.

"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.

A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.

You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"

"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."

"Oh? And how so? What for?"

"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.

"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."

"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…" 

"You don't sound sorry." 

Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.

Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions. 

He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"

"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."

"Brat."

"You love me." 

"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."

"I'm never mean to you."

"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."

"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."

"Wha — ?"

The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.

He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.

"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."

"Mmph, ah… only yours!"

No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white. 

It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.

But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are. 

"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."

"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."

"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."

"Jus' want, just want your dick."

"I know, baby."

Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.

"No!"

In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside. 

He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."

A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.

"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."

Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.

"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat. 

"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."

"Yeah, all yours, baby."

Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure. 

That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness. 

The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"

"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"

"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."

A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips. 

You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own. 

He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.

"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.

"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"

"I'm serious. I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."

He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."

"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."

Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"

"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."

"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."

You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"

"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."

"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."

"Love you too." 

"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return. 

"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"

You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.

onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©

[nvuy]

Could not sit still during the 2.7 livestream. I need to be inside of Sunday right NOW

You take a drag from the cigarette that falls from your lips and your bare arm wraps around the back of his head gently, holding him in place against your skin.

Sunday makes a noise. It sounds strangled as it forms from the back of his throat. He’s unusually still for the moment, though his arms come up to shakily curl around your waist. He presses into you gently, and though his breathing is staggered and uneven, he appears strangely at ease.

You feel his fingers tremble upon your spine. Perhaps he’s not used to feeling you this way; you had pulled his gloves off with your teeth and nipped at his knuckles until his face had grown pink enough for you to voice your concern. With his hands bare, he’s been forced to feel you for you.

Pointing it out was seemingly a mistake on your behalf, for you’d been gifted with a humiliated grunt and a quick smack on your shoulder. It barely helped at all considering he was playing a game of keeping your prying hands away from his ear feathers as well as trying his best to avert his gaze from your chest.

You shift once.

Sunday’s grip tightens around you.

Smoke wafts from your nose. “Still awake?”

“You’re terrible,” he mumbles. You’re sure he means it, too, for he hisses when you move again.

In retaliation, you shove his face in your chest. His nose squashes against your skin and his lips follow hotly. Weakly, he pushes himself up as best he can to bury his face into your sternum.

He’ll smell of smoke tonight. The thought is humiliating, but his chest grows warm and heavy with thrill. Perhaps he perceives it as some sort of branding; a harmless one. Something he reads about in those indulgent romance books Robin used to chat with him about.

His hair is a mess. It only grows worse when you ruffle it again, just to rile him up. Your hand quickly moves to his left wing before he can fight you off again, and you pinch the tip of the edge softly and slowly pull the wing outward.

He feels the uncomfortable stretch and lets out a displeased groan.

“These things are huge,” you whisper with the cigarette stuck to your lips. The wing stretches out far longer and larger than it appears it can. You scratch at the feathers and he cries out softly. They flutter by his ears. “Soft, too.”

He’s simply glad they please you.

He’s also frustrated he cannot snap at you for downplaying the situation at hand.

However, he is much too dizzy to form a coherent sentence.

You pet his hair.

The feeling goes straight to his dick and he twitches inside of you.

His teeth grit in frustration and you feel him squeeze your skin. “Do something.”

“The appeal of this is me not doing anything,” you remind him casually, tapping him on the nose. “You want some?” You hold the end of the cigarette close to his face. The smoke wafts close to his skin and he scrunches his nose up. Meekly, he shakes his head. “Hey. You’re the one that asked me to stay the night.”

He says nothing.

You feel his throat bob with a thick swallow on your sternum. His eyes are glassy. His room smells of smoke. Your smoke.

You sigh.

Then, you bounce once on his lap. Hard.

Sunday grips onto your hips for dear life. The noise that rips from his throat is pathetic. It was almost cute, if you wanted to be nice. You coo when he pants, and his cock twitches repeatedly between your legs. He holds tight enough to hurt.

You blow smoke over his wing and it twitches instinctively.

“I was… asking for you to keep me company,” he whispers between breaths. “I’ve told you I’m…” His face scrunches up when you roll your hips. “I’ve had trouble sleeping.”

“Am I helping?” you ask innocently.

“No.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

He holds tighter. “Move. Please.”

You roll your eyes when he peels his face from your sternum. Instead, you blow smoke in his face and he turns his head away instinctively.

When the smoke clears, he turns to face you again quickly. There’s a hint of frustration in his gaze. His jaw clenches.

“Why you ruin your lungs with that filth is beyond me.”

“Well, if you hate it so much, I guess I’ll just leave.” You press your hands to his shoulders, mindful to keep the burning head of the cigarette away from his wings, and heave yourself upwards off of his cock.

He’s quick to react. He holds your hips and slams you back down. He moans and grips your skin tight. Your stomach jolts with the pressure and you instinctively roll your hips along his flesh again.

“Stay,” he whispers. “Ruin me.”

“Already am,” you remind softly.

“Then don’t stop.” His hand comes forth to trail up your throat. You’re unsure if he realises how bright his halo glistens in the low light, and the feathers below his ears fluff up. He swallows roughly and tilts his head up to meet your lips.

Strangely, your hands creep around his neck and his halo warps and discolours. You grin sharply at him as your mind muddies further and further.

The world spins with colours you cannot name, and sounds you cannot hear correctly. The world drowns and drowns and twirls and distorts, but his image remains clear. Clearer than day, and he is the only thing in the room you understand. Even his bed that you lay on becomes a foreign feeling along your legs.

His halo glows so brightly it appears white. There are six wings now that flutter beside his head.

His hands crawl to both sides of your face.

Don’t stop.

“Don’t disappoint me,” he muses weakly. “You’re here to please me.”

When he drags your lips to his for a kiss, he whimpers in surprise when all he tastes on your saliva is smoke and ash.

[frost-queen]

A Sallow's mistake (Reader x Sebastian Sallow)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Reader has a crush on Sebastian & shows her gratitude for his friendship by buying him gifts. Sebastian & you often flirt to the annoyance of your friends, who don't like him. Yet you defend him at every turn. One day you hear Sebastian say awful things about you (after being pressured by his friends). Lashing out to Sebastian, you start ignoring him. Till you no longer can, where he confessed the truth to you.

Candles floated high up the ceiling at the great hall. Students sitting gathered a several spots. Entering the great hall, your eyes fell immediately on Sebastian Sallow. He sat on top of the table, surrounded by some of his friends. With a smile on your face, you went over to him. Sebastian stopped his discussion with Imelda upon seeing you arrive. – “Did you get my owl Sebastian?” – you asked resting your hands on the table to lean in. – “Owl?” – Sebastian answered thoughtfully, furrowing his brows a bit.

You hummed loud. – “My owl carried a package to you.” – you explained more. – “The feather…” – you finished, hoping he had received it. Sebastian let out a deep ‘ah’ of realization. – “That was your owl.” – he said as you nodded. – “Actually it was Poppy’s owl as mine was delivering a message to my parents.” – you informed him. – “Now it makes sense.” – he chuckled out.

“I was already wondering who my admirer would be.” – he leaned a bit closer to you, smiling. – “It was just a feather. I noticed in class, you’d broke yours after quibbling with Garreth” – you responded bashful. – “Not my finest moment.” – Sebastian laughed out that you had seen that.

“He can buy his own feathers.” – Imelda spoke interrupting the little moment of yours. Sebastian and you tore your gaze away, looking both at Imelda. – “I know that…” – Sebastian said smiling sheepishly. – “It is called being nice and considerate Imelda!” – you told her bitsy. Imelda started to laugh loud. – “Care to buy my school supplies as well?” – she mocked, crossing her arms. – “I’ll have a new broom Y/n.” – A Slytherin boy  called out.

Sebastian’s friends started to laugh loud, making you look at Sebastian with an embarrassed expression. Wondering what he would do. Sebastian swallowed nervously, clenching his hand as he hated seeing you upset. – “Alright enough!” – he called out, silencing his friends. – “Someone’s snappy.” – Imelda chuckled out.

Sebastian rolled his eyes at her. Sebastian got off the table, taking you by the arm as he led you away from them. – “That was really sweet of you.” – you told him. Sebastian was caught off guard for a moment, ruffling his hand through his hair. – “It’s quite alright Y/n.” – he responded.

“I’ll buy you some extra ink to go with that feather.” – you exclaimed happily. – “Y/n.” – Sebastian pulled you back before you could happily run off to do so. – “You… you do know you don’t have to buy me stuff.” – he reminded you. You curled up a smile, bouncing a bit on your feet. – “We’re friends. I don’t mind. See it as a friendship gift.” – you told him as his grip slipped off your sleeve.

“You can always praise me in other ways to show your gratitude.” – Sebastian leaned in closer to you, making you lean your head back as he was coming very close. A smirk on his face as it made you gulp bashful. His eyes drifting down to your lips, feeling his heart pound loudly for you. – “Y/n!” – your friends voices made him snap out of it. Your friends arrived, pulling you away from him by your arm.

“Leave her alone Sallow!” – one of your friends called out. Sebastian rolled his eyes at your friends, turning around to head back. You pulled hard so that their grip was off you. – “Can you just leave him alone!” – you told her, defending him. – “He wasn’t doing anything.”

Your friends rolled with their eyes. – “He has put a spell on you Y/n and you can’t even see it.” – one of your friends said, pushing you in the back to move forwards out of the great hall. – “More like a curse.” – another one of your friends pitched in. – “Stop it!” – you called out coming to a firm stop, making your friend bump against your back.

“You know nothing of him!” – annoyed you walked off, needing some air and be away from your friends. They were your best friends, but you didn’t like it that they were so against Sebastian.  On your way out, you encountered Garreth Weasley. – “Hello Y/n.” – he said, sliding an arm over you.

“Hello Garreth.” – you sighed out not really in a happy mood anymore. – “Who sucked the life out of you?” – he asked with a worried glance. – “Nothing.” – you told him as he guided you through the castle’s hallways. Garreth leaned a bit closer to you with his head to whisper. – “I know just the potion that can spark up your happiness.”

You gave him a hard stop in the side to stop being so ridiculous. – “Let me guess personally brewed?” – you laughed out. – “Yes, I’ve nearly narrowed it down if you would drink it, you’ll do me a great pleasure so I know if I did it right.” – he answered rubbing his side. – “Oh no Weasley.” – you laughed out, poking him in the chest. – “I’m not drinking any of your weird potions.” – clearing setting your boundaries.

“Oh come on Y/n.” – Garreth called out, taking your finger and swaying it around. – “For me?” – he put up the most precious look, trying to persuade you. You leaned a bit closer to him, smiling. – “No.” – you answered, smile dropping. Garreth groaned loud. – “You are no fun.” – he shouted at you as you walked off. – “Bye, bye Garreth!” – you waved over your head.

After history of magic, you were making your way over to defence against the dark arts class. Humming happily, you went up the spiral stairs. Going up and up till you reached the floor with the giant skeleton. You were walking behind it, suddenly stopping as you heard commotion. – “Be for real Sebastian.” – you heard Imelda’s voice cut through. Lowering yourself a bit, you tried to look between the bones of the skeleton to see what was happening.

You could see little as a little group of Slytherins were close to the wall. – “It’s a joke right?” – a boy called out as you caught a glimpse of Sebastian with his back against the wall. Sebastian kept receiving little shoves, pushing him more into the wall as you couldn’t understand much with everyone speaking over each other. – “Alright!” – Sebastian called out, seemingly panting out of breath.

“Of course I’m just sucking her dry. I mean if that fool keeps wasting her galleons on me, who am I to refuse such a generous offer. I’ve got her right under my thumb.” – Sebastian finished. Having moved a hand before your mouth, you couldn’t accept what you just heard.

The cruelty coming from him. Heartbroken, you tumbled down, sinking to your knees. Shaking your head as you didn’t want to cry over this boy. Clenching your hand, you wiped your tears aggressively away. Pushing yourself up, you weren’t going to let him get away with speaking so cruel about you. You appeared from behind the statue with a loud voice. – “Your uncle was right! You are a menace Sallow.” – you shouted rudely at him, not caring if it hurt him.

Sebastian’s eyes widened with a gasp upon seeing you. His friends gaping in shock at you. – “You are pathetic!” – you screamed out before running up to class. Sebastian looked shameful at the ground that you had heard that. Your words also cutting deeper into his heart than he dared to admit. Sebastian quietly went to class, seeing you stand near Leander.

Sebastian made an effort to approach you, but seeing you take Leander by his sleeve and showing your back to him, made clear to him you didn’t want to speak to him. Sebastian turned his head, gaze gliding the ground as he went to sit at the last bench. Ominis coming to sit beside him. – “What’s up with you?” – he asked, his wand flickering with a red spark. – “Nothing.” – Sebastian grunted out.

After class, you immediately left, leaving no room for Sebastian to come near. You didn’t want him near. Perhaps your friends were right about him. There were several attempts on his behalf, but you rejected them all before he could utter a word. Leaving him with nothing but guilt. This going on for 11 days now. For 11 days you had been ignoring Sebastian Sallow. Holding the invite in your hand, you so hoped Sebastian wouldn’t be there.

You loved going to crossed wands, but knew there was a chance he’d be there too. Opening the door, you arrived at the crossed wands spot. Lucan already waving you over. There were already a group of people. Leander amongst them. – “Are you ready for another round of crossed wands, Y/n?” – Lucan asked you excitedly. – “I suppose.” – you answered, looking around to be sure Sallow wasn’t around.

“I’ll let you have the first round.” – Lucan gestured at the open space as you took your place. – “Who wants to duel with Y/n?” – Lucan asked loud as Leander stepped forwards, holding his hand up. – “I’ll duel her!” – your eyes widened with gasp seeing Sebastian approach, lowering his hand. – “But I was going to duel her.” – Leander whined out. Sebastian shot him a glare.

“I’d rather duel Leander.” – you said, crossing your arms. – “Too bad sweetheart because you are duelling me today.” – Sebastian answered taking his stand. Groaning loud, you knew you had to duel him. Tightening your grip on your wand, you readied yourself. – “When you are ready.” – Lucan said to begin the duel. – “Feeling dried out now that your gifting fool isn’t spending her galleons on you anymore?” – you called out to taunt him.

“Y/n that wasn’t…” – Sebastian answered as you didn’t want to hear it. – “Stupify!” – you shouted, waving your wand at him. Sebastian casted protego as your spell vaporized. – “Will you just listen to me!” – he called out, waving his wand at you. You casted protego yourself, deflecting his spell. – “Why would I listen to someone so cruel as you!” – You responded angered, casting Levioso at him.

Sebastian got lifted up from the ground, legs dangling up in the air. – “I lied Y/n!” – Sebastian shouted trying to get himself back down. You laughed loud, not believing one bit of it. Sebastian dropped to the ground, landing firmly. – “They made me say all those awful things about you.” – he wanted you to know.

“You could’ve just told them no!” – you responded with tension in your expression. Sebastian casted a spell at you, making you roll over the ground to dodge it. – “I hate myself for giving in to it." - he confessed panting loud. You fired a basic spell at him as he used protego again. – “Can’t you see that I never meant it. Y/n what you heard were lies. I would never speak such cruelty over you.” – Sebastian let out.

“Enough!” – you shouted, waving your wand as another basic spell fired his way. – “I like you!” – Sebastian shouted loud, deflecting your spell. – “Expelliarmus!” – he called out making your wand fly out of your hand. In shock you stared at him. Sebastian panting loud. – “Now that was a duel.” – Lucan said, clapping loud. Sebastian got aware of the crowd. You lowered yourself to pick up your wand. Sebastian tugged his wand away, running over to you.

“Please Y/n, know that I regret saying it. I never meant it… please… I just want you back…” – he spoke touching your arm. Still feeling  a bit hurt, you did felt some sympathy for him. – “I… I forgive you.” – you told him, turning away to leave. – “Sebastian another round?” – Lucan offered as Sebastian held his hand up to him, telling him to stay back before running after you.

“Y/n! Y/n!” – Sebastian panted out catching up with you. You came to a stop, with a soft sigh. – “I’m giving you another chance Sebastian.” – you let him know. Sebastian curled up a smile. – “Thank you.” – he said leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. Happily he took off, making you chuckle softly. It took Sebastian about another week before asking you out for butterbeer in Hogsmeade. After that the two of you just started to love each other.

----------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[charliemwrites]

Hi :)

You should not be doing this.

It rings like church bells in the back of your mind. A funeral toll for each damning decision that is killing your divinity.

Finding the ritual. Dong!

Drawing the circle. Dong!

Spilling your own golden essence over a twisting sigil. Dong!

Tongue tripping over unfamiliar vowels and consonants. A language you know but have never spoken. Dong!

“Well,” a low, rough voice drawls, “isn’t this something special.”

You close your eyes, steel your spine. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your nerves. Tilt your head just enough to watch him from the corner of your eye, a dark and hulking shape. You’re almost startled by the size of him. Have never seen a demon like this before.

His horns curve back from his head, rams horns. You jolt a bit. A higher demon than you expected - than you meant to summon.

“Such a pretty thing,” he coos, stalking closer. “I haven’t eaten an angel in millennia….”

You nearly gasp as rough hands brush your wings. It almost burns. You twist, find him suddenly much closer than you thought. A massive hand captures your chin, jerks your head up to look at you this way and that.

“And here you serve yourself to me on a silver platter.”

He smirks, a hint of viciously sharp fang peeking out. You gather your courage, smack his hand away. The bracelets around your wrist chime.

“You are the one who’s here to serve,” you remind.

He moves faster than you can ever hope to match, crushing you to the wall, your wings pinned beneath you. A clawed hand is around your throat, tight enough to threaten oxygen if you needed it. Still you gasp, squirming and struggling, frightened by his strength. Why is he so much stronger than you?

“Mind yourself, dove,” he growls, eyes glowing like hot coals. “You may have summoned me, but that does not entitle you to my power.”

You grunt softly as he flicks at your halo, eyes stinging a bit. You’re unfamiliar with pain; Heaven is soft and kind.

“Please,” you manage.

His eyes narrow, a smirk turn to his lips. “That’s more like it. Now tell me, why would one of the host call upon a demon.”

“T-to make a deal.”

His eyebrows arch, but there’s a flicker of genuine fascination in his eyes now. The grip on your throat loosens a little, but he presses closer just a quickly, one burning line of inhuman muscle along your front.

“A deal…” His voice has dropped even lower somehow, rumbling in his chest. “Oh dove, you have no soul to sell. What did you plan to bargain with?”

“I-I don’t know,” you admit. The desperation that brought you here, made you do all this, yawns open inside you. “You name the price, but please.”

His laughter fills the room, genuine amusement this time. “You’ve no idea what you’re offering.”

You frown. “I do. I know… I know what it means. But what I’m asking for…”

He tilts his head. “And what are you asking for, angel?”

“There’s a man, a human man. When his mother passed I brought her soul to Heaven and she asked - she asked me to watch over her son…”

He arches his eyebrows. “You’re no guardian.”

“No,” you agree. Guardian angels are fierce and beautiful, a balance of warrior strength and guiding patience. They carry swords and shields, iron in their feathers. “But… I couldn’t deny her.”

“Let me guess, he’s slated for death now.”

“Hes a soldier.” Death then damnation. He has made himself a machine of suffering and it has charred his soul.

The demon hums with understanding. “You want me to save him.”

“From death,” you clarify, “the rest.., the rest I will try to do myself.”

The demon makes a little “ah” noise. “And so you’ll offer me anything to defy death. For one mortal?”

You can hear the disdain in his voice and it sparks your ire. The scent of ozone seeps into the room as your feathers ruffle.

“I don’t need to explain myself. Will you take the deal or not?” You demand. “I need to know if I should summon another - ah!”

You flinch as your head is wrenched back, throat exposed. Hot hair brushes the skin as he looms over you, fangs so so close.

“Your Heavenly Father didn’t bend you over his knee enough,” he snarls. “We’ll have to correct that.”

You swallow down a whimper, sense that it’s best you don’t push your luck.

“Very well, dove. You have your deal. I will keep your precious mortal alive.”

“And in exchange?” you ask.

He chuckles. “That is not for you concern yourself with.”

And then white hot pain explodes through your shoulder, fangs sunk deep into your shoulder. He moans at the taste of your blood on his tongue, hips jerking roughly against your stomach. It feels like a small eternity that he bites into you, leaving his mark. The contract of your unholy deal. His tongue laves cruelly over the marks as he pulls away. Gold drips from his chin as he grins at you.

“Fly home now, dove,” he says. “I will see you very soon.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[aventurineswife]

HEYY!! I just wanted to start off by saying i absolutely ADORE your work 🫶 also i have never requested before so i hope im doing this correctly lolol 😭

Could i please request a teen reader with parental figure! Aventurine?? I was thinking maybe the reader could be like Ratio's student but they don't like him all that much, so when they meet Aventurine they sorta cling to him instead. The reader follows him around, loves to give him hugs or presents, just very affectionate overal.

I feel like that'd be sooo cute. The whole Dad!Aventurine thing has been stuck in my head for days now.

Anyways, thank you!!

The Gambler’s Heart

Summary: Disillusioned by Ratio's cold, clinical demeanor, you find yourself drawn to Aventurine, one of the IPC's enigmatic Ten Stonehearts. Captivated by his charisma and warmth, you begin following him everywhere, showering him with affection, hugs, and small gifts. Though caught off guard at first, Aventurine grows into a reluctant yet protective parental figure, finding solace in the bond you share. As you help him confront his own vulnerabilities, Aventurine realizes that sometimes, the best gambles are the ones that involve the heart.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Teen!Reader, Parental Figure Aventurine, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Mentorship, Emotional Vulnerability, Protective Parental Figure.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (Aventurine's backstory), Light angst (themes of self-worth and vulnerability), Mild language and references to intense emotions.

A/N: OMG THANK YOU!! 🤭💖 ALSO, DON'T WORRY YOU DID PERFECT FOR A FIRST REQ, AND I HONESTLY LOVED THIS AND I HOPE YOU TOO!!💕

The first time you met Aventurine, it was like stepping onto a stage where the lead actor suddenly took notice of you. He was magnetic, his voice weaving through the room with a charisma that demanded attention. But what caught you wasn’t his charm—it was the warmth in his gaze, a flicker of something genuine beneath the layers of practiced bravado.

Ratio had introduced you as his “protégé,” though you hated the label. Ratio was cold, clinical, and calculating in a way that left you feeling more like a pawn than a student. His mentorship, if you could call it that, felt transactional—like he was shaping you into a tool for his own ends. So when Aventurine strolled into the room, all flair and easy smiles, you latched onto him like he was a lifeline.

“Ah, Ratio’s ward,” Aventurine greeted, his eyes glinting with intrigue as he looked you over. “Tell me, do they teach you how to smile in his classroom, or is that considered extracurricular?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, surprised by his wit. Ratio scowled, but Aventurine only winked.

From that moment on, you decided you liked Aventurine far more than Ratio.

Weeks later, Your affection for Aventurine blossomed quickly, and to everyone’s surprise—his included—you made a habit of sticking to his side whenever he was around.

“Gambler, you’ve got a shadow,” Ratio remarked one afternoon, his tone clipped as he gestured at you trailing after Aventurine through the IPC’s marble-floored halls.

“I don’t mind,” Aventurine replied, grinning down at you as you walked beside him. “Every gambler needs a lucky charm, after all.”

You beamed at that, practically skipping to keep up with his long strides.

It wasn’t just his charisma or the way he made you laugh that drew you to him. Aventurine had a knack for making you feel seen. When Ratio barked orders or critiqued your every move, Aventurine would swoop in with a sly quip or a kind word, diffusing the tension with an ease that left you in awe.

You started bringing him small gifts—things that reminded you of him. A shiny card-shaped pendant you found at a market. A peacock feather pen. Once, you even baked him cookies, though they turned out slightly burnt. He ate them anyway, ruffling your hair as he said, “Risky move, kid. I like it.”

But your favorite moments were the hugs. You weren’t sure why you started hugging him—it just felt natural, like he was a safe harbor in a stormy sea. At first, Aventurine seemed caught off guard by your affection, his body stiffening slightly before he returned the gesture. Over time, though, he grew accustomed to it, even leaning into your embraces.

“You’re gonna spoil me, kid,” he teased one evening after you wrapped your arms around him in the middle of the crowded mess hall.

“Good,” you replied, grinning up at him. “You deserve it.”

At first, Aventurine wasn’t sure what to make of you. He’d never been anyone’s role model—not intentionally, anyway. His reputation as one of the Ten Stonehearts painted him as a man of ambition, not affection. But you… You were different.

He saw pieces of himself in you—the yearning for connection, the fear of failure lurking behind your determined eyes. It was in the way you hesitated before speaking up, as if bracing for criticism, and in the way your shoulders relaxed when he offered a kind word.

You reminded him of a younger version of himself, before the world had stripped him down and rebuilt him into something harder, sharper. Protecting you, in some small way, felt like protecting the part of himself he thought he’d lost.

It was late in the evening, the halls quiet as Aventurine worked in his office, poring over the latest reports from Penacony. He barely noticed when you slipped in, carrying a steaming cup of tea you’d made for him.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted without looking up. “Burn the midnight oil too often and you’ll end up with bags under your eyes like Ratio.”

You set the cup down beside him and leaned against his desk. “I wanted to check on you. You’ve been working a lot lately.”

He paused, finally meeting your gaze. There it was again—that unwavering concern you always showed him, as if you truly believed he was worth worrying about.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words felt hollow even to him.

You frowned, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. You always say I’m your lucky charm, but you’re mine too.”

Aventurine stared at you for a moment, the weight of your words settling over him. Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his usual smirk softening into something more genuine.

“Thanks, kid,” he said quietly. “That means more than you know.”

That night, as Aventurine watched you doze off on the couch in his office, wrapped in a blanket(aka his coat) he’d draped over you, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time—a sense of peace. For all the gambles he’d taken in life, this one—letting you into his heart—felt like the best bet he’d ever made.

[venny-the-chubbyblack-writer]

Title: Birthday boy

The early morning sun filtered through the sheer white curtains of your shared bedroom, casting golden rays over the soft, earthy tones of the space. The gentle hum of city life buzzed in the distance, but the world within these four walls was calm and quiet. The bed creaked faintly as Keigo shifted in his sleep, his face half-buried in the plush pillow, golden hair splayed in every direction. His wings were draped haphazardly over the side of the mattress, feathers ruffled from a night of tossing and turning.

You stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a soft smile on your face. Today was special—Keigo’s birthday—and you were determined to make it unforgettable. For someone who spent his life constantly giving to others, today was about showing him just how deeply he was loved and cherished.

Balancing a tray in your hands, you pushed the door open with your hip and walked in, your steps light on the wooden floor.

“Happy birthday to yooouuu~” you sang softly, your voice lilting as you approached the bed.

Keigo groaned, his hand reaching out blindly to shield his eyes from the sunlight. His groggy voice was muffled against the pillow. “Is it really morning already? Can’t a guy sleep in on his birthday?”

“Not when he has a wife who’s been up since dawn making him breakfast,” you teased, setting the tray down on the nightstand. “Come on, birdbrain. Up and at ’em.”

Keigo cracked one eye open, and the sight before him immediately brought a lazy grin to his face. You were wearing one of his hoodies, the oversized fabric hanging off your shoulder and resting loosely over your curvy frame. Your dark skin glowed in the morning light, and your natural beauty took his breath away, even after all these years.

“Well, if this is how I get woken up every year, I might start looking forward to birthdays,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Flatter me later. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Keigo sat up, propping himself against the headboard as you handed him the tray. The smell of warm French toast topped with fresh strawberries and a generous dollop of whipped cream made his mouth water. Beside it was a steaming cup of his favorite coffee, prepared just the way he liked it.

“You made this?” he asked, his golden eyes lighting up as he picked up a fork.

“Of course,” you replied, sitting cross-legged beside him on the bed. “Only the best for the birthday boy.”

He took a bite, moaning dramatically at the taste. “Damn, (Y/N), you’re spoiling me. I might never leave this bed.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you warned, though your tone was light. “This is just the beginning. We’ve got a whole day planned.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, curiosity dancing in his expression. “Oh? And what exactly does my brilliant, beautiful wife have in store for me?”

You leaned in, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from his face. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Morning Adventures

After breakfast, you handed him a small, carefully wrapped gift. He tore into it with the enthusiasm of a child, revealing a sleek leather bracelet. Engraved on the band in elegant script were the words ‘Forever Your Wings.’

Keigo stared at it for a moment, his fingers tracing the engraving. “This is… wow, (Y/N).”

“It’s subtle,” you said, watching his reaction nervously. “But I thought you’d like something you could wear every day—a reminder that I’ll always have your back.”

He looked up at you, his golden eyes shimmering with emotion. Without a word, he leaned over and kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours. “I love it,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the morning wandering through the city hand in hand. You walked through the park, where Keigo insisted on picking wildflowers for you, much to the amusement of passersby. His feathers fluttered in the breeze, drawing attention from admirers, but his focus never strayed from you.

At his favorite ramen shop, he charmed the owner into giving you both extra servings, grinning smugly as you tried—and failed—to finish the massive bowl.

“You’re such a show-off,” you muttered, setting your chopsticks down in defeat.

Keigo smirked, leaning back in his chair. “What can I say? It’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be a little extra.”

The Surprise

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, you led Keigo to the rooftop of a nearby building. His wings twitched with curiosity as you covered his eyes with your hands, guiding him forward carefully.

“Okay, you can look now,” you said, stepping back.

When he opened his eyes, his breath hitched. The rooftop was transformed into a romantic haven. String lights crisscrossed above, casting a warm, golden glow. A cozy blanket was spread out beneath a small canopy, surrounded by pillows. A table held a projector and a collection of his favorite snacks, ready for an impromptu movie night under the stars.

“Wow,” he breathed, turning to look at you. “You did all this?”

You nodded, feeling a little shy under his intense gaze. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? Babe, I love it,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. His wings wrapped around you, cocooning you in warmth.

The two of you settled onto the blanket as the sky darkened, the first stars beginning to twinkle above. Keigo leaned back, his arm draped around your shoulders as you rested your head against his chest.

“This is perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft.

Evening Reflections

As the night wore on, you handed him one final gift: a small, handwritten journal.

“What’s this?” he asked, his brow furrowing in curiosity.

“Open it,” you urged.

Inside were pages filled with your handwriting, detailing memories, thoughts, and little things you loved about him. Each entry was dated, chronicling moments from the first time you met to quiet mornings spent together at home.

Keigo flipped through the pages, his eyes misty as he read your words. He paused on one entry where you’d written about the first time he let you touch his wings, how soft they’d felt beneath your fingers, and how much it meant that he trusted you with something so intimate.

“I can’t believe you did this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You cupped his face, your thumb brushing away a tear. “You deserve to know how much you mean to me, Keigo. You’re my everything.”

He pulled you into a deep kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile on his lips.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said quietly. “But I’m so damn glad you’re mine.”

You smiled, your fingers brushing through his golden hair. “Happy birthday, Keigo. I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N),” he murmured. “More than words can ever say.”

As the two of you sat beneath the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, Keigo realized that no matter how chaotic his life got, you were his sanctuary. And for that, he was endlessly grateful.

Happy Birthday, Hawks!

I love him sm 🥹

[onebadassunicorn]

His Blue-Eyed Angel

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: None, but the angst is coming in the next chapter. Get ready…

word count: 1.5k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Story tags: @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @tiredsleepyhead @celestialgilb @theflowerswillbloom @fuckingsimp4azriel

***************

Chapter 11

Y/n POV

The weeks following my victory sparring with all three of the Valkyries, Mor informed me the annual costume party was soon and decided to take me shopping for a costume.

I was excited to experience some of the nightlife in Velaris and from the stories the Inner Circle told at dinner of some of their escapades at Rita’s, the annual costume party was sure to be epic.

As Mor and I took off shopping one morning, the streets of Velaris bustled with excitement as preparations for Rita’s annual costume party reached their peak. Decorations adorned the shop windows, and laughter filled the air. I walked alongside Mor, my dark hair falling in waves down her back, my wings tucked neatly behind me. Though I had protested when Mor dragged me out for a shopping trip, I couldn’t deny the infectious energy of the season.

“You need something that turns heads,” Mor declared, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as we entered a boutique filled with racks of glittering, colorful costumes. “This is Rita’s, Y/n. You can’t just show up in something boring.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I’m not exactly trying to make a spectacle of myself.”

Mor arched a golden brow, her grin widening. “Oh, please. You should want to make a spectacle. Half the fun of this party is dressing up, and the other half is catching the eye of a certain handsome fae male.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, clearly relishing Y/n’s faint blush.

“I’m not—” I began, but Mor cut me off with a wave of her hand.

“You’re stunning, Y/n. You’ve got those wings, those dreamy blue eyes, and that figure…” Mor trailed off, making an exaggerated motion as if she were fanning herself. “If I didn’t think a certain spymaster was into you, I’d be making a move on you myself.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Mor, I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“Oh, I absolutely am,” Mor replied with a laugh, pulling a hanger off a nearby rack. “And so will you, once we find the perfect costume.”

I let myself be dragged from one display to another, watching as Mor sifted through the options with the enthusiasm of someone on a mission. Finally, Mor let out a triumphant gasp and held up a costume that made my cheeks burn.

It was a pirate costume—but not the kind you’d find on a ship. The corset was black and crimson, laced up the front with thin golden ties that would leave just enough to the imagination. The short skirt was layered with ruffled fabric, barely long enough to cover what needed covering, and the outfit came with thigh-high boots and a small tricorn hat adorned with feathers.

“This,” Mor announced, holding the costume up to me with a glint in her eyes. “This is the one.”

I stared at it, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to formulate a response. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Absolutely not,” Mor said, giving her a playful wink. “This is sexy, fun, and just daring enough to make an impression. Trust me, when you walk into Rita’s wearing this, no one will be able to take their eyes off you.”

I crossed my arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Including every drunk fae male in the room, I’m sure.”

“Exactly!” Mor said, entirely unapologetic. “And maybe one in particular will finally stop brooding in a corner long enough to actually say something.”

I flushed, glancing away. “I’m not doing this for anyone’s attention.”

“Of course not,” Mor said smoothly, though her grin suggested otherwise. “But there’s nothing wrong with reminding certain people what they might be missing.”

I sighed, though a faint smile tugged at my lips. “Fine,” I said, plucking the costume from Mor’s hands. “But if this turns into a disaster, I’m blaming you.”

“Blame away,” Mor replied breezily, practically glowing with satisfaction. “But trust me, you’re going to look incredible. And maybe—just maybe—you’ll capture the attention of a certain Shadowsinger.”

I froze, my cheeks flaming as Mor gave me a knowing look. “Mor,” I began, but the blonde simply laughed and ushered me toward the fitting room.

“Try it on, darling,” Mor called after me, her voice full of mischief. “And let’s see if we can knock Azriel off his feet.”

I shook my head, my heart pounding as I stepped into the fitting room. I couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling beneath my nerves, nor could I stop myself from wondering what Azriel might think when he saw me in this costume.

*******

Y/n POV

As I emerged from the fitting room, the pirate costume clinging to me in all the ways that Mor had promised, I found the blonde lounging casually on a velvet chair, her golden hair shimmering under the boutique’s warm lighting. Mor’s eyes lit up the moment I stepped out, her smile slow and wicked.

“Oh, Y/n,” Mor purred, standing and circling her like a predator admiring its prize. “You look… absolutely wicked and sinful.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a bit exposed despite the undeniable elegance of the outfit. “You’re enjoying this too much,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way the corset cinched my waist perfectly, the short skirt brushing against my thighs with every movement.

“Of course I am,” Mor said, grinning. “But don’t even try to deny that you look incredible. And trust me, someone is going to notice.”

I rolled my eyes, exhaling a long-suffering sigh. “If you’re talking about Azriel, don’t.”

Mor paused mid-step, one perfectly shaped brow arching as she turned to face me fully. “Oh, so you do think about him.”

I groaned, tugging at the edge of my skirt in a futile attempt to make it feel less scandalous. “Mor, I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Mor said smoothly, leaning casually against a nearby rack of costumes. Her eyes gleamed with a knowing light, but her tone softened as she continued. “Y/n, you know I love Azriel like a brother. But even I’m not blind to the way he looks at you.”

I froze, her heart skipping a beat as I glanced at Mor, startled. “What are you talking about?”

Mor stepped closer, her expression growing unusually serious. “I’m talking about the way Azriel watches you. The way his eyes follow you when you walk into a room, like you’re the only thing worth noticing. The way his entire demeanor softens when you laugh, like the sound of it is something he wants to wrap around himself and keep forever.”

My cheeks flushed, my gaze dropping to the floor as my heart pounded in my chest. “You’re imagining things,” I said quietly, though the words lacked conviction.

“I’m not,” Mor said firmly, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “I’ve known Azriel for centuries. I’ve seen him at his darkest, at his most guarded. But when he’s around you? He’s different. Lighter. Like you’re pulling him out of the shadows without even realizing it.”

My throat tightened, my mind racing with memories of Azriel—the way his hazel eyes would linger on me a moment too long, the faint, almost imperceptible smile that would curve his lips when I teased him. The way his shadows seemed to quiet around me, as though even they recognized me as something special.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, though my voice wavered.

Mor smiled softly, her golden eyes warm with understanding. “I think you do. And I think you feel the same way, even if you’re too scared to admit it.”

My head snapped up, my wings twitching faintly behind me. “It’s not that simple, Mor. Azriel has… a lot of walls. And I’m not even sure he sees me that way.”

“Oh, he does,” Mor said with a certainty that made my chest tighten. “Believe me, he does. And this costume? This is just going to remind him that you’re not only the strongest, most incredible female he’s ever met—but also the most beautiful.”

I stared at her, my heart a mix of uncertainty and hope. “What if you’re wrong?”

Mor grinned, the playful light returning to her eyes. “I’m never wrong about these things, darling. Now, let’s go buy that costume, so you can see for yourself just how hard Azriel is going to fall.”

I shook my head, but a faint smile tugged at my lips. “You’re crazy.”

“And you love me for it,” Mor quipped, looping her arm through mine and steering me toward the register. “Now let’s go make some magic happen at Rita’s.”

As we left the boutique, I couldn’t help the faint flutter of anticipation in my chest. Perhaps Mor was right. Perhaps Azriel did look at me the way I had never dared to hope. And maybe, just maybe, tonight would be the night I found out for sure.

Chapter 12

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader: evermore

warnings: penacony spoilers, heavily references ‘the raven’ bc that’s canon, reader is called Lenore once but it’s a reference not their actual name, description of dead bird (but not a real bird)

summary: something is lurking around your apartment, luckily someone is there to stop it. and it’s someone nobody’s seen in awhile.

Once upon a midnight dreary, where you pondered weak and weary. The sun has set, but the buzz of the city leaks through the walls, doing nothing but lull you further into slumber. Turning over, lifting the sheets over your head is when you hear it-

rat-tat-tat

‘there’s someone knocking on my door,’ you think, just when you were about to nod off. You roll over, back facing the wall, hoping to just ignore it, but sleep doesn’t come.

Distinctly you remember, it was on that bleak Saturday; and each harmonious note wrought its melodies upon the air. Eagerly you wished the morrow;-vainly you had sought to borrow from books cease of sorrow.

sorrow for the lost and radiant bachelor— whom the angels name, Sunday.

Planets that once worshiped the Order shined brightest before their collapse. And so he too fell like the morning star.

Nameless here forevermore.

The silken rustling of the curtain gouges a pit in your stomach. Then fills you with terrors of uncertainty. Just who could be knocking at your door. To still your beating heart, you stand still, listening. Thoughts repeating in your head, “just some visitor entreating at my door, probably a salesman. Nothing more.”

Perhaps then your soul grew stronger with the mantra. Without hesitating you walk to the door, “sir or ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s late for me. I was asleep until I heard your knocking. It was pretty quiet, so I wasn’t sure I heard you but-“ I opened the door wide,

Darkness there and nothing more.

You stare deep into that darkness. As if your mind tries to fill the void, you stand there dreaming. The mumble of the outdoors is no longer audible. The hair on your arms raise at the silence.

The only sound there to be spoken was a whispered word, “Sunday?” An echo at the back of the hall whispered back “Sunday?”

Just you, again. Merely this and nothing more.

Turning back around into the room, you shut the door. With your back turned, soon you hear another rat-tat-tat, louder than before. The sound is coming from your window. With one foot in front of the other, slowly you encroach upon the threat. Your heart in your ears and the shaking in your limbs, “surely, there’s something…please just be wind.”

Swiftly you pull back the curtains. The window was already open. On the window sill stood a man with grey wings, long past his saintly days.

“Wha-Sunday!”

Taking a closer look at him, you notice black feathers adorned on his white suit. Then see him grasping a raven tightly in his hand, its dark plumage ruffled and disorderly with its mouth agape. The bird had a peculiar eye in the center of his chest.

“Not the raven you were expecting, right?” Sunday smiles but the expression doesn’t match his eyes, “I found him snooping around your lodging. It seems the dream master, well former dream master, hasn’t let up even in my and the order’s absence.”

Could it have been that the “knocking” was that “raven” pecking at your door? The former dream master? He had once told you about the man, Golpher Wood, who raised him and his sister. But it seems he didn’t tell you everything.

While you were staring, Sunday took the opportunity to let himself in. Plucking off the black feathers off his clothes.

“Never mind that! Where have you been? I thought you died. No one’s seen you since…” dominicus. You leave that part unsaid, not like he needs a reminder.

He avoids your gaze, looking off to the side, “I’ve been…busy. Sorting out some personal business out on my own.”

“Sunday. Robins been worried about you. If you won’t tell me, then at least tell her.”

“No, I don’t want her involved in this. She’ll be fine since the family is protecting her but, you’re an outsider. I don’t trust them with you.” He shakes his head, his hand behind his back, always in that contemplative manner.

“Why not?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips.

“Did you not see the ‘raven’ corpses lined up out your door? I saw you open it.” He saw all that too? The hallway was so dark that you didn’t dare venture out least you alert an intruder. The thought of someone out there watching you made your heart pound.

“Truth be told, I didn’t want you to see me yet.” Sunday mumbles. It seems that habit of his hasn’t gone away since you’ve last seen him.

“Are you going away again?” Your hands drop at your side.

“Yes. For now. The family has a target on me. Regrettably, I really messed up. My intention was to help, but it seems I’ve only succeeded in making a political upheaval,” he sighed.

“At least, promise me this, that your presence won’t be nevermore. That you’ll visit again.”

With the grace of a seraphim, his hands cup your face bringing it closer to his, “Of course, my sweet Lenore,” and lays a chaste kiss upon your lips.

“By that Heaven that bends above us—by that Aeon we both adore, tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, it shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

a/n: this was so experimental from whatever I do. finals beating me rn so im losing it but i saw references of this poem in the game and it matches so well with sunday and gopher wood that i had to write something with it 👍 even if my brain is fried

[alexa-fika]

Claws Down (Thatch x f!cat!reader)

Pt 1

AN Omg guys back to back posts? It had been a hot minuteee since I managed that! Idk what came over me I just came across Claws out and I was like man I have the perfect thing for this plus someone expressed they were interested in so ha perfect! Two birds one stone

Here Reader is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

"Come on, Kitty, Don' look at me like that." Thatch laughed as he continued to chop the carrot in front of him.

"Why am I here." she sneered, pulling at her hands, the restraints clinking against the table as she did

"Why, it's my Kitty Watch."

"I don't need to be watched over like some toddler, and Don't call me that," she snapped back.

"Oh, come on, don't get your feathers ruffled. Besides, you really gave us no choice. We can't have an aggressive stowaway runnin’ around the ship as we sail, much less you, who seem to love tryin’ to claw at people."

"I don't even have my nails out; you guys made sure of that," she growled, gesturing at the sea-stone bracelet that hung on her wrist.

"Ya sent a crewmate to the med bay cause you clawed at him even with that on," he reminded her, snickering as she continued to glare at him.

Why so mad, Kitty?" he teased, sliding his chopped vegetables into a pot as he stirred it.

"I told you to stop calling me that, and you tell me why would I be mad about being stuck with a bunch of sweaty pirates cuffed to the damn counter?"

"Gee," he said as he scooped some of the soup into a bowl and put it in front of her.

"Here I am making your food, and you're just being mean to me, and besides, Marco warned ya that if ya hurt someone, the cuffs go back on; it's not on me," he pouts.

She rolled her eyes and sent him a mocking smile as she put her restraints up and jiggled them.

"You goin’ to be nice?" he asked as he made his way around the counter, taking a key from his pocket.

"Just get them out."

He shook his head but did as she asked, pulling the restraints off her with a slight 'clink.'

"Finally," she huffed, turning back to the plate in front of her, grabbing the spoon provided, and beginning to eat slowly.

"See, I knew you would come aroun’, Kitty!" he said, sitting on the stool beside her.

She simply glanced at him, taking him in, analyzing him as her hold on the utensil tightened.

"Kitty..." He warned

She looked up at him with a slight glare and lunged at him, smashing the spoon against his hand.

He let out a hiss at the action but quickly extended his other hand to catch the fleeing girl and dodging her attempt at clawing his face off.

"Now wait a cotton pickin’ minute, Little Lady, I thought we were making progress," he said, pulling her back first into his chest as he held both of her wrists in a hugging fashion as she attempted to dig her nails into him, much like their first encounter.

"Like hell we are," she cried struggling against his hold, quickly realizing she was no match for him in strength, so she changed her tactic, digging her heel into his.

"Whoa there," he called as he avoided her stomping attempts ad he quickly wrapped one of his legs against hers, trapping them against the stool he sat on.

"You insufferable fucking hair for brains," she wailed as she tried to buck him off as he struggled to keep her restrained against him.

This continued for a while until she eventually tired herself out, and only the sound of their heavy breathing echoed in the kitchen.

"Ya done with the hissy fit?" he muttered.

"Let me go."

"Please, just don't try to run away again."

"Or what, you will cuff me again?" she glumly replied.

"Again, Kitty, we don't want to; in fact, we wouldn't mind havin’ a stowaway walkin’ around; we've had a few, and they are free to roam around. The reason you have restraints is because you keep hurtin’ my brothers; you will hurt yourself, too, eventually," he explains, looking down at her.

"If you can promise to stop hurtin’ them and doing reckless stuff, ya’ are free to roam aroun’," he finishes.

"If that is the problem, why did you stop me from leaving the first day you saw me?"

"Because ya were going to steal our boat!" he exclaimed baffled.

"Oh please, you guys can handle missing one junior boat" she called, rolling her eyes.

"It aint about that; it's about the principle!" he cries.

"You're pirates!"

"Listen, just promise ya won't hurt anyone or steal from us and ya are free to go." He pleads

"Fine," she hollered, stumbling her way up as he suddenly released her. She turned back to glare at the man, who stared back at her with an innocent look on his face.

"For now," she added, much to his disappointment.

"I'm sorry, kitty, but if ya hurt someone, the cuffs are coming back on," he warned, shaking said restraints in the air

“So mind your P’s and Q’s darlin”

"And the sea stone?" she questions

"Sorry, that stays kitty. Like I said, you have already sent a couple of my brothers to the clinic with scratches without the seastone, so we can't risk letting your Claws out."

She let out a grumble but left it at that, glancing at the counter.

Thatch notices her stare, and he grins as he realizes what she had set her sights on

"So ya did like the soup!" he grinned.

"Shut up, don't let it get to your head. I just haven't had a decent meal in a while," she snapped as she climbed back to the stool and resumed eating.

"Don't worry about tha’." he smiles, leaning against his hand and watching her gulp the soup down.

"We will keep you well fed here, even if only until our next stop; you will not go hungry."

She paused her eating to look at him, mouth agape, only to shake it moments later and continue her previous task.

"Thank you."

"Na problem, Kitty."

"Stop calling me that."

"Awe come on!"

What we thinking? When I was writing this it gave me the idea that maybe I could do a chapter for each member, thoughts?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@acpola01

[earthtooz]

just a quick hawks idea that came to me <3 it's awkward lol but gn and pro-hero!reader

you might need to put your agency on lockdown.

admittedly, a hero agency going into lockdown was incredibly hypocritical, but when the threat was the number two hero himself, hawks, you can’t take any risks. everything must be secured so he cannot step even one foot into the premise or you’ll call emergency out of desperation and exasperation.

of course in the case of an actual lockdown, you would be expected to be there on the front lines which means you’d be the one responsible for being face-to-face with the problem. and if hawks flashed that charming smile at you or laughed that boyish laugh of his, you’d be surrendering. easy defeat.

but, the moment you’ve been dreading all day comes a little sooner than you expected, when three knocks on your door abruptly capture your attention and in comes one of your assistants. 

“ah, l/n? hawks is here and wants to see you,” she says, sounding a little overwhelmed. hawks can be intimidating when he doesn’t mean to be after all and well, you too were dreading meeting him for completely different meetings.

“don’t send him in,” you blurt, causing your assistant to widen her eyes in shock. you know she has the urge to ask why but quickly nods in affirmation before disappearing behind the office door once more. 

crisis averted. or so you thought as a sturdy, red feather begins dancing on your desk, one that you knew wasn’t there before.

it must’ve slipped in alongside your assistant and your heart drops at the realisation, especially when it becomes gesturing to your window; a signal you somehow recognise. 

“oh my goodness,” you mutter before turning around in your chair, coming face-to-face with the winged hero as he taps impatiently on your window, your chest already beginning to compress with the way your heart rate increased, and a thrill of exhilaration runs its course through your veins; two natural reactions that happen very commonly whenever you’re around hawks.

you hurriedly shut the curtains on his face, not having long to rejoice before his feather lifts up a portion of the blinds to reveal his unimpressed expression, coupled with an amused eyebrow raise and a dangerous smirk. hawks then gestures upwards with his pointer finger and you knew immediately that he meant to meet you on the rooftop of your agency; a place he likes to crash onto whenever he wants to. 

(you once asked him if he had better things to do than hangout on the top of your building and he replied that he’s there because he’s bored but you know otherwise. if there’s something about hawks it’s that he’s never free. his schedule was worse than yours and even then, yours was unmanageable. where he found a slot to loiter around your establishment, you don’t know. the bigger philosophical issue was why.)

you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to go but the rooftop and the wing that clung to your hero clothes was only emphasising the direness of your situation.

the moment you open the card-regulated door of your rooftop, hawks is already waiting for you, his face bursting into a dazzling smile as a glimmer appears in his eyes, ones that rivalled the sun. 

“there you are, sweetheart!” he greets, fluffing up his wings as the singular feather trailing beside you returns to its rightful owner. he takes generous steps towards you whilst you take smaller ones to meet him in the middle, your arms crossed over your chest in hopes of maintaining an apathetic front to deter him. 

it must not have been working because he does not look fazed. not one bit. 

“what are you doing here?” you grumble, subtly admiring the way his ruffled hair blows with the wind and how radiant he looks with the sun shining upon him. “don’t you have things to do that are more productive than bother me?”

“i am being productive; i’m chasing up on a deal that i made with you. maybe you need a little reminder to what it was?”

“please, don’t start-”

“-if i placed above you in the hero rankings this year, i would get to take you out on a date. remember anything along those lines, pretty?” 

you hide your face from him, using your hands to cover your eyes as you look away.

him, being the embodiment of your worst nightmares (daydreams), bends around so he would appear in your eyesight again and when you catch a glimpse of him, you just shut him out again using your hands. a deep chuckle spills from the winged hero at your childish insistence, genuinely entertained and infatuated by you.

“c’mon, stop ignoring me. i earned this date fair and square.”

“if i do not see, i do not perceive, please leave me alone.”

“oh c’mon number six, i’ve already placed reservations at a hot place i’ve been meaning to try together. won’t you be nice?”

removing your hands, you meet his gaze with a perplexed one of your own. “i’m serious, hawks, i have work to take care of. don’t you as well? we can’t just take breaks whenever.”

“and i’m serious about this date. so much so that i rostered more sidekicks on today than i normally do. everything is being taken care of so stop worrying, would i really be japan’s number two hero if i didn’t plan out every last detail?”

you huff, signalling his defeat. he was right. his surveillance abilities were off the charts. if anyone knew where danger was happening the second it occurred, it would be hawks. just- does he have to be so smug about it? it feels like he’s rubbing salt in the wound of your defeat yesterday at the hero rankings.

“fine,” you give in with an ungracious eye roll. “let’s go to this hot pot reservation of yours since you’re so insistent about how diligent you are.” 

“oh, do you find that attractive?”

“how about you take me out before i regret it?”

“as you wish!”

[chao-thicc-hcs]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

Can you maybe do bonten Mikey,Sanzu,Koko and Rindou with a very touchy or shows love by touch S/O! Please🙏 🧚‍♀️PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE🧚‍♀️

your wish is my command✨

Having a touchy/affectionate s/o!

featuring: bonten!mikey; sanzu; kokonoi; rindou

genre: fluffy fluff

warning(s): mentions of blood and intestines

mikey↷

he's initially reluctant to your touches, and the sudden hugs you gave him shook him to the core

he's not used to such way of bonding with someone. He's unfamiliar with the whole "lovey-dovey" thing

warms up quickly. He yearns for it, he desires it, but is too afraid to admit it vocally, and he just kind of.. returns the favor

hugs you from behind and places his chin on your head

''Y/n, can you touch me like that again, please?" is the most you will ever hear

mikey loves observing the way you get excited when he reciprocates your touch and returns your hugs and kisses

he doesn't remind himself to do anything touchy until you touch his arm or hug him, mainly because he isn't used to physical touch. you always initiate everything, and it hints him to wrap his arm around your shoulder or waist

he might say it is "suffocating" but deep inside he wants more

is the small spoon so he can feel the comfort of your hugs

buys you food as a gratitude for not being afraid of being yourself around him

sometimes he'd come home and pretend to be grumpy, just so he can have an excuse to cuddle you tighter

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

Mikey hated to be touched. Absolutely despised the thought of someone being near him or even simply poking him. He even remembered breaking Sanzu's finger because he dared to touch him once when he was a tad bit too excited about a person he murdered.

However, something about you flicked a switch inside of him. Every time you'd wrap your hands around his torso and say his name in a cutesy melody, every time you'd pinch his cheek, nudge his shoulder or even ruffle his already disheveled hair felt as if his stomach was churning and burning with passion.

Much to everyone's surprise, the oh invincible Mikey, head of the most feared organization - Bonten - had a soft spot for his sweet lover, letting her visit his office, bringing her to meetings and even not getting mad at her for interrupting his speech with her sudden cheek kisses. He'd glare at you, but just to appear tough in front of the others, never daring to say anything else.

But oh... Mikey on the inside is a putty. Only you knew how he submitted willingly to your feather touch that soothed his broken soul, making him toss aside all the thoughts plaguing his mind, focusing only on the warm embrace you'd give him when he's alone with you, where he can finally give in and cease pretending he's tough in front of his colleagues.

A faint smile could be seen plastered onto his face whenever you came inside his office for a visit and bring his favorite meal, or even just sit down and keep him company.

-Mikeyyyy~- your chirpy voice could be heard from the very beginning of the large hall you had to pass to reach the room.

In the middle of a meeting, Mikey cracked a small smile that he managed to conceal from his subordinates, shaking his head and sighing. You went inside the room and hopped to his desk, sitting down on his lap with force, making him oof a little.

-I brought you this! A new flavor of taiyaki the store had to offer! I want to see you try them!

-Later, Y/n. I am at a meeting.-Mikey retorted and placed his hand at the small of your back

His subordinates were watching with shock, slack-jawed as the scene unwrapped in front of them.

-Pleasee! I woke up early just to get it fresh for you out of the bakery...-you pouted, holding the taiyaki in your hands

Mikey let out a long, tired sigh and just took the treat, unwrapping it and splitting it in half, giving the other to you.

-Now, quiet, let's finish the meeting.

You nodded and shared the treat with your lover while everyone's eyes were focused on the both of you. The man took his time and resumed what he was talking on about with you on his lap. The rest of the Bonten members, however, couldn't seem to focus on his words, still visibly shook by the way their boss almost appeared vulnerable in front of them.

-If you all ever speak up about this, I will make you eat your intestines like spaghetti bolognese.-he hissed under his breath, earning a light nudge to his shoulder from you.

sanzu↷

sanzu is either super touchy or avoids you all day in the beginning, no in between

even when he tries to avoid your touch, you somehow manage to still find yourself snuggling him

he likes it, but the fucker is weird and awkward and always says shit like "you smell good" and sniff your neck or something

regardless, he doesn't really mind you clinging onto him

as time passes he'd get hella obsessive over you, wanting you by his side at all times

on the days where he doesn't feel touchy, he'd just hold your hand, nothing more

bought you a pillow of his face on days where he had to be gone for longer lmfao

he'd ask you to put lipstick on and leave stains on his cheek, neck and a little on his clothes

speaking of kisses, he'd also want you to place pecks all over his face when he comes back home

he loves it when you lay onto him and just lay on his chest <3

over time, he starts being a bit clingy too, always following you like a pet

brags about you to the others. they're sick of his constant ramblings, but they respect you for taming his horses for a short while so they put up with it

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

If Sanzu had the powers to take all the stars down for you - he'd do it.

Instead, he saw them all aligned in your eyes. Looking at the picture of you smiling on his phone, hugging the cat you recently adopted, his heart ached and his legs almost gave up at immense yearning to have you in his arms. And listen as you rant about your day while you squeeze the air out of him.

The messages piled up, he knew you were sleeping, but he couldn't stay still without making sure you were notified how he is. Sitting on top of one of the dead bodies he had to dispose of, the world around him took the role of a poison ivy wrapping around his neck, raising the pressure that was building up from him not being next to you, sleeping peacefully.

....

The door closed. Empty apartment with a breath of fresh air. It was dark, quiet. Sanzu took off his attire and threw it in the laundry basket. He wanted to snuggle next to you as soon as he could, but he didn't want to be dirty.

Lukewarm drops of water fell down his torso and back, relaxing every muscle. Sighing under the sudden feeling of comfort, Sanzu cleaned off every splurt of blood he had left on his body. The shower was quick but refreshing enough, and he didn't bother to completely dry his body or hair before putting on boxers and approaching your shared bedroom.

His arm wrapped around you and caressed your sides gently, making sure you don't wake up. However, you turned around, seeming to have been awake for a while. You put an arm and leg around him, pulling him closer to you, while he let out a sigh.

-Missed you, babygirl.

-Missed you too, hun. Now I am here.. get some rest, I can see you're extremely tired.

He placed gentle and sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbone, squeezing you tight against him.

-Night...

-Night..~

izana↷

he will be so stiff in the beginning

his expression will be blank, as if he isn't affected by your touch, and he will blurt out stuff like "why are you being so clingy?"

but the moment you try and pull away he'd grab you and hug you back

"didn't say i don't like it"

he'd let you cling onto him, but most of the time he will not reciprocate it, especially in public

calls you annoying but with a hint of affection in his tone

pats your head a lot

when he comes from work, he'd always lean into your face, expecting you to kiss his cheek

over time he will get used to it, and will start returning touches every time

always has you either on his lap or laying on top of him

his smile doesn't leave his face when you're near him, and he'd often daydream about you when you talk about stuff while hugging him or just by touching him lightly

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

You were rummaging through your wardrobe in distress, searching for a certain outfit that you were planning to combine for days. Izana was sitting on the bed with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk and letting out light chuckles here and there.

-'Zana, help me out here!-you whined out, which only got out another chuckle from your boyfriend

-I told you to fold your clothes properly yesterday. You insisted on lazing with me and here you are, suffering the consequences.

You glared at his shit-eating grin but kept on going. Your eyes lit up when you finally found the clothes you were planning on wearing today. Swiftly, you put on the outfit and spun around.

-Whaddya think?

Izana just kept on staring, smiling as if he saw you for the first time ever. His eyes analyzed your entire figure as you spun around and posed for him. To him, you were like a fresh oil painting - a beautiful creature depersonalizing even the shiniest of background by just mere existence - that he'd never want to look away from. His eyes analyzed your figure, his limbs felt weak. Before he realized it, he was daydreaming, and you found your way plopping onto his lap.

-Zanaaa, are you listening?-you tilted your head to the side, placing your arms on his shoulders

His arms quickly wrapped around your figure, and he laid down his torso on the bed, holding you tight and running his hand up and down your spine.

-You look mesmerizing, my dear. You took my breath away.

His gaze confirmed it all. Izana was lovestruck and he never hid that fact, contrary, he expressed it with pride, making sure you soak up the emotions of sheer adulation intertwined between his words and touches.

-But I prefer what's under it...

You chuckled and kissed his nose, nuzzling it after. -Later, baby, after our date.

koko(nut)↷

loves, loves, LOVES it

he always calls you to sit on his lap during work, because he spends half his time typing on a laptop

he'd take occasional breaks to wrap both his arms around you and squeeze you tightly

nuzzles in your chest all the time

begs for your clinginess in a more subtle manner, like nudging you with his head, poking your side so you feel a ticklish sensation, press his lips against your shoulder and all that

buys you one of those socks with bunny ear magnets that connect when you're near each other so he has an excuse to cling onto you too

challenges you on who will be more affectionate with the other one (you always win)

gets so attached to you that he even sits on the toilet while you shower, spilling tea with you

likes to wrap you like a burrito in a blanket and then hug you

on days when he's feeling lazy, he'd let you lay onto him while letting out all the affection you have for him

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

The morning sunlight crept through the curtains of the room, illuminating your soft features as you were soundly asleep. Kokonoi, on the other hand, had already woken up and was admiring the way your face was squished under your palm, his smile not leaving his face.

His hands were caressing your sides, body barely covered from the thin sheets loosely wrapped around your thighs. He pulled your body closer to his by your hips, earning a groan from you as you absentmindedly wrapped your hands around him.

He had to get up, but he didn't want to. Kokonoi wanted to cherish the last remaining minutes he had with you before getting ready for work. His body felt heavy, and he barely even lifted his head up before his torso following.

As he was about to get up from the bed, he felt two hands wrap around his waist. He whipped his head back, just to see you holding him, murmuring something under your sleepy breath.

-Stay...-you whined out, tightening the grip on his waist

Kokonoi giggled, caressing your head and playing with a strand that was right in front of your face. This sight made him want to melt into the mattress and never get up from it with you next to him. He placed a smooch on your cheek, holding his lips on your soft skin for a bit longer.

-Can't, I got work to do, or Mikey will kill me, you know?

-Hmph..-you hummed like a child and turned around, covering your head with the sheet

You felt two hands suddenly pull you closer by your hips, earning another hum from you. Your head turned around to get a glimpse of your lover looking at you with sultry eyes.

-Maybe I can stay for a bit longer, just so my princess gets her ample amount of morning kisses.

You smiled and turned around to face him, cupping his face and commencing a kissy battle with him.

rindou↷

sulky babyboy and i mean it

doesn't like pda, and would often tell you to hold your horses at least when he's outside or with other bonten members

if you insist on being all clingy with him, he still wouldn't push you away, ever. he loathes seeing you upset from not hugging him

rindou yearns for your touch, especially after he's home from a long, tiring day. your arms around him relaxes him in an instant

he'd just sit there, arms crossed while letting you squish his cheeks, kiss his entire face and throw yourself onto him

has tons of videos on his phone of you biting his arms, blurry pictures and videos of you approaching him with your hands open and etc.

enjoys banters, a lot. he'd deffo try and restrain you with his hands while you fight for your life to let yourself go, saying you're being "too clingy and need to be restrained" (Affectionately)

sometimes he'd pretend to wipe off the kisses you give him and will giggle at your offended gasps

he always falls asleep between your thighs first, then proceeds to lazily crawl next to you and hug you

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

Your lover couldn't cease the loud laughter coming from his mouth when he managed to annoy you for the third time this afternoon.

You were sulking, arms and legs crossed as you sat on the couch, staring into the TV screen like a toddler who got refused an ice popsicle.

Rindou took his time to calm his laughter down and ease his stomach. The view of you like this made him melt, he found you more than just adorable. You however, had a hard time sharing such feelings.

You wanted to cuddle him, and practically latched onto him like a leech, but he had other plans for today. He annoyed the shit out of you with sly remarks and even trying to jokingly push you away, which didn't earn a pleasant reaction from you.

After some time, he approached the couch and placed his head onto your lap, still grinning like an idiot while looking up at you.

-Aw c'mon, don't be sulky, Y/n. I was joking. -he said in between his giggles

You let out a "humph" and turned your head around, trying to scoot away a little so his head plops onto the couch. Rin sat properly on the couch and placed you to sit in between his legs, kissing your neck.

-...your jokes aren't funny, Rin. Apologize to me now, or I won't hug you today.

He rolled his eyes at this, but he couldn't deny that he'd rather sink in a pile of horse shit than deprive himself from your hugs because of his stubbornness.

-I'm sorry, baby. You know I love you and your hugs, right? -he spoke softly, nuzzling his head in your neck

-I know you do, so who am I to deprive you from them? -you chuckled, caressing his cheek

©chao-thicc-hcs; reblogs are deeply appreciated

[shotmrmiller]

I saw the last ask about Reader snapping at 141 and, well, now I need to see how Graves takes care of Reader and properly integrates them into his shadows.

I can already imagine Graves and the shadows welcoming her with open arms, patting her shoulder, fist bumps and giving Reader affectionate nicknames that are entirely based on the reader's behavior and quirks, not at all based on the reminder of someone else.

I usually am not a Graves person but this piqued my interest immediately.

you're always cheek-by-jowl with the other shadows.

hands ruffle your hair, affectionate shoves of the shoulder, friendly spars, and occasionally, bed sharing with some of the company.

platonically, of course.

you feel at home, with family. how it should've been with the 141.

i like to think that graves' kindness eventually starts worming into your broken heart, mending it with gold epoxy.

and maybe lines are blurred, pleasure is mixed with business and eventually, the shadow company has to work with the task force.

they start to notice how close you are with your commander. casual hip bumps, lingering touches, smouldering looks.

does this make simon ball his hands into fists?

will gaz look away, his jaw feathering as he clenches it?

is this the catalyst that compels price to finally speak to you, and not at you?

does simon snarl out a remark, and calls you a scarlet woman?

"let anyone in between your legs, little bunny?"

before you get a chance to snap your teeth at him, graves slings an arm over your shoulder and drags you away from the brood of vipers.

"don't worry about them, sugar. the only one you have to answer to is me."

[salubriwrites-blog]

Hellooo if you're still taking requests, could you please write a little something involving cuddling Andrealphus? Like I'd love nothing more than to have him laying on me and I get to play with his hair like I need him to be real so bad omg

I GOT YOU BOOBEAR Warrior and the Worrier

"You're home," you called from the front room, snapping your text book shut at the same time as he closed the front door. Staggering implications existed on the punctuation of that sentence. Was there ever a doubt that he would? Of course not, you were relieved every time the door closed and you heard the ruffling of feathers and sliding of leather on the ground.

When it came to the battles against Heaven, Andrealphus was an unparalleled warrior in his skill. All of the devils of Niflheim were master butchers, cleaving paths open for a clear shot into Heaven's gates. Every war needed someone like Andrealphus. You on the other hand were a worrier ,who paced the empty rooms and searched the lone skies for a signal that all was well. Warriors like Andrealphus needed worriers like you, something to look forward to that wasn't carnage and uncertainty. Worriers like you needed warriors like Andrealphus, someone to fight away your doubts and bring you trophies of peace of mind.

Dragging himself into the front room, the butcher devil was tugging his gloves off by their bloodied fingers. Each haggard step dislodged his pants from around his hips until he was out of them completely. Out of his clothes and into your arms, Andrealphus greeted you with a heavy huff. Andrealphus' nonverbal cues didn't stress or worry you, sometimes he just couldn't bring himself to talk after a day of duties. Screaming orders and responses, dying to be heard over the dying cries of friends and foes, words could be too much. He trusted you, and that you'd know what to do with him.

"I know," you soothed, hiking his arms to drape down your shoulders in a loose embrace. Together you stood in the room, allowing him to lean into you and slouch his posture. "Do you want to take a bath?"

Huff, he replied and he let you walk him into the bare bathroom. The tub was deep and long, so you were able to fit yourself behind the devil when he stepped into the warm water. Armed with an old song your mother used to sing and a sponge, you used long strokes down his back to clean the blood away.

"Gonna wash that dirt right out of your hair, I'm gonna wash that dirt right out of your hair," you sang lightly in time with the sponge. Its texture turned red and clotted as his skin paled and pinked. In his shoulders you could make out the divots where the joints of his angel wings dug into the skin, and you took extra care of the callused flesh.

It made you happy when he hummed tonelessly along, drawing Andrealphus from that dark place he went to wasn't easy. Long hunts with no sign of the angel he truly wanted to destroy sat on his mind often. Every day Raphael lived was another day that Andrealphus carried the guilt of his survival. Getting to press your naked chest against his freshly cleaned back was necessary respite. A carnal reminder that there was more to the hunt than just a clean kill.

Once the bathtub was drained and the faint pink traces were scrubbed away, you helped Andrealphus into a bathrobe and then bed. Laying down first, you waited as he walked around like an animal. Using his fingers and senses, Andrealphus found the softest place to land was against you. Straddling your sides and working his arms beneath you, he navigated his horns so as not to puncture you while he listened to your breath. His weight was just enough to crush down your own doubts and worries. The ones that took root when he wasn't there, because he was here now. He was here, unharmed and in your arms.

Using your fingers you brushed out his hair, holding and running it through your fingers like a spool of thread. Countless thin hairs that caught the light, webbing through the air and spreading out on the bed. Letting your mind wander, you mused about what to do with it this time. Andrealphus had so much, letting it loose was hazardous as it got caught on things, collecting debris like a net wherever he went.

Gathering it up, you smiled to yourself as a design to shape in your mind, and your fingers began to move. Parting and brushing out the strands, you lapped them over each other, pulling apart and detangling as you went.

"What are you doing this time?" He murmured from the crook of your neck, where his breath was warm and made your still wet skin tingle. Andrealphus was talking about the braid you were crafting, he couldn't stop talking and bragging about your handiwork to his comrades. It was art that he could touch, and it thrilled the devil to become your canvas.

There you are, you thought to yourself as he shifted his posture to let you find more hair. There's my sweet Andre. "It's called a fishbone braid," you explained, helping his hand reach back to feel the pleats. "It's good for extra long hair like yours, but it takes a while."

"That's okay," he sighed, nuzzling back into you and huffing a contented sigh. "I might fall asleep."

"That's okay," you said back, using some of the strands of his hair to tickle his nose and eyelashes. "I could use a nap too."

Relaxing totally into his place against your heart, Andrealphus only mumbled little words here and there. Enough to keep you both awake, but not so much that the shifting of his head disrupted your weaving. When you were done, you tied off the tips of his hair with a fresh band and draped it between his fingers so he could feel the finished product.

"Feels complicated," he drowsed, in that tedious place between asleep and awake. "I like it, thank you."

"You have the perfect hair for it," you reminded him, working your fingers underneath the robe that absorbed all the bathwater. He groaned into your touch as you locked your fingers on the small of his back, pinning yourselves in place. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," the warrior agreed, happy to dispel your worries that he'd return.