First Kiss - Tumblr Posts

Prompt 64

Jaskier has been cursed to turn into a Lark during the day for years now. It makes following his dreams very difficult, what with a lark not being able to carry a lute nor his money pouch, but he just waits to move at night, when the magic turns him back into his human form. Which means he technically has a very awful sleep schedule, but that's not what we're focusing on. Jaskier is sat in a tree one afternoon, trying to sleep, when a horse neighs below him. He peeks down and to his surprise sees a witcher. A witcher! What stories he must have! Jaskier must follow him so that he can ask him questions once he becomes human again! So a very sleepy bird follows after Geralt, twittering and singing all the while. Geralt evidently notices, but ignores the bird for the most part. That is, until the bird lands on Roach's back. Geralt sighs. These birds will stop at nothing... He reaches into his pack, and plucks off a few pieces of bread, and scatters them along the road behind them. He watches as the bird eagerly hops down and pecks at them. Jaskier isn't usually one for eating off the ground, but he's technically a bird right now, and he really mustn't let free food go to waste! It's only after he's finished his banquet that he notices the witcher has ridden off. Oh drat. He'll try and find him that night. When he's not so tired. The next day, Geralt is sat at his camp with Roach, and is surprised to see the same hungry lark as yesterday flying over to sit beside him. Geralt once again shares a bit of his food, and even gets to pet the bird's head. He admits he's grown a fondness for the little lark. That afternoon, just before the sun has set, Geralt is armored up and ready for a fight. Roach is tacked up, he has his potions, his swords, his lark, his oils, hi- Wait, his lark? The lark keeps insisting on following him, until he finally shoos it away with a firm "Don't come. It's dangerous." and the bird seems to understand. Geralt is unnerved at the implications, but he has a contract to attend to first.

Geralt wakes up the next morning, bloody and beaten, no longer high on potions. It was very nearly a pyrrhic victory, it seems. Geralt brushes himself off and looks at his surroundings and sees that the monster and him tore the forest up a bit during their tussle in the night. He's walking back to his camp when he spots it, a fallen tree, and next to it, his lark. Geralt races over, and sees that the tree is pinning the lark to the ground by one of it's wings. The lark opens it's eyes and chirps frantically at him, kicking it's little legs and batting it's free wing erratically. Geralt manages to get the lark unstuck and mends it at camp. He plans to see to the lark's healing, and then release it back into the wild. This is complicated by the lark turning into a man in the middle of his camp later that night.

Prompt 67

Geralt used to not pay attention to Jaskier's lovers. But then he fell in love with the bard, and began staring at them the entire time Jaskier chatted them up. He'd sit there and idle away the time trying to guess which features lead to Jaskier getting entranced by them. He flirted with a barmaid a couple years back purely for her rather impressive breasts if Geralt had to guess (and he was). And a handsome stable worker another time for what must be for his pretty eyes. This peasant woman had incredibly long luscious hair. This man had nice legs. This woman had a beautiful voice. So on and so forth guessing which quirks caught his little bard's attention. But then Geralt started noticing a pattern these last few months. Jaskier's suddenly only taking male partners. Burly male partners. Taller than him. With long hair. Long light hair. These could all be explained away as coincidences, Geralt reasons with himself one night when he can't fall asleep due to his own gay panic. But then the very next morning, a man walks in scowling and acknowledges Jaskier at best with a grunt, and Jaskier lights up. Jaskier strikes up a conversation with him, and shortly after the two leave together. It's no surprise to Geralt when a half hour later, Jaskier returns to Geralt, tucking his shirt back into his pants, face flushed and limbs lax. Geralt can't deny it any longer. Jaskier is purposefully seeking lovers who remind him of Geralt.

Prompt 72

Geralt can't look at Jaskier any more. His heart starts beating too fast for a witcher, he loses his breath, his skin heats up, and he gets a weird queasy feeling in his stomach, as if he's drank too much of a potion. Fuck. Is Jaskier cursed???

Prompt 75

After being yelled at on the mountain, Jaskier stumbles and tumbles his way down the perilous path down, all the while being half-blinded by his own tears. He makes it to town and decides to wait. Geralt will realize it was all a mistake and come to find him and apologize. It'll take a few days, but Jaskier can wait. He'll play for some coin, and buy himself something nice to distract himself from the heartbreak. It's been four days. Jaskier has a room at an inn, two beds, in case Geralt doesn't want to sleep in the same bed with him like they used to. Jaskier plays every night. Everyone keeps requesting his songs about Geralt, but he redirects them easily enough. The only problem is he ran out of non-Geralt songs after the second day. Even ones that don't mention him, Jaskier can't bring himself to play, because he knows that he wrote them about Geralt. It's been a week. Jaskier has his room at the same inn. He still plays for coin, but he's been forced to play his songs about Geralt, as nobody wants to hear the same songs for a week straight, so he had to diversify. Jaskier is worried Geralt might've gotten hurt. Hopefully with his witcher healing, he'll be here in no time. It's been two weeks. Jaskier has his room at the inn. He's decided to take a break from playing for a bit, lest he get boring for the crowds. He's begun really exploring the town, and he's even met one of his frequent listeners out in town, got his name - Pietr - And was introduced to his wife as "The song guy". It was nice hearing compliments about his work from them both, even if it did remind him of the nights Geralt would talk in-depth about Jaskier's songcycles with him. He misses those nights. He hopes Geralt heals up from whatever injury he must've gotten and gets here soon so they can continue having those. It's been two months. Jaskier has changed to a one-bed room. Geralt is taking forever, he can deal with sharing a bed with Jaskier when he gets here. Jaskier plays every few nights, he has regular listeners now. He's tried writing new songs, but every time he puts quill to parchment, he starts crying. Really wish he'd stop doing that. It's been four months. Jaskier has changed his room again, now in a room with a single small bed, just for one person. It'd be physically impossible to even attempt sharing it with Geralt, unless they laid on top of each other, and even then, Geralt's feet would poke out. Jaskier can only assume Geralt went after Yennefer before him. As always. Jaskier isn't sure why it came as a surprise when he first figured it out. Or why it still hurt enough to make him bawl into a glass of alcohol. He should've known from the beginning. At least he'll be next, he thinks moments before passing out drunk. It's been six months. Jaskier is beginning to worry Geralt may have died. Surely he would've come by now. Jaskier's head still whips around to look at the door every time it opens. He still peeks into every stable and prays he'll see Roach. He still asks the blacksmith if he's done any work with swords recently. One especially mortifying moment was the time he asked a brothel if they had seen Geralt's description, only for the women to all tut sadly and tell him that if he had to look at brothels to try and find his missing husband, he must've not been good enough for Jaskier to begin with. Jaskier leaves without even clearing up the misconception, because it was still a no. Geralt was still not here.

It's been eight months. Jaskier has the same room, but has begun to dwindle in popularity. At least in the "giving money to" department. He thought he could at least expect Pietr, but he ran into him in the market the other day and Pietr had no idea who he was. Jaskier must really be that forgettable, despite all his attempts his whole life to not be. Jaskier must've just overexaggerated what he meant to someone again. Jaskier has scaled the mountain again, all by himself. Either he finds signs of Geralt, dead or alive, or he dies in some rockslide accident and nobody misses him. He finds no signs of Geralt, however. Not a thing. Geralt left the mountain, that was for sure. Jaskier sat on the very same rock, and cried thinking of the very same coast, but this time he was alone. It's been ten months. Jaskier spends his days and nights either drinking or crying. He's only written one new song, one about someone's love dying before they ever get to tell them how they feel. He's never sung it, though. For a performance or in private. He's stopped playing altogether. He has no idea what to do with the rest of his life. As sad and pitiful and pathetic as he thinks himself when he says it, his life was Geralt. Following him for twenty years, writing songs about him, spreading word about him, making a name for himself as "The White Wolf's bard." It's been a year. Jaskier bought himself a small hovel in the village. He'd been there far too long to keep using the inn. He has a small flower garden. He spends most of his time tending it. Jaskier heard a villager say their penpal's village was recently saved by the White Wolf himself, and Jaskier freezes, standing still and gaping at the two women chatting. They begin to realize Jaskier's eavesdropping and move to talk inside their home. Oh. So Geralt lived. He just truly didn't come for Jaskier. Jaskier throws the last song he wrote for Geralt into the fire. Geralt isn't dead. But Geralt probably wishes Jaskier was. Jaskier stays inside his home long enough for his garden to get overrun with weeds and pests. He only leaves his home when one day, there's incessant knocking on his door. He opens it to find Yennefer. Great. She grabs his arm, summons a portal behind her, and shOVES him in. She sits him down in a chair in a kitchen, comments on how terrible he looks, and then leaves upstairs. After a few moments, Yennefer drags Geralt in, even though Geralt is clearly trying his best not to enter the room. Lovely. As if Jaskier didn't already feel like the bane of Geralt's existence. Yennefer finally sits Geralt down, and explains to them that it was just as she thought. They were bespelled. Geralt has been having lapses of memory and odd sudden urges for about a year now. He'd forget people he spoke to, towns he'd go in, and suddenly go off his routes or paths with intense need to go on a detour he could never talk himself out of. Geralt can hardly listen to her, he's just stuck staring at Jaskier with awe. Jaskier's alive. Jaskier's alive. Ever since the mountain, Geralt has been visiting the towns around the mountain, praying to find his bard again, only for everybody in the towns to not have seen anyone meeting his description. It was only two months in that he combed the entire mountain, both hoping and dreading to find Jaskier's body. He found nothing. No signs of his bard. And with nobody ever seeing him enter the village, it's almost as if he just... disappeared. Yennefer explains that anytime Geralt asked someone of Jaskier, the person would forget everything they knew about him. Any time Geralt almost made contact with Jaskier, his mind would suddenly tug him into a new direction. it seems to have been born into existence the day they had their fight on the mountain. Specifically when Geralt asked for life to take Jaskier off his hands.

Thor’s Favourite Celebration

Another Thorbruce oneshot that i originally wrote for pride but forgot to post here!

Summary: Thor and Bruce go to pride. They need to hold hands or they'll get lost!!

Word count: 2485

Warnings: I think a little bit of Bruce’s anxiety in crowds, getting lost. Also pizza costs an outrageous amount (if that scares you??)

read it on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31781182 

{gif not mine}

Some Schlackity dating headcanons. If you could say so:

•Quackity and JSchlatt have actually different ways of dating and a different picture or relationship as a whole. The duck hybrid is way faster with everything, with the first date, first kiss, everything. He doesn't need even more than a couple of days to ask Schlatt out on a first date.

•Schlatt is....the opposite. He actually needs way more time. It's possible to call him more "traditional", he wanted to have more time to get to know Quackity before they would start anything serious. Which is why he was taken by surprise when Q wanted to take everything to the "second base" after the first date and just walked away.

•Quackity learned that lesson and started to be at least a little bit more subtle. Showing his love with gentle touches, compliments, carefully taking the others hand when they go for a walk, even if it is business related. Seems like Schlatt did appreciate it or at least didn't mind, slightly squeezing the others hand and caressing the back of his partners hand with his thumb.

•Schlatt would show the affection with something more materialistic. Like expensive gifts, some products that would help to take care of Quackitys wings, in some cases flowers. Even though the first time he was more hesitant with that sort of gift but after seeing how his partners face lit up, he considered to do it more often.

•The first kiss did take a while actually, mostly because Q didn't want to force his partner into anything that would be "too fast". This is why Schlatt was the one to take action. It was still something that built up slowly. They had a nice dinner, a pleasant walk till the night came and the night sky couldn't look more perfect. After the ram hybrid looked at his future husbands face, saw that soft smile, eyes filled with enthusiasm and fire that could make anyone get rid of any doubt that they could have about him, Schlatt knew that this is the right time. He still cupped the others face, giving the chance to step back or say "no", when nothing came, he could finally admit how hard he has fallen for someone who should just help him win the election. No words were said when he covered Quackitys lips with his own, getting a gentle answer, filled with passion.

kinnporsche wrapped which scenes did you replay the most?

my entire list is just vegaspete scenes

Chapter 2 of Spring Blossoms, where Tony and Bucky grow plants and grow closer, filling square S2: Strawberries for my @tonystarkbingo (card 3022).

Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Getting together, Tony Stark has a heart, Bucky Barnes has issues, gardening, Howard Stark's A+ parenting Summary: There wasn't much Tony had that was truly his, but this was one of them. Until he noticed Bucky struggling and decided to help. Word Count:1606

Shy Smiles and Soft Snuggles.

a vds one shot. you can find more on my ao3.

( @ apolloswords )

feel free to comment/message me any suggestions for one shot ideas!

Lucas takes Jens and Jana on a weekend trip to Utrecht. When Jana teases them about the status of their relationship, it has Lucas thinking about making it official.

Continuation of “ Buried Boxes and Bashful Booths.”

“The train!” Lucas yelled as he tried to keep up with Jens and Jana.

The three of them raced down the platform, lunging their overnight bags on their side or their backs as they tried to make it to the train to Utrecht. The train they had taken to Antwerp’s main station was delayed by five minutes, which meant they had to get to the train to Utrecht in the next ten seconds if they didn’t want to miss it.

Luckily, Jens practically flung himself through the doors, holding it open just in time for Jana and Lucas to hope on. They took a second to catch their breath, panting heavily as they tried to find their seats.

When they did, they threw their bangs down and sat. Lucas and Jens placed their bags beside Jana, so they could have a bit more room on their shared seats.

“I thought we were going to miss it.” Jana said, still catching her breath. “So much for thinking we had that five minutes to spare.”

“I hate running.” Lucas pouted, before letting his body weight fall on top of Jens.

Jens groaned, but shifted a little to make sure he and Lucas were more comfortable. Jana laughed at the frown Lucas had on his face for having to be shifted into a new position, and she shook her head.

“Are you excited for us to meet your friends?” She asked. “You get to introduce them to a sister and a boyfriend.” She teased.

“We aren’t boyfriends!” He and Jens said in unison, which only fuelled her amusement.

“Yeah right.” She crossed her arms and looked at them with a smug smile. “You guys are definitely more than friends.”

“Well what if we’re just doing it to fool you?” Jens teased back. “You’re the one who keeps teasing us, maybe we’re just putting on an act for you.”

Jana snorted. “Please, I would hope the both of you hanging around each other almost 24/7 isn’t because of me.”

“Should I ask you for permission first?” Jens teased again, matching her smug smile. “Have your blessing so I can date your brother?”

“I would hope my brother had better choices in boys.” She shot back, and Lucas let out a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Jens knows you’ll kick his ass if anything happens to me.” He assured.

“So your friends,” Jens asked, turning away from Jana and raising a brow. “Have you told them anything?”

“They know as much as Jana knows.” He said with a smirk.

“I hardly know anything!” She cried, throwing her hands up in the air. “What did you tell them? That Jens was just some random kid we picked up and decided to bring along for the weekend?”

“Basically.” Lucas shrugged, now turning to wink at Jens. “I said you were a charity case.”

“Oh fuck off.” He snorted, lightly pushing him off. Lucas only laughed and fell on top of him again, only reviewing a chuckle and a roll of eyes as retaliation.

“Alright, I want peace and quiet for the next hour.” Jana instructed. “Faoucci’s math test fried by brain during my last class. I need time to heal.” She eyes the both of them seriously, narrowing her eyes and pointing at the two of them. “If you both leave me here and abandon me at the stop, you’ll both be sorry.”

-

“Oh fuck no.” Lucas said, as he saw two familiar faces standing next to a small black car in the train station’s parking lot.

Both of the boys standing there waved at him, giving him mischievous smiles before they raced over. As much as Lucas wanted to pretend he wasn’t happy to see them, he felt a sudden burst of adrenaline shot through him and ran up a bit. When the three of them had gotten close enough, they enveloped into a hug.

“Luc!” Kes laughed, hugging the right side of him tightly. “We thought we’d never see you again!”

“It’s not the same without you!” Jayden dramatically cried into Lucas’ left shoulder, only to get snorts of laughter from the other two boys.

When they pulled apart, Lucas turned around and saw that Jens and Jana had caught up to him. Jana had a wide smile on her face, the breeze blowing her hair in the wind as Jens tried to look composed with his straight posture and confident grin.

“Hey guys, these are the people I brought.” He said, standing off to the side a bit so he could properly introduce them. “This is my sister Jana and my friend Jens. Jens, Jana, these are my friends Kes and Jayden.”

“The charity case huh?” Kes said with a smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured he was your-“

Lucas shot him a glare which made Kes quickly shut up. Kes gave him a smug look, much to his dismay.

“Damn, does everyone in Belgium look like you guys? I might have to consider moving.” Jayden said, smiling at the both of them.

Lucas felt his face burn up as Jens and Jana chuckled, obviously flattered by Jayden’s compliment.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jana said with a smile, as Jens managed to give both Kes and Jayden some handshakes.

“Luc, we got a car so we don’t have to train back to Jayden’s place.” Kes explained. “It’s going to be a tight fit but I’m sure they’ll find a way to fit all of you in the flat.”

“Come on!” Jayden called out, pulling some car keys out of his jacket pocket. “I’m driving.”

“Oh we are so fucked.” Lucas muttered under his breath, causing everyone around them to laugh.

They all started to heard towards the car, with Lucas following slowly behind. Jayden, who seemed very interested in Jana, was walking beside her, as Kes basically lead the entire group. Lucas felt his face flush when he noticed Jens walking beside him. Feeling the familiar nudge to his shoulder, he looked up and was greeted by a satisfied smirk from the tall raven haired boy.

“So, do you think I’m cute enough to move countries for?” He asked, a smirk on his lips.

Lucas scoffed. “You’re cute for a Belgian.”

He continued walking, trying to hide a smile from his face as Jens took a pause, standing there and thinking about what Lucas had just said.

“Hey!” He called out, Lucas whipping his head around to teasingly grin the boy behind him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

-

“We are going to get wasted!” Isa cried out, throwing her arms around Jana who was becoming a giggling mess.

“Aren’t you already?” Liv shouted over the music, groaning as she shook her head, following them across the room.

Lucas shook his head, laughing and knowing the two girls were probably going to find some more alcohol. He could already envision the horrible hangover that awaited them the next morning.

“Hey,” Jens nudged his arm gently. “I’m going to go smoke some weed. Come out with me?”

“Was that pun intended?” Lucas laughed.

“What pun?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head, while still chuckling. “Sure, let’s go.”

They headed outside of the house and towards the front lawn, leaning on the gates. Everybody else seemed to be inside. Lucas had already lost sight of Kes and Jayden about five minutes after entering the house. And if they weren’t outside smoking weed, it was a definite loss cause to even try to find them amidst the crowd of people.

Jens took out a lighter from his back pocket and a pre-rolled joint from the back of his ear. He lit the end of it, and Lucas couldn’t help but almost gawk at how attractive he found it. As Jens took a hit and let the smoke curl out of his lips, Lucas could feel his heart race and body go to complete jelly.

He passed the joint to him and he took it gratefully. The weed seemed to calm his nerves down a bit, and he was pleasantly surprised with its familiarity.

“Where’d you get Nederlands weed?” He asked Jens, who took the joint from him again.

“Your friend Kes gave it to me before we got here. He gave me a few actually.” He pulled out two more pre-rolled joints from his front pocket. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m going to smoke them all in one night. I don’t have that tolerance to this type of weed.”

“I hope he’s not doing that either.” Lucas scoffed.

He watched as Jens tilted his head back in a light laugh, more smoke coming out of his lips and making Lucas suck in a breath.

“Your friends are really nice.” He noted. “I can see why it was hard to leave them.”

“They’re chaotic as hell.” He snorted, but gave a small smile. “But I can’t believe how much I actually missed their chaos.”

“It must be nice to be back home at least. How does it feel?”

“Weird. I know in a way it’s still home but it’s weird to be a visitor.” He managed to look up and give Jens a small smile. “But I’m glad you came along?”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “I’m glad you brought me along too.”

Lucas knew his face probably had a light blush to it, and he looked down at his shoes to hide it. He felt Jens lean a little more to the gate, reaching out and letting the sides of their hands touch. Lucas felt something fuzzy inhabit his body, and it only made the blush on his face feel warmer.

“Have you ever thought about what Jana said earlier?” Jens asked, a little hesitation in his voice.

Looking at him, Lucas gave him a confused loo. “What did she say?”

“Well she mentioned us being boyfriends.”

“Oh.” He didn’t really know what to say. “I mean, I have.”

“Really?” He seemed rather surprised.

“Yeah, have you?”

“Yeah, I have.”

He widened his grin. “Really? Since when?”

“Probably since I met you. I looked at you and thought, wow, this guy has to be the one who puts up with me.”

“You’re kidding?” Lucas asked in disbelief.

“I’m not.” Jens leaned in forward and whispered to him. “I really thought that.”

Lucas smiled, blushing again and felt himself staring into Jens’ eyes. His eyes then lowered onto his lips, their soft pink colour looking down bright against the dim sky. He wanted to lean forward, to stand on the tips of his toes and wrap his arms around the other boy, finally doing what he had thought the second he had looked at him.

Just before he was going to do it, they were quickly interrupted by Liv shouting at them from the front steps of the house.

“Luc, Jens!” She called out. “We need you to carry Jana home, her and Isa just threw up all over the place.”

“Classic.” Jens laughed as he nodded at her. “Okay, we’ll be right there.”

Lucas bit his hip, a little disappointed that their moment had been ruined. Trying not to let it show so much on his face, he tried to crack a small chuckle.

“Looks like the party is ending earlier than we thought.” He managed to say, as they walked towards the house.

Jens laughed again. “Sorry us Belgians have a weaker tolerance than you Dutch.”

He shook his head. “Didn’t you hear Liv? It was both Jana and Isa throwing up.”

“Isa doesn’t stand a chance against that Dutch tolerance does she?”

“Nope. It wouldn’t be a party without her losing to it each time.”

They arrived into the house and were greeted quickly by the rest of this friends. Poor Isa was being held up by Kes and Jayden, her eyelids dropping as she groaned from her nausea. They found Jana being held up by Isa, her face pale and her voice slurred.

“Liv, Liv, Liv, look!” She exclaimed, pointing at both Jens and Lucas. “My rescuers have come to save me!” She pouted her lips. “My favourite pair of boyfriends.”

“In a different country but the party routine still commences, doesn’t it Jana?” Jens teased, ignoring the last part and walking towards her side. He slung one arm around him, letting her shift some of her weight onto him. He nodded at Lucas. “Come get her other side.”

“Oh yeah.” Lucas said, figuring to ignore what Jana had said as well. He walked over, Liv placing her gently onto him.

“Looks like Isa finally found her drinking buddy.” Jayden laughed, before opening the front door with his foot.

“Too bad she lives on the other side of the border.” Jens snorted. “She won’t be able to party like this every weekend.”

“Oh thank god.” Liv said from behind them, rolling her eyes as they all headed out the door.

-

“Even in a different country, I still manage to sleep beside you.” Jens chuckled as he slid into the empty space on the bed beside him.

Sleeping arrangements turned out to be fairly easy. The second they had walked into the flat, Isa and Jana both collapsed onto the two couches. Liv seemed decently pleased, knowing she wouldn’t have to share her bed. They threw some blankets on them, chilled out in the kitchen for awhile before eventually heading off to bed. Since Ralph was gone for the weekend, Lucas and Jens were able to crash in his room while Kes was forced to make do with Jayden.

“Some things never change.” Lucas said with a smile, instantly feeling some of Jens’ radiating heat off of him. Instinctively, he moved in a little closer, minimizing the space that laid between them.

“Hey.” Jens whispered in the dark, smiling brightly that his teeth shown like the stars.

Lucas giggled. “Hi.”

“You know, it’s kind of nice that I’ve gotten used to sleeping beside you.” He whispered. “It doesn’t make this place feel any different than home.”

“Does it feel different?” He asked, frowning a little. “Do you feel weird being here?”

“No!” He shook his head quickly, and chuckled. “No, of course not. I actually love it here. It’s a nice place to make a life out of.”

“Oh.” He paused. “I kind of want to move back here after high school.”

“For university?”

“Probably.”

“I’d come with you.”

He widened his eyes in surprise. “You would follow me here?”

“Sure, why not?” Jens shrugged. “It’s not that far away from Antwerp. Close enough for me to visit my parents and far enough that they have no control over me.” Now Jens paused. “To be honest, I think I would prefer the distance actually.”

“Are things at home not good?” Lucas asked softly and nervously, hoping it wouldn’t upset Jens.

But Jens only chuckled again. “No, it’s not that. Things could be better though. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I’m also a child of divorce. Except instead of living with my dad, who by the way, moved all the way to Switzerland of all places, I live with my mom. And the second marriage brought some baggage, also known as my evil step sisters.”

“I thought it was going to be strange from going from an only child to having a sister.” He admitted. “But it’s actually pretty cool. It’s like having a permanent friend with you all the time.”

“Yeah, you got the lucky deck handed to you. I don’t think my sisters even tried being remotely decent towards me.” His voice lowered a bit. “To be honest, I almost got a little jealous over Jana. When she told me she was getting a brother and he was really nice, I was a little upset that I didn’t get a nice sibling.”

“Oh.” He paused again. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Jens smiled. “I was lucky she got you. You ended up being one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and now I have no idea what I would do without you.”

“Oh.” His voice went up in a delight as he smiled back at him. “I don’t know what I would do without you either.”

Jens looked at him softly, bringing a hand up to the side of his face and tucking some loose curls behind his ear. Lucas held his breath, feeling his heart race and the familiar fuzzy feeling take over. It was the same feeling he had gotten earlier, right before they were interrupted, just before Lucas was going to kiss him.

“Luc,” He said quietly, not taking his eyes off of him. “You do know I like you more than a friend, right?”

“I know. It, just.” He trailed off.

“Just what?”

“Well I haven’t asked you to be my boyfriend yet because I haven’t kissed you yet.” Lucas blurted out. “And I know I shouldn’t be scared to because I know you feel the same way I do and even if you didn’t I know you wouldn’t make me feel bad about it but I just don’t know when’s the perfect time to do it and then I panic and over think and then I miss my chance and then I-“

Lucas was quickly cut off by a kiss.

It took him a second for his brain to register it, but when he did, he instantly melted against it. Jens was holding his face firmly while still managing to make the kiss soft and gently. Lucas hummed into the kiss, almost having to hold his breath as he felt his chest tighten with so much euphoria. The space between them didn’t exist, and Lucas trailed his hand to Jens’ jawline, tilting it so he could have more of him. Lucas felt him smile against his lips, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. He could almost feel Jens’ own heart beating against his chest and he wondered if he could feel his.

He wondered why he hadn’t kissed him sooner. He wished he had. If he had known it was going to be like this then maybe Lucas wouldn't have felt so shy about his little crush.

But he also didn’t mind the waiting. He didn’t mind that he got to spend time with Jens before this, to really know him and understand him. To have had their shy glances exchanged for shy smiles to eventual shy affections.

Lucas didn’t mind the waiting. Because right now, the moment was perfect. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Eventually they pulled apart, staring at each other in awe. Lucas couldn’t stop holding his face as he marvelled at the boy in front of him. The boy he had fallen so hard for, despite the short amount of time he had known him for. But with the way he was being marvelled at and also being held in the hands of Jens, he knew there was no more questioning between them.

“Now can you ask me to be your boyfriend?” Jens asked, his voice panting a little as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Giggling, Lucas leaned his forehead forward, pressing it against his.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” He asked in a whispered.

And he smiled. Because he already knew the answer.

-

Lucas was barely awake when he heard the bedroom door swing open. Groaning, he opened his eyes halfway and saw Jana standing there. She looked way better than she had last night, and based on the brightness on her face, she was definitely way more alive.

“Wake up.” She instructed them, flinging her hands everywhere. “We’re gonna roam around Utrecht today and we have to hit all the spots.

“Few more minutes.” Jens groaned, his eyes still shut and his head still buried in the pillows.

Jana narrowed her eyes at them. It didn’t take her long to realize the way they had fallen asleep. Jens hand one arm tucked under Lucas, his hand wrapped around to his back. Lucas was practically shoved into his chest, as one leg was thrown over him, peeking from the tangled blanket that halfway laid on top of them. Jens had his other hand thrown over Lucas’ waist, and it was unlike any sleeping position Jana had ever seen them in.

“Oh my god, it finally happened.” She squealed.

“What?” Lucas mumbled, trying to sit up but Jens only pulled him back down.

“Ignore her.” He mumbled.

He could hear Jana excitedly running towards the kitchen, which he figured everyone else was at based on where the sound of a clatter of dishes, smell of breakfast food and chatting voices came from. He wanted to sit up, to try to figure out what was happening but Jens’ grip was tight and firm. There was no escape to it.

“You guys!” He heard Jana exclaim. “I told you! I told you all! Lucas and Jens, they’re boyfriends!”

“I called it first!” He heard Kes yell, envisioning him scrambling through the kitchen to go declare it to them personally.

Knowing his friends were going to instantly swarm into the room and interrogate them, Lucas ducked underneath the blanket as Jens’ chest vibrated with a laugh. He felt Jens kiss the top of the curls that peaked out from out of the blanket as he pushed himself closer to his chest.

At least only one of their flushed faces would be given away.

Stray kids reaction their favourite place to kiss you

Chan

I don't think Chan has a favourite place, he just randomly kisses you wherever he feels like at that moment. Chan I think might kiss you in certain places depending on the situation; always kisses your cheek hello but kisses your lips goodbye, kisses your nose when he wants to be cute and kisses your neck to assert dominance.

Minho

100% Minho loves to kiss your neck, he's a kinky mf even when he's not trying to be. Whether he is asserting dominance, trying to turn from a makeout to sex or just because he wants to. Would so be that person who hugs you from behind, kisses your neck and says "good morning kitten" or "hows my good girl" every single time he does so your eyes close for a moment in bliss and he just loves that.

Changbin

You can call Changbin a classic or even predictable man all you want, his favourite place to kiss you is still the lips. He just loves the way your lips feel against his and he never wants to let that feeling go. You just feel so soft and smooth Changbin loves the most to wake you up with kisses. You get so cute and just whine for more kisses and who is Changbin to say no.

Hyunjin

Again, loves to kiss your lips. To Hyunjin, why would he kiss anywhere else when he can kiss your lips? making out with you is just one of his favourite things so expect that to happen a lot. Is even happy to kiss you in public he doesn't mind who is around to see it, infact it's better so that people know you're taken.

Jisung

Jisung is a cheeks man. Now are we talking ass cheeks or face cheeks honestly were talking both. Jisung just has and always will be a cheeks man. Always kisses you goodbye on the cheek or kisses you hello. Also isn't a big fan of pda so always opts for kissing on the cheek when in front of friends. You always blush when he kisses your cheek and it makes him just want to do it more.

Felix

Another member who loves to kiss your cheek Felix just can't help himself. Your cheeks always look so fluffy to him so he's never not kissing your cheek at this point. Likes to kiss it goodbye or goodmorning or just whenever he feels like it. Is comfortable with some pda so kisses on the cheek in public are ok for him and it's also what he loves to do when taking a photo.

Seungmin

You just have the softest forehead that Seungmin can't ever help himself when it comes to kissing it. Usually kisses it whenever your feeling down, it helps you to feel better. Also has the fantasy of taking lots of photos in this pose so asks his friends to always take them. Finally he loves to wrap his arms around you from behind and kiss it a few times, baby boy just wants to show his love.

Jeongin

Jeongin is a sweet and cute man. He also thinks it's super cute to kiss someone on the nose so he always does it to you. Jeongin just loves to cup your face in his hands, smile at you and then kiss your nose. It makes him so very happy whenever he does so. Also loves to randomly do it, sometimes it shocks you and at other times it makes you blush.

Punk Harry Series Part 7

Part 6

Masterlist

First Kiss: You were in a panic. It was 4 hours to show time and everything was running behind schedule. But that wasn't the end of it. No, Sydney decided she wanted to color her hair. Going from jet black to lilac. Colors on the opposite of the wheel. Which also meant that you had to change up her make up routine to account for this sudden change in her hair color. She has a yellow undertone but with the black hair you decided to cover it with a pink undertone so it would compliment the color. But then she decided to change it and now you have to change everything as well. Of course it didn't stop there. She had also gone to see a speaker at some hole in the wall poet society place and guess she felt as if he changed her life. She said that the aura around her felt natural and green that she now wants to unite the nations with some green bullshit. Basically she now wants makeup that is made with all natural resources and isn't tested on animals. Which is like 3% of all makeup companies in the world. "Hey, how's life-whoa, who died in here?" You heard Harry's voice say behind you. You whipped around, probably looking like an idiot. You could feel yourself sweating, your hair was everywhere and you arms were whipping around like flags in strong wind. "Everything in my life is falling apart!" You exclaimed and he smiled coming over and gripping your shoulders to stabilize you. "What could possibly be going on that could ruin your whole life?" He asked kind of laughing at you. You started to explain the situation of course you were rambling so you were sure he heard less than 12% of what you said. You were half way through explaining how many companies made makeup that went by her requirements when you felt him press his lips to yours. It was kind of perfect. It wasn't too passionate just, skin on skin. No movement or tongue just lips pressed to lips. It was also your first real kiss as a couple. Nothing like that spastic kiss he gave you when you were on guard duty. This was good, this was wanted by both of you. 

Word Count: 384

Of Hummingbirds and Albatross

Crowley is good at his job, he’s rather pleased to admit. He’s had a bit of fun here and there--gluing coins to sidewalks and such--but in the end he really is good at it. He had come to terms with it a long time ago, despite his pesky moral compass, and had learned to be satisfied with the role God had saddled him with. It’s not inherently glamorous (although Crowley does his best to make it so, and does a bang up job if he does say so himself; no animals on his head for starters) and working for hell, being a demon at all, is actually quite painful when you really come down to it, but that’s the nature of the job. Crowley is just another cog in the machine. A rather shiny, stylish, and well functioning cog, maybe, but a cog nonetheless. So doing his job doesn’t feel like a sin perse… more of a… lifestyle. A lifestyle that happens to bring about the suffering of others. He’s been at this for a good, long while, after all, and he wants to make the most of himself. He likes the satisfaction of a job well done. He likes the praise. And he’s good at it , bless it all to heaven, he is. He’s creative and sexy,--a walking temptation , sex on a stick, he likes to think--at this point it wouldn’t surprise him if he could damn a soul straight to hell with nothing more than a snap of his fingers. But, even so. A cog. In the great ineffable plan . So it doesn’t fuss him too much when he goes a bit soft. A lot soft. More of a puddle really. He can afford to be a bit puddley.

That doesn’t stop it from hurting.

Which brings him to his current predicament. At present, Crowley is sprawled haphazardly across the couch in the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop, and is absolutely aching with it. Sitting across from him, Aziraphale makes an incredibly pretty picture. Not just pretty, handsome . Crowley is a firm believer in genderless beauty, but he can’t deny the quiet masculinity that rests over Aziraphale. Oh, he’s flamboyant, to be sure, but when you catch him alone like this, calm and in his element, the dithering and the nervous energy tends to fall away a bit. He is sat comfortably in his chair, animatedly explaining the brilliance of Greek mythology (now that he isn’t really an angel anymore and feels he is able). A bit sedentary. A bit soft. A lot soft. It’s lovely. He’s so sure of himself like this. Crowley wants to lay him out like a feast. He wants to lay his angel out on the bed, or the floor, or even the couch, he could miracle up more room, and worship him like he’s the almighty Herself. He keeps this to himself, not only because Aziraphale still can’t stomach blasphemy, but because after all this time he doesn’t know how he would say such a thing.

How do you tell a person you want to press your foreheads together and feather kisses along their hairline? How do you tell a person you want to watch them arch their neck as you take them into your mouth, or feel their fingers in your hair as you suck kisses into their soft belly? He doesn’t feel like that’s a thing you tell your best friend after 6,000 years. He’d like to shrug it off. Can’t. He’s trying too hard to keep from snapping his fingers and miracling away all of Aziraphale’s clothes in one fell swoop so that he’s naked and glowing in the soft light. The light is really very soft. Soft enough that it doesn’t hurt to take off his glasses. Soft enough that Aziraphale doesn’t have to do more than glance pleadingly into the dark lenses before they’re set on the coffee table. Crowley would do anything for those eyes. He needs to stop melting.

He does his best to sit up a little straighter and tune back into Aziraphale’s happy ranting. “...And really, dear boy, you can’t deny the sheer inspiration behind Athens. I have to admit, in the least sacrilegious way possible, that if Athena did exist I would,” he takes that moment to look at Crowley a little more closely then, to see if he understands the weight of Athena’s influence on modern society and Aziraphale’s hopeless wish to meet her, or possibly become her, or possibly worship her, though he’ll never tell, when he sees Crowley’s dazed expression. “Dear, are you quite alright?”

Crowley makes an effort to focus a little harder. “Ngh? Oh, yeah, of course, angel. Just thinking…” He tries to come up with something to be thinking.

Aziraphale sighs in experienced exasperation and rolls his eyes towards the ceiling before responding, “What is it, now?”

Crowley gives a little wiggly flop and continues, “Well it's just albatrosses, that’s all. Albatrosses? Albatrie? Is albatross already plural? Like moose?” He gives a loose shrug. They’re both a bit drunk. “Well anyway, I was just thinking, albatrosses can fly their entire lives, right? And that’s what they’re known for. And, kids these days, angel, they’re calling themselves albatrosses to say, “Hey, free as a bird, can’t pin me down!” ‘n it’s stupid is the thing.”

Aziraphale raises an eyebrow. Crowley wants to lick it. “Stupid?”

Crowley nods vehemently. “‘S stupid because albatrosses mate for life. Just because your moving doesn’t mean you can’t be moving around with another albatross. Makes no sense. Stupid.”

An indulgent look takes over Aziraphale’s face and he nods, trying hard to conceal the quirk of his lips, because he’s nice like that. Crowley would have smirked outright, even if it was to conceal his raging adoration with something less like putty. “Well surely they have to stop to mate? Even if it’s just for a short while?”

Crowley lets loose another flop that could be interpreted as general assent. “Suppose. Couldn’t say. Don’t know that much about albatrosses.” He thinks about laying down properly on the couch but finds he can’t bear the thought of laying his head somewhere that isn’t Aziraphale’s lap right now. And that’s just the thing. He wants to worship Aziraphale. Quietly. Reverently. Wants to hear his breath catch and feel his fingers tighten in his hair. He’s kept it long in vain hope of this, with the exception of cutting it short for Armageddon. For war. For losing him. He’s so desperately grateful that he didn’t lose him. But even more he wants Aziraphale to do those things to him. He wants to be held down by sure hands while Aziraphale teases him. He wants to feel broad sweeps of those competent hands down his sides, back, stomach, thighs. He wants Aziraphale’s hand on the back of his neck. Gently. Just resting there, reminding him to breathe. He wants to be able to melt properly, knowing someone will be there to hold him together. For once in his endless existence he just wants to be able to hand someone a needle and thread and say, “I’m going to fall to pieces now, and I’d appreciate it if you stitched me back up once I’m through.”

He is so very, very drunk.

Drunk enough that he thinks the pain of it must show on his face a bit before he quickly covers it up again. He tries for a suggestive eyebrow raise, “But what was it you said you wanted to do to Athena, now?”

He’s been caught. He knows he has when Aziraphale doesn’t scoff at him, or make any amusing sputtering noises of protest. He knows because Aziraphale is looking at him far too tentatively for comfort. His head cocked slightly, his eyes sad. He feels like he’s sure the bird they found on the pavement of Saint James’ Park must have felt after falling out of a tree. Aziraphale had been so worried. “Do you think it’s hurt? Should we pick it up? Wait, no, no, I saw a documentary about this and the mother won’t even touch a chick with a human’s scent on it. Does this apply to angels? I’d imagine it applies to demons for certain if it already applies to humans. Does the distinction matter?” Crowley had been so distracted by Aziraphale’s fretful clinging to his arm that it took him an embarrassingly long time to snap his fingers and return the chick to its nest. After that it still took several minutes of reassuring to convince Aziraphale that, “Of course it was alright, angel, and if it hadn’t been it would have fixed it up for you, right as rain, see? Why are you asking me, anyway? You can answer these questions yourself by just focusing your ‘ethereal powers’ enough to check on it.” That had been a good day. They’d gone out to eat at a little restaurant he had been wanting to show Aziraphale for a while: French, with rich sauces and plants on all the windowsills. And it took Aziraphale a long while to remember to let go of his arm. They spent most of their walk like that.

Aziraphale ignores his question completely and gets up from the chair. For a wild moment Crowley thinks he’s going to come over, but instead he heads out of the room to the kitchen, “Cocoa, dear?”

Normally he’d say no, but he needs something to do with his hands that doesn’t involve alcohol. He’d sober up a bit but he doesn’t want Aziraphale to get suspicious at the full wine bottles. Then he’d probably think that was a sign that Crowley was ready to go back to his flat, and Crowley would rather cut off his arm than leave right now.

Sometimes he’d pretend to fall asleep on the couch so that he could stay a couple more hours in Aziraphale’s presence. Once, after performing one of the rare temptations that he actually minded, too much death, too many children, he had stayed like that for an entire week. Aziraphale had kissed his forehead, once, and the pillows smelled like him, and Aziraphale had kept up a rotation of warm tea, his favorite, he could smell it, for if he ever woke up.

Carrying the tray holding their cocoa carefully, Aziraphale walks gingerly to his side of the couch, he’s always extra careful not to spill when he’s tipsy, and, to Crowley’s amazement, sits down next to him. “Here you are,” he declares with a brilliant smile, still concerned for him, it doesn’t reach his eyes all the way, and hands Crowley his mug. It’s warm, and their fingers brush, and Crowley can’t help but readjust subtly so that their knees are pressed together. He stays that way, holding the cocoa, not drinking, and tries desperately not to tuck himself under the angel’s arm and press his face into his neck. It’s gotten worse lately. This. The loneliness. He’s had no distractions since Armageddon. No assignments from hell. Not even the pastime of looking for excuses to meet with Aziraphale, Romeo and Juliet style. He thinks the silence is charged. He can hardly tell.

He looks up, a tad frantically, when Aziraphale shifts forward to set his cocoa down, half drained, then reaches out and takes Crowley’s full cup and sets it down next to his. Then, like from a dream, pulls him forward into his chest before leaning back himself so they are both laid across the couch. Crowley’s heart is a hummingbird in his chest, neck, wrists as Aziraphale continues to maneuver them so that Crowley’s back is snug to the back of the couch and his side is tucked in the corner. Crowley thinks he’s dying. Discorporating. Burning alive. Then, in a smooth movement, Aziraphale plasters himself to Crowley’s front so that Crowley’s head is laying against his soft chest and on top of his arm, and leans firmly against him. Solid. Safe. Crowley is frozen, afraid that a single movement might send Aziraphale running. He takes a shallow, shuddering breath, the first since Aziraphale reached out to him, and manages to croak out, “What’s going on?” As soon as he says it he clings to the lapels of Aziraphale’s jacket, drowning in the flash of worry that he’ll stop, that he’ll think Crowley doesn’t like it and will stop. Aziraphale tentatively moves his hand up to his side, like he’s worried Crowley will reject the touch, stupid angel . He’ll take whatever Aziraphale will give him. This is already much more than Crowley’s ever been allowed to have before.

“Is this… alright?” Crowley can feel the question breathed against his hair and shudders. His control is slipping.

“Yes.” He’s still croaking, but Aziraphale doesn’t seem to mind as he rests his arm against his side properly now, not just his hand, and snakes it behind his back to pull him impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry.” The confession is so soft Crowley isn’t sure he heard it right for a second.

“Why?”

Aziraphale’s stopped fidgeting, for once, and he’s holding Crowley like he knows he’ll break apart without Aziraphale’s arms there to stop the rapid spread of fissures running the length of his being. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry because I see you like this, and all I do is watch. Because I see you every time you get like this, and I leave you alone with it. Because I didn’t do this sooner.” There’s a pause as Aziraphale takes a shaky breath and continues, somehow softer than he already was, “I’m sorry because I’ve been too much of a coward to do it before.”

Before he knows it Crowley is shaking his head. His hair, grown down to his shoulders again since the end of Armageddon, is definitely being messed up against the fabric of Aziraphale’s coat, but he can’t seem to care. Aziraphale cares in his place and brings the hand around his back up to smooth it out and stop the movement. Crowley feels the fingers in his hair and something breaks deep inside of him, finally cracking under the pressure of this great, horrible thing in his chest. He’s shaking, then. Crying. He doesn’t even really know why and he’s sobbing into Aziraphale’s shoulder, still shaking his head as much as he’s able with Aziraphale’s hand still in his hair. He sucks in a gasping breath and chokes out, “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m okay. Why are you sorry? I’m okay.”

Somewhere in his mess of words Aziraphale has bent over him as much as he can in their reclined positions. Has blocked out what little light there is to block and surrounded him so completely Crowley isn’t sure there has ever been anything else. He will never come back from this. He’s lying through his teeth, he will never be okay again after feeling this. Aziraphale brings his leg up to drape over Crowley’s hip and holds him tighter as he shakes.

“It’s okay, I’m okay, I love you, it’s--” Crowley goes horribly silent. Oh God. Oh God in heaven please. “I… that is…” to his embarrassment all of his words seem to be trapped in the locked room of his voice box. They stretch and scratch at his throat but they’re trapped and they’ll probably die there with the rest of his repressed “I love yous” . He tries to stay completely silent and still, but he’s still shaking with repressed sobs, and fear now, he’s shaking from both, and it’s horribly uncomfortable, and he’s letting out these little noises that really should just keep themselves to themselves, and all the while he clings tighter. He’s going to tear the seams of Aziraphale’s jacket.

Except that Aziraphale seems to be shaking too, and why? Crowley looks up in a haze to check on him with what little brain power he has left only to find his face screwed up in pain and soft tears dripping from the tip of his nose onto Crowley’s forehead. He lets go of Aziraphale’s coat and brings his arms up with much more effort than such a simple act should have taken to cradle Aziraphale’s face in his palms. He’s still shaking, and his palms are slightly clammy, and his fingertips are cold, and he’d take his hands away as soon as he noticed if it weren’t for the fact that Aziraphale was clutching his right hand to his face like he’d die without it, and Crowley could probably be shot in the chest right now and he wouldn’t pull his hands away to stop the bleeding. His fault. “I’m sorry,” he pushes out, voice wavering, hands pressed tight to Aziraphale’s cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he tries again when the first one just makes the angel suck in a breath that sounds far to painful for Crowley’s liking.

Aziraphale’s eyes open then, shining and beautiful blue, and Crowley wipes his tears away with his thumbs, careful not to move his hands too much and… Aziraphale leans down and kisses him. It’s chaste, and only on his cheekbone, but. Aziraphale kisses him. And he keeps going, all across his cheeks, and Crowley realizes somewhere in the middle of this flurry of kisses that Aziraphale is kissing away his tears. Which when he realizes this just causes more tears to fall. He’s letting out small sobs on every breath, sobs that are starting to turn into garbled, “I love you, I love you, I love yous” and trying his hardest to burrow as far into Aziraphale as he can. He wants to be surrounded by his solid weight, wants the realness of it to press into him until it replaces the air in his lungs with dizzying togetherness. Aziraphale is trying to keep up with his movement, trying to reach down to keep kissing his cheeks, and Crowley can’t believe he’s doing this after all these years of waiting for a kiss, but he just wants to hide and he can’t do that while keeping his face free for kisses.

It’s only when he’s sequestered away in the warm, soft cave between Aziraphale’s arms that his breathing starts to even out, that he starts to feel less like dying, and if it weren’t for the terror of his truth being laid bare after all these years of silence he might have fallen asleep. He hopes Aziraphale can forgive him this. Can forget he ever said anything. Hopes they can go back to what they had before. He thinks he should say so, if he can find the energy for it, but before he can Aziraphale speaks first. His voice sounds like its been dragged over gravel and shoved in a blender, but he says, “I love you too,” and Crowley can’t breathe. The air around him isn’t nearly enough to sustain him and, and.

Aziraphale notices right away, of course. Notices the returned gasping, feels Crowley’s neck arch against his chest as he tries to open his throat so that it might take in more air. Crowley knows he’s noticed because he starts to pull back, tries to give him room, and it’s worse, it’s worse, it’s worse without him. He reaches out, eyes squeezed shut, finds Aziraphale’s hand, brings it up to his throat and lays it over his windpipe and holds it there. He lays still then, they both do, and it works. His throat opens in increments under his touch. He opens his eyes back up and is met immediately by Aziraphale’s concerned face. He looks like his voice sounds, a bit, and Crowley wants to smooth it away but he’s too busy processing. “You, you do?”

Aziraphale lets loose what might be a choked laugh and nods. “I love you,” he repeats, like he’s afraid Crowley might actually die if he says it again but he can’t quite help it. “I love you.” He’s grinning now, they both are, and they must look like idiots, tear stained and flushed, but neither of them really care.

“I love you,” Crowley parrots back to him. Aziraphale laughs for real this time and gathers Crowley up again, still underneath him, and Crowley does his best imitation of an octopus and wraps him right up in return with his legs and his arms and it feels like he’s going to burst open, but in a good way this time. His chest is quivering with it, and his hummingbird heart is fluttering so fast it might give out and die, but it’s all fine, it’s all wonderful. He wonders if maybe they’ve been waiting together. If maybe Aziraphale saw his love painted so loudly over his features and decided to wait with him. They’re grasping at each other, like they might become one being if they just tug hard enough, and there’s a sharpness to their edges that there wasn’t before when there was so much crying involved. A desperation. A closer, closer, come closer, I missed you.

Their lips meet like this, in a hard press of joy and emotion. Without thought, a hopeful “Never leave me,” escapes Crowley’s lips, but before he even has the chance to start to worry Aziraphale is nodding and laughing and crying again, just a bit, and then they both are, and their lips meet again, and again, and Crowley wants to stay like this forever. He wants to climb into Aziraphale’s chest and never emerge, and he most definitely would, he’d find a way, if it weren’t for all of the outside of the angel he’d have to give up on then. His malleable hips and plush stomach. The soft wisps of his hair and the broad shoulders, both of which Crowley finds himself clutching in turns, desperately trying to stay tethered to the earth. He’s having a hard time focusing on anything but Aziraphale’s lips, the hot press and slide of them. Aziraphale nips at his lower lip, smooths over it with his tongue in apology, and sucks at it slightly for good measure, making Crowley groan deep in his chest. Aziraphale absolutely pillages his mouth after that. He forces his way in and licks his way deeper than Crowley assumed would even be comfortable whenever he’d contemplated kissing. He was very wrong.

If he had the brainpower for it, Crowley would have felt utterly useless under this barrage of lips and hands, able to do nothing but hang on for the ride and leave himself open and pliant to Aziraphale’s rough ministrations, but such thoughts had been out of his capacity for a long while now and didn’t seem to be returning any time soon. Hadn’t even bothered to send a postcard. Instead, he’s making needy little whines in the back of his throat that he doesn’t even have the capacity to be embarrassed about and is tugging at the sleeves of Aziraphale’s coat. He manages to break away for a moment, enough for a few breaths and a rushed, “Off, off, take it off,” before his mouth is claimed again by Aziraphale’s commanding lips. He continues tugging until Aziraphale rips himself away and sits up on Crowley’s hips and oh, Someone, he hadn’t even made a conscious decision to make an effort yet here he is, he can feel it, pulsing between his legs, and it looks like Aziraphale isn’t far behind if the bulge in his trousers is any indicator, and really, were so many layers necessary? Aziraphale tries to dip back down once he’s divested himself of his jacket but Crowley stops him with a hand on his chest, desperately tugging at the buttons of his vest.

Evidently, Aziraphale grows impatient with this as the next second he snaps his fingers and both of them are bare from the waist up. This wasn’t how Crowley envisioned this going at all. In his mind, he unbuttons Aziraphale’s shirt slowly, from the bottom up, kissing each inch of new skin as it’s revealed, sucking at mouthfuls of him until he’s littered with dark splotches from underbelly to sternum. In his mind, Crowley does this right, and slowly, and Aziraphale has no choice but to feel how much he’s loved. In reality Aziraphale is kissing and kissing and kissing him and their skin is bare and pressed up against each other and yes, okay, maybe there’s more than one version of a right way to do things. He’s so overwhelmed he might start crying again , but if Aziraphale pulls away a single inch he’ll implode so he squeezes his eyes shut tight and lets Aziraphale take and take.

They’re molded together, all of Aziraphale’s softness filling in the spaces of Crowley’s chest, and he’s never felt so known in all of his life. There isn’t an inch of him that doesn’t feel encompassed by his warmth. So when Aziraphale’s hand slips beneath his waistband, searching, Crowley arches up into him, desperate to maintain every point of contact. Crowley is trembling as Aziraphale slips his fingers between his folds, wet and dripping with fluid, and he’s fluttering around Aziraphale’s fingers, trying to open for him, trying to take in more of him, begging with every atom for more, more, please . When Aziraphale sweeps up with his thumb towards his clit he gives a series of sharp jerks and clenches his thighs around Aziraphale’s hand. He’s gasping and writhing as he wrenches out, “Angel, angel stop, please, you have to stop.”

Aziraphale pulls back with such haste Crowley winces at the sudden emptiness. “I’m sorry, oh, I’m sorry, dearest, I should have asked, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Crowley lets out a choked laugh and shakes his head, cutting Aziraphale off, “No, no love, you were perfect, I just didn’t want to come. Was so close, still am. Wanted to come with you inside of me. Please. If that’s okay.”

Aziraphale’s expression relaxes and a soft smile overtakes his face. “Of course, oh, of course, darling. Anything.” With that he slides down Crowley’s legs and starts tugging at his skinny jeans--they slip off easily only because neither of them are really putting much stock in obstacles right now and the universe, as always, is inclined to agree. His underwear comes next, then his socks are removed with efficiency and he’s completely bare beneath Aziraphale’s gaze. Crowley does his best not to squirm as Aziraphale looks his fill and mostly succeeds, but his blush betrays him, spreading from his face, down his neck and over his chest until he fancies he looks a bit like a lobster. Aziraphale must really like lobsters with the way he’s looking at Crowley right now. Aesthetically, not just to eat, although he does like to eat lobster an awful lot, and he does look like he might devour Crowley at any moment. Crowley shifts again, “So are you just going to look, or…?”

This seems to shake Aziraphale free of his reverie and he blinks as he comes back to the same plane of existence where Crowley is waiting for him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so distracted. It’s just…” Crowley is squirming in apprehension under Aziraphale’s gaze and Aziraphale rests his warm palm over Crowley’s stomach to quiet him. “You’re so beautiful.”

Crowley flushes a deeper red, if that’s possible, and looks away. “‘S not like you haven’t seen me before.”

“No,” Aziraphale agrees, “but this is the first time I’ve really been allowed to look.”

“Ah.” Crowley looks even more determinedly at the far wall, then allows himself a quick glance up to Aziraphale’s face. He tries for nonchalance, “It’s getting lonely down here, angel.”

“Of course, of course, just let me--” Aziraphale strips proficiently, seemingly unaware of the demon short-circuiting as he watches, and climbs back on top of Crowley. All of this happens in a rather short amount of time, and Crowley doesn’t understand where this composure Aziraphale seems to have is even coming from. Aziraphale settles himself on top of Crowley with a wiggle, something so very characteristic of him that Crowley feels fireworks of joy going off inside of his skull, his chest. The fireworks are putting his hummingbird in serious danger of being singed. He’s also struggling to breathe at the moment. Aziraphale’s cock, flushed, cut, and tilted slightly to the left, is resting solidly on his stomach. His balls are sitting directly on top of his pelvis. His thighs are spread around his sides, encompassing him, holding him, and Crowley can’t even see . Not enough air, his eyes aren’t cooperating. He thinks he’s gone a bit cross eyed but he can’t tell, and he desperately forces his vision back into focus. He can’t miss a second of this.

He wants Aziraphale between his thighs, wants him right now, wants him more than he’s ever wanted anything. He thinks he might come at the slightest brush but he’s willing to risk it. “Come, come here, come here,” He manages to gasp. He’s pushing, pulling, shoving Aziraphale where he wants him, and Aziraphale is laughing, and Crowley is smiling too, and giggling, just a little, the rest of him is a white out of lust and need, and finally, finally, Aziraphale is there. Laying on top of him, his full weight pushing Crowley into the couch cushions mercilessly. Cradled between his legs and pulled closer, ever closer, by insisting calves and heels and hands. Aziraphale is still laughing when Crowley captures his lips in his own.

From there it devolves into an intense, clutching, slide of lips and bodies and Crowley is breaking away when he can, “Inside me, inside, now, come on,” and Aziraphale is gripping his cock by the base, pushing in slowly, stopping and starting, giving Crowley time to adjust. Crowley moans and throws his head back and forth, “Faster, angel, please, come on, you can go faster, it doesn’t hurt.” At his encouragement Aziraphale lets himself bottom out with a long, slow slide. They stay like that for a moment, both afraid of coming, both reveling in the closeness. Crowley clutching at Aziraphale’s shoulders, his legs wrapped around his ass, constricting, keeping him there. Crowley speaks up again, “Think we could stay like this?”

Aziraphale lets out a huff of distracted laughter, “I think we’ll have to move eventually.”

“Come on, just for a few hundred years?” Aziraphale is grinning, his face is tucked into Crowley’s neck, he can feel him grinning, “No?”

Aziraphale drags his nose up Crowley’s neck until his mouth is hovering over Crowley’s ear and speaks in a voice far too prim and put together for the circumstances, “The way I see it, we could do one of two things. Either I miracle myself hard forever and we stay just like this until we’re through,” Crowley makes a noise of protest, “or for forever, I suppose, if you insist,” his suggestion is rewarded with a hum of satisfaction, “or we could finish up here and start all over again.” Crowley groans low in his throat at the thought. He knows Aziraphale is just teasing but that doesn’t quell the visceral reaction of need that rushes through him as he thinks of spending the rest of eternity with his angel, close like this.

“Sssecond one” he hisses, losing control of his tongue for a moment.

Aziraphale sounds very pleased with himself at Crowley’s hiss, “Well, if you insist.” With that he pulls out and slams back in, making Crowley’s back arch like he’s been shocked with a live wire. Crowley manages an amused thought, of course he needed a snappy one liner, and a rush of affection before he’s lost again. Aziraphale takes him hard, fast, and deep, driving into Crowley’s center will all the stamina of an ethereal being built for war. Crowley’s moaning uncontrollably now, and Aziraphale is letting out punched out breaths with every thrust. Aziraphale props himself on one arm and reaches between them to rub against Crowley’s clit, driving his moans higher and louder until he’s making no noise at all, overwhelmed by the intensity of the feeling. Everywhere, it’s everywhere, Aziraphale is everywhere. In every pore and crevice, between his ribs and under his tongue and deep in his belly where everything is tight and quivering and, “Oh, oh, oh my God, Aziraphale!” Crowley means to shout, he thinks, but he can’t find the air to and it’s more of a forced whisper as he comes in shock waves of pleasure, Aziraphale working him through it and continuing to pound into him ruthlessly.

When Crowley is finished he’s terribly oversensitive but he lays back and takes it, hugging Aziraphale to his chest gently. He tucks Aziraphale’s face into his neck and holds him close and speaks to him softly as he finishes, “Come on, come for me love. That’s it, you’re doing so well. Made me feel so good. Let me see you now, it’s my turn.” Aziraphale comes with a broken cry, pumping in and out of Crowley’s aching cunt with abandon, before finally going still and collapsing on top of him. Crowley never wants to move, not ever, so when Aziraphale moves to pull out Crowley lets him leave with a cry of dismay.

Aziraphale is close to him instantly, “I’m not gone, dearest, I’m not leaving. I’m never leaving, remember? Don’t you worry now.” As Aziraphale comforts Crowley he runs his fingers firmly though his crimson hair, warm with sweat at the roots, and tucks one arm under his torso to press them together. They’re slippery with sweat and Crowley knows he’ll regret not miracling away Aziraphale’s come a little later, but at present he can’t bear to have anything change, anything at all. He clings to Aziraphale wantonly and urges him to let his full weight rest over him once again. Crowley doesn’t know how long they’re laying there before Aziraphale is pulling himself up Crowley’s body with soothing little noises and repositioning them. Crowley goes, limp as a rag doll, lets himself be tucked up into Aziraphale’s arms and it’s even better, somehow, how is it better? How can this possibly get any better? But this way Aziraphale is holding Crowley instead of the other way around, and Crowley is certain nothing so vitally important has happened in all the history of the world, not since the creation of oxygen, surely.

They fall asleep like that, eventually, skin against skin. Crowley is not sure of much, not anymore, not since Armageddon when everything came crashing down around his ears, but thinks he’s sure of Aziraphale. Thinks he believes him when he says I love you. Thinks that he could not have chosen gentler hands to soothe the frantic beating of his hummingbird heart, and he lets himself rest.

Be My Valentine - Alastor x Female Reader

♥️HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Also I know Alastor is AroAce, but lets just assume in this fic he is not. Enjoy♥️

It was finally Valentine’s Day in Hell, a little holiday that some demons enjoy doing with their partners and others that find it absolutely ridiculous, like a certain deer demon. Alastor didn’t much care for a silly little festivity like this. He found romance a bit ridiculous, but he wouldn’t go as far as to make fun of someone else in a relationship, it wasn’t who he was. He did find Charlie and Vaggie’s relationship adorable, since he saw how happy the two of them were together. The little sparks between Husker and Angel were easy for him to spot, and it led to lot of teasing at the hands of Alastor, which earned him a middle finger from a certain cat on occasions.

Since it was Valentine’s Day, Charlie thought it would be a great idea to decorate the hotel. Heart paper strings were hanging from the ceiling, along with XOXO and heart balloons on the walls. It wouldn’t be Valentine’s Day without some sweets, so Charlie along with Niffty made some chocolate covered strawberries and pretzels for everyone else to enjoy. You were trying to figure out how to help liven the mood. “Music would be nice” you thought. Heading over to the record player, you skimmed for any good songs to play. Frank Sinatra was what you picked, and you decided to play that. The melody began to carry out all throughout the lobby, catching everyone ears, causing them to sway. “Ah! Excellent choice my dear!” You heard Al’s voice call out from behind you. He was sitting on one of the chairs, with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, wearing a pleasing smile. Smiling back, you made your way over to the couch and took a seat, listening to the tunes.

Soon Charlie came running back, “Okay everyone! Ready to start the Valentine gift exchange!” Before the decorations were put up, Charlie suggested that everyone pitch in and do a Valentine gift exchange. The gifts would be exchanged between two individuals: Charlie + Vaggie, Angel Dust + Husk, Niffty + Sir Pentious, and You + Alastor. Everyone got together and presented the gifts. Charlie had given a bottle of perfume and new hair bow for Vaggie. Vaggie gave Charlie a unicorn plushie and T-shirt with their faces on them. Angel got Husk a fancy bottle of Italian wine. Husk gave Angel a popular perfume from the Lust ring plus some mini outfits for Fat Nuggets. Niffty had actually handmade mini plushies of Sir Pentious and his egg bois. Sir Pentious got Niffty some roses plus a new sewing kit.

Now it was time for you and Alastor to exchange gifts. While you did have something for Al, there was something else you wanted to give him, but it was a surprise. Alastor was smiling down at you, hands behind his back, holding a mini box and bouquet. “Here you are my dear!” He handed you the box and flowers. Ahh he remembered how much you loved (your favorite flowers). Thanking Alastor, you opened the box, which contained a beautiful ruby necklace

“W-ow Al! This is beautiful! Thank you.” Holding the necklace up, you looked up at Alastor, face flushed. “You’re welcome, my dear! Allow me!” Grabbing the necklace from your hands, he motioned his body behind you, helping to place the necklace around your neck. Turning back around, you pulled out your gift and presented it to Al, “Happy Valentines Day Al” Grabbing the black box with red ribbon from your hand, he opened it, revealing a new rose tinted monocle. He had broken the one he had before, and didn’t have the time to replace it. “Ah I needed a new monocle. Thank you kindly, y/n!” Smiling you nodded your head and faced back towards the others

Al looked into the box again and saw a little piece of paper that was placed underneath the monocle. Turning away, he took the paper out and read it:

“ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ ᴀᴛ 8 ᴘᴍ”

Well well, what was this? Another surprise, perhaps? Smile widening on his face, He placed the paper in his suit pocket, before turning back to everyone like nothing happened. The day continued as normal, with everyone chatting about random topics and participating in some bonding activities like board games and watching some random romance movies. It soon gotten late and it was time for everyone to head to bed, or so you thought. The glances you saw between Charlie and Vaggie hinted that they were going to be doing something else. Even Husk and Angel dust, especially since you saw Angel dragging Husk into his bedroom, well good for them, they make a cute couple. Going to head up and finish your plans, your eyes caught Al who had looked right at you. You smiled and walked away.

**8 PM- Alastors POV**

"Hmm I wonder what the little darling has planned for me?” Al thought to himself, as he made his way to the location you told him in the note. Ascending up the stairs, Al arrived at the door that led to the rooftop and opened it slowly. His eye widen at what he saw. In front of him was a small dinner table with chairs, decorated with candles and roses.

He was left stunned by what he saw. Walking closer to where the table is, he admired the little set-up. "Do you like it?" Turning his head around, Al saw you standing there, wearing a flowy black dress, bright smile place on your face. Alastor looked back at the table, then at you, "Was this the little surprise you had planned for me? If you wanted to have dinner with me, all you had to do was ask, my dear." Alastor gave a soft smile, making his way to you, lifting your chin, "You look positively radiant, darling." His words caused you to flush, "T-thank you. Go and take a seat Al. I'll be right back," Alastor smiled and let you go, heading over to the chair to take a seat.

Soon, you came back holding two plates, the aroma wafting off of them was mouth-watering. Placing them down, the smile on Al's face had widen. In front of him was a tender venison steak, his favorite, along with a side of salad and baked potatoes.

After that, you had grabbed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and poured it into the wine glasses for both you and Al. Once everything was set in place, you slowly took a seat on the other side of the table. "This is my first time cooking venison, so I hope you like it." You fidgeted with your fingers under the table. "This looks spectacular! Thank you my dear!" He grabbed his wine glass and held it up in front of you, "Cheers, my dear!" Smiling, you grabbed your glass, bumping it against Al's, letting out a small clink. The both of you started to eat the meal you prepared, well you were watching Al more than eating, monitoring his reaction. You knew about his diet and what he mainly ate, so last thing you wanted was for him to try the venison you prepared and do a spit-take. The fork in Al's hand, held a piece of steak, and slowly it made its way into his mouth. The whole time you were sitting there, gazing at his reaction to see if he liked it. His expression didn't change, but he went back in for another bite, and another, and another. Heaving a sigh of relief, you were happy that he liked the meal, letting you go back to your meal.

Soon the both of you had finished eating, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Delicious!" Al said, wearing a pleasant smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Are you in the mood for some dessert?" You said as you got up from the table, and made your way over to grab the dessert that was hidden. Walking back, you placed a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries on the table.

"My dear, you know I'm not a fan of sweets." Al said to you, while looking at the bowl with strained face. "I made these myself using dark chocolate, so they won't be as sweet, trust me." Grabbing one of the strawberries, you held it up towards all, "Say ahh." Al raised an eyebrow at that, but he shook his head, amused at your actions, before taking a bite. Looking at him, you were expecting him to spit it out, but surprisingly he swallowed, "Not bad!"

Whew, glad he liked them. Now it was time to tell him what you were thinking/feeling. "Um Al? Can I ask you something?" Alastor looked at you, smiling like the joker. "Of course my dear! What is it?" He leaned in, placing his elbows on the table, lifting his head up with his hands. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy, and your palms were sweating. Your eyes looked down at your hands, until you turned your head back up to look at Al. "W-will you be my valentine?" Alastor eyes widen at that statement, but he continued to gaze at you. Feeling nervous, you looked back down to your hands, "Y-you don't have to answer, I understand you find romance and stuff a hindrance." you said. The two of you were sitting in awkward silence, until you heard his chair scrap across the ground, indicating he had gotten up. You knew it, he was going to leave. You had made him upset.

A hand was placed under your chin, making you look up. Alastor hadn't left, he had only gotten up to get closer to you. "Stand up, my dear." He said to you. Moving slowly, you got up from your chair and stood in front of Al. He continued to look down at you, his eyes flashing crimson. Then he got closer, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. "What an adorable request! I must admit, developing relationships with another is still new to me. However! I wouldn't mind forming one with you, my dear. I accept!" He whispered all of this in your ear, causing goosebumps to form. Your eyes got teary, as you hugged him back. After a while, Alastor moved a bit, placing one hand under your chin, and the around your back. He had a small smile on his face and his eyes were soft. "Happy Valentines day, my doe." His head moved closer to yours, causing you to slowly shut your eyes, letting his lips press against yours in a soft kiss.

~END~

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman

Lord help me❤️😳❤️😳❤️😳❤️Al has no right speaking like that at the end!!!!!

Scenario: Teaching Alastor To Kiss

(A/N: This is based off of a previous post I made where I talked about how the main group would kiss, & I concluded that Alastor would be bad at it, lmao. I’m still a simp, so I gotta redeem him a little bit, pun totally intended. This may be ooc, but it’s my hyperfixation, & I shall do as I please with it)

“Remind me again, darling, what is the point of practicing such a trivial activity?”

You sighed a bit, rolling your eyes at the demonic deers tone. Perhaps you should have guessed that Alastor wouldn’t know how to kiss. He had (begrudgingly) admitted to having never been in a relationship before you, so it made sense that he had never been kissed before, & wouldn’t be sure how it works. But it would be nice if the egotistical asshole would shelve his pride for 5 seconds so you could help him through this. “Come on Alastor, kissing is just like any other skill. It takes practice, & patience. So if we’re gonna do this, you gotta work with me. It’s okay to not be good at it at first.” 

A laugh track echoed around the room. “Ha! Oh, you truly do know just how to make me laugh, my dear! As if mashing one's face with another requires much skill. What a ridiculous notion all together!” You rolled your eyes. Why were you bothering with him again? You almost decide to just give up entirely before feeling his hand carefully take hold of yours, pulling your attention back to him. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to subject myself to such foolish flights of fancy. If only just this once.” You smiled softly at him, slowly placing your hand on his cheek. The sound of radio static filled the room for a moment, before lulling down into a subtle hum. “If you don’t wanna do this,” You murmured, squeezing his hand slightly in an effort to calm him. “It’s okay. We really don’t have to.” There was a beat of silence, save for the gentle hum of static, before he nodded, his smile strained. You wouldn’t lie & say it was perfect at first- A couple instances of uncomfortable teeth kissing, fumbling at trying to carefully instruct him on how to hold his head, & reminders to keep his lips closed, but after a few minutes, there was a very noticeable improvement.

“You’re doing much better,” You smiled, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Lets give it one more try, alright?” You could feel the air around you buzzing around erratically as the grating sound of radio static filled the room, but nonetheless, Alastor kept on a brave smile & nodded once again, shutting his eyes & leaning forward like you had taught him to. You press your lips softly against his, eyes fluttering shut as you shut out the world & focused on the feeling of his mouth against yours. His kiss was soft, careful, & dare you say unsure. There was a vulnerability in it that was completely out of character for the radio demon. Had anyone else ever been with him in such a revealing state? You knew all too well the answer was no. The fact he was here with you like this was… Would it be too cliche to describe it as... Heavenly? The gentle hum of the radio static turns into the soft melody of strings & what you could have sworn was a saxophone. Was- Was he playing slow jazz??? You chuckled softly, pulling away as a consequence of your giggles. Alastor's ears twitched back & forth slightly as he laughed right along with you. "Forgive me darling, but the silence was dreadful! I simply had to do something about it before it killed me. Again!" You shook your head in disbelief as you reached the end of your little giggle fit, playfully nudging his side. "That's fair. Even I feel a bit awkward when kissing someone in total silence." Alastor hummed softly, stroking your cheek before grabbing you by the jaw, placing his other hand on the small of your back as his smile stretched out wide across his face, his crimson gaze glowing eerily. "Well then, I suppose we'll just have to make some noise, won't we my dear?"

Wish this was me right now. Angel dust is such a tease and sweetheart at the same time, lord jesus 💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️💋❣️

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request Angel Dust x inexperienced! reader where Angel teaches reader how to properly kiss? This can be a mix of both a little spicy yet fluffy thank you!!!!❤️❤️❤️

Hiya sweetheart! Here ya go! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Angel Dust teaching an inexperienced s/o how to kiss

tags: fluffy, slightly spicy/smutty, implied masc reader but still gn!, friends to lovers, kissing, making out, grinding || Minors don't interact, please!

"Gosh, sweetheart, yer shakin' like a leaf," Angel brushes his hair back. "Sure ya wanna do this? Not gonna force ya." He squeezes your hand, stroking his thumb across your knuckles. You're sat facing one another on Angel's plush bed, both dressed in comfy clothing. He's wearing black shorts with an oversized flushed pink off-the-shoulder tee and long striped socks.

Vehemently, you shake your head, reaching to take his hand in yours. The air is thick and hot, a palpable humidity that clings to your skin in a sickly sweet way. The knot of anxiety in your stomach twists and turns, watching with apprehensive eyes as Angel slowly crawls across the pink sheets until his hot breath fans against your slightly parted lips. He parts his legs, kneeling with you between his legs.

One set of arms carefully grasps your chin, the second stroking up and down your shoulders and arms, and the third are settled politely on your hips. You feel like you're floating already and he's barely touched you, already a bit overwhelmed with his gentle caresses.

Angel softly nuzzles your nose. "Yer so fuckin' cute, baby. I'm honored ya picked little ol' me." His smile is genuine, stroking your hair softly. "'M gonna kiss ya now, okay? Hmm?" He hums, inches from your mouth. "Gimme yer words, baby, need'ta hear ya."

"Yes," you gasp. Angel slots his mouth to yours slowly, pulling back shortly after. When you don't disengage he dives back in again, lips molded against yours. Like they were made to be together. Fuck, he's wanted to do this forever.

Carefully, Angel lifts you up into his arms, falling back onto his plush pillows with you on top of him. Gasping he pulls away from your divine lips, a string of saliva linking both your tongues. "Still okay?" There's a certain sparkle in his eyes you haven't seen before. Eagerly you nod, bowing at the waist to claim his lips with yours again. Letting out a soft moan, Angel pants heavily, the hands on your hips slowly tugging you along his hardening cock already staining the black fabric with precum.

Sucking in harshly, Angel collects you with all sets of his arms to push you back into the pillows. He towers over you, one of his hands linking with yours and pressing your knuckles into the sheets. His hips roll against you, gasping. He's throbbing so fuckin' hard, sweat clinging to his skin, and it's getting harder for him to think coherently.

Angel whimpers softly when your hand presses to the outline of his bulge. He quickly grasps your hand and tugs it away. "Tonight's about you, baby, don't worry about me, 'kay?" He stares down at you. Fuck, you look amazing. Smiling up at him with your kiss-bitten lips and rapidly rising and falling chest. You're holding his hands so lovingly, beaming up at him like he hung the fuckin stars in the sky. His undead heart soars at how sweet you are for him.

Your voice is soft when you speak. "I'd like to. If you're comfortable with it." He all but groans with the thought of your mouth wrapped around his cock. He's gonna bust in his shorts if he's not careful.

"Sweets, I want nothing more than ta show you how much I love ya." Slowly, Angel returns your hand to his dick, gasping with a pleased shudder. He covers your hand with his, showing you how he likes to be touched. This night certainly took an interesting turn of events. Not that you'd find Angel complaining.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

Thank you for doing my request @chocopokkie . It was so cute and romantic ❤️🩷❤️

Love your work❤️🩷 Could I request Alastor X Female Reader kissing for the first time since they been together. Starts off slow then intensifies. Can be fluff/spicy

Hi!! Thank you for the request, I really hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it!

Warnings: None?

"So, toots, you're telling me you and Freaky Face haven't done ANYTHING? Not even KISS?" Angel Dust exclaimed boisterously, his voice reverberating through the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel as you two lounged in the plush seating.

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at his blunt question. "N-no, that's not true! We... we hold hands!" you hastily defended, your words tumbling out in a rush as you sought to explain the extent of your relationship with Alastor.

Angel Dust let out a raucous laugh, his scarlet eyes glittering with mischief. "Holdin' hands, huh? Real scandalous stuff, toots."

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. "Oh, shut up, Angel. It's not like you're one to talk about romance."

He grinned wickedly, leaning in closer. "Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I know plenty about romance. Just not the kind that involves hand-holding if ya know what I mean."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his irreverent teasing, grateful for the distraction from your own awkwardness. Despite Angel Dust's antics, a warm fondness for your peculiar relationship with Alastor filled your heart. Yes, you wanted more but you didn't know how to voice your desires to him.

"Ok, Angel, what would you do if you were in my situation?" you asked, hoping for some feedback that might help from your friend.

"Oh, what WOULDN'T I do, toots?~" Angel Dust purred in response, a suggestive gleam dancing in his crimson eyes as he leaned closer with a playful grin. You playfully swatted him again, sharing a laugh. It was typical of him to respond with something sexual, and you should have known you'd get an answer like that.

--That night--

You were just about ready to head to bed after a long day, lights turning off when you hear knocking at the door. Who could that be at this hour, you wonder. Slightly annoyed, you flip the lights back on, get out of bed, and answer the door only to see your partner Alastor at the door. "Hello, Cher, I hope I'm not intruding on anything!" Alastor happily exclaims, his voice carrying an eerie cheerfulness as he steps past you, inviting himself into your room. Despite your initial surprise, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his unexpected visit.

"Oh, Alastor! Not at all, make yourself comfortable!" You hastily say, flustered at his surprise appearance. You two have been in a relationship for a while but this is the first time he has been in your room.

Alastor's smile widens, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he saunters further into the room. "Well, well, aren't you the hospitable host!" he chuckles, his voice smooth as velvet.

You can't help but smile at his playful demeanor, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach, being with Alastor always feels like coming home.

You move over to your bed and sit down at the edge, casting a tentative glance towards Alastor who remains standing in the middle of the room. "Soooo, what can I help you with?" you ask, the words tumbling out awkwardly. You've never felt this awkward around Alastor before, except perhaps in those early days when you were still getting to know each other. But there's something different about him right now, something that sets your heart racing and leaves you feeling inexplicably anxious.

Alastor starts stalking towards your position on the bed with an almost predatory grace, his movements fluid yet purposeful. He stands directly in front of you, his presence looming over you, and delicately places a gloved hand on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I just wanted to come and see you, darling," he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety rumble that resonates deep within you. "It's been such a busy day for us both, after all." His words are laced with a hint of longing, a vulnerability that you rarely see in him, and it fills you with a strange mixture of tenderness and apprehension.

He moves gracefully and takes a seat next to you on your bed, his hand still gently caressing your cheek as his gaze remains locked with yours. "And also, maybe I came here to be a little selfish," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of mischief that leaves you intrigued. Selfish? The word hangs in the air, leaving you momentarily perplexed as you try to decipher its meaning. Before you can even process the thought fully, Alastor leans in closer, his eyes closing. His lips meet yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss, catching you completely off guard. What has come over him all of a sudden? In that instant, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sweet rhythm of your shared passion, the world fading away until there is only the two of you, bound together in an electrifying embrace.

The kiss intensifies, and you feel the gentle pressure of Alastor's tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, a silent request for permission that you eagerly grant without hesitation. With a soft sigh of surrender, you part your lips, inviting him in with a newfound sense of urgency. The taste of him, mingled with the heady scent of desire, sends a thrill coursing through your veins.

The kiss was only a minute or two, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. As you break apart, breathless and exhilarated, you can't help but utter a soft "Oh wow," your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. Alastor lets out a breathy chuckle, his crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. "What? Did you like that, cher?" he teases, his voice laced with playful affection. The warmth of his gaze washes over you, and you find yourself smiling in response, unable to contain the swell of happiness that fills your chest.

Oh you couldn't wait to tell Angel Dust about this.

Firsts

Day 1: First kiss 

Sam x reader

Summary: Sam and the reader have been dating for a month. But how does their first kiss go? Will it go well, or could it end in chaos? 

a/n: Start of my 30 day challenge! Though lets be real this will take longer than 30 days XD Hope you enjoy, I really enjoyed writing this, just wish I was able to write longer stories, and hopefully one day I’ll build the courage to write a series.

warnings: Firsts, gentle, soft, super fluffy!

word count: 1113

You and Sam had been dating a little over a month. You were taking things slow. You did a weekly date night when you were both free, going out for coffee, walks and movies. It was nice, and it was slow. Just like the two of you wanted. It had taken to the second week of dating for you to build enough courage to slide your hand into his. You remember the feeling, his hand was warm, and calloused, but soft and gentle at the same time. He was gentle, he didn’t clench tight around your hand, but he didn’t leave it limp. It felt awkward and first, and Sam looked like a tomato as your hand touched his, but he smiled slightly. His facial expression communicating how much he loves you, his eyes sparkling with happiness, showing the unspoken words between the two of you.

Currently, the two of you were sat on your sofa, a plush grey coloured thing that had seen better days, but you covered it with a crochet blanket, and it looked like it was new again. Though Sam didn’t care, all that he cared about was being near you, even if you were sat on the other end of the couch, a gap between the two of you.

You’re not sure what movie Sam had put on for this week’s date night. To be honest you weren’t paying attention, instead you were watching your boyfriend. The way he laughs, his lips stretching across his face, white teeth parted as a guttural laugh escaped from his chest, his eyes squinting and crinkling up. The way he bit his soft red lip when the movie amped up, and he waited on the edge of the seat, eyes fixated on the screen.

You took a deep breath, shuffling closer towards him, closing the space. Sam looked at you out the corner of his eye, a small smile gracing his lips. They entranced you, and you found yourself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. Closing the space, you rested your head on Sam’s shoulder. You were stiff at first, and he froze when he felt your head lower down, resting against him. The most contact you two had, had since first dating.

“Relax y/n” He whispered, moving his head, and placing it on top of yours. You breathed out a sigh of relief, body easing, moulding into him. He was warm, comfortable and you knew you could spend your entire life curled up into the side of the gentle giant. The movie was ending, the credits started to roll, and you snuggled closer into his shoulder, nose in his neck breathing in his scent. He smelt of pine trees, with hints of amber and lavender. He smelt like home. He chuckled, dipping his head slightly and pecking your head. His lips were even softer than you imagined, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you, so you tucked your head further into him.

“I’m sorry y/n. I should have asked first” He mumbled in shame, scared that you didn’t like it.

“I liked it” You breathed against his skin, causing a big smile to erupt across his face.

“What was that?” He smirked, having heard you clearly the first time, but wanting to see your face while you said it. You shuffled closer into his neck, breath fanning against his skin again, as you were about to repeat yourself. But his soft hand reached under your chin, lifting your head up, you closed your eyes, face and ears hot with embarrassment. “Open those pretty eyes y/n” He whispered gently.

You opened your eyes looking at him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, what was that?” He continued, smirking a little.

“I liked it” You turned your head away, but he turned it back to look at him. You could see the happy smile spread across his face, his eyes showing all his adoration, his cheeks rosy. Your eyes flicked between his eyes and lips. God, you wanted to know what his lips would feel like on yours, and subconsciously, you poked your tongue out and licked your lips. Sam noticed straight away; you weren’t making anything subtle.

He moved his hand slowly, calculated. Making sure not to startle you, to not scare you away. Hand gently placed on the back of your neck, leaning in. You snapped out of your trance, when you felt his breath on your lips, your heart rate speeding up. Nodding at Sam, giving him permission, you closed your eyes. It felt like years before his lips touched yours.

They were plump. They were delicious, and you wanted more. But he pulled away.

“Are you sure your ok with this” He purred. You nodded, not trusting your voice, eyes fluttering slightly before you initiated the kiss this time, leaning in, placing a hand against his chest to steady yourself. You could feel the beating of his heart, it was fast and energetic, just like yours.

This time as your lips met you pressed a little harder, the gentle kiss was amazing, but you much preferred it this way. Feeling the pressure, as he pressed his lips back into yours. Your lips danced together, like they were made to be. You didn’t have to think about anything, in fact you didn’t think about anything. Your mind was surrounded by Sam, his smell, his touch, his taste.

He slipped his tongue out, tenderly pressing against your lips. You parted them slowly and he hesitantly entered your mouth, tongue exploring, until it met yours. Your tongues danced together, just like your lips did, fighting for dominance, and it wasn’t long until Sam won.

Though all good things must come to an end, and the two of you pulled apart, saliva connecting the two of you, your hand still resting on his chest, which was rising and falling rapidly as the two of you panted, gasping for air. His hand moved from the back of your neck, to play with a strand of your hair. You looked up at him, through your lashes. A beaming smile spreading across your face, Sam’s face like a mirror reflecting your expression.

You shifted around to your knees, putting more weight on his chest, leaning in quickly and pecking his lips. It was quick, lips ghosting against each other barely touching, and you just giggled at the pure happiness that was spread across Sam’s face.

“I’m guessing you liked that” Sam murmured. You smiled brightly, before snuggling back into his side, as he selected another movie. Sometimes the best date nights, were the ones that were spent inside.

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Main master list | Challenge masterlist | Day 2