Request: OMG I’m so happy to see that the
requests are open again! I want to say that I LOVE your writing and I was
wondering if you could do a Steve x reader smut where they have a strained
relationship but then they have to share a bed during an undercover mission and
that leads to sex, possibly with rough/Dom!Steve after all the tension (maybe
they had to pretend they were a couple for the mission or something). Feel free
to change this if you want I trust your writing genius :)
Warnings: Smut, Dom!Steve, hair pulling, captain kink, dirty talk, orgasm
denial, light spanking, light choking, oral sex, swearing, Steve is a little tease
Author’s Note: I’d like to again dedicate this one to @scarlets-wanda,
who tried to sneak the fact that it was her birthday last week past me! So in
return, I wrote this for her. Enjoy.
lance and keith’s birthdays are on the same day but because they’ve lost track of time in space and with zarkon doing his evil no one has payed attention to what day it is
hunk and shiro are the first to realise their shared special day bc they’re both preparing for a birthday gift
of course hunk is preparing lance and shiro is doing keith
they go to TheSpaceMall for it in disguises (hunk barely resists going to Vrepit Sals to say hi)
they only realise that they’re not buying for the same person after shiro buys a boomerang knife and hunk buys a quantum powered water pistol
shiro and hunk get the rest of the group in on it and they decide to throw a themed birthday party
they divide the rest area of the castle in two and decorate each side for each of the boys; keith’s is red with MCR blasting out the speakers and mariokart whilst lance’s is blue playing carly rae jepsen and a zarkon pinata
(neither of them discover it all being set up because allura implied keith was stronger than lanceand now they have to prove each other wrong)
at the centre of the room is a huge, custom made cake by hunk
one side of the cake is decorated for lance and right down the middle it changes to be decorated for keith
they are both completely different flavours that should not mix
coran closes the room for ‘jigger glout’ reasons to hide it
the next morning, on the boys’ birthdays, hunk tells lance he should go annoy keith by pointing out that he’s older than keith
lance is horrified and orders keith be born on a different day, which no one understands but it’s clear lance is angry
keith is just confused because outside a cupcake and a candle with shiro his birthday has never been a big thing for him
lance demands birthday recompense and asks keith for a gift-keith does the same and they quite literally butt heads
but when lance sees the party that’s been organised he’s even more shook-HOW DARE BLACK PARADE BESMIRCH CALL ME MAYBE
but once he’s done being a drama queen the two of them have a good time, keith being the one to eventually break the pinata with his knife and lance kicking no one’s ass at mariokart because as much as he likes winning he likes seeing his friends happy more
lance and keith both turn out to love the cake, both flavours, which confuses hunk because he was certain lance would hate a carrot cake
keith eats carrot cake no one is happy and they all silently judge the way shiro has raised him.
pidge does admit that matt also likes carrot cake so shiro might have just been a horrible influence
a food fight occurs when allura trips lance into the remaining cake and keith gets revenge for “the birthday boy”
shiro makes them share gifts because there are so few until lance cuts himself on keith’s knife and keith almost detonates the entire ship with the water pistol’s firing mechanism
eventually lance and keith sit around talking about past birthdays on the sofas they’ve had whilst everyone else does their own thing
keith doesn’t have much to say but it’s not a problem-he loves listening
the two of them talk until the wee hours of the morning and don’t realise they’re asleep until they wake up covered in a blanket from hunk
the resulting fuss and complaining they make isn’t entirely genuine
just some sassy vic moments // happy birthday to the hard-working, kind and lovely leader. Who is willing to do anything for her members. Her work ethic and dedication to her career is unparalleled. Even though she may be worn down from her activities she never lets it show and finishes every performance full of energy. To our leader who has been through so much and who is still with f(x) thank you Song Qian! ~
Will there be more of the parallel universe one where Claire is pregnant?
Note from WTT: So this isn’t a continuation of the parallel universe fic, I’m not sure when I’ll get to that one so please enjoy this different parallel universe fic!
“…and that’s how this particular set of mountains got their names, at least if you believe the story of an old woman passed down from the generations.” The old woman smiled, the creases of her skin wrinkling in happiness.
“Thank you! You’ve been such a help to us. Do you know of anywhere where the artifacts you mention might be? I’d love to be able to provide a sketch for my books,” Uncle Lamb asked, intriguing the old woman again. Their talk was animated and I wandered about the room, the odd carvings and paintings leading to knick-knacks and heirlooms. It’s a wonder that these things were made, let alone still existed in the twentieth century.
A shine caught my eye as I paced by the small, but ornate hearth. Tucked behind a carving of the Virgin Mary was something metallic. Groping behind the statue, I could just feel the object with my fingertips.
“Aha!” I gasped in triumph when the object was secured in my fist. “A knife?”
The small knife had a shiny, well worn handle with the perfect finger holds, it felt warm and fit perfectly in my hand. I turned it over inspecting the craftsmanship. The silver was finely polished but there were nicks and scratches all along the edge proving that this had been used, and maybe not just for household needs. If there was a design on the handle it had long since been rubbed into smoothness. The only flaw was closer to the blade where a small chunk of wood was missing, exposing the metal beneath.
“So ye found my ancestors wee knife, hmm?”
I jumped and let out a squeal the knife flying from my hand and landing tip first into the wood near my foot.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to pry, I just—well it was that the blade—I—”
The old woman held up her hand shook her head. “Och, dinna fash yerself one bit. This blade is tough and old. I doubt you could do any harm to it. The way you were holding it showed more that you’d be the one to get hurt. Never point the blade at yourself. You nearly took out a toe when you dropped it.”
To emphasize her point, the old woman stooped down and pulled the blade from the floor, giving her left big toe a thump with the flat part of the blade.
“This knife has been in my family for generations. The story is said that it was owned by a witch and she used it to make her brews here in this very cabin. But that’s just to scare off the locals children. The truth of the blade is that it was owned by a healer who lived on this mountain, nearly two hundred years ago. She helped raise my great-great-great grandmother as well as her own family. My great-great grandfather always had it on the mantle. I never understood why as a child that my great grandparents and grandparents continued to do so. ‘It brings luck!’ Uncle Thomas would say, or ‘It’s magic and it’ll keep folk from messing with us!’ my Grandda Beardsley would murmur before doing the sign of the cross.” The woman twirled the knife between her fingers until the underneath was shown. Scratches that weren’t scratches at all shone in the firelight.
“T C L J?” I murmured, “What does TCLJ mean?”
The woman shrugged. “No one knows. I assume it’s the initials of the crafter, but I can’t be certain. Anyone who would know is already dead.”
I reached out and gently stroked the initials. “Maybe it’s To someone Love someone else?”
“Hmm… Perhaps. Here.” The woman handed me the knife. “You keep it. It may come in handy where you and your Uncle are headed.”
“No! I couldn’t possibly! It’s a family heirloom. You should pass it on to your children, I don’t deserve it,” I protested, trying to hand back the knife.
“I won’t hear of it. My children are grown and my grandchildren uninterested in a bit o’ family magic. You, though, would appreciate it and use it as it’s meant. It’s not meant to be tucked away, but used!”
“Thank you. I’ll take care of it,” I promised, as I gingerly held the knife closer to me.
“Just remember things always have a way of making themselves back to their rightful owners. And I think you were meant to have this knife. Do you have any roots at all leading to North Carolina or the States?”
I shook my head, still transfixed by the initials on the handle. “No ma’am. Not that I know of. Uncle Lamb might know.”
“Claire?” Peeling my eyes away from the knife I looked at Uncle Lamb, who looked like a kid in a candy store. “Come. We need to get going if we want to make it up the mountain and back before dark.”
Following obediently, I said one last thank you to the old woman and pocketed the knife.