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#“And when that day comes I’ll be sure to celebrate that momentous occasion with my kingdom”
itsamenickname · 1 year
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I don’t know if this has been done or not, but one Bowuigi headcanon I’ve thought about and love is the idea of Bowser asking Luigi to teach him some Italian words/phrases because he wants to know Luigi better and just absolutely loves to see Luigi get so excited about teaching him stuff.
Plus, whenever he and Mario have one of their ridiculous, yet really funny, arguments, it’s always fun for Bowser to see the red plumber’s reaction when he learns that Bowser not only actually understood what he said but also made a relevant snarky comeback.
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belovedspector · 5 months
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Leap Year
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Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x gn!reader and Marc Spector x gn!reader)
Word Count: 1.3k
Summary: Jake has never celebrated his birthday. He didn’t even have a birthday, until you urged him to pick a date. Of course, he picks the most chaotic date possible.
Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (honey)
A/N: I was thinking about the fact that it’s a leap year, and this idea sort of just came to me. I don’t have much else to say about it. Enjoy! :)
Masterlist
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“When’s your birthday?” you ask out of the blue one day over dinner.
Jake pauses, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. Carefully, he places the fork back on his plate and says, “Don’t have one.”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
Jake shrugs. “I know Marc’s is March ninth. I didn’t exactly check the calendar on the day I first showed up.”
“What about Steven?” Your food is now totally forgotten.
“Same as me, I guess,” Jake says. He looks into the reflection of his glass, likely listening to one of his alters.
You sit there for a few moments, deep in thought. Finally, you look up at Jake. “Well, then you’ll have to pick one.”
“What?”
“You and Steven should pick your own birthdays.”
Oh, boy. Jake knows that look in your eyes, knows from the way they’re sparkling that there’s no way you’re letting this go.
“Look, I dunno—” he tries.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” you encourage him.
Jake knows there’s no getting out of this. “Fine,” he relents, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually is. Really, he thinks your enthusiasm is adorable, and he’d do just about anything to make you happy.
You cheer. “Great! Do you want me to help you pick a date? I should have some astrology books around here somewhere—”
“Astrology?” Jake scoffs. “I don’t need astrology. I already know what date I want.”
“Oh? Which one?” You lean forward in anticipation.
“February twenty-ninth.” Jake sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“February twenty-ninth?” you repeat. “Why?”
Jake shrugs. “Why not?”
“I don’t know, I—” You sigh. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll put it in my calendar,” you say with a smile. “Now, we just need to find a birthday for Steven.”
“He’s already blabbing on about it.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “I think he’ll take you up on the astrology book offer.”
“Perfect!” you say. He can see the moment you get that faraway look in your eye, no doubt already analyzing which sign would match Steven best.
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Seasons change, time marches on, and Jake completely forgets about the birthday conversation. Sure, Steven had made a big fuss over choosing his own date for a while, but, once that was settled, there was no need to think about the matter anymore.
So, it comes as a shock when, on a random winter day, Steven has called out of work and insisted that Jake take the body. Jake tries to argue, to get Marc on his side, but it’s no use. His alters slip deeper into the headspace, leaving Jake alone for the time being.
He notices you’re already out of bed, and it’s at that moment he hears movement coming from the kitchen. He throws on a t-shirt and sweatpants and gets up to investigate. Sure enough, there you are, singing to yourself as you stand at the stove.
Jake has spent a lifetime creeping in the shadows, so he’s gotten very good at sneaking up on people. Silently, he moves across the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from behind. You startle before laughing and leaning into the touch.
“Good morning, Jake,” you say brightly.
“Morning, honey,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “What’re you doing?”
“Making pancakes.”
Jake perks up at that. “What’s the occasion?”
You laugh. “Don’t you know what today is?”
Jake thinks about it. “March first?” he tries.
“It’s a leap year, silly,” you correct him, “so it’s February twenty-ninth. Happy birthday!”
Oh, right, that.
“You didn’t have to do anything special,” Jake protests.
“Are you kidding? This is the first-ever birthday you’re celebrating. We’ve gotta make it special.”
Jake feels something warm blooming in his chest, a feeling that is occurring more and more often when he spends time with you.
You plate the now-finished pancakes—banana, his favorite—and lead him over to the kitchen table, which has already been set. You dish out the pancakes and pour two glasses of juice before joining Jake at the table.
“Is this why Steven and Marc were being weird this morning?” Jake asks as he cuts into his pancakes.
You chew thoughtfully. “Probably. I swore them to secrecy.”
Jake grunts. “Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Oh, Jake,” you say with a grin, “we’re just getting started.”
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Jake hates drawing attention to himself. It’s the antithesis of his being; at least, it used to be, when he was still keeping himself hidden from his alters and working for Khonshu. Now, even though he can be more present, it still makes him uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. So, being the center of attention, the “birthday boy,”  isn’t really his style.
Of course, you know all this, and you plan the day around it. There will be no impromptu singing of “Happy Birthday” by waiters and random patrons in a restaurant—not on your watch. Instead, you spend a nice, quiet day together, walking around the city like a couple of tourists. It’s a mild day, not nearly as cold as it could be, so you even get to spend some time in the park, one of Jake’s favorite spots to relax.
It’s rare for Jake to get to spend a whole day with you like this. Sure, he and his alters have figured out a pretty fair schedule, but between work and life, it doesn’t always work out. Some days, he only catches glimpses of you in the morning, and come evening you’re so tired that he practically has to carry you to bed.
On the way back to your home, you make a quick stop at a little building with a pink awning. “Lily’s Bakery,” the sign reads in looping cursive. You pop in quickly and return moments later with a matching pink box.
“What’s that?” Jake asks.
“You’ll see,” you say with a glint in your eye.
After you’ve cooked and eaten Jake’s favorite dinner, you bring out the pink box again. You tell Jake to close his eyes, and, with a little eye roll, he complies. There’s some rustling, the sound of a box opening, and the click of a lighter before you say, “Okay, open!”
Jake uncovers his eyes, and he’s shocked by the gasp that leaves him. In front of him is a chocolate chip cookie cake that you’ve added candles to. Blue letters spell out, “Happy Birthday Jake,” and there’s even a little taxi cab drawn with frosting.
“I hope this is okay,” you say quickly. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of cake…”
“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” Jake assures you, blinking back the tears in his eyes.
When you sing “Happy Birthday” to him in the comfort of your home, Marc and Steven join in from the headspace.
“Okay, blow out the candles and make a wish!” you say.
Jake doesn’t need any wishes. He already has everything he could ever want right in front of him.
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“What about next year?” Jake asks as the two of you lay in bed that night.
“What do you mean?” You roll onto your side to face him.
“My birthday next year. Do we skip it?’
“Of course not,” you say. “We’ll just celebrate the day before or after.”
Jake hums.
“Is that okay?” you ask.
If you had asked Jake that a year ago, the answer would have been a flat-out “no.” He hated drawing attention to himself, hated being fussed over. He felt like he didn’t deserve it.
What a difference a year makes, though. Instead, he smiles at you and says, “That sounds nice.”
“Happy birthday, Jake,” you whisper, leaning over to kiss him softly before returning your head to the pillow. “I love you.”
By the time he murmurs back, “I love you, too,” you’re already asleep.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! Also, I have some ideas for follow-ups with Steven picking his birthday, plus celebrating Marc’s birthday, so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! :)
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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months
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Tears and Cake(NSFW)
Kurapika x Fem!Reader
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KURAPIKA!! 💗💗💗
warnings: nsfw, oral(f!receiving), breeding kink, creampie, pregnancy
taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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Since the massacre, Kurapika has spent his birthdays alone and in silence. Sometimes he’d get himself a little treat to celebrate the special occasions, but most of the time his birthday would pass by without him even noticing.
That was, until he met you.
The two of you had met up for some coffee and snacks while he was in town, and the topic of birthdays came up.
“Yeah, my birthday is actually next month!” you said, watching his eyes widen slightly.
“Really? I’ll have to send you a gift. I’ll be busy, but I promise I’ll come to celebrate with you when I’m able.”
“That’s okay. And yours?”
Kurapika blinked, looking at you. “My what?”
“Your birthday. I told you mine, what about yours?”
For a moment, he considered whether he should tell you or not. It wasn’t a day he liked talking about… not anymore.
But the way you looked at him, as if you were already planning something made his heart twist. It was important to you, so it would be important to him.
“It’s… April 4th.”
“Oh, so 4/4? That’s pretty cool!”
And that was that. The topic changed to something business related, and when the two of you were full of coffee and baked goods, you parted so he could go and get some work done.
‘Now, it’s time to plan his birthday…’
———————
Kurapika was swamped at with work lately, juggling being a bodyguard while also trying to find information on the Phantom Troupe and possible locations of the scarlet eyes.
The days were blending together, and he struggled to remember what day of the week it was most days, much less what day of the month it was.
So when you called him up asking if he’d be free that weekend, he cleared his schedule for a much needed break.
After all, you were really the only person he made time for these days. The two of you had been dating for about a year now. He always felt a bit bad about not spending enough time with you. You never asked for much though, and with how excited you were over the phone, how could he say no?
That didn’t mean he was super excited. Kurapika was exhausted, both physically and mentally drained. He slept nearly the entire train ride to your hometown, and was still tired when he hailed a taxi to your place.
By the time he got there, the sun was setting, casting your apartment in an orange glow. The stairs up to your apartment door felt so familiar. He’d walked up the flight a hundred times, usually carrying chocolates or flowers to make up for his long absences.
And now he was at your doorstep, knocking with one hand while carrying a plush in the other. He had found the thing in his travels, something he knew you liked to collect. Kurapika couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on your face when you saw he had found the exact one you had been looking for.
When you opened the door, he sighed in contentment. Just getting to see you in person already put his mind at ease. Every second he was away from you, Kurapika worried over you and your safety. After all, there were a lot of people out for Kurapika’s head. It made sense that you would have a target on your back due to this, which was why you were occasionally visited by his close friends for wellness checks.
He adore you endlessly, it was evident in the way he melted the second your eyes lit up at both him and the plush in his arms. “Oh, you found it! Eeek!”
You grabbed it from his arm, squealing in delight and spinning in a circle. “I love it, thank you so much, Pika!”
Kurapika walked in after you cracked the door open a bit, his eyes soft. It smelled sweet, like vanilla and cinnamon. A bouquet of flowers sat on the kitchen table, and he blushed to think you may have picked them up for his visit.
“It was no trouble, love. I’m happy whenever you’re happy.”
Your cheeks heated up, and you couldn’t help but lean against him, wanting his attention. “Mmph… missed you so much, Pika…”
His own cheeks turned a pale pink as he wrapped his arms around you, his lips placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Missed you too, angel. More than you could ever know.”
Kurapika knew that even you, someone who was more patient and kind than anyone he knew could get lonely sometimes. The guilt of being away from you more often than by your side ate away at him, and sometimes he wondered if being with someone who could give you more attention might be better for you in the long run.
But as you led him to the kitchen, unable to keep the excited smile off your face, he realized how much you truly loved him, and that the prospect of you loving another would never come true.
On the table was a small chocolate cake, with strawberries and candles placed neatly on the top. Sitting nearby were a few presents, and another bouquet of flowers too.
“Happy birthday, Kurapika!”
For a moment, Kurapika was in shock. He’d been so busy that he hadn’t even remembered that his birthday was that weekend. But you had, and his heart thumped against his chest with love and affection for you.
“Kurapika… are you alright?”
He didn’t realize he had started to cry until your gentle hands were wiping away his tears. He blinked, his expression shifting to one of devotion and gratitude.
“Oh, my angel… this is all for me?”
You nodded, smiling as you sat him down in front of his cake. He blushed when you took out your phone and pressed record. Kurapika usually didn’t like being on camera, but with you it was different. He knew you just wanted to capture the moment to look back on later… and he loved that about you.
As you sang happy birthday to him, Kurapika knew that one day, you would be his wife. He thought he had been sure before, but now it was all clear to him.
For a while before you met, his future was blank for him. He didn’t plan anything, knowing there was a possibility he could die attempting to complete his mission.
But with you… he could almost picture your wedding day. Him in traditional Kurta attire, and you in a white gown. It was so clear, he could imagine the day the two of you hunched over a pregnancy test, and him pulling you in for a kiss when it was positive.
When he blew out the candles, Kurapika could only think of one wish he would ever want to come true.
‘I want to stay with (Name) forever…’
“Made your wish?” you asked, giving his cheek a kiss. The blonde smiled, sighing contentedly as he leaned into your touch.
“Mhm… I did.”
The presents were all wonderful, ranging from a scarf you knitted yourself, to a pair of ruby earrings that matched his eyes. Each item was tucked carefully away into his satchel, where he promised to the gods above that he would give back to you tenfold.
This love, this adoration was almost overwhelming, and as you smiled at him in bed, he couldn’t help but act out his feelings by pulling you closer.
“I want you…” he said softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “It’s been too long since I’ve pleased you. Please, my angel… let me make you feel good.”
Your cheeks heated up, and you pouted just a little. “B-but it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be pleasing you?”
He chuckled, moving to hover above you. “My love, making you cum pleases me more than anything else.”
“O-oh…” you couldn’t protest one bit as he removed your pajama pants, giving your lacy panties a soft smirk.
“It’s like you planned for this, (Name). Aren’t these the panties I bought for last week?”
You nodded, trying to hide your flustered face. “I was… hoping we would… be intimate tonight.”
Kurapika felt bad for just a moment… he had only thought about how much he had been craving you… but how about the longing you felt? How long had his little angel been waiting for him to make love to her? It had been at least two months…
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should be taking better care of you…”
He gave a soft lick to the wet spot already forming on your panties, groaning at the taste of your arousal on his tongue. “Need it…”
Your panties were off in a second, and his face was buried between your thighs. It felt amazing, and you were cumming within a minute. His tongue circling your clit, his fingers thrusting into your needy cunt was too much for you to take, especially after going without for so long.
“P-Pika!”
The little pants and moans that left your mouth when you came were enough to get his cock rock hard, painfully pressing against his pants. He was quick to tug off his pants and boxers, desperate to be inside of your warm cunt.
“F-fuck, (Name)… so sorry, angel, need you so bad.”
Usually, Kurapika spent a lot more time between your legs, often leaving your thighs shaking from overstimulation… but today he was too needy.
He snapped his hips against yours, sinking into you until he was buried to the hilt. The whine you let out as your pussy clenched around him was enough to have him rutting into you like an animal.
Kurapika was usually such a gentle lover, but something had snapped inside of him tonight. He needed you like a man dying of thirst needed water. You weren’t just part of his life, you were essential.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to cum together, considering how long you both had gone without another. He kissed you as his cum painted your walls, softly moving his hips as he came down from his high.
You were both exhausted after, but completely happy and satisfied at the same time. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little when you yawned, nuzzling your face against his chest.
“My sleepy girl…”
He placed a kiss on your forehead before he carried you to the bathroom for a quick bath. If Kurapika was good at anything, it was aftercare. He always made you feel appreciated and beautiful, his hands cleaning away the sweat and cum from your body as you sleepily clung to him.
When he wrapped a fluffy towel around you, gently drying you off, you couldn’t help but smile.
“Got… one last present for you, Pika…”
He tilted his head. “Another? But you’ve already given me so much, I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
You smiled, reaching into the drawer by your bed. “Oh, it’s something you’ve been wanting for a while.”
After he helped dress you in comfy, warm pajamas, he yawned, taking the box from your hands. “Open it…”
Kurapika couldn’t believe his eyes. He had to look several times, the usual brown shade turning scarlet as tears fell down his cheeks.
“You’re… pregnant?”
Inside the box was a pregnancy test with two lines showing. You nodded, giggling in delight when he pulled you into his arms.
Kurapika sobbed, unable to stop himself from crying as you rubbed his back. “My angel… oh my love, you’re carrying our baby?”
“Yes… I found out a few weeks ago. It’s been hard hiding it, but I thought revealing it today would be more special-“
He covered your face and neck in kisses, kneeling before you so he could lift your shirt. It was like a devoted believer kneeling before their goddess in prayer, his lips soft on your belly.
The future that he had been looking forward to was already here… his girlfriend was pregnant, they were in love, and now he could only think of one thing.
“Marry me, (Name).”
And you said yes, your own eyes filling with tears as you embraced. He didn’t have a ring now, but by god he would get you the best one there was as soon as possible. You would get everything you wanted, he was devoted to you, body and soul.
As the two of you fell asleep that night, Kurapika felt grateful, and so goddamn happy. He had so many things to look forward to, so many reasons to keep living when he thought he would never even make it into his 20s.
But today, he was 21, engaged, and a father to be.
This was the best birthday of his life… and he would never forget it as long as he lived.
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archiveikemen · 5 months
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Jude Jazza 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2023)
His POV
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
❥・• Warnings and FAQ
Ellis: Jude, this is…
I had just returned to the castle after work when my assistant handed me a memo with an usually serious look on his face.
“Happy birthday, I have your woman with me.”
Jude: — Ah?
— A few hours ago.
Kate: Is it your birthday today?
Kate asked the moment she saw my face. Who knows where she got that information from.
(What a nuisance.)
Knowing what was going to happen, I ignored the question and left my seat.
I had just finished my breakfast, and it was time for me to leave for work.
Kate: I just happened to find out earlier on. Is there anything in particular that you need or want?
Jude: I don’t know, you can go ahead and sing a song or something. Oh, but do it when I’m not around.
Kate: Won’t that be meaningless?
Jude: Do I have to spell it out for you? I don’t need anything.
Kate had become significantly less wary of me, compared to when we first met. I dealt with her and put on my coat.
Kate: Are you going to work? It’s your birthday, after all.
Jude: Will it kill you to not keep asking questions day and night?
Victor: Oh? You’re working on your birthday again this year, Jude?
Victor: Make sure to come back in the evening this year. We’ll be waiting to throw a party for you.
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Jude: More like a party for you. Last year and the year before, you threw a party even though I wasn't there.
Victor: Every year, I would wait for you to come back, until the day ended… *sniffle*
Roger: Let’s all get drunk and sing a loud “happy birthday” song in the garden.
Jude: Oi. Don’t put your arm over my shoulder, you quack.
Roger: I hope that this year’s party won’t be missing its main character.
(Tch… all the fucking annoying ones are gathered here since morning.)
Jude: I don’t have the culture of celebrating every little occasion. It’s sickening.
I brushed his arm off my shoulders and was about to finally leave the dining room.
Kate: Oh, Jude, is there anything you want…?
(Did I not say that I don’t need anything?)
Kate: I’ll really sing you a song later! Please don’t complain that it’s too ‘insignificant’!
Walking away from that persistent voice that carried a hint of resignation, I left the castle that morning.
(So this is the place.)
Instead of begging for their lives to be spared, those bastards who sent me that memo spat out all the information they had.
True enough, there Kate was— dolled up and lying unconscious at the altar, she appeared to have gotten herself ready for tonight’s ‘party’.
(... There’s this revolting feeling in my chest.)
The people who had taken Kate hostage seemed to have something against me.
It was either they were blaming me for their business going bankrupt, or it was just the usual petty grudges.
Kate only got implicated into this because of mine or Crown’s missions. It wasn’t the first time such a thing happened.
And yet, for some reason, I felt especially irritated this time.
(Crown forced a contract onto a woman who was coincidentally present at the scene of an assassination.)
(The Queen insisted that this woman go on our missions with us, despite knowing what dangerous situations she could possibly wind up in.)
(Even after having her life threatened on countless occasions, this woman still refuses to back down.)
(I myself have tested the sheer willpower and guts she had to keep following me around.)
— All of that disgusted me.
(Where’s the ‘happy’ in ‘happy birthday’?)
(Shit.)
Jude: … Oi, you pleb. Are you dead?
I spoke as I stood there, staring down at Kate.
With a groan, Kate stirred and turned to lay on her back.
The hair covering her face spilled onto the floor — revealing her swollen cheek and bloodied lips.
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(...)
Something in the core of my mind turned cold.
Kate: … Jude…?
Jude: … What with that hideous appearance? This isn’t funny at all.
Kate: I’m… I’m sorry. I wanted to get you a birthday present, and when I went out to town after seeking permission…
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Jude: Screw your apology and how you got captured. I’m asking how you got your face injured.
Kate: They threatened me for information about you, and when I refused to disclose any—
Jude: You could’ve just made some shit up about me.
Kate: I… I can’t do that. You’re always coming to my rescue before I get hurt. I can’t put you in danger because of me.
The response that was so typical of her only made me even more fed up.
(Ah… this woman is hopeless.)
(If I let her keep this up, she will really end up dead one day.)
In the first place, she was only in danger because of the selfish contract Crown forced onto her.
While I had the right to give Kate a piece of my mind, there wasn’t a need for her to feel any obligation towards me.
(I failed to see that.)
She was thick-skinned enough to still spout those pretty words at me, had a strong heart that became enraged upon being looked down on, and was stubborn enough to stand her ground even after being hurt.
I was self-aware that I didn’t hate those traits of hers.
(But… no one can laugh when their birthday present is the dead body of a woman who was innocently dragged into a mess she didn’t create, even as a prank.)
Jude: You seem to have quite a lot of trust in me, however—
Kate: … ggh?
Kate’s body stiffened when I placed my hand on her neck.
Jude: Do you seriously believe that I won’t ever let anyone kill you, or that I’ll always protect you no matter what?
Kate: ugh… haa…
(Oh, you poor thing.)
(You think that you can finally be at ease after being so terrified just now, huh?)
(But you’re wrong. Shall I teach you a little lesson?)
Jude: You haven’t experienced being strangled to the point of losing consciousness, have you?
Jude: I can make that happen, all I have to do is tighten my grip on your throat for about one minute.
I slowly tightened my grip, putting pressure on her pulsating carotid artery.
Kate: ahh… ugh…!
I pinned her struggling body to the floor of the altar.
Light shined in through the stained glass windows onto her hair and skin, making the scene look almost comical.
Jude: You never expected yourself to be strangled by the ally who just rescued you, did you?
Jude: But killing an ally who’s being an eyesore in the heat of the moment is so cliché.
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Jude: You’re just a pleb who knows nothing, and yet you tried to go against those low-lifes with that stupid sense of duty of yours.
Jude: You’re a hundred years too early to do that.
Kate: —!
I felt a slight pain in the back of my hand and looked down to see Kate digging her nails into it.
Jude: Hah, look at you trying to fight back. You make me laugh. Even a little kitten can be stronger than you.
Kate: …!
(... What’s with that look?)
Despite the clear difference in strength between the two of us, the resilient look in her eyes never faded.
She was glaring straight at me, as if urging me for something.
Jude: … At this juncture, what is it that you want to say?
I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of things she would say—
The moment I loosened my grip, Kate forcefully shook my hand off.
Kate: Huff… huff…
Jude: … I’m not asking you to start huffing and puffing. I’m asking what you were glaring at me for.
Jude: I’ll go on if you can’t answer.
Kate: I… I…
Kate glared at me with tears in her eyes while desperately trying to catch her breath.
Kate: I’ve experienced horrible things like today’s incident many times, I’ve also witnessed multiple cruel acts; and every time, I would see you enjoying yourself…
Kate: I know very well that you’re a sadist with sick and twisted interests, a villain who finds joy in hearing the screams of other people.
Jude: You don’t say?
Kate: But I believe that deep down, you’re not heartless…
Kate: You may threaten and torment me like this often, and yet when you see that I’m about to die, you do whatever you can to save me.
Jude: You fantasise about me too much.
Kate: Then why do you always look upset whenever I go on missions with you?
Jude: Because you get in my way.
Kate: What are you trying to accomplish by ridiculing me for being soft-hearted?
Jude: That you're so happy-go-lucky that it's an eyesore and a hindrance.
Kate: ... Really?
Despite my harsh words, her eyes remained focused on me.
Kate: ... You show no mercy to people who are arrogant and take human lives lightly.
Kate: ... But looking at it from a different perspective, you save those who have been tyrannised by them.
Jude: The main point is that I enjoy tormenting those bastards. I couldn't care less about who gets saved.
Kate: Whatever your reason may be, doesn't the result remain the same? And that's why I trust you.
Jude: ... Hah, what are you talking about? Sounds stupid as hell.
Kate: But at the same time, I also get that you're not helping me because I value my life.
Kate: That's why, like what you said earlier…
Kate: I don't think that you'll 'always protect me no matter what'.
Her voice trembled with a tinge of loneliness for a moment.
Even Kate herself seemed to be surprised by what she just said and her eyes shifted.
She lifted her head, trying to cover it up.
Kate: What I want to say is that...
Kate: Even if I'll end up being strangled until I lose consciousness, it won't change the way I choose to act.
Kate: If I do get myself captured and threatened again, I won't say a single thing that would put you at a disadvantage.
Kate: That's all I have to say. If you want to go on with what you were doing... be my guest, do as you please.
(A person's life can be so fragile.)
(Trust is useless when you're faced with evil and murderous intentions.)
Some things can't be prevented, no matter how hard you try.
(That fact is more than clear to me.)
But even so, why was I dazzled by her unwavering determination to keep her trust?
Jude: ... I can do as I please?
Kate: ...!
Her shoulders shuddered when I placed my hand on her neck—
Jude: Pfft.
Kate: ...?
(Putting on a brave front when you're actually feeling afraid. Truly idiotic.)
I withdrew my hand from her neck.
Jude: Just as you said, that was a threat.
Jude: However... it's not hard to snap your neck off. Besides, the kind of people I deal with won't be so kind as to hesitate and warn you.
Jude: If you're aware that I'm keeping you at a distance on purpose, then you should know what to do if you're smart enough.
Kate: I thought of avoiding getting myself involved, but…
Jude: But?
Kate: That thinking changed after I noticed various things every time we complete a mission or run away from trouble together.
Kate: And I don't hate that change in myself.
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(...)
Kate: Although being captured this time was entirely unintentional... look, I managed to snatch the identification document of the person who captured me.
Kate: If it was you they were after, then they must belong to some sort of organisation, right?
Kate: The ones who captured me were likely someone's subordinates... so perhaps this might serve as a lead to the mastermind behind this.
(... Geez.)
(This girl is truly a bold princess.)
Jude: Don't get too proud of yourself over such a tiny thing. You're like a dog playing fetch.
I took the ID and helped Kate up.
She then exclaimed, as if she suddenly recalled something.
Kate: Oh, right! There's something very important that I forgot to tell you.
Jude: Ah?
Kate: The day isn't over yet, right...?
Kate: Although I didn't manage to get you a present in the end... happy birthday, Jude.
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Jude: …
The innocent and pure blessing fell onto my heart with a thud.
(You went through all that, and yet you can still bring yourself to say something so optimistic.)
(Aren't you going to say things like it's all your fault, or that you're no longer in the mood to celebrate?)
All sorts of insults came into my mind, but none of them came out of my mouth.
Nevertheless, the blessing remained warm in my heart, the same way she gave it to me.
Kate: A birthday song is all I can give you... but you don't need that.
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Jude: ...
I detested the 'happy birthday' song.
It brought back memories of a dusty attic that reeked of mould and alcohol; I recalled the hoarse voices of 2 people who kept singing while coughing violently, disregarding my protests.
7 years had passed since then, my vengeance should've been long gone.
Yet every time I recalled that raspy voice singing the 'happy birthday' song, the hatred ingrained in me craved to hear the screams of its prey.
But, right now—
Jude: Fine, you can sing. I'm listening.
Kate: Eh? But... you said that you don't have the culture of celebrating every small occasion.
Jude: I changed my mind. I still don't care about the others, though.
Jude: Just yours is enough.
Kate: ... Huh?
Kate's eyes widened for a moment before her cheeks turned bright red.
Kate: H-Huh...?
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Jude: ... Heh, what are you blushing about? You simple minded woman.
Kate: Wha... d-did you just tease me again!?
Jude: Who knows? It's obvious that you're very fond of me, though.
Kate: WHAT!? I am not...!
Jude: Yeah, yeah. So, are you going to sing or not?
Kate: ...!!
After being at a loss for words for a brief moment, Kate started to sing.
Her voice was too soft to echo through the church, but it lingered in my ears longer than any other blessing I had ever received.
Birthday Letter
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chrollohearttags · 7 months
Text
kinktoberfest • reiner braun
show: attack on titan
kink: foot play
word count: 2.0K
content + themes: foot job, toe sucking, perv reiner, football player rei, tit fucking, mutual masturbation, cumshot
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :── ・ 。゚☆: *.
if he had seen one, he’d seen them all…tall, short, dark and bright, cute and ugly…suede and leather? Some would assume that he was referring to the types of women he had come across in his lifetime but that was the furthest thing from. Especially at the moment..as he sat in the shared master bedroom of the two story mansion you called home. Releasing heavy sighs whilst watching you toss out this pair of Manolos and that pair of Louboutins behind you from the massive walk in closet. To say he was growing weary would be an understatement. He had been there for what felt like hours, watching you try on a plethora of shoes and dresses. It was rather daunting but for his beloved wife? He’d do practically anything!
“Rei!” “Yes, sugar? What is it?” “What do you think of these?”
Reiner Braun: five time Heisman winner, all star quarterback and world famous football star..dwindled down to glorified styling assistant as his wife, (y/n) tried on what had to be the fiftieth pair you’d come across. The occasion? An upcoming charity banquet hosted by a bunch of celebrities and Reiner happened to be one of the guests. In truth, he couldn’t wait for it to be over so all of this could cease. “They look good, poundcake. I like them.” However, there was a bit of a positive to this whole ordeal..you looked stunning in those shoes. Something about watching you strut about in those stilettos was..rather sexy. He’d never admit it, out of fear of sounding like an absolute freak but he’d love nothing more than to have you pressing that heel to the center of his chest or have it dangling over his shoulders right now. Just then, you’d take a seat in front of him, plopping down in the chair. Keeling over in frustration..
“What’s the matter? They all look great. No need to be upset, sugar.”
“I know and that’s the problem. I’m never going to be able to find the perfect pair.”
folding your arms and releasing a heavy winded sigh, (y/n) tossed your head back and glared up at the ceiling. You were so incredibly frustrated but in his eyes? You were making a fuss about nothing! What was the big deal anyways? You’d be wearing a long gown that was certain to have all eyes on you regardless so why would they matter? “For God sakes, babe. It’s just a pair of shoes. What could be so important?” However, if only he knew..he would’ve kept his damn mouth shut and not asked that! Rising straight back up, Reiner was met with a rather cross glare. See, being the star..he never had to worry about those sorts of things. All eyes would be on him regardless and everyone would love him either way. It was the wife who’d be nitpicked apart for every little detail. It didn’t help the fact that you didn’t exactly look like the rest of the stereotypical trophy spouses either so they’d be grasping at straws by now. “Are you kidding? I wear something out of style or the wrong color and they’ll grill my ass. One wrong outfit and I’ll be labeled as the girl who can’t dress.”
honestly, he thought it was hilarious! Making all of this fuss about this when your entire closet costs more than most people’s rent. Besides, you had impeccable taste. Even so, he’d never be able to convince you otherwise. So rather than listening to you bellyache and gripe about absolutely nothing of importance, Reiner simply dredged your legs up to his laps and placed your feet in the center of it. In one fell swoop, he’d drag the plush chair towards him and bridge the gap between you. “You wanna know what I think? I think that you need a break..” “b-but!—“ “But nothing, sugar. We still have four days. I’m sure you can find something then. If not, go buy a new one. Hell, go buy fifty if it’ll make you happy. But stop worrying that pretty little head of yours, okay?” It was so like him..so typical of this man to talk you off of the deep end when you were freaking out. Whilst you were in the middle of your rant, he was discreetly removing that current pair and massaging your rather sore soles instead. Trying on twenty plus pairs consecutively would make anyone’s feet hurt. Although, that wasn’t his entire reason. There was a bit of underlying selfishness to it as well..
“You’re right, papa. I’m sorry..it’s not that serious.” Chuckling to himself, Reiner continued kneading his fingers into your flesh, trying to relax those tendons. As he did so, he’d also bring your ankle and instep to his lips and place soft pecks on both. “That’s my girl..” but he didn’t stop there..he couldn’t even if he wanted to. And you didn’t exactly want him to either. On top of those long legs being accessorized with those cute shoes, you were sporting nothing more than a tiny lace teddy and to his surprise…with no panties on either; catching faint glimpses of that unsheathed little slit. Just then, a light grunt would arise from his throat as your legs parted slightly once again. Especially when he heard a whimper leave your throat as well.. “..that actually feels really good.” You most certainly needed it with the way they had been feeling. He’d press his fingertips into the curvature of your foot, wrinkle your toes and even rub up to your calves. The two of you sat there with the bridge between your bodies growing much smaller. His stubble grazing your skin and that gold anklet with his name engraved on it. By now, he had practically spread you open without you so much as even realizing and to your shock..
“..I can tell.” It was so blatantly obvious by the coat of slick on your mound and protruding clit. He would like to think you chose this particular attire on purpose but either way, he wasn’t mad..not in the slightest. The funniest part was that you didn’t try to deny it. Maybe you were equally as perverse as he was but you didn’t go get those expensive pedicures every other week and get those cute little toenails doused in white just for show…you got them done so your husband could have them in his mouth while he deep stroked you later that night! With deviant glares shrouding both of your faces, Reiner continued his onslaught of tender kissing of your ankles and toes, even flicking his tongue across them whilst looking directly into your eyes. He was intent, focused and determined to get you loosened up, which seemed to be working by the looks of it. Just that quick, you had managed to get him equally aroused; spotting an unmistakable bulge in his gray sweatpants. His shirtless torso showing off those impeccable abs. Cradling your foot with one hand, akin to the way he’d done those footballs previously, he began lacing them with sloppy pecks before placing them in his mouth and suckling. The glare in those beautiful brown eyes of yours told it all:
“…shit..Rei.” Causing you to squirm in your seat, attempting to feign off those pangs of pleasure but all you’d end up doing was rutting yourself against the cushion..furthering your desire. But just as you did so, you’d feel that imprint underneath your opposite foot grow larger, practically swelling. When he had a woman this beautiful, it took next to nothing for his dick to get hard. Especially when you were into the same taboo quirks he was.. “..play with yourself.” Muttering in that grovely tone. Only repeating it as he glided his tongue up the side of your instep and nibbled at your ankle once more. “Play with that pussy f’r me. And don’t take that foot off of me either. Keep it right there.” Absolute in what he said, you’d follow his command; slowly removing your breasts from the top of that ensemble and lifting the bottom portion to expose your heat to the cool air. Those nipples were super erect and that cunt was dripping. Kneading your fingers into those round, juicy tits..(y/n) brought them up to your mouth and began suckling those stuff buds whilst rubbing on your clit. He could hear that slick being drummed up and it sent your husband into a tailspin. He was so horny right now, it made no sense. It was taking all of his restraint to not put you on this floor, pin you down and drill your shit right here. But alas, this was a little more fun. The constant teasing, the subtle foreplay and mutual freakiness between you two. Who else would be into something like this? Massaging those fingertips over your parted plumpness, you’d toss your head back; titties swaying as you impaled yourself on those digits..bouncing up and down on them, hoping to have them replaced with his thick cock soon. For now, you’d allow him to continue savoring your toes and enjoying his rather peculiar and taboo fetish; pedaling the opposite foot against his hard on. Grunting and moaning, Reiner promptly shuffled that elastic waistband down until his entire erect sprang forth. It was swollen..all eight and a half inches standing at attention and seeping with precum; apparent by the formed stain on his pants. That mushroom tip beaming red and ready to use something to relieve that pressure. He’d immediately wrap that palm around his shaft and begin stroking. Softly shuffling it up and down from the base to the tip; smacking those full balls in the process. He shouldn’t have been this aroused by your feet of all things but his infatuation with you ran throughout the entire body. That was the effect you had on him. You’d continue bringing yourselves to the edge. “Fuck..got me so hard right now, sugar. I don’t know what to do..look what you did to me.” That mischievous chuckle and grin returned as he watched you grinding on those digits, wishing they were the real thing. The power you held over him was insurmountable. Still working yourself over, you’d giggle as well, whining so helplessly.
“Fuck..get on your knees, baby. Get on your fucking knees..”
hissing through gritted teeth as he ushered you to the ground. Reluctantly removing your toes from his mouth. With those breasts still unclothed, Reiner positioned you before him; resembling an obedient little slut, he’d impatiently grope your tits..maneuvering until his cock was nestled between them and he’d make haste in fucking them. Bucking his hips forward, Reiner growled whilst using your flesh to his satisfaction. Pumping himself through the tight confines of those squeezed breasts. Utilizing his own precum as lubricant to make it easier to push through the tightly formed orifice. To say your husband was losing his mind may have been a gross understatement. After working himself over, you’d notice that his breath was beginning to falter and his strokes became uneven..a sure fire signal that he was growing closer. It wouldn’t be long before he began to twitch. You’d press your hands to the sides of your chest, closing the gap and making it more compact..thus prompting him to come..
“Nut on them, baby. Go ahead, let it out.” Even extending your tongue and closing your eyes to prepare for it. Only seconds later did you feel him come to a halt and hear a loud grunt leave his throat. It was then that you’d feel the damp warmth splattering all over your tongue, face and tits; painting you with every droplet of his cum. Grasping your chin, Reiner then placed a gentle kiss atop your forehead, amid the laughter that followed from the two of you.
“That was fun.”
“Yes it was..thank you sugar.” Swiping the remnants from your eyes. It hadn’t even dawned on either of you that you had just gotten off in the most strange of ways. But it could be your dirty little secret..no one had to know.
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jayjj7 · 5 months
Text
chapter 24. party!!
prev. next masterlist
a/n : merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays!! (there will be a newjeans danielle smau series coming out as soon as this series ends😚😚)
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the anticipation of the day of the party had arrived. you, hanni, haerin, danielle, minji, and especially hyein thought it would be a good idea to invite yunjin to get ready with you. you agreed but to your luck hanni and haerin would not leave the dorm no matter what type of food, promise, or object you bribed them with.
“haerin please i’ll let you have all the cookies me and yunjin made” you were practically begging on your hands and knees.
“really?” haerin almost sounded convinced as she jumped up and widened her eyes.
“no, bad trade.” hanni just had to step in
minji and danielle were getting ready in their own dorm and agreed to not have hanni and haerin over. all you could do was hope and pray that your friends didn’t act out while yunjin was over.
haerin was asking you for help on an outfit in the mean time, waiting for yunjin to arrive.
“the blue one? or the green? i feel like the blue one is too-“
a knock at the door makes you and haerin halt the conversation and turn to the door. she nudges you to answer the door and you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, yunjin is here.
“hey!” yunjin smiles and hugs you after you open the door. haerin and hanni stand there awkwardly, holding outfits in their hands, not knowing how to introduce themselves.
once the hug breaks you shoot her a smile before turning to your friends standing very…interestingly to say the least.
“yunjin this is hanni and haerin, guys this is yunjin” you scrunch your face facing your friends as you couldn’t bare the awkwardness.
“nice to meet you guys” yunjin waves and moves a strand of hair out of her face.
your two friends wave and mumble a response but are cut off by you.
“okay we’ll be in my room let us know when you guys are ready” you call out rather quickly and pull yunjin by her wrist into your room before hanni and haerin are don’t saying hello.
“what’s the rush?” yunjin laughs as soon as you close the door behind you.
“never mind that, can i see what you’re gonna wear?” you shake your head. confused yunjin laughs again and reaches into a bag she brought over, carrying her clothes and makeup.
“look at this! isn’t it so cute?” yunjin pulls out a small green top and green shorts, both sparkly and eye catching.
“that is so cute oh my god!” you walk up to her and touch the material. imagining her in them makes your heart flutter but also makes you feel nervous knowing other people will see her wearing it. you swat away those thoughts when yunjin asks you a question:
“can i see what you’re gonna wear?” her sweet voice has you melting and you lean back and smile at her.
“yes let me go change!” you walk into the bathroom and put on the outfit you bought a while ago but never seemed to find an occasion to wear it, except for today. after a couple minutes you walk back into your room.
“what do you think? is it too much?” you rest your hands at your hips.
“uhh no no it looks great!” yunjin stutters, the redness on her face and nervousness is unlike her.
“are you sure?” unsure by yunjins tone of voice, you make your way to your mirror and look at yourself adjusting your outfit. you hear yunjin get off of your bed and make her way behind you.
“y/n, you look stunning…really” she assured in a serious tone. you can feel your face get hot, yunjin looks at you through the mirror as she fixes the strap of your top, fixing it’s sloppy placement.
“you look really pretty” yunjin admits as you turn around to face her, only a couple inches away from each other. she looks so pretty up close, the way her eyes look into yours then to your lips.
“you think so?”
“of course i do”
the intimate moment you two shared was cut short due to hanni’s loud laugh protruding from the other room. you clear your throat, being brought back to reality as you break eye contact with yunjin and change the subject.
“let’s do our makeup yeah?”
as yunjin grabs her bag, you both make your way to the shared bathroom and you sit on the sink. yunjin was pretty tall, taller than you, so sitting on the sink gave you a new perspective of being way taller than her. you did your makeup sitting on the sink while sharing the big mirror.
“how many people do you think will be there?” yunjins asks as she applies foundation on her face.
“i don’t know, full house maybe?” you swing your legs as you so your makeup, every once in a while you switching your attention to yunjin.
you two make conversation ranging from what to expect at the party, how much will you guys be drinking, to old memories. as yunjin laughs she smudges her lipstick, too distracted by putting her makeup away.
“wait you smudged it” you interrupt yunjins story and tilt her head towards you and rub off the smudged lipstick before applying it for her.
while holding her face you can feel her face heat up. as her eyes stare at you, you lose your train of thought and smudge the lipstick again.
this was too much for yunjin, the tension in the room was so thick she couldn’t bare it any longer. so, she decided to take her chances and risked it all.
“shit hold on-“ as you were about to grab a makeup wipe yunjin interrupts you by gently tilting your face towards hers, pulling you in for a kiss.
her lips on yours feels just right. the way they hug against yours, yunjins hand on the side of your face, your hand which was originally reaching for a makeup wipe, was now traveling to her sides. this is what you have been waiting for, the kiss is gentle and sweet, it was perfect but before you could continue, the bathroom door opens.
“shit sorry!-“ hanni gasps and panics then runs back to haerin in the other room.
you and yunjin share a panicked, awkward look before you get off the bathroom sink.
“i’ll uh…wait outside” you avoid eye contact and walk out the bathroom.
“oh um yeah i wont take…long” yunjin stutters shutting her eyes in embarrassment.
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taglist : [ @1luvkarina @thefckghost @everydayiloveyves @may-madness @modanisgf @mushroom-main ] (taglist is open!!)
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evilvvithin · 1 year
Text
76 kiss prompts ft. König ⇨ #2 “Kiss on the forehead"
⇨ prompt masterlist
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didn't sleep for 2 days and i'm horny and all i want is to tease könig till he just hnnnnnnng you know. Warnings for big tease (you tease him without even knowing and then on purpose), grinding, obsessive & protective König. Alcohol mentions. Reader is female.
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“It's an important moment in the life of my friend. König, please.” 
He only growled annoyingly under his nose in reply and kept staring into his phone. Pubs and drunk people really weren’t his thing, you knew that. You disliked drunks yourself. None of you had anything against having a drink there and there, but getting black-out drunk was disgusting to you both. If you could, you’d stay home with König and just have a lovely, calm evening with maybe a little bit of Schnapps and a home-cooked dinner. Moving to the bedroom, you went through your clothes till you found the beautiful black dress you bought just yesterday, especially for this occasion. Can’t just come to a friend's engagement celebration in jeans and a hoodie, can I? 
“I’ll excuse you then,” you said and grabbed your bag, ready to leave.
König raised his eyes from the phone, widening them as soon as he saw you.
“You are going in that?” His finger pointed at you. 
“Uhm… yes, I am?” 
Mein Gott, he shouted inside his head. She’s insane.
“Why? Don’t like it?”
“No, I mean-” he coughed and got up quickly, grabbing his jacket. “It’s perfect, too perfect.” Seeing your eyebrows raise at his sudden change of mind, he continued: “I’m going with you, there’s no way you are going out alone in that.” 
Not letting anyone even touch you, and I’m telling you they would love that if they saw you, Schatz. Du bist schön, he continued but only in his mind. Damn, too beautiful. His jaw clenched at the sight of your naked shoulders and collarbones, framed by thin black straps of the dress. Your collarbones, he loved them. Offering you to carry the bag, both of you entered the darkness outside to meet your friends.
~~
Everything around you was loud. Your head was starting to be dizzy from all the noise and you started to check the clocks more often. 
“Can’t believe you got him out with you!” Your friend shouted at you.
Not wanting to yell back across the table as suddenly everyone started to cheer and pick up their glasses, you just nodded towards your friend to acknowledge what she said. You had a feeling you knew why König went with you, but you wanted to believe that he coud maybe learn to enjoy going out a little bit. Glaring at him, he was sitting at the other side of the table where he had enough personal space around him as people were mostly grouping at your friend’s feet. He had the same look on his face as when he was focusing on his target throughout the sniper scope, but this time he was giving this face to a guy sitting next to you. 
“One more look at the top of her dress… one more inch closer to her…” König was whispering to himself slowly, not letting his eyes off of the man. 
You’d lie if you said you didn’t like this about him. You really felt like you were his, even though he kept telling you he is yours, and he had your back all the time, be it danger or  random drunk. He never admitted he’d be overprotective or possessive, “I’m just making sure you are safe” was always his reply. 
Your smile was paused by the sudden smell of cigarettes and cheap whiskey coming from the guy next to you. Your nose wrinkled and you covered your mouth. Was he even one of your friend’s friends? You never saw him before, but afterall you didn’t know everyone of your friend’s attendants here tonight. All muscles in König’s body tensed up like a cat ready to jump at little mouse, but seeing you just walked away from the guy without him even noticing because of how drunk he was, he made himself comfortable in the small wooden chair. 
“Having fun, I see?” You laughed at him and sat on his lap. 
“Mmm, now I do.” 
Giving him a What do you mean look, you felt his bulge pressing on your ass as it was growing. Looking quickly around you, everyone was just focused on the engaged duo and yelling over each other, too busy keeping their glasses full. With a smirk forming on your lips, you wiggled your ass on his lap making him twitch. Just feeling him grow under your movement, through his jeans and your underwear, made your own cunt hungry for him.
“Fu- stop,” he swallowed his words. 
His large hands trailed up your waist, perfectly lined in the tight dress. 
“You know what we should do?” He whispered and leaned closer to you.
Grinding more against bulge, but making sure no one can notice, you replied: “Go home?”
He breathed in and out deeply, trying to calm himself down. Cupping your cheeks rather roughly and bringing your face even closer to his, his hands loosened the strong grip on your cheeks as you slowly stopped moving, focusing on his half closed eyes. They quickly jumped across everyone in the room, realizing not everyone is occupied with their business like minute ago. 
Placing a warm kiss on your forehead, he whispered: “Verdammt recht,” his voice all raspy. “You’ll have to keep that nice ass of yours againt my crotch till we step out, so others won’t see how much you drive me nuts.” 
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allfortzu · 8 months
Text
to be lovers
-- nayeon / tzuyu. 1.24k, fluff ; birthdays. MEN DNI.
paris is lonely without a lover, nayeon is lonely without tzuyu.
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nayeon decides she'll spend her twenty-eighth birthday alone. 
"you sure you don't wanna do anything?" 
it's not even her birthday yet, but jihyo worries.
and while nayeon appreciates the sentiment of blowing candles and popping streamers at twelve – frankly, all she wants to do now is go home to tzuyu. 
"i'll be fine, really." 
she smiles in earnest, but they both know it's a lie, and they both know tzuyu won't be home waiting for her either. 
jihyo relents. 
"call me when you reach home. i'll drink two beers in your name!" 
nayeon waves her goodbye hastily. 
jihyo has sana to go home to, so she shouldn't be out late anyway. 
nayeon doesn't know if she could stand celebrating her birthday with two insufferable lovebirds either – or, even worse, insufferable lovebirds who get touchy when drunk. 
for the most part, sana and jihyo a cute couple; but now, they're a reminder of nayeon's own lover on the other side of the world. 
miles, countries, oceans away. 
so far that they would never see the sun or the stars at the same time. 
nayeon takes the scenic route home, a walk along the river. she hopes the sky is clear enough on tzuyu's side that she can see the faint glow of a morning moon, at least. 
her phone buzzes just as she thinks it – 
a baby blue heart beside a nickname only she knows, a profile with a picture she took of tzuyu herself. 
tzuyu
thinking about you 
maybe they're looking at the same moon, after all. 
nayeon
how did you know i was thinking about you too?
nayeon finds a bench, if only to properly savour the moment. she giggles when she sees the message again, and her heart both aches and flutters. 
tzuyu
i'm always thinking about you, but… 
maybe it's a girlfriend thing :)
nayeon doesn't stop the silly smile that spreads over her cheeks.  
nayeon
shouldn't you be at work now? 
tzuyu
i took a day off 
for a special occasion
;)
nayeon
oh?
considering the nature of tzuyu's job as a model, nayeon didn't know she could take days off so easily during fashion week. it's arguably the worst part of her birthdays.
but the effort remains – i’ll do all this for your birthday. 
nayeon
don’t they plan your schedules out months in advance?
tzuyu
i told them i was sick
which was definitely not planned 
cute, nayeon thinks, the edges of her lips tugging upwards. girlfriend things. 
nayeon
surely my tzuyu wouldn't lie
tzuyu
never!
i'm coughing as we speak 
cough 
and then i'll never have to work again and go to dumb fashion weeks on my girlfriend's birthday
the reminder makes nayeon pout. 
nayeon
you'll be home in a month right?
we can celebrate then
together :)
tzuyu
but i wanna celebrate with you today
the whole week actually 
i'll take a break and stay at home with you forever 
it's 11:50 pm now, and nayeon wishes tzuyu would stop giving her false hope. 
nayeon
you're making me miss you a lot
tzuyu
i miss you too…
call me?
i miss your voice 
nayeon doesn't waste any time making tzuyu wait. 
she picks up in one ring. 
"hey, lover," nayeon says, voice low. 
tzuyu giggles – this is what love sounds like, nayeon thinks. the sound of tzuyu laughing because of her. 
"i like it when you call me that."
tzuyu’s voice is muffled by an electronic hum, frequency altered, but it's infinitely better than nothing. 
"i know." 
nayeon folds her legs up and watches the moon's reflection in the water. it almost feels like tzuyu is beside her. 
"come home and i'll say it to you everyday." 
"hm, i might just come home right now.”
there's a shuffling of fabric, cloth brushing against cloth. tzuyu walking somewhere. 
nayeon is about to ask, but tzuyu asks first. 
"where are you? i hear wind." 
the night breeze grows, and the moon's reflection breaks from the gust. 
"outside, by the river." 
then, knowing tzuyu would worry: "i promise i'll go home soon." – but home feels empty without you.
there's more moving on tzuyu's end, footsteps on pavement and laboured breathing. nayeon wonders if she's busy, or if she's suddenly decided to take a brisk jog.
"are you outside, too?" 
"yeah," tzuyu breathes out. "i… remembered there's a river nearby here." 
nayeon laughs. "are we going to sit by the river together?" 
"exactly that."
and tzuyu laughs too, maybe because it sounds a little silly. 
so what if it is?
in nayeon's mind, tzuyu is running towards her. 
they’re watching the water together, the same water in front of nayeon that'll somehow make it's way to where tzuyu is. 
tzuyu will say happy birthday once it hits twelve.
she's never missed it.
“stay where you are.”
nayeon checks the time. 
"it's 11:58 now… you think you'll reach in time?" 
tzuyu's panting seems to slow. nayeon hears nothing but wind and water. the breeze calms, the waves lap gently. 
"well… i'm at a river. can you check if it's the right one?" 
nayeon let's out a snicker. "if it's all the way in europe, i think it's the wrong river." 
tzuyu doesn't reply, not yet. 
the moon's reflection stills, and nayeon can make out it’s full circle once again. 
silence hangs in the air, but everything is clear and bright. 
almost like tzuyu’s right next to her. 
"what if it's the one you're at?" 
nayeon hears it more clearly than she can imagine. 
the call has long ended, but tzuyu's voice rings without it. 
less than a country, less than an ocean. 
less than ten steps away. 
nayeon's legs move immediately.
five steps.
two…
one.
tzuyu.
and she hears her giggle, full and bright and clear.
"it's twelve now… i think i'm right on time?" 
nayeon holds her like she'd never left before. 
"happy birthday, lover." 
lover, all of their affections and fondness and love in a single word. 
"how– ?" 
"it’s a secret,” tzuyu hums, in the mischievious way she often does. “i told you i’d come back now, didn’t i?" 
something in between a sob and a whine slips out from nayeon's throat. 
she punches tzuyu's arm weakly, a barrage of scolding to ensue – "why didn't you tell me! i would've gone home! you didn't have to run here!" – but tzuyu only laughs and pulls her closer. 
nayeon let's herself be cuddled, even if she hasn’t quite grasped the reality of it. her hiccups stifle in tzuyu's chest, and her cheek presses against tzuyu’s heart.
"i meant it, you know," tzuyu whispers into her hair. "i'll take a break and spend it all with you." 
nayeon sniffles up the last of her tears. god, she’s missed this. 
"what about fashion week?" 
tzuyu kisses nayeon’s forehead. "fashion week could do with one less model.” tangible, there. “but i can’t do without you.” 
nayeon’s cheeks ache from smiling. “how long is this break?” 
“i’m all yours for as long as you want me here.” 
they’re so close that nayeon feels all her words, all her movement, right on her skin. 
the heat, the familiarity – her heart remembers it all. 
“and if i want you here forever?” 
oh, to have someone to hold in her arms. 
“as long as the birthday girl wants… ” 
tzuyu nuzzles her cheek. 
“... i’ll be here.”
oh, to go home to a lover.
nayeon holds tzuyu's face in her hands.
her lover in her hands.
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this was initially angsty... but i couldn't bear to post a sad birthday fic 😞 so i wrote a fluff version :) i apologise for the terrible formatting of the msging component.. how do i align text!&?! and i also apologise to all natzu fans for whatever this is! i really do just write words that do not make sense
happy late birthday to our nayeowon (we share a birthday!), and happy mooncake festival as well (how fitting of our resident bunny)! 🐰🥮🫶 thank you so much for reading <3
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velidewrites · 1 year
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One Hundred
On the morning of her one-hundredth birthday, Elain wants nothing more than to disappear into the covers. Fortunately, her mate has other plans.
Pairing: Elain x Lucien
Word Count: 586
Warnings: None, just fluff!
A light touch stirred her from sleep.
It began with a gentle brush against the tip of her nose, and she scrunched it slightly, not entirely ready to face the day ahead.
Then, it fell on her ear, soft and gentle, tickling the shell as it descended down to her jaw. Her neck.
Elain sighed in delight, just barely aware of the sunlight peering from the windows, urging her awake.
The sound was met with a low chuckle, deliciously warm on her exposed skin. It reminded her of a kiss.
The touch returned to her temple, her brow, and Elain realised she was being kissed—just as Lucien’s lips fell on her own, slow and lazy and curled up in a small smile.
She kept her eyes closed as her hands slid from under the covers to find his neck, pulling him closer, deeper as she let herself get lost in the moment. His strong arms found her instantly, as they always did, their golden-brown skin kissed by sunlight.
Elain smiled into his mouth. She was home.
She never wanted to leave.
But then, Lucien pulled away an inch—just enough to whisper, “Happy birthday.”
The moment shattered like glass.
Realising what day it was, Elain turned her face away from his and groaned loudly into the pillow.
A brush of lips against her shoulder. “Come now, Elain, that’s not how one would usually choose to celebrate their hundredth birthday.”
One hundredth.
Gods, she was so old.
If she were still mortal, she’d have wrinkles and grey hair by now. No—she likely would’ve been dead. One hundred.
Elain groaned again.
She could almost feel her mate smile as his hand dipped into her hair, curling one of the wild strands around his finger. “You know,” Lucien mused, tugging on the curl lightly, “For an old woman, you’re looking spectacularly sexy today.”
Elain didn’t even bother lifting her face as she grabbed the pillow beside her and threw it with surprising strength, pleased to hear Lucien’s muffled groan as it hit home. “Go away, Lucien,” she ordered. “Let me grovel in peace.”
Lucien hummed, making a show of considering. “The only way I’ll let my mate spend her birthday in bed is if I get to join her.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her skin as he added, “And when I do, I’ll make sure there will be no grovelling.”
Elain’s face heated at the memory of last night, suddenly very aware that she was still completely and utterly naked. And so was Lucien.
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” she began, “as long as you promise you’ll spend the whole day making me forget that I’m a hundred years old.”
Another chuckle.
“Tempting,” he said, the deep rumble of his voice rolling into her bones. “But I’m afraid I can’t do that—I have a lot planned for this particular occasion today.”
Elain sighed, and Lucien’s hand moved to brush his knuckles along her spine.
“How about I make you a deal,” he hummed, the sound entirely too self-satisfied at the shivers he elicited from her. “We’ll get you out of bed and have a fun day that I’ve spent a long time planning out,” he emphasised, his mouth finding that perfect spot beneath her ear as he added lowly, “And then we’ll come back to bed where I’ll make sure you are celebrated properly.”
Elain shuddered, and Lucien nipped at her ear, delighted at the reaction.
How could she resist?
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fromriches-tosin · 4 months
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Blurb time!! Today I’m thinking about ReiJean Valentine’s Day scenarios, and the first one I came up with is 100% canon, hear me out:
(feat. Aruani)
Jean and Armin have no idea what Valentine's Day is, and both Annie and Reiner honestly forgot something like that even exists. That’s what happens when you spend the best part of your teenage years killing people or being locked in a crystal in some freaky basement. Anyway, the four of them are having a day off, so they’re just strolling around the city they found themselves in, looking for a good place to have dinner. 
It’s getting late, and for some reason every restaurant they come across is full. They’re about to head back home, defeated and starving, but Armin spots one cozy looking place they haven’t checked out yet. To their luck, there is exactly one free table left. They sit down among giggling ladies and smugly smiling men, and breathe in the heavy scent of roses and melting wax. Jean scrunches up his nose at a couple kissing loudly on his left, Annie covers her nose to fight off the invading aromas. It’s less than ideal, but they’re really hungry.
Finally, a freckled waiter approaches them with the menu.
“Happy Valentine's Day!” he greets them with a smile just a tad too big to Jean liking. “Today every couple gets a fifty percent discount on their order.”
“A what day?” Jean kicks Reiner in the ankle under the table, demanding answers.
“Uh,” Reiner says.
“A day for couples to celebrate their love,” Annie explains in a dry voice.
“Oh, that’s… That’s great.” Armin shyly reaches for Annie’s hand. He intertwines their fingers in a rare public display of affection. “Right, Annie?”
“Yes. Great.” She lowers her gaze, blushing just oh-so slightly. 
“Perfect! Please choose your dishes.” The waiter beams, turning to Jean and Reiner. “How about you, gentlemen? Have you decided already?”
Jean looks at the prices in the menu, looks at Armin and Annie’s hands on the table, looks at the prices in the menu again, looks at Reiner… 
“Well, isn’t that fantastic! Right, Reibear?” He puts his arm around Braun, pulling him closer. “Such a beautiful, romantic occasion to share with our closest friends. I’m glad you’re here with me tonight.”
“You–You are?” Reiner asks, his voice a little muffled.
“Oh, do I understand correctly that you’ll be also sharing the order?” the waiter asks, and Jean ruffles Braun’s hair.
“I don’t see how we could not! We’re so in love. I have absolutely no words to explain how much and why. Literally nothing that could describe the depth of our feelings comes to my mind right now. The flame of our love is burning so bright though, I’m sure you can feel it burn your skin.”
Armin is quite pale in front of him, and Annie keeps drinking water to stop herself from snorting out loud. Reiner is eerily quiet, so for a moment Jean and the waiter are just grinning at each other as if competing to see who gives up first.
“Very well, my good sir,” the waiter finally says, and Jean can relax his facial muscles. 
“Jean, you didn’t have to,” Reiner whispers once the man walks away with their order. “We have enough money to cover regular meals.”
“I know we have the money, but now we can spend it on booze to celebrate our relationship!” Jean pats Reiner’s back. “Don’t worry, handsome, I’ll treat you right.”
Annie almost spits out the water at the sight of Reiner’s blank face. Armin just sighs and pours her some more.
“Why is it even called Valentine’s Day?” he asks matter-of-factly. “Where does this tradition come from?”
“There was a saint called Valentine,” Reiner answers and helps himself to some water, too. “The patron of epilepsy and beekeepers, I think.”
Armin furrows his brows.
“I don’t see the correlation.” 
“He was martyred on the fourteenth of February. That’s all I know,” Annie says. “It’s an old tradition, you would have to read about it.”
Armin’s eyes start shining.
“There are books about it?”
“So, let me get this straight.” Jean’s hand moves from Reiner’s muscled back all the way to his knee where it’s resting when the waiter comes back with their bottle of wine. They exchange the same theatrical smiles. The game is still on. “Some dude died, so that we could sit here today and cuddle over dinner?”
“That’s… That’s not exactly how martyrdom in religion works,” Annie says slowly, and Jean waves his hand in the air.
“Nevermind. Let’s make a toast!” Jean raises his glass. “To the lovely couples in attendance. I’m glad we’re still alive and here together. Because… Oh yeah, the last time the four of us were on our own… You tried to kill us.” He glares at Annie before turning to Reiner who now has a strangely dreamy look on his face. “And you, boy wonder, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack.”
“You made such a funny face back then.” Reiner has the audacity to chuckle, and Jean narrows his eyes in a warning.
They eat and drink, and this time it’s Braun’s hand resting on Jean’s thigh. It’s warm and heavy, and Jean really doesn’t mind it when Reiner’s thumb starts caressing the material of his pants. It’s good that Reiner caught up with the plan. Especially since the waiter is still observing them every chance he gets. Reiner’s glassy eyes and the blush tainting his cheeks sell the story way better than Jean’s words. 
“Can we please get another bottle of wine?” Jean asks the waiter when he shows up to take their empty plates away.
“Of course! Alcohol is not included in our Valentine’s Day offer, but there is one more thing I forgot to mention!” The man smirks, looking Jean straight in the eyes. Before he even opens his mouth to continue, Jean knows he’ll be presented with a challenge. “We have a free chocolate cake for anyone who gets engaged tonight.”
“Engaged?” 
Armin and Annie’s faces turn red, and they immediately let go of each other’s hands. They look so embarrassed, Jean almost wants to give them a hug.
“You can see the cake right there.” The waiter points in the direction of the counter. “It’s a gift from us to anyone who will decide to celebrate such an important moment here.”
The man walks away again, but not before shooting Jean one last smug look. Jean’s hand moves to Braun’s arm.
“Reiner–”
“Jean, no,” Armin pleads.
“Reiner, look at that cake.”
“I can see the cake, yes.”
“It’s so big.”
“That’s what you’ll be saying later.” Braun coughs. “Very big indeed, yes.”
“It’s free chocolate.” 
“Jean, no,” Armin repeats.
“Jean, yes,” Annie murmurs into her wine.
“Okay, I’ve decided.” Jean takes a deep breath. “Reiner, get down on one knee.”
“I–Wait, what?” Reiner’s eyes turn as big as saucers. “You want me to do what?”
“That bastard is challenging me. I’ll not stand for it. Also, I really want that cake. So, we’re going to get it.”
“Jean, I can’t, it’s not appropriate, I–”
“Reiner. Your knee. The floor. Now.”
Jean can feel Armin stare at him in horror, can feel Annie’s shoulders tremble from poorly concealed laughter. Braun gets down on one knee as requested and looks up at him with puppy eyes. Normally they would make Jean’s heart melt, but today he’s too determined to let them do that. 
“Jean, would you do me the honor–”
“Louder.”
“Light of my life–”
“LOUDER.”
“You saved me so many times, and I’d love to dedicate my heart to you. Please, marry me!” Reiner says quickly, and Jean grins.
“Of course, you beautiful bastard. I thought you would never ask.”
He gets up from his chair and drags Reiner into a kiss. Maybe, just maybe he’s taking things a little too far. Maybe. But he’ll give Braun the biggest piece of the cake to compensate him for the trouble. And he makes sure the kiss turns out great. Reiner is also doing his part, one of his hands cupping Jean’s cheek, the other squeezing his ass. Some lady in the background lets out a scandalized gasp, and Jean wraps his arms around Reiner’s neck, deepening the kiss. They both taste of wine, and Jean finds himself getting drunk.
Braun is a surprisingly good kisser…
They get the cake. It’s pretty okay, but Jean had better. But it’s the taste of satisfaction, the taste of victory that matters the most. Just before they leave the restaurant, he stops Reiner in his tracks.
“You have some chocolate in the corner of your mouth.” Jean wipes it off with his thumb and, to complete the performance, he licks it off as well. Reiner is looking at him as if Jean hung the damn moon and stars. 
They’re almost back at the hotel when Jean realizes Reiner has disappeared in the crowd.
“Hey, where did that oaf go? Don’t tell me he got lost again.” He looks around, telling himself he’s not panicking. It’s just a big new city. Full of strangers and dark alleys. Reiner will be fine on his own, won’t he?
“He said he’s going to a jewelry store. He wanted to buy a ring,” Armin replies.
“A ring?” Jean furrows his brows. “He doesn’t wear rings.”
“Not for him. For you.” Armin rolls his eyes with a playful smile.
Jean needs a moment for this information to sink in.
“Don’t tell me he thought that was for real.”
“Of course he thought that was for real. That’s why I was trying to stop you. Don’t you remember how many times he proposed to Historia just because she was being nice to him?”
Annie grabs Jean’s tie, dragging him down to her eye level. Which means Jean is almost bent in half. 
“Break his heart, and I’ll break your face,” she hisses, and Jean chuckles nervously in response.
He then straightens his back, fixes his tie and… starts running in the direction of the closest jewelry store. Shit shit shit.
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esta-elavaris · 7 months
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Flufftober Day 30: Self-Worth/Self-Love ~ James Norrington/OC [1.973 words]
My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here, and my behemoth of a main fic about these two is here 💜✨
This is the final bit in the little mini storyline I had going on with these - it's first referenced in day 10, it builds a bit in day 21, and we dig into it properly here!
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On their final night in London together, Theo had to concede that she hadn’t had half as bad a time as she’d expected. In fact, she hadn’t had a bad time at all. Sure, she spent the first couple of weeks waiting for all to suddenly turn bitchy towards her, using things she’d said when her guard was down to mock the begloved Irishwoman who may or may not have been a witch, but…it didn’t happen. And now their final social occasion, their farewell dinner, was drawing to a close, and she had to accept that it simply was not going to happen. Screw interdimensional time travel, this was the real miracle.
She’d even taken to dressing how she actually wanted to dress. Alright, leggings and band shirts were still out, but to her own tastes as far as fashions of the time went – rather than cosplaying as whatever she thought people would expect Mrs Norrington to appear. Which often meant dressing how Elizabeth would.
The last of their guests, Lord and Lady Montague, remained in the drawing room as the others left in order to finalise business, and everything was looking decidedly golden.
“I’ll confess, Admiral Norrington,” the older man insisted on continued use of James’ former title – a mark of respect, she thought, “I was prepared to come here, listen to some hare-brained scheme, before throwing what little gold and help I possibly could at it merely as a personal favour to Governor Swann.”
“Oh really, Henry,” his wife scolded, very half-heartedly, from where she sat beside Theo.
“I wouldn’t say it now if it had all proven true,” he pressed on. “I confessed myself impressed, by your plans, by your lovely wife, by you, by all of it. And very optimistic. You go forth with my full backing, and not just the sort that I offer out of obligation to save any awkwardness.”
Theo smiled, bowing her head as Lady Montague – or Alice, as she insisted she call her – squeezed her arm as if in agreement. Her experience with the upper crust of English society had begun with Beckett, and he was an act she had no wish to see repeated.
The Montagues stood, James and Theo following suit as Henry continued.
“I wish you luck, not that I think you’ll need it, going forth – and going forth with all the support you might need, from myself at least. And my contacts in the north. I’ve already written to them, I did so last night so I could reassure you of that fact before we saw you off.”
It was taking all Theo had not to start literally jumping for joy. As James expressed his thanks, Alice rounded on her and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Speaking of writing, you must promise to do so! You’ve been such a breath of fresh air, Theodora, I’m going to miss you sorely when you’re gone! You must come again. I insist, I really do.”
“I will,” Theo laughed. “I promise, I will.”
Her penmanship with a quill was improving, so with any luck James wouldn’t be obligated to scribe whatever letters she had to send.
The goodbyes were lengthy, but the moment they were out of the door and well out of earshot, Theo was hooting a laugh and throwing her arms about her husband in celebration – not content to let him downplay his success here. Only after that did the tiredness that had been culminating over the course of their time here really hit, and she returned to the sofa and sank down onto it with a sigh.
“You made an enthusiastic friend in Lady Montague. For life, I should think,” James said as he followed her in.
“Careful, James, you’re brushing against condescension – all that’s missing is a pat on the head and a good girl.”
Although that last part might be worth revisiting at a later date. He chuckled, walking to the bar cart and pouring them each a drink before he sat down on the couch beside her, handing her the crystal tumbler of whiskey.
“I know these things are tiring for you, but if it’s any consolation you handled it all marvellously.”
Theo made a humming sound, taking a sip and sighing. He was right – they were exhausting. Not even just because of the cultural differences, which one wouldn’t expect to exist between two such small neighbouring islands, but because of her origins, too.
“It wasn’t so bad as it was when I first arrived,” she admitted. “I…have more stable footing now, than I did back then. Don’t need to be paranoid that if I say my favourite colour is blue, it’ll be a secret code for I worship the devil every Tuesday night in these times.”
“No, that would be red,” he said drily.
“Duly noted.”
Back when she first arrived, it had been toughest. Having to constantly self-edit and really think over what she said before she said it, thinking of how she could skew an anecdote to fit the time – or if she could at all – by which point, the conversation had often moved on and she was left standing quietly like a lawn ornament to the side. With James, it had always been surprisingly easy. Even before he knew, when they were just talking, and he wasn’t trying to finagle details of her past out of her. And now she didn’t have to worry about it with him at all. A safe haven in human form.
It was Theo’s own humble opinion that she was at her best when she could speak her mind and crack her stupid jokes and, well, breathe. That hadn’t often been possible in Port Royal. Because they were of this time, and because they seldom shared her sense of humour – and going into this, she’d expected it to be more of the same. Amplified, perhaps, because this was London, where all of them had hailed from.
But either island life had made those there less friendly towards newcomers, or the old lot just really resented her for what she’d found with James. Then again, maybe arriving as a castaway, living in the jungle for a bit, and then running off with a pirate…multiple times…had something to do with it, too. Who knew?
In any case, she’d lucked out here – and she was relieved, but exhausted still. And more than a little sheepish.
“I’m sorry.”
“For worshipping the devil?”
He had not sensed her change in tone, thinking she was still joking. There was a precedent for that, wasn’t there? Theo was content to let it rest there, unsure if it was really a conversation she wanted to have anyway. But then he turned his head and regarded her fully, and the silence became a little less comfortable than it usually was between them.
“Sorry for what?” he asked, and then when she did not respond, asked again. “Theodora?”
“It…doesn’t come naturally to me. Not here.”
“What doesn’t?”
“The social side of it. Here.”
“She says as we sit here, drinking to her success.”
“We’re drinking to our success, don’t be daft.”
“I’m drinking to yours. Now tell me what you meant. Was someone unkind tonight?”
“Not at all. But…”
Well, they were having the conversation now. What good would it be to sit and make him pull teeth and figure out what was bothering her via a series of yes-or-no questions?
“…this is what wives are supposed to do, isn’t it? Here, I mean. Take joy in organising dinner parties and playing hostess and filling every spare hour of every day with luncheons and dinner parties and balls? Representing the team in the sophisticated social circles – the ones not inhabited by pirates and sex workers, anyway. It’s not exactly…”
A marriage to a fine woman. But she wouldn’t use those words – because they weren’t meant for her ears, because it would appear the matter of Elizabeth still weighed upon her (which it genuinely did not), and because it didn’t exactly convey how she felt. That made it sound like she doubted his feelings for her, or like she had no self-worth…which had never been one of her problems. God bless her dad and how he’d raised her.
“I don’t fulfil the traditional job requirements,” she finished lamely.
Then, though, she saw how he looked almost outraged by her words and winced.
“I’m not saying I don’t think you’re happy. Only that it would be understandable if you were…oh, I don’t know. Frustrated, now and then, at having a wife who you always need to explain to people.”
In all of their time together, they hadn’t ever really had a chance at living in a normal manner up until now. There’d always been some sort of grander game at play – some new adventure-slash-mortal peril tugging at their tailcoats. The bits in-between that kinda sorta resembled normality had been breathers. Blips between storms – between maelstroms.
James smiled a little as he bowed his head, and Theo wasn’t sure how to even begin taking the gesture. Had she really sounded that ridiculous? God, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth at all. But when he raised his head again and looked to her, the smile slipped away, and she knew her worry had shown on her face.
Sighing, he bent forward to set his glass down on the floor, and then took her free hand in both of his.
"Do you think I have none of the same fears? Three centuries of progress lies between here and where you hailed from. Between myself and then. And you have given up much for me…have sacrificed much for me..." as he spoke, he ran his thumb over the knuckles of her gloved hand. “I believe that you are happy just as you know that I am. But, sometimes, I do fear that one day you may grow to question whether it was all worth it. For you have sacrificed plenty, and I have gained much. I have gained everything.”
“Everything you’ve gained, I have too,” she insisted. “I never regret the choice I’ve made. Not even in passing.”
“And nor do I. I do not wish for a wife, Theodora. I want you. As you are. However you are. However you will be. And as for needing to explain you to people – if they do not possess good taste, that is their own affair. I enjoy being among the lucky collective who do.”
Theo felt herself flush, but he was not finished. He slipped one hand away from hers and brought it instead to cup the side of her face, thumb running across her cheek just as it had with her knuckles, urging her towards him so that he could kiss her – a kiss that was so slow and filled with such adoration that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to string another sentence together for at least an hour.
He pulled back, but kept her close, pressing his brow against hers.
“And I confess, if you suffered a head injury and began to take joy in little other than place settings and the town gossip, I should still love you but I would mourn it,” he teased. “You take little joy in these sorts of gatherings? Good. Nor do I. So I know I will never need to suffer through them unless entirely necessary – and when those times do come, I’m afforded the opportunity to witness you, to use your own wording, charm the pants off of those necessary. Now tell me, what facet of any of this is supposed to disappoint me?”
“What if I tell you I really am a witch?” she teased, pressing another kiss to his lips as if to prove her mood had lightened.
“I shall carry your broomstick for you with great pride,” he promised.
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Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune
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sephirthoughts · 18 days
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Father: Verb
Summary: 11 year-old WMD Sephiroth is assigned a new handler/bodyguard, named Vincent Valentine.
(prev chapter linked at bottom)
Chapter 4: Birthday Cake
“Vincent, what’s a birthday?”
Vincent’s oil cloth stopped on the barrel of his gun, and he stared across the workbench at the child who had just cheerfully gutted him. “A birthday is the anniversary of the day of a person’s birth.”
“Well, yes, I had deduced that much,” Sephiroth replied, continuing to polish his katana’s long blade. “But on several occasions, I’ve overheard people saying ‘happy birthday’ to one another. Why should they wish another person happiness on the day of their birth? Why would they even know what day that person was born?”
Vincent felt a headache coming on. “Sephiroth, have you never celebrated your birthday?”
“No. Why should I?” the boy asked, curiously.
“It’s just…it’s a thing people do. Paying special attention to someone on their birthday is a way of showing them that we appreciate and care about them.”
The boy thought about this for a moment. “Do most people know what day they were born?”
“Do you not?”
“No.”
“Then, how do you know how old you are?”
“By the calendar. When the year changes over, I’m a year older. Isn’t that how everyone does it?”
“In some places, it is, but usually, people count themselves a year older on their birthday, not on the new year.”
“Oh. When is your birthday?”
“October thirteenth.”
“Then I want that to be my birthday, too, so we can celebrate them together,” Sephiroth announced. “Only, I don’t know how, so you have to tell me what to do.”
“October thirteenth is in five days. You sure you’re ready to turn thirteen, in less than a week?”
“It’s not as if I’ll really be older. Besides, you’ll be forty-one. Thirteen doesn’t seem very significant, comparatively.”
“Thanks for pointing out my age, brat,” Vincent said, tossing a wadded up polishing rag at him, which Sephiroth caught.
“It’s not my fault you’re old, old man,” he retorted, throwing the rag back. “So, how do we celebrate our birthdays? I’ve never had one before, so we have to make sure we do everything right.”
“Let’s see. My family always made longevity noodles, for birthdays, so we should do that. We should also have a birthday party. That’s where we exchange gifts, all wrapped up with paper and ribbons, and there are balloons, and most importantly, a birthday cake.”
“What are longevity noodles? Also, what’s a birthday cake?”
Vincent scratched his head. “Um…you know the udon you liked? Longevity noodles are a bit like that, except the whole bowl is filled with one long noodle, that you make by hand. I think the tradition came from my mother’s side of the family. Birthday cake…I don’t think you’ve had anything to compare it to. We’ll go to a bakery in town, tomorrow, and I’ll show you.”
When he stepped off the lift, the next morning, Vincent was greeted by the sound of screaming, and a troop of helmeted Shinra guards dashing by. He looked down the hall, in the direction they were going, just in time to see a man in a white lab coat come flying out of a pair of double doors and slam into the wall with a heavy thud.
He crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll, and didn’t move again. Vincent vanished in a whirl of crimson and reappeared at the scene, well ahead of that troop of guards. The scientist’s neck was broken, but it was difficult to tell if it was the impact that killed him, or the pair of scissors jammed into his trachea.
Just then, there was another scream and a loud crash in the room, and a young boy’s voice shouted, “Get away! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”
Vincent stopped the guards, with a raised hand, as they came jogging up. “Secure the area and stand by. Let no one through. I’ll handle the asset.”
“Yes, sir!” the guards saluted, and hurried to carry out his orders, extremely relieved not to have to confront the little monster themselves.
Vincent pushed open the door, and stepped cautiously into the room. Steel trays and various medical instruments had been flung all over the place, the bed was overturned, and a couple of unconscious guards were lying about on the floor.
Sitting against the wall on the left, was a woman in a lab coat, with a very obviously broken leg, and a man, also in a lab coat, clutching one arm to his chest, with one lens of his spectacles shattered, and blood all over his face.
Several guards were aiming air-powered rifles at Sephiroth, who was standing at bay, in a pastel green hospital gown, with tranquilizer darts sticking out of his body in various places.
“Sephiroth,” Vincent said, ignoring everyone else. “Why are you so upset? What happened?”
The boy turned sluggishly and looked at him, with hazy, dilated pupils, which was apparently the extent of the effect on him, of tranquilizers sufficient to take down several elephants.
“Vincent! Th—they tried to cut my hair!” he cried out, piteously. “I begged them not to, but they wouldn’t listen! That woman put something in my IV that made me dizzy. The other one, he had scissors. I told him I don’t like having my head touched! He grabbed my head anyway, and I—I panicked.”
“He was supposed to be sedated!” the man in the lab coat said indignantly, from where he and the woman were huddled. “He just lost it all the sudden and started attacking us! He killed Dr. Irvington!”
“Why the hell were you idiots trying to cut his hair?” Vincent returned. “This was supposed to be a routine physical.”
“It—it’s policy, sir,” the woman explained, apologetically. “All subjects are required to receive hygienic grooming, at the time of their annual health evaluation.”
Vincent’s crimson cloak billowed up behind him, like nightmare wings, as he stepped menacingly toward the two scientists. His eyes flashed gold, and his voice took on a rasping, demonic timbre. “Does he look like he is in need of hygienic grooming? Does he look like an animal in a cage, to you!”
The two had already been trembling and cowering, and now they were also shielding their heads with their arms. “No, sir! We’re so sorry! We made a mistake! We made a mistake! We’ll never do it again!”
“Sephiroth is not your subject,” Vincent growled. “If he tells you not to cut his hair, you do not cut his fucking hair. Guards! Get them out of here!”
The guards stowed their tranq rifles and rushed to assist the injured scientists out the door (and a few even had the wherewithal to drag away the unconscious among their own ranks). When the room was clear, Vincent knelt in front of Sephiroth and plucked out the tranquilizer darts, which he flung away.
Then he took the boy in his arms and hugged him tightly. “That must’ve been frightening, for you. I’m so sorry. I’ll never let them do that to you, again.”
“You’re…not mad at me?” Sephiroth asked, in a weak, slurring voice. “I made a mess and I…I killed that man.”
“Of course I’m not mad at you. This was not your fault, it was theirs. They made a conscious choice to mistreat you, and these are the consequences.”
“Conscious choice…to mistreat me,” Sephiroth murmured, as if he was practicing saying unfamiliar words.
“How’re the sedatives? Wearing off yet?”
“Mm-mm. Still woozy,” he pouted, dropping his head onto Vincent’s shoulder.
Vincent scooped the boy up like a princess, to carry him over to the sink. From the cabinet, he dug out a sleeve of paper cups, one of which he filled with water, and helped Sephiroth drink it, slowly. When his eyes looked clearer and more alert, he set the boy down again.
“Uh. So. I pet your hair a lot, when we’re playing around, but…I didn’t know you didn’t like having your head touched,” Vincent said awkwardly. “I won’t do it anymore, if it bothers you.”
“It’s ok when you do it. I like it,” Sephiroth assured him. Then his expression hardened. “But not other people. No one is allowed to touch me, but you.”
Now that he was sure the boy was alright, Vincent collected Sephiroth’s clothing and boots, from the locker that had been knocked over in the fray, and helped him get dressed.
“I don’t know how good a job I’d do, but if you want, I could try to help cut your hair,” he offered.
Sephiroth shook his head. “I don’t want it cut. I want to grow it long, like yours.”
Vincent definitely almost smiled, at that. “If you’re all better, let’s get out of here. We’re going to the bakery, to order our birthday cake, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
When they exited the examination room, the coroner was present, and the dead scientist was being zipped into a navy-blue bodybag. The unconscious guards and the two injured scientists were nearby, being loaded onto gurneys, by paramedics.
Behind Vincent’s back, Sephiroth shot the man and woman a look of icy contempt, causing them to nearly faint with terror, before he tossed his head and followed Vincent away down the hall.
Later that day, the office of Professor Hojo, head of Shinra’s Science and Research Division, sent out a memo regarding the unfortunate accident in the exam room, this morning, regretting the loss of their colleague, Dr. Irvington, and admonishing the staff to exercise proper caution when operating dangerous laboratory equipment.
No mention was made of Sephiroth’s involvement, but the message was loud and clear: the little silver-haired prince could literally get away with murder. There wasn’t a damn thing anyone was going to do about it.
“Birthday cakes happen to be our specialty!” the pretty blonde woman behind the counter enthused. “Made to order, in whatever flavors you like. Oh, and we have a catalogue to choose from, in case you’re not sure what you want. Let me grab that for you.”
While she went in the back, to retrieve it, Vincent continued to stand there looking dour and out of place, and Sephiroth went to examine the glass case, which was packed with muffins, cookies, breads, and rolls, and a number of other fascinating confections that he’d never seen before.
“Berry tart,” he read aloud. “That looks good. Chocolate croissants…cinnamon buns…profiteroles. Vincent, what are profiteroles?”
“I have no idea,” Vincent said, coming over to squint at the items in the case. “They look like…little bread balls. But they’re covered in chocolate.”
“What’s inside them? Butter?”
“Don’t tell me you two have never tried profiteroles!” the blonde woman chimed, as she reappeared with the catalogue. “Well, we can’t have that. Take a sample, on the house.”
Before they had a chance to agree or object, she’d already skewered two of the golden-brown, cream-filled treats, on toothpicks, and handed them over. Vincent held one stiffly, while Sephiroth bit into the other. His blue-green eyes went wide and he quickly stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.
“That was delicious!” he beamed, when he was finished. “Thank you very much, ma’am!”
“Anything for the handsome little gentleman,” she tittered, glancing sidelong at Vincent. “Such good manners, too. Your mother must’ve taught you well.”
“I don’t have a mother,” Sephiroth replied blithely, as he devoured Vincent’s profiterole. “She died shortly after I was born, and I never met her.”
The young woman laid a hand on her ample bosom and made her very best sympathetic face. “Oh, how dreadful! So, it’s just…you and your father, now?”
“Yes. We’re having a birthday party, for the two of us, since we don’t know anyone else.”
“That is so sweet,” she intoned. “But it’s such a pity to let this fine boy grow up without a mother. Why haven’t you remarried?”
“I haven’t remarried because I was never married, in the first place,” Vincent answered, to the young woman’s discomfiture. “I’d rather not talk about it. Seph, come look at the catalogue and help me choose a cake.”
In the end, Sephiroth chose something called white velvet cake, with strawberry filling, fluffy, white, buttercream frosting, and a ring of glossy, red strawberries on top. Their full names would be quite a challenge to fit on even a much larger cake, so he chose the inscription, ‘Happy Birthday V and S’ to be written in scarlet icing.
The cake was ordered to be picked up on the twelfth, and the two departed directly, much to the disappointment of the flirtatious clerk.
Neither she nor Vincent observed the venomous glance, from a pair of serpentine eyes, that was cast on her, before the beautiful boy followed the handsome man out the door.
“Vincent, why did you call me that?” Sephiroth asked, as they walked down the street.
Vincent had no idea what he was talking about. “Call you what?”
“When we were in the bakery, just now, you called me Seph.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Parents sometimes refer to their children by shortened versions of their names. It seemed appropriate.”
“Will you…call me that, more?”
Vincent paused and turned around. Sephiroth had stopped dead in his tracks, and was looking up at him, imploringly. His eyes were pink rimmed and his lower lip was trembling.
“It’s just. I don’t have anyone to shorten my name. I don’t have anyone but you. So, if you called me Seph, sometimes, maybe it would feel like I had a f—a father.”
“Of course I will. Anything you want,” Vincent said, pulling the boy into a hug (as he’d been doing far too often, lately).
Sephiroth had grown like a weed, even in the short year they’d been together, and his head was already up to Vincent’s collarbone. That was her height, and as her son’s head rested on Vincent’s chest, memory washed over him like a tidal wave.
He found himself submerged in that one moment, all those years ago, when he embraced her, just like this, and she laid her head on his chest. The first and last time he’d ever touched her.
Sephiroth stiffened suddenly and jerked away, drawing Vincent abruptly from his ruminations. The boy’s blue-green eyes were glaring up at him, with a half-accusing, half-wounded expression.
“Who is Lucrecia?”
“Who…what?” Vincent asked, confused. “Where did you hear that name?”
“You said it, just now,” Sephiroth fired back, with swiftly rising agitation. “You were hugging me and petting my hair, and you said ‘Lucrecia.’ Is she…is she your woman?”
“It’s not what it—”
“You said you didn’t want a woman! You said you would never care about anyone, more than me! You promised!”
“Sephiroth, calm down and listen to me. She is not my woman, ok?”
“Then who is she?” Sephiroth demanded, sounding anything but calm. “Why would you say her name, all soft and sad, like that?”
Vincent sighed. “She was…a friend, a long time ago. That’s all.”
Sephiroth was breathing hard and blinking rapidly, like he had dust in his eyes. Vincent watched his hands warily, for any signs of fire flaring up, but to his surprise, the boy managed to pull out of the tailspin, on his own.
He shook himself and took a deep breath, then looked at Vincent again. “Ok. I’m ok, now. I’m sorry I overreacted. Everyone lies to me, all the time, and I hate it. Everyone except you. You’re the only person I trust, and if I found out you were lying to me, too…there would be nothing true in the world. Nothing I could believe in. So, when I thought you had lied to me, I got a little upset. I apologize.”
Vincent’s soul-crushing guilt very nearly broke him, right there in the street. Only by his literally superhuman will, did he keep a straight face, and force himself to carry on with this hellish charade. “It’s alright. It was just a misunderstanding. We still have to buy the rest of the things for our birthday party. Are you ready?”
“Mm. Ready,” Sephiroth nodded.
Vincent took his hand, and they continued down the street, as if nothing was wrong. But Sephiroth quietly engraved that name on his consciousness.
Lucrecia.
There was more to this mysterious woman, than Vincent was letting on, and he was going to find out what.
NOTES:
i know masamune is an odachi, but little sephiroth has a katana
longevity noodles are a chinese tradition and yes i hc vincent half chinese or whatever the final fantasy equivalent is no one can prove he’s not
THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY
vincent: sephiroth my poor innocent baby what did these mean people do to you are you alright you must have been so scared
dead scientist, two severely injured scientists, and any number of unconscious guards: ...
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nicolesainz · 2 years
Text
The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me (CS55)
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Carlos Sainz x female reader
warnings!! mature content 18+ sexual themes!!
It was Carlos’s 28th birthday. Another epic weekend for him, since he won his second Grand Prix ever in Zandvoort. This was truly a moment to cherish. Me, Charles, Rupert and Onõro, found this as the perfect opportunity to host him a surprise party in order to celebrate both occasions.
The boys were in charge of keeping him occupied throughout the day, while I was taking care of decorations and preparing Carlos’s house alongside with his family. I was sure they would keep him away from the house, since as a newly Spanish Grand Prix winner, the streets of Madrid would flood with his fans and Ferrari supporters who would congratulate him on another epic win.
- R : How is everything going? Need any help?
- Y/N : Everything is in control. Don’t stress. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.
-R : Great! We are at the golf track now and probably will still be until you call us to head back
- Y/N : I will text you when it’s time to bring him in
-R : Noted. By the way, he’s been asking for you. The moments we got in the car he said “Where’s Y/N? Is she not coming? She loves golf”. Obviously I said you were with a few friends.
- Y/N : Thanks Rupert! I owe you. Also he really believes I like golf?
- R : Not simply like. You love it.
- Y/N : I must be doing something wrong or he’s blind. Anyway, gotta go. Have fun and don’t come back until I say so!
- R : Copy that. See you soon
I hung up the phone and headed to my car. Needed to drop by the market to buy a few ingredients I was lacking of.
My car was smelling as if Carlos was in at the moment. His smell is so intoxicating but also calming simultaneously. My breathing would get heavier every time he hugged me. It was a safe place. By the years this hug made my heart race faster than it used to and bring back memories from our childhood that made me realize I was in love with him since forever.
As I was walking around the market in search of the ingredients, I felt a body knocking me off and it falling down too a few seconds later
“I am so sorry. I wasn’t looking at where I was going. Are you okay?” that voice that echoed through my ears was more than familiar 
“Isa?”
“Y/N? Hi! I feel even more bad now. Please forgive me. Are you hurt?” she was as sweet as always. The Isa I first met in middle school. The kindest person. Carlos’s ex girlfriend too. I was the reason they got together. At a mutuals friends party, we were all hanging out and decided to introduce them. Two months later, they announced they were dating. Their relationship was very private. Very few of us knew they were together. Even at races, she would only be pictured alongside me and not Carlos. 
“No, I am sorry. My mind was wandering somewhere else. How have you been?”
She then started telling me about leaving Madrid and living permanently in Portugal, working with one of her best friends as a model. Also mentioned she was in a relationship with one of her co-workers and a very famous Portuguese model. Of course, I already knew since I follow her socials. It was her first ever public relationship. Isa did not like to post much about Carlos. With the amount of fans he had as a Formula 1 driver, she had heard from other girlfriends how some comments may get really nasty. So she preferred to stay away from the spotlight. It was better for both of them. 
“I am so glad your life is going this great! You deserve it”
“Thank you. But, tell me about you! How is everything? Are the boys good? Give them my regards”
“I am good. Flying out almost every now and then. Trying to combine work with the races and personal life. The boys are good too. We are hosting Carlos a birthday party tonight”
For a split second, my mind thought about simply not inviting her. I wouldn't know if Carlos or her would feel comfortable around each other. But I also didn't want to be rude. 
“You are more than welcomed if you would like to come!”
“Sadly, I can't. I’m flying out tonight. Plus, I don't think it would be a great idea for me and Carlos to be in the same room”
“Oh okay. Well, whenever you are back in town, don't hesitate to text me. We could hang out, the two of us”
“I would be more than happy to meet up again. I hope you guys have fun today. And Y/N, go for it. Don't let your chance go away”
“What chance?” 
“He truly loves you more than anyone on this planet. We all know that. Don't let it go to waste” she gave me a kind smile with a playful wink. 
“Have a safe trip Isa”
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- R: Can we come back? If I stay here with him a minute longer, he won't make it alive
- Y/N : Yes you can. I was about to text you. Guests are slowly arriving. 
- R : Fucking finally! We are on our way. I will let you know when we are close
- Y/N : See you soon. And bring the birthday boy back alive
No more than twenty minutes later, Rupert texted me that they are 5 minutes away. I told everyone to hide behind the couches, as I would be hiding behind the door! I truly wanted him to like this surprise. That moment brought back to my mind Isa’s words. Should I really go for it? Confess my feelings after 25 years? As I was thinking about all the possible scenarios in my head, I suddenly heard the door unlocking.
“Honestly Carlos I could literally hit you with-” Rupert was about to say when we all interrupted him 
“SURPRISE!! Feliz cumpleaños Carlos!!” His eyes were glowing. They were wandering around the room, seeing all his friends and family together. Before he could say anything, his focus turned on me. It was like he was about to rip my heart out. I had never seen such kindness in his look. 
“Gracias a todos. Lo aprecio mucho. Estoy agradecido por todos ustedes (thank you everyone. I appreciate it dearly. I am grateful for all of you)
Charles, Rupert and Onõro went to hug him first. Then his parents were in line with his sisters and afterwards Lando, Max, Pierre and Daniel. 
When he was finished with everyone, he quickly wrapped his arms around me and held me so tight, as if I was about to run away. All the memories were flooding back, every little “thank you” and “you're the best person” were echoing through my ears. I could feel his grip getting tighter around my waist. My arms were caressing and gripping his back equally tightly. I could have stayed like this forever. 
“Te quiero a muerte”(i love you to death) he softly whispered to my ear, as he placed me back and let go of me. 
“Enjoy the party Mr. Sainz” I gave him a playful look and was about to go get a drink, when he grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him.
“So that's why you’ve been missing all day, huh?”
“I definitely wasn't with any friends whatsoever”
“Don’t you wanna spend some time with the birthday boy, no?”
“The birthday boy wants you though” his eyes darkened and a sense of lust appeared in them. One I hadn't seen before 
“Go play with the other boys Carlos. I will be around” he lets go of my hand and I move towards the table with the drinks and chat with Rupert for a while.
“He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you” Rupert quickly mentions before taking a sip of his drink 
“What do you mean?” I take a quick glance at Carlos who was currently laughing at something that Lando said
“Oh come on Y/N! We all know Carlos secretly likes you, even though he doesn't want to admit it”
“And what exactly can I do about that?”
“Talk to him? Explain how you feel? He hasn’t dated in 2,5 years. Nor been with any woman.”
“I don't think its a good idea Rup. We have been best friends since forever. He would hate me and I would hate myself too if I make this relationship awkward”
“Y/N, listen to Rupert. Plus, he thinks you like me. And I don't wanna end up in a dog fight with my teammate” Charles came by, as he was listening to the conversation we were having. 
“We will see”
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It was past 2 am and everyone had left. I told everyone that I would take care of the mess and clean it up. I was the one least drunk. As I was throwing away all the empty bottles, I heard a loud thump coming from outside of the kitchen. 
“Carlos? Are you alright?” I raised the tone of my voice so he could hear me
“Yes, cariño! More than alright” I went up to him and held him steady as he was about to fall down. The wine he had in the plastic cup was splashed on my shirt, which made his eyes grow. The cold feeling of the wine made my nipples visible, since I had taken off my bra. 
Carlos’s eyes were scanning my whole body from top to bottom. He bit his lower lip and said in one breath:
“Cómo es que nunca me había dado cuenta de lo hermosa que eres?” (How come I had never noticed how beautiful you are?) 
The blood quickly rushed to my cheeks, which made me lower my look from his. I didn't know how to feel. To my surprise, I saw the grown bulge on Carlos’s jeans, which made me leave the room. Before I could react, he jumped in front of me and stopped. 
“Its bedtime mr. winner. I have more work to do” 
“I would much rather you being occupied somehow else”
At that moment, he brought his two fingers under my chin and lifted it up for me to look at him. His beautiful eyes were calming my soul down but his rosy lips were setting it on fire. There was a war going on right now between my heart and brain. 
“I would give up the whole world for you. Just to make you happy. I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you. I have never loved someone more than you. And I don't think my heart will ever allow me to” the words that came out of his mouth, were the reason why I felt alive at that moment. 
“Puedo besarte?” (can i kiss you?)
All i simply did was grab him by the hem of his shirt and connect our lips. This was all I was wishing for. He didn't waist time to lift me up and carry me upstairs to his bedroom. His lips were following a path that was going between my neck and lips. A soft groan escaped my mouth as he bit my lower lip hungrily. When we reached his bedroom he threw me on the bed and took off his shirt quickly. What a sight for sore eyes!
Then climbed back to my body and begun slowly undressing me, while his lips were constantly connected to mine. Once my shirt was gone, his mouth flew towards my hardened nipples and started making circles with his tongue around them
“Oh my lord-“
“No need for praising baby”
His hands were making their way towards my panties which were soon destroyed as Carlos ripped them apart fiercely.
“I’m so sorry for wasting so much time cariño”
My womanhood was dripping wet and Carlos seemed to be more than pleased with this result. He lowered his head, which I followed with my eyes and started leaving hungry kisses on my pussy.
He suddenly rose up
“How many? Show me”
I held up 2 fingers
“What a good girl. Abre, mi amor (open up, my love)”
I obliged to his command and spread my legs wide. I seriously couldn’t believe this was happening. Suddenly, there was a blissful feeling inside of me. As if I was one step away from heaven. His fingers were pumping in the perfect rhythm, earning a louder groan from me.
“Am I the only man you’ve been this wet for, cariño?”
“Y-yes” I said with no hesitation
“Don’t keep your voice down. I want to hear you. Louder” his movements became faster and my pussy was clenching around his fingers
“Fucking hell Carlos” my moan was even louder now. Just what he wanted
“Hell? I must be doing something wrong then. I wanna send you to heaven”
“I’m go-gonna-co-come” I let out a soft whimper as I was too focused on how his fingers were making me feel so good
“Then do so,Hermosa. On my fingers” in a few thrusts, I felt the warm liquid leaving my body and I finally opened my eyes. A sight of Carlos with his messy hair being underneath me was presented. I thought I was dreaming. But then I realized I wasn’t, once he put his fingers in his mouth to taste me.
“Cielo(heaven)” Carlos gave me a lusty smirk, brining his face closer to mine and sharing a hungry kiss. His hands were firmly cupping my cheeks, while mine were roaming all over his muscly and tense body. When I reached the lace of his underwear, Carlos looked at me with pleading look.
“I’m yours to use. However you want. Make me feel alive again” this phrase, was the beginning of everything. A wild story was about to unfold.
My fingers lurked inside his pants and firmly pushed them downwards, which lead to his cock being fully exposed to my eyesight. I was slightly taken aback, at which Carlos commented,
“Te gusta lo que ves?(do you like what you see?)”
“Full of surprises Sainz”
“Only for you”
I lowered myself on my knees. Once I was beneath him, my lips softly touched the tip of his cock, which made Carlos flinch a little. I smiled at his reaction. My tongue did a few first swirls around it, before opening up fully and taking his entirety inside me. I started off slowly until I could find the best pace for the both of us. My free hands were simultaneously squeezing his balls to give him more of a feeling of who was now in control.
“My fantasies just became my reality” he softly spoke out. Those words made my heart race faster. Was I really his fantasy? This whole time?”
I started sending the pre-cum, coming from his tip in the back of my throat. To which I didn’t complain. Means I was doing something right.
He hasn’t stopped looking at me. As if he is taking a picture of me with his eyes.
“Darling I’m close” he let out in coordination with a loud moan
In less than a few second my mouth was filled with his juices.
“Swallow. Every. Last. Drop” his lips were brushing mine and I did so before he could kiss me again.
“Thank you for the gift Princesa”
“Happy birthday Carlos”
“I know I’m very late, but I want you to know that I love you. Every bit of you. Unconditionally. And I always will” his eyes were sparkling as those words escaped his mouth.
“I’m glad this isn’t one of my dreams, because I love you too. As a best friend and more than that”
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galactic-academia · 1 year
Text
A Good Rub
Rating: E, minors pass your way.
Category: F/M
Fandom: The Mandalorian
Relationship: Cobb Vanth x F!Reader
Tags: Flirting, language, fluff, massage (M receiving), fingering (F receiving), very brief oral sex (M receiving), dirty talk, unprotected PIV (don’t be a fool: wrap your tool)
Words: 5,2K
Summary: Cobb Vanth is the best Marshal Mos Pelgo could have dreamed of, but at the end of the day, he’s still a man and his back is killing him. That, you can take care of (loosely set before the events of TBOBF)
Notes: Alright, believe it or not, but I’ve been working on that for months, so I’m very happy to finally share it. I’m not used to write smut, but I did my best, please be indulgent, also I’m not a native, please, forgive my mistakes. Reader is described as a woman with breasts and female genitalia, but no further descriptions (if somethings escaped to me, please say so and I’ll correct it).
Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Timothy Olyphant Masterlist
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«Oh, stars! Right there...»
He hadn’t meant to sound like this; needy, hoarse, it had been punched out of his lungs and he was considering himself lucky that this vulnerable sound hadn’t turned into a full moan. Still, he blushed as you immediately complied, pressing hard into the muscles of the Marshal’s lower back, then repeating the exact same move, but with less intensity, and again, softly - almost caressing - before setting on another group of muscles.
It had been your idea, you had started all of this - that he was sure about - but how exactly he had turned lucky enough to end up lying, half naked, in your bed; Cobb Vanth was still processing. Not to mention the fact that you were Hell bent on helping him to relax, thus the massage the Marshal was currently enjoying... A little too much.
Granted, it had been a tough day; Barzan’s flock of banthas having run off the previous night, as many people of Mos Pelgo as there were available land-speeders had tramped the Dunes Sea in search of the contumacious animals all day long. On the evening, Barzan had all his cattle back and secure in a paddock, and Taanti had treated the valiant sand rangers to a round of drinks on the house - even if he had grumbled in his non-existent beard all along.
Of course, Cobb had partaken in the searching mission today; led it, actually, he also had helped Barzan to steer his banthas back where they belonged after roaming the desert for hours, and he went to Taanti’s celebration, for the Weequay would certainly have removed the Marshal’s head from his shoulders if he hadn’t.
It was beginning to be late when Cobb had left the cantina. Quite frankly, there was nothing his heart desired more than just lying down and be unconscious for a few hours, but he still had business to attend.
«AWWww...»
Unfortunately for him, while still being in excellent shape, vigorous and strong as all Hell, the Marshal wasn’t as young as he used to be, as his back just had nastily reminded him.
«Hiya, Marshal.»
Cobb grimaced to himself - of course, you would be the one to catch him during a vulnerable moment - before turning around to face you, all charming, cheeky smiles, and pretend to scratch an itch instead of holding on tight to his crumpling vertebrae. The good sheriff truly couldn’t care less about what people thought of his persona, he hadn’t any time for that kind of bantha shit. But you weren’t «people», and even if he would rather die than admit it out loud, Cobb always jumped on any and all occasions to impress you.
«Good evenin’, my fair lady», Cobb gave it a shot, even if he knew it was useless. Hadn’t you knew him as well as you did, you would have fallen for his act, but you could see right through him - on this point, at least - and knew your beloved Marshal was still upright by sheer stubbornness only.
«May I ask you where you’re heading to on this pleasant evening?»
You also were at Taanti’s, you knew where he was coming from and Cobb was sure you were ready to bid everything you had on the fact that he was not heading home. It was a game the two of you had been playing for far too long, and you were still falling in each other’s traps every single time. Falling for each other.
«I’m on my way to she Sheriff’s Office, where a thing or two are still waitin’ to be taken care of before I can call it a night.» Cobb noticed your arms crossed on your chest and your head tilted in frustration: that was what you were excepting to hear and you weren’t happy about it. «But if there’s anything you need, just say the word, and I’ll be all yours.»
You let a little huff escape by your nose and turned your head to the side, breaking eye contact, but a half smile blossomed on your lips nonetheless. Yeah, putting a smile on your face, he never failed to. Oh, you did bite your lips to try to conceal your growing grin, but in vain. You couldn’t resist the Marshal, he always managed to make you melt. Giving in, you grinned freely and even let yourself go as far as giggling. And there was nothing Cobb liked more than making you go all bashful.
«Indeed, Marshal, there’s something I do need.» You held your hand slightly, inviting Cobb to take it and brush his lips across your knuckles like he sometimes did when he felt brave enough, or when the need to be close to you turned into an ache impossible to soothe.
«Ma’am -», and he did, he did lift your hand and softly, delicately, let the plump of his lips and the tingle of his moustache caress the thin skin - not of your knuckles - but of your fingertips, «- your wishes are my commands.»
«Truly?» Oh he should know better than blindly trusting you when you act all innocent and shy like that. But, what can he say? You’re his weak spot.
«Whatever you want, just name it and I’m your man.»
Too much. He had said too much. It’s the truth, not even disguised as a tease or a silly jab. He would do whatever you want. He would be your man, if you’d let him. And yet, Cobb can’t make himself regret his words, not when these instants, hushed, stolen, whispered in the dark, are more thrilling than anything he has ever experienced.
Never taking your hand out of his, you turned around to go back inside, «Come on in, then Cobb», and he diligently followed you, like he promised he would. The Marshal hadn’t paid attention, when he was outside, that he had almost collapsed under your window and, as you led him to your bedroom, where you left him to go rummage into the adjoining little bathroom, he tried to not mull on that thought.
«So, what’s the problem? Is there a sand spider in there? Somethin’ that needs to be fixed?» Cobb was feeling antsy, he was trying to not invade your privacy, but miserably failing at not noticing the soft, rumpled sheets, appealing to his tired body. The pillows were looking unbearably comfy and he felt a sudden pang of longing at the thought of lying there, entangled with you, his nose buried in the nape of your neck - or in your hair - and just breathing you in... However, a flash of pink got him out of his reverie as soon as he caught it; was it your dressing gown laying there, abandoned, on the bed? Did you... Shed it?
Of course she’s in her sleeping attire, you moron, not everyone needs to be dead on their feet to judge it’s time for some shut eyes, like you do!
«My problem is that you’re literally working yourself to death.» You came out of the bathroom in your night gear only - and this time Cobb didn’t fail to notice it - and gave him a towel. «And since you promised you would do whatever I want, you’re going to lie down and let me give a good rub to your poor back.»
The Marshal should have been ashamed - and he would, had he been in his normal state -  but the sight of you had short-circuited his brain. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, but it was light enough to be bearable on this warm night. Ample, to be comfortable, the exact opposite of Cobb’s pants, becoming tighter by the minute, just seeing how much your breasts were now free to gently bounce as you waved in the direction of the bed. «Off with your clothes».
That caught the Marshal’s attention.
«I’m sorry, what?»
All flushed and looking down, you still powered through your embarrassment, «Y-you take off as much cl-clothes as you’re comfortable to and you lie on the bed. I’m... I’m going to give you a massage. If it’s ok with you?»
Cobb wanted to laugh, manically so. You, the plump, young, soft thing, were asking him, the broken, exhausted, middle-aged man, if he were ok with disrobing and lying in your bed so you could touch him? What the Hell are they putting in the Spotchka, these days? But sensing you wouldn’t agree with him on the absolute fuckery of the situation, the Marshal just croacked a «Yeah, darlin’, that’s very ok with me», before starting to blindly remove his bandolier and his blaster. And the bright smile you gave him before going back to the bathroom made him tell to his screaming conscience to go fuck itself.
As you had asked him to, the Marshal got rid of his shirt and his signature red scarf, then his boots and - while he was at it - his socks, because even if he were still trying to convince his traitorous body to calm the fuck down, Cobb was very well aware that there were a few things unsexier than a man in his drawers with his socks still on. To his credit, the good sheriff hadn’t had the intention to take his pants off, not until he truly looked at them. He had quickly showered before going to Taanti’s, but the celebration had been a little wild for some of the villagers and one of them had spilled their drink on Cobb. His shirt has been mostly spared, but his pants had taken it all and they were now sticky and stinking of alcohol. There was no way he was letting that garbage go anywhere near your little nest.
That’s how Cobb Vanth ended up to crawl - mostly naked - in your bed. No big deals, just a nice massage from a friend, nothing to fuss about. If only the rest of his body could get the memo... The Marshal was bitterly chastising himself and grabbing for a pillow to rest his head upon when you finally came back from the bathroom.
«Comfy?», you asked, dropping off some items Cobb hadn’t had time to identify, before crawling on the mattress and settling on the back of Cobb’s thighs.
Certain the Maker was testing him, the Marshal managed to croak a pitiful «Yeah», before he buried his face into the pillow. That proved to be a tactical error when, upon his first breath into the material, your smell flood his nose. Cobb must have grabbed just the one you sleep with; of course he had.
«Alright then,» he heard you mumbling to yourself, «let’s do this.» The Marshal felt you wiggling against his ass and fiddling with the Maker knows what for a few seconds, and the tingle of the material of your loose sleep shirt on his skin was torture already. However, nothing could have prepared him to the feeling of your hands. They were warm and soft, and gliding unexpectedly smoothly over his neck, shoulders and upper back. That alone was very pleasant, and Cobb was almost ready to lose the battle against his body when something cool went dripping onto his back, making him startle a little.
«Sorry, this is just some moisturiser, so your skin won’t be chafed. Is that ok?»
Not trusting his tongue anymore and biting on his lips to contain the groan that was threatening to escape, the Marshal just made a positive noise without lifting his face off the pillow.
Satisfied with the answer, you went back to work, first rubbing with the palm of your hands, before getting your fingers to dig into the knots you found, applying pressure and steadily moving.
«I’m so happy you’re letting me doing this for you», you spoke so quietly, hushedly, as if you were afraid to ruin the moment, or to scare him, «You’re always taking care of us, we’re so blessed to have you Cobb... I hope you know that.»
Hadn’t he been down to his briefs, dizzy with pleasure and with your knees bracketing his hips, the good Marshal would certainly have found a way to evade your praises. He would distract you or simply find a reason to flee. Your kind words made him uncomfortable; he craved them, like he craved your attention and your affection, but once he had them, he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. But here, trapped under you, with his brain flooded with endorphins... It wasn’t a problem anymore.
«You’re too good to me, sugar, I don’t deserve you.»
«You deserve everything and then some more, Cobb, let me be good to you.»
Somewhere deep inside, the Marshal knew he had put himself in an impossible position. You were there, showering him with soft touches and kindness, and whatever you may think, he was still just a man with an erection pressing into the mattress. Listening to you saying you wanted to be good to him wouldn’t help him to calm down, neither would the fact that you had now decided to give some love to his lower back, each movements of your hands pushing Cobb’s hips into the bed, forcing him to hump the sheets.
Some broken groans started to escape him, the Marshal couldn’t contain them anymore, not when he was growing harder and harder, his drawers damp with precome. Not when you were spurring him on.
«That’s it, here you go, let it all go, I’ve got you. Let it be good for you.»
Cobb was panting, trying his damnest to not squirm, to not lean into your touch and chase the friction your firm mattress provided to his cock, when it happened all at once. He felt your nimble fingers sneaking under the elastic of his underpants to access his lower vertebrae - those which were hurting the most - and kneed, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain up his spine and his hips grinding down against the bed some more.
«Oh, stars! Right there...»
No, Cobb hadn’t meant to sound like this, and he knew he should have asked you to stop, especially when he felt a warm burst of precome shoot from his throbbing shaft only to come dripping down, adding to the sticky mess he had made of his briefs, oozing through the fabric and into your sheets. But it was so good...
Lost into the sensation of your hands working his muscles back into submission, the Marshal unthinkingly grind down more violently and let out a sinful, purring sound... To which you echoed an answering moan.
It had been a tiny sound, a delightfully pathetic little mewl, but it stuck Cobb light lightening. He raised himself on his elbows and turned his head to look at you above his shoulder. There you were, still perched on the back of his legs, all flushed and dishevelled, mortified. Irresistible. One moment you were kneeling on the bed and the next Cobb had flipped you under him and was devouring your mouth like a starved man.
The squeaking noise you made when your back hit the mattress didn’t do anything to deter the Marshal, not when your arms immediately went around his shoulders and neck for you to pull him closer. It made something clench in Cobb’s chest and his hunger for you took the second place behind the absolute delight that flooded him. You wanted this at least as much as he did. You wanted him. The Marshal let his fever morph into something savoring and languid, almost teasing. It made you smile against his lips as you pushed one of your hands into his silver locks and let out a giddy little noise.
His heart threatening to leap out of his chest, Cobb broke the kiss only to set his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.
«You have no idea for how long I have wanted to do this.»
«Do it again, then.»
Your mouth went back to his, even hungrier than before.
«Please Cobb, please...», your breathy little pleas, whimpered between fervent kisses proved to be the Marshal’s undoing. With quick, efficient moves, he unceremoniously threw your clothes to the floor, before starting to cover your body with kisses and roguish little nips that make you squirm under him.
«’Ve got you, baby, don’t you worry. Look at you, all worked up already and I barely touched you...»
Equally playful and amazed, Cobb swiftly swiped his tongue across your nipples and started to leave  kitten licks on both of them, making you shudder and moan some more.
«D-Don’t tease! Cobb, d-»
«’M not teasing.» He totally was and hadn’t any intention to stop. When his gaze levelled with your navel, a devilish grin - the one that screamed troubles and that you loved so much - painted itself on his lips, «Just savoring my pretty girl. You’re such a treat, all sweet and soft for me, aren’t ya honey?»
He let his tongue slowly dip in your navel, then retreat back up, leaving some saliva pool in it. Then he repeated the motion, a little faster with every pass of his tongue, until he was fucking his saliva in and out your navel and you were desperately trying to press your tights together and shaking your head from side to side.
«What do you want, sweet girl?» Cobb asked, lifting himself up from your belly to grab your wrists and remove your arms from your face. His bright eyes turned soft upon beholding your own gaze: unfocused and watery, but full of want, «Tell me, baby, tell me and it’s all yours.»
You promptly released your arms from the Marshal’s hold - much faster than he thought you were able to in your state - only to clutch to his neck, smashing your lips back together. It was messy and without any finesse, but your eagerness made something primal and possessive curl into Cobb’s stomach. At last, between sloppy kisses, you managed to slur, «Want you... All of you, like you promised...»
Had he still been a young man, the Marshal would have made a fool of himself, already. Half mad with want, he started to babble into your ear while sliding his fingers under your panties to run them down your legs. «You got me, sweet thing, you got me. I did promise, didn’t I? Wouldn’t dream of breaking my oath, not to you. Open up for me, yeah? You took such great care of me tonight, now it’s my turn...»
His long, thick fingers found your mound, lightly grazing your clit before softly parting your folds while his tongue teased yours in a gentle caress, somewhat placating your desperation, slowing down almost to a halt where you breathed each other in. Then, without any warning, he sank two digits in your soaking heat, swallowing the gasping cry you let out. «So wet, baby, so perfect for me, always...» The twist he added to his move as he eased them out made you shudder, your mouth open in glee. «M’gonna give you everything you want». He pushed his fingers back inside, curling into you, again and again, as your grip on his shoulders became painfully tight. «Gonna ruin you».
You already were ruined, had been since well before he had first touched you, before he had graced you with a quick hug in thanks. But that, Cobb wasn’t aware of. The drawn-out pinning for your Marshal, all the little things you had shared, those secret smiles, those stolen looks, those quick winks and lips almost blood-bitten, collected like sanctified tokens and tucked in a corner of your memory for rainy days, they all came surfacing to be crowned when the rising tension in your lower stomach suddenly snapped. You gushed on Cobb’s fingers with a surprised moan he gladly swallowed, your legs wrapping around him.
When the Marshal finally left your lips for more than a quick, much needed breath, it was for lifting his soaked fingers from your center to curl his tongue around them. You were breathless - he always had had this effect on you, turned you into an anxious, but giddy mess each time he appeared in your line of sight - but not enough to prevent you from rolling him underneath you with a growl. You always were nervous around Cobb Vanth, but in a skittish way, bold and unpredictable, and you were pretty sure that was what kept him always coming back for more.
Eyes wild, your hair starting to look like a nest, you preened under your Marshal’s ravenous gaze. You only let him enough time to steady his hands on your hips before you started your own way down his body. You too - as Cobb discovered with bliss - could kiss and lick and nip and suck. Once again, he was the one to squirm due to your ministrations, but this time, he couldn’t stop his damn mouth to run, «Gonna be the death of me, baby. Always so good to me, so pretty an’ so sweet... Come back here, honey, let me make good on my promise, y-yeah?».
However, by the time he finally shut his mouth, you had reached the hem of his brief and were showering it in butterfly-light kisses. You waited for him to look you dead in the eyes before hooking your thumbs into the elastic and - at last - pulling his length free. You took him in, laid out in the warm, dim glow of your bedside light, glorious, gorgeous. The tough, cocky Marshal, tamed for you and for you only, awaiting your next move. You could have eaten him. Then you looked at his organ, proudly resting against his belly. You muttered an impressed curse and bit your lips, both amazed and a little thrilled, before you made the mistake to look up to Cobb’s face. The bastard was smirking down at you, fully aware of his blessing and truly pleased by your wonder. But then again, even if there was nothing you liked more than pleasing your Marshal, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be a little shit yourself. Still holding his gaze, you let your tongue peaked between your lips and gave a long, thorough lick up his manhood, even going as far as quickly dipping the tip of it into his slit. Cobb throwing his head back and biting his lips to try - and fail - to contain the neediest growl was a very, very satisfying sight to behold; but before you had time to lean back - fully intending to indulge into the writhing man beneath you - he firmly grabbed your hips and manhandled you - a hand coming to pillow your head as you hit the mattress - so he was, once more, on top of you.
«Sweetheart,» he purred, his nose nuzzling your cheek, his thumb barely ghosting over your parted lips, «You can’t imagine how many times I’ve fucked my fist pretendin’ it was this smart, wicked mouth of yours.» You snapped up his finger into your mouth, lightly nipping at it, because the image of this man touching himself to the thought of you was too much to handle. You needed to consume him, in all the ways he would let you. «But right now,» Cobb briefly replaced his thumb with his lips, «I need to have you». There he was, hovering over you, dishevelled, his eyes wild, hard and leaking, dizzy with want, half mad with the imperative need to make you his; and here you were, sprawled on your back,clutching at him with all your limbs to push him closer to you, chasing his lips and whimpering into his mouth, your legs spread around his hips, open and ready and wanting, and still, Cobb forced himself to draw back a little, to look at you and to whisper, «If you will have me?»
He would have stopped. Would you just have told him to, and he would have stepped back, helped you to dress and cuddle with you or - if you so have wanted - just went away and let you be. The decision was yours to take, so you took it; you buried your hands into his hair and led him back to your mouth to murmur against his lips, «Yes, Cobb, I want you, please... Please, fuck me».
Intense. You had thought about the best adjective to describe your Marshal, and there was no word that could make him justice ; but « intense » was the closest thing to it. His life was intense, here, at the far end of everything, where heat, dryness and almost everything that lives do their best to kill you. His work was intense, keeping the bad guys away from Mos Pelgo and making everyone’s problems - big or small - his as well. His wrath was intense, and you know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill in cold blood. His laugh was intense, loud and clear, springing right from his belly and impossible to resist. His gaze was intense, all seeing, even right trough people, but always so, so kind to the ones he had swore to protect. In bed like in every other aspect of his life, Cobb Vanth is intense, to your greatest delight.
It’s a tight fit, even soaked and open from your first orgasm as you are. Your breath hitched as the fat head started to breach your entrance. He’s barely inside, really, still, you scrunched your eyes close, as it would ease the painful pinch away. It didn’t, but Cobb cradling your cheeks in his hands and covering your face in kisses certainly helped, though.
«T’s alright, love, I got you. Just take it easy, yeah?»
Love. You’ve been trying to relax, knowing that, once the dull pain would have faded away, only pure bliss would stay. This term of endearment and the implication it involved, however, it made you clench hard around the few inches already inside you. Cobb’s features contorted before he let his forehead bump against yours, eyes closed and lips parted, «Maker, you’re so kriffing tight,» he hissed, lips blindly seeking yours, «loosen up a bit for me, sugar, or it will end before it had even begun, you feel so damn good...»
Gently, Cobb slipped his arms under your thighs, spreading them some more, drawing his hips back before driving them forward again, slowly, carefully, but deeper than before. Then again. And again. «Gonna make you take more, don’t you worry babygirl, gonna make you take all of it.»
You moaned, aroused beyond belief by the idea of being full of him and then it hit you: it didn’t hurt anymore. You opened your eyes to meet Cobb’s, the beginning of a smile starting to form on your face, but it morphed into a surprised «Oh...» when you felt the grind of his pelvis against you.
Cobb was downright grinning at you, «There you go, sweetheart.» For one moment, you were simply stunned, trying to process that you were, at last, being one with your beloved Marshal; but then he started to draw his hips back, painfully slowly so, before going back the same fashion. Lazy, deep strokes, letting you feel every ridge, every twitch.
«Does that feel good, pretty baby?»
It did; so much that your brain just refused to cooperate anymore, happy to bath in euphoria. Who needed to talk when you could just feel that incredible?
«Answer me», Cobb punctuated his growl with a deeper, harsher thrust, and the loud, unashamed surprised moan that fell from your lips set him on fire. «Mmh, it did feel good, but you like it a little rougher, don’t you, love?»
Your helpless mewl and attempt to bury your face in the crook of his neck gave Cobb all the answers he needed. He shushed you, kissing the side of your forehead, «It’s alright, baby, I’m going to take care of you». And he did, he pounded into you, pushing against something absolutely mind-blowing, hungry for your cries and moans. Ravenous for the pleasure he was giving to you. Each thrust made heat curl into your belly, tension gathering and rising, pushing you toward the edge. It’s going to be a Hell of an orgasm, you can feel it. It’s just there, you can practically taste it.
«You gonna come for me, babygirl?» Cobb murmured in your mouth, just too enamoured with the eagerness you kiss him with to leave it alone, even for just a breath. You nod, feverishly seeking his lips before he starts to speak again, «Come on my cock, sweetheart, let me feel it. Let me feel you».
The tension in your lower belly morphed, once again, in warmth and this is it, pleasure rolled into you as your lower muscles clamped hard several times. Somewhere into your dopamine induced haze, you heard Cobb grunt something sounding like «Oh shit, maker...» just before he fills you, his cock twitching and pulsing heat inside you. As you both tried to pick your breathing up, you let the very tip of your digits run silly patterns up and down Cobb’s shoulders and back. You could feel goosebumps rise in your path, to your delight.
When the Marshal finally lifted his head out of the crook of your neck, the gaze he laid upon you was so tender, so full of adoration that it took your breath away. So you just closed your eyes and brang his forehead to yours, not moving, only letting the feel of him all around you permeate your everything.
«Stay with me?»
You wouldn’t be mad if he couldn’t for any reason, or if he didn’t want to. Heartbroken and sick with anxiety, yes, but not mad. You would try to understand and let him be, you would downplay it as much as you can, you would -
«I don’t intend to go anywhere anytime, soon or not, sweetheart, I promise.» And you swear you felt him blowing out the restless breath caught in his lungs in sync with you. And you kiss him, or maybe he’s the one kissing you. Who cares?
«All well considered...» You know he’s messing with you, the little shit, but you still give him a betrayed glare. «I think I should go to the bathroom in search of a soft cloth to wet with warm water, don’t you?»
Oh, he wants to be like this then... Alright.
«But, Cobb...», you stutter, eyes filled to the brim with fake tears, «You promised...»
Fairplay, the Marshal took on his verbal defeat with an amused snort and a kiss to your forehead before living the bed to join the bathroom, making sure the door stayed open between the two of you.
In the morning, the little party of villagers Cobb had enlisted to help him salvage a moisture extractor that had started to sink into the sand in a farm not far from Mos Pelgo was very surprised to not find their Marshal waiting for them just outside of the cantina as soon as the first of the two suns started to rise upon the horizon, and even more to see him leaving your house, his shirt inside-out and hopping on one foot, busy to try to shove the second one into a recalcitrant boot. And you, dishevelled and wrapped in your gown, laughing on your threshold.
That, you know it would never change: putting a smile on your face, Cobb Vanth would never, ever failed to.
***
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hoshalicious · 11 months
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birthday boy • k.ys
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a/n : happy happy birthday to one of my favorite boys ^^. i love you so much yeosang and i hope you have a fantastic day <3 -daisy
cw / tws : food mentions
wc: 1513
your boyfriend turned twenty-four today and although he says that he is not an old man, he sure is being grumpy.
“yeosang wake up, it’s your birthday,” you practically squeal at him. he groans, looking at the clock that tells him it is currently nine forty-five in the morning.
“let me sleep in, it’s my birthday” yeosang tells you as he puts his arm over his eyes to try and keep the sleep from leaving him prematurely. you move to the bed and you sit on top of him, moving to hold his arm and rest his hand against your face.
“i made you homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast since it’s your birthday so you gotta wake up because they’re still warm” you say as you pout. he tries to hold back his grin but ultimately fails.
“okay baby, i’ll get up since you made me breakfast,” he smiles back at you, forgetting that he wanted to sleep in. you smile at him brightly.
“okay, now give me a kiss”. he moves to a seated position and gives you a gentle kiss before resting his face into the crook of your neck, not wanting to leave the familiarity of your arms just yet.
“yeosang, i love you and want to hold you too, but the cinnamon rolls are going to get cold” you pout at him and he nods, giving you another kiss before you both move to the table to eat the breakfast that you prepared for his birthday.
after the two of you ate your breakfast yeosang wanted to spend the middle of his day with you. yeosang was never the one who wanted to do much on his birthday, when it came time to celebrate the occasion, it was left to you and his seven best friends to give him a memorable and joyous birthday. you both knew that his seven best friends were coming over around dinner time to eat and have a few drinks, in the window of time before that was spent doing miscellaneous things that yeosang had came up with.
he had you acting out his favorite scenes with him from movies he enjoyed to making different colored lip balms with crayons, eyeshadow, and vaseline. you two were having so much fun together that you almost realized too late that his friends would be on the way in a few short hours.
it was around five pm now, and his friends would be there by six-thirty. the both of you began cleaning the messes you had made as you both had been all over the place and you finished, just in time to hear a series of loud frenzied knocks from his friends outside.
yeosang went to go answer the door and everyone came in, quickly filling up the living room. it is quiet for a minute or so, everyone smiling at each other. it was nice to take in the presence of your boyfriend and all the people he cared about so much.
on the other hand, yeosang was taking in the sight of all of his best friends and his partner. almost all of his favorite people are in the same room, and even though he acts like he doesn’t mind celebrating his birthday, he looks forward to the same scene every single year. yeosang never gets tired of spending time with the people he loves, but he endears it so much more when there is a day they think just solely of him and his growth.
yeosang being deep in his thoughts did not notice yunho or jongho coming towards him in the slightest, engulfing him in a hug from both sides of him. the rest of you shortly follow. yeosang is engulfed in a hug for a while before everyone decides to let up.
you, seonghwa, and wooyoung enter the kitchen, getting ready to begin cooking and baking for yeosang’s birthday. some people may ask why you don’t just buy a cake and order takeout, but everyone just likes it better this way. yeosang gets to talk with the majority of his friends and you get to steal the friends of his that can cook, and it is never a dull moment cooking and baking with them. seonghwa and wooyoung usually do the main food courses while you bake and decorate the cake. you three have grown to like the system and routine that has been created and followed over the years that you all have celebrated yeosang’s birthday.
after the food is done and set out in the living room, the only room that can seem to fit everyone, you all begin to eat and talk with each other. the conversation is mostly geared towards yeosang, some of which he probably wishes wasn’t brought up based by how he has turned shades of pink when some were telling their favorite stories with yeosang.
at the end of the meal, you excuse yourself to go get the cake. san offers to go with you, knowing that you can be clumsy at times. you happily accept his help not wanting to mess up what you worked hard on. you and san come back from the kitchen, you bring the lighters and the candles to put on the cake after san sets it down on the coffee table in the centre of the living room.
you begin to put the candles in the shape of “two” and “four” on the center of the cake. as you light the candles you say,
“i wanted to get twenty-four individual candles but yeosang said there was no way he would blow them all out so i had to get these two instead,” you roll your eyes playfully at your boyfriend who is now trying to explain to wooyoung that he is fun but he did not want the hassle of blowing out twenty-four individual candles. yeosang moves so he can blow out the candles easier and closes his eyes as he does so, opening them to you and the members smiling at him.
“oh my god guys we didn’t sing happy birthday,” you say completely shocked that you all had forgotten. it didn’t take long before everyone was obnoxiously singing happy birthday, yunho making sure that he was being the loudest with his words.
wooyoung moves closer to yeosang, “so what did you wish for?” he asked cheekily.
“you know i can’t tell you what i wished for, woo.” yeosang told him. wooyoung never fails to ask yeosang what he wished for, and yeosang never failed to give him the same answer.
wooyoung pokes his cheek out at yeosang, because “obviously he needs to give me a kiss if he can’t tell his bestfriend what he wished for on his birthday” and yeosang obliges him, knowing that he either had to give the kiss or reveal his wish.
everyone is eating the cake you prepared and talking, and within an hour and a half everyone is beginning to get ready to go home. everyone is leaving, making sure to tell yeosang happy birthday and thank you for the cake and food.
once everyone is gone, you plop down on the couch and yeosang isn’t too far behind. he clings to you on the couch just now realizing how low his social battery has gotten. you feel yeosang moves his head to look up at you and he smiles.
“what’s up yeosang? i know you want to tell me something” you say to him, seemingly able to read him at all times.
“i know i wasn’t supposed to tell you my wish but…” he tells you, lowering his voice as he ends his sentence.
“but…?” you ask, now very curious on that wish of his actually was.
“can we please binge watch the avengers until we fall asleep?” he asked you.
“yes of course” you told him, thinking it was a bit silly that he asked you, he should have known you would have said yes but when he responded “really?” you were now curious as to why he thought you would have said no.
“well, you have been doing things for me all day, so i didn’t want to force you to do this with me if you didn’t want to” he tells you. you frown at him, feeling bad that he thinks you didn’t enjoy doting on him today.
“yeosang, it’s your birthday. i wanted to do all of these things with you, and i get excited for your birthday because i get to dote on you like this. please don’t feel bad, i enjoy it”. he eases at your words, and goes to turn on the beginning of the franchise.
“also, i know i don’t have anything physical to give you for a gift, but i may or may not have rented an airbnb with an indoor theatre for three days next week so we could binge watch this there.” you say this quietly trying to not have a really giddy reaction.
“you never have to get me anything, you are enough. AND REALLY?”
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beyondthegame · 10 months
Note
hiii can i please ask for “sparks when skin brushes skin” for milan??? only if you’re still doing the prompt list shsjsjs i realized i haven’t given my bestie enough love 😪 thank you <33
There are many ways to describe an athlete. A human being, yes. Definitely. But there are difficulties that come with understanding someone who dedicates every waking moment of themselves to sport. Who dedicates their life to it. The ones who are competitive, the ones who dream of winning and feel the tingle in their bones after doing so.
But also feel the deep dread and shame when inevitable loss occurs.
That. That is not what many would understand.
Milan does. They experience it the same way you have countless times.
They have a court. You have a pitch. They can have up to hours. You have ninety minutes.
You came out with a win today. Milan suffered a loss.
Milan’s personality is easy to decipher. It’s carefree, happy-go-lucky, ‘you only live once’, ‘dance in the rain’ and ‘live in the moment’.
This is a moment they do not want to live in. Being stuck in their hotel room. A broken racket on the floor, a broken heart too.
It’s only the two of you in there, and neither of you have uttered a word. They’re sitting with their back against the wall whilst Milan let’s you take the sofa for yourself.
“Milan…” What could you possible say? ‘You played well?’ That would be a lie, and Milan would suss that out in an instant — not because they’d hear the sound of your voice but because they know their match was utter shit.
They scoff. “You don’t have to console me.” They lift their eyes up to you. “You can go, if you want.”
You do the exact opposite. You move from the sofa and take a seat next to them on the floor. You mirror them: your back against the wall, your legs outstretched.
“It just wasn’t your day,” you murmur.
“The match was done in less than an hour,” Milan counters.
“And in the next one you’ll last longer and have a smile on your face at the end.” Silence washes over you again. “I’ll even buy you a new racket.”
Their lips curl up at that. Slightly. So slightly. “That was my favourite one too.” Milan glances towards it before looking at you. “What are you doing here anyway? Not that I’m not grateful, but you have a flight in the morning and it’s already late.”
You shake your head. “A rare occasion where the two of us are playing in the same city abroad.”
“Exactly. Which is why you should be out celebrating your own win.”
Your eyes stay locked on their dark brown ones. “The two of us are getting to the pinnacle of our sports. We’re doing that together, and that means being here for you the same way you have for me.”
You know for certain that if the roles were reversed that Milan would be comforting you. With your favourite takeaway and a dance playlist to lift your spirits.
Right now, you’re just returning the favour.
You both stare at each other, and Milan makes the tiniest movement that has their hand brushing against yours.
You’re not sure if it’s the intimate and emotional situation you’re in, or something else, but the sudden feeling of electricity erupts against your skin. Not in a way that’s overbearing, but one that is delicate and tender. One that shouldn’t feel so exhilarating next to someone who’s your best friend.
You begin to wonder whether Milan has felt it too, or whether losing a tennis match had numbed them to such pleasurable feeling.
They open their mouth to speak, but no words come. But you see the look in their eyes.
Milan felt it.
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