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#a quiet birthday affair
chrollohearttags · 9 months
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unwrapped • r. braun
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surprising your husband on his birthday turns out to be much more than you’d expect.
content warning and themes: p!rn without plot, hard dom!reiner, (retired football player rei) black!fem reader, (plus size descriptors) extremely rough sex, bondage, reader wearing butt p!ug, anal play, spit kink, throat training, heavy degradation (calls reader bitch, slut, whore), squirting, daddy kink, hair pulling, pet names, (mama, poundcake, pretty girl, papa, sweet girl), gagging, pet play, breeding kink go brr, heavy overstimulation, slapping, y’all might need a sedative after reading this.
📝: I would apologize for how filthy this is going to be but I shall not. I started this last year for Rei’s birthday but I put it off but now I’m doubling back. So happiest of birthdays to my handsome baby father. The only Leo man I’d ever give a chance.
word count: 5.5K
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"So this is all for me, huh? Wow..."
it was the exact reaction that you would expect from your husband of four years..shocked, surprised and completely taken aback by your rather unique gift. For a better lack of terms. You knew him better than anyone and although he appeared intimated or not too intrigued by the sight before him, you knew his mind was churning; ablaze with extremely salacious thoughts and desires at the moment. August first..a day that he’d normally let pass without so much as a single bit of acknowledgement but tonight, you had plans to make your man’s day extra special.
Reiner Braun, although wealthy and having amassed millions as a football star during his days as a quarterback, as well as with his many business ventures nowadays, was a man of simplicity. He preferred things to be quiet, peaceful..without too much flare. Rather than lavish parties and big events, he was out working hard, assuring that his business was functioning well, even on his special day so you decided to stay at home, 'tending to other affairs'. Used to your antics, he didn’t question it too much but while he was away, you were putting together one hell of a present..one he'd soon never forget. Standing in the doorway of the foyer, a few inches taller from the Giuseppe heels on your feet and the coat that had been covering the grandiose bombshell had fallen to the floor..allowing that khaki trench coat to pool at your ankles, you’d be revealed to be sporting sexy red lingerie, akin to that of a glazed candy apple on your smooth, brown complexion. Thick thighs and ass stretching against the thin lace fabric and mere seconds from bursting out. All the more reason to rip it off! However, that wasn’t all in store..tiny nipple clamps latched on to your perky breasts, a collar laced around your throat and decorated with a heart charm. Along with a paddle sitting on the mantle.
Little did he know, more awaited him in the bedroom..that was if he exercised the restraint to not ravage you right here!
His face was flush but burning beet red and his chest was heaving pretty fast but he had to maintain his composure. “I—uh..I don’t know what to say..”
although the two of you made love many times a week, and it was a far cry from vanilla..this by far took the cake! All of this was a sudden change. You just looked so..submissive and innocent. As if you were begging to be wrecked! "Well don't just stand there and look at me, come get your present.." the words garnering a big smile from his handsome face..mumbling something underneath his breath as he stepped forward and extended his arms out to grab ahold of you. Towering above your shorter yet thicker frame, examining you..big strong hands groping your body as he sucked his teeth profusely.
"Happy birthday, papa. What do you think?"
honestly, it was hard for him to think at all right now! Seeing you so dressed up in such slutty and salacious attire, all for him. "..I think..I’m the luckiest man alive.” Garnering a slight chuckle from you both. Cupping your face between his hands, Reiner leaned down to give you a deep, searing kiss. One indicative of how hot his desire and lust for you were burning right now. But alas, there was one more stipulation to his gift..you had but only one request for your husband: "You know how you've been saying you wanted to try all of those things you saw in those videos?..well, here's your chance. I want you to treat me like your little whore tonight..do whatever you want to me."
reaching behind your back, you’d hand him the final piece of this rather interesting ensemble and that was a leash! Red, covered in latex and what he’d be using to maneuver you around at his leisure. Something he’d probably never have suggested on his lonesome. You see, Reiner was an incredibly bashful man..despite his outwardly appearance and intimidating presence, he became flustered quite quickly. You honestly thought it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. As you had done several times prior in the past, one night, the two of you were lying in bed, looking at some rather explicit videos..hoping to spice things up in the bedroom. As you’d come to discover, masturbating together became one of your favorite activities as of late. There was something about holding hands with your man as he guided you through your orgasm that made it ten times better.
However, there was one scene in particular that not only resonated with your beloved Reiner but stuck with him. As if the scene were permanently implanted in his memory. The woman, resembling your exact body type and look; a cute little lady..brown skin, thick with a little pudgy tummy, thighs that rubbed together and an ass that clapped with each movement, sporting an apron with nothing underneath as she ‘cleaned’ the house, waiting for the arrival of her doting husband. She had baked him a cake, which she’d then go on to allow him to lick off of her backside. You could visibly see his cock twitching at the sight of her. Not because he was more attracted but because she resembled you. It was only when the man arrived home, resembling Rei’s build and stature, along with his hair color did things get even more interesting. He’d then proceed to strip down, place the tie around her neck before ushering her to her knees and fucking her face. They’d wind up going rounds in that house..from the kitchen to the tall staircase to her riding him on the floor with her heels on. It was so filthy and disgusting and he couldn't stop thinking about it! Witnessing her be pounded, seeing her cry from the pleasure and get overstimulated until she couldn't spill another drop.
That night, he came so hard; twice in fact from that video alone, spilling warm, seeping nut all over his fingers..loud, lewd groans filling the room and it was then that your wheels began to churn. Reiner would never admit it, out of fear of rejection or even scaring or hurting you but he was into hardcore sex..dominating, controlling and even breaking his precious (y/n) had come across his mind constantly. Pumping you full of dick while you all but tried to push him back, pulling on your hair and neck as you begged for more, and especially being called daddy and sir..he had craved it. Practically salivating at the thought!
But now, there was no need to be afraid because you were all but throwing out the proposition. It was up to him to take it. Bringing his fingertips to your chained nipples, he'd rub them gently, garnering an adorable smile and lip biting from you.
"..whatever I want, right? Huh.."
"That's right…treat me however you want. Don’t hold back.” With that confirmation, he didn't want to waste another second unwrapping his present. Fixated on your supple breasts, Reiner groped them in his palms before shoving that tongue between your plump, red painted lips. He was completely enamored with your body and it was certain now that you wouldn't have any issue getting him to loosen up. Eventually, he'd end up shuffling you over to a nearby wall where he caressed and squeezed every inch of that perfect frame… faint moans escaping his throat whilst he continued feeding you those soft kisses. In a split second, you’d brought your hands up to undo his shirt and pants but he was quick to push them away, giving you strict instructions to place them by your side. "Don't fucking move...just let me handle it." You had never heard him speak with such a sharp, commanding tone. All but hissing the orders at you. It was so fucking sexy! So you’d do exactly that, and stood still as he moved those lips down to your neck, collarbone and eventually those perky nipples that had become his point of hyperfixation at the moment.
"Mmm...how cute.."
Intermittently flicking those clamps and chains to watch you tense up. Squeezing your thighs together, (y/n) released a very audible moan in response. Even shutting your eyes in hopes to feign off the sensation but it was of no use. It felt too good! But alas, he was merely getting started and soon, you’d come to find out just what this man was capable of when given free reign. Taking those callus fingertips, Reiner traced them even further south..finally leaving your tits, he’d make a trail down the center of your tummy; just lightly grazing the skin until he reached the elastic waistline of your panties. To which he’d make haste in shoving those digits in. Outlining the thin, lace material before sinking them inside of your warm heat. Eliciting a cry from you that in turn, made his cock thump behind the confines of those designer slacks. You’d even absentmindedly begin to rut yourself on those fingerpads.."Tell me, angel..is this really what you want? Because I don't plan on taking it easy..just so you know." You were full and well aware of that fact. Even so, you wanted him to use you to his full desire. Release every single debaucherous thought that plagued his mind onto you and let it out. Once he finished, you wanted to be broken..mind, body and spirit.
“I told you, baby..I'm your slut, do whatever you want to me. I can take it..promise.”
Hell, if anything, you just wanted him to stop all of this teasing and fuck you senseless already! Without another moment of hesitation, Reiner smirked and shoved two digits deep within that tight, quivering entrance and made certain you impaled yourself on them. Granted, this was nothing more than a mere warm up for the pounding that little pussy was about to take after all! Working them in and out, he'd make certain your head remained positioned straight forward, as he didn’t want those beautiful, brown eyes shifting anywhere except on him. Only seconds in, you had soaked his hand down to the wrist..letting those juices leak down to the Tom Ford button up and matching cuff links. You were already coming undone so he could only imagine what the remainder of the night would entail.
"Well, poundcake. Don't say I didn't give you fair warning..” mumbling into a low growl that seeped to your ears. “Because I plan on going all night..breaking this slutty little body for everything it has. That sweet cum, those pretty little moans and everything else I fucking want. My little whore, you said? From now on..you don't move, speak or breathe without my permission, understood?" This new side of him had you going crazy! Frothing all over the seat of those panties and whimpering for him like a helpless puppy. Finally, his fingering would come to an abrupt halt which left your needy cunt spasming on thin air. Once he removed them, he'd bring them up, only to shove them into your mouth roughly. “Lick them clean. Taste yourself and don’t leave a single drop.” The force of his thrashing around between your jaws causes you to emit a slight gag when he takes them to the back of your throat.
"And you answer me with only daddy or sir, got it?"
you weren’t exactly sure what was coming but all you could know for certain was that you had seemingly awoken one hell of a monster! Had you truly bitten off more than you could chew?
"Yes, daddy..."
those round doe eyes fixated on him with such an innocent glare. It was then that you’d find yourself gasping sharply as he clenched your jaw. A faint smile cracking through his lips..almost devious in a way. But just as quickly, he’d place a couple kisses atop your forehead and a few pats to your chubby cheek. "Good girl..now let's get these off." In a sudden swift movement, he'd rip that latex lingerie from your body as if it were constructed of nothing more than sheets of paper. Each article and layer falling to the flooring and pooling around you guys’ feet. Leaving you only with the corset piece, fishnets and leash around your neck. And of course those tall, clear heels. Next were his own and without so much as single care for the cost, Reiner tore the button down from his skin. Revealing those chiseled abs, all while unbuckling his pants in the process. That bulge in them had grown excessively large and honestly, he had no more restraint to tease you. He wanted some action himself! So once he freed that hard dick from its confines and bridged the gap between your bodies, he’d hoist your legs within his grasp and place your back against the wall for quick leverage, as to execute his next move. “This is gonna be fun..”
Seconds later, he was instructing you to wrap your arms around his neck for support and them around his waist. Even though he was more than culpable of supporting you with his own strength. Parting those legs, he’d expose your dripping slit and freshly waxed, fat pussy to the cool air; aligning himself with your soaking slit.
"Ooh..baby, what am I going to do with you?..."
That voice dropped to a low growl as he teased that sensitive tip against your folds. Drumming up more of that silky slick that was drooling out of that cunt. Slowly but surely, he'd ease it inside and stuff you full of that dick. The initial sensation makes you both writhe in pleasure. Before your moans could even fully escape your mouth, he'd meet them with his own and resume those deep kisses. Swarming the inside of your jaws with sloppy pecks and an exchange of saliva..even spitting into it to further lubricate. Whereas he'd be whimpering into the crook of your neck, moaning your name as a sign of pure submission, this was a whole other side to Reiner. One you had never seen but wish had awoken sooner.
"Fuck!..so good."
there was a certain intensity in his eyes, one that scared and aroused you simultaneously..fucking you into a state of trembling with only a few strokes in as you dripped down his shaft. But this angle and the way he so precisely penetrated your g-spot, you’d find yourself clawing your nails into his back whilst he impaled you on his dick. All eight and a half inches of thick girth stretching you open..akin to a piece of elastic. "That's right, you don't need to do anything else..just hold onto me and let me pound that little pussy." Your body gliding up and down the wall; jolted with every thrust and meeting his every movement. It was almost as if you were weightless within his arms. “Shit! Right there…” Your nails ripping into his shoulder blades, holding on with all the strength you had but it was of no use. He had rendered you practically useless and dumb. Nothing more than a mere flashlight for his pleasure.
"Look at you..taking this fucking dick like a good whore. You liked being fucked all rough, don't you? Answer me.”
"Yes, daddy! Give me more, please. Fuck my pussy!” Meanwhile, your little cunny could barely contain him, no matter how far he delved and how deep he pressed, it kept slipping out of that wetness. Just from those few minutes alone, those walls had been beaten sore and throbbed profusely. However, that wasn't going to stop him from fucking you senseless or making you clamp down on his shaft. Those balls rested idly against your bubbly asscheeks after slapping against them..plus,hearing you beg only further fueled his desire.
sounds of smacking skin and loud cries erupted throughout the foyer. Although he loved the noises that pretty little pussy made each time he slammed inside of it, he came to an abrupt halt. "Get on the floor, right now." Whether it was his own lack of restraint or the fact that he truly did want to take you beyond your limits today, Reiner stopped abruptly before placing you to your feet.
that long cock still erect and dripping with your juices; the tip glowing red from how sensitive it was. One hard brush and he would probably begin spurting cum. He’d stroke the shaft whilst reaching for the leash and eventually the top of your head. With an extended palm, Reiner reached over and laid a few smacks to your cheek. Instructing you to stick your tongue out and glance up at him. “Good girl..sit there on your knees until I tell you otherwise.” He needed a few seconds to decide his next move. Seeing you in such a state had his mental all fucked up. Having this much power to use you at his disposal and seeing you lose every bit of your morals just to please him made this man absolutely feral.
panting heavily, Reiner ripped the shirt off entirely. He’d then proceed to undo and coil the red necktie around his knuckles. It seemed as if his lightbulb was flashing and he had constructed a rather interesting idea. "..hands up over your head, sweetheart. Don't make me fucking wait."
Without fuss or haste, you’d raise your arms up to the wall and await his instructions. You were positioned on your knees with them spread apart to where he could visibly see that little slit drooling with slickness. That clit protruding out and waiting to be rubbed. You’d give anything to have it touched at the moment but you’d have to wait. Emitting a loud gulp, you’d hope that your lovely husband would feel compelled to somewhat tone it down and have mercy but it would seem that you had ignited quite a dormant spark inside of him. The gentle, attentive man that had always handled you with care was no more, at least for the time being. Finally, he’d retrieve that leash placed on the mantle and once he clipped it on, he’d clutch it with a vice grip. "I'm going to enjoy fucking that cute little face of yours..those lips always look so pretty wrapped around my dick. Open wide.” Tilting your head back on his command. Just seconds later, he'd lean down and spit into your quivering mouth; the sensation making you throb and melt within his grasp. That saliva trailed between your lips, down to your tongue and in turn, earned him the cutest expression with a bright smile. "Thank you, daddy."
the name causes a direct reaction from your shaft; throbbing upon hearing your voice. He couldn’t help it when you were being so gracious and eager to serve him. This was already the best birthday ever and it had only begun! Stretching those jaws, Reiner would depress your tongue with a couple fingers; as would a doctor to a patient and watch that uvula jump and the back of your mouth gape and flex as it awaited the chance to be filled. That was more than enough room and he’d waste no time in filling that empty oral cavity. “Perfect, don’t move.” With that, you’d find your empty mouth stuffed full of that swollen member. Pumped and fucked without any regard to your esophagus or breathing. Reiner would just ever so carelessly buck his hips forward as if you were nothing more than a mere sex doll. That was until you started seeping strings of clear fluid all over his shaft and tip, bringing out vibrations with your gagging and moaning. Keeping one hand on your bound wrists to keep them in place and the other on his leash, Reiner maneuvered you like a well oiled machine. Letting every liquid you emitted drip onto those marble floors. Thrusting with full force as he rutted those hips..so desperately trying to maintain his pace because you felt that damn good. Because you were not at liberty to do so, he’d alternate between his dick and those full, swollen balls; stuffing your mouth with them in exchange for jerking himself.
“That’s right. Clean me up, bitch…taste that pretty pussy and keep those eyes on me when you do it.”
he’d feed your heavy slaps to the face as his tip rested in the side of your jaw..pressing into your skin. He had zero remorse at the moment and if being used in this manner is what you wanted, he was more than happy to oblige! When his hand no longer sufficed, he’d pop that cock back into your mouth and continue relentlessly fucking your skull until that forehead pressed to his abs and you were rendered breathless. Perhaps what was most impressive to him was how you took it without so much as gagging or showing resistance. Not to mention that you battled those lashes at him while you did so. If he wasn’t careful, you’d have him spurting cum all down your throat. But he had plans to fill you up so he’d refrain. Where you were rendered unable to be vocal, Reiner certainly filled that void and let out the loudest, grovely grunts. Meanwhile, strings of saliva were pooling from the corners of your mouth and your face had a dumbed out expression..exactly as he wanted it. “It’s like you don’t even need to breathe, baby. I love you..I love how nasty you get for me..” that deep voice resonating throughout your body. But for how warm and inviting those silk like jaws felt, he was becoming rather greedy. He needed to explore more of that perfect figure…from this pretty mouth, to that dripping core and especially, that big round ass. Which had quite the surprise waiting for him. “C’mere, mama. I’m not done with you..not yet.��
reluctantly pulling out, Reiner suddenly tugged your head around with a firm grasp, returning the favor of that sloppy head with an equally messy makeout session. It was apparent by the smile on your face that you were enjoying this just as much! That’s when he’d lower your hands, untying them and command you to plant those palms to the floor, where you were made to crawl towards him. Resembling that of a cute little pup or a sexy lynx, your husband began stepping backwards before waving a finger towards you. He was leading you to the staircase, hoping to reenact that infamous scene that inspired this entire ordeal. Even then, on your hands and knees, you were enticing him. Finally, you’d find yourself stationed against those stairs, where Reiner would fling you up to the railing and raise your leg so that he could finally get inside of you. That’s when he’d find a hidden gem…literally and figuratively. A heart shaped, jeweled anal plug stuffed between those thick cheeks that were glistening with baby oil you had previously doused yourself in. Making it look even better..lighting up with excitement, Reiner would start to smirk and chuckle, spreading them apart as he watched that tight bundle of nerves flex around that metal. “Oh my gosh..” mumbling in a low growl, admiring the beautiful view. For now though, he needed some of that soaking core.
“…pretty pussy’s so fat..I know she’s wet f’r me, baby. Go ahead, bend over…” biting and licking his lips with a faint smirk. He couldn’t believe how blessed he was to have the finest woman on the planet! Balancing on those heels, (y/n) looked back whilst arching that back..bouncing in the process so that he could get a clear view of those plump lips. “Yes, just like that, baby..it looks so good.” “Thank you, daddy.” Getting more and more aroused each time you uttered that name. Placing his thumb atop that plug, he’d push it in a little further as his index teased that protruding clit, that caused you to whimper in response. “That feel good, poundcake? Ya’ like when I touch on that clit? You can answer..”
and of course, it was a given how you felt.
“Yes sir, so fucking good…please fuck me—“ but just like that, he’d halt you in your tracks by tugging on your leash and spanking your ass to silence you. “Hey, I didn't give you permission to start begging, not yet at least..” Just then, he’d place a hand in the center of your back before grabbing himself at the base and slapping that cock up against those clammy folds. He wanted to keep you waiting..punish you for your unauthorized outburst the fact was, he lacked resolve himself so seconds later..
“No…I need you to take this dick. All of it..and maybe..just maybe if you ask nicely..” you’d find yourself impaled on him and stuffed full, causing your face to go wide with shock. “I’ll let you come.” A result of both holes being filled to the brim. He didn’t even give you a chance to recuperate or adjust..he’d go full throttle. Thrusting into you once more after already abusing that little cunt once before. Needless to say, you probably wouldn’t be moving for a day or so after this but it’d be well worth it! You loved the sensation..the thrill and rush that came with being used like this. Every day could be his birthday if he treated you like this! Deep strokes made home inside of your core as his pace increased. That leg draped over the sides began to shake uncontrollably but as a way to quell you, he’d gently rub it. He was trying to have a bit of balance amid the chaos; a touch of subtlety with his rough treatment. Your body was already sore with pain and pleasure. Marked up by both his lips and hands..all signs of how obsessed he was with you. Going deeper and deeper, reaching that fated g-spot, Reiner tugged your head back and yet again spat into your mouth, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Because truthfully, he was reaching his peak. He knew the second he resumed fucking you, he’d lose his mind and rhythm. Suddenly, his thrusts would become sporadic and he’d start hammering into your spot; clapping that flesh against his pelvis and filling that million dollar mansion with raunchy noises. Getting as raw and unhinged as you two pleased. It was a private party and he’d enjoy every single second of it.
“Harder! Please..I’m so—“ although you were breaking the rules, you couldn’t help yourself as that climax grew near. You had been holding back..restraining yourself from releasing all over him but right now, you couldn’t be vexed!
“Can I come, daddy? Please, can I come for you?!”
Crying with your eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down your face. Your body was set ablaze…burning with desire and right now, he wanted to add the fuel! Spreading that ass apart, your husband kept thrusting, grinding those hips to the hilt as he buried every inch until that tip began to kiss your cervix. That aching warmth was all but stretched. However, it wouldn’t be the only orifice to be pounded into oblivion. “Since you've been so good..let it go. Right now. Come on this fucking dick..you little slut.” And the second he gave you the green light, it were as if the floodgates opened and a shower of your sweet squirt littered the porcelain steps. He had never seen a thing like it! At that moment, you couldn’t stop. Just an absolute wreck of orgasmic bliss. “F-fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck—“ banging your previously bound hands against the stairwell. There was no time to recuperate or for either of you to gather your bearings because Reiner was pulsating something fierce and there was nowhere he’d allow that seed to end up other than your womb. Only seconds later, you’d find yourself impaled again and his hard erection thrashing around inside of you.
“What? You thought we were finished? What did I say, pound cake? Not yet..” unable to even compute a reaction, you’d end frozen for a full minute..stuck from that post climatic high. He didn’t have time to wait for your recovery. Not even a full minute later, you felt the grasp on your hips tighten; nails clawing into that soft flesh as Reiner’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Shit!—coming..FUCK!” Shouting out with all his might. It was then that hot strings of creamy semen began to pour into that needy womb. And not in the form of a few droplets..no, you were being knotted with thick ropes. Ensuring that not one drop would seep out. However, if you thought that would be enough to soothe his salacious appetite and stop him, you’d be wrong. Because he had one more opening to explore before calling it quits. Even though you looked terribly spent and hell, he was getting a little lightheaded himself, he couldn’t stop until you both collapsed. Keeping that back bent to an angle and that leg outstretched, (y/n) felt that plug be removed from your second entrance and hear the metal plop to the floor…only to find that he had..replaced it with something else. But that much was obvious when you all but collapsed from that cock stretching you open. With his face flushed red, Reiner would let out a somewhat maniacal laugh. It was apparent that he was running off of pure adrenaline and addiction. Unable to cease until he claimed every inch of it and unraveled you.
“Take it…don’t tell me that little plug was just for show now. You were getting it ready f’r me. So I could fuck every part of this little body.” Practically hissing at you whilst tugging you back into hard, sporadic strokes. He still had a bit left in the chamber, surprisingly but he wasn’t going to maintain that pace for long because you were way too tight; clutching him at every movement. Even with the help of that toy, you weren’t quite conformed to his shape. Even so, he made it his mission to conquer it and break you as he had promised. He was well on his way because now, you were full blown fucked to tears…crying and pleading for him to come in you once more. He had gotten his point across and you loved the pain far too much to want him to stop. But you knew your body couldn’t withstand this brutal fucking. “P—please..come—ahh..” letting out a shrill whimper and pathetic cries. Your nails barely even graze the wood that you had a vice grip on earlier. Despite the fact that you had initiated this, he knew you’d never know when to quit and seeing as how that spasming bundle of nerves was determined to drain him dry, he’d grant you permission one last time to let go..
“On three..together. You know what to do..”
and like that, the two of you ascended to the highest peak together. Howling to the ceiling and shrieking each other's names as you spilled another puddle and poured the remainder of that nut into you..
“F-fuck..you’re so full..so goddamn full of my nut.”
“Yes, come in this ass, daddy..thank you so much.”
reaching back to stroke the side of his face before collapsing to your knees, where you trembled violently. All a result of the insane lovemaking that had just transpired. As one final act of submission, you’d run your tongue along his thigh, swiping up any remnant of those juices you let out all over him, before sticking your tongue out like an obedient dog. How could he possibly ask for a better gift than this?! Grasping your chin, Reiner leaned down with tears of his own plaguing his hazel eyes and shoved his tongue in your mouth. As if he didn’t want to let go. “Thank you, baby..thank you for the best fucking gift ever..”
and there was no way this day could ever be outclassed for as long as he lived!
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@angelktski @crazychaoticizzy @daisynik7 @spaceforher
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nexysworld · 3 months
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Summary: Leon is sent on a mission to carry out a hit for the government. He hated these missions the most, but worst of all you weren't supposed to be there. You weren't supposed to see him. Pairing: ID!Assassin Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, canon typical gore, graphic depictions of murder, comfort sex, mild dubcon, unprotected sex, fem!receiving oral sex, soft sex, angsty sex, hurt/comfort/hurt, dark content, descriptions of wound dressing. WC: 5.2k
A/N: This was a birthday fic for the wonderful @elfven-blog. <3 Title from the lyrics to the song Sextape by Deftones. Edit: I also have a bot based on this fic now: Character AI | Spicychat
Read on A03 || Ask Box || Masterlists
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Cool air bristled the hairs on the back of his neck, limbs tingling with the typical anticipation of what came next. Hits weren’t his favorite type of mission, not by a longshot, he wanted to save people, not kill them. But with experience came a certain professional numbness and a way to compartmentalize. It didn’t help that the locale for this affair was in the dead center of a suburban upper class neighborhood. Every home had that same limestone brick or white overlapping paneling. Every door the same mahogany brown, tacky lawn gnomes, overly green grass, white picket fences – the works. The possibility of witnesses was high, the escape routes limited. 
Regardless, Leon was a professional, and he would make it work. He always did.
Tilting his wrist, he looked down at the gold rolex, it was a little past 2:30am. He listened closely, to ensure there was no movement inside. The double windowed back doors were his point of entry. The brass knobs were old, the locks inside not quite as intricate as modern ones, all it took was a good smack against the swiss army knife he’d jammed into it for the lock to click open. The door opened quietly, he made sure to not close it completely behind him to ensure he could make his escape. 
The house had an eerie quiet over it, almost like the universe knew what was about to happen. Leon cracked his neck and let out a breath, careful to not touch anything as he moved throughout the lower floor, clearing each room. The kitchen was pristine, nothing out of place on the island or counter. There was no homely smell of food, only the lingering scent of some harsh cleaner. Not a sign that anyone had even been down there within the past several hours – a good thing, he noted. Through the archway came the living room, he had been hopeful someone had opted to sleep on the couch, separate targets were easier targets. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t so lucky. 
The plush gray sectional was untouched, not so much as a divet into the cushion. The TV remote lay on the dark oak coffee table. Unlike the kitchen, this room felt more homely. The faint smell of some fruity air freshener was all over, the cherry walls were lined with gold plated frames of the family. 
His target was some small town politician, Jackson Moore, normally somebody not noteworthy to the government in the slightest, but he made the unfortunate mistake of shaking hands with terrorists, facilitating the sale of some new viral invention through the local pharmacies. The idea of another Raccoon City incident made his stomach turn. He wasn’t sure who he held more anger for, the people like this person who’d bring it about, or the government that he knew turned a blind eye until now – the same government who wouldn’t make the effort to save the people who uphold it. 
He shook his head, and pushed his bangs back refocusing for a moment. He scanned over the pictures. Most normal family outings, some graduation photos and holiday ones in there. Hunnigan had told him beforehand that all of the kids were off to college, none due back for several more weeks. The only targets in the house were Mr. and Mrs. Moore. 
There was only one more room on the bottom floor, where he was sure his victims were, the master bedroom. Leon made his way over, silently padding down the short hall staring at the door. It was cracked, the sound of light snoring and the smell of mint wafting from the room. He peeked inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dark room, a string of moonlight the only thing illuminating the sleeping lumps on the bed. 
He tested the door, it squealed slightly as it opened making him freeze. One of the sleeping forms moved slightly rolling over. He waited, still as a statue until he was sure that both still remained asleep before sliding himself through the narrow opening he’d made. 
Looming over the sleeping forms, he pulled his gun out from it’s holster attached to his waist. Even with the silencer, he knew he needed to be quick. One shot would wake the other, and then it was a matter of speed. He cocked the pistol, taking a few more steps towards the unaware persons before him. The gun felt heavy in his hand, but he lifted it anyway, deciding to start with the official target first. 
Will the trigger pulled back, the room lit up for a split second with the bang of the gun. Time slowed as he watched the man’s body jolt slightly, blood splattering onto the pillow, the walls. The smell of gunpowder and iron hit his nose. The man’s fingers twitched slightly before his movement stopped. Just like he had expected, his wife was awake instantly, though no noise came from her. 
Wide eyed, she stared at Leon, then down at her husband next to her. Her mouth opened like she was trying to scream, but the noise was caught in her throat, tears welled in the woman’s eyes. Blood had splattered onto her too, some chunks of brain along with it dripped from her curlers onto her lap. Her trembling hands reached over to her husband, “Jacks.” She whispered, reaching over and putting her hand on his deformed face. “Jacks.” She leaned over the man, trying to scoop the bits and pieces of him back together. 
Leon wanted to feel sorry for her, wanted to wonder if that’s how someone might react to his death some day. But he pushed those feelings aside, she was a target, culpable in everything just as her husband was. He lifted the gun again, pointing it at her.
As she looked at him, eyes wide with fear, her mouth formed the shape of a word. He didn’t need to hear it to know it was a plea. He pulled the trigger again.
Deadshot, like putting down an animal, between the eyes. 
Her body crumbled over itself as she slumped forward onto the bed, the back of her head exploded open like a volcano of bone, blood, and brain matter. 
Not dwelling on it,  he put his finger to the device in his ear. “It’s done, Hunnigan.” “Good work Leon. I’ll make sure that –”
“Hey mom, you still up? I thought I heard something.” 
The soft voice pulled Leon from his conversation, there were footsteps out in the hallway and the sound of a lightswitch clicking on. ‘Shit.’ He cursed to himself inwardly.  He took a few steps back from the door, whispering to Hunnigan. “You said there were no other targets here.” “There aren't –” “The daughter is home.” “Does she know you’re there?” “No, not yet.” 
There was a moment of silence on the line before she spoke again. “Leon.” Hunnigan’s voice was serious, she knew him well enough after all these years to know his thoughts. “Leave no witnesses.” “There won’t be, she doesn’t even know I'm here.” The sound of the fridge opening and closing indicated the girl’s location.  “Everyone at the location is a target, Leon. Everyone at the location is a witness.” “Not if she – “ “Leon, this is an order.” “I can wait for her –” “Leon –” 
“She doesn’t have to die.” “Dad, is that you?” The sound of his voice, despite him doing his best to stay at a whisper, must've alerted the girl.  There was shuffling around on the other end of the line, the next voice he heard made his blood cold. The head of the D.S.O shouting into his ear. “Kennedy, this is an order, kill her! Complete the mission. Do you understand me?”
“Understood.” He said flatly, disconnecting from the call. In a worse stroke of bad luck, the door to the bedroom swung open nearly at the same time. 
And there you were. 
Glass shattering as it hit the floor, water splattering around as the light from the hallway lit up the room from the opened door. You trembled in place as you processed the sight of things. Leon was frozen where he stood too. You were an adult, but young, more importantly innocent in all of this. Rarely in his forced-on-him career has he had to kill someone completely innocent. Usually it was the partners of criminals, civilians caught in crossfire. But never someone as young as you, never in a situation so targeted.
He hardly registered the shriek you made before you bolted. Acting purely on instinct he took off after you, the delay of his own shock didn’t matter much when he noticed the slimy trail of bloody footprints from where you’d ran through the glass left in the hallway. His own boots crunching it against the ground as he moved.  If you had been smart, you’d have turned for the front door, or even the back. Instead, nearly sliding on your own blood you went for the staircase, the one route that would trap you on the upper floor. You let out a yelp of pain, trying your hardest to only use your less injured foot to bounce up the stairs as quickly as you could, the blood matting down into the carpet with each step. 
It didn’t take long for Leon to catch up, thumping up each one loudly as his boots made contact. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t take his gun out, why he was even letting you attempt this unwinnable escape, he also didn’t know. Maybe it was just delaying the inevitable. 
He reached out for you just as you made it to the top of the stairs. A simple shove was all it took to send you flying into the decorative hall table that waited at the top. A sickening crack was heard as your head collided with the dark wood, knocking it over as you rolled over with a groan, dazed from it. Managing to prop yourself up on your elbows, Leon could see the trickle of blood that began to run down your eye and cheek, along with the starting to swell shiner from your high-speed table collision. 
You scuttled backwards, as best you could, haphazardly tossing the vase that had fallen at him. It missed, and went crashing onto the stairs. Tears mixed with the blood on your face, diluting the color, only leaving the dry specs stuck there. You looked pathetic and terrified in a way that made Leon’s heart twist.
“P-please… don’t.” You pleaded, putting your hand out and up as if that simple gesture would be enough to stop him, distance him from yourself. 
He couldn’t do this, at least not like this. He kneeled before you, cupping your uninjured cheek in his hand. “Shhhh. Shhh.” 
“P-please… I won’t tell any–” “It’s ok,” he cooed. “It’s not my style to hurt pretty girls, you know that?” He added as he scooped you up from the ground bridal style. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Getting his DNA all over you, getting your blood on him. This wasn’t a clean kill, this wasn’t what the upper brass wanted. For the moment though, he didn’t care. “Where’s your room, Sweetheart?”
You didn’t point or make a sound, your eyes darted from him to the cracked door next to him and then back to him as you shook in his hold. He wedged it open the rest of the way with his foot, before gently placing you down on your bed. It didn’t look right, all the blood staining into the fresh and plush sheets. It was different than your parents downstairs, the whole room screamed you. From the decor on the walls, to the laptop on the nightstand, your college hoodie hanging off the back of the chair at your desk. More reminders that you didn’t deserve this. 
Before you could, he swiped the phone off of the side table, stuffing it into his pant pocket. “I know you hurt right now.” He said sweetly, “Give me a minute and we’ll get you all cleaned up, alright?” He gave you a moment to process his words. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He asked himself, as he held your hand, patting your arm gently. He could see the confusion in your eyes as the gears in your head turned to try and make a decision – timidly you nodded. He shot you his signature smile. “Atta girl. Stay here for me, no funny business.” Pointing a finger gun at you before he slipped out into the hallway and into the upstairs bathroom. 
The suddenly bright lighting stung his eyes, he saw himself in the mirror, your blood speckled onto his jacket, some dried to his face. He looked rough, a cold sweat broken out onto his face, blue eyes distant looking back at himself. He splashed some cold water onto his face to calm his nerves before digging around to see if there was anything he could use to alleviate some of your pain, even if temporarily. The medicine cabinet was well stocked, though nothing would be enough to really combat the pain of your cracked head and torn up feet. He bit his lip as he grabbed some bandages and the bottle of peroxide. 
First aide wasn’t really his specialty, but he knew enough from training. Along with the other supplies, he filled the empty cup on the counter with warm soap water, and took the washcloth with him. 
To his surprise you were exactly where he’d left you, splayed out on the bed, looking scared and exhausted. Your head rested against the pillow, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m going to take a look at your feet first.” Not that he really gave you the option, but you nodded in return. Leon was no stranger to gore, guts, and the rest, but something about them gave him pause. There was so much blood he could hardly see what was skin and what was glass. “It might sting just a little.” He assured, pouring the cold liquid out onto your feet. You hissed and squirmed a bit, but he placed his arm over your ankles to keep them still, watching as the peroxide bubbled, clearing away the redness of the blood. Small pieces of glass fell with it onto the now stained carpet. He opted to speak to you, see if he could get you to calm down some more while he worked, pouring more over the wounds. “You’re in college?” There was something about you that was indescribable to him, familiar to him, and he wasn’t sure why. 
“Yeah.” Finally you answered with words, voice barely above a whisper.  “Shouldn’t you be at school then? I thought the semester was still going.” He as he checked you over for any more obvious glass. When it was clear the peroxide had done it’s job, he took the bandages, gently wrapping them around your feet, gauze padding them. 
“D-dropped out.” You squeaked out. “Last minute decision, had to come home.” He tied off the bandage before moving to look at your face. “School’s not for everyone. You’re probably better off without it.” Leon dipped the washcloth into the cup, wringing it out over the carpet, not really caring about the mess. He dabbed it gently against your injured face, helping to remove the remaining mess and to get a better look. Luckily the cut above your eye seemed superficial and the blood had stopped running, it was just a matter of cleaning up the  dried mess that was left over. He was careful around the tender purple skin as he cleared as much as he could. “You have a boyfriend you leave back at school?” 
“No. Never had one at all actually.” You replied, wincing when he accidentally touched a painful spot.  “Never had one?” He asked more for himself than as a real question to you. ‘Hasn’t finished school, never had a boyfriend. This is so fucked up. She can’t be any older than Ashley was…’ He thought to himself, debating whether the court marshalling would be worth letting you go. In the same train of thought, he considered what would happen to you if he did. The government would probably send someone else just like him, someone less soft. He bristled at the thought, sitting up straight on the side of your bed. “That’s a shame, I would’ve thought a cute girl like you would be drowning in guys asking her out.”  “Not really” You seemed to relax a bit now, well as relaxed as a person could be in your state. He could still tell from your blown pupils and 1000 mile stare that you were still in shock. Probably a good thing. “My parents are… were, strict.” Your face contorted like you were about to be sick at the memory. 
Leon went back to stroking your cheek gently for comfort. “So no boyfriend, ever have your first kiss? First time?” Now that he had a better chance to really look at you, all cleaned up he realized who you reminded him of. Not so much Ashley, she was more strong willed and you didn’t quite look the part either. It wasn’t just the age, no…your voice, mannerisms, the way you looked. It was so very much her. Someone he hadn’t thought about since before even Raccoon City.
“Yeah. Wasn’t very good, some drunk frat boy.” You admitted leaning slightly into his touch. Silence passed between you both, nothing but the ceiling fan whirring above you. An automated air freshener spritzed roses and lilac into the air, barely covering the distinct peroxide and blood smell. Leon was surprised when you finally spoke again. “Why did you do it?”
The look on your face gutted him more than it should have. “I had to.”  “Because of his job?” “Something like that, yeah.”  “Did he deserve it?”  “Yeah.”
You nodded, turning your eyes away from the ceiling to look at him. There was another tense silence before you spoke again. “Are you going to kill me too?” 
He felt a chill ran over his body at the question. He leaned forward pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hand up to stroke your hair. “I don’t want to.” It wasn’t a real answer and he knew that, but it was honest.  “Why are you being nice to me?”  “I told you, I don’t like to hurt cute girls.” “That’s not it.” 
How you read him for filth like that he’ll never know. “You remind me of someone.” He leaned back just enough to look at you again, but kept your faces close, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath on his face.  “Who was she?”  “My first girlfriend.” He admitted.  “What happened to her?”  “We broke up.” He said with a short laugh. “Right before my very first day as a cop.” While the conversation was far from appropriate for the situation, he supposed it worked to calm you down more as he felt you relax into the bed. His internal struggle was still playing tug-of-war with his psyche, not sure of how to proceed.
The piece in his ear picked up with some static before Hunnigan’s familiar voice was heard. “Leon are you there?” 
He ignored her in favor of continuing to dote over you, hand gently running through your hair, taking in your features more. That trepidation never left your eyes – he understood it. He probably looked psychotic right now, a murderer who was being eerily kind. He was self aware enough to know that much. 
“Leon, we haven’t heard a status report. Has the last target been eliminated?” She spoke loud enough this time that while it couldn’t have been above the lowest whisper for you, it was obvious you heard it, eyes widened again, mouth opening slightly. To keep you quiet he leaned forward pressing his lips to yours, a soft kiss you didn’t really return. “Stay quiet for me, ok?” He mumbled against your lips, before sitting up again. He considered replying to Hunnigan, but looking down at you, he took his earpiece out, tossing it to the other side of the room instead. 
Hey eyed you again, before adding another kiss. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’ He reprimanded himself, as he placed another this time to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then jaw. Another on your neck for good measure. ‘I should’ve done it the second she opened the door. I should’ve done my job.’ Despite his mind’s dialogue he continued now at your collar bone. ‘Like ripping off a band aid…. I can’t let her last moments be like that.’ He began to rationalize as he looked up at you. “Let me make you feel good.” 
“Wh-what?”  “You deserve better than a drunk frat boy. Let me make you feel good.” He repeated.  “Why?”  “Because I want to.” He could clock the nervousness in your voice immediately. “You can say no.” He added. “I’m not a rapist.” 
“A-are you going to kill me if I say no?”  “No, of course not.” Again, it wasn’t technically a lie. He wouldn’t be doing it because you declined, but he felt mild disgust with himself for side-stepping the reality of the situation again. ‘It’s better this way though. For her.’ 
“Ok.” You said, nodding at him to continue.  He treated you like glass, gently working your thin tank top up and over your breasts. He continued by kissing each one tenderly before taking your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until he felt it pebble. When you whimpered at the feeling, he began to suck on it, kneading your other breast with his hand. When he pulled himself off with a pop, he looked down at you, lips parted, eyes closed. Enjoying so much despite him having done so little. Adorable. 
He ran his thumb along your bottom lip until he saw those pretty eyes crack open before capturing your lips again, taking the chance to slip his tongue inside once parted. You were sloppy with inexperience, but tasted like dessert, sweet. It made his cock twitch against his pants. He groaned slightly into your mouth, ignoring his own need. Pulling away he let you catch your breath, giving him the chance to move down your body one kiss under your breasts. The next above your naval – stomach contracting slightly. He added one more above the hem of your night pants. 
He looked up at you, silently checking with you if it was alright to continue again. When you nodded, he helped you out of the pants. Gently tugging them down from the waist band, lifting each separate leg himself, careful to not hurt your already injured feet. “You alright?” “Y-yeah.” 
“Let me know if anything hurts, ok?” “Ok.” “Good girl.” 
Leon tugged his leather jacket off discarding it on the floor before rolling up the sleeves of his button up. He claimed a spot between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder for better access to what he was about to do. He gave a reassuring kiss to your thigh, using a free hand to part your folds, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently. He eyed you watching as you melted under his touch, soft whimpers tickling at his eardrums. “Such a pretty girl.” He cooed, replacing his thumb with his tongue, swirling it around the sensitive bud. 
He had to grind down on the bed himself to relieve some of his own tension, reminding himself to keep his focus on you. His grip on your leg tightened as you arched your back, squirming more and more against his touch.  “God…oh god…” You chanted, head tossed back, the leg draped over his shoulder kicking at his back. He knew you were close when your voice cracked, soft gasps escaped your lips. He continued lapping at you as you ground against his face, letting you ride through your orgasm – only stopping when your hands made purchase in his hair to get his attention. “C-can’t…can’t.” 
Pulling back, he wiped your slick off his chin with his forearm, looking down at you. He watched as your chest heaved slowly, returning to a normal rhythm. Your uninjured eye was lidded less with shock and more with that familiar coming down of pleasure. He went to move back when you grabbed his arm, looking directly at him. “What about you?”  He was a little shocked by the words, your concern for him. “I said I wanted to make you feel good.” He chalked it up to your likely traumatized and now lust hazed brain. “Don’t worry about me.” Leon made the motion to move again.  “Wait.” You called, grip on his arm tightening. “What if… what if I want to?” 
He didn’t move, unsure of how to respond. He’d already fucked up the mission, already covered you in his DNA, yours on him – but he couldn’t do what you were asking. That was too far.
“P-please?” You choked out, tears now welling in your eyes, spilling over and staining your cheeks again. 
And just like that he was taken back to that day again, right before Raccoon City. A night he swore was the worst of his life, until he knew better. Sitting there across from him, begging him not to go – you sounded just like her too, like she was frozen in time beneath him. Even worse, this was the opposite of what he wanted, he wanted to make things easier for you, relax you.  “I just want to be close, please? Please?” You were full on crying now, face scrunching up, barely able to catch your breath.  “Ok. Ok.” He said, leaning down to kiss you again. “Shhh, don’t cry. Don’t cry. How do you want me to take you?” Your words came out between sniffles and hiccups. “Any way, you want.” 
He nodded, sitting back enough to help you sit up, slipping your shirt off all the way. “Can you flip over for me? Lay down flat on your stomach.” He helped you comply with the command, still careful of your injuries. He could see the bandages on your feet had turned a slight pink. Once you were laid out the way he wanted, relaxed, face down into the pillow, he worked his own shirt off, tossing it over in a pile atop his jacket. His gun was removed from the holster, he was careful to lock the safety, discarding it with his other items. He left his pants on, undoing them enough to free his half hard cock, the head still weeping. 
He spat in his hand, giving himself a few good tugs, feeling himself hardening fully again. “You ready?”  “Yeah.”  He crawled forward, gently lifting your butt up just enough for him to line himself at your soaking entrance. He grunted when he pressed in, you sucking him in warm and wet. He let you take a moment  to relax down again as he leaned forward, pressing the entirety of his bare chest to your back, sinking his cock in slowly until he was buried all the way inside of your heat. 
He kissed up your shoulders, and neck, rolling his hips into your slowly. “God you’re tight baby.” He whispered against your ear. He didn’t have the heart to rail you into the mattress, wanting to abate your request for closeness, intimacy.  “S’big…” You lazily mumbled into the pillow.  “I know, I know.” He crooned your neck just enough for him to lock your lips together again. “But you’re doing so good, taking me so well.” Letting you rest, he returned to focusing on the motion of setting a steady but not too rough pace, angling himself so that he hit that spot inside of you that had you whimpering again. He rewarded the noises by rolling you both onto the side, where he could wrap an arm around you like a tight hug, leg gently pulled over over his own so he had a better angle.  Likely for the best, Leon was close already, he slowed down more, returning to simply rolling his hips as he trailed his hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your naval and thighs before rubbing at your clit for a bit as he kissed and sucked softly against your neck. He fucked you like he would’ve done to her, like you were his lover, the most important thing to him. 
Your velvet walls felt like heaven as they squeezed against him, closer and closer to your own second orgasm. “That’s it baby.” He whispered hotly against your ear. “One more time for me, ok?” He sped up his fingers, feeling you tighten around him so much that he nearly felt his own eyes roll back. “G-good girl.” He praised, gripping your hip to speed up his own movements, his balls tightening as he came, cock throbbing as spurts of his seed painted your insides. 
Leon held you like that for a while, curling in on you, offering soft praises as he nuzzled into your neck from behind. He didn’t move a muscle until your breath evened out completely, and he could tell by the low thrum of your heartbeat that you were incredibly close, if not already asleep. He looked up at the clock on the nightstand – 4:45am it read. He had about 20 more minutes max before someone from HQ would be sent in as backup, now that he’d been MIA for so long. 
Now fully soft, he gently pulled himself out of you, and carefully rolled off the bed. He watched you for any more signs of movement as he buckled back up and redressed. There was that eerie silence settling over the house again, he felt heavy with the weight of the evening crushing against him like an invisible force. He wished for a moment that the world would swallow him up where he stood so he didn’t have to face his responsibilities, the consequences. 
You looked peaceful laying there. He knew it was just the exhaustion, shock, and grief, that kept you tugged under the waves of unconsciousness, but for his own sake he pretended you were in a truly relaxed state. Moreso, he was glad you wouldn’t experience any more of that pain or fear tonight.  Leon clicked the safety off the gun, watching you for any signs of movement. Not even a twitch as he cocked the gun again. He walked over, sitting at the side of the bed again, eyeing you over one more time. It felt like he was saying goodbye to a lot of things at that moment, his ex all over again, your future,  another piece of the man he wanted to be.  “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this, you know?” He whispered, mostly to himself as he pressed the barrel of the pistol to the pillow. 
He couldn’t look this time. He wouldn’t look this time.  His chest tightened, having to take a moment to stop the bile trying to work its way up, and the urge to cry that had him wanting to heave against the floor. He grabbed his earpiece as he made his exit. 
“This is Kennedy to HQ – the last target has been exterminated.” 
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windywriter · 6 months
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Birthdays in hell
Satan: Would probably take mc barhopping all across gehenna. But I also think Ppyong would invite his entire family to celebrate. Poor mc would be swarmed by redlumps wishing them well. Even jjyu would hold his tongue, just a little though. I also think Belial would give me a little statue of jjyu like his artifact or a record he thinks they'd like. Zagan would give a special talisman he made. Paimon would probably give them a bunch of stickers and bubble gum. Leraye I feel would give them a headless teddy bear. Astaroth we haven't seen much yet but I feel like he'd be good at recommending books. Sitri thought Solomon's birthday was on a different day but he just reasons that he must have misremembered. He makes the most delicious tea for mc. And that's not even accounting for all the well wishes and gifts MC would receive from the citizens.
Mammon: He'd probably throw MC an entire parade in celebration. Anything they'd want he'd get for them. I also feel like he'd offer to make their birthday a national holiday too. Hell, why not make their entire birth month a holiday? After all Mammon owns everything. But if mc says that would be too much, he is willing to downsize to the aforementioned national holiday. Eligos would have a field day teaching MC the ways of being cute. Also bihmet would probably go around asking for money from others saying it's "for Mc's birthday fund".
Leviathan: I feel like mc's birthday would be a quiet and formal affair. This is mainly because they might raise Levi's envy. There is a strict rule where no one can wish mc a "Happy birthday" until Leviathan does it. As for gifts they're mainly piled up in front of MC in the throne room. Although they have to be careful with that as well lest Leviathan become envious of how happy their gift makes Mc. Mc's birthday always sets a new record for how many times leviathan has someone hung in a day. But overall Leviathan is notably happier for the entire day which is more than enough for everyone.
Beelzebub: I always feel like there's a non-zero chance of Beel either coming in half way through the party with his gift for mc, or stealing them away for an impromptu trip. Bael usually tries to set up a formal party but Beel tends to crash it. Beel has also been strictly banned from making food after the incident with dantalion last year. But he always manages to sneak his food in somehow...
As for the other kings I can't really say, but I feel like if mc started crying from happiness Lucifer would be more than happy to help them.
BONUS Minhyeok:
Minhyeok has probably celebrated almost every birthday with MC since their childhood. I feel like he would always save up as much money as he could for mc's birthday. He seemingly always knew what to get them even without mc even asking/hinting what they wanted. Makes a feast for them and might pull a few favors if MC wants to do something special. That man would catch the moon and stars for mc if they asked.
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slutforsilverfoxes · 6 months
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Secret’s Out
[A/N: Some fluff in honor of our favorite man’s birthday 🖤]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader
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You love celebrating your partner’s birthday. An excuse to pamper your favorite person more so than usual, and they can’t refuse because it’s their special day? Amazing.
Your partner, on the other hand, is less than enthusiastic about the day. “It’s just another day,” he always tries to play it off. “Another year around the sun gifting me with more grays and wrinkles to prove it.”
You’ve adjusted to his understated manner, toned down your celebratory whims to make his day special in smaller, less overt ways.
“I’m not making a big deal about it,” you’d promised your first birthday together with a smile, catching the raised eyebrow you were greeted with when he spotted the lavish breakfast spread out over the kitchen table.
“Still not making a big deal. You needed a new one,” was your excuse some birthdays later when he opened a carefully wrapped box to find a new watch with words from your wedding vows engraved on the back.
“This one is so not-a-big-deal,” you’d affirmed just last year, presenting him with two tickets to a five day island getaway. “It’s November in DC and I miss the sun, that’s all.”
And so the years have gone, keeping Aaron Hotchner’s birthday under wraps much to the chagrin of his team. Garcia, to her credit, has made a Herculean effort to keep the date quiet as requested, or perhaps she’s sworn everyone to secrecy by now. Inexplicably, Aaron finds a single cupcake waiting on his desk annually.
Aaron’s birthday was a quiet affair, that is, until this year.
The case your husband had been on had spanned many more days than expected, and you’d been forced to postpone the family trip you had planned to celebrate his birthday. So here you are, waiting in his office for the team’s return. Chatter suddenly breaks the silence of the bullpen, the unmistakable sound of Aaron’s baritone mixed with the many voices of your found family.
The kids are tearing out of the office before you even rise from the couch.
Your toddler reaches the BAU team first, and Aaron’s quick to drop his go-bag in favor of catching the pig-tailed bundle of energy midair as she squeals out an excited, “Happy birthday, Daddy!”
Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, and your stomach swoops at the FBI’s best kept secret being so blatantly revealed by the littlest Hotchner.
But then Aaron’s propping your daughter on his hip and pressing kisses to her cherubic cheeks while she giggles at the onslaught, and Jack is wrapping his arms around his dad’s waist, mumbling a “Welcome home, Dad, happy birthday,” into his dress shirt, and Aaron is squeezing both of your kids like their very presence imbues life into him, and all is right in the world. You take note of money quietly exchanging hands behind Aaron greeting your kids. Evidently, Garcia had kept the date a secret.
The team splits up to drop luggage and paperwork on their desks, and Aaron looks up to the stairs leading to his office then, his smile somehow growing wider when he spots you standing there, a blush dotting your cheeks. “You know there’s no stopping these two when their hero comes home,” you offer sheepishly, and he angles his head to beckon you closer. You’re by his side in an instant and pressing a kiss to his lips even as your children- spurred on by Uncle Derek and Uncle Spencer- protest with a chorus of ews and elaborate gagging noises.
“You were just giddy about me kissing you,” Aaron points out to your daughter whose face is screwed up in feigned disgust from her front row seat on Daddy’s hip.
“It’s not the same as you kissing Mom,” Jack huffs with the gusto of an all-knowing pre-teen, so his dad rolls his eyes and pecks your lips again for good measure.
“May I propose,” Rossi interjects, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your husband’s, “dinner at my place to celebrate?” Aaron opens his mouth to protest, but Dave lifts a hand and clarifies, “Ah- celebrate closing the case, Aaron. It’s not all about you.” He shoots you a wink and you bite your lip to hide a smile.
“Up to you, birthday boy,” you murmur, lightly running your hand across his chest, but your kids and his team are looking so hopeful that Aaron knows it’s really not up to him, after all.
“Okay,” he relents with a laugh, nodding his head. “Thank you, Dave, that’s really kind of you to offer.”
The night turns out to be an absolute blast full of good food, great drinks, and wonderful company. Your little one is currently sound asleep in her Uncle Spencer’s lap while he stumps her older brother and JJ and Will’s sons with his latest magic trick. Penelope and Derek are out on a secret mission (they’re getting a cake) that Aaron is completely in the dark about (he totally knows). The rest of you are scattered about the living room, chatting and sipping your drinks while you await the secret agents’ return, and Sinatra croons on in the background about having a love to keep him warm. Sidling up to Aaron, you rest your head on his sturdy shoulder and murmur a simple, “Hey.”
He turns to press his lips to your forehead and utters a, “Hey, you,” in return.
“Sorry the cat’s out of the bag after all these years,” you say, absentmindedly toying with the collar of his tie where he’s loosened it a bit.
“Oh, honey, don’t apologize,” Aaron admonishes lightly, shifting his position so he can snake an arm around you and you can settle more snugly into his side. “Honestly, I’m amazed we kept it under wraps for so long.”
You let your hand drift further upwards, now tracing a little heart into Aaron’s cheek with your index finger. Emily clearly used a heavy hand in her role as bartender. “Really?”
Your husband curls his hand around your wrist to guide it closer to his mouth and presses a kiss to the pad of your finger. “Really,” he affirms. “Y’know, these guys had a bet going about my birth date but…” He leans closer like he’s about to let you in on a secret, and you sit up straighter, all business. “Dave and I had a bet going about who would spill first. That little chatterbox,” he murmurs, inclining his head toward your sleeping toddler, “or her chatterbox mom.”
“I resent that.”
“I know.”
With a huff, you kiss his cheek, then his nose, and then his lips. “But I’ll let it slide since it’s your birthday.”
The lights in the living room grow dim then, and Penelope enters with a small cake in hand, her face lit up by a ring of candles. “Derek said we shouldn’t mortify you by singing, but I couldn’t resist at least getting candles, sir.” She sets the cake down on the coffee table before taking a step back as the rest of your family gathers around. Your little girl barely stirs in Spencer’s arms when he approaches, while Jack slips into the spot next to his dad and instructs, “Make a wish!”
“Oh, buddy,” Aaron laughs warmly, looking around at your big family with a smile before kissing the top of his head and affectionately squeezing your knee, “what more could I wish for?”
__________
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies @callm3c0nfus3d
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kingkatsuki · 1 year
Text
Sealed With A Kiss | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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Didn’t think I’d write anything for Bakugou’s birthday and then a random idea popped into my head and I wrote it all in one sitting. It’s been months since I’ve started and finished a fic, so please be kind! And Happy Birthday, Bakugou!💕
Summary: Not everyone wants the quirk that they're given. Ever since you were a child, you were cursed with a quirk where you’re able to see how someone will die when you kiss them. Unsure on whether your quirk is telling the future, or sealing their fate with a kiss of death, its safer for you to completely give up on finding love. Coming to terms over the years that you’ll have to watch all your friends get married and settle down, while you spend the rest of your life alone. That is, until you run into Bakugou Katsuki.
Warnings: 18+, minimal plot, mostly smut, no beta, praise, dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, public sex, protected sex, not as angsty as I thought it’d be!
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 6.4k.
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What would you do if you could tell someone the exact time and way that they’re going to die? Would you share that information with them, hoping that they can get their affairs in order and live those final moments to the fullest before kicking the bucket? Or would you keep quiet about it, holding onto the information as though it's a sordid little secret that needs to be buried and taken to your own grave?
Not that it matters anyway, because even if you held that information no one would believe you anyway, would they? Telling someone that they’re going to die in a car accident when they don’t even drive, or that they die during a snowstorm in July. It’s like people only ever believe what they want to hear, and it’s the same reason why even your best friend doesn’t know about your quirk. Imagine if you’d proved it, writing down your prediction and then waiting for it to happen. Counting down the days like you’re waiting for an exciting event, not waiting for someone to die. And then what? Someone dies and people want you to do it again, to prove that it wasn’t just a fluke. And then what? You’re kissing every single person that comes along just to tell them that they’re not going to make it to their next birthday?
Quirks should be a blessing, but yours was most definitely a curse.
“You know you really should start trying to settle down, you’re not getting any younger.” You could practically feel the disdain in their tone as you tried to avoid the question by taking a sip of your drink.
“You act like she’s going to die soon,” Your best friend Tatami laughed, shaking her head, “She’s got plenty of time.”
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. You should scoff at the saying, but in this instance, it was very much true. The entire Hen party was made more awkward by the fact that you didn’t like any of your best friends friends’. All socialites that would give up your deepest, darkest secrets to further themselves and get their names plastered all over the latest tabloids. You were lucky enough to have known her since childhood, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Every wedding you’d attended in the last few years was even more elaborate and outrageous than the last like each bride competed to show that they had the most magnificent life. And every time you were stuck in an uncomfortable bridesmaid dress, trying to avoid the same string of questioning that you knew was coming.
“Come on, Tatami.” One of the girls rolled her eyes, taking a large sip of champagne, “Why don’t you try to set her up with one of your old school friends? At least then she’d be with a man with ambition.”
You felt irritated by them talking about you as though you weren’t even in the room, never mind sitting on the opposite ends of a table. They made it seem as though you were incapable of finding a partner like no one would ever want you.
“Or you could try one of those dating websites, I almost married a rich tycoon from Russia on there before I settled down with my husband. It’s funny how things work out.”
Of course, no one even bothers to ask me whether I want a boyfriend or not– never mind a husband. You rolled your eyes at the idea of flying out to Russia to marry a rich oil tycoon.
“I’m happily single at the moment,” You force a smile, your hand tightening against your glass, “
“They are right though, darling.” Tatami gave you a soft smile, “You have been single for quite some time. I’m not even certain I remember the last time you even mentioned going on a date with anyone?”
That’s because you hadn’t. Not since you lost your boyfriend all those years ago. Why would you try to look for someone again knowing what you know now?
Growing up you’d eagerly awaited receiving your quirk, but the longer it took to manifest the more you’d come to terms that you were one of the quirkless. It wasn’t until you shared your first kiss at sixteen that you realised that maybe things weren’t quite as they seemed. Everyone anticipates their first kiss, hoping it would be one of those special, perfect moments that you’d remember for the rest of your life. But instead, the moment you’d shared yours, you’d been struck with a horrifying premonition.
It felt like a dream at first, a moment where you’d pinch yourself and realise that everything had been concocted in your mind. The vision of your first love walking into traffic on a cold, snowy evening. The cars were unable to stop against the icy terrain as they drove straight towards him, the lights bouncing off the road to make it difficult to see pedestrians as he was knocked to his back. You’d even told him about it after it happened, laughing about how vivid your imagination was– but not even three months later and it's like your nightmare came true.
You’d told yourself it was a coincidence, that it could've happened to anyone and it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to heal your heart as you took time to recover from losing your first love until you met your next boyfriend. You were trying to allow yourself to be happy again, to forget the bad memories that haunted your past. Until it happened again– your first kiss with him gave you a vision. This time a villain attack endangered the city, your boyfriend was caught in the crossfire as a fire quirk ripped through his body and burnt him from the inside out.
It should’ve frightened you, much like the first time. But instead, you just felt numb. It was then you realised that you weren’t in fact quirkless, but instead of gaining a talent that was cool, flashy or useful to society– you inherited a curse.
Of course, there was no way you could explain your quirk to anyone, finding someone that believed you would be hard enough. But telling someone that you know when they’re going to die purely from kissing them? It sounded insane. Not to mention what it could do if the information fell into the wrong hands. Using the information for those dark, depraved benefits.
And to this day you weren’t even sure whether kissing someone showed the way they were going to die, or whether kissing them sealed their fate. Like you were the grim reaper handing out the macabre kiss of death.
Why would anyone want to be with you?
So it was easier this way, guarding your heart so you couldn’t feel the pain of losing someone you love again. A small price to pay to ensure that you didn’t harm anyone else, and the disappointed looks from your friends that you were still very much single were a small price to pay.
But you did feel alone.
Watching all your friends get married, settle down and have kids was harder when you knew you could never have those things. Maybe that's why it hurt even more. We always desire what we can’t have, after all.
“Let me set you up on one date and see how it goes,” Tatami’s annoying friend dipped her glass towards you from across the table, the champagne sloshing inside it, “I have this friend, not much of a looker, but he’s a quirk defence lawyer. It pays good money, and he’s looking to settle down–”
“It’s alright, I’m really not looking–” You felt awkward as each set of eyes around the table scrutinised you.
“Nonsense, he’d be perfect for you,” She continued, and you almost groaned as she pulled out her phone, “Let me text him now, I bet he could get you lunch in that new Sushi restaurant in the city.”
“Sorry, I just need the bathroom-” You almost shoved Tatami out of the booth as she stood up to let you out, her drink splashing as you tried to give her a reassuring smile before disappearing into the throng of people inside the busy nightclub. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find it back to your table at this point, but all you knew is you needed to get out.
The heat inside the club was suffocating, burning through you as you tried to find an exit. Weaving through the sea of people as you tried to remind yourself to breathe. Heaving a sigh as you noticed the sign to a smoking area as you followed the few people heading in the same direction. Stepping into the cool evening air is a welcome relief, the chill pricks against your skin as the heat slowly simmers down. Leaning against the rough brick wall as the back of your head knocks against it gently, closing your eyes to try and alleviate the irritation bubbling up inside you.
“Oi, you okay?” Your eyes opened into a glare to see the source of the voice, your nose scrunched in irritation at the blunt introduction.
A blond man stood a few feet away from you, cell phone in hand. The bright screen illuminated his face and cast a soft glow against his skin. You felt your heart betray you as it sped up at the sight of him, suddenly feeling self-conscious beneath his piercing ruby gaze.
“M’fine.” You mumbled, not about to dump all your issues on a random stranger.
“You don’t look fine,” He shrugged, glancing back down at his phone as he typed against the screen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sneered, your defences up.
“You just look pissed,” He smirked, and it only irritated you more.
Who did this fucking asshole think he was?
“Well I’ve got a random stranger bothering me, so perhaps I am.”
The answer has the opposite effect you were expecting as the blond beside you gives you a wide grin, shaking his head.
“Gotta be better than the desperate pricks inside there?” He tilts his head towards the club and you’ve gotta admit he’s right. You’ve been standing beside him for a minute and he hasn’t tried to buy you a drink or grab your ass.
“Guess you’re right.” You exhale softly.
“Whatever it is can’t be that bad anyway,” He shrugs, “You’re too pretty to be frownin’.”
You hate the way your heart throbs when he calls you pretty, it's pathetic really.
“You come here alone?”
Does he really think you’re that much of a loser to come to a club by yourself?
‘No, my friends are still inside.”
“So why are you out here alone?” He raises a questioning brow.
“Why are you here?” You crossed your arms against your chest defensively, turning the question back on him like he wasn’t doing the exact same thing you were.
“Got a big promotion today,” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Probably just another step on the never-ending corporate ladder to him, “My friends got me out to celebrate.”
“Is that why you’re standing outside on your own?” You shoot back, unable to miss the way his nostrils flare in irritation.
“Could say the same to you, sweetheart.” He scoffs, “Who’re you here with?”
“My best friend,” You smile softly, “She’s getting married.”
“Not very rowdy for a hen party.”
“Oh yeah?” You watch the way his tongue darts out between his lips to wet them, “You're not exactly the life of the party yourself, are you?”
“Just wanna go home,” He rolled his eyes, “My friends turn into assholes when they’re drunk.”
“Mine can be assholes at any time.” You were already expecting texts in the morning trying to invite you on a blind date you didn’t even want to go on.
“Dya want me to call you a cab?” The guy held up his phone, “I can get you a separate one if you don’t wanna share. It ain’t safe to be out here alone.”
“Very considerate of you,” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your heart from doing a little flip, “I can take care of myself.”
“Sure looks like it,” He scoffed, “That why you’re gonna hide out here for the rest of the night?”
“Shut up,” You almost pouted, “I’ll go back in.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He smirked.
“What’s your name?” You asked as he slipped his phone back into his black jeans pocket.
“Bakugou.” He answered after pausing for a second, “What's yours?”
You mumble your name and can’t stop your cheeks from scalding when he responds with a soft “Pretty.”
Standing in a comfortable silence between the handsome stranger you watched groups of people slowly leaving the club, some moving on to their next destination for the night and others trying to stop their friends from throwing up before they climbed into their designated cabs.
“Gonna take fuckin’ ages to catch a cab now, I hate this part of the city.” Bakugou groans, running his palm down the length of his face.
“You could go back in and party,” You shrugged, “I’m sure your friends are missing you.”
“Yeah? After you, sweetheart—” Bakugou made a mock chivalrous movement with his arm to invite you to go back inside first which you rejected. Moving back to stare into the sea of people with a small smile on your face, “Didn’t think so.”
You stood in a comfortable silence beside him for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. One of the first times in a long time that you felt yourself as you both listened to the rowdy cheers in the background.
“Do you ever just want to say fuck it and disappear?” You surprised yourself by speaking your thoughts out loud.
“Go somewhere where no one knows who the fuck you are or what the fuck you’re doin’?” Bakugou responded simply.
“Yeah.”
“All the time.” He murmurs.
“It just hurts when it seems like everyone else has their perfect little lives while you’re just waiting on the sidelines,” You sigh. Maybe it was easier offloading everything onto a random stranger, it wasn’t as though you had anyone else you could talk to, “It’s just lonely.”
“You don’t have to be lonely.” He replied as though it was the most simple answer.”
“It’s not that easy,” You shake your head.
“Who said it ain’t that easy?” Bakugou turned to face you, his frame towering over you as you looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Cause I’m always lonely.” You felt hot, pearly tears beginning to clump in your lash line as you thought about the nights you spent at home alone while all your friends were with their partners. The life that you’d always dreamed about, but never have. For once you just wanted someone to be there for you, with you, “It's just how it is.”
“You don’t have to be though, sweetheart.” He whispers.
“Yeah?” You murmurs, “Do you feel alone too?”
“Fuck,” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he stands with you for a moment, “C’mere.”
Bakugou took your hand in his as he walked you through the crowd of people outside the rowdy venue and down a dark dingy alley that was illuminated in fierce neon lights from the various clubs dotted along the high street. You followed behind him obediently as your heart danced against your ribcage, astounded by your daring behaviour. He could be a murderer or a psychopath for all you knew– just another stranger out looking for his next victim. But for some reason (maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins) you felt safe with him.
He moves his hands to your hips as he pushed you back against the cool brick wall, slotting himself between your parted thighs as he looks down at you with crimson eyes. The scent of liquor was sharp on his breath as his lips hovered close to you, warmth fanning your face as he leaned to kiss you.
“No kissing,” You gasped as you tilted your head just in time to avoid his lips as he pressed a wet, scorching kiss against your jawline.
If he had an issue with it, he didn’t voice it. The only sound was a rough grunt rumbling from the back of his throat as his lips continued to pepper sloppy kisses along your neck. Your fingers swiftly carded through his messy hair, nails grazing his scalp as you tried to pull him closer. As though everything right now wasn’t enough, you needed more.
“Please,” You whine as you felt his teeth graze your pulse point, hips bucking as strong palms reached out to steady you. Keeping you still as he bit down on the supple skin hard, the sudden pain had you crying out for him as the ache blurred your vision. Or maybe it was the alcohol running through your system— warm lips suckling the fresh bite mark as you clench your thighs together in a feeble attempt to give your neglected clit some much-needed friction.
“Please, what?” He rasps against your neck, his tongue salving against the mark he’d left against your skin moments earlier.
This is the part where you should’ve stopped him. Making up an excuse about Tatami wondering where you are, or needing to get home and disappearing into the night. But you didn’t—
“Touch me,”
“You always beg random strange men to touch you, sweetheart?” He smirked, his hand reaching round to grab a handful of your ass, “Or am I just special?”
If only he knew how unlike you this really was, that no one had touched you so intimately in years. A thought that would’ve surely ruined the mood if Bakugou’s hand hadn’t slipped beneath your dress to cup your aching sex, the sensation had you gasping in surprise as the blonde smirked down at you.
“I’m just special, hah?” He answered his own question with a toothy grin, “Is that why your panties are dripping for me?”
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this insatiable. Evenings spent at home with your toys felt nothing like the way his warm hands felt against your skin, uncaring that you were in a dirty alleyway as you found yourself grinding into his touch.
“Fuck,” You murmur, your head knocking against the cold brick as Bakugou presses the heel of his palm against your clit through the sheer fabric. A heat blazes through his touch and scorches you as you writhe against him, desperate to create a delicious friction as he smirks down at how salacious you look at this moment.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, bet I’d slide right in.” He grunts, surprising himself at his blunt words. Blaming his audaciousness on the alcohol Sero and Denki had plied him with not long ago, the liquor flowing through his veins.
“Please,” It’s quite pathetic really, just how easily this man has turned you into this. You’d managed to go years without the touch of a man, and now you’d felt it for a moment you were unsure how you’d ever lived without it.
“Oh, fuck.” He chokes back a groan as he pulls your panties to the side, the skirt of your dress now shamelessly bunched around your waist as he notes the glossy strings of your essence that cling to the flimsy fabric of your panties, “This all for me?”
His fingers drag through your slick shamelessly, testing it on his fingers as he feels the heat radiating from your core. He spends little time circling your puffy clit before continuing lower, dipping one thick digit inside your tight hole. You wish at this moment that you’d worn slightly prettier panties than the plain black ones you wore right now, but if Bakugou had any issues with them he certainly didn’t seem to mind as he pumped his finger in and out of your core.
“Shit, you’re so sensitive.” He groans at the way your body responds to him, thrashing against him as he places more pressure on your clit.
“Please, Bakugou.” Your thighs quiver as he continues pumping his finger inside you, feeling the way your walls hungrily try to suck him in deeper, to take all he's got to give and more.
“Wish we weren’t in a dirty fuckin’ alley right now, princess. I’d have you sit on my face.” He groans, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him at his lewd words. You’d never wished something so bad in your life, tempted to tell him you didn’t mind if there was an audience if it meant having his lips wrapped around your clit.
“I don’t normally do this shit,” He groans, nuzzling your neck.
“Fuck strangers in alleys?” You tease as he gives you a playful smirk against your skin.
“Somethin’ like that.”
You groan as he adds another finger to join the first, stretching you open as your nails dig crescent-shaped moons into the base of his neck, leaving reddened indents against his skin as he growls from the slight twinge of pain. The sounds coming from your cunt are downright crude, echoing around the empty alley as he deliberately curls his fingers to press against the spongy spot inside you.
“Shit, you’re fuckin’ dripping.” Bakugou grunts, watching your creamy slick dribble down his fingers and settle into his palm, his thumb pressing sloppy circles against your needy clit as you shamelessly rock your hips into his touch. Greedily searching for the orgasm that he’s more than happy to give to you.
“Look at you,” He goads, “You’re so fuckin’ easy. This sloppy ‘nd I’ve barely even touched you. Is this all it takes, sweet girl?”
You don’t have the heart to tell him how long it's been since anyone touched you like this, that no matter how hard you try to replicate his touch after today, you’ll probably never feel anything like this again. It’s like he’s tempting you to say something, to give him a witty comeback. But you can’t, not when his fingers are stroking you in all the right places, stretching you out in preparation for what you know is soon to come. You spread your thighs further apart to give him more access, a movement that has a wide grin from ear to ear appearing on his face. Standing on shaky heels as he ensures you stay upright with a palm on your waist.
He knows when he’s found it, like a lost ship searching for the bright glow of a lighthouse to guide it home. Pushing his calloused digits against the same spot that he knows will have you coming undone.
“Right there, huh baby?” He coos, “Yeah, I know, I know. Such a pretty pussy.”
You must look debauched now, your tongue lolling out as you pant pathetically with your head knocking against the cold brick wall. Allowing Bakugou– a complete stranger– to do as he so pleases with you.
“Oi, you listening to me?” He growls, and you can’t even remember what he’s just said. So lost in your own bliss as he continues to press the same persistent circles against your clit, “Course you ain’t, so desperate to cum, hm?’
“Please, Bakugou.” You mumble, breaking off into a salacious moan as he increases his pace eagerly trying to push you over the edge. He’s watching intently as you writhe against him, dangerously close to your release as you pulse around his digits.
“Fuck,” He almost snarls, the sound sending shockwaves direct to your needy cunt as you feel yourself vaulting into your bliss.
His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, even as you're crying out for him and gushing all over them. He instead, increases his pace, determined to have you completely intoxicated on him before he's even begun.
“You’re so goddamn noisy, ain’tcha?” He scoffs, finally pulling his digits from your spent cunt with a crude squelch. Unabashedly holding them up to his lips as he tastes you on his tongue, groaning as though he's tasted the sweetest ambrosia as he cleans you off his skin.
“Please, Bakugou.” You slur, legs shaky from the intense orgasm he’d gifted you as he pulls his fingers from his mouth.
Bakugou’s fingers are quick to unfasten his belt, letting the heavy buckle hang as he dipped his thumbs into the hem of his boxers to pull them down along with his jeans. Letting the material settle around the curve of his ass, just enough to free his aching cock. The sight of it had your thighs quivering in anticipation, the bulging head an angry pink colour as it oozed pre from the slit. Dribbling down the underside as the veins that forked along his girth made him appear even bigger, the length of it drooped down from the sheer weight as you wondered how on earth he could keep something that size hidden beneath his jeans.
“S’big,” You murmur, biting down on your lower lip as your cunt throbs in anticipation. Even his balls look huge, thick and weighty as you watch him give himself a teasing pump. His wrist rolling as he smears pre along the length. Ready to ignore how damp and filthy the floor looks in favour of dropping to your knees to worship his cock as it deserves.
“Think you can still manage it though, sweetheart.” He grins, “I know that pretty pussy’s good for it.”
You’re almost disappointed when he pulls a condom out from his wallet in his back pocket, seemingly you’ve found the only man in the entire bar with a conscience as he rips the foil packet open with his teeth. Lifting one of your thighs up to press against his hip as his cock slips between your folds, the fat tip catching against your entrance as he sucks in a breath.
“Don’t do that,” Bakugou groans, “You’ll make me wanna fuck you raw.”
“Do it then.” You challenge, wondering whether he really is like all the sleazy men your friends end up with.
“Another time, baby.” He glowers back, pushing the tip of the condom against the head of his cock as he slides it down his length.
The first push against your tight entrance has the air stolen from your lungs, a dull ache from the stretch in your core as his thick cock slowly breaches your sex.
“Holy fuck,” He grunts, his fingers dipping into the fat of your thigh as he holds it against his hip, “You’re so tight.”
He smirks at how desperate you are to feel him inside you, trying to drop yourself down on his length as he gives a few, shallow thrusts. Your fingers dig into his skin to try and get him to give you more, rewarding you by thrusting all the way inside. One sharp rut is all it takes to have him sheathed inside you, your walls moulding to the shape of his cock as he takes a moment to cherish the sensation of you wrapped around him.
“Told you I’d slide right in, perfect fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, slowly pulling back as he glances down between you to watch his cock slide out of your warm heat before you take every inch again.
There’s not much you can do in this position except stand there and take what Bakugou’s got to give, his rough thrusts push you against the wall as he almost sweeps you off your feet. His messy pubes tickle your clit with every forward motion as your essence leaks from your needy cunt and dribbles down his heavy balls.
His scent is intoxicating, the saccharine tartness has you tugging him closer. Burying your nose into his neck to smell the mixture of cologne and his natural scent. It’s almost comforting as you cling to him a little tighter, trying to commit it to memory so you can cherish it when you inevitably end up alone after tonight.
“Oh, god.” You cling to his broad shoulders, holding him tight as he sets a brutal pace. The fabric of your dress catches against the rough brick behind you as he leaves a trail of kisses against your cheek.
The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure rapidly building inside you as he continues thrusting into you with hard, sharp ruts of his hips. For once, the only thing you can think about is the white-hot pleasure coursing through you. The soothing ache from his cock stretching you open is almost cathartic as you let him use your body as he pleases, his rough hands groping at your exposed skin as he presses more scorching kisses against your jugular, sharp teeth nipping at your skin.
“Oh fuck, Bakugou.” You cry out, louder than intended as your toes curl from his harsh movement.
“Shit– You want us to get caught, sweetheart?” He groans, his palm reaching up to cover your mouth, “Can’t kiss you to shut’cha up, can I? So I’ll have to do this.”
And maybe it’s better this way, your lips warm against his palm as your lipstick smears against it. Otherwise, with the way he was looking down at you, you probably would’ve kissed him.
Your moans are muffled by Bakugou now, his pace unrelenting as he gives rough thrusts inside you. The lewd squelch vibrates around the empty alley and mingles with the loud thrum of bass that vibrates from inside the club. The loud bustle of voices only feet away as anyone could turn down and see you both in such a compromising position— not that it would be anything unusual. You certainly aren’t the first couple to fuck down this alley, if the empty condom wrappers and bottles are anything to go by, and you surely won’t be the last. But it’s been so unlike you to allow yourself to submit to your pleasure, to live a little.
“You still with me, pretty girl?” He groans, “Pussy feels so good. Can feel you clamping down around me.”
You whined against his palm, feeling the pleasure intensifying inside you as Bakugou continued his rough pace. Drunken patrons hollered boisterously as they left the bar causing him to shield your body with his broad back, taking his eyes off you to ensure they didn’t decide to come down the alleyway to interrupt you.
“Fuckin’ pricks.” Bakugou snarled under his breath as he stilled inside of you.
Your entire body felt as though it was on fire, hovering dangerously close to the edge of your climax as your cunt clenched around his thick cock. Causing Bakugou to suck a harsh breath through his teeth as he brought his attention back to you, the corner of his lip curling into a sly smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I didn’t forget about you,” He groaned, languidly moving inside you, “Gonna make you cum so hard.”
“Please,” You mumbled, muffled by his hand as he began rolling his hips, the bulging tip of his cock catching against the spongy spot inside you with each pronounced thrust.
“Fuck,” Bakugou snarls, moving his hand from your mouth in favour of slipping it between your bodies to thumb at your clit. The sensation has your knees buckling as your weight drops, no longer able to hold yourself up. But he’s strong, keeping you pinned between his body and the wall as he keeps his unrelenting pace, “Come on, pretty girl. I know you’re close, can feel you choking me.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s embarrassing really, how one man— a stranger, can have you coming undone like this in public no less.
“So fuckin’ noisy, shit-” He grunts, his ruby gaze intense as he watches you come undone.
Bakugou steals your climax from you, his thumb is unrelenting against your clit as he feels your cunt clamp down around him. The loud cry that spills from your lips has him wincing as he hopes no one’s decided to look down the alley for a free show— something that would certainly make the front page this very morning. He eases you through your high, the white spots that dance across your vision make it feel like you’re seeing stars. A sea of constellations against your eyelids as you succumb to the pleasure.
“You look so pretty when you cum,” He groans, his face buried in the apex of your neck as he inhales deeply, committing your scent to memory as he cherishes the way your cunt clenches around his cock.
Bakugou pushes his fat cock inside you, as deep as he can go. Until his balls are snug against the swell of your ass as he feels the tremble of your cunt coming down from your high. His warm breath scorches your neck as he gives himself a moment's respite before picking up his pace once more, greedily using your body to chase his own release. His palm pushes your thigh up higher against his hip, changing the angle as the swollen tip of his cock finds what it was searching for. The euphoria already surging through your veins is enhanced by the attention from his cock knocking against the same spot inside you over, and over, and over.
“Think you can give me one more, sweet girl?” He rasps, watching your thick lashes flutter as tears blind your vision.
“I– can’t,” You manage to get out between broken breaths, unadulterated pleasure coursing through your veins.
“Yeah, you can.” He coos, his thumb persistent against your clit as he ruts into the same spot inside you, “C’mon, for me?”
The sensation building inside you is almost painful, still overwhelmed from your last intense climax the pleasure still bubbling to the surface as Bakugou is unrelenting. It’s too much, and yet not enough at the same time.
“Don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He groans, “Cum for me.”
Your body feels ungovernable as you succumb to the pleasure, a cry of his name tumbling from your lips that he doesn’t try to silence as he holds your quivering body. Preventing you from thrashing as he clings to you tightly, fingertips creating divots in your plush thigh.
“Oh fuck, there we go.” He snarls primally, nostrils flaring as he gives a few final shaky ruts of his hips, spilling his release inside the condom with a grunt as you both bask in the aftershocks of your release.
You’re certain if he let go of you now you’d collapse to the dirty floor, your legs no longer strong enough to support your weight as you cling to Bakugou. And he holds you back just as tight, dropping your sore thigh in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist as he remains buried inside your fluttering cunt.
He can still feel you spasming when he finally pulls out of you, sliding the condom off his spent cock as he shamelessly throws it onto the ground. Fixing your panties before pulling your dress back down around your thighs to hide your modesty before he moves to tuck his wet cock back inside his underwear and buttons his jeans.
You hadn’t expected him to hold you so tenderly, as though you were the world's most precious porcelain. But you both stand there for what feels like forever, basking in the afterglow as you sway side to side.
A large palm raised to cup your warm cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin as he tilted your head to meet his gaze. Leaning forward as his eyes crossed to stare at your pouty lips, closing the distance slowly until you placed a palm on his chest.
“No kissing.” You repeated, turning your head as Bakugou pulled back, squinting at you.
“Still?” Bakugou grunts, “Why the no kissin’ bullshit?”
You couldn’t explain it to him, especially not after this. Wondering if it would be easier to make up a lie about your breath smelling or being nervous.
“I just can’t.” You sounded pathetic, internally wincing at the pitiful tone of your voice.
“Yeah, why?” He continued, “You got a boyfriend or somethin’?”
He actually looked hurt as he asked the question, his crimson gaze searching your eyes for any kind of deception as you shake your head no.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Husband?” Bakugou pushes as you shake your head again.
“No.”
“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” He spits, slightly more harshly than intended.
“You won’t like it,”
I don’t want to know when you die. You think to yourself.
“Like fuck I won’t.” He scoffed, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”
Bakugou caught you by surprise when he wrapped his palm around your neck, holding you so tenderly as he ducked his head forward. Catching you even more by surprise as he placed his chapped lips against yours, his tongue instantly slipping past your parted lips to delve deeper.
Fuck.
The first time you’ve actually felt something for someone this had to happen. The premonition played clearly behind your eyes as you felt Bakugou’s tongue mould against your own, a deep timber groan vibrating against your mouth as he lost himself in the kiss.
Of course, whatever higher power couldn’t just let you be happy for once, you had to see the fate in store for Bakugou Katsuki.
Pulling away from your lips as his tongue poked out to taste your lipgloss, the corner of his lips curled into a smug smirk as you stared up at him in complete horror. This wasn’t good—
You’d hoped that his death would be a peaceful one, dying a natural death surrounded by his loved ones at a ripe old age. But it was anything but, the terrifying vision now imprinted onto your memory. And you wished he never kissed you, not only so he wouldn’t die but so you wouldn’t have to see this vision every time you close your eyes.
With one kiss you’d sealed his fate.
“Fuck,” He mumbled, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath.
You’d convinced yourself that as long as you didn’t kiss him, it would be okay— but now you’d seen the future you knew nothing would be okay.
Humans are such selfish creatures.
“Yeah, fuck.” You groaned.
1K notes · View notes
thebestofoneshots · 17 days
Text
Waiting For a Girl Like You | wolfstar x reader
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Pairing: R.L.. x S.B. x Gn!Reader (originally written as a woman but then I discovered I hadn't used any pronouns, and the reader was not particularly feminine, so it became my first official GN) Word Count: 5 k Warnings: None Prompt: Unbeknownst to many, your birthday has always been a quiet affair, you don't often celebrate it and you certainly weren't expecting for things to change the moment you met those two, enimagtic boys on your Creative Writing course. You could have not been more mistaken.
I got two requests a couple of weeks ago and I could not fulfil them on time for the life of me. Dear @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl sent me similar requests about a certain birthday fic and first of all, Guys your birthdays are on the same day, How cool is that!?! Second, I'm so sorry I took so long, but it's finally here!
I decided to combine the prompts since I thought it would be really cute for the story, and this is what I've come up with.
Hope you enjoy, darlings! I'm wishing you all the best! xx Lils
Written for @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl
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You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays so far. Back in your hometown, it was the same day as a special celebration of the discovery of the mines and they held a huge, town-wide party for it. The party was great, a fair, balloons, cotton candy, everything great, everything kids loved. Unfortunately, it was so good that people tended to forget about your birthday since they were excited about Mining Day. 
Of course, people close to you remembered (your parents), but even though you had told your friends plenty of times that your birthday was on the same day, it had slipped their minds a good deal of times. You tried to make parties and people would prefer going to see the guest singer invited to the festival. You'd make them the next day and they were too tired to come. 
Eventually, you just gave up on celebrating your own birthday and decided to join the rest on Mining Day, enjoying the candies and everything in between. It might have not been your special day but it was a special day and that was as good as you’d get. Or so you thought. 
When you moved to London for university, you didn’t even think about telling your friends about your birthday, and they hadn’t asked either. That was until you took that Creative Writing side course and met them. You had been on time but the room had been filled to the brim with students, and there was nowhere to sit. You’d huffed and were about to leave to ask for a chair from a different classroom but when you turned around you bumped into the prettiest person your eyes had ever laid eyes upon, piercing grey eyes, long wavy hair, and features so elegant he looked royal.
He smiled, such a pretty smile. “Hey, you were going for one of these? I brought extra,” he said as he pulled one of the chairs up to signal what he was talking about. 
“Yeah,” you said shily. 
“Cool, come along then,” he said and you moved out of the way as he moved with the chairs. He moved his chairs all the way to a table where there was another stunning person sitting down. “What’s your name, Luv?” You replied with your name, soft and polite. “Pretty,” he said, flashing that same smile your way, meaning both you and your name, not that you knew. He accommodated the chairs, one next to each other, wiped his hands on his black jeans and then extended his hand to you. “Sirius Black.” 
You shook his hand and then the other boy’s warm smile caught your eye. “Remus Lupin,” he said with his hand extended as well. He had scars all over his body, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Were you curious about them? Of course, you were. Were you gonna ask? No way in hell.
The boys had met each other at a boarding school in Scotland and had moved to London recently. Remus wanted to take a lit class and tried to convince his friends to join him but Sirius didn’t love the idea of a class where he’d have to read and analyse books, so he suggested taking something more on the creative side. 
Remus found the Writing Course and Sirius had been more than happy to join him. You and Remus actually had a lot in common, you discovered as the class went on. You had both read a lot, and you veered towards the same authors and storylines. You had an insane passion for Oscar Wilde and he loved Mary Shelly. You sometimes wondered if he liked her so much because of the way she described the Fiend, you truly hoped that wasn’t it, because while you could see how Rem would relate to the monster, you hated the idea of it, since you considered him absolutely stunning. 
Days had gone by, and while you always sat with the boys and hung out with them every time you saw them at school, you hadn’t really seen them outside of it, that was until you got a group assignment and Sirius was quick to place his arms around both you and Rem and claim you as his team. 
Remus scribbled your names on a piece of paper and handed them over to the teacher before she assigned each of you a different subject for your story. You got fantasy. The boys seemed to be diverted when you started talking about mythical creatures and wizards, and you assumed it had something to do with an inside joke they developed through the years of knowing each other.
They invited you over to their apartment that was just next to a corner cafe cleverly named “The Corner” and you had stopped by to get something for you and the boys, since you weren’t sure how long it would take and were now waiting just outside the door to their apartment complex. 
“We’re coming, Sweets,” Sirius’ voice said through the speakers as the door buzzed open to let you in. 
You used your shoulder to push inside and carefully moved the carton with the three coffee cups inside as you entered, your backpack strap got caught in the door and you were forced to turn around to and you opened the door again, placing the paper bag with fresh bread on your mouth to free one of your hands and pulled the strap free. 
When you turned around, you were shocked to find a smiling Sirius right in front of your face. “You shouldn’t have bothered, Luv!” he said and extended his hand towards your mouth, taking the paper bag and then the carton with the coffee from your hand.
“I wanted to,” you said simply. 
Sirius and you went up the stairs, Remus was waiting by the door and the two of them welcomed you in. For an apartment belonging to two boys, it was surprisingly neat. Remus had arranged his coffee table with a few cushions over the rug so you all could sit together, he had a couple of pens and pencils, his notebook and a stunning Remington Typewriter. 
You almost walked straight to look at it when you spotted it on the table, “This is her, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah,” Remus said as he sat beside you. “Wanna try it?” 
“Can I please?” you asked, you had a Brother one at your apartment, and you adored her, but Remingtons were classics. His was from the 50s and it looked brand new. Rather than responding, Remus placed a paper through the platen and pushed it towards you. 
Since you didn’t actually have a plan to write something, you just typed the boys’ Name and then yours, right at the top of the paper. 
“What are we going to write then? Any ideas?” 
“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about wizards?” Sirius asked with a smile. 
“But do you want to?”
He chuckled, “Of course, Sweets, we’d love to go for that.” He reclined his head on the sofa. “We’ve actually discussed it, and we have some ideas, don’t we Moony?” 
Remus shot a look at Sirius, who winked in return. 
“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze to Sirius. “For the plot?”
“Mhm… hear me out. It’s a hidden school for wizards, you get there by taking a secret train hidden at King’s Cross. The school is full of magic and mysteries and ghosts and other magical creatures.” 
You frowned, “I don’t know… it sounds a little too surrealistic, doesn’t it?”
Sirius laughed at your statement and Remus threw pillow towards his face, you squirmed in your seat a little uncomfortably and then Rem placed his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay, Dove. We don’t have to go for Sirius’ idea.”
“But he said you wanted to write about it too…”
“I’ll be happy with whatever we make. I know with our writing skills and Sirius’ creativity we’ll make something brilliant.” 
You pulled out your notebook and checked the list of ideas for the story you had to write. It had to be at least 50k words and you had three weeks to finish it. So the three of you would have to get writing as soon as possible, which meant you had to define the story and you had to define it fast. Most of your ideas were either unfinished, not doable in such a short time or had the opportunity to be integrated into Sirius’ magic school. 
“Okay, tell me more about your Wizard’s school.” 
Sirius smiled, threw a look at Remus –a satisfied sort of look– before turning back to you, “Okay, so the name is Wartshow: School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, and–“ 
“Doesn’t Witchcraft and Wizardry sound better, though?” 
Sirius licked his lips and smiled. “All right then, Wartshow: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You wrote it down in your notebook. 
“It’s the story about a boy, a boy that thought they wouldn’t be able to assist even though he was a wizard.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone. 
“Shut up Moony, you’ll kill my inspiration.” 
“Why did he think that?” You asked. 
“Because he was bitten by a werewolf when he was 4.”
 Remus scoffed and stood up, “I’ll bring the snacks.” 
“Is he okay?” you asked. 
“He’s not a fan of my story,” Sirius said. “He says the main character is not a hero, but I differ.” 
You hummed in response. “What’s the boy’s name?” 
“Re- Andrew,” he said, “Andrew Renault.” 
“Renault? Is he french?” 
“No, I don’t– he is not.” 
“Okay, then we should go for a more English name, like… Remington?” 
“Andrew Remington? Sounds posh.” 
“As if  Sirius Black sounded less posh,” you joked and he scoffed playfully at you. He continued listing his ideas, telling you Remus’ story although he had changed the names of almost everyone. “Will there be dragons?” you asked after he had laid out the basic idea.
 “Dragons? Those are dangerous!” 
“Of course they are, but it’s more exciting than the…ugh” –you checked your notes– “boggart monster you mentioned.” 
“Dragons are definitely more exciting than Boggarts,” Remus said as he sat on the floor next to you. You couldn’t help but notice his scars, perhaps Sirius had used those as inspiration for Andrew. 
“Okay, so we’ll add dragons. What if there’s a dragon in the dungeons?” 
“No, in the dungeons there are snakes,” Sirius said as if it were a fact. He had clearly thought this out. 
“Okay… what about a secret room in the castle that has dragons? It’s magical, right? It could be bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS.” 
“The what?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The TARDIS! From Doctor Who?” you said as if it were a fact, he still looked confused. “You do know what I’m talking about, right Rem?” 
“Is it a book?” he asked. 
“A book? How do you even call yourself Brits if you don’t know about Doctor Who? That’s it, Sunday, my house, we’re watching a marathon.” 
“Whatever you want, dove,” Remus said and handed you a piece of chocolate. 
“So, going back to the story. A room that’s bigger on the inside. Like a… Chamber of Secrets?”
“Sirius,” Remus warned again. 
“It’s what she said!” Sirius said defensively. 
After that, you finished plotting the small story in between the three, even with the slight reluctance you detected from Remus, you got around to defining all of your main characters, the challenges they’d go through and the resolution of the story. 
“By the way, tomorrow is our flatmate James’ birthday,” Sirius said as he closed the notepad he’d been writing on. “Wanna come to the party?” 
“I don’t think I’ve met James, though.” 
“It’s fine, he’ll love to meet you I’m sure,” Remus said. “When is your birthday?” 
“I–“ you hesitated, “I don’t really celebrate it.” 
“Why not? We should definitely celebrate the day you were brought into this world,” Sirius said. 
You smiled, Sirius could be the sweetest sometimes. “I don’t do parties…” 
“Because you don’t want to?” 
“No! It’s just… long story, don’t bother yourselves with it.” 
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Sirius offered. “In exchange, you give me your birthday, how about that?” 
You laughed, Sirius wasn’t the type to care too much about things, so you walked towards him and whispered the date in his ear. 
“Now yours?” you said as he leaned closer to you. 
“It’s all real, we are magicians from the school in our story,” he whispered. 
You laughed. “I thought you’d tell me a real secret, should have known,” you added as you shoved him, he just laughed and shrugged in response, as if he was saying it’s your loss, for not believing his lie. 
After that day, you hung out with them almost all the time, be it to watch movies, to continue that Doctor Who marathon, or to hang out with the boys on their birthdays. In fact, it was almost odd if you didn’t see each other in more than a couple of days, since they would find almost any reason to meet, Sirius would call and say ‘Hey, there’s a new movie I want to see, you coming with us?’
Or Remus would leave a note on your mailbox telling you to come with him to a library later that day since he had just finished the book he was reading and you were always the best at finding the right books. 
So. of course, you thought it was odd when, on the morning of your birthday, you called their apartment and got no response. Now you weren’t expecting a grandiose party, you weren’t even going to get a cake or anything, but you wanted to see them, maybe go out for dinner, or have a cinema night. You rang them again and still no answer. 
You sighed and walked towards school. You didn’t have that creative writing course today so you weren’t expecting to see them there, but perhaps on the lunch break, you’d find them in your usual spot. 
Your classes were rather tedious, an old professor that spoke very quietly and you had to sit at the very front to even hear him, and then another professor who almost always went over the same thing you’d seen in the first class. Always, round and round the same thing, with nothing new. At least you’d have a class with Professor Almain before lunch. It was your favourite class of the semester –aside from the writing course– and so far, you thought it’d be the highlight of your day. 
But when you got to his classroom, the room was empty and there was a short note on the board: Professor Almain is indisposed today. Study Chapters three and four of your book, you’ll be discussing them next class. The note was signed by Tobby Klein, his assistant. 
You sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, sulking as you took out the book mentioned and started to read. Someone else tried to enter the room a few minutes later, and when they realised there would be no class, they left the classroom instantly. Perhaps they had something better to do, you didn’t. 
You had taken that class as an extracurricular, so you barely knew the students in it, and your classmates were in a class you had taken online, so you couldn’t exactly go search for any of them. You could have gone to the library, but it also seemed unnecessary when you had a perfectly quiet classroom all to yourself. 
You were about halfway through the chapter when you heard someone knocking on the glass window. When you turned you spotted Sirius waving his hand at you with a bright, pearly smile. He looked as dashing as ever. It was ridiculous how pretty you still thought he was even when you saw him all the time. 
He entered the room shortly after. “What are you here all alone?” he asked as he pulled a chair next to yours and pressed a short kiss on your cheek as a greeting. Sirius did that all the time, you’d assumed it was because he was half French. 
“Class was cancelled,” you said as you pointed to the board. “Had nowhere to go. Aren’t you supposed to be in class too?” 
He hummed in response. “It’s that stupid advanced maths class Moony convinced me to take, I was falling asleep and asked to go to the bathroom to throw some water at my face when I spotted you.” 
“You should go back.” 
“To maths? Rather than staying with you? Yeah, right!” 
A small smile appeared on your lips as you stared at him while shaking your head in disbelief. “What if you fail, though?” 
“I’m not going to fail,” he said with a shrug. “Moony can tell me what it was about later. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.” 
You nodded and pulled your bag from the ground. “I was actually going to invite you guys over tonight,” you said as you opened the zipper and placed the book inside the bag, “I mean I’m sure you don’t remember, and I don’t really want to make anything big but–“ 
“That today is your birthday?” Sirius asked. 
You turned to him in shock, “You– you…” 
“How on earth would I forget?” he said with a smile. “It’s the day my best girl was born. They should make a fucking parade for you.” 
You felt your cheeks warm at Sirius’ grandiose attitude. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “It feels like a day for ice cream, want some?” 
You nodded and he dragged you towards the parking lot, his hand not leaving yours at all, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest since you suspected he had a thing with Remus, but it was almost impossible when he looked at you with his stunning grey eyes. 
He took out the helmet they’d gotten you when they started offering to take you on rides from Moony’s bike and handed it over. It was a full-face black helmet that matched the one the two of them wore almost perfectly, but while Moony’s had a half moon and Sirius’ had a star, yours had both. 
It had been Remus who added the matching moon, and Sirius –who instantly got jealous over it– painted a star right in the middle, he was exceptionally good at painting, sometimes you wondered why he didn’t study art. Then again, you weren’t sure what exactly they were studying, since they had taken classes from more than four different degrees as if they had only picked the few classes that they were interested in.
 You took the helmet in between your hands and hopped on Sirius’ bike. He drove you to the small park that was just a couple of minutes from the school and got you your favourite ice cream from the small ice cream shop James had discovered a while back. 
“So, about tonight?” 
“Moony has a thing,” Sirius said with an apologetic smile. “He has a big presentation tomorrow and he’s working on it with his team tonight, they’ll be using the rooftop of our apartment for it, I believe.” 
“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. 
Sirius bit his lip, “Why don’t you come over?” 
“I wouldn’t want to be a distraction, I mean–“ 
“I don’t have to work on any projects,” Sirius said. “We could play chess, watch a movie while he finishes and then we order something to eat.” 
“You– do you really think that’s a good idea?” you asked, uncertain, as you brought your ice cream to your mouth.
“For sure,” he said. “We could get a cake and–“ 
“No cakes.” 
“But you like cakes!” 
“Not on my birthday.” 
“That’s ridiculous! You have something on your face.” 
“Where?” you asked. 
“There,” he said as leaned his finger close to you and smeared some of his ice cream over your cheek. You gasped in shock. 
“Sirius!” you admonished.
“Yes, Luv?” he responded, as if you had just called him.
You used the napkin wrapped around your cone to clean your cheek, “That was uncalled for.” 
“I don’t know about that, your cheeks looked like they needed some ice cream,” he said while trying, and failing to hold back a smile, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, much like a magician would do, and handed it over to you. You were about to take it from his hand, but he shook his head and wrapped his fingers around your chin and turned your head to the side softly. “Allow me.” 
He took longer than needed while whipping your cheek, but he didn’t exactly want to pull apart, and you didn’t want him to pull apart either. 
“There you go.” 
“It’s sticky now,” you teased. 
“Nothing can keep you happy, can it, Sweetheart?” he said dramatically and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and leaned his head on yours. 
You just laughed. Sirius convinced you to skip the next class and stay with him at the park and then took you home. 
“Want me to pick you up?” He asked as you got down from the bike. He had propped the small side stand down and was leaning on the handlebar. You could hardly believe he had driven you all around looking that handsome, with his leather jacket, and high boots. Sirius was pretty all the time, but sometimes he felt more like a fictional character than like an actual human. 
You saw a girl eyeing him as she passed by, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be lovely. At 7?” 
He smiled, gave you a short wink, and put his helmet back on. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the helmet before he drove off. You entered your apartment shortly after, and it took you a whole minute to recover. It’s not that you hadn’t gone out with Sirius plenty of times, but this one seemed a lot more like a date than all of the previous ones. 
You took a snack bar from your pantry, went for a shower, and asked your classmates about the class you’d missed. A friend of yours told the teacher that you were feeling sick to cover for you and he said he wouldn’t count the absence (it was the first time you missed that class anyway), and you had always been rather participative. 
After that, you grabbed the book you’d been reading and read until it was 7. The light outside had already gone out, and you took some chocolates you’d bought for Remus last week and placed them in your backpack, it was then that you heard the familiar honk of Sirius’ Triumph.
You walked downstairs and met him outside. He switched his band tee for a snug turtleneck sweater that fit him obscenely well and was still wearing his leather jacket. You had kept your helmet and put it on as you approached his bike. 
“You smell nice,” you said as you sat behind him.
“You think?” he asked, playing dumb. “Maybe it’s the aftershave,” he added as he pulled the side stand up and drove into the street. You eyed him suspiciously, not that you could see much while he had his helmet on but you still did.
By the time you arrived at their apartment, you had forgotten all about your suspicion and were just leaning onto Sirius as much as you could, since the night had grown a lot colder than you expected it would. Sirius parked his bike just outside and the two of you walked the three floors of stairs to their apartment.
You expected to see James lounging around like he often did, but he was not there, and Sirius told you Remus was on the terrace at the top, doing his thing, so you walked towards the sofa while Sirius offered to make you a cup of tea.
“Remus bought the one you like,” he said, pulling out a box with the tea you had tried a while back. You had fallen in love with the flavour, but you never found it in the supermarket –it was from a small tea shop at Diagon Alley, so really, there would be no way for you to find it.
“Okay,” you said, “got milk?” 
Sirius nodded towards the fridge and you helped him by pulling out the milk and some biscuits. When your cup was ready, he handed it over to you and took a sip of his own. He glanced at the clock quickly, so quick you barely even noticed and then smiled. It was that mysterious smile of his that told you he was up to something. “We should go see Remus.” 
“What? I thought he was working on his project.” 
“He probably is, but you haven’t seen him all day, I’m sure he wants to at least give you a birthday hug.” 
“A birthday hug?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Yes! A birthday hug! We’ll bother him for a bit and then we come back and you tell me about that book you’ve been reading. The one with the character you said reminds you of me.” 
“You’re so full of yourself,” you said with a laugh as you nodded and followed along with him. 
As you reached the top of the stairs you heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. Sirius was the one to open it first, but none of the lights they normally had were up. 
“Maybe they went to do their homework at the Corner Cafe,” you told Sirius as you turned to him. Suddenly all the lights turn on, including candles and the hanging fairy lights at the top. 
“Surprise!” A chorus of voices sang.
You were startled, Remus and James were right in front of their small table, and there was a cake right in front of them. They had invited their friend Lily, who was dating James and with whom you were fairly close to. She was the first one to approach you.
“I can’t believe Sirius was the one to tell me when your birthday was, Luv! He used to forget mine all the time!” She turned to Sirius with an accusing gaze and then back at you. “Happy Birthday,” she added as she hugged you. 
James gave you a short squeeze after and Remus wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Sirius joined the hug right after. 
“You’re squeezing me, boys!” you complained in a laugh. 
“It’s a birthday squeeze, deal with it,” Sirius responded, and pressed even closer. 
“Remus?” you tried, he was the most reasonable one between the two. 
“You heard Sirius, Dove. It’s the birthday squeeze.” 
You must have stayed like that for at least a minute before either of the two let go of you, you were certain Lily had whispered something to James, but you were too busy basking on the wrath of the squeeze to bother. After that, you would have sworn the lights of the cake turned on by themselves as Lily walked over to you with it. They sang Happy Birthday while Sirius pulled you to sit on his lap, using the terrible excuse that there was no other seat available. 
You had cake and then they handed over your gifts. A book from Lily and a chocolate frog from James, although he warned you not to open it until later. You didn’t know what that was about but decided to do what was told. Eventually, Lily said she had to go and James offered to walk her. 
Although he said ‘I’ll fly you’ getting a look from Remus that you missed entirely. The boys had extended a pair of matts over the deck and you were all laying on them while gazing at the stars. 
“It was lovely, thank you for the surprise,” you said as you looked at the waning moon. 
“It was nothing, Luv,” Rem said.
“Remus was really eager to celebrate your birthday. We actually have a little present for you,” Sirius added. 
“Really?” you asked, turning to Sirius.
“Mhm,” he nodded. 
“Open the frog,” Remus prompted. 
You leaned forwards and sat on the mat, pulling the frog from the table and doing what told. Suddenly the Frog that looked like it had been made out of chocolate jumped and fell near Remus’ leg. You gasped and stared at the moving frog. It looked like chocolate, but it moved as if it were alive. 
“What– did James give me an actual frog?” 
“No, it’s chocolate,” Remus reassured and picked it up. The frog stilled in his hand. 
You stared at it in disbelief, “Is this some sort of trick?” 
“It’s magic,” Sirius said. 
You frowned at him.
“Remember the story for our class? The one that we worked on together?” 
“Wartshow, Andrew, yeah of course.” 
“Well, It’s sort of real.” 
“What?” 
Remus pulled out his wand and handed it over to you. You stared at it, it looked like a wand, it felt like a wand, but there was no way it was magic because magic– “Is this some kind of trick?” 
Sirius laughed and pulled out a different wand from his pocket, he whispered something and red sparks blew out from the tip. You swallowed and took it from his hands. Checking on it to see if there was some kind of trick, or cannon dust or something inside of it, but it was just a stick, fancy, but a stick. 
Remus took his wand and with another set of words, levitated the small frog right in front of your face. You looked at it with eyes wide open and moved your hand all over it to make sure it really was floating, and it wasn’t some kind of invisible string trick. It was right in front of your eyes, and it was still too fascinating to believe.
“But… in our story, wizards couldn’t tell the non-wizards about their existence. It was meant to be a secret… I mean… Why are you telling me?” 
Remus smiled, his hand searched yours and he leaned his head on top of yours and sighed. “Because we trust you,” he said while looking ahead, at nothing in particular.
Sirius searched for your other hand, making sure to turn it around and interwinning his fingers with yours. He placed his head on your shoulder. “Because we like you.” 
You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays, but this had been one of the nicest birthdays of them all, more so when your two crushes admitted what Sirius had meant by his words. That they liked you –romantically– not just as friends. 
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A/N: I am so, SO sorry for taking this long to finish your gift, but I made it a bit longer than initially planned to make up for it.
Hope you both had the most amazing birthday and that you're having a wonderous day today. Sending you lots of love, hope you enjoy this little thing <3
307 notes · View notes
heartpascal · 11 months
Text
weight too heavy to hold alone
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▹— joel miller x platonic!reader
▹— summary: joel’s life in jackson is much more complicated than he thought it would be
▹— a/n: HEY. im not back just yet but thought i’d drop in to give yall this idk!! just something ive been working on between revision yk. hope you enjoy!
▹— warnings: angst, references to death of a child, references to past trauma (very brief, very vague reference, barely there), comparisons to dead daughter (but IS written as gender neutral i think, just behaviour wise), feeling unwanted and unloved
▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi  @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours 
MASTERLIST
howl’s song recs
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
It was meant to be a temporary thing, that was what Tommy had told Joel. It was the whole reason he had agreed, the whole reason he had relented to having you in his new home, sharing a room with Ellie just down the hall from his own. 
Joel should’ve known, really. His and his brother’s versions of temporary were incredibly different, much like night and day, water and oil, hot and cold. Where Joel’s idea of temporary was a few days, at most, Tommy’s was, apparently, a couple of months. But what could he do? You were already here, already settled in on your side of Ellie’s room, with a mattress upon the floor and the bag filled with your things set beside it. 
The first few days, Joel had been so on edge he couldn’t sleep, waiting for the moment Ellie made a peep, made the slightest inclination of being uncomfortable in your presence. He was half waiting for you to full-blown attack the two of them, after all, it wouldn’t have been the first time such things had happened to him and Ellie. 
But you never did. 
Your presence eventually became so… quiet that it was unnoticeable. You would leave the house before Joel and Ellie even thought about waking up, and would only return when they were either busy eating dinner, or already fast asleep in bed. It seemed like you did your absolute best to avoid the two of them.
It was only when he jumped up from his dozing, hearing the faint murmur of Ellie’s voice down the hall, that he clocked on to your presence again. Perhaps it was wrong, morally, for Joel to have crept down the hallway, shiv clutched in an untrusting hand, but who could’ve blamed him? He had done everything in his power to protect Ellie for a long time, by then. And he’d agree that you were young, that he was too harsh, but he’d already lost a daughter once. He wasn’t keen to go through that again.
The shared laughter was what stopped his hand from reaching towards the doorknob. It was quiet, and suddenly Joel was back in his thirties, listening to Sarah and her friends snicker and whisper in her bedroom, the door slightly ajar just to appease him. It had been nearing midnight, back then, Sarah’s birthday coming to a close, and it had also been the first time he had allowed her to have girls and boys over. 
He blinked, and came back to the reality of where he was, of what he was holding, of who was on the other side of the door. Joel had only listened for a moment longer, another shared giggle making the tension slide from his shoulders, and it wasn’t long before he was back in his own room, door ajar, shoving the shiv underneath flannels in a shoddy chest of drawers. 
Joel could remember that it wasn’t too long after that night that you had joined him and Ellie for dinner, for the very first time. It had been an awkward affair, and it reminded him of the first few times he and Ellie had shared a proper meal together in their new home. You were vaguely uncomfortable the entire time, shooting Ellie looks that you didn’t know he had noticed. Her only response was a snicker, though Joel would’ve guessed from the thunk underneath the table that you had placed a well-aimed kick against her shin. 
Still, after dinner, you spoke to him for one of the first times. There had been the introduction when Tommy had brought you over, of course, but this was willing on your end. “Thank you,” You had told him, though didn’t make eye contact. “For dinner, and well, yeah.” 
He had nodded at you, a tense smile on his lips, but it was a friendly gesture. Or, as friendly of a gesture as Joel could muster. He remembers the way you had scurried up the stairs almost immediately after, having stuck around only to help clean up and give your thanks. 
You started joining them for dinner more after that, though Joel had the suspicion that the first half a dozen times were at Ellie’s command. But with time, and some patience, you warmed up to him just as you had to Ellie. You spoke more, asked more questions, even cracked a few jokes that he was sure you had gotten from one of Ellie’s books. It surprised him how… relieved he was to see the break in your awkwardness. 
It had been the first time Joel had seen you with Tommy outside of when he had dropped you at his and Ellie’s that he realised you had a lot more warming up to do than he had thought. There you were, walking at Tommy’s side, chatting animatedly, hands flying around in gestures, face lit up like Joel had never seen before, and all the while Tommy only shook his head, fond smile on his face. There was a certain warmth on Tommy’s face that Joel had only seen when his little brother had been looking at his newborn child, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had dropped you off at Joel’s if he felt that way? If he saw you as his own?
He tried to ask him those very questions more than once, but each time he found himself somewhat afraid of the answer he’d receive. Joel knew his little brother had always looked up to him, after all, that tends to happen when you practically raise the kid, but after everything… Joel found that he didn’t think he could live up to Tommy’s expectations of him any longer. Maybe, even if Joel would never admit it out loud, he didn’t want to see Tommy realise he couldn’t live up to the idealised version of himself his little brother saw him as. 
It was already hard enough with having Ellie — the weight of everything he had lied to her about was tangible, an iron fence putting distance between the two of them. He tried to ignore it. Ellie did, too, but the truth was that she had lost some amount of trust in him. He saw it in the crease of her brows when they spoke, the slant of her lips when he left for patrol, hell — even in the way her gaze changed when she looked at him. It was like she saw somebody she didn’t quite recognise.
Joel felt like he was fighting a losing battle. He’d steel himself before dinners, he’d harden his features before coming home from patrols, he’d even lock himself in his little studio. And yet each time he saw you, there was an unmistakeable softness brought to his features, reminiscent of how it felt to look at Ellie. Each time you would come to him for help, he’d remind himself that he couldn’t be the person that everybody needed him to be. He’d remind himself that he would never — could never — be the person you so clearly wanted him to be. 
Because it was more than obvious. Joel wasn’t blind, even if his sight wasn’t what it used to be. He could see it in the way you looked to him for help, in the way you’d heed his advice like you never doubted he could be wrong about something. It was clear in the way you looked at him, like he had the ability to carve the world into whatever he desired, like he possessed a strength you didn’t. You looked at him as if he could save you, and the truth was that Joel couldn’t even save himself. 
He was an old man, a foolish man. Joel drowned in guilt he had brought upon himself, liquid a kind of heaviness that settled into his aged lungs. When he looked at you, he saw Sarah. He saw the resemblance in the way the both of you looked out for him — where Sarah had often cooked breakfast, you scraped together some form of dinner when he was on a late patrol, where Sarah had forced vitamin-rich drinks into his hand, you placed painkillers — that must’ve cost a fortune to trade for — on the kitchen counter when he hurt his knee on a patrol. He saw it in the way you looked up to him, the way you believed in him, and it’s like a mirror image of the night his life went to ruin. A reflection of his daughter dying in his arms each time you looked to him for safety. 
What could he provide? What could Joel provide that Tommy couldn’t? Hell — that anybody couldn’t? Perhaps, he wondered, the guarantee of disappointment. 
“So,” Tommy started one night, sat by his side at the small bar in town, eyebrows raised as he held a glass of twenty-two year old bourbon. “How’s life with the kid? Handlin’ two kids?”
Joel vividly remembers his response, despite his lowered tolerance for alcohol and the multitude of glasses he’d had that night. “You ever gonna get that kid a new place? Not my responsibility to look after your goddamn strays, y’know.” His voice had been gruff, harsh. He thinks, looking back on it, that it digs the pit of regret in his stomach deeper.
“They givin’ you trouble, or something?” Tommy had asked, all furrowed eyebrows then, an expression of something close to disbelief on his face. “Been a good kid, as long as I’ve known ‘em.” 
“They’re a good kid, alright, just not my kid.” Joel had replied, scornfully. It was a low blow, he knew now, but he could remember the pounding in his chest, blood rushing through his ears, when he heard you yell out one night. It had been a bad dream, not that you’d admit to it, but Joel was familiar. He could’ve sworn his heart was going to stop that night, the way adrenaline rushed through him, the way he had leaped from his bed as if expecting to have to defend you and Ellie from an onslaught of attackers. 
Tommy scoffed in response, and he had averted his eyes, looking away from his older brother as he took a sip of the alcohol that was warming his veins. “Y’know what? I’ll get ‘em a new place, and when it breaks their goddamn heart, I’ll let ‘em know the reason why you wanted them out. Not my kid.” Tommy had shaken his head, and had bid him goodnight soon after. Joel remembers drowning the sting the conversation left him with using decades-old booze. 
Now, Joel can pretty confidently say that Tommy hadn’t been looking to get you a new place until that conversation. It wasn’t more than a few weeks after that that you came home with a frown marred across your face, returning much later from canteen-duty than usual. He had been walking to the hall to grab his boots when you had gotten in. 
Your expression had only deepened further as you practically stomped into the house, kicking your unlaced boots off in the hallway. “You alright, kiddo?” Joel had asked, brows creased, and he remembers the way the movement reminded him of his younger brother. 
“’M fine.” You had muttered out, all stormy expression and blunt words. Joel only tilted his head at you. “Tommy stopped by, said they’re gettin’ me a new place across town. Nearby the school.” You had told him, and your expression was almost hopeful as you waited for his response. 
“Oh,” Joel had uttered, expression blank for a moment as he nodded his head, almost mindlessly. “Well, that’s good, right?” He responded, eyes studying you almost cautiously. If he hadn’t been looking, he probably would’ve missed the way your face dropped at his response, as if you had been hoping for him to say something else. Instead, you had let out a quiet scoff, before stomping away with a ‘sure’ said lamely back to him. Joel had looked after you, face plastered with confusion, but his mind had known, even back then, the reason for your disdain. Instead of going after you, of saying anything more on the matter, Joel had foolishly just wiped a hand across his face, and had murmured, “Teenagers.” 
For the days after that, you seemed withdrawn but hopeful, as if Joel would finally voice what you had been waiting to hear. He didn’t see much of Ellie, who had made more friends her own age, including some girls named Dina and Cat. Apparently, you weren’t in on that friendship. Which had left you at the house with him, the crease between your brows getting deeper each time things remained silent. 
Still, Joel was firm. This was what was meant to happen all along. You were never meant to be a permanent fixture of their lives. 
So when the day was finally upon them, Joel accompanied you and his younger brother to your new place, carrying your backpack over one of his shoulders. He had tried to ignore the itchy, uncomfortable feeling in his chest. 
“It’s a nice place.” Joel had commented, when the silence stretched for far too long, looking around the studio-like bungalow. It was a converted garage, much like what Ellie was going to have in his back yard, whenever the team could help Joel finish converting it. He was almost surprised when Tommy brought them here, however. For whatever reason, Joel hadn’t thought about the fact that you’d be living alone. 
“Yeah, it’s great.” You responded flatly, picking at the cover on what was meant to be your new bed almost absently. Joel dropped your backpack beside the door, nodding his head as he took it all in. You tried not to scoff. “You know Joel, I think it’d be better for me to settle in. Alone.” You said, voice just a step away from miserable, expression blank as you looked at him, at the way he nodded his head, seemingly resigned to this conclusion. 
“Sure thing, kid.” Joel sighed out, looking back in when he was stood in the doorway. He tapped his knuckles against the doorframe, opening his mouth to say something, but stopping before anything came out. Instead, he had just nodded, leaving with his hands in his pockets. 
He returned to a quiet house, Ellie once again somewhere in town with Dina and Cat, having missed your moving day. Joel quickly found that the silence, the emptiness in the house, was uncomfortable. He hadn’t truly realised just how used to your presence he had gotten. Still, this was for the best. Joel didn’t need another kid on his hands. He’d failed more than once, and that was telling enough. He still couldn’t figure out why Tommy had brought you to him in the first place!
Joel didn’t see you for two days afterwards, though he had asked about you, cornering Tommy and demanding to know how you were settling in. It was unsettling when Tommy had only shrugged, expression harsh and unforgiving. 
When he finally did see you again, it was at the Tipsy Bison, where he was sipping at amber liquid, waiting for his younger brother to finish talking to someone down the other end of the bar. “Joel!” You called out, immediately drawing his attention. He stood from the stool he had been sat on, brows creased in concern, drink abandoned on the wooden bar top. 
“Everythin’ alright?” He asked, confused and concerned all at once. 
“No!” You yelled immediately, seemingly outraged by his question, your features practically collapsing in on themselves. You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he didn’t miss the way your hands trembled. “You asked them to move me!” You accused, and Joel quickly realised that this was the first time he had seen you outwardly upset. Every other time, your expression had been made of stone, voice cautiously flat. Now, here, your features were like clay, looking as if you had reshaped them over and over, trying to resist the slant of sadness that took over them. There was a distinctive gloss across your eyes, shining and trembling as you tried to force the tears away. “Admit it, Joel! You wanted me gone and you didn’t have the guts to tell me.”
Joel sighed, rubbing his fingers across his brows, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He glared across the bar at where Tommy was observing, false innocence on his face. He was quick to notice that Tommy wasn’t the only one watching, eyes on the two of you as you waited for his response expectantly. “Kid, it was always a temporary thing. You knew that.” He said, hands on his hips as he shifted his stance. 
Clearly, that wasn’t the response you wanted to hear, your features falling further, crumpling downwards, and Joel frowned. “It’s not fair.” You said, voice breaking off halfway through, and you swiped your sleeve across your nose, rubbing tears away from your eyes with your fingertips. 
“Life ain’t fair, kid, that’s the truth of it.” Joel responded, looking at your face as if your expression held answers to a question he hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry. But you got your own life now, your own place, you can live however you want. Doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me.” 
“I don’t want any of it.” You told him, brows furrowed, the crease between them so deep that Joel was sure it was going to become a permanent fixture of your face. His own frown deepened when you blinked and tears marred your cheeks. “It’s not fair,” You repeated, hand outstretched as if you were reaching for him. “Why do I have to be alone?” You asked, and Joel’s face fell, clearly not expecting that question. 
Tommy chose that moment to intervene, stepping in between you and Joel, glancing back at his older brother before focusing his full attention on you. He murmured words that Joel could only presume were reassurance. Joel noticed Tommy’s guiding hand on your shoulder as he led you out of the bar, neither of you glancing back. He ignored the stares on him as he turned back to the bar, finished his drink, and left, going home. 
He encountered the two of you just down the street, sharing quiet words that seemed harsh even from a distance. Joel thought about turning back, but found himself approaching cautiously. 
“Everythin’ alright?” Joel repeated his earlier question, hands outstretched when the two of you turned to him, the setting sun throwing a shade of orange across both of your faces. You openly glared at him, eyes squinted in a show of unrelenting anger, or maybe, more accurately, hurt. 
“Go back inside, Joel.” Tommy told him, sounding nothing short of exasperated between dealing with you and dealing with Joel. He sounded tired, too. “Better yet, go home!” 
“Listen,” Joel sighed, trying to reach some form of a truce. You cut him off when he opened his mouth to continue. 
“No, Joel, Tommy’s right. Go home. I’ve heard enough.” You said, almost scoldingly, and Joel felt as if he was talking to Sarah again, as if it was her telling him off for something. He tried not to think of that last night, of the cake he’d forgotten, of the watch she’d gifted him, but a glance down it said watch reminded him of his failures. “I’m not your kid, remember?” You reminded him, throwing the words he’d said to his brother back in his face. At least this time, Tommy had the idea to look somewhat guilty for telling you that tidbit of information. 
Joel frowned at you, cursing himself for his past words. He didn’t want to hurt you. Hell, that was the whole reason he wanted you gone! Joel was trying to protect you from him, from his inevitable failure. He had never really considered that perhaps this was his failure, that perhaps isolating you to a garage apartment on the other side of town was him failing you. 
You stared at him, feeling that bricked up wall around your heart reforming, a promise in the back of your mind forming, a promise that said you wouldn’t let yourself be hurt again. “Go home.” You repeated, the words bitter on your tongue, a thought so sharp in your mind appearing that you physically flinched. Why couldn’t Joel understand? He was the only semblance of home you’d ever had, and he had taken that way from you. You thought that for once, you had found somewhere that you belonged, that you had found people who wanted you around, but you were wrong. Nobody wanted you around. At least that much was clear, at least you could be sure about that one thing. 
When you had gone to Tommy all those months ago, your chest empty, tears staining your face, you hadn’t trusted his promise that Joel and Ellie would be good for you. You had been so determined to prove him wrong that you had avoided them, had fled the house more than once just to stay away from the two of them. It was horrible, at the start, it was suffocating. Living in a home that wasn’t yours, intruding on a father who wasn’t your own, a daughter who could never be your sister. To begin with, it had been the most isolated you had ever felt. 
Up until that night that it all changed, where you and Ellie had laughed until you cried, sharing jokes and stories just to make one another laugh. It had taken a deeper turn from there, to sharing your experiences in the world that strived to end you. You told Ellie things that you had never told anyone, not even Tommy, certainly not Joel, and she had trusted you with things from her journey with Joel in return. Her voice was coloured with warmth when she spoke of him, though it got more despondent when she got to more recent events. Still, it was that very warmth that eventually caused you to relent to her dinner requests. 
And then, finally, you had taken to joining them for dinner without being prompted. 
You can remember speaking to Tommy about the two of them, about how things had started looking up, about how he may have been right about Joel and Ellie being good for you. Hell, you can remember seeing Joel from the corner of your eye as you told Tommy about becoming closer to Ellie, about a story she had told you. 
Now, you wish Tommy would’ve just left you in the state you were pre-Joel and Ellie, because it would have been better than this. It was an all-encompassing ache that surpassed being purely physical. It bled poison deep into your soul, like acid crumbling the pieces of happiness that had begun to sew back together. It hurt. At least before, you knew that the pain wasn’t your fault, that it couldn’t have been. This pain, however, came from your very roots. You had been unequivocally you whilst with Joel and Ellie, and it had come back to bite you. You can’t help but wonder if, just maybe, you had kept to yourself, if you hadn’t immersed yourself in a life that didn’t belong to you, you would’ve avoided this pain. Because the reason Joel kicked you out was because it was you. That was the only explanation. After all, he kept Ellie around, and she wasn’t his kid in the same way you weren’t.
“Kid…”
“I’m not your kid, Joel. Go home and leave me alone. I don’t wanna say it again.” You responded, firm, voice bordering on trembling. Joel watched, with some amount of confusion, as you turned to Tommy, bearing your teeth at him like it would push him away. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.” 
Tommy flinched as if the words were a physical blow, and you missed the betrayed look he gave Joel as you stormed away, walking with purpose towards your garage apartment, where you lived alone. Always alone. From this experience, you could safely say you were ready for it to stay that way.
834 notes · View notes
aflame4goinghome · 2 months
Text
Illicit Affairs
d.r.w x reader
chapter i
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Summary: There’s no harm in having a one-night stand with a captivating musician at a jazz club the weekend before the fall semester, right? Usually that would be the case, but this time, it was very different. After finding out what he does for a living, your entire world is turned upside down, sending you head first into a relationship that even you might not be able to handle. Good luck.
Word Count: 7.3k
Warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!!! alcohol, swearing, flirting, SMUT: fingering, touching, sexually-implicit language, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, hairpulling, semi-public sex, praise kink if you squint, hint of dom/sub dynamic
A/N: This story is in collaboration with my wonderful, talented friends @gretavanstink & @childinthegardenn!! Go give them a follow and give @gretavanstink’s fics some love! We’re so excited to share this journey with you all, we can’t wait for you to find out what’s next. Enjoy! Love ya!
Listen to the official playlist on Spotify here!
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“Is this it here?” you ask, looking over at Rose in your passenger seat as you slow down in front of the apartment building. She looks down at her phone to check the GPS then nods her head.
“Looks like it… I think I see a spot there in the front,” she answers. You quickly pull into the parking spot and then put the car in park. “Here we are!” you say, smiling at Rose before turning the car off, opening your door, and stepping out onto the street.
The neighborhood seemed quiet and calm, for it being so close to downtown Detroit. You feel pleasantly surprised as you take a look around. You walk around to the trunk of your car, pressing down the button and lifting the hatch. Your apartment came mostly furnished, so you and Rose luckily didn’t have to bring much besides your clothes and general necessities.
You’ve known your best friend Rose since the two of you were 11 years old, when your elementary schools merged to become one big middle school. You were placed in the same homeroom and you became fast friends, having a lot in common. You’ve been inseparable ever since, leaving your small town in northern Michigan to move to Detroit for college together. 
Going into your third year at Wayne State University in midtown Detroit, you both found an apartment together off campus. The first day of class is in two days, giving you some time to get settled in at your new place before getting thrown into the busyness of the semester.
Grabbing your suitcases, you and Rose head up into your new apartment. You buzz the front door to the lobby, head inside, and gather your keys from the leasing office before taking the elevator up to the sixth floor. With an ecstatic smile on your face, you finally turn the key to open the front door and walk inside. 
It’s a modest place, not too big or too small. There’s a large window in the living area, giving you a view of the rest of the neighborhood, since you were on the sixth floor. There are two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, and an in-unit washer/dryer, which you’re eternally grateful for. This was the most room you’ve ever had to yourself since you spent your first two years of university living on campus in the dorms. 
The two of you take a short look around the apartment together before going back downstairs to grab the rest of your things, then branch off into your own bedrooms to begin unpacking. The room already had a full-sized bed, a desk, and a tall dresser. There was a lot of closet space as well, which is a rare find in the city. 
You start by first unpacking your trusty record player, which you bring everywhere you go. Gifted to you by your grandfather for your 16th birthday, you’ve had it in your bedroom and have been adding to your collection ever since. You set it up on the top of your dresser, connect the speakers, and then plug it into the outlet below. You then uncover your record crate and pull out your favorite album of the month: The Queen Is Dead by the Smiths. You carefully remove the record from its protective sleeve, place it on the turntable, bring the needle to the edge of the record, and put it down.
As the music begins to play softly through the speakers, you turn around to open up your suitcase and start unpacking your clothes. You spend about half an hour putting your clothes away in the drawers and hanging some items up in the closet. Then, you go to make your bed, breaking out the new sheets and comforter set you just bought. After making the bed, you attach a handful of small adhesive hooks along the top of the wall behind your bed and hang a strand of lights to add some warm lighting to your space. 
Finally, you pick up your box full of books and bring it to the living room. The apartment came with a large wooden bookcase along one of the side walls, across from the couch and next to the cabinet that the TV rests on. You struggle to carry the box, practically slamming it onto the coffee table when you finally reach the living room. 
Admittedly, you brought way too many books with you— that box felt like it weighed at least 50 pounds. But as a philosophy major, reading is pretty much all you do. Despite that, it’s just a hobby that you particularly enjoy. You start by taking out all of your philosophy books and placing them on the middle shelf– Plato’s The Republic, Epictetus’ Discourses, Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations, and many more. Then, on the top shelf, some of your favorite reads– your Shakespeare Complete Collection, The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Great Gatsby, Little Women, Jane Eyre. You left the bottom shelf for whatever Rose might want to add, but you know that it will likely end up full of trinkets rather than books.
As you finish straightening up the living room, Rose walks out and sits down on the couch. “Ugh, moving sucks,” she laments, throwing her head back with a groan. You sit down next to her, throwing your arm around her and putting your head down on her shoulder.
“I know, right? At least we’re all finished now, though,” you say. 
“I’m hungry,” she says, “Wanna go get some pizza?” Your lips quickly turn up into a smile.
“Is that even a question you have to ask?” you reply, standing up from the couch and offering her your hand to help her up. You both retreat to your separate rooms to get ready to go out before going to eat.
Detroit in the summer can sometimes be brutal in the daytime, but at night, it can get pretty cold. You decide on a black cropped v-neck top and throw on a flannel just in case you get cold, pairing it with a pair of ripped denim jeans and your Converse. You take the top half of your hair and pull it back, leaving some strands out in the front. You decide to put on a bit of base makeup, but nothing too detailed. 
· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·
The two of you agree to go to your favorite pizza place downtown to eat dinner, so you grab your car keys and head out the door. It’s only about a ten-minute drive, so you get there rather quickly. The sun is setting now since it’s a bit past 8 p.m., and the view as you drive toward the Detroit River is like no other. You finally arrive at the restaurant and sit down to eat, feeling practically starving at this point. This really was your absolute favorite restaurant in the city. To you, there was nothing quite like Detroit-style pizza. It felt like home to you, and was exactly the comfort meal you needed right now. 
After a delicious and much-needed meal, you and Rose exit the pizza place, turning the corner and walking toward where you parked the car. It’s dark outside now, and as you walk to your car, you’re nearly blinded by the lights of what seems to be a neon sign. It read “Cliff Bell’s” and there was a standing sign on the ground that said “Runway Blues Combo, August 24th, 9-11:30 p.m.” You can hear the distant sound of a saxophone and other instruments from inside, filling you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. You check your watch, which reads 9:25 p.m. 
“Come on, we have to go in!” you exclaim, pulling Rose by the arm to enter the bar. You show the bouncer your IDs then head over to the bar, waiting in the large crowd to order a drink. You look over at the band on the stage at the back of the bar, somewhat recognizing the song they were playing– Basie, you think. The bartender finally turns to you and asks for your order, so you order a vodka cranberry, wait for Rose to get her drink, and then you both go toward the stage to see and hear the band better without the big crowd. 
As you get closer to the stage, your eyes immediately fall on the drummer. At first, it’s the audacity to wear sunglasses inside that draws your attention– rose-tinted lenses with a gold frame. Then, you admire his shoulder-length, dark curls, bouncing along to the rhythm of the song. Finally, you notice the way the muscles in his forearms contract as he plays, his veins tightening as he hits the snare drum during a particular drum fill. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to sit right above his elbow, showing just enough of his arms to leave you wanting more. He has most of the buttons undone, only leaving a few buttoned at the bottom, accentuating the dark hair on his chest.
For most of the set, his eyes are often closed– he seems to be concentrated on the music, like he’s feeling it flow through him and letting his soul take control. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t intrigue you, he’s ridiculously attractive and seems to be incredibly talented. At one point during the set, though, his eyes open and seem to be drawn right to you. You convince yourself that the eye contact was just a coincidence and that he was just finding a spot in the room to lock his eyes on, but when he suddenly gives a distinct wink in your direction, you know that it wasn’t just a coincidence. He saw you. 
You try your best to fight off the blush that is starting to populate your cheeks, not wanting to show how much it affected you. Luckily, the room is darkly lit and crowded, so you hope that it will go unnoticed. You can’t deny the butterflies in your stomach, and how good it felt to know that his eyes were on you. 
You excuse yourself, leaving Rose up front to save your spot as you go to get yourself another drink. Rose agreed to drive home, not feeling like drinking much tonight, so you decide to allow yourself to have some more to drink. After the bartender hands you your drink, you decide to stay there to finish it, hoping to get another soon after to add to your buzz and hopefully quell the nervous feelings you had inside over this mysterious drummer. 
You’ve only had about half of your next drink when you hear someone on stage say that the band is going to take a brief intermission. Soon after, you’re taking a sip of your drink and suddenly feel a tall presence to your right at the bar. You look over to see that it’s none other than the band’s drummer. When he catches your eye, he smiles at you for a moment before turning back to the bartender. 
“Hey, man. Can I get an old fashioned?” he asks, then looks back over to you. He looks down at your near-empty glass, then back up to meet your eyes as he says, “And another of whatever she’s having.”  He flashes you another smile as he sees the shade of pink start to cover your cheeks, sitting down on the stool next to you. The bartender hands you both your drinks and then walks off to help other customers.
“Saw you there in the front. Did you enjoy the set?” he asks as he removes his sunglasses, places them on the bar, then takes a sip of his drink. 
“Oh, it was great! It’s been a while since I’ve heard live jazz, you guys are phenomenal,” you answer, smiling shyly as you take a sip of your drink, looking up at him next to you. Now that you were up close and personal with him, you couldn’t help but notice how tall he was– at least two heads taller than you were, you thought. And a little older than you had placed him when you saw him on stage. From far away you had guessed maybe his early to mid-twenties, but up close you wagered closer to thirty.
“Glad to hear that. What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning his arm on the bar as he turns his body toward you. “Y/N,” you answer, blushing slightly at the nickname. 
“Y/N. Beautiful,” he says, his lips turning upward into a small smile. “Daniel.” He takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips, and places a soft kiss on the back of your hand.
“It’s not often that we see gorgeous girls like you in here, Y/N…” he says, leaning down a bit to talk directly into your ear. You assume that it’s due to the volume of the room, but then he takes you by surprise. “It’s even less often that I see a gorgeous girl undress me with her eyes while I’m on stage, like you just did back there.” You gulp quietly, completely taken aback by his direct words. He wasn’t wrong, you were attracted to him and certainly made no effort to hide it. 
“Oh, I-” you start, but end up trailing off before he interrupts. 
“Did you think you got away with it?” Daniel asks, smirking as his right hand reaches over to trail his fingers along your forearm, which is resting on the bar. His lips are practically touching your ear now, sending a shiver down your spine. “I noticed… Been thinkin’ about you ever since.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” you say, in almost a whisper, so much so that it was quite possible that he couldn’t hear it, but he did. You allow your hand to ghost softly along his wrist. Your fingers find the thin gold chain around his wrist as you look up to meet his gaze, his face is so close now that your noses are practically touching. 
“Yeah?” he says. You take a deep breath, looking up at him as you watch him lick his lips. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ about…” You could already feel your arousal start to pool between your legs, the anticipation making it feel like your heart could stop at any moment. You swallow hard as you try to answer him.
“I was thinking about how strong your arms looked,” you answer, trying to feign confidence despite how intimidating his aura felt. “Watching you play the drums and seeing your muscles flexing like that through your shirt… It was really hot.” He smirks, clearly pleased by your answer, and lowers his lips to your ear once again. You can feel his breath on your ear as he continues.
“Was it?” he asks teasingly. You feel his lips finally connect with your skin as he places a soft, lingering kiss on your neck, right below your ear. “Tell me what else.” Your breath hitches as his lips descend slowly down your neck. 
“I thought about what the rest of you might look like under that shirt,” you say, leaning your head back slightly as he sucks right on the sensitive part of your neck.
“All you had to do was ask, baby…” he says, kissing his way back up to your ear.
“What were you thinking about?” you ask, your confidence starting to shine through. He smiles as he whispers into your ear.
“Thought about how good your tits look in that tight shirt,” he says as he wraps his arms around your back, holding you close. “Thought about how I wanted you to only look at me and no one else…” He sucks at the skin below your ear, causing you to let out a quiet whimper only he can hear.
“I’m only looking at you, Daniel,” you say, turning to look at him. His lips turn upward into a wicked smile.
“You wanna go somewhere a bit quieter, baby?” he whispers, softly brushing his nose against yours, moving his lips even closer. Your breath feels like it’s been taken out of your chest, but you don’t have time to waste. You quickly nod and he takes your hand in his, guiding you toward the back hallway that leads backstage. 
Once you round the corner of the hallway and are out of sight from the rest of the bar, Daniel stops you, pushing your back against the wall as his lips race to meet yours. He captures your lips in his as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His kiss is hurried and rough, something that you weren’t used to but definitely welcomed. The feeling of his body against yours was already making you lightheaded, and the alcohol in your system certainly wasn’t helping matters.
Keeping his lips on yours, he pulls your back off the wall, walking over to the one-stall bathroom only a few feet away. He removes one of his hands from you to quickly open the door, taking you both past it and letting it close behind him. 
He backs you against the sink and your ass hits the hard porcelain, causing you to wince and drop your purse on the floor. He takes his lips off of you for a moment and says, “The lock on this door doesn’t work.” His lips travel along your jawline and then down your neck. He continues, “But I bet you don’t care about that, do you, sweetheart?”
“I-” you begin but are quickly cut off as he pulls your v-neck to the side, his teeth dragging against the skin over your collarbone. A gasp escapes you and you tangle your fingers in his curls, every touch of his lips to your skin sending electricity shooting through you.
“In fact, I’m sure you don’t,” he says against your skin, his breath warm and tinged with whiskey. His fingers slip under the strap of your bra, lifting the elastic up and letting it snap back against your skin. He flicks his gaze up to meet yours, finding you staring at him wide eyed, and he smirks as he tugs your bra down, lips dropping back down to suck an already deepening purple mark just below where your shirt lays.
You’re grateful for the sink behind you, holding up your body, as you feel how weak your knees are. You feel like a fawn who has found herself face to face with a hunter in the woods and every word he utters, every touch he places on you, adds to the growing arousal between your legs. You don’t find yourself speechless often, but now is one of those times.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Daniel asks, noticing how your knees wobbled just slightly, and lifts his head to look at you again, his hips pinning you firmly to the sink. You can feel him, long and hard, against your abdomen, the thought sending tingles through your body.
“Maybe you need a rest,” he smirks, stepping back from you and leaning against the wall next to the door. “On your knees.”
Your hands grip the sides of the sink as you stare at him with wide eyes, hesitating to let go for fear that your legs would give out from under you. Slowly, you lower yourself to the ground in front of him, letting your hands rest in your lap and looking up at him through your eyelashes.
Daniel looks down at you intensely, his gaze feeling like fire, and brings his hand down to your face. He drags his thumb over your cheekbone, down the side of your face, along your jaw, and finally stops at your lips. Placing his thumb on your bottom lip, he gently pulls down, tilting his chin up slightly and looking down his nose at you.
“Open,” he growls, waiting a moment for you to do as he says. You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly dry, and let your mouth fall open, much to Daniel’s pleasure. “Good girl.”
His thumb moves from your bottom lip to your tongue and you close your lips around it, your tongue swirling around it. He hums, pleased, and pulls his thumb from your mouth with a pop.
“Eager, are we?” Daniel teases, his hands working to undo his belt. He leaves it in his belt loops, the buckle hanging undone, and unbuttons his dress slacks. You watch as he drags his zipper down, now able to see his cock straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs, and pushes his pants and underwear down enough to free himself. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him as your gaze travels from the dark, well-groomed patch of hair above his base, down his length to his tip.
“Fuck,” you whisper, barely audible, as your gaze returns to meet Daniel’s. He strokes himself a few times, smirking down at you. With his free hand, he reaches down and runs his thumb across your lower lip once more.
“You seem to know what to do, sweetheart,” Daniel says as you open for him again, sticking your tongue out flat. He nods approvingly and lowers his cock, dragging his tip along your tongue before he pushes himself into your mouth. A low groan rumbles from his chest as you close your lips around him. “Just like fucking velvet.”
He gathers your hair into a ponytail and allows you to set your own pace as he watches his cock slide past your lips. You take him all the way in, widening the back of your throat so you don’t gag, and pause when your lips reach his base. Flicking your eyes up, you find Daniel staring down at you slack-jawed, his pupils blending into his irises seamlessly. You slowly start to draw your head back, the tip of your tongue following the path of the vein that runs the length of his shaft. Your tongue swirls around his tip, drawing a soft moan from his lips as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall.
“Fucking hell,” he groans as you pick up your pace, his grasp on your hair tightening as his hips buck involuntarily. You gag slightly as his tip hits the back of your throat and you flash your gaze up to him, moaning around him to entice him to keep going. Daniel’s eyes flash open and he looks down at you for confirmation, which you give to him in the form of a nod. 
“You’re fucking dangerous,” he says, letting your hair fall from the makeshift ponytail he held and tangling his fingers in it instead. He starts to fuck your mouth, slowly at first to not overwhelm you. Rough, but considerate, you think as his tip knocks the back of your throat. Once he’s sure you’re adjusted he picks up his pace, his hand holding your head in place. He lets another low moan fill the room as you hum around him.
“Daniel?” you hear a man’s voice on the other side of the door ask. “Is that you? Are you good, dude?”
Daniel’s head rolls to glance at the door, still fucking your throat as he speaks up through the door. “I’m fine,” he says, attempting a voice that doesn’t sound like he’s getting his dick sucked in the bathroom.
“You sure? We’re back on stage at 10:30,” the stranger reminds him, attempting to push the door open. Daniel’s free arm darts across the door, blocking it from opening.
“I fucking know, Sam!” he yells, his fingers tightening in your hair as he drives his cock to the back of your throat harshly. You gag around him this time, tears springing to your eyes and threatening to fall down your cheeks. You hear the man scoff on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of his footsteps receding, and you look up at Daniel. He glances at his watch, seeing that it’s 10:20 pm, and then meets your gaze, winks, and says, “Let’s make this quick, sweetheart.”
He pulls your mouth off of him and offers you a hand to stand up, which you graciously take, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Your lips collide in a fervent kiss, tongues tangling and hands gripping at each others’ clothes. Daniel’s hands find the button on your jeans and swiftly pop it open, followed by your zipper. He spins you around quickly and tugs your jeans down over your ass, letting them rest around your thighs as he guides you forward to bend over the sink.
“My god, Y/N,” he murmurs, seeing the soaked state of your plum-colored panties. Daniel loops his fingers in the waistband and tugs them down, the sudden cool air mixed with unbridled anticipation making you shiver. His fingertips grip into your ass for a moment before he draws his hand back and delivers a solid smack to your outer thigh, drawing a whimper from your throat. He drops to his knees behind you and drags a finger through your center, watching as you shiver again. Placing his finger onto his tongue, he cleans your arousal off and hums.
“Sweeter than sin,” he muses, licking a stripe up your inner thigh and smirking to himself as your legs quivered in response. He grips your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises, and pushes them apart, dragging his tongue through your folds slowly. You gasp as he laps at your core, your fingers gripping the porcelain harshly, and you arch your back, pushing back against his face.
“Oh my god,” you moan, your head dropping as he moans into you, the vibration ripping right through you. Daniel pulls his face away and you whine desperately at the loss of contact, gasping a second later as he pushes two fingers into you and curls them. He sets a quick, consistent pace with his fingers, bringing you closer to the edge as you bite your lip to try to stifle your moans. 
“I’m…I’m close,” you manage, his fingers working relentlessly at your sensitive spot.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. “Give it to me.”
He curls his fingers once more and your vision goes white, your moans filling the room as you cum on his fingers. Your legs shake as he works you through it, his motions slowing as your moans turn to ragged panting. He feels for his wallet in his pocket, but realizes he must have left it backstage, and he stands, placing a hand on your lower back.
“I don’t have a condom,” he confesses, watching you for a reaction. You lift your head and look at him through the mirror and shrug your shoulders.
“I’m clean and I have an IUD,” you say, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Are you clean?”
Daniel nods and smirks, stroking himself as his eyes traverse your body. You let your head fall again, arch your back, and say, “What are you waiting for then?”
“Careful what you wish for, darling,” he says, dragging his cock through your wetness and pushing into you until your bodies are flush. You gasp as you feel him brush your cervix and you feel yourself tighten around him. He groans and grips your waist, your pussy squeezing his cock as you adjust to his size. “Fuck, and I thought your mouth felt like heaven.”
He pulls back and snaps his hips forward, driving you into the sink as you push your ass back against him. Obscenities intertwined with the other’s name fall from both of your lips as he fucks you. 
Daniel reaches up with one hand and collects your hair into a ponytail again, wrapping your tresses around his hand and tugging your head back. Your eyes meet in the mirror, a smirk touching his lips as he says, “Want you to watch me fuck you, baby.”
You brace yourself on the sink and cry out quietly, the intense arch in your back allowing him to drive his cock deeper. His hand on your waist lifts and comes down on your ass with a loud crack and you whimper, your sounds spurring him on. You can feel your second orgasm coming on as you watch yourself in the mirror, mouth agape as lewd sounds tumble out of you. 
“Daniel…” you moan, looking up at him through the mirror. He looks like a god, his lips parted and his curls falling into his eyes as he snaps his hips forward again. “I’m…fuck,” you pant out, your muscles squeezing around him as you fall apart around him.
“That’s it, baby,” he praises, his fingers kneading into your ass. “Cum on my cock, just like that.” 
Your muscles squeeze around him one final time as he pulls out almost all the way, groaning as he slams into you and spills his own release. You feel his cock twitch inside of you and his breath on your back as he leans over you, his orgasm wracking his body. He slides out of you after a moment and tucks himself back into his pants before he cleans you up the best he can with some toilet paper.
“Thanks,” you say, suddenly shy as if you hadn’t let a man you just met fuck you in a bathroom, and you tug your underwear and jeans back up. He smiles at your sudden bashfulness and nods, watching you pick your purse up from where it had fallen.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he says with a wink. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours in a much more tender fashion than he had earlier. “Stay for another set?”
Your face flushes as you look up at him, studying his face for a moment, your eyes focusing on the shape of his nose. As your eyes move to study his lips, you realize he’s asking you a question and you’re missing it. You shake away the fog clouding your thoughts and focus.
“Oh, um,” you say as you pull your phone out of your purse and see about 20 texts and 2 missed calls from Rose, probably in a full-on panic now that you’ve been gone and ignoring her texts. “Shit, I’m in trouble. Gotta run, see you around maybe!”
You rush out the door, leaving him by himself, and stand up on your toes to see over the crowd. You spot Rose back by the door and push through the crowd as quickly as you can, putting your arm up and waving her down.
“Oh my god, where the fuck have you been?” she scolds you as you approach her. You grab her wrist and pull her closer so you can talk in her ear.
“We have to go,” you say, pulling her behind you towards the door.
“Wait wait, what?” She asks as she resists you, pulling you to stop. “What the fuck happened?”
“Oh my god,” you say, drawing out the last word, tugging her along. “I’ll tell you while we walk.”
She relents and follows after you, telling the bouncers to have a good night. She catches up to you and links your arms as you walk back towards where the car is parked. Once you were far enough away, you burst into a giddy giggling fit and lean against a light post to catch your breath. Rose moves to the edge of the sidewalk and folds her arms over her chest, watching you with a raised eyebrow.
“Okay, spill. What did I miss,” she prods, nudging your foot with hers. Your head falls back against the light post gently and you turn your head to look at her.
“You know the drummer?” You ask, giggling again. Rose nods and tilts her head to the side, waiting for you to continue. “We just fucked in the bathroom.”
You cover your mouth dramatically after you say it and smile under your hands. Her mouth falls open and she grabs your wrist, pulling you off the post to start walking again.
“Oh my god, he was hot, Y/N,” she says, tugging you along. You catch up with her as you’re turning the corner to the car and nod.
“Mhm, I know,” you say, satisfaction dripping from your voice. You climb into the passenger seat and watch Rose walk around to the driver’s side. She climbs in and starts the car up, pulling onto the street and driving back towards your apartment. “Oh my god and he was good,” you add, tossing your head back against the headrest.
Rose shakes her head and laughs, “You’re fucking insane, you know?”
You nod dramatically and close your eyes as Rose rounds the corner to your street, pulling into the apartment lot and throwing the car into park. You climb out and start towards the building, slowing down so Rose can catch up. You walk into the building together and ride the elevator up to your floor.
“I thought the piano guy was hot,” she confesses, turning to look at you as you lean against the elevator wall. This sends you into another laughing fit.
“He almost walked in on us!” You shout, slapping Rose’s arm as you remember Danny blocking the door while you were on your knees.
“No way!” She clings to you and laughs with you. You both stumble out of the elevator and up to your door, waiting as Rose unlocks it and falling inside as the door opens. 
· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·
On Monday morning you walk out of your first class of the semester, Philosophy of Sex and Gender, and glance down at your watch. With about a half hour until your Art History class, you decide to grab a quick snack at the cafe. You tug your sweatshirt off, the late morning sun starting to warm up the day, and plop yourself into a puffy leather chair near the window to people-watch as you snack on the trail mix you bought. 
As you fiddle with a loose string hanging from one of the rips in your jeans, your mind comes alive as you zone out, bringing you back to Saturday night. The whole day passes through your memory like a timelapse, slowing when you tug Rose into the bar with you. Daniel’s figure behind the drums pops into your head and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks as you see the two of you at the bar, as if you’re watching the interaction from a different perspective. You feel your heart race as you think about the bruises on your thighs from his grip, almost able to imagine the feeling of his hands on you.
As you snap yourself out of it, not wanting to spend the rest of your day helplessly worked up, you glance at your watch. You flinch at the 10:55 am staring back at you, realizing you only had five minutes to book it across the quad. Grabbing your bag from where it rests against your chair, you race out the door to get to the building on the other side of campus. 
You make it inside, out of breath and about two minutes late, and slip into the lecture hall, spotting the professor standing with his back to you as he writes on the chalkboard. Scanning the room for a decent seat, you take note of the way his dark curls are pulled back into a low ponytail and the way he had rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt. You feel a pang of uneasiness as you realize how familiar he looks from the back.
You spot a seat on the aisle in the third row, making the decision that it’s yours now, but as you start to step forward he turns around to look at something on his desk and you freeze in your place. Not sure you’re seeing things correctly, you duck into a seat towards the back. He turns back to the chalkboard, underlining a date before setting the chalk down and turning to face the class. Fuck, you think.
“Hey guys, I’m Dr. Wagner,” Daniel says, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “We’re gonna get started here.”
Hearing his voice confirms it and you pull your phone out of your pocket, opening your chat with Rose and furiously typing. You know she’s in an acting lab so she won’t answer right away, but you need to tell someone.
To: Rose🌹
DUDE
To: Rose🌹
MY FUCKING ART HISTORY PROF IS THE DRUMMER FROM THE BAR
You’re not sure whether you want to get up and leave or just try to avoid his eyes. Suddenly you realize that Daniel is the type of professor who paces when he talks as he starts to walk up the aisle you’re sitting on. Every few steps he stops to glance up at the bullet points he had written on the board, his eyes never landing on any one person as he spoke.
“So September 18th is when your first paper is due,” Daniel says, strolling up the aisle. As he lifts his eyes from the floor to glance back at the board, his gaze passes over you and he does a subtle double take, meeting your eyes. “Um,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “Oh, right. And your first exam is uh…is the week after.”
Your cheeks flush when you see it in his eyes that he recognizes you and you break the shared moment, dropping your eyes back to your phone screen to type out another text.
To: Rose🌹
He just fucking saw me. What do I DO???
You shove your phone back into your pocket as Daniel continues rattling off dates of exams and papers, answering questions as they pop up from the class. You keep your eyes trained on the floor, almost afraid to look up and find him staring at you again. 
“Okay, and last but not least, your final is on December 5th,” he says, wrapping up the hour-long lecture ten minutes early. “Anyways, welcome back guys. Go on, get outta here.”
Daniel waves his hand dismissively and picks up the eraser from the tray on the chalkboard, starting to clean the markings off of it. You practically leap out of your seat to make a beeline for the door, fearing you’d fall into a million pieces if you stayed a second longer.
“Oh, and uh,” he says as he turns to look at the class list to find your name, even though he already knows who you are, halting you just before you step into the hallway. “Y/N, can you hang back for a sec?”
Your mouth goes dry as you turn around, staring at him from the doorway. Daniel stares back at you, not turning away until you take a step back into the room.  As you slowly make your way toward the front of the room, he turns back to the board, lifting a spray bottle from the floor and spraying water on a rag. You reach the front row of the class and lean your hip against the side of the aisle seat, watching his muscles shift beneath the black fabric as he wipes the board down.
“Didn’t think ‘see you around maybe’ meant like this,” he says as he drapes the rag over the bottle on the floor and turns to the desk, refusing to meet your eyes. You trade leaning against the seat for sitting down in it, fearful that your legs might give out from under you, and stare up at him, your eyes wide and your lips parted as you search your brain for something to say.
“I’m not su-” you trail off as he flashes you a stern look.
“You’re not sure what I mean?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and leaning on the corner of the desk before continuing, “I think you are, sweetheart.” You look over both shoulders, checking for any lingering students.
“It’s not like I knew, professor,” you challenge, your voice hushed despite being the only two people in the room, and cross your legs. Your hands rest in your lap and you turn your nervous energy to the loose string on your jeans again.
“Don’t do that,” Daniel says, his gaze boring straight through you.
A smirk finds its way to your lips and your hands fall still in your lap as you cock your head to the side, feigning innocence, “Don’t do what?”
He pushes himself off the desk and steps down off the small stage, stopping in front of you and bracing himself on the wooden armrests as he leans down over you. Your head spins as you look up at him, his cologne invading your senses and making it difficult to think.
“That innocent ‘professor’ bit,” He whispers as he leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear and sending a chill down your spine. You shiver as his lips connect with your neck, his bangs brushing your shoulder lightly. Just as soon as the contact is made it’s gone as he lifts his head to look at you, studying the shade of pink that creeps up your neck. You swallow hard and your lips part as if to say something, but Daniel strokes a thumb along your jaw, scrambling your thoughts. He clicks his tongue and blows a laugh through his nose, “What, suddenly speechless?”
He pushes himself up and smooths his hands over his slacks before stepping back up onto the stage and taking a seat behind the desk. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and shake your head.
“No,” you say simply. “Is sir better?”
A smirk forms on his lips and he nods his head, satisfied with your answer. He pushes a pile of papers together and taps them on the desk to align them before sliding them into a pocket of his leather bag. 
You remain in your seat, watching as he organizes some things in his bag, and you feel your phone vibrate three times in your pocket, the buzz pattern you’d given Rose. Tugging it free, you glance at the screen and, sure enough, see a text from your best friend waiting for you.
From: Rose🌹
You’re fucking joking.
Daniel clears his throat and looks at you expectantly, silently demanding your attention back. You tuck your phone back into your pocket and return your eyes to him.
“You know you could have mentioned this,” you say, having had a moment to collect your thoughts. He scoffs and shoots you an incredulous look, folding his hands on his desk.
“Sorry, it didn’t really cross my mind to talk about my day job while I was fucking you,” he spits out, standing and collecting his things. 
“I need to go meet with a colleague briefly,” he explains, leaning against the side of the desk. “I think we should talk about this privately. Go wait outside of my office.”
You sit up straight and take a breath, parting your lips to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop you. Shrinking back into your seat, you watch him step down and stop when he stands next to you. With a finger under your chin, he pulls up gently, forcing you to look up at him.
“Be a good girl,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “Room 321.”
Daniel lets go of your face, turns up the aisle, and walks into the building’s lobby, leaving you alone in the room as you’d left him at the bar. You sit silently for a few minutes, debating your next move, and finally decide to go, feeling certain he wouldn’t be letting this go. You gather your belongings and make your way toward the hall, unsure of what awaits you when he gets back.
· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·
chapter ii
Thank you for reading!! Leave a reply if you want to be added to the taglist!
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hotvintagepoll · 29 days
Text
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Propaganda
Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
Shelley Winters (A Patch of Blue, A Place in the Sun)— She was originally set up to be like a classic bombshell, but ‘got tired’ of those roles and instead went for more interesting, complex characters. And she’s sooooooo good, her performance really makes A Place in the Sun for me, she brings such a quiet dignity to a character that could so easily have otherwise been this unkind caricature. Other fun facts: she was Jewish! She claimed that her ‘chutzpah’ was the reason she had so many affairs (including w notable hot men burt lancaster, william holden, and marlon brando)!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Marilyn Monroe:
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She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.
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That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot
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I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package
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She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!
youtube
She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!
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no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot
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People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold
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It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?
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What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.
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Shelley Winters:
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started her career as more of a glamorous bombshell type and gradually transitioned to more of a (milfy as hell) character actress type but consistently slayed no matter what she was doing
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192 notes · View notes
biteofcherry · 10 months
Text
No better gift
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part of Nesting universe
soft dark mafia Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: Steve likes the gift you gave him for his birthday, but there's something else that he wishes go. And he will take it.
warnings: soft dark Steve Rogers; established relationship; intimacy; some things are implied and some of them are kinky 😏
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Sweet raspberry scent of your lotion soothes you as you rub it into your skin after taking a shower. It wasn’t exactly a tiring day, but exciting enough to have you craving the peace and quiet of your home. 
Steve’s birthday was a rich celebration, though not like one might expect. 
There was no grandeur, or flamboyant displays of wealth. No business partners to pledge fake vows, nor celebrities to take hundreds of photos with. Quite the opposite, it was a rather small affair with family and friends only.
But Steve’s family and friends are a bunch of joyous, often loud people. So despite the celebration being somewhat nostalgic - held at Steve’s mom’s place - it was a lot. From the laughter and teasing stories, to the small display of fireworks that Steve’s people organized.
What you have learned over the past year is that while they are lethal criminals, they are fiercely loyal and surprisingly loving. 
And though it was Steve’s birthday, the true star of the party who stole all the attention was your baby boy. You could really catch a break and indulge (and Sarah’s cake was worthy of all the indulging), because others occupied him for hours. At one point you mentioned to Steve that he should find Bucky a girl, before Barnes really steals your kid.
All the fuss was exhausting enough for the baby that he fell asleep before you even got into the car. 
Back at home, Steve told you to take your time in the bathroom while he puts the baby to bed. One of the things which surprised you at first, was how present Steve is - both for you and your son. Not only dutiful, but openly loving and enjoying that time. And watching him with the baby melts your heart each time, as well other parts of your body.
When you exit the bathroom, Steve is already back in the master bedroom. Half undressed.
His shirt is on the back of the armchair, the button of his dark slacks popped open, but the zipper still up. Your gaze appreciatively roams over the wide planes of Steve’s chest, taking in the outline of corded muscles and the few, ornate tattoos on his body.
Left corner of Steve’s mouth curls in a smirk when he catches you staring. He crooks a finger at you and your feet move on their own accord, stepping between him and the bed. 
You lift on your tiptoes, pecking Steve’s lips sweetly. You’d like to maybe kiss him more, but your mouth also craves that huge slice of birthday cake which Sarah packed for you and at the moment the taste of it is kinda winning with the taste of Steve.
A little.
But you also want to cherish this quiet moment with him, soak up this warmth radiating off of him. You put a hand over his sternum, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart. Then slide your hand down his muscular arm.
“I hope you like your gift.” You tap the wide band of the black wristwatch on Steve’s wrist, shiny with novelty and black sapphires. 
“It’s hard to find a present for a man who has everything. Or who can afford anything.” 
You still consider it cheating, since to buy it for him you used the black card Steve gave you over a year ago. 
“I do like it,” he assures you, stepping so close you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact with him. 
He places a hand on your hip and skims his fingers up over the delicate fabric of your hand-painted, silk robe (Steve’s Valentine gift to you). He pinches the end of the silky belt between his fingers and starts tugging slowly.
“I love your other gift much more, though,” Steve’s voice drops to that low tone, thick as molten chocolate - and just as delectable. 
“Other gift?” A small frown forms on your forehead, quickly smoothing out as a shiver of pleasure spreads through your body when Steve unties your robe.
Warm, calloused hand slips beneath the fabric, touching your naked skin. It’s a gentle, yet so characteristically possessive touch. 
Over the months, even as your body changed with pregnancy and then after giving birth, Steve’s demand for your body never shifted. Not only it didn’t lessen, but at times it felt as if it grew.
He could be tender, especially when your body was the most sensitive, but there was always that control and possession; which both scared you and aroused you. 
Your nipples harden into stiff pebbles as Steve’s fingers brush over your breasts, your breath hitching a note when he pushes the robe off your shoulders completely. His touch travels back down, more brazen. His blue eyes darken as he takes in your naked body, so vulnerable and all his to play with. 
Hands flying to Steve’s shoulders, to keep your balance when he cups your tits, you gasp and arch. Heat unfurls in your belly in a wild burst as he pinches your stiff peaks. 
With how Steve’s eyes are focused on the darkened nipples and his tormenting squeeze, you know he’s remembering how milk spilled between his fingers when he did that to you just a few months prior. 
“I track your calendar, little bird,” Steve’s lips ghost along your jaw, as he slides his hands down your sides and over your ass. 
At the brush of Steve’s lips over yours, your brain stops following the line of thought. You nearly whimper, chasing his mouth when he holds off the kiss. 
“You’re ovulating.” 
Your half-closed eyes snap open at his hungry tone. Shocked with the revelation and the obvious indication behind Steve’s words, you arch back. But you don’t have the slightest chance of putting any distance between the two of you. 
Steve’s hands grip your ass and he hoists you up easily. A squeak escapes your lips when he tosses you onto the bed. 
Heart fluttering in your chest, you watch him climb after you - a deadly predator, determined on devouring his prey whole. 
The mattress dips under Steve’s weight and you feel yourself melting into the soft sheets, your pussy already weeping from the sheer sexual power of his aura. Still, instinctively your legs close. Steve yanks them apart. 
He settles above you, heavy and warm, pinning one of your wrists down. His other hand slips between your thighs, nimble fingers teasing your folds and clit until your hips rock back against his hand, pleading for more.  
“This will be your gift to me, little wife,” Steve’s eyes lock with yours as he pushes a single finger inside you.
“Swelling with my seed again.” 
Steve’s triumphant chuckle seals your fate as your pussy clenches around his finger eagerly.
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tacticaldiary · 10 months
Note
just found ur account, u post some rly awesome stuff. i was just wondering if you could write a fic for either the 141’s ghost or price in an established relationship with the reader and they forgot the readers birthday?
Forget Me Not
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt No Comfort
Simon's a sharp man. He can't afford to be anything less, lest he ends up with a bullet in his back but it's most often the more mundane and meaningful things that slip his mind. Her birthday, for example.
Masterlist
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There wasn't an expectation to go all out for every little celebration in their lives. Both Simon and her were relatively quiet people, preferring to keep celebrations more intimate between them. A small gift for an anniversary, a walk along the beach. It was the little things that were the most special to her, they showed her that grandeur and big gestures weren't the only means of expressing love so deep and devoted.
But never had it come to one of them completely withdrawing.
Their birthday were a slightly more lively affair, having more people involved. Simon, of course, was not particularly fond of having his own but hers? In the past he'd arranged surprises for her on the day, whether that be contacting her family and friends or pulling her out of bed in the morning with breakfast he'd made just for her.
It's why it's so surprising to see him go about his morning like a completely normal day.
He'd kissed her in the morning, no different than how he does every day, went about the house gathering his gear for work that day. Nothing special, just a debrief he needed to attend in the afternoon.
"You'll be going in today?" She asks, unable to keep the slight frown off her face. Her coffee cup is set on the counter with a small 'clink.'
He nods, leaning down to lace up his boots. "Got a debrief at noon. Johnny's been yapping our ears off about a new bar he found so I've no doubt he'll find a way to drag everybody there afterwards." He rolls his eyes but she can tell it's in a fond way.
As disinterested as Ghost might act, she knows he's fond of his team.
Ghost nods, straightening up once he's done with his boots. "Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She watches, a little stunned as he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead before hitching his bag over his shoulder.
Oh.
She didn't think he'd...forget.
"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?" She asks half thinking he's playing some sort of joke on her. He couldn't have forgotten...right? Simon was normally so good with these things. He'd never forgotten before. "Something else that's today? Something important, maybe?"
He gives her a blank look, coming to a stop next to her. "Nothing important enough to remember." He responds, pulling out his keys.
She knows he doesn't mean it like it sounds to her, but that doesn't stop the pang of sudden hurt. Nothing worth remembering?
He was probably trying to be funny with that dry humour of his, but after waking up to him already out of bed, excited to spend the day with him, finding out he'd be going to spend some time in some bar instead of with her today...
It really does sting.
She knows she could call out to him, just tell him that it's her birthday today, but part of her just...doesn't want to. If it wasn't worth remembering, maybe she should celebrate by herself this year...
He calls out a goodbye. The front door opens. Shuts close behind him.
Silence.
She draws in a long, slightly shaky breath and picks up her coffee mug, willing the stinging in her eyes to recede.
                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Simon's had a pretty smooth day so far, which is something that almost never happens. The debrief went smoothly confirming that the Russian intel they'd spotted the other day had been solid enough to warrant the extraction op the team was to take in two weeks time. The bar Johnny had been so eager to show them hadn't been half bad either.
The decor was old 80's themed, a nice polished mahogany bar spanning the entire length of a wall. Ghost had taken to sitting down with a whiskey, watching Price and Gaz play pool while making idle conversation with Johnny sat by his side.
Well, 'conversation' was a generous word. It was mostly Johnny doing the talking with him answering every now and then, or chiming in with a hum to show he was still listening.
"I'm surprised your still hear, you know." Johnny says, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Had a fight with the missus?" Gaz's voice joins in, the other two having wrapped up their game. He orders a drink for himself before sliding into the stool next to Ghost. "Got to agree with Soap on this one. I'm bloody surprised you're in deep enough shit to spend the night here instead."
Ghost stares at them like they're stupid. Maybe they are, because neither of them are making a lick of sense to him.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He drains the last of his whiskey, not missing the look exchanged by the other two men.
"Mate-" Gaz says incredulously.
"Nah, he's not that daft." Soap cuts him off. "He's just fucking with ya."
Gaz narrows his eyes at Ghost. "I don't think he is."
"He's gotta be. Everyone knows-"
"Will either of you spit it out?" He sets his glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary.
"Bloody hell, you did forget." Gaz whispers. "Oh, you're a dead man." Soap recognising the frustrated twitch of Ghost's hand decided to blurt it out before hands get thrown.
"It's your lass' birthday today." Soap says. "Don't tell me ya forgot."
Ghost go through a rush of feelings all at once.
First in disbelief. He's not stupid, of course he'd remember something as simple as a birthday, especially hers. The second is doubt, because the look on Gaz's face is one so full of pity it makes him uncomfortable.
Ghost pulls out his phone to check the date and...
Shit.
The third feeling is disbelief. There's no way he just forgot. Someone must be fucking with him.
"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?"
"Nothing important enough to remember."
The barstool scrapes as dread and guilt twist his gut. Grabbing his coat, he makes for the door without another word, cussing out Johnny for the cackle he laughs behind his back as he leaves in more of a hurry than anyone's ever seen him.
8pm. He'd spent the entire day taking the piss with the guys on the one day that should have been dedicated to her.
He'd been away for so long, arriving home only a few days ago and he'd just...left her again. Granted, those few days being so busy had been out of his control but still. That wasn't an excuse, he decides, turning on the car.
He hadn't been busy today, and had had the time to go back home to her after his debriefing.
His hands tighten around the steering wheel.
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Her earrings glint under the light of their bedroom. Staring at herself in the vanity, admiring the gorgeous dress her friend had gifted her for today, she can't help but feel a lack of excitement for the upcoming night.
Simon has really forgotten. She'd come to terms with it a couple hours ago when the sun had finally set and she'd realised that it wasn't a joke. He'd really, truly forgotten.
Going out partying hadn't been the plan at all, but when he friends had come over to give her a hug and presents, they'd seen her upset, still in her house clothes and decided it was completely unacceptable for her to spend the day like that.
Ushered into getting ready, they'd made plans to meet at this new upscale fancy restaurant before hitting a few clubs on the way back home.
Better than nothing, she reminds herself, chasing away thoughts of what her night might have looked like if Simon had stayed. No time for sulking, this was supposed to be a happy day. She was supposed to be happy.
So why does she feel tears sting at her eyes when she reaches for her purse to check if she has everything? Blinking them away, she takes a second to compose herself.
The key jingle in the lock, the sound echoing from the hallway into their bedroom. She tenses in surprise. Was he home?
Hope blooms in her chest. If Simon was home, maybe he did remember? Maybe he came home early to-
No.
No that wasn't right, she chides herself, smile slipping off her face. Even if he did remember now, that's not an excuse for forgetting the rest of the entire day, for leaving her feeling so shitty and going off to drink with the others.
Straightening her spine, she takes a deep breath and heads for the door. Her feet take her halfway down the hall before the front door flies open on its own, baring the man in question.
His knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping his keys, and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxes when he lays eyes on her. Something akin to relief, as if he might have thought she wouldn't be there when he got home.
"I-"
"Early night?" She straightens out her dress, feeling his eyes on her. He's quiet for a beat, assessing the situation before acting. Ever the soldier. "Mine's just starting." Her voice is as even as she can make it.
Simon shuts the door behind him. "I didn't realise-"
"That's right." He doesn't get to speak right now, doesn't get to fill her mind with pretty apologies and promises. Not this time, not tonight. "You forgot, Simon." A flash of guilt in his eyes makes her feel a pang in her chest she refuses to let take the reigns. "You forgot." She wavers for a moment, clears her throat to regain some control. "Nothing important enough to remember, right?"
It's a punch to the gut, hearing his words thrown back at him with the knowledge of how she interpreted them. His jaw clenches, frustrated at himself for letting something like this slip by him. "I'm going to make it up to you, yeah? Just let me-"
"No thanks." She shakes her head.
"Just let me finish," He narrows his eyes, a little irked at being cut off over and over again.
"No, Ghost." The way he tenses at his name being abandoned for his callsign is proof enough of how he's fucked up. "I don't want to hear it, alright?" She swallows. "I don't want to hear any of it, I'm going out, I'm going to have a good time on my goddamn birthday with my friends, and I'm not going to let you make me cry before I leave."
Cry? It's then that he notices how red her eyes are. Guilt slams into him hard enough to wind him, it worms it's way through his chest and eats him alive, gnawing on the little parts of his heart that haven't gotten calloused.
The first thing he notices when he walked in was how gorgeous she looked. Standing there in front of him in that dress, he's well familiar with most of her clothes, having been the one taking them off at the end of the day, but this one he hasn't ever seen before and it hugs her just right, enough to make his mind blank for a moment when he first walked in.
But he understands. Ghost sees the way she's clutching onto that purse of hers, the way her knuckles are white and the slight shake of her shoulders.
She's trying not to cry.
Because of him.
Fucking hell, that hurts. But not as much as what he's made her feel. Simon wants to argue, wants to tug her close and make it all better, but he sees that she means it, and hell does she deserve to have a good time after the way her morning went.
Simon steps aside with a tight nod.
Letting out what almost is a small, shaky sigh of relief, she brushes past him on the way out and Simon really doesn't have enough self control, because his hand wraps around her elbow to halt her in her tracks.
"I'm sorry, love." He says, so gently, so quiet. Such a stark difference to how he usually is. "I really am. And I will make it up to you, yeah? I promise."
A tight knot forms in her throat, threatening to send a fresh wave of tears at her conflicted feelings. It's all she can do to give him the barest of nods, avoiding his eyes.
"Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She echoes his words from the morning back to him before she shakes off his grip and leaves him alone.
An empty house, a mind full of buzzing remorse.
Requests Are Open! Reblog, Reply and Like!
(11/07/2023)
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deadmeat666 · 10 months
Text
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Miguel O'Hara x Top!M!Reader
It's your birthday and Miguel had something special in mind.
desc. college au, bottom Miguel, reader has a dick, it's reader's birthday, both you and Miguel share the house with two other people, risky sex (Almost getting caught), morning sex, multiple orgasm and creampie, implied Malay reader (Although it is implied, reader can be any race and ethnicity. It's up to you). No introduction as it skips to the actual sex. Lmk if I missed anything.
A/N. This is my first time writing so it's extremely short and it's self-indulgent. Excuse my English as it is not my first language. Please voice out your criticism as I'm trying to get better in writing!
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You never thought you would end up in this predicament but you aren't exactly complaining about it. Here you are, locking your roommate Miguel in a position that made it possible to escape from your tight grip on him but why would he? The constant moaning and whimpering made it obvious he's enjoying it, it was his idea after all.
"Fuck! So good..so fucking good.." he moans out like a cheap whore "Mm..your cock's so fuckin' big!" he didn't even bother keeping quiet anymore. It's 6 in the morning and there's still a chance that both of your other roommates are still sleeping but you can never be too sure.
His eyes roll back to his head as he came for the nth times after just a few minutes from his last orgasm. As you continue your relentless thrusting and spewing curses in Malay, you hear faint footsteps from the hallway and you immediately stop moving but Miguel didn't get the sign and whines as a form of complaining.
He looks at you in confusion as to why you stopped but his eyes went wide when he hears the footsteps stop in front of the door to your bedroom. Why aren't they saying anything? The thought of your roommate finding out your affair with another roommate made your head spin. Of course, you keep yourself from making any movements, except for Miguel.
He continues moving his hips into your pelvis and your breath hitches from the sudden movements. He's already letting out a few sinful noises that might be loud enough for the other person at the other end of the door to hear if they really put their ear against the door. The other roommate mutters something you can't quite catch but at least they're walking away now.
You start to move again but this time you're practically destroying his inside and not letting him catch his breath. It's a surprise you still aren't satisfied even after a few rounds of hard fucking and painting his insides white. Miguel holds onto your back and leaves a few scratch marks that burn your skin but you're so lost in the pleasure that you paid no mind to them.
One sharp thrust that made your pelvis meet his ass, you came inside him for the last time as you curses out in Malay. He lets out a high-pitched girlish moan as his cock spurts out cum that is currently pooling on his stomach.
"Happy birthdayyy.." he managed to slur out those two words before trying to catch his breath and gather back his thoughts
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A/N. My birthday is in August but I still feel the need to want to fuck Miguel's ass early. Still not confident about this though :(
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yuurei20 · 4 months
Text
Jade and Floyd Info Compilation part 1: Family
Jade says that his and Floyd's family runs an independent business that “dabbles in a bit of everything,” assuring the prefect that it is nothing out of the ordinary.
This may connect to Book 4 when he warns Floyd that “it’s never a good idea to blindly pry into others’ family affairs.”
Floyd says that before he came on land his father gave him the advice, “People with no eye for detail don’t deserve respect. When you’re on land, pay special attention to your feet. Spare no expense.”
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When Idia asks who their father is Floyd asks if he really wants to know. When he begins to explain Idia interrupts with “Uh, I changed my mind. Don’t tell me.”
Jade says that he and Floyd received a message from their mother on their birthday, but she sends them messages practically every day because she is something of a worrier.
In his second birthday vignette Jade says their father is big on birthday celebrations for them and calls them on the phone on their birthday.
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Jade explains, “On our birthdays, we didn’t just celebrate with family. My father’s work associates would also come over. You can imagine the mountain of presents we’d receive…but we’d also receive luxury goods that were clearly of no use to a child. Those were not truly for us, but to flatter our father…no, to gain his trust, given by people who were desperate for it. My father always made a point to have those particular gift givers sign an agreement. It stated that the gift was purely a token of goodwill, and that the giver expected nothing in return.”
Jade says that, much like their mother, their father can also be a worrier.
We get a little information about what their parties were like from Floyd, who says that banquets would have quiet music like piano, and people would just “stand around and nibble on food. Oh, and maybe say a quick hello…everyone was as silent as a deep-sea fish. It was awful.” Kalim comments that it sounds like they had been going going to quite formal parties.
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It seems that their parents send them loads of birthday presents even now, despite Floyd explaining how their dorm room is too small for anything big.
Jade says that their parents taught them the art of self-defense when they were little (“It comes in handy even now.”).
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Neither Leech twin is any older or younger than the other, though Crewel mistakenly assumes Floyd is the younger brother in a vignette.
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This is why the twins refer to each other exclusively by their names in the original game, as the Japanese language doesn't really have an age-neutral word for “brother.”
More here:
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hslllot · 11 months
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Birthday Week
rated m (smut) | 7k words | harry x reader
Snapshots of your week with Harry.
Monday
You weren’t sure what woke you up before your alarm went off: The May sunshine seeping through the blinds and flooding your bedroom, or the unusual sounds of clanging pots and pans coming from the kitchen downstairs.
Not yet ready to open your eyes and commit to waking up for the day, you rolled over and blindly reached out to find the other side of your bed empty. It was no surprise, given that Harry was typically an early riser. You rolled over again, this time sinking deeper into your pillow and pulling up your comforter to get yourself back into a cozy state of sleep.
Of course, your boyfriend of two years had other plans for you. 
The bedroom door creaked open and you could hear his bare feet softly padding across the floor to your side of the bed. Without opening your eyes, you heard him place something on the bedside table.
“Babe,” he whispered.
You were half-awake and half-asleep. Still refusing to open your eyes, the sound that came out of your mouth was somewhere between a whine and a groan.
Again, your boyfriend whispered, “babe,” but this time, he gently rested his fingers on the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve made your favourite.”
His soft touch is what willed your eyes open. When your vision finally adjusted to the sunlight, you found him standing next to the bed in his white robe, his hair still tousled on the side of his head he usually slept on. On the table next to him was a wooden tray with breakfast and a small vase filled with your favourite flowers.
You realized he hadn’t been up for his regular early morning run. No, he’d been busy in the kitchen. 
“What’s all this, H?” Your voice still groggy and filled with sleep. The smile on his face grew as he moved his hand from your face to your hair. 
“Happy birthday week, my love.”
Your tired mind tried to figure out what day of the week it was, and the expression on Harry’s face went from soft and doting to amused. 
“Happy birthd- what? Harry, my birthday’s not till Thursday.”
“I know,” he giggled. “But I’d like to celebrate you all week, that alright?”
And how could you be annoyed that he woke you up earlier than usual when he was so sweet? 
“Okay,” you chirped.
You never made a big deal out of your birthday because being the center of attention made you a bit anxious. You didn’t like when people sang happy birthday or watched as you opened gifts. You felt self-conscious about the way you reacted, worried that you wouldn’t look happy enough, or couldn’t hide the disappointment of receiving something you didn’t want or need. You never wanted to appear ungrateful so you always took it with a smile on your face. Sat through the discomfort and awkwardness of it all. But as you got older, you became more selective about how and with whom you spent your birthday.
Your last two birthdays had been quiet affairs, as per your request. Last year, you were on the road with Harry. The two of you ate a nice breakfast together and he had your favourite cake and some champagne backstage for everyone to enjoy. The year before that, he was also on the road, but since it was earlier in your relationship you opted to stay home. You went for dinner and drinks with a couple of your best friends and afterward enjoyed a tipsy (and slightly R-rated) FaceTime with Harry. 
This year, with a stroke of luck, he had two weeks off from touring. Your birthday happened to fall during those two weeks. 
About a week ago, he asked what you wanted to do for the occasion and you just suggested going for dinner on Thursday night.
“Nothing too elaborate.”
 He seemed unimpressed by that.
“I’m finally here and not working on your birthday and can give you 100% of my attention. Please, please, please,” he begged. “Let me throw you a small party.”
It was hard to say no when you knew how happy it would make him. Harry had several love languages, but acts of service was the one he enjoyed speaking the most, followed closely by giving gifts. 
So you caved, agreeing to let him hold a very small gathering on Saturday at his house, your house (seeing as you moved in right before the most recent leg of his tour). 
“Scooch up,” he instructed. And you sat up in bed while he grabbed the tray and placed it in front of you.
There were two sets of your favourite breakfast, eggs benedict, with some fresh fruit and two-coffee-filled mugs.
“Harry, this looks amazing. You didn’t have to do this.” 
He walked around to his side of the bed, sitting next to you. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple before cozying up and tilting his head to rest on top of yours. 
“I wanted to, and ‘s nothing,” he answered. But you didn’t think it was nothing, you thought it was sweet and thoughtful.
Turning your face up toward his, you pouted your lips and urged him to kiss you. He obliged with a soft peck and you grabbed a hold of his face and kissed him again. And again. And again. The two of you giggled and you murmured quiet ‘thank yous’ as you showered him with small kisses all over his face. 
“Thank. You.” you said, smacking a final kiss on his lips before reaching for a set of cutlery. “How did I get so lucky?”
You didn’t miss the smitten look in his eye, or the way his two front teeth sunk into his bottom lip. 
“Love you too…” he reciprocated. “Oh, and it’s your tits, you’ve got great tits,” he cackled. 
“Shut up.” 
Tuesday
Your day was shit. 
Your job was shit.
You felt like shit.
This morning, you’d slept through your alarm and woke to find that Harry was gone. It wasn’t that you expected breakfast in bed again… But you thought after he went on and on yesterday about your birthday week, that he’d at least be around for a cuddle this morning.
Instead, all you had was a text message and fifteen minutes to get yourself up and out the door.  
Harry: Baaaabe I forgot I had a meeting with the team this morning. I’ll see you after work x
You weren’t actually mad at him for that, moreso annoyed at yourself for sleeping in and having to rush. You hated being late and feeling flustered. Foregoing your regular morning routine had you out of sorts.
When you got downstairs and were ready to fly out the door without breakfast, you realized Harry had left a croissant and your usual smoothie waiting on the counter. Next to it was a note that read: Birthday week x 
The worried creases in your forehead smoothed themselves out, and a warmth permeated your chest, but you didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling. You grabbed your breakfast, thoughtfully prepared by your partner, and decided you’d call him and say thanks when you got to your office.  
Once you’d finally arrived at work (15 minutes late), your coworkers made a point to get on every single one of your last nerves. 
When you walked out of the elevator and into your workplace, you were feeling a bit flustered because you hated being late. Of course, an intern who wasn’t paying attention walked right into you, spilling your smoothie all over the floor and on to your clothes.
You resisted the urge to have a meltdown. Instead, you accepted their apology and calmly walked to your office. A spare shirt was kept in your office for this exact situation.
Then, Kerri from finance came into your office to let you know (somewhat passive aggressively) that the end-of-month reports that were filed last week were all input incorrectly. You were not the person who filed the reports, but apparently you were the person who had to fix them.
Maybe you were just in an irritable mood, but your day was hectic and filled with fixing everyone’s mistakes. You never got the chance to call Harry until your lunch break, and when you did he was in a meeting and couldn’t answer. So you just texted him and told him you’d see him after work. 
When you got home, you hoped that he would be okay with a relaxing evening that didn’t involve anything requiring any brain power. You were exhausted.
“Harry, you home?” You called out. 
“In the kitchen!” 
You followed the sound of his voice through the house, leaving a trail of belongings, your bag, your coat, your shoes, discarding the weight of a stressful and mundane work day behind you. 
“Have you eaten?” You asked as you moved through the halls of your home. “I can’t be arsed to cook something right now, thinking we should takeout? Kerri from finance is an absolute turd of a huma-” 
You were interrupted by the sight of your boyfriend sitting at your dining table. The lights in the room were all dimmed. The table was set with food, flowers, and wine, all illuminated by candlelight.
“Happy Tuesday-before-your-birthday!” He exclaimed with arms outstretched, fingers wiggling, and the biggest smile plastered across his face. He stood up from the table, his expression warping into a pout, “I’m sorry about Kerri from finance.” 
The sight of him was enough to short circuit your memory, all thoughts of your work day went out the window. 
“H… This is… So lovely.” You scanned the table and saw your favourite dishes laid out. 
He walked toward you and wrapped you in his arms. You held onto him tightly while he placed a kiss on the side of your head. 
“Sit down and tell me about your shit day.” He murmured into your hair. 
Airing out your frustrations felt silly now. But you sat and vented about your coworkers while Harry poured you a glass of red wine. You indulged in your favourite meal, that he proudly cooked himself, and the conversation shifted from your work, to asking how his meeting went and what he’d been up to all day. The longer you sat with him the more relaxed you became. And the more wine you drank, the more tired you felt. 
When you let out a yawn, you apologized, “It’s not you, I swear. Just a long day.”
He squeezed your knee under the table and when you looked up at him he had the cheekiest smirk plastered across his face. A smirk you’d seen many times before. You reached out and stuck your finger in his dimple. 
“I’ve got a surprise for you actually. In the bedroom.” He grabbed your finger and pretended to chew on it.
You were torn, wanting to show the man next to you all kinds of appreciation in the bedroom, but at the same time feeling like you could fall asleep on top of the dining table if you let yourself.
“Babe… I’m sorry. I want to… you know. But I’m just so tired. Maybe we can -”
He interrupted you again, “No, ‘s not that.” He let go of your finger but took your whole hand in his. He noticed the way you were concerned over all the dishes and leftover food on the table. “I’ll take care of this later, come with me.”
With your fingers entwined, you followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom. Before you reached the room, you could hear quiet, soothing music playing. When you finally saw what he had prepared, you let out an audible gasp. 
The lights in the large master bedroom were dimmed, save for the aromatic candles that were lit and dispersed around the room. Red and white rose petals were scattered across the floor. In the middle of the room was a massage table, set up with clean white sheets, and a cart filled with different oils, lotions, and scents. You approached the table and found a beautiful white, silk robe, with your initials monogrammed on the chest. 
“Harry…” You traced your finger over the delicately embroidered initials.
“I know ’m not a professional,” he grabbed the robe and urged you to take it. “But you’ve said before that I give really good massages.”
You took it from him and he continued, “Wait… You weren’t lying, right? Like you actually think I give good massages? You’re not pulling a Chandler?”
“Don’t worry, you do,” you barely managed to form a sentence, in awe of the man next to you. 
“K, good. Though I suppose I could’ve hired someo-”
It was your turn to interrupt him. You dropped the robe and threw your arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a kiss that had your head spinning. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss with his tongue against yours. The firm grip he had on your waist slid down your curves and without breaking away from your kiss, he hoisted you up onto the massage table. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist and stayed like that for a while, indulging in one another. Feeling, groping, pulling kiss after kiss, basically making out like a couple of teenagers. Your hands were everywhere, frenzied, in his hair, digging into his shoulders, pressed against his chest. 
It was when you started subconsciously rutting against him that Harry broke away. “Swear this was just meant to be an innocent massage,” he whispered, breathless.
“It’s okay,” you choked out, still holding onto him while his arms caged you on the edge of the massage table. 
“I know you’re tired… Let me take care of you.” 
All you could do was nod. 
He started carefully removing your work clothes, button by button, piece by piece, until you were left in nothing but your underwear. He stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight. It was overwhelming the way he looked at you, like he might devour you at any moment. While he stared, you reached around your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor.  
You could tell he was resisting the urge to touch you when he leaned in and whispered, “get on your stomach.” 
The feeling of his hot breath against your ear sent a delicious shiver down your spine. 
Doing as he requested, you positioned yourself on the massage table so that you were face down with your head resting on the pillow. You wondered if he would put the sheet over you, how they did for professional massages. Instead, you felt him place his hands on the backs of your ankles, moving each hand slowly up your calves, then your thighs, and stopping when he reached the bottom of your lace underwear. He gave your bum a quick squeeze, and used his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart, grazing up and over your most sensitive parts before dragging your underwear down and removing them completely. You were bare to him, and you willed yourself not to squirm under his gaze.
Despite your earlier feelings of being “too tired”, you could feel the desire building in the pit of your stomach. Between your makeout session and the way his hands felt on you, your body was practically begging for him. 
He chose an oil from the cart and began to rub it into your lower back, smoothing his hands up toward your neck. The light citrus scent of the oil invaded your senses and clouded your thoughts.
The way his strong hands rubbed circles into your body had the stress of the day melting away. You didn’t realize how much tension you were carrying until his fingertips pressed into a knot at the base of your neck and a small moan escaped your lips. You heard him mutter “fuck” under his breath, and you wondered if having you sprawled out naked under his touch was affecting him the way it was affecting you. 
You were still very tired and the combination of the soothing music, the candles, the oil, the dim lights, and his relaxing touch all had you on the edge of consciousness. But every time Harry’s hands dropped to your lower back, your heart rate began to pick up. 
When he brought his hands to the backs of your thighs, your stomach clenched in arousal. He rubbed and squeezed and pinched up and down your thighs, every time stopping just before he reached the apex. He was inches from your core and he had to know that you were aching for him. 
You gasped when you felt his mouth against your lower back, gently nipping at the skin while his fingers continued to knead your thighs.
“Need to touch you…” He breathed against your skin. “Can I- please?” 
You answered him by raising your hips, just slightly, offering yourself to him. 
He started by lightly grazing your inner thighs, trailing around where you wanted him most. It was maddening. 
“Harry…” you urged him.
Finally, his daring fingertips made their way through your folds, gathering your wetness. 
“Fuck”, he muttered again. You tried to crane your next to the side to catch a glimpse of him, and you noticed the way he rutted himself against the side of the table.
You wanted to reach back, to touch him, and relieve his ache the way he was relieving yours, but you felt dizzy, each stroke of his fingers against your clit sending you into a spiral. 
When he finally slipped one of his long fingers into you, you gasped, and when he worked his second finger in, the gasp turned into a moan. The sensation of his fingers stretching you, easing in and out, had you clutching the massage table beneath you. 
Your core tightened as he thrust his fingers, deeply and slowly inside of you. 
“You feel so good, so wet,” he groaned.
When he removed his fingers, you were embarrassed by your frustrated reaction.
“Harry - please…”
He responded by gripping the backs of your knees and pulling them further apart, giving himself more access. Then, he concentrated his efforts on dragging your wetness up toward your clit. You buried your face deeper into the pillow as pleasure coursed through you. 
He sunk his fingers back in with a steady rhythm and your body started to coil tighter, gripping him. While he worked you over relentlessly, he left wet, hot kisses on your back and shoulders. Your body was overwhelmed with a hot sensation and you couldn’t hold back your moans. 
When you felt his fingers curl inside you, that’s when you started coming apart. 
“H…” you were breathless, needy, and losing control of your body. Convulsions took over and a white heat washed over you. 
When you were finished, Harry removed his fingers and moved to the head of the massage table. He leaned down and you turned your head so he could capture your lips in a dizzying kiss. You turned over for him and felt the weight of his stare on your entire body. You were on fire. Had your limbs not turned to jelly post-orgasm, you might’ve tried to pull him on top of you or tried to reach for his zipper where his erection was straining against his trousers. But you felt weak. Relaxed, and utterly completely satisfied. But weak. 
Harry helped pull you up so you were sitting on the table. He grabbed your new silk robe, wrapping it around you and helping your arms through the sleeves. The robe was luxurious, like butter on your warm skin. 
Harry stood tall in front of you now, his gaze seering into you. You willed yourself back to earth, back to consciousness. 
“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, lifting your chin to leave a quick peck on your lips. 
“It’s not my birthday.” You huffed, chuckling, knowing he didn’t care about the technicalities. “But thank you.”
He gave you another quick kiss. “Stay here while I start us a bath, okay?” 
Wednesday
For the second day in a row, your morning routine had been interrupted.
Today, however, was under much better circumstances. 
You woke up to the sound of your alarm, and almost immediately Harry latched on to you. You were still in a haze when he buried his face into the base of your throat, leaving a string of wet kisses and greedy licks. In a haze, your hand rested in his chocolate curls while he sucked bruises into the sensitive skin of your neck.  
After the events of last night, you fully intended on making this morning about him. You were about to reach down toward his straining briefs. But he had other plans in mind, diving under the blankets and scaling down your body before you even had a chance to lay a finger on him. 
He made quick work of you. First, placing a gentle open-mouth kiss on your clit, sending an awakening jolt through your tired body. 
Then he went for a full taste, sucking and laving up every bit of you that he could. He alternated between diving inside of you and stroking over your swollen button with his soft, warm tongue. Occasionally he scraped his teeth across your sensitive nerves and your hips jolted in pleasure. 
The heat that ran through you was intense. You searched for something to grab on to. One hand tangled itself in his soft curls, the other reached for his hand and grasped his fingers. 
When you came, he rode it out with repeated flicks of his tongue and you pressed your hungry flesh to his face, grinding and smothering him until you couldn’t take it anymore. 
Eventually, he pulled away and dragged himself up the bed to meet you at eye level. On your back, you were still trying to catch your breath and compose yourself. His hot breath fanned over your ear as he chuckled, “good morning.”
And a good morning it was.
----------
You walked into work feeling as refreshed as ever. Nothing and nobody could bring you down after the relaxing evening, and delicious morning, you had. 
Around mid-afternoon, while you were plugging away on some paperwork, you were interrupted by a stranger in your office doorway. 
“Delivery.” 
The man held a basket filled with flowers and an assortment of treats. He confirmed your name and had you sign off on the delivery before leaving it on your desk. 
The flowers were pink and purple tulips accompanied with a plain glass vase. Simple and elegant. A perfect fit for your desk. In the basket were some snacks you liked to indulge in throughout the day. Percy pigs, some pretzels, a pack of crisps. And notably there was a small, but long, rectangular box that quite obviously held a piece of jewelry. 
Of course you didn’t have to look at the card to know who the gift was from, but you snickered to yourself when you opened it and read the message inside. 
Fuck Kerri from finance. Happy birthday. H x
Although you felt your boyfriend was doing way too much for your birthday, you couldn’t deny how excited you were to see what was inside the box. 
When you opened it, you were in disbelief.
The piece of jewelry was an Effy necklace you’d had your eye on for ages. It was a delicate chain made up of strands of 14 karat gold and adorned with various stones,  amethyst, madeira citrine, and peridot, arranged into the shape of small flowers along the chain. You didn’t even remember telling Harry about the necklace, thinking it was too expensive and never wanting him to spend that kind of money on you. You wondered which of your friends or family told him about it.
Either way, you could feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes. You were overwhelmed with love. 
A part of you thought he was insane for 1) spending this kind of money on you, and 2) trusting this gift with a random delivery person. Nonetheless, you tucked away the annoying side of you that thought about making a teasing remark, and opted for gratitude instead. 
Knowing that Harry was at pilates at this time, you sent him a text message.
THIS IS TOO MUCH 🔪  but thank you and i love you so much. X
“Oooh, is it your birthday?”
You looked up to see Kerri from the finance department at your door. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself while she eyed your flowers and gift basket. 
“Yeah, it’s tomorrow actually.”
“Nice. Happy birthday!”
Thursday 
“Good morning, baby.” Harry buried his face into your neck and pulled your hips back into his. “Do you feel wiser than you did yesterday?” He whispered against your skin. 
“Hardly…” 
“You know what wasn’t very wise?” He asked, trailing his lips across your jawline. 
“Hmmm…”
His breath fanned over your ear, “Not taking the day off work.” He chuckled. 
You let out a groan before checking the time. 7:16 AM. 
“I can give you fifteen minutes.” 
“Think I can make that work...” He nipped gently at your neck and rocked his hips forward, making you aware of his firmness prodding against you. 
Your limbs weakened as he smoothed his hand under your shirt, over your stomach, and up towards your breast. His thumb brushed against your nipple, sending a burst of heat right to your core.  
His other hand drifted downward, sliding between your thighs, and you felt your desire grow. He palmed you where you were most sensitive, and the heat of his touch spread through the cotton of your underwear. 
“Harry…” you choked out. 
He unlatched himself from your neck. 
“Tell me what you want,” he rasped, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced the edge of your panties. 
You arched your hips against his hand. “I want you. Please.”
He pushed your underwear aside and trailed the pads of his fingers between your lips. “Happy. Fucking. Birthday.” He emphasized each word with pressured strokes over your clit. You trembled, already feeling like you were on the edge. 
You grabbed his wrist. 
“No, I want you,” reaching behind yourself to search for his waistband. To get your point across, you turned around to face him and started to stroke him over the material of his briefs. “Please - let me.” 
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, nodding. He gulped when you reached your hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his cock. “I won’t last long though.”
“Good.”
----------
Later that night, Harry took you to your favourite restaurant to celebrate your actual birthday. 
Your favourite restaurant was a small taco joint that had shrimp tacos you claimed were “the best you ever had”. And although it wasn’t the fancy birthday dinner he had in mind, the excitement written across your face over these damn tacos was an indication that it was exactly what you wanted. 
Plus, they had a vegan mushroom taco and a killer margarita that he really enjoyed. 
As he saw the server make his way toward your table with your order, he decided it was the right time to give you your gift. He felt around his coat pockets, searching for the envelope that held your surprise.
 When he found it, he held it out to you, and you looked like you might kill him. He loved that look. The way your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted slightly in disbelief. He’d take that look every day for the rest of his life if you let him. 
“Harry, what is this?” You asked, taking the envelope while your server placed your tacos in front of you. 
“Birthday gift.” He nodded to the server in gratitude and took a sip of his margarita. “Ooh, that’s a bit strong,” he winced.
“Harry.”
“If yours is this strong you might not make it to work in the morning.” 
“Harry!”
“What!” He held his hands up, feigning innocence. He loved seeing you riled up like this. The way you got a bit flustered and your voice got a bit higher. He imagined that if he were to feel your face, your cheeks would be hot. 
“Hasn’t there been enough gifts? You’ve been spoiling me all week… There can't possibly be more.” 
“Well there is.” He watched while you examined the envelope with trepidation. 
He was conscious about not making you uncomfortable, so he picked up one of his tacos and preoccupied himself while you opened the envelope. 
“Are you kidding me?” 
When he looked up at you, your face had softened. No longer looking like you wanted to kill him, instead you looked at him with nothing but admiration.
He changed his mind: That was the look he wanted to see for the rest of his life. 
“Think you could take the time off work?” He asked, resting his hand on the back of your neck. 
“I think so.” You nodded, turning your attention back to the contents of the envelope. 
Although he traveled a lot with you on tour, he never felt like the two of you were really on vacation. You were always bouncing around from city to city. He spent his days at the venues and working out and then went to bed early every night after a show. He never got to show you his favourite places, or be with you while you discovered yours. He never got to take you out for late-night dinner and dancing or indulge in too many drinks and stumble down foreign streets hand-in-hand.
When he told you about his time in Japan and how much he loved it, you told him how badly you wanted to visit there one day.
As soon as you said that, he started building this fantasy, a daydream, in his mind of what it would be like to spend time with you in Japan. He knew you wouldn’t accept a free trip from him without some kind of reason or occasion. So your birthday was the perfect opportunity. 
He watched as you continued to look over the plane tickets and AirBnB itinerary, no longer hiding your excitement. When you looked up, your eyes were glossy and he felt his heart grow twice its size. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I feel like I’ve been saying thank you so much all week but I really do mean it.” 
You grabbed his hand and leaned in for a kiss. 
“No, thank you. I would give you more if you let me,” he responded, meeting your mouth halfway. “You deserve it.”
Friday
“Harry Edward Styles, my birthday is OVER!”
“What ‘re you on about? We do this every Friday night.” 
“We do NOT do it like this.”
“Well I’ve got to make it a bit more special haven't I? Since it’s birthday week?” 
You huffed in frustration and marched yourself up the stairs. Annoyed, you removed your work clothes and swapped them for a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry’s t-shirts. 
“What would you like to drink?” He called out from downstairs. 
“Nothing!” You yelled back. 
“That’s not very fun!” 
You were afraid that if you rolled your eyes any harder they might stay that way permanently.
Soon after, he appeared in the doorway of your bedroom. He approached you from behind cautiously, wrapping his arms around your waist while you removed your makeup with a washcloth. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just a movie.” 
You turned around to face him, and let out a sigh when you saw the look of concern on his face. You felt terrible.
“You must think I’m the most ungrateful hag you’ve ever met.” 
He buried his face into your neck. “I don’t. I know it’s been a lot. Maybe a bit much.”
“My boyfriend is literally the sweetest man on the planet and I’m complaining.” 
“You’re hardly complaining.” 
“You defending me right now is just proving how awful I am and how wonderful you are.” You tried to pull away but he tightened his grip on you. 
“Let’s say it’s just a regular Friday movie night. No more birthday week.” You eyed him suspiciously. “The stuff I set up down there was just ‘cause I was bored.” 
You scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 
“I’m being serious! I don’t want you to be upset.”  
“Harry.”
“Darling.” 
You wondered why you couldn’t just say thank you. Why was it so hard for you to just accept the kind gesture? 
“I’m not upset,” you reached up to cradle his face in your hands. “I’m just terrible at accepting gifts, apparently.”
He leaned into your touch and placed a small kiss in the palm of your hand. 
You sighed, “C’mon, let’s go.” 
He trailed behind you as you headed down the stairs and into the cozy oasis he’d built in your living room. Blankets and pillows were all carefully arranged on the floor, bed sheets were draped between the furniture to form makeshift walls and ceilings, with strings of fairy lights scattered around the room. There were bowls filled with your favourite candies and salty snacks, and the title of your favourite movie was queued up on the television, waiting for you to press play. 
“Can we fool around a bit too?” Harry asked cheekily, poking at your sides like a pest. There was a giddiness and almost childish delight in the way he was excited to play in the blanket fort he’d built.
“Yes-” You turned and pointed a finger at him. “But you have to promise me that after the party tomorrow night you won’t mention my birthday again till next year. Or maybe even the year after.”
He chuckled, pulling you down into a mountain of pillows with him. 
“I promise.”
Saturday
It was absurd to you that on a morning when you didn’t have to go to work, Harry was nowhere to be found. 
Of course, you slept in a little later than usual. Your body and mind needed to recover after a long week. But of all the days, logically, today would have been the best day to spend wrapped around each other in bed. 
You knew he must have gone out because you didn’t hear him puttering around downstairs. It was a chance to have a slow and easy morning. You took your time getting out of bed and stayed in your pajamas while you lazily brewed yourself a coffee.  
The sun was shining so you spent the morning outside on the deck with your coffee and some fruit. You were relaxed and happy, reading a novel you’d been dying to read, and enjoying the quiet sounds of your neighbourhood. A niggling part of your brain thought that maybe Harry had planned all this too. Perhaps he knew you needed a moment to chill with yourself and took off for the morning. 
It wouldn’t have surprised you if he did.
Shortly before lunch time, Harry walked through the doors with arms full of grocery bags. 
“Hiya babe.” He kissed you on the cheek and set his bags on the kitchen counter. “How’s your mornin’?”
“It was very nice, actually. Missed you though.” You observed him while he pulled all sorts of random food items, bottles of wine, and decorations out of his bags. “What’s all this, H?” 
“‘It’s just stuff for tonight.” For some reason you’d woken up this morning and forgot a party was being thrown in your honour. 
“Oh right… Do you need me to help with anything?”
“Hmm,” he shook his head. “Nope. Jeff’’ll be over shortly to help set up.”
“Set up? Harry, this is going to be a small party, right?”
He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Yes, don't worry - it will be small in size. But big in fun.” 
You snorted. “You are such a loser.”
“A sexy loser though, right?” It was your turn to roll your eyes. 
“So… You really don’t need me to do anything?” 
“Nope. You should just go watch netflix, or read a book or something.” He shooed you away. 
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
He just shrugged. 
“Fine,” you walked out of the kitchen, amused. But not before he swatted your bum on the way out. 
----------
Your friends started showing up around dinner time. 
As much as you resisted the birthday celebrations, you were actually quite excited to have them over. What with your job and the touring you’d been doing with Harry, you hadn’t seen a lot of your friends lately. 
“So, did H get you anything good for your birthday?” Your best friend asked.
“He spoiled me the entire week.” You signaled to the necklace on your neck and told her about your upcoming trip to Japan. “He was really sweet. A thoughtful gesture or gift every day.” 
The group you were standing with swooned over the piece of jewelry and pride swelled in your chest when you told them about everything Harry did throughout the week. 
He was also the perfect host. He made burgers (meat and vegetarian options) on the barbecue, kept everyone’s drinks refreshed and made sure the snacks were fully stocked. Of course he did some mingling himself, both with his own friends he invited, but with yours too. You loved the way he always got along with everyone, he was a ray of sunshine in every room he walked into.
Harry was also mindful of giving you space to mingle with all your guests, only checking on you every so often to make sure you had a drink in your hand. 
While the conversation among your group pivoted to other things, your eyes scanned the expanse of the yard in search of him. You found him standing near the barbecue engrossed in a conversation with Jeff and one of your close friends from college. He looked handsome as ever, dressed casually in a pair of brown corduroy shorts, his ‘apollo eleven’ tee, and a light orange cardigan. 
Jeff was babbling on about something when Harry’s attention drifted in your direction. The two of you made eye contact, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.
“Hi,” he mouthed from a distance. “Alright?”
You nodded with a silent “I love you”, before turning your attention back to your friends. 
Later, the party was starting to wind down and you were at the front door, bidding goodbye to some folks. As your best friend was preparing to leave, she hugged you tightly and whispered in your ear, “call me tomorrow with all the details.” You were both rather tipsy, but you assumed she wanted the dirty details of your birthday week.
Afterward, you headed back outside to find Harry and the remaining guests seated around the patio table playing a card game. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Y’alright?” He asked. 
“Mmhmm. Thank you for the party.” 
“Tipsy?”
“And tired.”
“Want me to kick everyone out?” He said quietly, so no one else could hear.
You looked around the table to see some of your friends looking tired as well. One looked like she was passed out with her head rested on her boyfriends shoulder. Glenne was sat beside them and you caught her yawning.
When you looked at your watch it read, 1:30 AM. At this age, none of you could party like you used to. 
“Nah, I think we’re old enough that everyone here will be leaving on their own shortly. ‘S past all our bed times.”
And you were right, less than a couple minutes later, you heard the first “Well, I think it’s time to call it a night.” And everyone else followed suit. 
Once the last guest was out the door, you turned to Harry and wrapped your arms around him. His hand went straight to your hair, soothing the back of your head. 
“Can we clean up in the morning?” You asked, your words muffled against his chest. 
“Good idea, let’s get to bed.”
Sunday
Now that “birthday week” was over, you were determined to turn things around and be as giving and thoughtful toward Harry as he was with you this past week. 
Despite the slight hangover after last night's festivities, you made sure to wake up before him to prepare breakfast in bed.
Just as you sat up, Harry flung his arm around you and pulled you back into him. 
“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He muttered into your shoulder. You squirmed in his hold and he tightened his grip. “Stay in bed w’ me.”
You relaxed, with your back pressed against his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, and he grabbed your left hand with his and intertwined your fingers. 
“Do you know how much I love you?” He asked, and you nodded. You craned your head back, silently asking him to meet your lips with his. 
“You did an amazing job at showing me this week. “
“What I did this week is only a fraction of the love I have for you… Want to celebrate you forever.” 
As much as birthdays made you anxious, the thought of always spending them with him had a special feeling blooming in your chest. 
“Mmmm, only if you give me a chance to celebrate you too.”
He rested his chin on the top of your head and you closed your eyes, basking in the bliss of the sunshine radiating from the window and the warmth of the body wrapped around yours. 
“Don’t be upset, but I have something else for you…”
“Harry…” You whined. “I thought birthday week was over.”
He chuckled, “It is, I promise.” 
Keeping your left hands tangled together, he reached with his right arm toward the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling something out. 
“I know this week was a bit much -”
You interrupted him, “No, it was perfect, H. You’re perfect.” He squeezed your hand. 
“I want to spend all your birthdays with you. All of ‘em. Will you let me?” he whispered. That’s when he held a small box in front of you. You were in shock when he opened the box and inside sat an intricate gold banded diamond ring that glinted in the sunlight. 
“Marry me.”
----------
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK :)
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liyue-harbour · 5 months
Text
happy birthday, your grace
happiest birthday to my favourite genshin character, wriothesley! 🫶🏻 a ‘lil something for his special day, i hope that you all enjoy it <33
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“what is all this?” wriothesley inquired, his tone a curios mixture of sternness and genuine interest.
his office, once adorned with rich tapestries and antique furnishings that held an air of refined elegance now carried a different note—a note of celebration and warmth. it was wriothesley’s birthday, and against the backdrop of his meticulously organised desk, you had orchestrated a small surprise. a modest tea set adorned the polished surface, delicate porcelain cups reflecting the soft glow of the antique lamps. a simple yet decadent cake, adorned with intricate icing that mirrored the patterns of fontaine sat in the center, waiting to be enjoyed.
as the day drew to a close, you ushered wriothesley into his office, a conspiratorial smile playing on your lips. the surprise in his stormy eyes was evident as he took in the unexpected scene before him. his office did not look like this when he left earlier.
“it’s a celebration, your grace.” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “a modest affair but a celebration nonetheless.”
a flicker of surprise crossed wriothesley’s features before being replaced by a measured composure. “i see,” he said, gaze lingering on the tea set and the cake. “and what is the occasion?”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his feigned obviousness. “wrio…,” you declared with a mock solemnity, “it’s your birthday.”
he regarded you with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “very well,” he acquiesced, taking a step closer. “shall we proceed with this…celebration?”
the two of you settled into the plush chairs, and you poured the fragrant tea into the delicate cups. the room was bathed in a arm, golden glow as the lamps cast their light upon the scene, creating an ambience that felt both regal and intimate.
“you do realise,” wriothesley remarked, taking a sip of tea, “that celebrations of this nature are not a customary affair in fontaine.”
“consider it a deviation from the customary, then,” you suggested, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “a chance to break free from tradition and enjoy the simpler pleasures of life.” he hums, and for a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift.
you clinked your tea cup against his, and the rich aroma of the tea envelopes the room, filling the space with a sense of tranquility. after a while, you signalled to the cake, it’s tempting allure impossible to ignore. “shall we indulge in a slice of fontaine’s finest creation?” you suggested, gesturing towards the cake adorned with edible depictions of the nation’s iconic landmarks.
wriothesley nodded, and you carefully sliced a portion for each of you. the cake was a masterpiece, it’s layers a harmonious blend of flavours that elicited a quiet hum of satisfaction with every bite. as the last crumbs disappeared, you couldn’t help but notice the genuine smile that graced wriothesley’s lips—the kind of smile that was rare and precious. the atmosphere, once steeped in the formalities of the fortress, now held a warmth that transcended the grandeur of the office.
“thank you for this,” wriothesley said, his voice carrying a sincerity that reached the depth of his stormy eyes. “this has been an unexpected but pleasant deviation from the usual routine.”
the glow of the lamps seemed to intensify, casting a soft radiance over the room, “it’s the least i could do,” you replied, own smile reflecting the joy of the moment. “birthdays are meant to be celebrated, even the almighty duke’s.” wriothesley chuckles as he takes another sip of tea.
“happy birthday, wriothesley. i love you so much.”
“i love you too”
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Text
“…𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮..
𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮…”
╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴
well that was one way to be broken up with.
she couldn’t even be mad at the guy. he had been very sweet and patient but she had spiraled and started missing texts that turned to missing calls— which turned to missing dates. wasn’t the first time either, she just was that much of an exhausting person to keep up with.
in the sense that she was always behind.
she let out a sigh as she rid herself of his footprints, deleting his texts, deleting any photos, unadding him on socials— the whole nine yards.
but when it came to that dreaded voicemail.
her finger hovered over the red trash can button, taunting her.
and then she pocketed her phone, she supposed it would serve as a reminder.
that it was always her fault.
she rubbed at her face before emerging from her room.
“ah, you’re awake.” her raven haired roommate looked up from his book
“and to think we thought you were just about to sleep through your date.” her snowy haired roommate chimed in from his position laying across the raven’s lap
“ah, about that… i just got broken up with.”
“…”
it was quiet between the three of them, then again when was it not? she never made much efforts to communicate with them past their typical chores and roles in the housework.
the two in a friendlier than most relationship were seeking a third person to help take up the lease and that’s exactly what she did, nothing more nothing less.
and when it got awkward…
“yeah…” she murmured looking at her hands
“do you… want to talk about it?” it was a cheap attempt, she appreciated it nonetheless
“i’d rather not, i think my first proper conversation with you two shouldn’t be me bitching about my ex.”
satoru’s airy laugh sounded as he got up from his lover’s (?) lap.
“please, we wouldn’t be opposed.”
“speak for yourself satoru, only you are a fiend for other people’s affairs.” suguru tsked, closing his book slightly
“but please, if you need someone to talk to— we’re both willing.”
“i thought i was the fiend suguru—”
“you are, i’m offering as a concerned roommate.”
“i’m fine.” her words a lot harsher than she intended
and then came the unconvinced, concerned glances.
“sorry.”
and then she retreated back to her room.
if she kept this up she’d find herself out on the streets.
she let out a sigh, it was what she deserved right? no boyfriend, no roommates, no friends, nothing.
on her birthday no less.
she let out a sigh, she might as well distract from this pitiful day.
————————————————————
nothing beat rearranging your room instead of confronting your feelings.
she shook her head, she didn’t have a right to feel anything more than empty. the only thing that she felt was the need to rearrange her room and rearranged it was.
she needed a new change of scenery, after all she was another year older.
and yet still none the wiser.
the brutality of reality seemed to sting more as one got older.
she sighed, at least she can mope in a clean room.
a knock pulled her from her thoughts.
“it’s open.”
and then there stood her two roommates.
“i don’t think we’ve ever seen your room—ack! ow…”
“seriously satoru?”
“what? it’s true…”
she stared at the two bickering before the raven sat his eyes on her.
“y/n… we wanted to see if you were free later—“
“please, she’s always free—“
a smack, then a whine.
“we’ve realized that you haven’t been properly introduced to the area… we’d love to do you the honors.” he offered a half hearted smile
she supposed it was true, aside from her dates once in a while— she never really was familiar with the area.
“i suppose i can accept.”
“i told you suguru now we have to drag her ou— wait what?”
she chuckled, for the first time in a long time, a genuine chuckle tumbled out from her lips.
the two men were in awe.
“i’ll join your endeavors to wherever, i… i could use the fresh air.” she swallowed
the bright blue eyed man seemed ecstatic as he left her room pumped, the more subdued raven gave her a soft smile before leaving her to get ready in peace.
“thank you for humoring us.”
she should be thanking them, but she wouldn’t say that part out loud… at least not yet.
—————————————————
she couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward as she was wedged between the two men who insisted.
something about her being too small and easily losable in the crowd.
apparently these parts were known for having winter night markets where the cold winter streets would warm to life with street food and vendors.
she hardly had a chance to process the sights and the atmosphere as they dragged her from stall to stall, sampling food, eying trinkets, playing games.
she’d be a liar if she said she wasn’t having fun.
“wait guys— i’m gonna get some of the dango from earlier.” satoru was bouncing away before the two could even respond
“well his dentist certainly has their work cut out for them.”
suguru had to process her snark words a little before letting out a chuckle.
“believe it or not, satoru has the most elaborate brushing routine that I’ve ever seen. he’d rather die than develop any sensitivity to sweets.” he hummed
“i see.” she hummed, starting to rub her hands a bit
“getting cold?”
“a little, it’s fine— i’ll probably invest in gloves one of these days…” she sighed a little
“here, let me.”
he gently took her hands in his, letting her much smaller hands rest nice and warm in his own.
“your hands always this warm?”
“i’d have to say quite the opposite for you, and here i thought satoru’s was bad.” he chuckled lightly
“speaking of— if it’s within my boundaries… what are you two?” the words just tumbled out of her mouth
they weren’t married, and they seemed very comfortable in each other platonically as well.
it was obvious that they loved each other, but she couldn’t help but wonder in what way?
he tilted his head slightly.
“perhaps soulmates, life partners. he’s practically my everything.” he smiled
“oi! quit being so cryptic!” suddenly satoru was back with his dango in one hand and the other around the raven
“he’s my person— not much else to it.”
“that wasn’t any better than mine in the slightest.”
“yeah but you go into the poetics of it too much, just call it as it is.”
and she was left with more questions than she had answered, but in a way she sort of got what they meant.
they were each other’s person.
“i’m glad you two have each other.” she gave them a smile
“ah shit— she just got broken up with… are we being too much?”
“satoru!”
and there it was again, that airy laugh that made the boys still. they were still in awe that she had it in her, not when she constantly looked miserable in their eyes.
“guys, guys it’s fine— you don’t have to change anything for my sake.” she sighed, a small smile still playing at her lips
“ugh you’re so sweet! your loser boyfriend didn’t even deserve you like that!” satoru whined as he shook her a little
“especially dumping you on y—“
an elbow to the ribs and his hands were immediately off you.
“suguru…!” he groaned
“you have a big mouth.”
“oh but you like that~”
another elbow.
she couldn’t help but snicker at their antics, one moment they were like an old couple in love and another moment it was almost as if their were your typical best friends who’ve known each other forever.
she thinks she’s starting to understand what suguru meant by them being each other’s person a little bit better.
“sorry about talking about your relationships so carelessly.” suguru gave her a sheepish smile
“it’s alright, nothing that wasn’t my own fault.” she shrugged
they looked at each other.
she couldn’t just leave it at that.
“i have the tendency to just… withdraw..” she bit the inside of her cheek
“at some point it’s exhausting for the other person, dealing with me disappearing every so often— although it’s not intentional… it’s not hard for someone else to think i’ve lost interest or i’m being unfaithful.” she gave the two a half hearted shrug
“i suppose there’s just a lot i need to work on myself before i put myself out there.”
the two seemed conflicted, it was good she could recognize the areas she needs to work on…
“…but aren’t you being too harsh on yourself?” suguru blurted out, satoru immediately nodding
“there’s nothing wrong with working on yourself… but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to love and be loved.” satoru gave her a look
she knew they were right, but sometimes it was just easier to be miserable without having to think about another— only thinking about herself and her misery. she was selfish like that.
and they could tell by the conflict that flashed on her face.
before the conversation could progress any further she felt something cold prick at her nose, and then she looked up.
a gentle snow was falling.
“well would you look at that.”
she wore a wistful expression as she looked up, letting the snowflakes gather on her lashes as the warmth of her skin melted the ones on her face.
perhaps it was the universe letting her have this one thing, the first snow.
suguru and satoru seemed thrilled as well.
“suguru— look!”
“i see it satoru.”
but everyone seemed so far away as it was just her and the gentle snow.
it was beautiful.
but beautiful things hardly last.
“…!”
she looked back at the two who gave her a look, suddenly she was back on the busy night market street.
“you’re shivering.”
she didn’t notice until another one wracked her body.
before she could speak she felt herself being dragged along by satoru, suguru trailing behind the two.
“wha..? where are we going?”
“somewhere to warm up!”
——————————————————
when the two dragged her off, she expected for them to go back to their shared apartment or a restaurant.
but she was sitting down on a couch in a dim room with a microphone in hands while colored lights danced around the room.
“i… i have a few questions—”
“come on! it’s nice and warm and you can sing your heart out about your shitty ex!”
“he wasn’t shitty though, it was my fault we broke up.”
“that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel some type of way about it.”
which was true.
“come on you know the classic breakup songs right? it’ll get whatever off your chest—“
and before she could protest satoru was already queuing up a song.
and that’s how the rest of the night went, although hesitant at first it wasn’t long before the three taking turns in singing songs and ballads. from cheesy classics to songs of yearning and heartbreak that suguru sang a bit too well for satoru’s comfort.
“i’ll never make you feel like that!” he whined clinging on to the raven who gave him an exasperated look
“i know.”
she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, it was nice to be around other people.
“i’m going to the restroom.” suguru hummed before peeling satoru off of him
“can i come with~”
“no.”
she snickered a bit at satoru’s clingy behavior.
“he’s so mean to me!” he huffed
“i think he knew if you two went together you wouldn’t be coming back out any time soon.” she mused
he let out a dramatic sigh.
“i suppose you’re right.”
“also we couldn’t leave your mopey self all by your lonesome.” he gave her a little nudge
she shook her head with a smile.
“i think i would’ve managed.”
“yeah yeah don’t lie— you’ve been all sad about your lame ex. y’know if you said no earlier sugu and i would’ve just dragged you out one way or another.”
“i’d like to see you try.”
“suguru manhandles me on the daily— we’d get ya.” he snickered
a comfortable silence fell between the two.
“do you feel better?”
she pondered his question a little.
“i do…”
but.
“but..?” he tilted his head
“it’s not even the breakup at this point…” she sighed a little
it was the prospect of getting older, and not a damn thing changed.
life itself was a fickle thing, ever changing.
so why hasn’t she?
gripping onto the ways of her past, she joked that she peaked when she was younger and it was all downhill from there… when did it start being actually true?
her past, her youth— it took all the best parts of her.
and now she was someone despicable enough to be broken up with on their birthday—
she felt cold hands on her cheeks, snapping her from her thoughts.
“you got lost in your head.” bright blue eyes staring down on her as she blinked
just how long did she spend ruminating looking like a complete nutcase in front of him?
“suguru was right— your hands are cold.” she mumbled out
“you alright?”
“i’m not sure yet.”
“…you wanna sing one more song?”
she sighed.
“pass me the mic.”
she got up to go queue up the next song, her back towards satoru— he didn’t need to see her inner turmoil boil up once more.
she heard the door click open, she figured suguru was back.
“ah— suguru. you wanna join the last—“
the words on her lips died as she turned around to meet his gaze, only for it to fall on a cake.
a birthday cake.
“welp— cat’s out of the bag! woooo! happy birthday!”
she was still processing it.
“satoru that’s hardly appropriate,” suguru rolled his eyes at him before turning to face her once more
“come, sit down.”
so she sat down on the couch in between the two as suguru set the cake down in front of her on the table.
“we weren’t sure what flavor you’re into but as a self proclaimed confectionery connoisseur, all the cakes from this bakery are really good so it should be alright.” satoru hummed as he pulled out candles from his pocket and expertly placed them around the cake
she finally found her words.
“how… how did you know…?”
suguru gave her a small smile.
“well at first we didn’t, but then we did some extensive research—“
“we were snooping around your socials.”
“…yeah that.”
her lips couldn’t help but quirk up at that.
“we knew something was up when you bothered to speak more than five words to us.” satoru shrugged before being met with a smack to the head
“owww…! it’s true!”
“forgive satoru, he’s bad at handling delicate situations.”
“i’m just saying it how it is! you looked more down than usual and we snooped around! can we talk about how shitty your ex is for dumping you on your birthday?” he ranted which earned him another smack
she was overwhelmed with emotion, she didn’t even realize the tears that started to stain her cheeks.
“you made her cry.”
“shit— i’m sorry!”
“no no,” she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand
“i’m grateful i promise, just processing… y’know?”
“we hope you know that you deserve this, having a birthday worth celebrating.” suguru put a hand on her shoulder
she offered him a watery smile.
“hug? you look like you could use one.” satoru offered
typically she would’ve refused, she wasn’t big on physical gestures but she couldn’t stop herself from nodding softly wiping her face some more.
she let herself be caged in between the two, taking in their scents and warmth. she relaxed into their holds, letting out a sigh once her sniffling subsided.
“thank you.” she whispered softly
“i know we’re still sort of strangers but we’ve grown a liking to you, if you ever think you’re alone especially here… we’re here for you.” suguru murmured
“you’ve already been welcomed in our lives aside from the roommate formality stuff, it’s just up to you if you want us in yours.” satoru chuckled lightly ruffling her hair a little
“i’d… like that.”
and they held on for a little bit longer, she held on for a little bit longer.
“now how about we blow out some candles?”
❀° ┄───╮
this one is dedicated to all the girlies who feel some type of way (wanting to die lol) on their birthdays, including me today :,)
╰───┄ °❀
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