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ellastone-olsen · 3 months

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can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3

Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request

★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff

★Word count: 1.8k

★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.

The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”

A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.

The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.

Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.

She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.

The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.

Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.

When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.

You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.

After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."

She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.

The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”

Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.

Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.

“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.

Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

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katyspersonal · 9 months

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#vagueblogging #i have the absolutely weird luck when it comes to checking internet #like you know how if someone blocked you you can't see their posts on the dash and in search results #but if you click on someone's blog and scroll manually you still can see the posts (just not like or comment them)#like if someone reblogged a post and you check manually the reblog is still seen even if op blocked you?#and like there is this person whom i have seen drawing something regarding [character] with the same oddly-#-specific detail as what i've coined in #but also i shared a [thing] and they've drawn a [thing] too one hour later or something?#i strongly doubt there are TWO people who check on me #besides they don't strike me as a type to take inspiration for drawings from someone they hate #(i say as i know absolutely nothing about them lol)#so my only guess is that we are coincidentally thinking in the exact same way #it is absurd how my haters tend to think in similar ways to me creatively????#whereas my fans share like 0 headcanons and ideas with me ahahaha #what does it say about me as a person when my haters are more similar to me than my fans?#right - nothing good #again i am not gonna flatter myself with hopes that i am inspiring people beyond my tiny pool of fans #and will just call it a chain of frustrating coincidences

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infamous-if · 5 months

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Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

#update #December update #Amy the chatterbox

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straykeedz · 6 months

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day 26: lee know x reader x han: mirror sex

©straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; mentions of kink exploring but nothing too descriptive; fingering (f receiving); cum tasting; nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don’t!!! 🤨); blowjob; cumshot; choking if you squint; creampie; clit play; mentions of overstimulation but it’s not described; oral sex after reader’s been creampied oops; slight mxm if you squint ;♡

wc: 3,8k;

okay the premise is that i absolutely hate this fic. i started four different plots for this kinktober fic and i’m not satisfied with this at all, but i needed to post something otherwise i would’ve quit. i know myself. so bare with me if this sucks, i went through (i still am tbh) a creative block and couldn’t come up with anything better.

also, funny anecdote: 99% sex, 1% mirror lol

let me know if there's any mistakes - finished writing this super late at night so there might be!

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 : @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; @tooskathepiratefromshield ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

🪞

You’re not used to having two men in bed with you.

You’re not used to having two pairs of hands on you - touching your body, caressing it, squeezing it. You’re not used to having two tongues on your skin - licking every inch of your flesh; two mouths - biting every spot they can, praising you, humming against your body every time they get a reaction from you.

One of them - your sweet, beloved boyfriend Jisung, a cutie pie in the streets, an absolute freak in the sheets. A man with whom you’d tried everything in bed - literally everything, and tonight is no exception.

The other one - his best friend Lee Minho.

It was Jisung’s idea to have a threesome with him. Your jaw had nearly dropped when he specified that he wanted to have a threesome with a man - not any man, his best friend. You’d assumed he wanted to see you in bed with another woman, never in a million years you would’ve guessed a scenario like this - you, sprawled on your bed, Jisung hungrily kissing your lips as Minho plays with your naked breasts, pinching one nipple with his fingers and teasing the other one with his lips.

Well, let’s just say Jisung is a man full of surprises - not that you’re complaining, naturally.

“A threesome?”, your words nearly came out as a loud squeak.

Beside you, Jisung simply nodded. “I mean, only if you’re up for it, too.”, he shrugged. “I can live without it.”

Kink exploring with Jisung was always fun and exciting and it never disappointed you. Never. Before sex with him, you didn’t even know you could cum from your nipples only, for example. Or that you could squirt. Or that you loved overstimulation. Or or or or. Kink exploring with him was honestly your favorite thing, and you wanted to do something for him in return, help him explore his kinks.

“No, it’s okay. I want to try it.”, you promised, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Are you sure?” Jisung asked you, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “You don’t have to say yes just because I want it. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel pressured, love.”

“I’m not, I don’t feel pressured.”, you smiled at him. “Just… Do you have someone in mind? Someone you’d want to do this with?”

Jisung nodded. Now you were curious to see her - to see the woman he wants to do this with, together with you.

“Who is she?”, you asked him, but you saw him lift his eyebrows and blink a couple of times.

“Oh, it’s… it’s not a she. I was thinking…”, he trailed.

“Thinking…?”, you encouraged him.

“Minho.”

And you can’t really blame him - Minho’s hot as fuck and he surely knows what he’s doing in bed. His fingers are expert on your skin, despite this being the first time he actually touches you, but somehow he seems to know exactly where to touch you and what to do to make you squirm under his fingers. Said fingers wander all over the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen, until they stop right before he could brush your mould with his delicate digits.

“Can I touch you down here?” Minho lets go of your nipple to look you in the eyes and ask you the question - big, dark eyes staring deep into yours, pupils blown and you actually find it cute.

“Oh, God, please. Yes.” It should’ve come out from your lips - instead, it’s Jisung who says the words. You giggle, seeing your boyfriend so desperate and eager, and Minho chuckles as well.

You nod, smiling at him. “Yes."

Your breath hitches when Minho’s cold fingers slip under the fabric of your panties and finally touch you there. The way he touches you is so different than when Jisung does it - his touch is timid, tentative, and his eyes are staring into yours to search for any sign of discomfort. He doesn’t know how you like to be touched down there, after all it’s only the first time you’re doing this. His fingers brush your entrance, and he bites his lower lip when he finds out you’re already wet - no, sopping, your panties are drenched in your arousal.

“She’s wet?” Jisung asks Minho, his fingers replacing his friend’s on your nipple, unable to tear his eyes off of where Minho’s fingers disappear inside your underwear.

Minho looks at Jisung, then nods. “So wet.”, he dampens the pads of his fingers, coating them in your arousal, then you feel his digits parting your folds, and you suck in a breath, wrapping your fingers around Jisung’s wrist. “Listen.” Minho tells Jisung, and then he slowly starts to move his fingers inside of you, until squelching sounds are all you can hear.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath, then looks at you with full-blown pupils and flustered cheeks. “Oh, jagi, you’re so wet.”, he huffs. “You like having Minho touching you, don’t you?”, he pinches you nipple. At the same time, Minho’s fingers brush and tease the spongy spot inside of you, making your toes curl.

You nod, biting your lip, unable to speak properly.

“Touch her clit, hyung.” Jisung instructs. “She won’t be able to cum otherwise.”

Minho chuckles, then raises you eyebrows at you both, because he can feel you’re already close, and he hasn’t touched your clit yet. “Mh, we’ll see about that.”, he applies more pressure on your g-spot, making you whimper as your grip around Jisung’s wrist tightens. “Think you can cum like this, y/n?” Minho asks you, looking you in the eye.

You nod eagerly, feeling already close to your first orgasm of the night. Jisung’s a bit confused now and slightly offended, because he never made you cum with his fingers on your g-spot before. Okay, maybe it’s because he gets so eager and needy that he just has to pull his fingers out and fuck you with his cock after a couple of minutes, but still. And now his best friend is about to make you cum with two fingers shoved inside of you, and it’s the hottest thing Jisung’s ever witnessed, and he wants you to witness it too.

“Look at yourself, jagi.”, he holds your chin with his fingers, then turns your head to face the huge mirror doors of your wardrobe at the end of your bed. You’re met with your reflections - you, sprawled on the bed, Minho lying next to you, Jisung on your other side, staring in the mirror as well. “You’re so fucking hot, my sweet love. About to cum with another man’s fingers inside of that sweet little pussy of yours.”

And Minho didn’t even notice the huge ass mirror doors before - too lost in how incredibly sexy you are, with your chest quickly rising and falling, your legs shaking as his fingers quickly work you up to an orgasm. But now - now he’s unable to tear his eyes off of your reflection in the mirror, and he can’t wait to see how beautiful you look when you cum.

“Fucking filthy…” Jisung mumbles, letting go of your chin, but you don’t move your head. “So fucking needy, look at you.”, he mocks you, then pinches your nipple, making you wince.

Then, Jisung turns to look at Minho. “You wanna see how hot she looks when she cums? Wanna hear how sweet she sounds?”, he asks, and before he even realizes it, Minho’s nodding like crazy. “C’mon then. Make her cum, Min.” Jisung demands.

And Minho does make you cum - fingers on your spongy spot, rubbing it mercilessly as your walls clench and your legs shake. You let out a muffled cry, closing your eyes as you release around Minho’s fingers, soaking them completely. The boys are speechless - both looking at your reflection in the mirror, an ethereal sight. Minho’s sure he won’t be able to forget it anytime soon - the way your fingers fist the sheets and your chest rises and falls as you bite your lip.

You whine at the emptiness once Minho removes his fingers from inside of you - long, skinny digits glistening in your orgasm. “You should taste her, hyung.” Jisung speaks softly.

Minho brings his two fingers to his mouth, then wraps his lips around them and sucks, swirling his tongue all over them to lick them clean - you taste amazing. “So sweet.”, he mumbles, pulling out his fingers from his mouth, and Jisung quickly wraps his hand around Minho’s wrist to wrap his lips around his hyung’s fingers, even though Minho’d already licked your arousal off of them.

“Minho…” you shake him off of his own thoughts, and Minho’s eyes focus on you - cheeks flustered, still panting. “Can you fuck me now? Please.”

Minho’s eyes widen and Jisung hums around his hyung’s fingers. For a good second, he’s shocked, because he wasn’t expecting such words to leave your mouth. His eyes immediately flick to Jisung, and the younger boy smirks, releasing Minho’s fingers from his mouth.

“Whatcha waiting for, hyung? You heard her.”, he says, grinning from ear to ear. Then, Jisung looks at you. “You need cock that bad, don’t you, jagi?”

You nod, licking your lips. Jisung chuckles. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Minho’s gonna give it to you real good.”, he turns to look at his friend. “Aren’t you, hyung?”

Minho bites his lip, and his fingers begin to wander all over your body once again, pads of his digits brushing your nipples once again, feeling them harden under his touch. “I am, I am.”, he nods, and then palms himself over his boxers - now feeling incredibly tight.

Now that he knows how your walls feel wrapped around his fingers, he can’t wait to find out how you’ll feel around his cock. It should feel at least a bit wrong - to be this impatient to fuck your best friend’s girlfriend, shouldn’t it? He shouldn’t be so turned on by this. However, in the confines of his black boxers, he’s rock hard. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he kneels on the mattress and hooks his thumb at each side of his underwear, beginning to pull it down his legs. You bite your lip at the sight of those beautiful dancer’s hips and thighs, and your eyes widen once his cock is finally freed - it slaps against his abdomen, hard and thick, tip beautifully pink resting against his abs.

“Shit.”

Again - it should’ve come out of your mouth, but it’s Jisung who swears under his breath at the sight of Minho’s cock - at least one and a half inches longer than his, and slightly thicker. And Jisung’s not small - the opposite.

You prop yourself on your elbows, looking Minho in the eye. “How do you want me?”, you ask him, hooking your fingers on the side of your panties, trying to pull them down your thighs, but it’s hard using just one hand, so Jisung helps you and slides them off completely.

There’s only one plausible answer to that question in Minho’s mind.

“On your back, like this. In front of the mirror.”, he answers a little too quickly. Ever since he saw your reflection in the mirror earlier, he knew he wanted to fuck you in front of it - see your head hang at the end of the bed, witness your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he pounds into you.

Jisung smirks - he knows his hyung too well.

You smile, too, positioning yourself just like Minho wants you, and you shiver when he places the palms of his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. Even though he made you cum earlier, you still feel a little shy to be this exposed in front of him - bare pussy on full display for him to see. Minho spits on his palm, then pumps his hard cock a couple of times.

“Still okay with not using a condom?”, he asks you, staring into your eyes, wanting to make sure you’re still comfortable with him fucking you raw, like you agreed. You nod, a clear signal you didn’t change your mind.

Jisung gets rid of his boxer just as Minho aligns his tip at your entrance, making your body jolt in surprise because it feels even bigger, prodding at your entrance, ready to slip inside any second now.

“I’m putting it in now.” Minho tells you, and you suck in a breath when he finally enters you - thick tip parting your folds, slipping inside your wet, hot cunt. And once he bottoms out inside of you, Minho, too, needs a few seconds to recollect himself.

Once again - it shouldn’t feel this good, to be buried inside your best friend’s girlfriend’s hot, tight pussy. He shouldn’t feel so eager to please you, to fuck you, to thrust inside of you ruthlessly until you’re falling apart on his cock, begging him to let you cum.

It shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. It does, especially when Minho lifts his eyes to meet your reflections in the mirror - the sight so filthy and pornographic. Him, kneeling between your spread legs, balls deep inside of you - and you, lying down beautifully on the bed, one hand fisting the sheets and your other hand on Jisung’s thigh. Finally, Jisung - with his hard cock out, fingers wrapped around it as he too watches the scene before his eyes.

Minho begins to move at a slow and steady pace, knowing that if he goes too fast he’s not going to last. The way his cock moves inside of you is deliciously beautiful, hitting all the right spots, its tip brushing your g-spot with every movement, facilitated by how beautifully curved upwards his length is.

You kick your head back, looking at Minho’s reflection in the mirror, a smile spreading on your face when you see his furrowed eyebrows and focused expression as he watches how your tits bounce with every thrust.

“D’you like it?”, you purr, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “You like watching yourself as you fuck me?”

And Minho whimpers, hips snapping to meet yours. “Yes- fuck.”, he swears. “I like looking at you more, though. So fucking sexy.”, he compliments you, continuing to fuck you a bit faster now that he’s sure he won’t cum too soon.

The room is filled with moans - yours, Minho’s, even Jisung hums contently from time to time, eyes set on where Minho’s body is connected to yours. He bites his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy lips spread around Minho’s thick length, and he can only imagine how tight you feel. He bets you’re dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait to fuck you once Minho’s done with you. Right now, however, he needs to relieve some of the tension he’s feeling - cock painfully hard in his fist.

“Think you can take care of me as well, jagiya?” Jisung asks you, lazily pumping his cock. “Think you can make me cum while Minho fucks you?”

You nod, and Minho thinks he’s about to pass out - fucking you and seeing you focused on making Jisung cum at the same time? This is even better than his fantasies. “I can, baby, you know I can. I can take care of you always.”, you whine, eager to touch your boyfriend’s cock.

Minho’s cock is pretty and he surely knows how to use it - but Jisung’s is your favorite. Long and thick enough, a long vein decorating the underside of it, and a dark pink tip - perfect. Perfect for you to wrap your hand around, perfect to take in your mouth - in your throat, actually, until your nose is completely buried in Jisung’s soft pubic hair, just how he likes it, before he’s shooting in your mouth.

“That’s right, jagi.” Jisung caresses your cheek, brushing your lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he gets closer. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you, so fucking lucky you’re mine.” It feels almost weird to hear these words come out of Jisung’s mouth when you have another man’s cock inside of you, but you know he means it, and you know he’s right. You’re his. “Now open that pretty little mouth of yours, my jagiya.”

You do, and then you feel his cockhead brush on your open mouth, before entering it. Minho doesn’t stop moving inside of you - eyes set on the image of you giving your boyfriend a blowjob while he’s fucking you. He has to grip your waist with his fingers to balance himself as he continues to thrust, eyes flicking from your stuffed mouth to the mirror, then back on your mouth and back on the mirror.

“One cock’s not enough, mh?” Jisung mumbles, running his fingers through your hair. You slowly shake your head, humming. “Such a pretty little slut, isn’t she?” Jisung moans, turning his head to look at Minho, as you continue to suck on his tip - your fingers wrapping around the rest of his length to jerk him off.

“The prettiest.” Minho bites his lip, still pounding inside of you. “She’s so tight, Han.”, he huffs, muffling a sound.

Jisung grins. “I know.”, he chuckles. “You should try her mouth next. Feels like heaven.”

“Better than her pussy?” Minho pants.

Jisung scoffs. “Yah, don’t be ridiculous, hyung. Nothing feels better than that pretty little cunt.”

It’s funny - that they’re having this kind of conversation while they’re both inside of you at the same time. It makes you hum around Jisung’s dick, which sends a shiver down his spine. You can feel he’s close, and that encourages you to cup his hot, heavy balls with your hand, knowing it’ll send him over the edge in record time.

“God, jagi, you’re gonna make me cum.”, he breathes, kicking his head back as his whole body tenses. “Wanna cum on your tits. You gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”, he rambles and nearly slurs his words, already seeing white. You hum once again, and he pulls away from your mouth, wrapping his own hands around his cock as he strokes himself swiftly.

It’s a sight that blesses Minho’s eyes - Jisung’s cum paints the soft flesh of your tits mere seconds later, decorating your skin, some of it landing directly on your nipples, and as much as it sounds absolutely crazy in his mind, Minho feels the urge to lick them clean. Wrap his lips around your soft, sensitive nubs and suck them clean. It makes his cock throb inside of you.

Jisung wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand as he tries to regain his breath as his cock softens, still glistening in his own cum and your saliva. Minho can’t fucking wait to have your lips wrapped around his cock, too. The mere thought is enough to make his cock twitch once more.

“Fuck, I think- I think I’m close.” Minho mumbles, tightening the grip on your hip as he fucks you harder now. “Can I- fuck, can I-“

“You can do whatever you want.”, you pant, already feeling the familiar sensation in your lower belly as he mercilessly pounds into you, thick, veiny cock stretching you out so good you nearly see stars. “Fuck, Minho, do something, anything.”

Minho’s hands travels all over your body - his fingers smear Jisung’s cum on your tits as he collects some of it on his pads. Then, his fingers reach your mouth, and you gladly welcome them when he shoves them in your mouth, tasting your boyfriend’s cum off of his best friend’s fingers. Meanwhile, Minho’s thrusts turn unsteady and erratic. You’re both so, so close.

“Where can I cum? Fuck, I’m so close, where-“

“Inside of her.” Jisung speaks, and you nod eagerly.

“Inside, Min. I want it inside.”

Minho cums inside of you, with his hand gently wrapped around his throat - eyes set on your reflections in the mirror doors, watching how your eyes roll in the back of your head and your lips part as you release around him, your walls squeezing him tight, milking him until he gives you all of his cum until the very last drop.

The sight is so fucking hot Jisung’s hard again.

Minho’s movements come to an abrupt halt, and you’re both panting heavily, trying to regain your breath and consciousness. He’s careful when he pulls out - your legs are still shaking and you’re pretty sensitive, he doesn’t want to overstimulate you, he doesn’t know you actually love it.

Luckily, your boyfriend does.

An evil grin appears on Jisung’s face. “Why don’t you lick Minho clean, jagi?”, he suggests, and you eagerly nod, despite being exhausted. “I bet he’d love it.”, he grins at his friend, who’s still pretty dazed from his orgasm.

Minho nods nonetheless, and kneels right next to you so that his now half-limp cock is close to your mouth. You nearly don’t realize Jisung’s presence between your legs, lying flat on his stomach, staring at your creampied pussy and biting his lip at the sight of Minho’s cum dripping from your hole.

You wrap your lips around Minho’s cockhead at the same time Jisung places his tongue flat on your hole and laps at it. “Mhh, Minho tastes good, jagi, doesn’t it?” Jisung huffs against your lips, continuing to lap at your folds, tasting your orgasm mixed with his friend’s.

“So good, baby.”, you hum, pulling out Minho’s cock from your mouth. Then, you look at the older boy and lick your lips. “Wanna find out how Jisung tastes like?”, you ask him.

Minho really shouldn’t be nodding so eagerly.

You chuckle, collecting some of Jisung’s cum from your chest with your digits, bringing them closer to Minho’s mouth. He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around them, humming as he sucks Jisung’s cum off your fingers, swallowing it greedily.

“You liked it?”, you giggle, and Minho nods - full-blow pupils, absolutely sexdrunk. “I think you should lick it off of me, then. Here.”

Minho licks Jisung’s cum off your chest, and Jisung licks Minho’s cum off your stuffed pussy.

You chuckle, running your fingers through Minho’s hair as he hums against your skin, swallowing every single drop until you’re completely clean. “Good boys.”, you praise them, and they both whimper. Predictable.

Jisung lifts his head, lips a bit smeared with both your and Minho’s cum. “Jagi, I need to fuck you now, please.”, he practically begs, staring at you with big, doe eyes. You nod, smiling at him. “On your tummy.” Jisung instructs, and you nod once more.

“This, hyung,” Jisung starts, gripping your hips and positioning your body so that your ass is up and your face flat on the mattress, looking at Minho as he speaks “is the exact reason why we’ve got mirror doors on our wardrobe.”

Jisung spits on his palm and pumps his cock a couple of times before aligning his tip to your entrance. Minho looks at you in the mirror.

“So I can look at her fucked out expression while I give it to her from behind.”

🪞

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hunnylagoon · 6 months

Text

Birthday Girl

A/N This is my first tumblr fic. I’m a retired Wattpad warrior, I only wrote this bc the Ellie tag is over diluted by smut, we need some angst and fluff to balance it out. My credentials are that I used to write Game of Thrones fanfic and I was blocked by Noah Beck on Twitter. Apologies in advance for any spelling errors or confusing sentences, bc I was high off my ass when I wrote this.

Summary

Jackson’s resident Baker works herself tirelessly to take care of everyone on their birthday and ensure they get something nice to brighten their special day but who is there to take care of her?

Birthdays are like brilliant gems in the kaleidoscope of time; they are the times when life's symphony crescendos into a celebration of its children. As the sun circles the earth once a year, we are given a day to celebrate our own journey, a day that whispers stories of victories, laughter, and the sweet notes of resiliency. You had always loved birthdays, who didn't? The look of joy on someone's face when they open a gift you spent weeks looking for, the uncontrollable smile and pure serotonin that took over even the grumpiest of people. Everyone had a special day designated to them, of course, it was a cause to celebrate.

You worked in the town bakery with very few other people, from five am to twelve pm on Monday to Friday every single week you were hustling around in a humid bakery, hell, you ran it like the navy. Every morning, walking into the bakery is like stepping into a fragrant paradise where time seems to slow down to the sound of ovens buzzing to life. The first two hours were just for you before you let anyone in, The comforting routine of donning a flour-dusted apron and tying back unruly hair precedes the artistry of crafting pastries and breads. The almost therapeutic rhythm of kneading, rolling, and shaping becomes second nature: the soft crack of eggs, the calculated pour of sugar, and the clouds of flour hovering in midair.

There wasn't much creative freedom while working in the Jackson bakery, it really just consisted of making dozens of bread loaves daily and then carting them over to the 'Barbecue Place' Which was once a restaurant though it had been refashioned into Jackson's mess hall. However, you were able to dabble in some fun and were able to make cupcakes daily and a large batch of miscellaneous pastries every Friday. The cupcakes were very dear to you, you had to beg Maria when you were thirteen to approve the idea and eventually, you were green-lit.

As you step into the bakery you are greeted by the creek of wooden planks which are a testament to decades of busy activity; the dance of innumerable bakers has worn away at their shiny surfaces. The aroma of baked goods still hovers in the air from the previous day and all the days that came before, taking you to a more peaceful time. Sunlight streams through old lace curtains, illuminating worn, mismatched tables and chairs that have served eager clients for centuries though they no longer serve guests in the bakery. Deeply patinated wooden shelves support a variety of ceramic jars, each containing a treasure trove of hidden ingredients. Fading photos and yellowed newspaper clippings decorate the walls, telling the story of the bakery's illustrious past. There are copper pots and pans strung like time capsules on strong hooks, and an old-fashioned cash register sits on the end of the counter past the empty glass displays, it no longer serves a purpose but you have fought bravely to keep it around as it makes you think of what life had been like before the world fell apart.

You look at a beat-up calendar on the walls, sitting in the place of an old picture frame that had been knocked down and shattered by none other than yourself when you were fourteen and had the bright idea of having you and your friend toss a bag of flour at each other to see who was strong enough to last longer in the odd game of catch. Surely, Ellie threw the five-pound bag a little too hard, you ducked to save yourself but it smashed into the framed photo of the family who ran the bakery before the apocalypse. It not only was smashed into little fragments but the bag of flour exploded and covered the dining room of the bakery as well as yourself in white powder, it looked like it had snowed inside. The calendar you were checking held the birthday of every person in Jackson, it was messy and hard to read as you usually had to cram several birthdays into a single day which was only a small square, it was hardly legible, there was almost no one else who could read it. Every day when you walked into the bakery, the first thing you did was check the calendar to find out whose birthday it was, then you began your bread dough or carried on with the sourdough started the day before, while the dough rose, you made cake batter, adjusting the recipe according to how many you had to make. After finishing work for the day or sometimes when you were midway through it, you would give each person a cupcake to celebrate their special day.

Even if no one else remembered their birthday, you were always there to make it a little bit better.

Today there were two birthdays on the calendar, Sean Casey, a man who was turning sixty. The second birthday marked down in the little square was yours.

That's what made that day so special, you were ecstatic to see what your friends had planned for you later. Last year Ellie promised that she would go above and beyond for your next birthday and you were going to hold her to that. There was already a nice start to your morning by having your dad wake you up with breakfast in bed which you found truly impressive as he usually slept in till at least ten, on top of that he had scavenged a stand mixer for the home. You grabbed your apron off of the hook putting it over your neck and tying it tight around your waist. Everyone had a couple of designated aprons to rotate through throughout the week, yours consisted of two plain white ones, a red gingham pattern, one of forest green, and another made of a fabric covered in hyacinth flowers, their colours diluted like paint. Today you wore the apron your father gave you last year on your birthday, it was your favourite colour and the neckline was embroidered to say '(y/n)s kitchen'. You could tell your dad did the embroidery himself, the stitches were loose and uneven in some areas while being extremely tight in others, that's why you loved it so much, it was the thought and care behind it.

With a gentle hand, you pulled each of your necessary ingredients along with equipment out to begin your day. You preheat the ovens and in the quiet pre-dawn hours, the bakery comes alive with the hushed sounds of industrial mixers. The heady scent of freshly milled flour dances in the air as you measure the precise alchemy of ingredients, your hands moving with practiced grace. Kneading the dough becomes repetitive, muscles working in harmony to transform a mound of humble ingredients into a soft elastic texture. As the dough rests and rises, the anticipation builds—the promise of crusty loaves and soft, pillowy interiors. You slipped the pans of dough into the industrial ovens, the heat attacking you the second you opened the door; making sure to place the pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, brioche and wheat loaves all sorted on different racks in the respective ovens.

By the time you put the loaves in ovens it had been two hours from when you began, even with preparation the day before and dough starters, it was a process. You quickly washed your hands before unlocking the door for Juno as well as anyone who wanted to come in to visit.

The clock read '7:09', because of the passthrough you were still able to look outside via the glass storefront, you could see people walking along the streets heading to whatever job they worked to contribute to the community, no one got paid, it was a commune after all, you couldn't imagine a world where everyone was so dependent on money and so obsessed with over-consumption. Part of you was waiting for one of those people to come in and wish you a happy birthday, but you shook the thoughts from your head.

You began to make the small portion for two of cupcake batter, remembering distinctly how four years ago you sat next to Sean at the Fourth of July party and he went on and on about how much he hated vanilla, it seemed like one of those crazy old man rants but you found delight in it. Never had you seen a man so passionate about cake flavouring. He said vanilla was nothing special, flavourless; you had come to learn that he was a chocolate man, every holiday event filling his pot belly with chocolate, when you had brought assorted sweets for a Christmas party he dove straight for the brownies. So it was easy for you to make up your mind on what flavour of cupcake to make.

After years of this cupcake tradition you had memorized each ratio to make, a double serving of chocolate batter consisting of 1/4 cup of flour, 2 1/2 tablespoons of white sugar, 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1/4 tablespoon of baking soda, a dash of salt, 2 tablespoons milk, two tablespoons canola oil, 1/4 tablespoon vanilla extract. You treated baking like it was a science and recipes were your formulas.

As for the frosting, you had a stockpile of plain buttercream that you took small servings from and flavoured according to said person's preference. All you had to do was whip it up and add some cocoa powder to make it fluffy and creamy again.

The bell above the doorway rang, signalling the arrival of someone, you looked up to see Maria. "Hey, there," You smiled, turning off the stand mixer so you could hear her.

"Hi, (y/n)," She greeted and you quickly wiped whatever was on your hands onto your apron before coming around to the service counter to speak with her. "I have something to ask of you."

"Yes?"

"I know you already do your little cupcake thing but we are throwing a surprise party tonight for Sean and I was hoping you could make a cake for him?"

You nod with a smile "Anything for the town chief."

"Great, then how about a simple vanilla cake?"

"Sean doesn't like vanilla," You answered quickly.

"Okay, well I trust you with it, his party starts at eight tonight in the town square and he's turning sixty so it's a big one, I'll see you there around then?"

"Definitely," You grinned at Maria, waiting for her to wish you a happy birthday and reveal that she was only pretending to forget but she didn't. She thanked you and walked out, leaving you in a flour-covered apron with a tinge of hurt in your heart. It wasn't like you weren't close with Maria, you had Thanksgiving at her house every year.

Nonetheless, it was only a blip in your soon-to-be perfect day. Just as you had frosted the two cupcakes, putting chocolate chips on Sean's and breaking half of a double fudge cookie and sticking it into the thick icing. Rainbow sprinkles cascade like confetti, adding a whimsical touch to the miniature confection. The bell rang again calling for your attention, this time you didn't leave the kitchen instead just moved to look at whoever it was by the passthrough.

"Hey, kiddo!" Tommy greeted, clad in a red flannel tucked into blue jeans. He walked into the bakery as comfortably as he would his home.

"Howdy, Tommy," You said, moving out of his sight for a quick moment to put the two cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the buttercream from prematurely melting.

"So, it's Sean's birthday today and I was wondering if you could bake a cake for his party-

"Maria was already in," You answered "Don't worry, I'm on it."

He smiled "Of course, you're always so on top of it," He leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get a look inside the kitchen via the passthrough "Say, have you got anything back there for me?" You opened the box of double fudge cookies you made the day before and scooted around the passthrough to hand him one, boots clattering on the ground. Tommy loved to visit the bakery as you always had a sweet treat for him and he would never get sick of the aromatic embrace of fresh bread. "Thanks, kiddo, I'll see you around."

This was the moment you were almost convinced that they were planning a surprise party for you, sure Maria could forget about your birthday, she was a busy lady but there was no way Tommy would. He was good buddies with your dad and was over at your place for beers a minimum of once a week. You always baked for him when he came over and he constantly joked about you trying to fatten him up.

The bell sounded again though you didn't bother to look up, you knew who it was by the time of the clock, Juno was starting her shift. As usual, she tied her mousy brown hair into a sleek ponytail then grabbed her apron and stuck a baseball cap on over her head so there was no chance of her hair coming loose. "Good morning," She walked into the kitchen, heading over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Mornin'," You answer.

She looks you up and down with a slight smile "You're wearing your favourite apron, must be a special day."

“Sure doesn't feel like it."

♡

Your birthday wasn’t panning out great but you didn't want to lose hope.

You had walked over to the greenhouses after your shift to find Sean, he loved the cupcake, he even hugged you which was nice albeit a little odd. You walked through town a bit after you had stopped and talked to everyone on the street for not a single one to say the words you've been pleading to hear all day. Taking it as defeat, you grabbed a sandwich for lunch from the mess hall and began the desolate walk home.

Nestled at the end of a peaceful, tree-lined street, the charming but battered house had a certain charm that cut through its worn yellow exterior. Tentacles of ivy wrapped about the crumbling outside walls, their green tones infusing the dilapidated building with a hint of the natural world's tenacity. The worn-out yet friendly doormat and weathered rocking chair on the porch told of years spent taking in the changing of the seasons. The wooden frames of the windows, adorned with faded drapes that seen innumerable sunsets, spoke tales of laughter and time passed.

The house's coziness unfolded inside like a time capsule, with worn-out rugs covering creaky floorboards and a fireplace in the living room that was adorned with vintage tiles that were mismatched and provided warmth in more ways than one. The rooms had a lived-in comfort despite the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint, and each mismatched piece of furniture seemed to tell a story of its own. Despite being tatty and ragged around the edges, the house exuded a calmness that invited guests to enjoy the beauty concealed in the flaws of a place that had aged gracefully and with character like most homes in Jackson. The living room was always your favourite, there was a spruce bookshelf pushed behind the gray, L-shaped couch, and the rug was once a maroon colour though it's clear that it's been well-loved over the years. Pillows and throw blankets were carelessly scattered over the couch from when you and your dad had watched '21 Jumpstreet' the night before, he kept saying it was a shame the outbreak happened before they got to make a second one, though many of the jokes didn't land with you, you loved to see your dad laugh so hard he snorted. The room was illuminated by a warm glow from the fairy lights overhead that your dad scavenged years prior, a small stack of books piled up on the coffee table which had been hand-crafted by Joel.

You popped 'Mean Girls' into the DVD player, just to have some background noise and went to the kitchen and started on Sean's cake. As much as you loved the bakery, you wanted to be somewhere a little more close to comfort.

As you measured each ingredient with care, you couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingered in the air. Sifting the ingredients into the bowl, you had wished your father was home from patrol duty, all you really wanted was a hug but instead, you slaved away at a black forest complete with layers of moist sponge, decadent frosting, and a profusion of vibrant decorations.

As you delicately frosted the cake, your mind flitted between thoughts of the celebration and the poignant fact that everyone seemed to have overlooked your own special day. The kitchen, usually a sanctuary for you to escape to, now harboured the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart, though excited for Sean to get a nice surprise on his Birthday, held an unnoticed longing for acknowledgment.

The aroma of the baking cake filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of disappointment that you couldn't quite shake.

As the cake took shape, you couldn't help but think back to the calendar at the bakery, where the date circled in red seemed to mock you. Your own birthday, usually a day filled with surprises and the warmth of laughter, had slipped through the cracks of everyone's awareness. Though the night was still young and Ellie had said that she was planning something incredible.

Finally, nine was about to roll around, you changed into some clean clothes that hadn't yet carried the memories of your disappointing day, just a white top and some jeans. The sun had set, and your dad wouldn't be home for a good while so you walked over to the town square alone.

There was a table full of food and a long banner that read 'Happy Birthday Sean!' strung between two street lamps. There were twinkling fairy lights illuminating what would have otherwise been a dark night.

"There she is!" Tommy smiled, doing that awkward little dad jog over you. "Wow, that cake looks incredible, mind if I take it off your hands?"

"Go ahead," You held out the cakeboard. Tommy gingerly took it away from your grasp, his forearm underneath to support and his other hand held the side of the board for balance.

"I owe ya' kiddo," He winked before taking the cake away to show a group of adults.

You stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with yourself. You turned your attention to the moon, wanting to believe that it shined so very bright just for you, because the moon, unlike everyone else recalled how important this day was to you-

"SURPRISE!" Everyone erupted in cheers as Sean walked up to his party, his daughter had her arm linked with his. He had the biggest smile on his face it almost made you forgive everyone for forgetting because at least Sean got something thoughtful.

"Lord, I was thinking everyone forgot my birthday!" Sean laughed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.

"(y/n)!" Dina yelled, you turned your head to follow her voice. She was sitting at a long picnic table beneath an awning with some friends "Over here," She motioned for you to sit down and you obliged, taking a spot between Ellie and Laila. "What have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you all day."

"That's because you haven't," You said with an awkward smile. "I've just been baking, like always."

"You're always working so hard, I swear you live in that bakery and when you aren't in there your busy busting your ass around town to make sure everyone gets something on their birthday," Dina sat across from you and put a hand onto yours "You look out for everyone, but who's looking out for you?"

"My dad?" You glance at Ellie who isn't tuned into the conversation in the slightest, she has her arms crossed in front of her on the table and her head resting on them.

"Aw, that's sweet-" Kayla moves to look at you but in doing so, she spills a glass of juice onto you. "I'm so sorry," She slaps one hand over her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing. Kayla stood up from the table, her ginger curls rustling with the breeze "I'll get a cloth or something-

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off "It's just clothes, I'll grab some napkins." You push yourself away from the table, walking over to the table adorned with food, you see a small stack of Christmas themed napkins (it must've been hard for them to come by regular ones) and grab a handful, bunching them up in your hand in an attempt to soak up some of the juice that had already indefinitely stained your clothes.

You feel some eyes on you from the other side of the table, to look up and see Joel, he doesn't say anything though his lips are pressed together tight.

"You're back," You say, a spark of happiness rekindling inside of you "So my dad's back from patrol too?"

Joel nods "Too tuckered to come out, said he was just heading home," He uses tongs to put a couple cuts of chicken onto his plate "Oh and happy birthday, you've probably heard that a whole bunch already, lord, it's all your old man would talk about on our last couple of patrols."

"What did you say?" You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure if he said what you really thought.

"I said happy birthday, shame you've stained your clothes on your birthday," He absentmindedly added some mashed potatoes onto his plate. The words hung in the air, a moment that transcended the boundaries of their usual exchanges. You, momentarily taken aback, met Joel's gaze. It was a simple, earnest wish, uttered with the spontaneity of someone who had remembered a small yet significant detail in the whirlwind of festivity.

"Thank you, Joel," You replied, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and gratitude. In that fleeting instant, the isolation that had surrounded her seemed to dissipate. A connection, however tenuous, had been forged in the acknowledgment of her existence amidst the collective celebration.

"No problem, kid, I'll see you around," He left with his plate leaving you to stand alone at the table. You continued to dab at the juice on your white top, and though you knew it wouldn't come out you proceeded to rub it; the best exchange of your day, no more than eight sentences suddenly turned from joy to frustration. The only two people who remembered your birthday were your dad and a fiftey-eight-year-old man who practically raised the girl you had spent years crushing on, not the girl herself, but her father figure. However, you thought, maybe if Joel remembered, Ellie had aswell and she actually did have something planned.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter that reverberated through the night, you stood in the midst of flickering candles and colourful decorations, your eyes cast down to the ground. The atmosphere of celebration enveloped her, but a palpable sense of solitude hung in the air like a heavy mist settling upon your shoulders. It was a birthday party, yes, but not your own. Forgotten and overlooked, your heart echoed with a quiet ache, the irony of your situation casting a shadow over the festive scene.

The square was adorned with streamers and balloons, a tapestry of colours that seemed to dance in rhythm with the joyful voices around her. The community gathered, their faces lit by the warm glow of the fairy lights and street lamps, each one caught up in the merriment of the moment. Yet, for you, the celebration felt like a distant spectacle, a scene from which you were detached.

It was your birthday too—a fact that no one cared enough to recall. As Darla (Sean's daughter) calls guests toward a decadent cake adorned with candles, which you had made, you couldn't escape the bitter irony of the situation. You watched as the room erupted into a chorus of "Happy Birthday," the song meant for another soul, another moment of joy. You joined in, lips forming the familiar words, your voice harmonizing with the collective melody. But within the depths of your being, the celebration rang hollow, a stark contrast to the cheer that echoed around you.

Throughout the evening, you navigated the party with a forced smile, concealing the invisible weight of your emotions. Conversations buzzed like bees in your ears, no- it grated like a fork in a blender, but you found yourself on the outskirts—a silent observer amidst the numerous connections. The laughter that erupted like fireworks, the clinking of glasses, the embraces of old friends—it all seemed distant, an echo from another realm where she once belonged.

The party unfolded as a series of snapshots: a group photo with smiling faces, a toast to Sean, and the opening of gifts that weren't meant for you. Each moment, though vibrant and filled with the warmth of shared camaraderie, magnified the silence that enveloped your own celebration, forgotten and left to dissolve into the shadows.

As the night carried out, seeming like the celebration would never cease, you cut yourself a slice of cake, grabbing one of the half-melted candles that Sean had already blown out, they sat in a frosting-covered pile next to the cake. You took your favourite colour out of the rainbow assortment of candles and stuck it into the piece of black forest cake.

With your cake you sat back down by Ellie at the picnic table where she still returned to after conversing, everyone else had gotten up to dance. You reached for the lighter in your pocket and struck it to ignite, sparks flickered around the end of it, you struck it again and a flame arose, you carefully brought it to the wick of the partially melted candle.

The flickering flame cast a subtle glow as you made a silent wish for understanding, for the beauty found in selflessness, and for the recognition that sometimes the most meaningful celebrations are the ones we craft for others, even in the quiet echoes of our own unacknowledged birthdays. Ellie turned to look at you as the candle's flame danced in the darkness, before you could blow out the candle to solidify your wish a little girl climbed up onto the bench and blew it out, you looked at her and all she did was smile up at you, the gap in her teeth prominent, her deep chocolate hair braided so intricately you had to believe that it must've taken her mother hours.

As much as you wanted to deck that little girl in the face for ruining your moment, you didn't because it would be wildly inappropriate. "Do you want this?" You sighed, holding out the plate to the girl, she smiled and nodded enthusiastically, taking the cake and scattering away "Hey, Ellie," You pushed back tears in your eyes, forcing a smile on your face "Got any plans later?"

“Yeah," She said, short

"Oh, what are they?"

"Not to sound like a cunt but I'm not really in the mood to talk, I had a shit patrol and all I want to do is go home, smoke a joint, watch a movie, maybe read a comic, and pass out on my couch, the only reason I'm here is that Dina dragged me out and Joel said I need to be more involved in the community."

Your smile dropped, you couldn't hold it in anymore, realizing that this wasn't the elaborate setup of a surprise party but Ellie genuinely forgot it was your birthday. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what's happening today?"

"It's Sean's birthday," She gestured to the party around her.

"You're fucking serious," Any amusement that had been in your tone was gone, replaced by a subtle anger boiling up inside of you

"Are you going to cry?" Ellie gave you a weird look "What are you so mad about?"

"I can't believe you," You laugh bitterly "Actually I can, this is so like you, I need to stop building it up in my head that you're going to surprise me with something great. But hey, at least you never fail to let me down."

"Jesus," She scoffed "There's always something going on with you, can you go one day without finding some irrational reason to be upset?"

"Irrational?"

"Yeah, irrational," She reiterated "You always come to me when something sets you off in the slightest then your problem becomes everyone else's. You're so fucking draining and I'm sick of it."

"Fuck you, I hope your comic catches fire from your joint and you burn your place down." You stand up from the bench, wiping tears away from your eyes. Your boots clattered against the cobblestone. You stormed past the dancers, some stopping to look at one another with concern. Dina leaves Jesse to ask Ellie what happened.

The walk home might've been the loneliest you had felt in your life, the harsh wind of the night bit at your nose. The feeling of the sticky juice soaking through your clothing was borderline unbearable, were just about ready to scream. There wasn't a single person out and about as everyone was either at the party or cozied up in their own homes.

Arriving at your doorstep, you fumbled with the handle, the metallic clink resonating in the quietude that enveloped the house. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit foyer, still no surprise. Why do you still think there is going to be a party? No one is coming.

You wandered into the living room, the TV was lit with the options screen for 'Mean Girls' that you had put on hours earlier.

Sinking into the worn-out couch, You let the weight of the day wash over you. A single tear welled in your eye, and as it escaped, a floodgate of unshed sorrow burst open. The first teardrop traced a silent path down your cheek, leaving a glistening trail of heartache in its wake.

The tears you cried weren't silent and dainty but violent sobs that burned your throat each time you cried out. As you wept, it felt like someone had stabbed your gut with a thousand needles, you cried and cried, to no one in particular, maybe the moon glistening outside the window though the moon seemed to absorb your tears, offering no solace in return.

The soft tick of the clock on the wall echoed in the quiet room, marking the strike of midnight, your birthday had ended. There was no secret party or a prank where everyone was only playing an act, only the emptiness of the house echoed the howls soaked in your tears.

The oak staircase creaked, and your dad turned the corner, peering into the living room. "What's wrong, honey,?" He shook the sleep from his mind, focusing on what was important, he sat next to you on the sofa. "I thought you said you were going to be out all night with your friends?"

You shook your head, breathing shaky breaths alone, hardly able to get a word out "They forgot," You felt the harsh sting of desolation hit you all over again "Everyone forgot," You grabbed his grey t-shirt burying your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you gently like you were a child who had just scraped her knee not someone who had just turned nineteen, "Except for Joel, so be nice to him, please."

"I'm sorry, baby, it was probably just a mix-up," He rubbed one hand on your back to comfort you. "I should've been there with you, I'm so sorry."

You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, all you could manage was to shake in your father's arms with sobs until you cried yourself to sleep.

♡

"Happy birthday, Jasmine!" You smile brightly, presenting a lemon-raspberry cupcake to the woman. She was serving breakfast in the mess hall, the early morning light streaming through the many windows, blinding those trying to enjoy their meals.

"Aw, thank you, love" She took the cupcake "That's real sweet," She wore a hairnet, despite having short cropped hair. "I just realized I don't even know when your birthday is."

"It was yesterday, actually."

"Aww, how was it?" Jasmine smiled, her white teeth contrasting with her dark skin.

"It was nice, it was quiet too, I just spent it by myself."

A frown replaced Jasmine's smile and she lowered her tone "Did your friends drop the ball?"

You wave off her question "Oh no, loads of people remembered, I just wanted some time to myself, it was nice."

You could tell Jasmine didn't wholeheartedly believe you, she was at Sean's party last night and saw you rush out with tears building in your eyes "If you say so," She shrugged, taking a bite of her cupcake "This is really good."

"Thanks," A small smile plays on your lips.

"God bless you, sweetheart, you deserve the best." She said, every bit of truth behind her words. She took another bite of the cupcake, savouring the sweet and sour taste "And I mean that."

You were too caught up in conversation to notice Jesse ahead of you in the service line right away, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the dispenser, trying to play cool and not have your attention drawn to him. With a shaky hand, he put the glass on his tray and hurried over to the table where Ellie was eating with Dina. "Guys, something not that great just happened."

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows looking from Dina to Jesse "What?" She asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, she swallowed them down and spoke back up "Please tell us what terrible thing has happened in the time it took you to walk to the service line, get your food and come back?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"We forgot (y/n)'s birthday," He said quickly, Ellie and Dina looked at each other with wide eyes, thinking back to the night before and the way they had both behaved. Dina was extremely ignorant and Ellie got into an argument with you, though Jesse didn't speak to you at all.

"We're awful friends," Dina says quietly, scraping her mind for any way they could salvage the situation and play it off like they hadn't forgotten. "We could change all of the calendars in town and make it seem like her birthday is actually today."

"Be serious, Dina," Jesse said, though he was considering her idea. "I think the only way we can fix this is by making it up to her."

"How would we do that? We can't make it up to her, she remembers every single person's birthday in this town and gives them a cupcake, even people she doesn't like, do you remember how she planned all of our birthday parties for the last four years and has never let us down?" Dina and Jesse nodded "And how we always scramble something together last minute? Like last year, we only remembered two days before and we threw her a subpar movie night, we watched Star Wars and she doesn't even like Star Wars."

Dina sucked air through her teeth "Yeah, not our best moment."

"You think?" Jesse asked, sarcastically. "And Ellie didn't make it any better by yelling at her yesterday!"

"You yelled at her? You told me you didn't yell at her," Dina whipped her head to look at Ellie, the smallest glimpse of judgment in her eyes. "Shh, she's coming!"

You were making your way to the exit lugging the cart that had held loaves of bread on it before you dropped them off to the kitchen, still in your flour-covered apron, hair pinned up messy, baby hairs flying away. Clad in jeans, a green T-shirt and beaten-up boots, clacking against the hardwood floor, you still looked beautiful to Ellie with red eyes and a puffy face from crying all night. "Watch this," Jesse murmured to the group before turning around and flagging you down. "Hey (y/n)!" He smiled brightly, his words catching your attention "Did you enjoy your birthday, yesterday?"

"Jesse, I know you heard me talking to Jasmine." You said and Ellie couldn't bear the disappointed look on your face. At that moment, the guilt hit her all at once. You had been the first kid her age that she warmed up to when she arrived in Jackson, trying your best to include her in everything. You invited her to hang out with your friends even though she didn't particularly get along with them, she went anyway because she just wanted to see you. On her birthday the previous year, you had scoped out an old comic store hours away just to bring her there for one day.

Jesse's smile fell and you had walked out the door before he had the chance to push a lie through his teeth. Last night's conversation echoed through Ellie's head over and over again, she cringed at the memory, god, why did she even say that?

Dina reached over the table and gave Ellie a harsh smack on the arm "Why did you even say that?!"

"Ow," She flinched, rubbing the spot that had been assaulted by Dina "What are you talking about?"

Dina looked at Ellie like she was just about ready to scream "What you said to her last night, what was going through your head?"

"Not much, apparently," Jesse answered for her, earning a death glare from the Auburn girl.

"I'll just apologize and it'll be water under the bridge," Ellie said, leaning back.

"That's not going to work," Dina replied quickly.

It, in fact, did not work. Ellie had shown up at the bakery where you promptly ignored her. "(y/n), I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday and said those things to you." Nothing Ellie said could get you to even look at her.

She had later stopped by your house, it was your dad who answered the door and Ellie sheepishly asked if you were home. He called for you to come down, the moment you saw Ellie, you shut the door in her face. There was no way she could defend herself, she couldn't say that she said those things because she had a bad day (even though she did), and that would just make her seem pathetic. She really wanted to say that she was scared of how much she liked you, she didn't want to ruin a good thing, you both had spent years playing the role of each other's best friend until Ellie started to distance herself from you and you ended up enwrapping yourself with work to distract yourself from the fact that she was drifting away.

Ellie didn't know what to do, if she didn't act fast, it would be too late and she was going to lose you.

♡

One week later

The sun was just beginning to set as you were already preparing to settle into bed and read a book, just about to change out of your floor-length sundress and into one of your dad's old shirts. However, your plans were interrupted when you heard your dad screaming downstairs, it was blood-curdling. You dropped everything, pulling your bedroom door open and rushing down the stairs, tripping on a step and stumbling before quickly regaining balance and moving with haste "Dad?" You called out, worry running through your head.

"SURPRISE!" People practically screeched, the volume so loud that you jolted back in fear. The chatter only grew as you looked around you and realized what was happening, this was your belated birthday party.

You were pulled in suddenly for a hug, squeezing you so tight you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull was Tommy "I'm so sorry, kiddo, I was being a real shithead on your birthday."

"It's okay," You choked out, nearly gasping for air. Much to your relief, he released you and you took a deep breath.

"Happy belated birthday!" Dina sang, placing a fat box in your arms. Many people followed after her, piling gifts on top of the initial one, you were quickly losing balance, so you stumbled into the living room and put the gifts onto the coffee table. There was so much life in the living room it was almost hard to believe that just a week before you had been crying alone, bathed in moonlight.

There were streamers strung throughout your house and odd dangly decorations that hung from the ceiling. Some balloons were taped to the walls while others bounced around the ground.

The lively hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the melodic strains of birthday wishes filled the room as the party pulsated with energy. Colourful decorations adorned the walls, and the air was charged with the festive spirit.

You had the biggest smile on your face while everyone joked and jeered. Shoving their gifts into your face, trying to get you to open them first. It had made you forget about how awful your real birthday was, though you did try to dodge awkward apologies of people fumbling over their own words to make up excuses as to why they missed your real birthday.

"Happy birthday to you-" A voice began singing, and soon enough the entire crowd joined in, harmonizing into an off-key rendition of the birthday song. They made way for the person carrying the cake which had been none other than Ellie herself. The song ended off and Ellie placed the cake in front of you on the coffee table. "Make a wish."

You blew out all of the candles, and no punchable little girl around to steal your thunder, the room erupted into applause. The celebration continued with the living room becoming a dance floor, laughter echoing through the corridors, and conversations flowing freely. The cake itself reminded you of the embroidery your dad had done on your apron, it was sloppy and imperfect but you could tell it was made with love, the icing had been put on prematurely and had partially melted off the cake. It read 'Happy birthday' with 'Sorry for being a dick' written smaller beneath the first bit of text.

"Thank you, Ellie," You smiled softly up at her.

No one else was paying attention to you anymore, aside from those who wanted a slice of cake. Ellie nervously fumbled around with her hands "Do you want to dance?"

Ellie invited you to dance as the opening notes of the song floated through the air and she held out her hand. With a gentle smile, you accepted and you moved into the middle of the living room to form a makeshift dance floor. The soft aroma of fresh flowers blended with the scent of vanilla candles created an ambiance that enhanced the moment's sensory magic.

To the gentle beat of the song, your bodies moved in unison. Your hand settled comfortably on Ellie's shoulder, and her hand wrapped around your waist. Your bond transcended the material in the living room dance, an unspoken language of mutual feelings and unknown depths.

You both danced, recklessly, so much so that you were nearly a hazard for the swaying couples drifting around you, moving faster and not hurriedly as the tempo picked up. With each step, the living room's walls became silent witnesses to a romance that was developing on the plush carpet under their feet. The muted rustle of your clothing and the melodic notes of the music were all that could be heard to your ears.

The two of you took great pleasure in the dance's exuberance, laughing at the imperfect nature of it. In the noise of the living room, your eyes, locked in a dance of their own, spoke volumes. You were embraced by the dim lighting's vulnerability, which freed you from the burdens of the outside world to fully enjoy the moment.

Ellie guided you in a soft spin as the song went on, your moves were not fluid and elegant but Ellie could've sworn that looking into your eyes made it feel like there was liquid sunlight coursing through your veins

You and Ellie drew closer in the song's last moments, your bodies pressed together in an embrace that went beyond the material. As the last notes of the music faded, they held each other for an extra moment, relishing the warmth that they shared and the unspoken promises that danced between them. You wished that you could've stayed in Ellie's strong embrace for centuries.

You let go of Ellie, taking a step back with a smile, "Why didn't you tell me you were such a good dancer?" You tease, almost out of breath.

"I didn't know I was," She grinned, taking the sight of you in. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair had become messy, she thought you to be beautiful all the same, if not more. Her eyes raked over your body, your floor-length sundress and mismatched socks "And here I was thinking it was too late for sundresses."

"It's never too late, Ellie."

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