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moominsuki · 2 years ago

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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — let me baby you on your birthday. will you let me, katsuki? (bakugou birthday special)

word count: 1.7k

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, handjob (m!receiving), very suggestive, lowkey cum-eating, lots of praise (m!receiving), subby!bkg / note. happy birthday katsuki, my lil firecracker.

some days are more rough than they usually are on katsuki. albeit, as a pro hero, most days are rough - on not only his body, but his mind and emotional state too. the constant bossing people around because they’re “incompetent fucks” as he would put it, and the micromanaging he has to implement onto his sidekicks because they can’t take out a small gang orchestrating an armed robbery at the local bank.

katsuki knew this came with being a pro but it didn’t make the bags under his eyes less dark or the weight of his tired footsteps less heavy as he went through days on autopilot. he loved the notoriety that came with being the number one but this? this was getting to him more than he was letting on.

that’s where you come in. his lovely, sweet, caring girlfriend. now, you didn’t enjoy telling your boyfriend to take breaks or to slow down, lest you get faced with a hard, vermillion-eyed glare and a bastion of words telling you that he “needed to do this to elevate his career,” and that “there were no breaks if he wanted to stay number one on the charts.”

you let it slide a lot of the time, knowing that your boyfriend was at the height of his career. even when he missed important dates or dinners with the parents - you know that this was an integral part of his life and it’s what you signed up for. well, that was until today.

april 19th. the day before his 25th birthday.

katsuki never took his birthday seriously - not unless the people around him made a big fuss about it. and ever since he had started dating you, every birthday had been extravagant. whether it was a home cooked meal, a fancy restaurant and buying him his favourite collector’s items, he knew that you would never let him just get old and move on. which is why you were having this current, heated discussion.

you’re standing in the kitchen, chopping onions as you sternly say his name,“katsuki.” he wants to roll his eyes and tell you to just forget about it but he opts to just doing the latter, not wanting to invoke even more fury in your spirit.

“just forget about it, y/n. ‘s MY birthday. if i don’t care about it, you don’t have to either,” he argues, taking off his muddy caked up boots and throwing them in his bag. he had already had a garbage day because the coffee maker in his office has stopped working and suddenly no one knew who’d broken it.

to make matters worse, a mission went to shit with deku not being specific with the villain’s whereabouts, thus compromising his position in the mission and almost killing multiple civilians. his back was aching and his throat was scratchy from the strain of shouting at idiots all day.

“what kind of girlfriend would i be if i just did nothing for your birthday? no, i refuse to have this discussion. you absolutely don’t need to go in tomorrow,” you say indignantly and the sound of your chopping and diving gets more precise and sharp and katsuki decides to just half indulge in your wishes - too tired to argue with you.

“fine, whatever you want. you win,” katsuki grumbles, walking over to you while you throw some stuff in the pan and resting his chin on your head and you can feel his weary body looming over you.

you turn to look at katsuki and plant a kiss on his nose at him being so agreeable. but you knew deep down that he would probably try to defy you anyway so you had to make sure he wouldn’t leave your grasp on his special day.

after katsuki washes up and you both eat a lovely pre-birthday dinner, your boyfriend tries to settle into bed and you place a hand on his bare chest, resting a leg over his waist.

“something wrong?” katsuki asks with a quirked brow and his breath hitches slightly when you plant wet kisses to his jaw and his neck while your hand descends lower to his jogging bottoms.

“should be asking you that, ‘ki. you’re so tense, baby. can feel how tight your muscles are just from touching you,” you hum against his stubbled jaw and katsuki groans quietly under his breath at your unabashed attention all on him.

“can i give you an early birthday’s gift?” you whisper, still laving kisses on his adam’s apple and neck. katsuki gulps, nodding, his golden-blond eyelashes batting against his sharp and tan cheekbones.

“yeah, course,” he hums and a pleasant rumble shakes through his chest when your leg slips in between his legs and you palm against his semi hardon that’s starting to chub between his thick, tan legs.

“want you to know i’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished at this age, kats. don’t know anyone more deserving of being the number one hero,” you say with a saccharine lilt to your voice and your hand slips under his both his joggers and pants to palm at him properly and you watch the way your boyfriend pants pathetically, his hips lifting up slightly to meet your touch, only to remove your hand to get him to push down his trousers and katsuki gets the memo immediately; frantically pushing down both his briefs and joggers in one swift movement.

you take a moment to spit on your hand and a hint of a whine catches in the back of his throat when he lets you further entangle your smaller thigh with his much bigger one, so you can get better access to his cock. you grab at his throbbing cock and languidly stroke him, from his angry-red tip with dribbles of precum to his heavy, weighty balls that were now shiny and wet due to the mixture of pre and your spit.

“so big, so strong. you’re so good at what you do and i’m so proud of you katsuki, just wanna show you how much i mean it,” you sweetly say and the raspy whimper that leaves his lips sounds so desperate, so unlike him. his hips rise to meet your touch and you speed up to reach every inch of his heavy cock.

you continue to praise him through touching his cock, “you’re such a good boy, kats’. so good at leading, so good to me. just want you to let me take care of you sometimes. will you let me?” and his hips jerk into your fist harder now.

“o-oh, baby, f-uck me, fuuuuck-” he moans gruffly and his eyes roll into the back of head when your thumb pays attention to the head of his cock, pressing into his slit and rubbing at what seems to be a never ending stream of precome.

“you’re gonna come for me, baby? you deserve it so so much, sweet boy. let me do this for you, ‘kay? look at how much you needed this,” you whisper into his slightly open mouth, his pink tongue peeking out and you both look down to see his wet and shiny cock and your soaked hand that’s tugging at him, all hard and fast.

“oh-ohhhh, urgh, fuck-fucken, gonna fucking come,” he moans and he looks gorgeous like this: katsuki’s face is scrunched up, a little pink in the cheeks and a tiny ‘o’ forms on the planes of his lips. his eyebrows are furrowed deeply and he doesn’t know what to with himself and opts to throwing one beefy, tatted arm across his eyes and another gripping tightly at your panty-clad ass.

with your hand busy jerking him off, you use your other to rub at his chest and thumb at pale brown nipples and then you slow down because you want him to see what you’re about to do to him before he reaches his limit.

he moves his arm when he notices you slow down and smile at him so sincerely, so bright and kiss his cheek.

“shh, just relax, ‘kay, baby? wanna see your pretty face when you come,” and you speed up all over again and you lean up slightly so you can use your unoccupied hand to thumb at the taint of his cock - the sensitive, veiny part that meets his balls and katsuki reels at the touch.

he’s all choked up with unshed tears wanting to fall down his face at your ministrations and the constant fondling at the base of his cock is too much for him, “hmmfgg - fuck, fuuuuck, right there, ‘m gonna come, shit, don’t, fuckk - don’t fuckin’ stop, ohhhh,” katsuki begs and he doesn’t know whether he’s begging for you to not stop talking or to keep touching him or both.

your clit practically beats out of your panties just looking at him reaching his climax and you talk him through it as the first spurts of his orgasm hit your arm and his pelvis, “so proud of you, kats’, just like that, yeah, babyyy, give me all of it, so good for me, huh?” you tease, with a sickly amount of sweetness and a hint of smirk in your voice and katsuki humps your hand until he’s spilt himself all over the expanse of his lower body and all over your hand and arm.

“fuck me,” your blond boyfriend breathes out, sniffling a little and quickly wiping his wet eyes and he leans on his elbows to assess the mess he made.

“you came a lot this time,” you giggle, poking fun at your hothead of a man and you lift your hand to suck at one of your fingers and katsuki’s eyes darken in desire all over again: his hands finding purchase on your waist and playing with the hem of your panties.

“how about you let me apologise by sitting on my face?”

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“is dynamight not coming in?” quizzes one of the sidekicks to the secretary and she shakes her head.

“nope. think he’s taking a day off for birthday celebrations. good for him,” she nods and the sidekick agrees.

dynamight comes back on the 21st very content and calm. no one knows what happened but they chalk it up to a great birthday surprise from you.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #not proofread #happy birthday babe #sorry im almost two days late #bakugou imagine #✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕

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tsunami-of-tears · 8 months ago

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Love Drunk

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 3 (Secrets)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Feelings are growing between Azriel, Y/N and Cassian. The only people who can’t see it are them.

Pairing Masterlist

A/N: This part is dedicated to @daycourtofficial because of our shared love for aphrodisiacs ❤️ I think this fic takes the cake for being my most unhinged.

Wordcount: 1.7K

Warnings: aphrodisiacs; sexual themes; very angsty; everyone is so clueless.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･

After her rescue, Y/N quickly became a vital part of the Inner Circle and she had grown quite fond of her new friends. Especially Cassian and Azriel.

Both males were equally as smitten with Y/N, often bickering about who would get to carry her while flying and racing to sit beside her at family dinners. They only stopped injuring themselves after Rhys gave them some stern words.

These affections had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the group. Everyone had clued into the growing feelings between Azriel, Y/N, and Cassian. Everyone except them of course.

Though the males fought over her, they were both content enough with their friendship and didn’t want to ruin that.

While Y/N enjoyed the flirtations and the distraction this offered, she didn’t allow herself time to dwell on her feelings. Instead, she opted to keep as busy as possible, in an attempt to fill the empty hole inside her.

She could mend a broken bone in her sleep, but a broken soul… That was something she hadn’t quite figured out for herself.

————

Months had passed, and everyone was getting increasingly frustrated with their friends. No amount of pep talks was making a difference. No one would make that first move.

So, the Inner Circle was bracing themselves for another evening of watching Azriel, Y/N and Cassian tiptoeing around the obvious. It was another typical family dinner since Y/N’s arrival, except it wasn’t.

“They look delicious, Elain,” Y/N gushes, slightly tipsy from the faewine. “Oh look! Mine is yellow. How did you know my favourite colour?” Y/N grabs the plate as Elain passes it to her and takes a bite. “Gods, you’re an incredible baker, Elain.”

Both Cassian and Azriel nod, agreeing with Y/N as they tuck into their cakes.

Slowly, their expressions start to soften and their eyes start to glaze over.

Y/N hiccups and starts to giggle uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?” Elain asks.

Y/N pauses, considering. “I’m not sure,” she says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

She doubles over, clutching her stomach. “I think— we’ve— been drugged,” she says breathily, trying and failing to regain control.

Azriel and Cassian’s eyes meet and they too burst out laughing.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Y/N leans back, rolling off the lounge and onto the floor

Running a hand through his hair, “Cauldron spare me, you guys go, I’ll look after them for now,” Rhys sighs.

Mor pats Rhys on the back. “Are you sure you don’t want backup?” she asks.

Rhys waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

The rest of the Inner Circle leave swiftly. Rhys pours another glass of wine and takes a seat at the dining table, preparing himself for a long night of babysitting his friends.

————

Reader

Bliss.

That’s what you felt.

Every cell in your body feels so light. Like you’re made of air, floating through space.

It’s so peaceful.

Your vision is slightly blurred, like a fog has settled in the room, curling around you. And yet, despite the haze - your head feels clear.

You know what you want.

You look at the two males before you. Gods. How did they get more beautiful? Your eyes flit between them, soaking in every detail.

You lean forwards, to where they are sprawled on the floor in front of the lounge, empty glasses discarded beside them.

You reach your hand out, meeting the force pulling you towards them, feeling the deep urge to— touch.

Your fingers gently graze Cassian’s cheek. He turns to look at you, hazel eyes drinking in your entire being.

“So beautiful,” you whisper, unable to hold the words back. You turn to Azriel, “Isn’t he?”

Azriel just nods, all words lost to him as he takes in your face. His expression is hungry. As if he could devour you whole.

You inhale, and their scent hits you.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

You exhale slowly as desire grows between your thighs. You know they can smell it on you, too.

The Illyrians look at each other, predatory smirks on both their faces. They turn back to you, moving as one. Cassian licks his lips and Azriel moves forward, placing a hand on your knee.

The heat from his palm radiates up your leg and your core throbs. Your heart pounds in your ears, your breath quickens and you start to give in to the raw need swelling inside you.

Your eyes go straight between Azriel’s legs, and the growing bulge. Your mouth goes dry and you let out an involuntary squeak as he trails his hand further up your thigh. Inching closer to your sex.

Cassian leans forward, his breath hot against your ear. “You smell divine, I wonder if you taste just as good,” he whispers, his hands too light as they tease along your body.

You inhale sharply, heat rushing to your cheeks. You glance down to his crotch, where his hard length strains against his leathers.

“Our sweet girl,” Azriel purrs, “You always take such good care of us. Can we return the favour?”

You let out a soft mewl, shocked by their forwardness tonight, though every part of you yearns for them both.

“I want you so bad,” Cassian murmurs, “Only if you want it too, angel.”

You resign control of your body over to your lust, the growing ache between your legs becoming too much to bear.

You nod at the males before you. “Yes, please,” you beg. “I can’t take it any longer.” You stroke Azriel’s cheek and you reach for Cassian’s thigh. They both move closer until their lips make contact with your neck. They leave a trail of passionate kisses down each side. Your head rolls back as you’re overwhelmed by pure desire.

You feel strong arms beneath you, lifting you off the floor. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” Azriel whispers. You nod, biting your lip and he carries you to his bedroom, with Cassian following close behind.

————

You can’t recall the last time you slept that well.

The bed is soft and warm and you’re surrounded by a red glow. The dream you were having slipped away, but left you with the feeling of safety and love.

As you regain awareness, you realise someone is holding you. Not just one male, but two. And that red glow… That’s the sun is filtering through wings. Illyrian wings.

They look so beautiful up close. The wings.

The membrane shines in the morning light. With each vein illuminated you can see the intricate paths across the surface, like the many branches that make up a forest.

You reach your hand up to touch one but pause before making contact, recalling what Cassian told you about them being sensitive.

Cassian lifts his head and looks at you with a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” he says groggily, “What happened?”

From your other side, Azriel stirs slightly in his sleep. You feel his arm tighten around you before retracting completely. He jolts back in the bed as he looks over your bare form.

You try your best to hide your wince at his movements. You clear your throat before answering Cassian’s question. “I believe we were drugged with a love potion last night, a rather strong one.”

“Am I that ugly you need to be under the influence to share my bed?” Cassian teases you.

“Actually… That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Love potions only intensify feelings that already exist.”

“Oh,” Cassian says.

You lay in silence for a few minutes, until Azriel dares to break it.

“So,” he starts, his voice taking on a nervous edge, “You have feelings for both of us?”

You look at Azriel, and then at Cassian before covering your face with your hands. You groan into your palms, utterly mortified by your predicament.

Not only did you share a bed with them both, but they were now aware of your feelings - thanks to your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you both in this position.”

Cassian laughs nervously, “It’s not like it’s the first time we...” he trails off and both males shift awkwardly beside you, unsure what to say.

You start to fidget with your hands as the anxiety builds and you’re unable to look them in the eye, to see whatever is it they are feeling. “Um, well, I’ve got things to do this morning, I’d better get up,” you say quietly.

Azriel slides out of the bed to let you up without a word. You grab your clothes that were strewn across the room, throwing your dress over your head.

The tension in the room is palpable, and you wish your friends would say something. Anything to reassure you.

You pause in the doorway, unsure if you should speak your mind.

You turn your head towards the two silent males. “I’m really sorry,” you whisper, rushing out of the bedroom.

————

In the privacy of your room, you allow your tears to fall. Your chest heaves as the sobs wrack your body.

How did I mess this up so badly? I can never look at them again… I’ll have to move courts.

You let yourself cry for a few moments before willing your body to be calm, pushing all your emotions down inside you to get on with your day.

You feel absolutely mortified that your friends now know what’s in your heart.

The one thing you don’t consider is that both Azriel and Cassian feel the same way.

————

Rhysand

Rhys swaggers into the kitchen where his family are seated having breakfast. He walks straight to Feyre, giving her a kiss on the cheek and ruffling Nyx’s hair, who is sitting in her lap.

“Good morning, it seems our little potion worked some magic,” he smirks.

“How mad do you think they’ll be once they find out?” Elain asks.

“Oh they’ll be thanking us,” Mor says, “Illyrians can be such dumb brutes, they never would’ve gone for Y/N without the push.”

“Ouch, thanks Mor,” Rhys winks.

“You,” she says pointing at Rhys, “are the dumbest brute of them all!” He responds by sticking his tongue out as Feyre and Elain chuckle.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d3 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

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inkdrinkerworld · 1 year ago

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I didn’t have the best relationship w my dad and I could totally see Remus healing r just by how kind and genuinely interested he is in their daughter. He loves talking to her, understanding her, getting excited with her on the things she gets excited about

Baby same same SAME

Your daughter bursts through your bedroom door, bolting straight for Remus who’s just finished dressing.

“Daddy, you wouldn’t believe what happened today.”

You roll your eyes, already aware of the whole ‘put down’ that happened in Kindergarten today.

Remus stops brushing his hair and sits on the floor- on a soft rug in the corner of your bedroom that was their designated ‘decompress’ space.

“What happened that I wouldn’t believe, calon bach?”

Your daughter vividly recounts the way one of the boys at school had decided that lunch time was the perfect time to try speaking to her- while she was eating her fairy cake no less and dipped his finger in her frosting.

“Daddy, I don’t know why he would even do that! And I scraped off all the frosting after even though that’s my favourite part because I’m not sure where his hands have been!”

Her dramatics- as Remus fondly refers to them- come from you, and it makes your heart stutter to see Remus remain so enraptured by her story.

Suddenly, tears spring to your eyes, even more so when he says, “How abouts tomorrow we pack an extra fairy cake and you can offer it to him?”

She frowns, a deep worried line in the middle of her forehead. “Do I have to? Because I really do love fairy cakes.”

You watch as Remus rubs her back, pulling her to his lap and deliberates her words.

You remember, without your consent, how conversations like these were usually exchanged with your mother, or your older brother if he was home from work but your dad never allowed any of it.

It would result in a flick of his wrist, a huffed ‘I’m busy can this wait?’ Or a simple yet very hurtful, ‘I don’t want to hear about your day, I just want quiet.’

Remus is never flippant or rude or anything that you had experienced when it comes to your little girl or even to yourself but it makes your heart grow an even stickier fondness for him.

“Okay maybe we can just start by telling him keep his hand to himself and if he wants an extra fairy cake you can offer it to him, yeah?”

Your daughter flops in Remus’ hold, head hanging off his thigh. “I guess.”

You chuckle wetly and Remus looks up at you- worry and then understanding passing across his face. He winks at you and you smile, wiping away your tears.

“Can we watch Klaus tonight? I fell asleep early after tea last night and I don’t think you and mama watched it without me.”

You both didn’t, having been far too exhausted to even blink for long after she had fallen asleep.

“No we didn’t look at it without you, sassy pants,” Remus pats her butt as they stand, “Go lay with mummy and I’ll bring up some snacks and water.”

Her eyes narrow as she climbs up the bed next to you. “Daddy you know I like the juice, the one mummy likes.”

Remus does know, he also knows it’s well past her bedtime already. But then you join the puppy dog eyes against Remus party and he’s putty.

“Fine but only a little.”

“I love you,” is repeated twice to him and he finds the words have never been truer even as he waters down some of the juice for your daughter and opts for her animal crackers that all of you love.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n #dad!remus lupin #dad!remus

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hslllot · 1 year ago

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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 :)

#my writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

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anonymousewrites · 6 months ago

Text

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon!Reader

Chapter One: One Hell of a College

Summary: Ciel is given a new assignment, and Sebastian and (Y/N) find a way to blend in at Weston College.

Mouse Note: We're jumping right into the plot! Also, MC and Sebastian as a couple looooove to, you know, be in love. Writing them makes me blush. But, welcome back to One Hell of a Love! I had a ton of fun writing the Public School Arc. I have no idea if my updates will get ahead of the anime so just be wary of that (I read the manga so sometimes I am unsure). But please enjoy, feel free to comment (it's encouraged because it helps me stay motivated), and welcome back to the series!

“Hello, darling,” said Sebastian, smiling at (Y/N) as he finished plating Ciel’s afternoon tea. On the tray lay a letter from the Queen, the seal easily recognizable.

“My love,” said (Y/N), letting him pull them in for a light kiss. “Sneaking kisses in the halls? How scandalous.”

“But you tempt me so,” said Sebastian with a smirk. “How can I resist?”

(Y/N) let out a light laugh before turning around to walk with him towards Ciel’s office. Since their confession, the pair of demons had been quite satisfied together. They doubted the humans knew they were together, but they didn’t care. Their connection was different than humans’, their relationship didn’t follow the rules set by the ruling class.

Besides, (Y/N) and Sebastian were singularly minded demons. Sebastian still had a job to do, and (Y/N) was entertained enough to continue helping him. Having a relationship merely added to their enjoyment of existence together in the otherwise monotonous, dull living and contracts.

What was a little fun with the demon they love if not adding spice to existence?

Sebastian knocked lightly on Ciel’s office door, and Ciel acknowledged their arrival. (Y/N) opened the door, and Sebastian rolled in the cart. Pleased with himself as usual, Sebastian announced the day’s tea and cake combination. He also offered Ciel the letter from the Queen, but Ciel opted to eat his sweet treat before attending to business. Sebastian and (Y/N) suppressed amused smirks at Ciel pushing back work in favor of treats.

Finaly, Ciel unsealed the letter.

“ ‘To my dear boy,’ ” he read. “ ‘The Campania incident was a frightful calamity. Have you already recovered? Are you enjoying your Easter? For my part, though Easter is here at long last, I find myself unable to whole-heartedly enjoy the holiday as there is something that weighs upon my mind.

“I am worried about Derrick, the son of my cousin Duke Clemens. Derrick is in the fifth form at Weston College. But for some reason, it seems he has not returned home since last summer. He used to write home every day, but his letters abruptly stopped as well…The anxious duchess has called at his house, but he refuses to return home and so on. If it was Derrick alone, we might chalk it up to a rebellious phase. However, other students have also not returned home. I wonder what in the world could have brought about this behavior.

“Because his only son is acting thusly, Duke Clemens continues to lose heart…The whole affair has me very concerned indeed. I pray my loved ones can enjoy Easter in high, peaceful spirits as soon as possible. Victoria.’ ”

Sebastian considered. “So, in short, Her Majesty has charged you to investigate the reason why students have failed to return home from Weston College.”

Ciel nodded. “Public schools are independent institutions that refuse all government intervention, so it’s hard to lay a finger on them. Rather, those involved with the school don’t want to publicize their internal circumstances by making waves.”

Sebastian raised a brow. “Worrying about appearances even at a time like this. My, my, this is why humans are so tiring.”

“You understand vanity quite well,” said (Y/N), smirking.

“I am one hell of a butler,” said Sebastian. “Of course I must act accordingly.”

(Y/N) simply looked at him in amusement.

Nearly rolling his eyes at their obvious flirting—Ciel was not nearly as oblivious as the other servants—Ciel spoke. “I’d like someone to infiltrate the school, but Weston usually only lets in the sons of aristocrats. Those with titles are few, and I’m acquainted with most of them. If it comes down to sneaking in, a disguise would be dangerous.”

“So you will go as yourself?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

“I have no choice,” said Ciel, taking a sip of his tea. “And I certainly wouldn’t mind having the Queen in my debt. The problem lies not in whether or not there’s an open place at Weston.”

“If there is none, you simply need to make one,” remarked Sebastian with a light smirk.

“I’ll handle the investigation within the school,” said Ciel. “Sebastian, (Y/N), you will have to support me without being discovered yourself. How you go about it is up to you.”

Sebastian and (Y/N) bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

(Y/N) knew that that order—“up to you”—would be put to good, entertaining use.

“What is our plan for assisting the Young Master?” said (Y/N), sitting down in the library of the Phantomhive Mansion.

“You do not think we will simply lurk in the shadows until needed?” said Sebastian. “It would give us quite a few private moments.”

“As lovely as that possibility is, I suspect you have more planned,” said (Y/N), leaning their head on their hand with a sharp grin.

“Perceptive as ever,” said Sebastian, pleased at (Y/N)’s acumen. “I feel we can better keep an eye on the situation and gather our own information as housemasters.” As adults in the college, they would be able to go places at times students weren’t—imperative for investigations.

“Playing professors?” (Y/N) considered. “I haven’t done that yet, and I rarely play a masculine role. It sounds fun.”

“I’m certain you’ll do wonderfully,” said Sebastian. “And I look forward to seeing in a more masculine role.” He knew for damn sure he’d be just as attracted to them no matter what form they took��he loved who they were, not their appearance. That meant little to demons.

He tilted his head. “However…we should try to craft the proper disguise for your role.” Sebastian put his hand on his chest. “I have the perfect outfit for myself, but we shall have to see how you look.”

“I can look masculine,” said (Y/N).

“You can,” agreed Sebastian. “But I want you to look dashing, not just masculine.” He smirked. “Come alone, darling.”

“You’re doing this to play dress up,” said (Y/N), smirking as they stood to follow him.

“Or to undress you,” said Sebastian.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Positively gluttonous~”

“I think robes would add to the outfit,” said Sebastian as he finished buttoning (Y/N)’s vest.

They rolled their eyes. “I can’t wear a professor’s robes until I am hired. This is enough, I’m sure.”

They wore a dark grey button-up with black pants, a black vest, a tie, and a coat overtop (which would become robes if hired). Around (Y/N)’s neck hung a silver cross. Some religious figures would claim the demons wouldn’t be able to handle the holy symbol, but they would be wrong. Unless being used with some sort of religious or divine magic, they were fine wearing it. In fact, (Y/N) and Sebastian knew that being religious would help them get the jobs as housemaster and assistant—they’d be seen as intelligent, well-rounded individuals.

“You do look quite handsome,” said Sebastian, brushing a hand over (Y/N)’s hair fondly. They had altered it slightly, too, in order to fall in a traditionally masculine style (the length would never matter, though, since men like Viscount Druitt were as respect as Lord Midford, it was just the styling to present more masculine). “However, we could run a test.”

“Go on,” said (Y/N), smirking. They were looking forward to learning what Sebastian was suggesting.

Sebastian stepped out of the room and called down the hall. “Mey-Rin, come here, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Sebastian!” said Mey-Rin, running down the hall. She, unsurprisingly, tripped, but Sebastian caught her and set her upright before she could knock anything over.

“Really, Mey-Rin, you must be more careful,” tutted Sebastian.

“S-Sorry, I am,” said Mey-Rin sheepishly, red as usual.

“Now that you’re here, I need you to see someone,” said Sebastian.

“Is it a guest?” said Mey-Rin nervously.

“If you’d like to classify them as so,” said Sebastian, his words avoiding a lie with practiced ease. He stepped to the side, and (Y/N) stepped into their masculine role.

“Hello, Mey-Rin,” said (Y/N), smirking.

Mey-Rin’s eyes widened, and a heavy blush appeared on her cheek’s like it did when she faced Sebastian. Obviously, she found this masc form of (Y/N)’s quite attractive (and who could blame her?)

“Oh, uh, sir, uh, h-hello! Nice to meet you!” She bowed awkwardly and ran off.

(Y/N) watched her in amusement. “I barely changed my form, and yet that’s the reaction I got.” They smirked at Sebastian. “I think this disguise will work perfectly. Humans always do love a nice face and figure~”

“They do indeed,” said Sebastian.

“And I know another being who likes to look at me,” teased (Y/N).

Sebastian smirked with sharp teeth, not caring in the slightest to look away.

“Now that we have our plans,” said (Y/N), continuing on, “We should ensure there are…job openings for us.” They glanced at Sebastian. “Don’t you agree?”

“Indeed,” said Sebastian. “I’m sure there will be an opportunity quite soon.”

They shared devilish grins which promised murder. They were going to have fun at Weston College.

“Heave-ho!”

The students of Sapphire Owl House threw their arms up, and Ciel was tossed up by the white sheet. It was an unusual welcome party (though Ciel had worried about hazing), but Weston College was already proving a bit…strange anyways.

“Well, how do you like the traditional welcome of our house?” said Clayton, grinning. “Devote yourself to your studies all the more as a member of Sapphire Owl house, do you hear? Okay! Toss him higher next. One, two—”

“What is the meaning of all this racket?” snapped an authoritative voice.

“Dash it all!” cried one boy.

“It’s the Housemasters!” said another, freezing as they realized they were caught.

Ciel rolled haphazardly from the sheet to the ground with a yelp.

“Clayton,” said a second calm, though commanding, voice. “An upperclassman such as you is involved in this? I’m ashamed.”

“Explain yourself.”

“Well, er, this is our house tradition…” said Clayton, formal as ever but a bit hesitant.

“My, my, tradition is all well and good, but try not to overdo it.”

Ciel looked up while someone knelt before him.

“So you’re the new Phantomhive boy.” (Y/N) smiled at him with a hand outstretched. “Hello, I am Assistant Housemaster Noir.” Now their outfit was completed with robes instead of a jacket.

“And I am Housemaster Michaelis,” said Sebastian, dressed in his own set of housemaster robes. His hair was pushed back, and glasses balanced on his face. He smiled. “Welcome to Sapphire Owl House.”

Ciel’s eyebrow twitched. So this was how they planned to get in to Weston College. Ciel hated Sebastian as a teacher, and now he was stuck with him.

Demons.

Ciel, Sebastian, and (Y/N)’s time at Weston College commenced and was as British as it could be. It was a highly regulated school that raised its students into diligent workers and well-rounded men while also catering to aristocrats. Now, they tried to teach diligence by having the boys do certain chores occasionally, but when Ciel had to clean the dining hall…It of course became Sebastian and (Y/N)’s chores instead of Ciel’s.

“Sebastian,” he called, pulling off his eyepatch.

In an instant, Sebastian appeared beside him, and (Y/N) only took a moment longer to follow Sebastian.

“Right here,” said Sebastian.

“Already calling upon help? My, not even a day has passed,” said (Y/N).

Ciel ignored the teasing and faced them with his hands on his hips. “It seems that Derrick has been transferred to another house.”

“We did check the student roll and found the same information,” said Sebastian, flipping the clipboard paper over. “His name is on the list of Violet Wolf residents.”

“An abrupt change,” said (Y/N). Their nose twitched. They didn’t trust it.

“He should be at his house now,” said Ciel. “I’ll go there directly, so you tidy up here.”

“Very good, sir,” said Sebastian, bowing as Ciel ran out of the room.

“Now, then,” said (Y/N), taking off their long robes and surveying the mess in the dining room. “To work, Sebastian?”

“To work,” confirmed Sebastian.

He smirked. They were about to clean this room so well that it would be inhuman. (Poor Ciel was going to be heralded as an excellent cleaner and be asked to do it more often. He’d hate that, and what was Sebastian to do if not make some small irritation for his master?)

Sure enough, once the dining room was spotless and Ciel had returned (unsuccessful) from Violet Wolf, he was giving great praise by Clayton at the amazing job he’d done cleaning.

“Mr. Michaelis, Mr. Noir!” said Clayton as he spotted the housemasters. “Please feast your eyes on the dining hall! Phantomhive put it in order.” He patted an irritated, exhausted Ciel on the shoulder.”

“Nice work, Phantomhive,” said Sebastian with an innocent smile while Ciel glared at him.

“Truly an excellent job,” said (Y/N).

“You, too, sirs,” said Ciel, gritting his teeth. Then, he paused. He could use this to his advantage. He needed to get close to the Prefects, and since Clayton was Bluewer’s Drudge…he needed to get close to Clayton.

“I’m very glad to hear that my work pleases you so!” said Ciel, suddenly grinning brightly. He put on a performance of boyish gratitude and eagerness. “You see, I’m actually quite good at housekeeping and such!” He saluted. “So, please, Clayton, consider me at your service whenever you need aaanything done.”

What a brat, offering up our services, thought (Y/N). That being said, his manipulation of others was entertaining. They supposed it was a fair tradeoff.

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louloulemons-posts · 1 year ago

Text

Rainy Days and Lattes

Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader

Summary : Steve goes to get a treat for him and Robin and ends up meeting you.

Word Count : 0.6k

Warnings : Pure fluff, not proofread, 4am writing 🫶🏻, steve is a cutie, just a cute little meet cute drabble, autumn-y rainy days (i am ready for the ber months) no use of y/n, fem pronouns, reader calls steve pretty.

A/N : Guys I don’t know how it happened but we hit 700 followers?!?! I am in shock! Thank you all so much for the love and support it means so much to me 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Steve had gone on his break, planning on fetching himself and Robin some warm drinks and sweet treats. He headed into the cafe at the end of the block.

It was quiet today, the autumn weather rolling in fast. Leaves turning from green to yellows and oranges, it was beautiful. Although it was damp, drizzling rain fell on him, speeding up to get out of it. Pushing the door open, a small bell jingled above him.

There were a few people sat inside : an older couple, a woman deeply interested in her book, a man and his daughter and two teenagers who were giggling away. Steve smiled, he enjoyed people watching.

Looking up at the boards and the glass cabinets he thought about what to get for Robin - probably opting for the sweetest thing they had.

“Hi, can I help you?” a voice spoke from the counter. Looking up he met your gaze, god you were beautiful. “Uh .. Hi, can I get um,” be cool man, relax, relax.

“Can I please get a hazelnut hot chocolate and a latte please,” he spoke, finally getting his words out. “Sure, is it to drink now?” you smiled.

“Take out please.” He was scared to meet your gaze again, worried he’d be tongue tied and embarrass himself.

He didn’t do as well with girls now as he used too, and well you were probably the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Okidoki, anything else?” you asked, taking his order into the register. “What’s the sweetest cake you have?” he asked.

“Maybe the brownies? or the millionaires shortbread, they’re both filled with caramel,” you explained, whilst pointing them out in the cabinet.

“Could I get one of each?”

“Sure,” you smiled at him again - secretly hoping he’d meet your gaze, cause gosh he was so pretty. “Okay thats $8.65 all together.” After exchanging cash and change you spoke again, “You can wait here or I’ll bring your things over.”

“I’ll wait,” he spoke gently, “Are you new here?” he asked. He’d been here before a few times and never seen you. “Not really. I don’t normally work this shift it’s all, and if I do I’m normally making cakes out the back,” you told him.

He hummed and nodded as he did so. “You come in here a lot?”

“Me and my friend take it in turns, we work at Family Video down the street.”

“Ah I see,” you nodded as you frothed some milk for the latte.

“I might start asking her if I can come here everytime we’re on together,” he spoke up.

“Oh yeah why’s that?” you asked, mouth curving into a slight smile. “Well there’s this really beautiful barista I’d like to see again.”

You nodded, pouring the hot drink into a cup. “Right, and if that barista was completely flattered because such a pretty boy wanted to see her again?”

“He’d ask her out, ask to see her out of this awful uniform.”

Huffing a laugh, you slid his cakes over the counter, turning to finish off his drinks.

“Well she’d be interested, can I take your name for her?”

“It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” you repeated, a smile now consuming your lips. “Mhm, that’s me.”

“I’ll let her know,” you spoke over your shoulder. Sliding the cups into sleeves and placing them in a cup holder so he wouldn’t hurt himself, you handed them over.

“Well it was nice meeting you Steve.”

“You too, have a good day.” You watched him walk out the shop, giving you a goofy smile and carry on his way.

Looking down at his latte cup he noticed some scribbles on the side. Moving as quickly as he could he headed back to work, passing Robin the cakes, to decide which she wanted and her hot choc.

He slid the sleeve off the cup and couldn’t help grinning, it was a number and a name. Your number and name. “God Dingus, you finally get your game back,” Robin teased from beside him.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, smiling as he took as sip of what may have been the best coffee of his life.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

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aruanimess · 19 days ago

Note

Hello, Myrtle! 🖤

I hope you're doing well, and wish you a good *timezone*, and don't forget to take care and rest :3

If it's still actual, and only when you have time and more energy, could you please share your ideas of quiet sings of love prompt "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?" for AruAni feat. JeanPiku? I'm curious about your thoughts on this prompt, and I hope it'll also cheer you up and bring a smile on your face while working on it (but only when you have more spare time, no rush!)

Sending you many, many hugs and best wishes, Myrtle⊂⁠(⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠⊂⁠ ⁠)⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Quiet acts of love prompts

Anna!! Such a lovely prompt! I wanted to finish it for the boy’s birthday, but alas… the tiredness won out T^T

Anyway, I hope you like it :)

~~~

“N— no, that’s just wrong.”

“Pshaw, no, it’s not. It’s perfectly reasonable actually!”

“I’m sorry but I can’t get behind this. You can stretch the definition, sure, but still it doesn’t apply. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not stretching it, I’m following it to its logical conclusion.”

“No. I’m sorry, Pieck. I disagree.”

Jean enters the kitchen. His pajama shirt is buttoned wrong and he must have opted out of shaving for the day because his patchy stubble is clearly visible. This is what vacation Jean likes to do then: sleep in and skip shaving, thinks Armin, lamenting the fact that in all their years of friendship this is the first time he glimpses this side of him.

Pieck leans back in her chair, craning her neck to spy at Jean’s ass while he fills up a mug with fresh-brewed coffee. “Babe,” she says in a sugary voice. “What do you think? Is cake a sandwich or not? I’ll give you a hint. The answer is pretty… sweet.” She winks. Or blinks. Both eyes close at any rate.

Jean narrows his eyes as he sits with them at the table. “What are you guys going on about?” He slurps his coffee loudly.

His former zeal returns with vengeance. “That’s another issue actually. Sandwiches are generally savory.”

Pieck grins like a lazy, smug cat. “Have you never heard of an ice-cream sandwich, Armin?”

Rats. She has a point.

Jean sets his mug down with a decisive thunk. “This debate is stupid.”

“No it’s not!”

Pieck and Armin glance at each other in surprise. In their affront, they both spoke at the same time. They giggle at their own silliness.

Pieck recovers first. “No, but really. It’s two pieces of bread-like substance with filling between them. It’s a sandwich!”

“No, no.” He waves his index finger at her. “That’s stretching the definition. A sandwich is framed by two pieces of bread. Period. Not bread-like. Also, you may have noticed the operative word ‘two’.”

“Are you guys seriously gonna keep at it?”

Pieck huffs. She picks up her fork, cuts a bite of her piece of… well, cake, and shoves it in her mouth. “You and your definitions,” she teases as she chews.

Armin sits up in his chair. “Do you want me to bring out the dictionary?”

“Please don’t,” says Jean.

With a theatrical eye-roll, Pieck tilts her head. “It’s not about the dictionary! This is language in action! Expanding on the meaning of words as needs arise.”

“So you agree it’s expanding on the meaning?”

“I’m only pointing out that dictionaries are not necessarily updated on current vernacular.”

“But no one uses the word sandwich to refer to cake!”

“Not with this attitude, they don’t.”

Thankfully, the back door bursts open, and his glorious girlfriend walks in to save him from her best friend’s deranged ramblings.

Honestly though, sometimes he thinks Pieck is just messing with him. She likes to debate him on the silliest, most inane things imaginable. After a short period of continuously getting involved in ridiculous arguments, he refused to engage her any longer, but then she started baiting him. She'd open with the most outlandish of claims and then proceed to defend it to the death. He simply had no option but to set her straight. And thus they have found themselves debating whether cake was a sandwich on the very first morning of their vacation, while Jean was still asleep and Annie out for her ritual jog.

Along with a gust of crisp wind, Annie steps inside. Her cheeks have a healthy flush to them, from the exercise or from the springtime chill or both. She’s wearing a loose top and knee-length bloomers. On her side, she’s holding something obscured by the folds of her clothes.

Armin tilts his chin up in a silent plea for a kiss. She indulges him, dropping one swift peck on the corner of his lips. Preoccupied by her closeness as he is, he hears more than sees something soft landing on the table in front of him. Annie draws back and turns around, already too busy pulling a loaf and a jar of jam out of the pantry to make her breakfast. Armin stares at her strong hands as they work on her food.

A low whistle penetrates the Annie-induced fog in his brain. It’s coming from Jean, who is glancing meaningfully down. Curious, Armin follows his gaze.

There on the table, right between his coffee and his plate, sits a small bouquet of bright yellow flowers. More than a little taken aback, Armin nudges the bundle with his pinky finger. “What’s this?” he asks Annie.

Annie’s spine stiffens noticeably. The tips of her ears are turning red. “I brought you flowers,” she murmurs while spreading butter on a slice of bread, avoiding his eyes.

He blinks. “For what?”

A tiny irritated shrug. “There has to be a reason?”

Armin is shocked speechless. He takes the flowers in hand and twists them around to examine them from both sides, as if this will reveal to him their secrets. It’s six flowers in total, he notes, chrysanthemums if his memory serves. He digs his brain for their hidden meaning. What is Annie trying to tell him? His mind provides several answers: longevity, amity, joy; but also the death of a loved one. He shakes his head, frowning. No, Annie is not well-versed in flower symbolism, that’s his brand of madness. Still, what could this mean?

While Armin is struck dumb by the bouquet, Pieck most certainly is not. She plops her elbow to the back of her chair and looks at Annie with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, come on, Annie-Honey. You can’t just show up with a bouquet,” the way she pronounces the word should be outlawed, “of all things and not share what’s the occasion!”

Annie pivots to face them. She leans against the kitchen counter, balancing her plate in one hand. “There’s no occasion,” she insists, and, before Pieck has a chance to question her further, she shoves the entire slice of jam-slathered bread in her mouth. She chews obnoxiously.

Little does she know, she’s only riling her up with her refusal to answer. Armin glances warily between his girlfriend and Pieck, but it’s Jean who speaks next.

“No occasion?” he muses, an extremely judgemental eyebrow tilt is accompanying his words. “I’m quite positive—nay certain—that gifting your significant other flowers is generally motivated by something. If not to mark an occasion, then perhaps to express some tender feelings?”

“Oh, baby,” Pieck mock-laments, “you shouldn’t be neighing like that.”

All levity bleeds out of Jean’s face. He pouts sullenly. “You and Connie should have never met.”

Pieck grins and blows him a kiss. Then, her attention zeros in on Annie. “But really, Annie, don’t be shy, is it because you loooooove him?”

Armin’s heart is hammering in his chest. He should interfere, he thinks, step in and get them to stop with their teasing. But in truth he wishes to hear Annie’s answer as much as them. This gesture… It’s so sweet, so romantic, so uncharacteristic of Annie, it makes him want to howl from happiness.

Annie is scowling. The food in her mouth is no longer filling her cheeks. Chewed and swallowed, warm in her stomach, it can’t provide an easy out any more. And Pieck is watching her like a hawk.

She sighs. “I passed by a vendor,” she says.

“And?” urges Pieck.

Annie casts a glance at him and meets his eyes. He doesn’t know what she sees in his expression—longing, embarrassment, tentative hope?—but her face softens. Her lips curve minimally in a fond smile. When she responds, it’s to him and him only: “And they reminded me of you.”

Armin gasps. The scent of pollen hits the back of his throat and he sneezes loudly. Then, he sneezes again and again and again, a proper sneezing fit. Jean is there, grabbing the flowers away from his nose. Annie is to his other side, rubbing his back with a small gentle hand. Pieck is chuckling, but her eyes hold a sympathetic warmth.

“You’ll kill him with your bouts of romance, Leonhart,” chastises Jean.

Annie’s palm on his back freezes, halting her caring petting. Her hand slips on his shoulder and then away. Oh no. Armin can’t have that.

He grips her fingers tightly before they vanish. With the other hand, he takes hold of the bouquet from Jean and brings it beneath his nostrils, taking a long showy whiff.

“No, she won’t,” he says to Jean. Then he beams up at his beautiful, considerate girlfriend, who melts at the sight of his smile. “And if she will, I’ll die a happy man.”

#asks #prompt fill #mini fic #long post #aruani #jeanpiku #armin arlert #annie leonhart #jean kirstein #pieck finger #fluff #tooth rotting fluff

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softpascalito · 1 year ago

Text

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Twentyone

Lingerie - Javi Gutierrez/F!Reader

Summary: Javi usually gets the movie memorabilia he loves so much for his birthday. This year, he gets something infinitely better.

Relationships: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

WC: 2100

Tags/Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Established Relationship, Birthday Sex, Birthday Cake, Lingerie, Kissing, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Idiots in Love, Vaginal Fingering, p in v sex, i will protect javi g with my life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

AO3 LINK

notes: first time writing for this babe but jesus christ i ADORE him. he deserves the world.

(also sorry this is late i had to stare at pic of pedro pascal at snl for roughly 5 hours this morning).

_________________________________________

The sun was barely peeking through the curtains when your alarm rang, making you roll over to stop the beeping noise of it. With a small sigh you sat up when suddenly you felt a movement next to you and a soft mumble escaped the figure that was half buried under the colorful sheets, limbs entangled with yours.

His arm reached out to try and pull you back in with a protest, wrapping around your lower stomach as you rubbed your eyes. “I have to get up, baby,” you whispered quietly into the sheets but the arm didn't release you. Instead, another noise of protest came from under the moving sheets before Javis head peeked out.

He blinked up at you, his eyes barely open as he spoke, “Stay in bed. With me.”

You smiled a bit at his demand, reaching out to place a hand in his hair and comb through the messy, long curls with your fingers. “Good morning, birthday boy,” you mumbled, taking in the sight that you would never get tired of: Waking up next to Javi. “We can cuddle tonight,” you promised softly.

“And if it's my birthday wish to just stay in bed with you all day?” He grumbled, his voice a little rougher than usual after just waking up.

“I promise it will be worth it if you let me pick up your present first, okay?” You said gently, your hand still massaging his head as he seemed to relax a little, “When I come back and that is still your birthday wish, I promise that's what we'll do.”

Another small, but softer grumble came from his throat as he nodded and you could see his eyes already beginning to close again. You leaned down, placing your lips on his head and pressing a long kiss into his hair before gently disentangling yourself from him and getting up.

The sun had fully risen by the time you were on your way back from the small town on the island, having picked up everything for Javi's birthday. A soft breeze blew around your hair as you took in the surroundings, the cliffs and forests to one side and the wide open sea to the other. A small cake box was placed on the passenger's seat, buckled in so that it wouldn't fall over. Beside it was a smaller bag in pale blue, wrapped expertly with a matching bow. You had opted for something different for Javi's birthday, something other than the usual movie memorabilia. There was a funny feeling as you imagined his possible reactions, ranging from excitement to plain disappointment. You hoped it wouldn't be the latter.

He was still in bed when you came into the room, though he was properly awake now, spread out under the covers and reading a book. You had a feeling that he'd been waiting for your return because by the time you had closed the door behind yourself, he had already sat up and put his reading material aside, watching you eagerly.

With a smile in his direction, you set down the items you were carrying to move and open the large blinds of the door that led towards the balcony, allowing a stunning view of the water below you, sparkling in the morning sun. Fresh sea air filled the room and the curtains moved softly in the breeze as you placed the tray you had brought on the bed. It wasn't a particularly large breakfast, that would no doubt follow later, but it was what you always did for Javi on his birthday and he had come to love your little tradition.

A small piece of cake for each of you as well as a bottle of champagne to share and start the day off right.

“That looks amazing, mi amor,” he hummed as he scooched over to make some more space for you. You climbed onto the bed with him, your hand immediately finding his as the other handed him a glass of the sparkling liquid and then took your own. The glasses met with a small clinking sound- and without either of you looking at them, instead focused on each other.

“Happy Birthday, Javi,” you said before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He didn't let you get away with just that, pulling you closer to kiss you properly, lips parting as you molded together so perfectly.

Eventually, you did manage to actually drink the champagne and you put your glass down as you remembered something, “Oh, hold on.”

From your pocket, you fished a box of matches and a small candle, quickly sticking it into Javi's piece of cake. He watched the way you concentrated as you lighted it, your tongue sticking out a tiny bit and it reminded him that there would be no start to a birthday he'd prefer over this.

“Go on, make a wish,” you urged, eyes darting between him and the candle.

Javi shook his head, his eyes soft, “I don't have any, I-”

“Come on, you have to have a birthday wish. Something you want,” you tried, watching the first drop of wax run down the candle.

“I have everything I want right here,” Javi whispered, his gaze fixed on you and you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying at the way he looked so soft and vulnerable and honest.

It took you a moment to find your voice again, your thumb absentmindedly running over his hand, “Then just wish that we can stay in this bed all day.”

He smirked a little at that and this time it was he who pressed the quick kiss to your lips before turning to the candle. You watched as he closed his eyes, paused for a moment and then blew, the fire dying down after just a moment.

After the cake and more kisses and caresses, you were leaning back against the headrest, Javis head in your lap as you lazily stroked his hair.

“So, when do you want your present?” You asked gently, looking down at him. He perked up a little at the mention of a present and you knew that he secretly enjoyed getting them as much as giving them.

“Can I have it now?” He asked a little sheepishly, round brown eyes looking up at you as he spoke. A small smile played around your lips as you nodded and he sat up, allowing you to move off the bed.

You returned with the soft blue bag you had picked up earlier, handing it to him before sitting down, anxious to see his reaction, “Happy Birthday.”

Javi smiled at you before looking over the bag, clearly trying to find an indication of what was inside before beginning to open the skillfully tied bow at the top. It fell away smoothly, allowing him to fully open the gift bag and his eyes widened a little as he looked inside, reaching into it to pull out a set of clothes in a soft, blue fabric that matched the color of the waves outside.

“Is that-?” He asked, looking over at you and you gave a small nod, biting your lip, “It's- I didn't know if you'd like this. It's okay if not, I can just-”

An actual growl left his throat at that as he shook his head, pushing the bag to the side and placing the fabric in your lap. “Put it on. Please. I wanna see you in it, baby,” he whispered, his tone dropping slightly and you felt an excited lurch in your chest at his words, a grin spreading over your face. Quickly, you gathered the items and hurried to the on-suite bathroom to change.

Javi was sitting at the edge of the bed when you returned. A soft gasp left his slightly opened mouth as he took in your form, his eyes wandering over your curves and soft skin. The baby blue lingerie set that decorated your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, giving him a sneaky view of your hard nipples as well as your lower region. The edges of the top were draped in more of the soft fabric that fell over your stomach as well as your back, reminding him of the way 17th century painters had imagined angels. Soft, gentle, stunningly pretty and above all, all his.

He automatically reached out towards you and you smiled a little more as you moved over to him, his hands on your back as soon as they could reach you. Javi pulled you down, bringing you onto his lap, all the while admiring your body.

“You look amazing, baby, I-” He paused for a moment, “Is this what you had to pick up this morning?” A small giggle escaped you as you nodded, “Told you it'd be worth it.” Another low noise came from Javis throat as he ran his hands up and down your sides, “Fuck, it was.”

He used his leverage on you to pull you in further, burying his face in your chest, his tongue occasionally lapping out to lick a stripe over your exposed chest. You wiggled slightly on his lap in return, the bulge in his briefs growing with each movement from you and each second that his eyes wandered over your body.

His right hand slowly wandered to your front and slipped into the thin panties, brushing past your clit before beginning to tease your entrance, his thick finger finding your wetness. You whimpered, eagerly pushing yourself against him and he chuckled at how impatient you were.

“You want that inside, pretty girl? Want my finger in your pretty pussy?” You practically clawed at him at that, nodding eagerly, your lips finding his ear to nibble on, “Please, Javi.” As he began to push inside, you added, “It's part of your present, after all.”

He smirked at that, licking your nipple through the thin fabric, “Got me the prettiest birthday present, you know that? So beautiful.” Your heart fluttered at the praise, every doubt that you'd had earlier wiped from your mind.

Javi began slowly working his finger in and out of you, setting a slow but steady rhythm and the sound of both your breathing filled the room, occasionally interrupted by a bird chirping outside and the steady rhythm of the waves below you.

As the movements got faster and you felt the care being disregarded, Javi paused, running his hand over the soft fabric, “Let me take it off you first, I don't want to ruin it.” You were already panting slightly, nudging his neck with your nose.

With slightly parted lips and blown pupils, you moved your head up so that your faces were almost touching. Then, you moved your hand down, placing the string of your panties in Javi's free hand, “It's a present. It's only half the fun if you don't rip it open.”

His expression still seemed a little doubtful so you nudged him again, “I'll buy you another one for Christmas.”

That did it. Javi lips crashed into yours as his finger left you and his hand yanked the underwear off you, a seam audibly ripping but neither of you cared. You were already fumbling with his briefs and positioned yourself above him once they were off.

You were even more impatient now, your tightness clenching around nothing without his finger and you lowered yourself onto his cock, that immediately became slick with your wetness.

Javi and you both groaned as he began to enter and his gaze searched for yours, whispering praise and words of love, something he frequently did during sex and that always made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

“You feel so wonderful, mi amor,” he whispered as he bottomed out, stroking your back as he let you adjust to the feeling of having him inside. It was another thing you would never get tired of. Waking up by his side, feeling him buried inside- it was the most glorious way to live.

“Move, baby, please,” you mumbled back and like magic, you both set the same rhythm as you began bouncing on his cock.

“This is-” he whispered, his voice thin from the pleasure, “This is the best birthday present you ever got me.” You opened your mouth to reply but he captured it in another kiss instead, only letting up when you both needed air. You took the chance, bringing your lips to his ear, “You haven't heard the best part yet.”

“You get to keep it all year round,” you whispered and he let out a gentle whimper at that, burying himself deep inside of you, fitting so perfectly between your walls, “I better.”

#javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi g x you #javi g / you #javi g / reader #javi gutierrez / reader #javi gutierrez / you #fanfic #kinktober #softpascalito #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #smut #lingerie #birthday sex #fluff #established relationship #cute

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hotcat37 · 9 months ago

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deaf!jere + 9 for the kisses? 👉🏼👈🏼

deaf! Jere my beloved of all time

9: in public

Being able to verbally ask for things really is something you can easily take for granted. Bojan is reminded of it again right now, observing the rather awkward interaction between Jere and the store clerk. They'd gotten lost looking for baking supplies in the supermarket no matter how many times they split up to look through the aisles. Jere immediately opted to go ask a store clerk and Bojan hadn't questioned it. His boyfriend actually quite often takes initiative to make contact with people in public, whether it be to order something at a restaurant or ask for directions.

And usually it isn't too difficult. Some people get kinda weird about it but most of the time strangers are able to read a message on Jere's phone without making a big deal out of it.

This guy however has been dumbly staring back and forth from Jere to his phone screen for the past minute now and it still doesn't seem like he has any clue what's happening despite the short man's efforts to add more detail to his presumably already clear text. Jere's friendly smile doesn't waver but Bojan knows him well enough by now to tell when his lover is getting uncomfortable and so he comes to the rescue with his rather limited grasp on the Finnish language.

"Where is.....baking....things?" Bojan asks, not very coherent, but confident. For whatever reason that causes the clerk's face to finally light up in recognition. He couldn't figure out Jere's very eloquently written text but he understands Bojan's botched Finnish. Alright.

Jere rolls his eyes as the employee immediately starts leading them towards the baking section. Bojan reaches out to take a soft hand in his, gently squeezing it, reassuring his boyfriend. He has half a mind to call out the guy for being a dick but he knows it's not really worth it. Besides, Bojan doesn't know enough Finnish swear words to properly insult the man. If he's gonna make a scene he wants to do it properly.

"Kiitos." The Slovene says plainly once they've been escorted to their destination. The store clerk looks quite happy with himself, walking away without sparing Jere another glance. Bojan feels quiet anger building up in his body but leaves it be for Jere's sake.

Still, he doesn't think he can ever get used to how some people will just ignore his angel without a second thought. This isn't the first time a stranger has completely discarded Jere's way of communicating despite it being literally the same as just reading a text. The audacity. Ugh. Bojan turns to where Jere is scooping up the items they were looking for. The deaf Finn beams that sharp toothed smile of his when he catches the brunette staring and Bojan's eyes soften. How can one possibly ignore such a sweet face? It seems impossible to him.

You see something you like?👀😏💚

Bojan grins wide in response. "Yeah."

And standing there, in the middle of the grocery store, Bojan's heart overflows with love for this man. He doesn't even register the fellow shoppers walking all around them. His eyes are always drawn to Jere like a magnetic force. And his lips too, because Bojan doesn't think twice about leaning in to press a kiss against Jere's forehead. It earns him a quiet breathy laugh, the familiar sound only further expanding his full heart. Manicured fingers tap away at the phone screen and the Slovene reluctantly shifts his gaze to read the message.

My Bojan so cute ☺ I give you cake now? 😋😈

"Man, shut up!" Bojan playfully pushes at Jere for the innuendo before changing his mind and pulling the older man close again. "At least wait until we're back home, you perv."

#käärijä #bojan cvjetićanin #Bojere #anon ask #deaf! Jere #kiss game #deaf! Bojere my darlings

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crimson-calligraphyx · 1 year ago

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Noah

I felt depleted upon waking up when I felt that the bed sheets were cool, absent of Olivia to warm them for the umpteenth time. She would be sound asleep when I crawled into bed each night, and I started to appreciate her warmth more and more by wrapping myself around her, knowing I'd wake up to an empty bed. It's become a pattern that I didn't enjoy by any means, missing the way she would give me a sheepish smile and kiss me good morning, her eyes glimmering under the morning sun.

Sighing, I pushed myself out of bed to start the day, stretching before I made my way to the kitchen. Just like I had expected, Liv was not home, most likely already down at the bakery for the day. I hated the foolish quarrels we've been having as of late, ending with one or both of us parting ways in frustration. I felt like no matter what I did, how hard I tried to put a smile on her face, it just wasn't enough.

I frowned when I reached the kitchen island, the lack of a good morning note dampening my mood even further. Before this distancing began, she would always leave me a message if she left before I had woken up. It was like she didn't want anything to do with me, and that was killing me.

Instead of making breakfast at home, I opted to head to the bakery, hoping the surprise visit would alleviate some of the tension. When I made my way through the door of the bakery, I immediately spotted her, working away at decorating her pastries for the day. I smiled as I admired her—the soft smile gracing her lips while surely humming to herself, the smudge of red icing on her cheek, vibrant against her porcelain skin, her curls neatly tucked into a bun, save for a few stray hairs that perfectly framed her face.

"Hey, love," I greet her gently, folding my arms on top of the glass case and resting my chin on them. She finishes with the cupcake she was currently decorating before bringing her attention to me. My heart swelled when the smile on her face actually grew, seeming happy to see me. "Hey. What are you doing here?" she asks, placing the piping bag on the counter and wipes her hands clean on her apron. I shrug playfully, "Just thought I'd start my day by seeing my beautiful wife do what she does best. Maybe eat a muffin or two, grab an iced chai."

She chuckles before grabbing a sheet of wax paper and bends down to observe the muffins, surely picking the one with the most streusel on top. She picks up the coffee cake, handing it to me over the glass. "Go sit, I'll join you," she says and turns to prepare me the latte.

Moments later, she joins me at the table that I picked, two drinks sitting a tray and her own muffin in hand. I thanked her after taking a sip and she smiled at me before tasting her own beverage. We sat in silence while we both picked at our muffin tops, and I took the time to admire her—especially her eyes, my favorite shade of blue glimmering in front of me.

I licked my thumb and swiped it over the icing she had on her cheek, and she giggles, putting her hand up while turning her face away from me. "What are you doing, ya goof?" I snickered, retracting my hand, "You had frosting on your face." "Oh, my God," she gasps, eyes growing wide with realization, "did I really?" I laughed and nodded my head. "How embarrassing," she mumbles. "It looked good on you," I winked, causing her to roll her eyes with a smirk.

I reached out and took her hand in mine, running my thumb over her knuckles. I relished how smooth her skin felt as she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "How's your morning been?" I ask, still smoothing my thumb over her hand. "Good. It's been slow so far today; gave me some time to do some extra decorating," she lets out a breathy laugh. "How about yours?" I grin, "Better now that I got to see you." Her smile falters slightly as she averts her eyes to our adjoined hands. Her grasp loosens, and I feel my heart sink because of it. "What's wrong, love?" I whispered.

She remained silent, and my mind immediately goes back to the night of our anniversary and how disappointed she was in me. The pain behind her reddened and tear-filled eyes, the anguish in her voice as she scolded me, and the look of uncertainty when I had asked if she was tired of me lives rent free in my head. I fucked up big time, and it was very evident from her behavior that I hurt her. I wasn't sure if she would ever forgive me, and that killed me.

She shakes her head and brings her gaze back to mine, plastering a smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. "Nothing, I'm just tired, is all." My stomach churns, my heart plummeting hearing her say she was tired again. "I'm sorry, Liv. Why don't you close up early today and get some rest?” I say as I squeeze her hand, even though I knew that wasn't the ‘tired’ she was talking about. “We can watch a movie, or I could cook you dinner.” She shrugs, "I guess I could. I've got two employees coming in at noon, they can close shop for me." "Great," I flash her a smile, running my thumb over her knuckles again. "It's a date." She gives me a half-assed smile, and nods. "It's a date."

"I really don't know what to do, Nick. And I'm fucking scared," I confided in my best friend, hoping he would be able to give me some sort of advice. "She's been so distant ever since our anniversary, a-and I know I fucked up," I sighed harshly, resting my elbows on my thighs and shaking my head in my hands. "Just give her time, man. She'll come around," he tries, plopping down on the couch next to me.

I look over at him as he cracks open a beer and settles into the cushions. I shake my head 'no' at him; he didn't understand the extent of how distant she's been and how badly the guilt was eating me alive.

"No, Nick. She...she said she was tired." He scrunches his face, shaking his head lightly in dismissal. "Okay, and? So, she's tired from working so many hours at the bakery, she just needs to rest for a little while." I close my eyes and sigh, the image of her pained face flashing behind my eyelids. "I asked her if she was tired of me," I start, my heart making its way into my throat as the apprehension of the situation begins to overwhelm me. "She...she didn't answer me. She just looked at me with such...anguish, such uncertainty, and then she shut the door.” My eyes start to burn with tears; I rub my eyes with my thumb and index finger to clear them away.

“Shit,” Nick says under his breath, and I feel the couch shift as he sits up. “And she’s been distant since then?” I nod. “Like…how distant?” I let out a deep breath and sit up straight. “I barely see her during the day. She’s always asleep when I come to bed after working on the album, and when I wake up, she’s not there. Sometimes she’s not even home.” My voice cracks on the last sentence; my throat was burning as I tried not to let out a cry in front of him.

He claps his hands on his legs and lets out a sigh before standing, “I know this might suck, but you gotta take some time away from the studio and be with her.” His voice grows quiet as he makes his way to the kitchen. “And I mean with her.” I hear him crack open a can, his voice funneling back in at normal volume as he rejoins me. “Like do shit with her, for her.” I accepted the beer he offers me with a nod. “I offered to cook her dinner and watch a movie tonight.” “That’s a start! I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” he says with a tiny grin. “What movie are you going with?”

I take a swig of my beer, pondering it for a moment. “Well, Halloween is right around the corner, and she loves those movies, so…” I shrugged. He practically slams his drink onto the coffee table, abruptly standing and grabbing his keys. “Oh, then I’ve got just the thing for you,” he tells me, waving his arm for me to follow as he makes his way out the front door.

A couple hours later, the living room was decked out in all things Halloween—movie and holiday. I’m not one to typically decorate, but with the help of Nick, it looked great, and I knew that Liv would love it.

His roommate just so happened to have a few things Michael Myers that he was willing to let us borrow for the evening. A throw blanket of the original poster, a large plush pillow in the shape of Michael, and a few Funko Pop figurines just for some added decoration. I dug out the string lights that Liv had bought last year and hung them behind the TV, setting the living room ablaze in orange. To top it all off, I stretched cobwebs across the entirety of the entertainment center, adorned with plastic spiders with glowing eyes.

I thanked Nick for all of his help before he left, leaving me to lay out the bowl of Halloween candy and finish making the popcorn just as Olivia made it through the door. I smirked to myself when I heard her gasp and call out my name, followed by the door shutting.

I make my way into the living room, popcorn in hand, seeing her standing there with a huge smile on her face. My body warms at the sight, and I couldn’t help but mirror her expression—it felt so good to see that smile again.

She turns towards me after placing her bag down, “What is all this?” I shrugged and closed the gap between us, “I wanted to watch a movie with you, that’s all.” She threw herself at me, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Easy, easy,” I laughed, having her head bump the bottom of the bowl and nearly spilling it all over the floor. She mumbles ‘sorry’ into my shirt, followed by a giggle. I wrapped my free arm around her, and I kissed the top of her head, breathing in the aroma of her coconut scented shampoo. The scent paired with the feeling of her arms around me started to ease every little bit of apprehension that I had.

“Let’s go sit,” I say as I pulled away from her gently, cocking my head in the direction of the couch. She looks up at me, and I see that her eyes are glossed over with what I assumed, or at least hoped, were tears of joy. “Okay,” she says, standing on her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek before she scurries off to the couch.

I chuckled at her excitement, following her. She made herself comfortable by throwing the blanket over herself and held it up for me to settle in with her. I set the popcorn on the table and grabbed the remote before taking a seat, and she immediately cuddled up to me, draping her arm across my torso. I pressed ‘play’ on the remote and wrapped my arm around her, holding her close to me. She nuzzles her face against my chest, and I let out a sigh of relief from her affection—God did I fucking miss this.

I moved my hand to her head and tried my best to delicately take her hair tie out so that I could run my hand through her locks of mahogany. She hums lightly as I knead my fingers into the base of her skull, and I glance down at her to see that her eyes were shut with a satisfied curl of her lips. “Thank you for this,” she mumbles. I take a strand of her hair, rolling it between my fingers and admiring how soft it felt. “No need to thank me, Liv. I just want you to get the rest you deserve since you’ve been working so many hours.”

She picks her head up from my chest, her eyes glimmering under the orange glow in the room as she gazed at me with such innocence. Her cheek still had some remanence of the frosting from earlier, making me chuckle and bring my thumb to her face again. She laughs as I try once again to rub it off; my heart flutters hearing her laughter and seeing the crinkle in her nose that I adored so much when she did.

I cup her face and guide her towards me as she starts to sit up, capturing her lips with mine. I relished the way our mouths synced together, the way I could feel her smiling against my lips, the way she pushed herself closer to me. It had been far too long since we’ve been affectionate towards each other, it was like I was kissing her for the first time all over again with the way my body buzzed and the way my heart pounded.

We shift, and I’m lying on top of her with her leg settling over my hip. I break away from the kiss, resting my forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb against the apple of her cheek. “I know, and I’m sorry,” she says back to me, guilt shining in her eyes. “I just…I don’t know what I was thinking,” she huffs out a saddened laugh, her breath caressing me. I catch a hint of anise on her breath and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, the rest of my body freezing.

“Liv, have you been drinking?”

Chapter 4

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #romance #sequel

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reigningqueenofwords · 6 months ago

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Dreams

Pairing: Steve x Reader Word count: 908 Warnings: Touch of smut

Read on AO3

Steve sat up, breathing heavily. His heart was pounding in his chest. Wet dreams weren’t something that happened to him anymore. Hell, the last one he could remember having was pre-serum! Licking his lips, he flopped back on his pillow, trying to calm down before pushing his bedding back to get himself cleaned up. His eyes went to the clock. His alarm would be going off in ten minutes anyway.

“Stevie…” He could hear you moans, even now. He just wanted to forget this dream ever happened. You weren’t interested in him, and now he wouldn’t be able to look at you without thinking of that. “Stevie!” He heard again. “Steve!” Finally, he snapped out of his thoughts as you jogged up to him.

He swallowed, trying not to look at you in your sports bra and leggings. “Morning.” He muttered, his mind trying to wander.

“I’m heading to the training room. Wanna come?” You asked sweetly.

“Stevie, fuck.” You gripped his hair, arching your back. “I’m gonna-” Your voice was cut off by a moan.

“Steve?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

He shook his head. “I gotta go.” He said before rushing off, leaving you standing there, very confused. Had you done something?

Sitting at the table, you were zone out. You’d finished your actual lunch, and had opted for a slice of cake for a treat. You licked your fork clean before taking the next bite.

Steve had walked in as your tongue came out to lick the fork, making him twitch in his pants. Was the universe against him that day?!

He looked down at you as you bobbed on his cock. Your eyes met his, making him groan. “You’re so good at that, doll.” He managed.

Shaking his head, he turned on his heels. He just couldn’t be near you. That was very, very clear. Which was going to be difficult when you lived together, and were friends.

Sam opened his door to see you standing there, clearly upset. “Is Steve mad at me?” You asked sadly.

He furrowed his brows. “Why would he be mad at you?” He asked, confused.

“I don’t know!” You whined. “The other day I asked him to workout with me. Usually he will. He said he had to go, and walked away. I’ve barely seen him since, and I can’t even get him to look at me.” You shrugged. “I just want my friend back.”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Go relax, and I’ll see what’s going on.” He told you, walking out of his room, shutting his door behind you.

You gave him a sad smile. “Thanks. I’ll be in my room.” You told him, heading in that direction.

He watched you go, hands on his hips. Everyone saw it but the two of you. You liked each other- probably loved- and neither seemed to realize it. And now this.

Sam found Steve where he could always find him when something was on his mind- with a punching bag. “Steve.” He said, approaching him.

“Yeah?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the bag as he slammed his fist into it again.

“Why are you avoiding Y/N?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He noticed how Steve’s form faltered for a split second, a look he couldn’t place washing over his features.

Steve’s hips rolled against your backside. You were on your stomach, his chest pressed against your back, his arms caging you in. You whimpered his name, turning him on even more.

“Because.” He managed. “Doesn’t matter.” He muttered, not wanting to admit he had a wet dream like some teenager.

Sam raised an eyebrow, moving to stop the bag from swinging back to Steve. “That’s why she showed up at my door nearly in tears thinking your mad at her?” He asked. “Said you won’t even look at her. Which is weird when you’re in love with her.” When Steve’s jaw twitched, his cheeks tinting pink, he smirked. “What, afraid you’re gonna slip up and tell her?” He teased, hoping to urge Steve in that direction. “She wants you, too, man.”

Steve finally looked at Sam. “What?”

“She loves you, too, and right now, she’s really upset. She’s in her room. Stay here, or go to her.” He let the bag go before leaving Steve with his thoughts.

“Come in!” You called when you heard a knock on your door. You assumed it was Sam. You were lying on the floor, arm over your eyes.

“Why are you on the floor?” Came Steve’s voice from above you.

You moved your arm and stared up at him. “The cool floor feels good.” You told him. “Talking to me now?” You asked. “What did I do?!”

He sighed, sitting next to you on the floor. “Nothing. It was all me.” He ran a hand through his hair. Sam’s words were running through his head about you loving him. He licked his lips, and his chest ached.

Moving so that you were sitting up, you watched him. “What’s going on, Stevie?” You asked softly.

Instead of answering you, his hand cupped your jaw and he kissed you. He half expected for you to shove him off, and tell him to get out. Instead, you paused for a moment before melting into the kiss. Your hand moved to his hair, deepening it. Pulling away slightly, he smiled. “Doesn’t matter.” He hoped that dream would be reality soon.

#steve x reader #steve x reader drabble

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justanotherstarlightmonger · 2 years ago

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Piece of peace ch 10

Homophobia is where you draw the line?

Summary: Park Jimin and Min Yoongi had forgone the city life months ago, opting to settle into their dream cottage in the woods born of dreams and furnished with love. And it was always going to be them. Until the biggest thunderstorm of the year carried an unexpected guest to their door smack dab in the middle of them living their isolated dream

Pairing: Yoongi x Jimin, Yoongi x Jimin x reader

Word count: 2.2 k words

Warnings: Mentions of drugging, Jiminie might have caused someone to trip, Well deserved sexy, angry yoonmin, homophobic slur.

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Taglist: @themochiverse and my yoonmin anon.

Consider buying me a coffee to keep my motivation flowing ^_^

A/n: How absolutely gorgeous is the mood strip for this chapter? 😚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner concluded happily. By the time you finished the last spoonful of the tres leches cake slice you had ordered, your tummy was happily full and the men in front of you were also looking exceptionally more handsome than they had when the night had started.

Impossible, I know. But there was something about loose ties and open collars, and especially sleeves rolled up that was ridiculously attractive to you. And Min Yoongi sitting right across from you, sported all three of those right now.

Jimin finished his third glass of wine and leaned back in his chair, smiling fondly at you before he cleared his throat, "The poor guy's been waiting long enough, y/n. Wanna go say hi now?"

You thought about it, and then nodded slowly. "But will one of you walk with me?" You asked, almost embarrassed about asking that of them. Almost, because Yoongi's warm reassuring gaze wouldn't let you actually be embarrassed of anything for too long.

"Of course!" And so, with Park Jimin's reassuring arm under your hand, you slowly walked to the man who had sent you that note.

He sat relaxed in his booth, his beige waistcoat and matching trousers sitting snug on his cream colored dress shirt, the sleeves of which he had folded back. His hair, curly and slicked back were neat and his eyes were bright and attentive as he looked up at you and offered you a lopsided smile.

He was gorgeous, all things considered.

How did this town have so many beautiful men?

"Hi!" You smiled back at him. "I'm y/n.”

“Hello y/n,” he rose just as you extended his hand out to him to shake. What you weren’t expecting was for him to simply take it and place a chaste kiss on the back. Your eyes widened, mirroring Jimin’s as he stared at the new man, shocked.

You cleared your throat, snapping Jimin’s attention back to you.

“I’m Taehyung.” the handsome man supplied.

“Hello, Taehyung.” you nodded, then looked to Jimin. “I think I’ll be okay…”

Jimin was swift to understand the gentle dismissal and nodded. “We’ll be nearby if you need anything.”

“Actually,” Taehyung said, “I wanted to take her to the bar nearby.”

Jimin looked at you to gauge your reaction to this new news. “Do you feel like drinking some more?”

You shrugged, a little thrum of excitement at the aspect of exploring more parts of the town on your own, “I wouldn’t mind.” you nodded.

In a swift flick of his hand, Jimin took out his cellphone, fixed something and handed it to you. “I’ve removed the password. Keep it and call Yoongi when you want us to pick you up then. Have fun.”

There was nothing but sweet reassurance and calm in his crinkled eye smile and you felt yourself melt a bit more for him even as Taehyung took your hand and signaled the waiter to bring him his bill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drinking was fine. Dancing was a whole nother thing. You had no rhythm and you knew that. But when soft jazz played through the speakers as the patrons thinned out, and Taehyung’s eyes glazed over in a sweet melancholy sort of way, you convinced yourself that it wouldn’t be that hard.

It was hard.

To say the least. But with Taehyung leading, it wasn’t the worst thing.

And a few moves that you found easy, he made sure he repeated them so you’d feel more comfortable.

And when the song concluded, Taehyung cupped your face and told you that you looked flushed. You touched your cheeks, that were definitely a bit too warm. Fanning yourself, you looked around just as the door opened and Yoongi and Jimin walked in.

—------

Outside, 10 minutes earlier,

"Oh for fuck's sake Yoongi, I was so cool when I told her to call us when she wanted to be picked up. Now you wanna stalk her?! "

"Hush! I'm not stalking her, be quiet! I'm just concerned for her. What if something bad happens?"

"He seemed like a decent enough guy," Jimin whined, still letting his husband drag him to the jazz bar where you had gone with the other guy.

"He might be but would it hurt to check baby?" Yoongi whirled around to face the love of his life and blinked.

Jimin sighed. He couldn't say no to Yoongi. That was just one thing he couldn't do.

And so Jimin loosened his top button and let his arm be dragged closer. That was until he pulled Yoongi back, the older's eyes wide in question.

"Can we atleast walk in looking cool? Or we'll embarass her." Jimin ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh okay… fair point" Yoongi thought about something then reached up and ruffled his own hair, the length of them falling messily around his forehead, his curls shining through. He then undid his top button to let the shining chain around his neck be visible. In the process he let his tie unwrap on either sides of his collar and when he was satisfied with his handiwork, he looked at his husband to see the younger's eyes lidded in that seductive stare of his.

"You're so hot." Jimin mumbled, half to himself. Yoongi's pale cheeks flushed with color as he took it upon himself to do almost the same to Jimin.

—------

Your steps faltered.

Had these two made out before coming in here? Yoongi's longer curly hair was rumpled and messy in the sexiest way possible and Jimin's goddamn chest was on display.

If you had felt your cheeks were warm before, they were practically radiating heat at this point. The rush of blood was something you felt right down to your tippy toes and you shivered. At the same time there was a welcome contentment in your heart as both their gazes fell on you for the smallest moments, softening and then flitting away, as they made their way to the bar.

They were here to check up on you. And instead of the usual disgusting nausea you felt at the idea of being kept tabs on, there was nothing but gratitude in your heart.

Gratitude for them, simply existing. For the mere fact that there was kindness so profound somewhere in the murk of fate that had been written for you.

That was when you realized that beyond the lump of emotions in your throat, the world still moved on and Taehyung had handed you your glass again and was saying something.

The butterflies didn't let you think clearly as you simply said, "I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be back okay?" to Taehyung and made your way past the bar to the restroom.

When you realized you still had your drink in hand, you were more than halfway there and turning back would make you seem drunk. And you still felt Yoongi and Jimin's eyes on you occasionally.

Plus, the bar was relatively empty, so if you left your drink here on the bar, it'd be fine for a few minutes right?

Right.

What you missed was the fact that Yoongi was softly whispering something into Jimin's ear and the latter was blushing aggressively. And that the two of them weren't watching you as thoroughly as you thought.

In fact, they'd settled into being regular patrons, enjoying their own time in your vicinity just in case.

There was, although still, a gaze on you. From right next to the door of the bar, from a booth close to the entrance.

And the gaze was lingering way too long on the way your dress hugged your waist and your neckline showed a bit of cleavage.

As you left your drink unattended, there was a shady figure that slid from the corner's darkness and casually made his way over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a split second in Yoongi’s peripheral vision. A split second where he looked just an inch to the left and noticed that a glass sat unattended on the countertop and someone was standing at a suspicious distance to it. It didn’t take him long to connect that you had been there moments ago, and as his casual searching gaze ran over the bar and saw you weren’t to be seen. And just in time, as Jimin tilted his head to look into his eyes again, ears still red from the naughty things he had been whispering in the younger’s ears just now, he saw the same stranger tip something into the drink.

Your drink.

Yoongi shot up, blind rage seizing his body, all other thoughts shrinking away into the background. It took Jimin too long to realize his husband was striding over to someone, fists clenched.

The next thing both Jimin and Taehyung knew, Yoongi had grabbed the spiked drink and poured it all over the intruding man’s head.

“What the fuck?!” the man bellowed.

But there was ice in Yoongi’s eyes.

Jimin’s heart thudded. It had been ages since he’d seen Yoongi this cold, this angry at someone.

“I should have forced it down your throat and left you out in the streets instead, you disgusting sewer rat.” Yoongi’s face was a mask of granite, and his words were sulfurous flames.

Just then, you stepped out of the washroom, not registering what was happening a few feet away and eyes looking for Taehyung. Recognizing your searching gaze, Taehyung made a move to come to your side, clearly very disturbed by what he’d only just realized had happened.

But Jimin was having none of that.

Jimin had also had the nauseating realization that someone had spiked your drink right under his nose. There were three men inside this tiny bar that were supposed to be looking out for you. And all it had taken was a moment of looking away and something disastrous could have happened. So he stood in front of Taehyung. This night was over, he decided.

“And if Yoongi hadn’t spotted it? You would’ve let her get drugged.” Jimin summoned a tone to match his lover’s and they both stood, facing the other two men, eyes identical burning chasms of anger and warning, effective enough to render the other full grown man to stand still in compliance.

Cold, heavy dread settled into your stomach.

Someone wanted to… drug you?

To do what, you could only imagine.

A shiver went through you just as the initial breathlessness gave way to burning in your eyes as your vision blurred with tears. You clenched your hands at your sides, willing them to not tremble and your voice to not break. Not here.

“Jimin, I want to go home.” you said softly, unfortunately noting the way your voice came out shaky. It couldn’t be helped, you were hanging on by a thread just now.

Your pleading eyes met Jimin’s obsidian rage, and you swore there was still warmth and safety in them. Enough to have you stepping to his side.

His arm came around your waist as second nature. And you took the welcome respite of his shielded side when you looked at Taehyung. “Thank you for the evening, I had fun.”

Taehyung tried a weak smile and was about to say something when the man behind pushed Yoongi to the side in an attempt to get away from that stare made of glacial ice that still held him in place.

You felt Jimin shift and next thing, the man was on the floor and Jimin was tucking his leg back in line after tripping the perpetrator. Yoongi smirked.

“Honestly, you’re doing all the worst things tonight. Drugging my sunflower’s drink and shoving my husband.” Jimin leaned down to pinch the other man’s cheek, clearly painfully if the grimace was anything to go by. “Don’t piss me off anymore and apologize to both of them.”

“Fuck off you narcissistic faggot.” the man spat.

Taehyung was there in the next moment, a resounding slap echoing around the place.

“What?” Yoongi came forward to ease open and hold your still clenched hand, “Homophobia is where you draw the line?” he asked Taehyung, a teasing tilt to his voice.

Taehyung’s eyes widened as he recognized what was said and a shaky laugh came forth. “I’m genuinely sorry y/n. I’ll take this bastard to the police station. Go home. I’m really sorry.”

You nodded mutely.

“I’m sure she had fun.” Jimin patted the taller guy’s shoulder sympathetically, and you nodded again.

“Let’s go?” Yoongi asked you, squeezing your hand tightly to keep it from shaking.

A third nod from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tears finally came when you leaned against their car and let the realization hit you full force.

And as you silently sobbed, simply out of fear of what could have happened, for the first time ever, you had not one but two shoulders to cry on, not one, but two chests to shrink into and not one, but two pairs of hands to rub your back and let you let it all out.

“He didn’t even stand a chance y/n, you were safe. You still are. Let’s get you home hm?” Yoongi reassured you again, your eyes were still red and puffy.

“I don’t even have a home.” you mumbled, despair settled into your bones. If that was a taste of what waited for you outside the cottage’s forest sanctuary, you weren’t sure you would make it very far.

“Don’t be silly. Home is where Chimmy is.” Yoongi smiled at you.

The silly statement made you laugh a watery laugh. Until you realized Chimmy was what he called his lover too.

#yoonmin smut #yoonmin fic #yoonmin fanfic #yoonmin fluff #yoongi x reader #jiminx reader #Taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff

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starry-skies-116 · 1 year ago

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Personality Facts +More- Samuel Lee Witwicky (AU):

Introverted Pisces INFJ, what more can I say?

Autism, hyperphantasia, alexithymia.

The type of person to drink tea in the morning, also the type of person to prefer picnics on a spring day when the weather hits JUST right-

Also, Samuel’s def the type of person to love white chocolate sm. It’s one of his safe foods. One of his other preferred safe foods are those sour lychee candies/gummies. He actually has a whole list, in fact: among them include mac n cheese, specific sandwiches he buys from the deli, cake, fried rice, mooncakes, pancakes, bread with sprinkles and butter, REALLY well-made hot chocolate, home-cooked hotpot, potstickers, ramen, boba, california rolls, etc. Basically anything that’s warm and comforting.

He does like to eat ice cream, though- but every time he, Mikaela and Heidi go to get some he literally orders the same flavor and toppings every time (god me too).

Stomps on crunchy leaves in autumn when he thinks nobody’s looking 😗

Has way too many house plants that his mother always lets die. He never figures out why they always seemingly revive and regain their vitality near his presence until later events.

Has two or three plushies, one of which he sleeps with (and then there’s Heidi with a whole ass army of them-)

Loves to stargaze at the night sky, daydreaming about the life beyond there and fantasizing/planning obsessively over how his interactions with them will go if he were the one to make first contact (don’t tell him any spoilers now shhshshshhssh-)

Uses lots of emoticons when texting, especially ones like ‘:)’ ‘:3’ ‘:D’ ‘:(‘ and ‘<3’

Perceived as a cat person because of how mellow, non-confrontational and demure he acts, actually loves all animals (drawn to dogs to put some energy in his life because mans fr mimics behaviors similar to a cat sometimes sssshhhhh ♥️)

Typos/spelling errors frustrate him immensely, though he does his best not to show it (it doesn’t work lmao)

Mikaela and Heidi are his next-door neighbors, as well as his friends since childhood: they met when they were all five. Their friendship began to develop slowly due to many other factors in their life, but as they grew older they began to have the opportunities to spend more time together. The events of them crossing their own fates with that of the Autobots only served to make them further inseparable and strengthen their bonds.

They literally evolve from average supportive friendship still blooming awkwardly to ‘THIS IS MY BEST BITCH. WE ARE ONE UNIT. WE RIDE OR DIE.'

Sam primarily holds the role of the ‘default brain cell holder’ in the group. In other words, he holds the brain cell that they all share.

He’s also the shortest in the friend group, even though he’s average height and the height difference is in literal centimeters to the point where it’s barely noticeable (he’s 5’3/160 cm, Mikaela is 5’6/167 cm, and Heidi is 5’4/162.6 cm)

Elusive, enigmatic, secretive and reserved. Has all the traits of a leader and is decisive, despite being rather cautious and always opting for a peaceful solution. Strives to be kinder and wiser every day, so he can finally understand and truly connect with others. Prefers to keep things to himself- always shrewd and observant around people. Exceptionally prodigious beyond his years, master strategist, scientist and leader. He’s used to learning from his mistakes and making the best of bad situations, so he often denies any kind of pain he’s in no matter how severe it is.

That, or he literally does not recognize his pain at all. It takes him at least three to five business days at minimum for him to figure out his feelings and needs if those said sensations prolong for an extended period of time. If intense emotions flare up and then vanish just a moment after, it’ll fly right underneath his identification radar.

He’s sometimes prone to dissociative episodes to escape situations that remind him of trauma. Even with the AllSpark’s/Primus’s memories, anything that remotely triggers the traumatic parts of them causes him to slip into either a meltdown or a dissociative episode because of the emotions he feels and associates with them. Even when the memories are not Samuel’s… they still mean so much to him for no reason at all.

He spent his elementary and middle school years being homeschooled, and then the first time he’s ever been enrolled in public school was his Freshman Year.

His most exceptional traits are his curiosity, his compassion, and the sheer amount of effort he puts into trying to understand and communicate with others purely out of his kindness and care for people.

Samuel is very patient- however, that patience is born out of passivity. His lack of experience in social situations with those other than his friends, as well as a period in that time of bullying and ostracization, made him afraid to stick up for himself and to state his boundaries. When he came out to his parents and asked to transition on his thirteenth birthday, he was genuinely so scared that he was about to pass out.

As a result of his lack of socializing, he has a somewhat poor grasp of social interaction. His limited emotional expression and composed, impartial demeanor comes off as a bit eccentric and distant. Due to this, he admits to needing to study human emotions and ‘regular’ human interaction more. (autistic mood)

Sam loves to make either mental or physical note of things in his head that he deems of interest. Often, surprisingly they are odd but useful details that he somehow finds a way to utilize to his advantage.

Detests conflict, and always tries to negotiate and help people via kindness and not throwing hands. Despite the love he has and gives, he doesn’t really believe that he can ever protect anyone- not in a way that makes a difference. At the end of the day, all he wants is for people to get along.

Very observant of his surroundings- too observant. He jokingly refers to it as ‘gathering intelligence’, which isn’t too far off. Sensory issues essentially force him to pay attention to each and every little detail- but Samuel always insists that it’s fine, because ‘he’s used to it’ (shit explanation my guy-)

His favorite color changes from week to week- oftentimes it’s a whole color palette instead of just one color.

His camera roll isn’t really what you’d expect from someone as quiet and reserved as him: it’s full of cursed images, memes, stimboards, selfies of important moments with his friends, pictures of school notes and his workplace environment, and pictures of his dog.

He comes from a relatively wealthy family, but from the part-time jobs that he takes, he saves up money to buy more books, as well as anything that captivates him/immediately takes his interest hostage upon first glance (like I’m not kidding, it’s legit on-sight)

Whenever he’s captivated or genuinely, truly interested or enamored with something, he reacts like a cat in response to seeing shiny things. His eyes widen and get brighter, and his pupils dilate. He does barely noticeable stims (such as fiddling with his bracelet or jade pendant), and he leans closer, shuffling his feet to approach closer and closer without even realizing it.

He loves finding interesting rocks/geodes on occasion, and secretly making DIY-at-home jewelry at his part-time mechanic job with them and the equipment at his workbench. To get away with it, he arrives early, before his shift begins. He then shares the product with those he makes (whenever he isn’t burnt out): it’s his love language, finding cool rocks and making them into ‘socially acceptable’ gifts because he fears rejection sm 💔

Literally a sci-fi nerd. Gushes over shit like Star Wars and Star Trek and all that: has written novels and drawn fan art before, and basically died inside when Mikaela and Heidi discovered his stash in the closet when he was ten (bullied for his interests because other people can be assholes sometimes). He thought they both would leave him and never want to associate with him again, turns out they spent the next hour squealing over their blorbos, writing up headcanons/theories, and finding makeshift tools to cosplay characters.

Can’t relax his mind to save his life, honestly. There’s always a bottomless pit in his mind of ‘you are not doing enough, do enough so you can relax’ but it’s never enough. Whenever he’s restless, he fiddles with his clay bead bracelet or his jade pendant so that he doesn’t let his mind wander or race to places he doesn’t want it to go.

Low self-esteem, beats himself up for every mishap and mistake- (RSD guys, it sucks major ass-). Still has the occasional intrusive thought that nobody actually loves him, they just tolerate/ ‘put up with’ him, due to his childhood of being somewhat sheltered and socially ostracized by literally every kid except for his only two friends.

Even when he deadass has not only two friends, but a federal agent, the lead researcher of N.E.S.T, and a WHOLE GIANT FCKIN ROBOT ALIEN ARMY ready to straight commit WAR-CRIMES FRESH FROM THE OVEN FOR HIM at a MOMENT’S notice-

Dances as a hobby, loves to sketch scenery. He visits the city’s theater every other Saturday to greet and play with the kids living around that area who also come to visit. Community and connection is important to him, since he was deprived of several life experiences in his childhood.

As smart as he is, he desires nothing more than to learn with hands-on experience. He’s spent the entirety of his sheltered upbringing learning from books.

Literal GOD in the kitchen. He spent his entire childhood being somewhat sheltered, so he’s developed quite the pantheon of hobbies that he revolves his day around in his pastime. Baking sweets for others particularly makes him happy.

Living in symbiosis with the AllSpark embedded in your literal heart is… an experience, to say the least. Nevertheless, he finds a way to navigate the experience with the help of his family and friends.

Has a brotherly relationship with Bumblebee and it’s seriously one of the most wholesome things ever. Like seriously, when he called Bumblebee “gēge” on accident (“older/big brother” in Chinese), Bro just… had to physically resist the urge to straight up curl into a fetal position on the floor and cry pure joy. Mans was straight grinning from pure elation from one side of his visor to the other once he used his translators and realized what it meant-

Literally, Autobots like Ratchet and Optimus and Ironhide, etc etc… they will literally take ONE look at this guy watching the beat of a butterfly’s wings or something and immediately go: “mmmm yes he is very much son-shaped”

He can’t really read tone or social cues, ESPECIALLY when it comes to being directed at him. Whenever Jazz is being sarcastic or makes jokes that he can’t recognize the tone of, Samuel becomes so genuinely confused. And speaking of that, one of his habits when he’s confused and/or straining his mind to try and understand something, is to tilt his head and cross his arms with a finger raised to his lips to tap against it. Once again, it’s one of his stims that pops up when he’s trying really hard to discern an answer, or a proper way to navigate an unfamiliar situation with little clues.

#transformers #transformers au #transformers reboot au #concept stuff #au facts #sam witwicky #samuel lee witwicky #he is an icon #we stan

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