#i am hands down for this by far his best kissing scene

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage

Synopsis: Where you and Minghao parents had this grand scheme to merge their companies by marrying you off, thinking it'd be a brilliant business move. Determined to stake your claim and keep your marriage intact, your make a bold move during a business party— planting a lipstick-stained kiss on Minghao's lips and yanking him by his tie, leaving no doubt that he's yours and yours alone.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Smut, throat fucking, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex, public make out, jealous kiss, angst, forced marriage, mentions of diets.

You're standing there in this fancy white dress, all sparkly and shiny, making your way down the aisle to where Minghao's waiting. He's looking all sharp in his suit, with his hair on point and a little smirk on his face. But as you're walking towards him, you can't help but remember the last time you two really talked was at some boring company event.

Now here you are, about to say your vows like you actually mean them. But deep down, you know it's all just a bunch of lies. You and Minghao both know it. It's all for show, to make your parents' company look good. And the worst part is, everyone at this big fancy wedding knows it too.

The party's huge, like a wedding and a business conference all mashed together. People you've never seen before are milling around, probably part of some shady business deal your parents cooked up. It's like this whole thing isn't even about love or unity anymore. It's just one big networking event disguised as a wedding.

But you go through the motions anyway, smiling and nodding like everything's perfect. You exchange vows that are as fake as the smiles plastered on both of your faces. And as the night goes on, you can't shake the feeling that this whole thing is just a sham. A pretty, expensive sham, but a sham nonetheless.

You watch as people schmooze and mingle, making deals and connections left and right. And you can't help but wonder if this is what your future holds too. A life of pretending, of smiling for the cameras while behind closed doors, it's all just business as usual.

But for now, you paste on your best fake smile and dance the night away, pretending that everything's okay. Because that's what you do when you're part of a family like yours. You put on a show, no matter what's really going on behind the scenes.

You're feeling suffocated by the crowd inside, like the tightness around your waist is almost causing claustrophobia. So you slip away to the backyard, sneaking a slice of cake from the waiters. Your mom had you on some ridiculous diet for a whole week leading up to this wedding, all so you could look "good" in your dress.

You plop down on a wooden bench, the dress spreading out in a big poof around you. Just as you're about to take a much-needed bite of cake, you're interrupted by a voice.

"Why isn't the bride inside enjoying her own party?" The voice belongs to Minghao, hands in his pockets as he stands there, looking at you.

You scoff, shooting him a look. "I'm sure no one's noticed. They're all too busy discussing the stock market or whatever." Your tone is sharp, the underlying tension between you and Minghao palpable.

Minghao snorts, clearly not impressed by your response. "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent less time worrying about your parents' company and more time actually enjoying life, you wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

You bristle at his comment, feeling a surge of anger rising within you. "Oh please, like you have any room to talk. Last time I checked, you were just as tangled up in all of this as I am."

Minghao's expression darkens, and for a moment, you worry you've gone too far. 

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-eaten slice of wedding cake. You watch him go, feeling a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite name. Maybe it's just the champagne talking, but for a brief moment, you can't help but wonder what life would be like if you weren't tied down by expectations and obligations. 

You stare at Minghao, disbelief written all over your face as you take in the sight of the one hotel room your parents booked for the both of you. A single queen-sized bed sits in the center of the room, effectively splitting the space into two halves. You shoot a glance at Minghao, and from the look in his eyes, you can tell he's just as shocked as you are.

The tension between you is palpable as you both stand there, sharing silent but deadly gazes. Finally, you break the silence, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Our parents booking us one room to 'get used' to each other. As if this whole shit wasn't enough already."

Minghao lets out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, because nothing says 'happily ever after' like forcing two strangers to share a bed on their wedding night."

You bite back a retort, opting instead for a more diplomatic approach. "Look, I think it's only fair that I take the bed and you can sleep on the couch."

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "And why is that?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation bubbling up inside you. "Because I'm the bride, for one," you retort, "and two, I've been on my feet all night, walking around in a dress that weighs a ton and heels that could rival skyscrapers. I think I deserve a decent night's sleep."

Minghao lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, please. Do you even know how exhausting it is to be the groom? I've been dealing with people all night, pretending to be someone I'm not, just like you."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms defiantly. "Fine," you say, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, "then let's settle this once and for all. Who's more tired: the bride who's been carrying around twelve kilograms of dress and heels all night, or the groom who's been putting on a show for hours on end?"

Minghao looks at you for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's trying not to smile. But then he shakes his head, a look of resignation crossing his face. "You win," he says, finally relenting, "you can have the bed."

You smirk triumphantly, feeling a small sense of victory despite the absurdity of the situation. And as you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

The next day rolls around, and before you even have a chance to properly wake up, you're thrown into a meeting. Brunch with both families sounds nice in theory, but when Minghao's dad starts putting papers on the table and declaring, "Let's get to what matters," you realize this isn't going to be a typical family gathering.

You try to maintain a facade of composure, but the discomfort gnaws at you like a persistent itch. So you do what you've gotten used to doing – you look down, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

Minghao notices immediately, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. His cheeks flush with embarrassment from his father's directness, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet his eyes. The weight of expectation hangs heavy in the air, and you can practically taste the tension swirling around the table.

As Minghao's dad starts talking about business deals and partnerships, you try to focus on the sound of his voice rather than the sinking feeling in your stomach. But no matter how hard you try to block it out, you can't shake the feeling that you're just a pawn in someone else's game – a game you never asked to play.

You steal a glance at Minghao, but his expression is unreadable, his mask firmly in place. And in that moment, you realize just how alone you really are in this world of high-stakes deals and empty promises.

You're lounging on the couch, the TV blaring in the background, but your mind is miles away. The penthouse feels emptier than ever, despite being filled with all the trappings of luxury. You and Minghao live under the same roof, yet it feels like you might as well be living on opposite ends of the earth. Separate rooms, separate lives, with only a perfunctory "good morning" or "good night" exchanged between you.

The loneliness weighs heavy on your chest, suffocating you with its presence. You long for something more, something real, but it feels like an impossible dream in this gilded cage you've found yourself trapped in.

You're lost in the numbing glow of the television when your phone buzzes with a notification. It's Minghao, informing you of a press conference he's scheduled for later that night. You furrow your brow, puzzled by the sudden announcement.

But it's his last message from the previous night that catches your attention. "Can you at least put on your best smile tonight?" he'd asked, a request that feels more like a demand. And you can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his presumption.

You make your way to his room, finding him hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows across his face. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watch him for a moment before speaking up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Put on my best smile? What's that supposed to mean?"

Minghao looks up from his computer, his expression unreadable. "It means exactly what it sounds like," he replies coolly, his tone clipped. "We both know how important appearances are in our world. So why not make an effort for once?"

You roll your eyes, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you. "I think you mean that you want me to play the dutiful wife once again, to plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything's fine," you snap, the bitterness seeping into your words.

Minghao's jaw tightens, and for a moment, it looks like he's about to argue back. But then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly tired and defeated. "Look, I know this isn't what either of us wanted," he says, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. "But it's what we have to do. For our families, for the company."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Is that really all that matters to you? The company? "But fine," you say through clenched teeth, pushing yourself away from the doorframe. "I'll put on my best smile tonight. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

You sit in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven car, your gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. The skyscrapers blur into a haze of steel and glass, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside your mind.

Minghao breaks the silence with a casual remark, his tone tinged with amusement. "You don't look like someone who agreed to the terms of our agreement," he observes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You let out a frustrated huff, tearing your eyes away from the window to glare at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I need some time before I can fully commit to this whole acting profession," you retort, your words dripping with bitterness.

Minghao presses his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh at your expense. The corners of his mouth twitch with amusement, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he looks away, pretending to be absorbed in the passing scenery.

You bristle at his reaction, feeling a surge of indignation coursing through you. "What's so funny?" you demand, your voice sharp with irritation.

Minghao shakes his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Nothing," he replies casually, his tone disarmingly nonchalant. "I mean, take all the time you need… Just try not to look too pitiful when we walk through those doors." 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the chauffeur stops and opens the door for you, signaling your arrival at the event, Minghao's voice cuts through the silence.

"Hand," he says simply, holding out his hand towards you.

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. "Excuse me?" you reply, not quite sure you heard him correctly.

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk as he repeats himself, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I said, hand," he repeats, his tone playful yet insistent.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his audacity, but begrudgingly, you reach out and grab his hand, almost aggressively. His grin widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the touch surprisingly delicate despite the underlying tension between you.

As you and Minghao step into the event, hand in hand, you can feel the weight of your parents' surprised stares on you. Their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the sight of you two holding hands, a rare display of unity between the two families.

Minghao squeezes your hand gently, a small smirk playing on his lips as he catches your parents' reaction. "See?" he murmurs softly, leaning in close to you. "It's easy. A little thing like this makes them happy."

You can't help but feel a surge of resentment bubbling up inside you at his words. Easy for him to say, you think bitterly. He's always been the one who effortlessly falls into line, who knows exactly how to play the game to get what he wants.

But despite your inner turmoil, you force a tight smile and nod in agreement, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your parents. "Yeah, easy," you echo, your voice strained as you try to keep up the facade.

As the long-winded speeches from the ambassadors drone on, you find yourself sinking deeper into your chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. Minghao leans in close, his voice a soft whisper against your ear as he asks if you want something from the bar. You shake your head, declining his offer with a tired sigh.

He nods in understanding and excuses himself, disappearing into the crowd for a moment. But as the minutes drag on and the speech finally reaches its conclusion, Minghao still hasn't returned. Your eyes scan the room, searching for any sign of him, and that's when you spot her – a woman leaning in close to him, her body language oozing with flirtation.

Your stomach churns with a mix of anger and disbelief. What does she think she's doing? That's your husband she's flirting with, for crying out loud. You glance down at your wedding ring, then back at Minghao, then down at your ring again, the weight of it heavy on your finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you stand up from the table, your movements cautious as you make your way over to them. Fuck, you hate that you're doing this right now, but you can't just sit idly by while some random woman tries to make a move on your husband.

Minghao's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of your determined gaze, and for a brief moment, you almost feel guilty for interrupting. But then you remember who you are – his wife – and the guilt fades away, replaced by a steely resolve.

"I have a wife," Minghao's voice cuts through the air, firm and unwavering, as you approach him and the woman who's been flirting with him. His words send a jolt of surprise through you, momentarily halting your steps.

But before you can even react, Minghao continues, his tone tinged with irritation, "And she's storming over here, so please, just leave me alone."

"Hi, Hao," you greet Minghao as you finally reach him, unable to hide the hint of irritation in your voice. "You took a long time. What happened?"

Minghao's eyes widen slightly at your abrupt approach, and he stammers for a moment before the woman beside him interjects, "Oh, she's your friend?"

Minghao's response is immediate and almost defensive. "No, I don't know her," he says quickly, his tone betraying his discomfort.

You can't help but suppress a smirk at his awkwardness, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at seeing him squirm. "Nice to meet you," you say smoothly, extending your hand to the woman. "I'm Mrs. Xu."

The woman's eyes widen in surprise as she takes your hand, clearly caught off guard by your assertive introduction. "Oh, um, nice to meet you too," she replies, her voice slightly shaky.

You turn your attention back to Minghao, noting the relief in his eyes as you come to his "rescue." Poor Minghao, you think to yourself, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him despite your earlier annoyance. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation, and the sight of you coming to his aid seems to help him breathe a little easier.

The woman walks away, leaving you and Minghao standing there in the aftermath of the awkward encounter. You turn to him, your expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Come on, Minghao," you begin, your voice low but firm. "You need to know how to handle situations like that. What if people who know our family saw that? It could cause all sorts of rumors and complications."

Minghao's jaw tightens as he meets your gaze, a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. "I didn't ask for her to approach me," he retorts, his tone defensive. "I told her I have a wife. What more do you want from me?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your temper in check. "I just want you to be more aware of how your actions reflect on both of us," you reply, your voice tinged with exasperation. "We're married, Minghao. That means we have to think about each other's reputations and how our behavior affects them."

Minghao's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a stubborn set to his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know that," he says, his voice quieter now, more subdued. "But sometimes things happen, and I can't control them."

You shake your head, feeling a surge of frustration rising within you. "That's not an excuse, Minghao," you say firmly. "We both have to do better if we want this marriage to work. We have to be a team."

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk of his own, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he steps closer to you. "Oh, is that so, Mrs. Xu?" he replies, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "And what exactly would it take for me to earn back the privilege of being called by my first name?"

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his cheekiness. "Maybe if you stopped getting yourself into awkward situations with random women at parties," you shoot back, unable to resist the opportunity for a playful jab.

Minghao feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Hey now, that wasn't entirely my fault," he protests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, you were the one who came to my rescue, remember?"

Minghao's playful grin falters as you shoot him a pointed look, hands firmly planted on your hips. "Am I wrong now? What should I do then?" you challenge, your tone laced with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression sheepish as he searches for an answer. "You need to make them know I'm your husband," he suggests vaguely, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

You narrow your gaze, a surge of determination coursing through you as you follow his line of sight to the woman who had been eyeing him earlier. She's still watching him, her gaze lingering a little too long for your liking.

"Fine then," you declare, your jaw set in determination. Without another word, you reach out and grab Minghao by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Before he can protest, you press your lips to his in a firm, possessive kiss.

For a moment, Minghao freezes, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air. But then, as if realizing what's happening, he responds eagerly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair as the kiss deepens.

You trail kisses along his neck, feeling a low hum of satisfaction reverberate through him. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as you continue to explore the sensitive skin of his neck with your lips.

When you pull back slightly, his eyes meet yours, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. You reach up and gently tug on his bottom lip, a silent invitation for him to surrender completely to the passion between you.

Minghao's lips part in response, his eyes darkening with desire as he leans in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both.

As you finally break the kiss, your lips swollen and tingling with the taste of him, you look at his face, satisfied with your handiwork. His lips, jaw, and neck are adorned with smudges of your red lipstick, a visible testament that being arranged or not, he is your husband.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you reach out and grab Minghao by the tie, tugging him gently but firmly in the direction of the exit. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but he follows your lead without hesitation.

As you walk through the party, you make no effort to hide the fact that you're leading Minghao out by his tie. You want everyone to see, especially that woman who dared to flirt with him earlier. With each step, you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you're marking your territory, making it abundantly clear to anyone watching that Minghao belongs to you.

People turn to look as you pass by, their curious glances met with a confident smile from you and a sheepish grin from Minghao. You hold your head high, your grip on his tie unwavering as you guide him through the crowd.

Finally, you reach the exit, and with one last glance around the room, you pull Minghao outside, the cool night air washing over you both. Alone at last, you turn to him with a victorious smirk.

"Well, that was fun," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you release his tie. "But I think we've made our point. Shall we get out of here?"

Minghao chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as he takes your hand in his. "Absolutely," he replies, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "Anywhere you want to go, Mrs. Xu."

As soon as you step through the door of your home, you're wrapped up in a frenzy of passionate kisses with Minghao. Clothes, shoes, and his tie fly off haphazardly as you stumble towards the nearest surface, unable to keep your hands off each other.

Between kisses, Minghao pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "I didn't know you were that jealous," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hiss in response, your breath catching in your throat as his lips trail along your skin. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, your voice tinged with frustration. "I was just...rescuing you, you bastard!"

Minghao laughs at your outburst, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, just like a predator," he teases, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound confidence.

You scoff at his comment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You've seen nothing yet," you reply, meeting his gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

Minghao's eyes light up with excitement as he looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yeah," you confirm with a smirk, pulling him in for another kiss.

But then, his hand moves to the top of your head, gently guiding you downwards until your knees find the ground. You look up at him with a mixture of desire and anticipation, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you eagerly await his next move.

With a shaky breath, Minghao pulls himself free from his pants, his cock standing proudly before you. You wrap your hand around it, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your touch. A wicked grin plays at your lips as you tap the tip of his cock against your face, biting your lip in anticipation.

Minghao lets out a shaky moan at the provocative sight before him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. "Fuck, you're so damn sexy," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You smirk up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you tease him with your lips. "Mmm, maybe," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me, Minghao."

His breath hitches as he meets your gaze, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you closer to him. "I want you more than anything," he confesses, his voice thick with desire. "I need you, baby. Please, show me how much you want me too."

You eagerly lower your mouth onto Minghao's throbbing cock, sucking greedily as you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. You can feel him thrusting his hips, the need for more driving him to move against you.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, giving him the freedom to move as he pleases. His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements as he sets the pace, his hips rocking against you in a rhythm of his own making.

As you take him deeper, you close your eyes, relaxing your jaw to accommodate his length. Minghao's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his words a gentle reminder of his concern for your well-being.

"Tap if you need to breathe," he murmurs, his hand tightening in your ponytail as he continues to move his hips.

You press your hand against his thigh in affirmation, letting him know that you're okay as you continue to take him deeper, your throat working to accommodate his length. Minghao lets out a low groan of pleasure, his hips moving in tandem with your movements as you both chase the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Between thrusts, Minghao's voice fills the air with a husky whisper. "God, you feel so fucking good," he moans, his words driving you to take him even deeper. "You're amazing, baby. Just keep going, just like that."

As Minghao's cock throbs in your mouth, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Drool drips from your chin, a testament to your eagerness and arousal, as you continue to take him deeper, your mouth working tirelessly to please him.

With each throb of his cock, you can feel the tension building, the heat of his arousal radiating through you. Your eyes roll back in your head, lost in a haze of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And as Minghao's cock pulses in your mouth, you know that you've pushed him to the edge, his release imminent. With one final throb, he cries out your name, his body tensing as he spills his cum into your waiting mouth.

You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him. You moan softly as Minghao's lips meet yours again, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and he slowly guides you towards his room.

As you fall onto the bed, Minghao's fingers trace lazy patterns along your inner thighs, making you squirm beneath his touch, unable to hide your arousal as he gazes down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

"You're so wet…" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he continues to tease you with his fingers.

Minghao's lips curl into a smug grin as his fingers trailing lower until they reach the damp fabric of your panties. With agonizing slowness, he begins to peel them away, revealing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he whispers, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leans in close. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

You arch your back, aching for his touch as you meet his gaze with a sultry smirk. "I want your fingers inside me, Minghao" you breathe, your voice dripping with desire. "I want you to make me come so fucking hard"

Minghao's eyes darken with lust as he hears your words, his fingers finding their way to your slick entrance. With a wicked grin, he plunges his slender fingers deep inside you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, he finds it – that deep spot that sends electric jolts shooting through you. Your pussy clenches around his fingers in response, a desperate attempt to hold your orgasm.

But Minghao isn't finished yet. With a wicked grin, he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers his intentions. "You're not going to cum yet," he murmurs. "Let me hit that spot with my cock, then you can cream around it as much as you want."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, with the promise of what's going to come. With a nod of agreement, you bite your lip in anticipation, eager for the moment when Minghao will fuck you with his cock.

As Minghao positions himself above you, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of pleasure to come, you sneak a peek at his cock. It's long, with bulging veins and dripping with pre-cum, making it clear he's rock hard and ready to go. The contrast with his slender body just makes it look even bigger.

Before you can even think of a response, Minghao speaks up, his voice low and husky. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, his eyes smoldering with desire.

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can get a word out, his cock is stretching you out, leaving you breathless and speechless as he fills you completely.

As soon as Minghao finds your g'spot, your pussy immediately tightens around him, milking him with such intensity that he has to hold himself back from coming right then and there. His pretty moans only serve to heighten your own arousal, making it even harder for you to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he tries to control himself. He hopes that you'll stop clenching, but as soon as he hits that spot again, he hisses in response, the sensation driving him wild.

Realizing that he's in danger of cumming too early, Minghao decides to focus on fucking you in just the right way, hitting that spot with precision and intensity. He squirms, desperate for you to climax first, knowing that your pleasure will only fuel his own.

With each thrust, each movement, the pleasure builds between you, reaching a fever pitch that threatens to consume you both. Minghao's hips move in a steady rhythm, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you with each thrust, his own pleasure mounting with each passing second.

And then, finally, it happens. You reach the peak of ecstasy, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as pleasure washes over you in relentless waves. Your pussy clenches around Minghao's cock, milking him for all he's worth as he loses control, his own release crashing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure.

With a tired groan, Minghao collapses beside you, his body spent from the intensity of your shared passion. He turns to you with a lazy smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

"If I'd known all it took to get you to kiss me was making you jealous, I would've done it ages ago," he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

You roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest.

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "Imagine if you were then" he scoffs, his tone teasing. "I don't think we'd be here right now if you weren't just a little bit jealous."

You huff in mock indignation, but deep down, you know he's right.

ou nudge Minghao playfully, a smile dancing on your lips. "Well, lucky for you, a little jealousy was all it took," you quip, teasing him.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you. "I guess I'll have to remember that for next time," he replies, his voice tinged with amusement.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, so there's going to be a next time now?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Minghao grins, leaning in closer to you. "Count on it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he brushes his lips against yours.

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[eddiesghxst]

best friend!reader x best friend!steddie and shes telling them how she doesnt know how to give head so they teach her🥹

HELLO I SCREAMED. YES A MILLION TIMES.

(sorry for any mistakes it’s 2 am and i didn’t proofread oops)

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

Steve should’ve known Eddie was cooking something up whilst you were explaining your dilemma. He should’ve seen it coming, but he was too busy listening to you ramble about how you’re scared to give a blowjob because you’ve never done it— scared about what movements feel good and how to be conscious of your teeth (you’ve heard that men complain about that a lot).

He was being a nice friend, consoling you and trying his best to assure you that you’re just overthinking and when the time comes, you won’t be as bad as you think you’ll be.

And Steve was so occupied with you that you both seemed to have forgotten the little devil sitting on the opposite side of you until he spoke up, tone suggestive with a glint in his eyes that made you what to squirm, “What if we just showed you how to do it?”

So now, Steve’s jeans are pooled around his ankles and his shirt is rucked up his chest as you and Eddie kneel before him. Steve’s not exactly sure why he was chosen to be the demonstration model, but he can’t find it in him to complain— especially not when your warm hands are slowly jerking him off in a toe-curling way that has him nearly seeing god.

Eddie’s hand rests over your hand, gently guiding your sinful movements and the scene causes Steve’s eyes to roll with a string of curses falling from his tongue. Eddie smirks at the sight, “Feels good, big boy?”

“Y-yeah… fuck, I don’t wanna cum before she has a chance. Hurry up, Munson.”

Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes before turning to you, “Okay sweetheart, Stevie here can’t take much more of your teasing so we’re gonna have to move onto the next step. Consider that a compliment.” He winks and you preen.

Eddie’s fist is gently stroking Steve’s cock as he speaks, “It’s easy, really. You can start out with a few licks and kisses, but overall, just imagine you’re sucking a popsicle.” Eddie leans forward, hand still stroking the throbbing cock as he licks at the tip a few times before pressing a few kisses to the underside of Steve’s cock.

Steve’s thighs tense, breath stuttering at Eddie’s teasing touches. Eddie’s lips close around the tip of Steve and he gently suckles, lapping up the bit of precum and humming at the taste. As Eddie sinks lower, Steve moans, a curse falling from his lips. Eddie sucks him off for a little bit before he pulls off with an approving hum, smirking at Steve’s disheveled state and the sight of your intrigued expression.

“Wanna try, sweetheart?” He asks. You quickly nod and he shuffles to the side to make room for you. You eagerly grasp Steve’s wet cock, stroking a few times as Eddie had beforehand. You lean forward to mouth at Steve’s cock, but you hesitate last second, glancing over at Eddie for an approving nod which he quickly gives.

You lean in, alternating between sloppy kisses and wet licks up his cock. You keep going until Steve’s hand reaches up to hold your head, resting there in an encouraging manner. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck, just like Eddie, slowly moving down the length of Steve. You can hear Steve’s bated breathing and Eddie’s soft praise, “Good girl, you’re taking him so well, princess.” His ringed hand rubs soothing circles against your back.

You don’t see it, but Steve can clearly see Eddie’s other hand sink to his own crotch, softly pressing against the hard tent beneath his jeans. You moan, pushing forward as far as you comfortably can, shuffling on your knees as you begin to bob your head up and down the length.

“How’s she feel, Harrington?” Eddie asks, gaze flickering up to the other curly-haired boy. “Fuck— good, she’s really good… i’m gonna cum, pull off.”

Your wide eyes flicker up to Steve’s face, watching as his features twist in pleasure. Eddie gently tugs your hair, silently ordering you to pull off of Steve’s dick. You release him from your mouth with a sinful pop, continuing your slow strokes as you look at Eddie, chest heaving in excitement and lack of air.

“I-I wanna taste.” You admit. Steve curses, a curled fist rising to his forehead as he tries to ground himself from the words you’ve just said. Eddie smirks, “Yeah? Wanna give it a try, princess?”

You nod and he chuckles, “Go ahead, before Stevie passes out.”

Steve curses at Eddie and you giggle and happily resume your activity. As you continue sucking Steve off, Eddie sneaks a hand in between you and Steve, gently grasping Steve’s tight balls. Steve moans, gaze snapping towards Eddie’s to see him smirking, “Come on, Harrington, you gonna keep our girl waiting?”

And Steve sure as hell isn’t, he’s blowing his load the second Eddie asks, moaning and cursing as he empties himself into the wet heat of your mouth.

You take as much as you can before you pull away, sputtering for air and coughing at what little cum you’d choked on and Eddie softly laugh, rubbing soothing circles across your back as Steve strokes himself off for the last few ropes of cum left in him.

“Did… was that any good?” You ask, wide eyes darting between the two boys. Steve scoffs out a laugh, “Yeah, sweetheart, that was fucking insane.”

You giggle in excitement and Eddie smiles. Steve stokes his sensitive cock once and moans before nodding at the two of you, “Now, why don’t you show Eddie what you learned, hm?”

#THIS WAS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT SORRY I WAS GOING FERAL #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #drabble #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve x eddie #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #best friend!eddie #best friend!steve #steddie #steddie x reader #steddie smut #steddie x reader smut

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Summary: June brings the end of Harris's preschool career and the official beginning of your new life as a family of three--with a little help from your friends, of course.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), p in v, mentions of phone sex, grief and loss

WC: 7.8k

Chapter 20/20

A/N: With the official end of Trapped Under Ice, I am now opening up requests in the TUI universe. Thank you all for taking this journey with me as I processed my own grief. As long as you keep requesting, I will continue writing for our little family 💚

Thank you to @rip-quizilla for making that scene stronger. Ily, bb.

Divider credit to @saradika

The diner is bustling with customers, happily chatting over stacks of pancakes and overstuffed omelets. Coffee carafes clink against chipped mugs as the waitstaff pours refill after refill. 

You weave through the rows of tables, careful not to bump into servers balancing trays of food or busboys carrying the used dishes and silverware. A small yellow gift bag is clutched in your hand, and you hold it to your chest to protect its fragile contents. 

Harris spots you before you can see him; his little arm shoots up from where he’s tucked into the booth next to Wayne. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he frantically waves, his grin wide enough to stretch off of his cheeks. “Over here!”

You laugh, watching as Eddie scoots from the middle of the seat to the end, making room for you to sit down. There are two steaming cups on his side of the table, centered on little saucers that are likely older than you are. 

“Morning, baby,” he greets you with a smile, leaning in to give you a small kiss—no tongue, of course—as you slide in next to him. “You sleep okay last night?”

You nod sheepishly, remembering the phone conversation the two of you had had, well after Harris fell asleep. Eddie’s sultry voice had guided you through touching yourself; the next-best thing to having his own fingers inside you. 

“Wish I could be there right now,” he’d murmured into the receiver, so low that you could barely hear him. The faint sound of his own fly being lowered punctuated his words. “Wanna make you feel so good, Sweetheart, but I know you’re being a good girl f’me tonight, aren’t you?”

You bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping to blame the heat creeping up your face on the drink, and take a hearty sip. It’s a little sweet, but mostly bitter. Just how you like it. 

The crinkling tissue paper as you lean back in the booth draws your attention to your company and away from your indulgent memories. “Happy Father’s Day, Eddie,” you kiss him on the cheek, your lipstick tinting his stubble pink. “This is from me and Harris. Be careful with it.” There’s a deliberate vagueness in your warning, not wanting to spoil the surprise. 

Eddie cocks his brow, clearly not expecting any sort of present from you. Shocking, considering you’d taken Harris to the Paint-n-Play on Wednesday during your usual tutoring session time, and you’d figured he would have spilled the beans as soon as he and his dad had a moment alone. He rustles around the bag with dramatic flourish, trying to build anticipation but only succeeding in testing Harris’s patience.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!” Harris bounces up and down in his seat, mouth sticky and teeth tinted purple with grape juice as he urges Eddie to stop dragging out the process. Wayne discreetly places his palm behind his grandson’s scalp, protecting his head in case he rocks too far back. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart did it together!”

“You did, huh?” Eddie chuckles, pulling out a ceramic mug. It’s painted sky blue, and Harris had insisted on making purple polka dots, splotchy as he’d haphazardly dunked the brush in paint and pressed it to the plaster. Written in bright orange blocky letters is DAD; you’d helped him sound out duhh-ahhh-duhh, his little tongue poking out in complete concentration. Your only visible contribution is the tiny green 1997 painted along the handle, marking the first year you’d celebrated Father’s Day together.

The multitude of complementary colors and mismatched designs should clash. The dots look more like disfigured spiders than circles. The 7 you’d carefully written with a fine-tipped brush is slightly smudged from where Harris had picked up the mug before it had fully dried, and there’s an extra curving line extending from the first D in DAD after he’d started writing the letter backwards.

To Eddie, it’s perfect.

“I love it.” Brown eyes find his son’s hopeful gaze that eagerly awaits his father’s reaction. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He places the mug on the table next to the coffee-filled one in front of him, tipping its contents into his gift. A few drops dribble down the side, but most of it ends up where it should. A success, in his opinion. He takes a hearty gulp, not caring that the hot liquid singes his taste buds. “Is this magic?” He holds the mug up to his face, studying it like it’s a precious stone. “Because, I swear, it makes this coffee taste better.”

The little boy beams, exchanging an elated glance with you. “Ms. Sweetheart, did you put magic in it?”

Eddie chimes in before you can respond. “I bet she did. She’s sneaky with it; always sprinkling it where you least expect.” His empty hand finds your thigh underneath the table, silently claiming it as his own. “I don’t know how she does it,” he muses wistfully, adding another sugar packet to the mug and swirling it with a spoon until it’s dissolved. Like it was always part of the coffee from the jump. 

“Speaking of presents,” Wayne chimes in, unearthing a tiny, newspaper-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and handing it to his nephew. “‘S, not much, but it’s a Father’s-Day-slash-housewarming gift for ya.” 

“I thought we agreed on no gifts,” Eddie shakes his head, suddenly self-conscious about arriving empty-handed. 

“Well, I lied.”

Wayne watches as Eddie tears into the paper. Whatever home run or double-header had made the front page of the sports section is irrelevant compared to the mystery item that is snugly tucked between baseball stats and the upcoming game schedule. 

A small gasp leaves his mouth as he unwraps a wallet-sized picture frame; the word family is etched into the wood right above the plastic-protected photo. 

It’s from Harris’s bowling party; the one Wayne had taken of you and Eddie on either side of the birthday boy. Happiness radiates off of the three of you with such intensity that it seems impossible for it to be captured in a still frame. He’d forgotten that Wayne had even snapped it.

“Wayne, I…” Eddie struggles to find the words he needs to properly convey his feelings. The tip of his nose burns with the anticipated influx of emotions. “I’m gonna put it right next to my alarm clock, so it’s the first thing I see every morning.” 

You lay your head on his shoulder, the edge of his lips finding your forehead in a half-kiss. He soaks in the comfort you bring, absorbing it through every pore as he exhales and feels himself relax.

The waitress comes over with a notepad and a smile. “You folks ready to order?” She clicks her pen, poised to jot down what the four of you want to eat.

“Chicken fingers, please!” Harris announces, perching up on his knees and leaning his elbows on the table. “With French fries!”

The waitress, whose name tag reads Bee, offers a sympathetic smile and a soft click of her tongue. “I’m sorry, buddy. We don’t start serving lunch until 11:30.”

The boy’s lower lip quivers at the news, having his heart set on eating his favorite food. You can see his perfectly curated routine begin to crumble, taking his excitement with it. “But…but I even said ‘please!’” he insists, voice cracking. 

You step in quickly, wanting to salvage the Father’s Day celebration before Hurricane Harris can brew up a storm. “Hey, Har, I know you’re disappointed about the chicken fingers, but I have a super special idea.”

“Wh-What?” Misty eyes indicate that tears still threaten to spill over his lashes. 

“When Grandma used to take me to the diner, we used to split silver dollars. They’re pancakes, just smaller.” You take a deep breath and smile, hoping and praying that your plan works. “Would you like to share some silver dollars with me? And we can come back and get chicken fingers another time.”

Harris considers your proposition, rubbing his hands together along his knuckles to soothe himself. Finally, he says, “Can we eat them with syrup?”

“That sounds delicious.” You lean over and ruffle his hair, careful not to let any loose strands land on the table. “You wanna tell the waitress?”

“Mmkay,” he nods, turning to Bee and smiling. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are gonna have the, um, little pancakes.” He frowns, unable to remember the dish’s name. “The dollars?”

Bee laughs and nods, jotting it on her notepad. “An order of silver dollar pancakes, coming right up. And for you gentlemen?” She brings her attention to Eddie and Wayne. 

The older man clears his throat, ordering a Western omelet with home fries and rye toast. Eddie asks for the same but with white bread. “And a refill on the coffee,” he adds. 

Bee promises to be back shortly with the food, and the four of you resume your conversation. 

“We’ll get to take a new picture next week at someone’s graduation,” you say with a smile, looking in Harris’s direction. “Are you excited, Har Bear?”

Harris takes another messy sip of grape juice. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go to kindergarten soon! But first is summer.” 

“Summer first, then kindergarten,” you agree, sipping your coffee before it gets cold. You’re no stranger to it, often setting down your to-go cup at work and forgetting about it until well after morning circle time, but you relish any chance you get to enjoy it while it’s still warm. “I was thinking: once you and Daddy are all moved in, we should make plans for this summer. Like the zoo, or the pool…”

“Yeah!” Harris claps his hands together and grins. “Or Disney World!”

Eddie’s ears perk up at his son’s suggestion. “Not this year, but maybe soon.” If he can continue moving up the ranks at the record store, coupled with the two of you splitting rent, it might even happen next year, but he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee he’ll keep. “And we’ll drag Grampa Wayne with us.”

Wayne responds with a shake of his head. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m goin’ on any of those roller coasters.”

“You’re gonna sit and ride It’s a Small World the whole day?” Eddie teases, leaning back in his seat. 

“Damn straight.”

The food comes out ten minutes later, steaming plates carefully placed on the table. You cut the silver dollar pancakes into bite-size pieces, pushing half to the side nearest Harris and the other half closest to you. A glass syrup carafe waits to be used, its handle sticky with residue. 

“Say when,” you tell Harris, drizzling it back and forth across the plate. He waits until the pancakes are drenched before stopping you.

You watch as he uses his fork to spear some pancake, pops it in his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. “It’s yummy!” he declares triumphantly, already scanning the plate for his next piece. “This is my favorite food ever!”

You, Eddie, and Wayne share smiles; none of you take his declaration too seriously, knowing he changes his favorite anythings on an hourly basis. Still, a win is a win, and avoiding a chicken finger-induced tantrum is no small feat. 

Eddie spreads a pat of butter over his toast, but his eyes never shift from you and Harris sharing breakfast. You’d asked him whether he prefers blueberries or chocolate chips in his pancakes, and the discussion quickly devolved into a competition to see who could come up with the grossest pancake addition. 

“How about…” Harris wiggles his nose, “broccoli pancakes?”

“Ew!” You stick out your tongue in disgust. “That was a good one, but I think I can top it. Would you eat…” you tap your chin in contemplation, “fish stick pancakes!”

Harris squeals, far from an inside voice, but no one wants to correct him. “That’s super yucky! Fish stick pancakes?!”

Eddie smiles, tucking into his own food. He wants to savor the joy, the warmth. The twinkle in Wayne’s eyes, the upturned corners of Harris’s lips, the trill of your laugh. He wishes he could capture the feeling, but a mental image will have to do. 

He inhales and allows himself to be wrapped in the unconditional love he had once convinced himself he didn’t want nor deserve. 

The Hawkins Preschool cafeteria has once again been transformed. The custodians folded the long tables, propping them against the wall, and set up rows of folding chairs, leaving a small aisle for the graduates’ families to find their seats. 

Other parents stare as Eddie walks in, perspiration prickling under his arms as he hears them whispering about the kid who ran away. It’s audible enough for Wayne to hear; he rests his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before they take their seats. 

Jeff and Dustin arrive a few moments later, noticing Eddie and Wayne in the small crowd and shuffling over. Eddie pulls them each in for a quick hug, and Wayne does the same.

“Glad we made it,” Dustin says with a sigh of relief. “My flight got delayed half an hour, but we made up the time in the air.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that we had to stop at a payphone so you could call your precious Suzie-Poo,” he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of a smile on his lips, proud of the way his friend cares so deeply for his partner. “Anyway, we’re here now.” He takes a seat next to Wayne, shifting so he can speak to Eddie. “Is Harris excited to graduate?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the recent memory of his son prancing around the apartment that morning in his cap and gown, small body drowning in the flowing green fabric. In that instant, Eddie could picture him as a young man, crossing a much larger stage to receive his diploma from Hawkins High. If Higgins is still the principal, Eddie might have to teach Harris the family tradition of flipping him off. 

Sue Sinclair makes her way up the small staircase to the podium, adjusting the microphone so she speaks into it easily. “Good morning, parents, siblings, and other special guests. Welcome to Hawkins Preschool’s Moving Up ceremony.” She beams, holding for applause. Eddie eases back into his seat; he’s known Principal Sinclair for years, since Lucas had joined Hellfire, and she’d recently stepped up to take over teaching Harris’s class for the remaining weeks of the school year. After the little boy had given his statement to the police, Marion and Paula’s teaching licenses had been immediately terminated, and negligence charges were currently pending.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to make an announcement.” Sue Sinclair looks over to where your class is standing, patiently waiting their turn to receive their sticker-laden diplomas. “I am pleased to announce that our very own Mr. Will Byers,” she extends her hand in Will’s direction, “will be our newest head teacher starting this fall.”

Though everyone in attendance is clapping, it’s obvious that Eddie, Wayne, Jeff, and Dustin cheer the loudest. Will blushes red, unused to being the center of attention, but the smile on his face shows how excited he is to take on this new role. You wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and pull him in for a proud hug.

“Our students have worked incredibly hard this year, learning their letters, numbers, and how to be a good friend,” the principal continues. “And though we will miss them dearly, we are thrilled to send them off to kindergarten with these new skills. So, without further ado, let’s bring out our graduates!”

The ceremony begins, starting with your class. You stand at one end of the stage, sending each student off to where Will is waiting at the other end as Principal Sinclair reads out each of their names. They take their certificates and pose with baby teeth on full display while their parents snap photos from disposable Kodaks and bulky Nikons. All the seemingly endless days, the menial fights over sharing toys; every moment was worth it if it led to this.

You usher the kids to their seats in the front row after your final student’s name is called, spotting Eddie in the crowd as you sit down. He winks, the corner of his eye mischievously crinkling. You smile, taking full advantage of the other parents’ distractedness and give him a little wave; the exchange a private love letter.

Both of you bring your attention back to the stage when Sue Sinclair calls up the next class. Harris stands towards the center of the line, excitement buzzing through him at a rate that cannot be contained. He rocks from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth as he awaits his turn. His brown ringlets poke out from underneath his cap, grazing just above his eyebrows. 

Principal Sinclair pauses, looking directly at Eddie when she speaks. She understands the gravity of this accomplishment, her lipsticked smile reaching her eyes as she leans in towards the microphone.

“Harris Munson!”

Eddie jumps up, hollering as loud as his vocal cords will allow. Harris accepts his diploma and smiles wide, both at his accomplishment and at the sound of his dad cheering him on. His expression further brightens when he sees Wayne, Dustin, and Jeff beside him, and he waves while jumping up and down.

He’s supposed to walk from stage left to stage right, just as all the students before him have done; in typical Harris fashion, he takes the road less traveled. With a mighty leap, he catapults himself off of the stage and makes a beeline straight for you.

Two little arms wrap themselves around you, squeezing you as tight as they can. The brim of his cap is flush against your cheek. “I did it, Ms. Sweetheart!” His words carry a lightheartedness that only a child’s joy can bring. “Did you see?” He picks his head up from where it was nestled against you and giggles, dimpled chin brushing your bicep.

You tilt the mortarboard slightly upward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I saw, Har,” you tell him, using your thumb to wipe away your lipstick print, “and I am so, so proud of you.” Readjusting his cap, you usher him over to where the rest of his class is standing, a garden of happiness blooming within you. 

You look back at where Eddie is sitting, wishing you could sit next to him, fingers laced together while his thumb caresses the side of your hand and grasping your hand tighter when Harris’s name is called. For now, it’s enough to know that you’ll be by his side throughout all of Harris’s future endeavors and accomplishments. A team. 

Eddie’s palms press into his slack-covered thighs as he peers over at you and grins. Bright, adoring eyes meet yours, speaking every thought that his mouth can’t say right now. I love you. Thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.

You accept the wordless praise with a smile, one that reaches beyond its usual confines. 

Dustin notices the small exchange, and he nudges Eddie’s ribs with his elbow. “She’s the one, huh?” He cocks his eyebrow knowingly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie murmurs, no longer paying any attention to the remaining names being read aloud. “You ever think you’d see the day I settle down?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an ounce of insecurity behind them. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin nods without hesitation. “Always knew you would.” Carol Perkins shushes him from the row ahead, but he just flips her off and rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t you remember that time in high school when we got sloshed—sorry, Wayne,” Jeff cuts in sheepishly, “and you went on a rant about how you secretly wanted the whole wife, kids, picket fence deal?”

“And I believe I threatened to kick your ass if you told anyone,” Eddie points out, embarrassment turning his face red, apparent even under the light stubble covering his cheeks. 

Wayne chuckles softly. “I already knew. About the dream and the booze.” He laughs a bit harder at Jeff and Eddie’s shocked expressions. “If you keep replacing vodka with water, eventually, it’s all just water.”

“Ya don’t say.” Dustin’s sarcasm bleeds through his whisper. 

Principal Sinclair reads the last student’s name with the same enthusiasm she’s given all of the other kids. “I now present to you, the Hawkins Preschool class of 1997!” She mimes tossing a cap in the air, the students’ cue to do the same. 

The fervor of the cheers and applause could shake the cafeteria. Whistles pierce the air and reverberate off of the walls, none louder than Wayne Munson’s. You stand up, smoothing the pleats of your dress to soak in the achievement of completing another academic year; for you, this one in a brand new school with more challenges than you’d cared to endure. 

You and Will take in the sight of nine cherubic faces looking up at you in admiration, though they’re beginning to shed their baby fat. This was certainly a journey, and you couldn’t have asked for a better teaching assistant to walk beside you through it all. 

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” you say, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

“I’ll be right down the hall!”

Begrudgingly, you let go of him, not losing the pout on your lips. “That’s way too far for me.” The two of you both know that you’re serious; it won’t be the same without having him in the classroom with you. “Can we try to match up our breaks and eat lunch together?”

“It’s a date,” Will laughs, then juts out his chin to motion behind you, “but it looks like I might have some competition.”

Before you can turn around, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist. He tugs you in close so your back is flush against his chest, the buttons from his shirt pressing into your spine. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, lips so close that they brush the lobe. “Are you ready to start your summer?”

You kiss his cheek, adjusting your stance so you can walk hand in hand to get Harris. He torpedoes himself into Eddie’s stomach, shrieking with laughter as he’s lifted into the air. 

“Har Bear, you’re a preschool graduate!” Eddie smacks a kiss to his son’s temple. “How should we celebrate, hmm? Ice cream? Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Ice cream!” Harris decides easily. “I’m gonna get cotton candy with rainbow sprinkles and—Uncle Dusty!” He squirms out of Eddie’s grasp and races over to Dustin. 

“What? I’m not an ice cream topping!” Dustin teases, crouching down to ruffle Harris’s curls, matted to his scalp from being hidden underneath the cap. 

Harris giggles. “You’re so silly!” He glances back and forth from him to you, and you realize he doesn’t know that you’d met in March at Will’s birthday party. “Uncle Dusty, this is Ms. Sweetheart. She’s my almost-mommy.”

“Ohh,” Dustin replies with a smirk, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “I think she needs to be your dad’s almost-wife first–”

“All right! Ice cream time!” Eddie hurries to cut him off, glaring at Dustin for bringing the idea to Harris’s attention again; he has constantly been hounding him about marriage ever since he found out about his newest living arrangements. The idea of marrying you, however, eases his tension and has a smile tugging on his lips; a slight switch in expression that his uncle spots easily.

Wayne’s gruff whisper is in Eddie’s ear. “Sounds like it’s time for an almost-proposal.”

“Shut up!”

“I think that’s the last of them!” Jeff calls out, lugging the final cardboard box from his car into your apartment. He wipes his hands on his jeans and closes the door behind him, careful not to wake up his sleeping daughter in Viv’s arms. He looks over at where you, Robin, and Jess have begun unpacking, laying Eddie’s clothes in one pile and Harris’s much smaller clothes in another.

Jeff places a kiss on the crown of Viv’s head, then plants an identical one on Ettie’s. “Where are the guys?” 

“Harris’s room,” you say; bittersweet taste tinging the new label. It feels better than Grandma’s old room, but part of it will always belong to her. You hear Harris giggle as Eddie and Dustin re-assemble his racecar bed, spreading warmth that gently softens the sadness until it resembles sentimentality. “I’ll come with you; I have to put this away, anyway.” You grab the pile of Harris’s clothes and tuck it under your arm.

Eddie and Dustin sit on the floor, rogue screws spread around them as they intently study their project.

“I think this piece,” Dustin muses, picking up one of the sides of the frame, “connects with this one like that…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” He takes the screwdriver and twists the metal into the slot triumphantly. Your breath catches in your throat as his bicep flexes with the motion, perfectly displayed where his t-shirt sleeve had been cut into a makeshift tank top. “There we go.” He looks up and realizes you’re there, perfectly still as you watch him. “Hey, Sweetheart. Y’good?” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye; though it was inadvertent, he knows what he’s doing to you.

You only nod, the movement dragging you out of your momentary stupor. He chuckles as you place Harris’s shirts and pants in the dresser, fingers clumsily slipping over the knobs. It’s the same unicorn-covered dresser that had sent Harris into hysterics a few weeks ago, but you’d painted over it before he could see. It’s now a dark navy blue, no evidence of what once lay beneath.

Eddie’s amused by your reaction and subsequent embarrassment, running his tongue over his teeth and chuckling to himself, but his victory is short-lived.

“Hey, Casanova,” Dustin’s exasperated voice cuts in, pointing to the section Eddie just assembled, “you put the piece on upside down.”

Harris crinkles his nose. “What’s Casanova?”

Eddie buries his head in his hands as Dustin scrambles to explain. “It means your dad is trying to show off his handyman skills for your almost-mommy.” He winks in Eddie’s direction before leaning in and exaggeratedly whispering in Harris’s ear, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”

As soon as Harris distracts himself with setting up his toys, Eddie is saluting his friend with a quick flip of his middle finger.

You crouch down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry; I’m very impressed.” He blushes when you kiss his cheek. “Your uncle’s going to be here with dinner in a few minutes, if you burly men want to wash up.”

Eddie nods, turning to his friends and his son and speaking in a deep baritone. “You heard the woman! Let us refuel so we may regain our strength for hunting and other masculine activities.”

Harris’s brows pinch together in further confusion while you and Dustin share an eyeroll, but the three of you follow your fearless leader out of the room. Eddie lets the two of them pass and waits for you, sliding a coy hand in your back pocket and murmuring against your hair. “Man and woman make fire in bedroom later?” He continues using the deepened voice.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s…that’s not a no, though, right?”

The summer sun is still high in the sky when Wayne arrives at the apartment, three pizza boxes still warm in his palms. He’s barely able to put them on the table before Harris is racing towards him, ready to give a full report of the goings-on of his day. 

Jess sits at the table, baby Ettie laying in her arms while she gives Viv a break and feeds her from a bottle. You place a piece of pizza on the paper plate in front of her, and one in front of Robin, who adoringly watches her girlfriend dote on a baby. Wayne sits in the third seat, thanking you with his kind smile as you pass him a slice.

You join Eddie and Harris on the couch; Jeff plops down in the La-Z-Boy on the other side of the coffee table, motioning for Viv to sit atop his legs, while Dustin has seemingly been relegated to sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Uncle Dusty, come sit next to me!” Harris chirps, nearly knocking your plate out of your hand as he bounces onto your lap. His curls tickle your chin as he leans over to take a bite of his dinner, dragging the cheese halfway off of the crust before Eddie holds it in place. 

Dustin obliges, squishing in next to you with an apologetic laugh, but you don’t mind. Dialogue melds together, with people seamlessly leaping from one conversation to another. Robin poses the question of what everyone thinks Ettie’s first word will be, which prompts Wayne to tell the story about how Eddie tried so hard to get Harris to say dada, only for the boy to scream out “SHIT!” in the middle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 

Jeff looks across the room at his tiny daughter. “Please don’t let that be your first word,” he jokingly begs her, picking a greasy pepperoni piece from his slice and dropping it in his mouth. While he’s preoccupied, Viv steals a bite of the crust. 

“Are you all going to the July 4th carnival next week?” Eddie asks through a cheesy mouthful. 

Everyone except Dustin answers in the affirmative. “Flying back home tomorrow,” he says, a round of booing from the group forcing him to pause mid-statement, “but Suzie and I are—hey, not cool!” He swats at a crumpled napkin that Eddie lobs at his head. “Suzie and I are going to try and visit for my mom’s birthday in August,” he finishes with a pointed look. 

Harris tilts his head back so you can see straight into his flared nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart, you’re coming to the carnival with us, right?”

“Of course! What rides are we gonna go on?” you ask, his little feet kicking at your calves as joy flows through his body. 

“The Ferris Wheel! Me an’ Daddy always go on that, an’ now you can come with us!”

He and Eddie always go on the Ferris Wheel. It’s a tradition that they share, and now they’re allowing you in. Now you’re part of it. 

You smile, kissing his forehead in a celebration of belonging and delight. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” you agree. “Do you think Daddy will play the games and win a prize for us?”

Eddie groans at your suggestion. “Those booths are all rigged. Every last one of ‘em.”

“I dunno,” Jess says teasingly, wiping Ettie’s chin with a cloth bib, “I won a stuffed animal from the whack-a-mole last year—”

“Oh, yeah! And I beat the Test Your Strength one,” Jeff adds slyly, getting a rise out of proving Eddie wrong. 

Eddie throws his voice to a falsetto, mocking his friend’s words. “I beat the Test Your Strength one,” he echoes nasally, chuckling when Jeff scoops up the napkin previously thrown at Dustin and hurls it towards Eddie. 

The rest of the evening continues like this, silly banter and recalled stories that end up being cut short or watered down for the impressionable ears listening in. It’s love in its many forms: between partners, between parents and their children, between friends. Each peal of laughter, each shared smile, each memory made adds to its foundation; brick by brick, layer by layer. 

The pink hues of sunset darken to indigo and eventually settle into a night sky, the moon shining brightly and unobscured by clouds. Eddie, Jeff, and Dustin finally manage to put the race car bed back together—and just in time. Harris’s yawns become more frequent until he can no longer fight sleep, dozing off with his cheek pressed against your chest. Soft snores leave his slightly agape mouth. 

“I feel the same way,” Wayne jokes, standing up from his chair and stretching his back with a grimace. “It’s been a long day.”

The group nods in agreement, quietly gathering their belongings and saying good-bye. 

“Thank you all for helping today,” you say, handing out hugs while keeping Harris sound asleep. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake up, even with all of the commotion. “We really appreciate it.”

Eddie seconds your sentiment. “It means a lot to us. We know we owe you a lot more than just dinner—”

“You guys are family,” Viv interrupts with a smile, gently rocking a sleeping Ettie in her arms. “This is what family does.”

A calloused hand rests on your shoulder from behind the couch; you lean your head on Eddie’s forearm and give it a small kiss. The delicate hairs brush against your lips, and you relax into his touch.

Your guests file out, already making plans to meet up at the carnival. Eddie closes the door behind them, insisting that he can beat Jeff at the Test Your Strength and demanding that his friend buy him a funnel cake when he does.

There’s a soft murmuring coming from Harris’s room, and Eddie walks as quietly as he can. He watches silently, shoulder pressed against the doorframe, as you place his son’s head onto the pillow. The crisp sheet is draped over his sleeping body, followed by the Buzz Lightyear comforter you’d bought at Kmart especially for him. Harris stirs for a moment to grab onto the blankets, tugging them to his chin and scrunching up his legs to assume a cozier position. He lets out a content sigh and slips back into his dream.

“Good night, kiddo,” you whisper, kissing his mop of curls. You look around the room, so different from when it belonged to Grandma. It seems larger, his race car bed taking up much less space than her queen-size bed did. A Lego set lies where her shoe rack once stood. The top of his dresser is covered in Hot Wheels, rather than the makeup and jewelry that Grandma had on hers. 

But it’s a good kind of different, one that comes with the natural ebb and flow of life. It brings inevitable change, and it’s your choice whether to embrace it or run away.

“You’re a natural at this bedtime thing, y’know.” Eddie’s voice, low and soft, places you back in the moment. He holds his arms out for you to nestle into them, holding you as close as he can. His thumb caresses your shoulder blade. “It normally takes a couple of stories, half a dozen pee breaks, and a horse tranquilizer to get him down.”

“I think being completely exhausted from moving helped,” you laugh into his chest. “And I’m right there with him. Man and woman might have to postpone their fire-making.”

Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against you. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be my best performance. Wanna make this one really good, since it’s a special occasion and everything.” He closes Harris’s door and leads you to the bedroom you two now share. “We gotta christen this bad boy.”

“We’ve had sex on this bed a million times.” You recall the ways his lips traced over your body, eager to memorize every inch of skin. 

“But that’s when it was only your bed,” he points out. “Now it’s ours.”

Ours. Our bed, our home, our family. Ours. 

You can barely change into pajamas before you’re falling asleep; Eddie manages to slip off his jeans and shirt, clad in plaid boxers and nothing else, before crashing down into the bed you now share. His arm slips around your waist, fingers reflexively dancing up your shirt, while he buries his head in the nape of your neck. 

When daylight breaks and the sun streams through the gaps in the blinds, Eddie has assumed a starfish position, blankets flung to the edge of the bed in what must have been a middle-of-the-night move. You’re still dozing, but he knows he has to wake you if he wants to sneak in some alone time before his son wakes up.

“Morning, gorgeous.” His breath tickles under your earlobe, pulling you close to him. You hum, not quite awake but no longer dreaming. “C’mon, wake up, pretty thing.” He licks his lips before kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder blades. 

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you turn over and face him. Your mouth lazily finds his, the cotton fabric of your pajama top fisted in his grasp. The outline of his morning wood is visible through his boxer shorts; it presses into your thigh as though greedily searching for your warmth. “You always wake up this hard?” you tease, fingertips already fiddling with the worn elastic waistband and dipping towards the treasure beneath. The scruff of his pubic hair grazes your knuckles. 

“Only when I dream of you,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you while shedding his only clothing article. The boxers fall to the floor unceremoniously. 

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.” Both hands cup your cheeks; you expect him to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Love waking up next to you.”

It draws a memory of the first morning you’d spent together; an inadvertent sleepover that culminated in one poorly-crafted lie and two broken hearts. He looks at you now, tired and yet still beautiful. How could I have let her slip by? How did I almost miss all of this?

You take the lead this time, arching your back so your torso melds into his, connected by desire. Eddie has your tank top off in a heartbeat, tongue swiping over your nipples the instant they’re visible. 

“Perfect,” Eddie groans, making his way down your abdomen. He places your legs on top of his shoulders, lips delicately fluttering over your clit so he can lick a broad stripe up your labia. “I know we should be having a quickie, but I can’t turn down breakfast in bed.” His face is buried in your pussy, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory. 

You giggle at his phrasing. If you question it, you know he’ll make a comment about you being good enough to eat. You give in instead, letting him ravish you just the way you both crave. 

One finger, then two, slip into your waiting cunt while his mouth focuses on your clit. You’re dripping with your arousal and his saliva; you bite your lower lip to stifle the noises begging to be heard. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you croak, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m so close, s-so close…”

Eddie says nothing, continuing to worship the taste of you. You can feel his victorious smile as you cry out his name in orgasmic bliss, toes flexing just as he brings you down from the high. 

“Need you, fuckin’ Christ,” he breathes, tempering the stimulation pulsing through his cock with a few short tugs. 

You nod, already electrified at the prospect of being split open on him. He sinks into you with a muted moan, savoring the way you envelop him within your warmth. “All mine, Sweetheart; you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” you manage. Your fingernails dig into his upper back with a force that will surely leave crescent indents in his skin. “I’m all yours. Always will be.”

His thumb runs along your jaw and he smiles. She’s all mine.

The ridges of his dick form a delectable friction along your walls. Each thrust is a mutual give and take, an exchanging of selves with every breath. 

“I love you.” Eddie’s impossibly beautiful like this, hands holding your hips steady while sweat drips from his forehead onto yours. He brings your fourth finger between his lips; you can feel his tongue claiming it as his own. “And I’m gonna put a ring on this pretty little finger of yours, okay? Just want it to be perfect for you.”

You weave your fingers into his sleep-mussed curls and kiss him. “Don’t need perfect. I’ll marry you without a ring.” Whatever elaborate fairytale wedding you’d been crafting in your head is suddenly wholly unnecessary; all that matters is that you and Eddie commit to one another. But you know him well enough to not question his devotion to you. If Eddie Munson wants to give you the proposal of a lifetime, then that’s what he’s going to do. 

There will be no unkept promises this morning, no shattered hearts to mend.

He can’t hold back any longer, spilling into you with punctuating grunts. You receive every last drop gratefully, a part of him within you, and you finish for the second time today. 

“I meant it.” He gently withdraws from inside you, both of you mourning the loss of the other’s body. “When I said I’m gonna marry you, I meant it.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Eddie grins, laying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Sweat glistens along the sparse hairs curling over his bare chest. “Are you hungry? I know I worked up an appetite.”

You kiss his nose, biting the end teasingly. He yelps in mock pain, so you kiss it again. “I am, but I have to be honest—between all the unpacking and sex, I don’t have the energy to make breakfast.” 

“Me neither,” he admits with a laugh. “Why don’t we shower, wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges his head towards Harris’s room, “and go to the diner.” He stretches and stands, eyes drawn to the nightstand, where the framed photo from Wayne leans against a porcelain lamp. Happiness captured with the click of a Kodak.

You’re smiling, thinking about sharing silver dollar pancakes with Harris again just like you used to do with Grandma. Somewhere along the way, you grew from the child to the adult in that scenario, passing on a tradition you never even knew had been started. 

“That sounds amazing.” As you say it aloud, something in addition to hunger gnaws at your stomach. You’ve been putting it off, hiding from the truth, but you want to stop pretending. You want to feel everything that comes with accepting reality. Without sorrow, you would never recognize joy. Without grief, you won’t understand the depths of our love beyond the physical plain. 

“Could we make a quick pit stop first?”

Though it’s still morning, the late June humidity has your shirt clinging to you, sweat beading along the collar and around your bra clasp. You close the car door behind you; Eddie shuffles to open the back door for Harris. The little boy unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the booster seat, glancing between you and his dad. You take his left hand and Eddie takes his right as you walk over to the stone. 

“Hi, Grandma,” you whisper, crouching down to better see the engraving. Gently, your fingers dance over the etched words: Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. “I know I haven’t been by to visit you yet, but I’m here now.” You muster up a small smile. “And I brought Eddie and Harris with me. They…they loved you, too.”

You falter for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eddie’s hand rubs your upper back, not caring about how perspiration-soaked it is. 

“Do you want some privacy?” he murmurs. “Harris and I can wait by the car. You take as long as you need.”

You nod, watching them walk hand in hand to give you your space to grieve. Filling your lungs with a deep breath, you speak what’s been in your heart. 

“I need to thank you,” you start, talking directly to where her name is engraved, “for a lot of things. But I guess, um, the most important is how you taught me to forgive without taking shit—can I swear in a cemetery?—from people.” Your laugh is heavy with the weight of remembrance. 

“I miss you. A lot,” you continue, tears now spilling freely from your eyes. “I miss doing puzzles together. I miss cooking together. I’m going to try and make your applesauce for Thanksgiving this year. I think Harris will really like it.” You swallow thickly. “If you’d met him before you got sick, you would’ve adored him. He’s got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met.”

You’re finding it easier to talk; everything you need to say is coming naturally and without hesitation. 

“He’s…he’s living in your room. I guess, technically, it’s his room now. But a little part of me will always consider it your room, too. And I think that’s okay.” You nod, confirming to yourself that it’s all part of the process. “He keeps asking me and Eddie when we’re going to get married. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering the same thing.” You smile at the thought of marrying Eddie, maybe even legally adopting Harris, if that’s something they also want. “I’m not in a rush, though, but I really do believe that Eddie’s the one. He’s my person, and I’m his. So, yeah, I’m definitely hoping that he proposes sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I always thought losing you wouldn’t be as hard as it was, because it felt like I had already lost you to dementia.” It feels silly to admit aloud, but it’s the truth. “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be easy. But I promise, I’ll stop by more often, and I’ll have plenty of cute Harris stories to tell you.”

There’s just a bit more that you need to share before you can go. “I love you, Grandma. And…thank you for loving me, too.”

You stand up, pressing on your knees to ensure your balance. Taking one last look at the stone, you run your fingers over the jagged marble and turn back towards Eddie and Harris.

The little boy is perched on his father’s hip, squinting into the sunlight to make out your form. “You ready, Ms. Sweetheart?”

You blink through misty eyes, staring at the two people in front of you. Ten months ago, if someone had told you that your one-night stand at a dive bar would end up being the love of your life, you would have laughed in their face. But the universe does what it must to remain in balance, and it doesn’t humor any arguments.

Inhale, exhale, repeat. This is where you’re meant to be. This is who you’re meant to be: a partner, a friend, an almost-mommy.

“Yeah,” you say finally, the tears clearing from your vision and a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I’m ready.”

--

💚

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[billskeis]

i quickly thought of this after watching a porno and needed to get it out.

ᡣ𐭩 loser virgin bill and his experienced gf

“a-and you’re sure you’re okay with this..?” he stutters as you’re already opening your mouth, drooling at the pretty cock in front of your face, mushroom tip leaking with pre. you stop and just look at bill, whose thighs tremble in nervousness but anticipation as you talked about giving bill a blowjob.

“of course i am! wouldn’t have gone this far if i wasn’t, hm?” you lean your head to rest on one of bill’s thighs looking up at him as he sits upright on the edge of his bed, propped on his elbows as you sit on your knees placed right between his legs. “o-okay..” smiling brightly at the boy in front of you.

sticking out your tongue, wet with drool from how you’re salivating. you’ve been waiting for this moment forever, the right time to finally pounce. from simply hanging out and watching movies in his bedroom, you pulled up with the ‘can i suck you off?’ question, leaving bill in complete and utter shock. and to your surprise, he said yes.

bill has no experience. whatsoever. its so cute. he gets all shy and flustered whenever you make an advance on him. holding his hips, kissing his neck, whispering dirty things into his ears. he’s never known what it’s like to cum. never masturbated in his life. never seen porn before. he’s never fucking seen a tit or pussy, period.

this excites you to the max. you can’t help but physically get wet at the thought of taking your boyfriend’s virginity and corrupting him. and here you are, about to make it happen. you lick up the length of bill’s cock, he whimpers, it’s high pitch and nasally. fucking delicious, you thought.

“ahhnn, y-y/n..” “shhhh baby just let me do all’tha work mmkay?” he nods feverishly, gripping the sheets as you work your tongue along the shaft of his penis. feeling it throb against the flat of your tongue, you moan, propping both your hands on each of his thighs as you hold them wider and begin to bring your whole mouth to the tip of his cock.

engulfing it, you swirl your tongue around the head, ensuring that you lick up alllll the precum that gloops out. “oohh.. f-fuck..” you kitten lick at his cock and look at him, smirking as his dick stays in your mouth, “feelsh’good?” as you talk with his dick in your mouth, bill can’t help but shudder at the erotic scene in front of him. is this what porn is like?

“ja.. my tummy feels nice..” bless his heart. “does it now?” and before he could speak, you go down, bobbing your head up and down his thick length as you motion your tongue to continuously run against the flesh of his cock, feeling every vein that decors his member, cupping his balls in your hands as you fondle them.

“eek! schatzi! no! please!” bill’s legs attempt to clamp close as he tries to bring your head up from his cock, overstimulated from the sudden pleasure of a blowjob. he’s sooo sensitive.. but it’s his fault! how can someone so cute never have gotten a blowjob?? you feel honoured to be his first, and you wanna make sure it’s the best and last he’s ever had.

you swat away at his feeble attempts to escape from you. sucking even harder, you’re hollowing out your cheeks and stick your tongue out deeper to make sure you don’t gag, deep-throating him. his tip hits the back of your throat leading you to moan at the sensation. bill can only moan, mouth formed into an O shape as the rest of his body falls against the bed, there’s no winning with you and he’s given up on trying to stop you.

the sounds are nasty, lewd, wet, and squelchy as you blow off your boyfriend, occasionally stopping to pay extra attention to the head of bill’s cock, his favourite spot. you can tell it’s his favourite because he get’s especially whiny when you do.

“y/n..! y/n baby please stop ‘m gonna pee.. please!!” but you don’t. you don’t understand the concept of stopping because you’ve already gone this far. but bill doesn’t understand that he’s not actually gonna ‘pee.’ how silly of him x3! such a naive boy..

as much as he wants you to stop. he feels shooo good. he’s just too shy to actually admit it, feeling like a complete loser for moaning and whimpering like a bitch in heat cause it’s his first blowjob. he hates how much more experienced you are than him. he wants to make you feel good too! but that’s a discussion for a later time.

as you suckle on the tip, bill finally sees white. breathing extremely heavy, his moans are caught in his throat and they come out as cries. his thighs shake and tremble as he paints your throat walls a creamy white. you milk him, ensuring to suck out every drop of cum from him. it’s delicious, you love the taste. it’s even tastier coming from bill, an addicting ambrosia that you can’t wait to get more of.

latching off bill’s cock with a ‘pop!’ you lick at the cum that formed on the flesh of your lips, relishing in the taste. smirking at your boyfriend, you giggle at how he can’t look at you, eyes darting to everywhere in the room but you. that is, until you cup his face to look at you and place a kiss to his lips.

you dart your tongue to enter his mouth, assaulting his own. tasting himself, he cringes at the taste of his own cum. you like this? he moans into the kiss, not knowing where to place them, holding himself up on the bed instead as you now sit in his lap. as you part lips with him, bill snuggles his head into your chest, now hugging you. “you okay? how was it?” “felt s’good.. i want more..”

petting his hair, you can’t help but laugh at how cute he is. you get up from his lap to grab the tv remote from the floor, movie finished from your previous session. reaching for it from over the bed, bill gasps as he stares at you in front of him, ass up with your skirt all ridden up to reveal the wet patch on your panties. you’re soaked from just sucking him off. “y-y/n.. you’re.. um, i-i—”

“hmm? oh! ‘s all your fault billy.. now come fix it..”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp #billskeis

[jqngkooz]

tis the damn season’ (2) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+ (no smut in this chapter just a makeout scene 🙈)

genre: f2l? more like idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut

warnings: infidelity and just general bad decision making skills lmao, jealousy, arguing, swearing, one mention of a dick, kissing, making out. jk’s a bit of a player but he has his reasons.

w/c: 3.2k

a/n: pt.2 is here!!!! so sorry it took a while. enjoy :)

summary: When Jimin convinces you to spend christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your entire friend group, you’re forced to face the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for your best friend Jungkook after all these years.

“I must say, you’re the most stable person I know and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you crumble like this.” Yoongi is kind enough to be up at 6 am with Jungkook, making him coffee as he sits at the kitchen island with his head on the cold surface.

He spent the whole night tossing and turning next to the girl he’d stupidly invited in an attempt to not seem like a loser to you. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same way, that was evident by the fact that you almost married another man and still didn’t even reach out when you broke the engagement off. He just didn’t want you to think he was a loser who had spent the last three months sulking. He had.

“I know, I’m a mess,” Jungkook starts, face pressed into the table, “and she’s nice, Isabelle I mean, and I like her…”

Yoongi places the cup of coffee next to Jungkook and finishes his sentence for him, “But she’s not y/n.”

It’s weird. In senior year Jungkook had gotten a girlfriend. She was a cheerleader with a swishy ponytail that had latched onto your friend group, always wanting to be around him. You’d gotten weirdly distant at that time, cancelling your after-school study sessions only for him to find out you were doing them with Jimin instead. It’s like sometimes he got the feeling that you didn’t want him to be with other people and that gave him hope that you might have felt the same, but you never told him. No angry love confessions in the rain, nothing. You never made a move. And it messed with his head until he felt dizzy and utterly confused about just what the hell you wanted.

“Did you invite her here just to make y/n jealous?” Namjoon’s voice booms a little too loud as he comes down the stairs and into the kitchen, causing Jungkook to sit up and wince.

He sighs, “Yes, well- no not exactly.”

“Then why?”

He looks up at Namjoon who looks slightly disappointed and his heart pangs a little, suddenly feeling like that 15-year-old who would do anything for Joon’s approval again.

He groans, “I thought she’d be mad and ignore me or something.”

Namjoon shakes his head, he knows you would never.

“I just thought if I brought another girl she’d think that I moved on and we could just go back to being normal again.”

Jungkook looks up at Yoongi as if he’s checking for approval, he’s met with a very disapproving stare. Yoongi sighs, “Jungkook, are you stupid?”

He frowns, big round eyes staring at Yoongi. “No?” Maybe he was, waiting 10 years to tell you he loved you when it was far too late was kind of stupid.

“She loves you, you realise that right?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yeah I know b-”

Yoongi cuts him off, “No, not as a friend idiot. She loves you.” He shakes his head rapidly.

“You know she messaged me every week asking how you were after you fell out? She made me send pictures of you and Bam because she missed you. Jungkook, you put her in an awkward situation, she was engaged. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t feel the same way. You never asked her how she felt, did you?”

Taehyung knows Jungkook like the back of his hand. He knows that his guilty pleasure is chilli cheese fries, he remembers a time in college when that was all he ate for an entire week. He knows that Jungkook unwinds on a weekend by watching crappy reality tv because he caught him one time before he could change the channel. He also knows that Jungkook doesn’t like losing. And that’s how he knows this plan will work.

Truthfully, Tae has always been flirty with you. He’s flirty with everyone, but you usually laugh him off, never taking his compliments seriously. That’s why Jungkook’s a little confused at your sudden interest in him. All day you’ve been clinging to him and laughing at his jokes like he’s the funniest guy in the world. Jungkook knows he’s not that funny. Even now as you all attempt to build snowmen in the cabin’s garden you both look like something out of a hallmark movie, all bundled up with hats and scarves as you throw snowballs at each other.

It’s Seokjin who notices Jungkook’s frown as he stands next to his snowman watching you and Tae.

“Why is your snowman buff?”

Jungkook breaks his gaze away from you two, turning to Seokjin. He can still hear your giggles as Tae shoves snow down the back of your coat and chases you with another lump of it that’s probably big enough to knock you out.

He shrugs, “Wanted it to look like me. Why does yours have a dick?”

“Wanted it to look like me.” Seokjin remarks, eliciting probably Jungkook’s first smile today. “What’s got you all frowny?”

Jungkook shakes his head, the tassels on his woolly hat shaking with him, “Ah, nothing.”

“Does that ‘nothing’ have to do with those two?”

Now his attention’s back on you again. You’re far too close to Taehyung’s face, brushing snow off of his cheeks and apologising, saying you hadn’t meant to actually get him in the face.

“Just didn’t know they were that close.”

“They’re not usually.”

It’s when you come jogging towards Jungkook and Seokjin that the conversation stops. You’re a little out of breath from all the running as you stand in front of them, admiring Jungkook’s snowman with a smile.

“Always the perfectionist. Mine’s already fallen apart. How is yours so stable?” You laugh.

“I dunno.” He answers, unusually sharply and it has you turning to look at him with a cock of your head.

“Everything okay?”

That’s Seokjin’s cue to leave and he busies himself with trying to kick Jimin’s work of art down.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” He doesn’t know where to look and settles on his shoes. At least they’re not boring into his soul like your eyes are right now.

“Okay yeah, I don’t know. Just checking.” You smile again as if you truly have no idea why he seems upset. Of course you do, yours and Tae’s whole act is painfully obvious to everyone else in the cabin, but Jungkook isn’t exactly the most rational thinker when it comes to you. “Where’s Isabelle?”

“Oh, she’s uh, inside. She doesn’t like snow.”

You frown, “Who doesn’t like snow?”

He shrugs, finally looking up at you.

“I think my toes are gonna freeze off if I’m out here any longer. I’m gonna go warm up so I’ll check up on her.” You add.

No. That’s the worst thing that could happen. You and Isabelle alone? Talking? She’d surely tell you that she wasn’t actually Jungkook’s girlfriend, just a casual hook-up and that she has no real idea why he invited her. He shudders at the thought.

“So you’re not dating?”

Once you’d pressed yourself up against the heater until your fingers gained some colour again and double-layered on fresh socks, you padded down the stairs to find Isabelle sitting on the couch alone.

“No. He made it very clear it was nothing more than sex for him, which is fine, but I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore, in life you know?”

You nod. Isabelle is lovely, she’s sweet and gentle and you’re sure you would have been friends in another life if she wasn’t fucking the guy you’d been pining over for years.

“And I guess I’m a little confused. When I brought up getting more serious he avoided the conversation and things got awkward. Then he invites me here, it’s all a little confusing. I don’t wanna talk badly about him, I know he’s your best friend and he’s a great guy but- I feel like he’s messing with me.”

“Isabelle, this is our first conversation and I can already tell how good of a person you are. I care about Jungkook too but you’d be crazy to think that hook-ups are all you deserve,” You sigh, “If you want something more, go and find someone willing to give you that.”

And you truly mean that. Sure, you’d had conversations with his past girlfriends like this, and maybe those times you had an ulterior motive when you advised them to go and find someone else, but seeing her sit in front of you so vulnerable, you mean it this time.

She nods, “I’m well into my 20’s, I’ve never had a serious relationship and I want it. I want kids one day. I want it all. How do you do it?”

That makes you laugh.

“Not very successfully. I was engaged, for a while. I broke it off a few months ago. He was a nice guy, he was stable and he was always there, but I never had that feeling you know? That teenage excitement. I never felt that with him.”

Well, that’s not entirely untrue. He never did give you that electric feeling that you’ve always been searching for, you just leave out that only Jungkook seems to give it to you. You’d had endless arguments with Mark where he’d pressed you to just tell him why you weren’t putting your whole heart into it. He could always tell that he was far more invested than you were, and he knew the reason why. He knew exactly what, or who, was stopping you from fully committing to him. He hadn’t blamed you as you left him, he understood that you just don’t pick who you love.

When everyone starts piling in from the garden, you excuse yourself into helping an almost frozen Taehyung warm up.

Jungkook can’t bear the sight. You carefully take off Tae’s hat and scarf as you rub his arms in an attempt to warm him up while he watches you far too lovingly. He’d rather retreat upstairs to his room and let his head spin with the image of you and Tae and the worry of what you and Isabelle had been talking about while he slips further and further into madness. He doesn’t expect you to follow though, bumping into you in the hallway.

“Hey,” you start, “can we talk?”

“About what?” He’s still pulling on a fresh sweater as you stand in front of him in the quiet hallway. All the noise of the house is coming from downstairs and he worries you can hear his heartbeat in the quiet up here.

“What are you doing with Isabelle?”

That catches him off guard and he frowns down at you. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair messing with her like that? I’m only saying this as your friend, she’s such a nice girl. What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating?”

You cross your arms. It’s one of his more frustrating traits, pretending he doesn’t understand when he doesn’t want to talk about something.

“Jungkook.” You deadpan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t understand why you’re interfering with my love life. I don’t know what she said to you but what we have right now is working perfectly fine.”

You scoff, loudly. How very rich of him, to criticise you for interfering when that’s all he’s done to you your whole life, interfere with every guy you’ve ever liked. “Seriously? You wanna talk about interfering?”

He laughs dryly, looking away from you. He knows you’re right. All he can do is attempt to deflect.

“I didn’t interfere with you and Mark. I never did, I told you how I felt. It’s different.”

“What and you think I was able to just carry on after that confession? You think I brushed that off like it was nothing?”

“Sure seemed like it.”

Now he’s just being hurtful, and he knows it. He can see it in your eyes. Whenever he’s mean to you, you get a look. Eyes glossy and eyebrows peaked in confusion.

“That’s not fair Jungkook.”

“What’s fair about any of this?” His voice is louder now and you pray everyone downstairs isn’t listening in on the conversation, especially not the girl he brought here. “What was fair about you turning me away that night? Do you think it was easy for me to see you with him? It was fucking horrible, okay? I hated every second you were with him. Now today you’re hanging off of Tae’s arm. So excuse me if I’m not being fair, I’m not exactly having a nice time right now.”

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you mentally scold yourself for being so damn emotional. You know he can see right through you right now. He stands with a hand on his hip, looking like he’s mad at you and you hate it. You hate it so much that your face tells him just how much you hate it.

He continues, a little softer this time, “I just mean that maybe I’m not exactly over what happened, okay? You didn’t even hear me out. You dropped me from your life. That’s hard to get over and I’m- I don’t know.”

“I had to drop you Jungkook. There was no chance of me having a successful relationship with you in my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re exasperated now, frustrated that you have to spell everything out for him. This time your voice is louder. “God, every single boyfriend I’ve ever had has hated you. You have literally ruined all of my relationships and you don’t even realise it. I couldn’t physically bring myself to commit to anybody with you looming over me, always like a damn question mark in my head, okay?”

Truthfully, he had no idea you felt like that. He’s always been pretty poor at picking up on hints and cues and he completely missed that. He always felt that you meant so much more to him than he meant to you. You went about your life and your relationships just fine while he sat at home and yearned for you, that’s what he had thought up until now.

“What?” Is all he can manage.

“How am I supposed to be with other people when you’re always a possibility? As soon as I think I’m finally over you, you come back and-”

“Over me?” He steps towards you, like a reflex at your words. “What do you mean over me?”

“You know what I mean.” You’re practically whispering now. It’s somehow embarrassing to be so vulnerable and you feel even more sympathy towards the Jungkook who turned up at your door and confessed to you now that you’re in his place.

“You never even told me you liked me, now you’re telling me you’re over me?”

“How could I tell you Jungkook? I was engaged.”

His head is a complete mess, spinning and cartwheeling.

“You’re telling me that that night, when I told you I loved you, you didn’t turn me away because you didn’t feel the same?”

“No!” You shake your head, “I thought it was so obvious, how was it not obvious to you? I turned you away because breaking one guy's heart was easier than breaking two. If I told you I felt the same, Mark would have left. That’s why I had to leave him because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair being with him when I’m in love with someone else, okay?”

He’s completely silent. Just staring down at you. There’s a lot he wants to say, years and years worth of things, but his brain can’t even string two words together. Maybe he is stupid, but he never thought that you felt the same. Of course, he considered it a possibility, but a far-fetched one. Hearing you say that you love him doesn’t even feel real, he’s not even sure if he’s awake right now.

“You love me?”

“Yes. And you’ve moved on and I know that’s my fault because I missed my chance to tell you I felt the same but-”

He cuts off your rambling, “I haven’t. Moved on I mean. Not at all.”

“You invited a girl. Obviously, you have, and that’s fine.”

Now he has that desperate look again, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes dart across your face. “We’re not serious. I’m in love with someone else.”

It’s your turn for your head to spin. Sure, he’d said it once before, but you never expected he’d still feel the same way. It’s weird, how you two always seem to pull together. No matter how bad of a time it is, it’s like you can’t stay away from each other. Even now with your faces inches apart, you’re spiked with the horrible feeling that you’re doing something bad. Even if he’s not serious with her, it’s not right for her to be sitting downstairs while he’s up here with you, yet again confessing his love.

“What’s going on with you and Taehyung?” He says quietly.

You reply far too quickly, “Nothing. Was trying to make you jealous.”

That’s enough for him and he steps impossibly closer again. He sucks in a sharp breath, looking down at your face as if he’s weighing up whether or not this is a bad decision. The little devil on his shoulder wins because he’s grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. It’s hungry and desperate the way he kisses you like he can’t bear not being on your lips for a second longer. You melt into him as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. You can taste just how sweet this moment is and you savour every second of his vulnerability.

“Bad idea” You mumble onto his lips as his hands move from your face to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you flush against him.

“Don’t care.” He replies, pulling back for a second to catch his breath. You pull him back in, afraid that if he has even a second to think this through you might lose him, but he kisses like he wouldn’t dream of letting you go. He lets none of you go to waste and it’s a dance of tangled breaths as he finally softens, slowing down a little. He pulls away again, looking at you for a while before planting a small kiss on your mouth, pulls away, and plants another one. You feel winded, you’re out of breath, your lips a little swollen and your chest heaves slowly with an endearing warmth that you swear you’ve never felt before. It’s Jimin calling your name from the bottom of the stairs that makes you both jump and pull away from each other.

“We should probably go down.” He breathes out, scratching the back of his head. It’s so charming, how he kisses you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have and almost immediately regresses into his shy self the minute he pulls away. His cheeks are dusted red and his lips are covered with your pink, smudged around his mouth and down his chin a little.

“You have lipstick all over you.” You point out, giggling quietly.

“Oh shit. Get it off.”

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #fanfic #fanfiction

[thedevilspearl]

➛ out of office hours

a/n: been craving a ceo!luci for so long so i decided to write it myself and i’m in love with him >_< am also thinking about him falling in love with you and i just—! <333333

tags: 4.2k words, ceo!lucifer x secretary!reader, female reader, dom!lucifer, oral sex (male and female receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside, ass slapping, degradation, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation. minors do not interact!

you always felt the need for professionalism in your role as a secretary. especially with a boss as hot as yours.

he was terrifying at first, you will admit that. but having the raven–haired man bare down at you with those unruly eyes was the most exciting thing about the job. from the beginning, he watched you closely, his gaze raking up and down your form, taking in the way you do things so perfectly.

your profession is simple enough; organising files, preparing his documents, reading and directing e–mails and scheduling all of lucifer’s appointments are the routine kind of things you do.

but every now and then, a splash of wild colour enters the monotonous life as a secretary, and you find yourself on your knees beneath your cold and grumpy boss.

“that’s it,” lucifer sighs. “just like that.”

today was a world–wind of emotions for both you and lucifer. as the ceo, he is bound to have days filled with stress. and on those days, your bound to feel it tenfold as you are the one doing all of the work behind the scenes, supporting him as best you can.

through all the excessively long and draining meetings and the ruthlessly hectic business environment, you both managed to make it back in the office, despite it being late into the evening, long after business had closed for the day.

he finishes up some work on his computer, work you will need to catch up on later, and hums from the warmth of your mouth running up and down his cock. he relaxes into his chair, no longer paying attention to his screen and looks down at you tucked snugly under his desk.

squeezed in the space between his thighs, you forge eye contact with him as he brushes his hair back with slender fingers, revealing a slightly sweaty forehead and reddened cheeks.

you’re aware of how hard he tries to maintain the classic ceo persona — an emotionless robot who cares only for money and power — but when he’s with you, when he’s fucking you and using you and allowing you to use him how you please….it’s a marvel, to say the least.

his blush is enhanced with the ruby glimmers in his irises but the dark, lustful entity behind those eyes spur you on.

a mixture of whispery groans and praises escape him and you take it as your signal to suck in harder, then to tease him by pulling back and swirling your tongue around his cock, paying extra attention to his sensitive tip before taking him whole in your mouth again.

“mmh….fuck, keep doing it like that.” he orders and you obey.

you wonder if the pleasure you thrust upon him is what takes his moodiness away. seeing him slip into his relaxed self, his greedy and self–indulgent self while he gets off on your mouth is surely a sight no one else would see.

as far as you know, you’re the only one who does these things with him.

not that it’s an exclusive relationship, but lucifer has expressed he would only do such things with people he trusts and you happen to be one of them. conveniently, the only one he has regular access to.

and that’s how this situation began.

it’s rare, but every now and then when either of you need relief, you use each other. there are rules in place, of course. there always are with a man like lucifer.

the typical things like no strings attached and no kissing.

but your least favourite rule is no fucking.

feelings, kissing and fucking: all three of them would decimate the professional boundaries you have in place.

but that’s not to say you don’t have fun without all of that.

using your hands and mouths on each other is satisfying enough. and the opportunity to even look at lucifer’s cock, let alone suck him dry, is more akin to a blessing.

the feel of his cock in your mouth will never grow old. you hollow your cheeks, sucking harder and humming so the vibrations can send waves of pleasure up his cock and into his body. he twitches, rutting his hips into you, no longer restraining himself.

his hand plants itself into you scalp, using your head as he pleases until hot cum blasts into your mouth and his hips stutter between your lips. you watch with wide eyes as his face contorts in pleasure, and you feel your panties grow more soaked in your arousal.

you had already removed your shoes and blazer, but while you swallow the remnants of lucifer’s cum, you unbutton your shirt and kick off your skirt, leaving your bra and panties for him to remove. he steadily reaches behind you, not breaking eye contact, and unclasps your bra.

his dark orbs finally move away from yours, only to remain stuck on you breasts and perky nipples. you don’t miss the swipe of tongue across his lips; he’s hungry.

pulling him from his trance, you work on his own shirt, unbuttoning and pulling it from him with zeal. he meets your eagerness by pushing you down on his desk, tracing his fingers over your ankles and up your calves. he leaves kisses along the inside of your thighs, promising to go further.

and when he reaches the apex, he chuckles softly at the soaked stain leaking through your panties. you bare your wetness proudly, and his cock twitches knowing it’s all due to him. one chaste kiss over your panties causes you to quiver and a moment later, your panties are ripped from you.

your pussy glistens in the dimmed light of his office and your boss, who is a man with little time, wastes none when it comes to devouring you.

his hot mouth collides with your already burning pussy and you whine wantonly. he slobbers all over you, mixing your arousal with his own saliva before sucking it all back into his mouth. his tongue tickles between your folds, swiping up and down and swirling circles at the top where your most sensitive part hides.

and just when your clit is ready to explode with pleasure and send it adrift throughout your body, he smacks harsh, wet kisses on your lips, sucking and nibbling like his life depends on it.

“fuck! lucifer!” you squeal. “please make me cum!”

he buries his head deep between your thighs and you lock him in. you yearn for release and grind your hips into his face, to which he responds by licking and sucking your pussy with more vigour. and as you rock your pussy on his face, the pleasure builds up and explodes in an electrifying burst.

ripples of exultation flood your body, nourishing your flesh with the meaning of true bliss; a cause for you nerves to jubilate and rejoice. sparks dance along your skin and lucifer pulls away, gasping between your trembling thighs with his face glossed over from your pussy.

he kisses his way up slowly, leaving marks on your stomach and giving special attention to your breasts. he eyes you as he takes each nipple one after the other, and sucks. falling onto your elbows, you throw your head back and attempt to catch your breath, but lucifer makes that difficult as his lips snake up the skin of your neck and capture your lips in his own.

the sweet taste of your essence coats your tongue, but what surprises you more is how casual lucifer’s lips feel against yours. it’s the first kiss you’ve shared, yet it feels like you’ve kissed him a million times before, like he’s the only man you should ever kiss.

tiny cracks appear in the set of rules. he shouldn’t have kissed you, and you most certainly should not be kissing him back.

but you wrap your arms around his shoulders, silently telling him you are fine with this. more than fine, actually. you would rather die than move away from him now.

wrapped so closely together, embraced in each other’s lips and arms, it feels like it should be no other way.

his tongue reaches in and toys with yours in a playful fight for dominance and you hope this forbidden kiss could last forever, but you pull back slight when his cock rubs against your sensitive clit.

a single look to him to ask what he is doing earns a single look from him, signifying what he wants next.

you shouldn’t.

you absolutely should not do this.

but no matter how many times you remind yourself how wrong it is in these few short moments, your body speaks for itself and you nod. lucifer’s shoulders visibly relax, as if he was scared you would say no.

you can’t feel guilty about this, not when lucifer wants it as much as you. he strokes his cock, eyes furrowed from the battle waging in his mind. he’s as conflicted as you, but in times like this, he is hopeless in the fight against his lust.

“are you sure you want this?”

“yes,” you gasp. “are you?”

“i wouldn’t have gotten this far if i didn’t.”

you hesitate for a moment, but he assures you with his charming words, whether they speak the truth or otherwise.

“you needn’t worry about the repercussions. this is purely for stress relief.”

you’re sure the sinking feeling in your chest is a bad sign, knowing it hurts that all of this is just for the release of pent up stress. but still, your body is greedy enough to bury that bitter hesitance deep down and replace it with more lust.

“then stop talking and do it,” you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer so his cock prods your entrance. “don’t take your time with me, lucifer. i’m not a patient woman.”

his softness is gone instantaneously and like a flash of lightening, you are shocked by how quickly he can switch from his relaxed and vulnerable side to his authoritative and commanding façade.

“you ought to show more respect to your boss,” he leans down, close enough for his lips to graze your ear. “you’ve forgotten your manners.”

“i hardly think manners are necessary. with this, at least.”

“hm, well, you see,” he taunts. “i won’t give you anything unless you ask for it nicely. and you’re not a patient woman, so how long are you going to wait for it?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. you’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, hoping lucifer would hop straight into fucking you senseless. but you forgot how much of a control freak he is, and how everything happens his way or it doesn’t happen at all.

you hoped the lenience and generosity he has for you would work in your favour, but apparently not.

“i don’t need to ask again,” he warns. “tell me what you want and say please.”

you bite your lip, glaring at him daringly but a single stern look puts you in your place and speaking the words you both desperately need to hear.

“please, i want you to fuck me.”

he stares you dead in the eye as he utters another order.

“say it again.”

“please, lucifer,” you whine. “fuck me, please!”

in a moment’s turn, he flips you so your feet touch the ground and his large hand on your lower back pushes you into the edge of his desk, while the other lines his cock with your sopping entrance.

he slips in, teasing you and earning a moan as he slowly rocks his hips, entering you further with each roll of his hips.

you push your body against him, and his cock digs further into your pussy. you keep rocking, both in unison until his cock is deep enough for you to scream his name.

“lucifer—ah!”

your squeal is cut short when he ruts into you again, slamming his hips against your ass and groaning from the tight warmth of your pussy enveloping his aching cock.

both of you are so lost in the wonders of each other’s body that the abrupt, high–pitched chiming almost goes unnoticed.

shrill ringing of the telephone on lucifer’s desk threatens to dampen the mood. but lucifer’s cock has only just entered and you’re not far away from the best part of the night. to hell with the phone call, lest it disturb your secret pleasure time with your boss.

“what are you waiting for?” lucifer rubs your hips with a subtle but notable thrust of his own. “aren’t you going to answer it?”

“what—ah?!” you gasp, doing your utmost to stay upright on his desk while he pounds into you. but your elbows have turned feeble from your orgasm, trembling as you try to hold yourself up with them. “i can’t do that!”

“answer it.”

his curt order is enough to make you obey, as is the harsh grip on your ass cheek. you lean over the desk a little further, reaching for the phone. this is a terrible idea but you can’t seem to break free of the spell lucifer has cast on you — you’d obey every last one of his orders.

“h–hello?”

in the process of lucifer figuratively rearranging your guts, he seems to have also turned your brain to mush and you cannot comprehend the words coming from the speaker.

all you can feel is lucifer, and how he hovers lower and lower, leaning down on your body until you’re squished between him and his desk. he grinds his hips into you, leaving chaste kisses along your shoulder blade and when he is flush against your ear, he whispers.

“focus.”

but you’re incapable of doing anything, including focusing on the phone call.

you have a client in one ear, and your boss in the other ear. neither of which can hear the other, but what is certain is that they can both hear you muffling your moans with a hand clasped over your face, and your entire body shakes as lucifer refuses to cease fucking you brainless.

“hello? is anyone there? i can hear you breathing.”

within seconds, you move the phone away from your mouth, ready to hang up but lucifer’s reflexes are quick enough to grab your arm and bring the phone back to where it was moments ago.

“answer him,” lucifer whispers. you shake your head with tight lips, holding your breath as to not make a sound while lucifer holds the phone against your face. and into the ear he has claimed, he orders, “speak. now. or i won’t let you cum.”

you open your mouth, swallowing in air before finally speaking.

“this is mr. morningstar’s office. how can i help?”

“i wish to speak with lucifer himself. this is urgent.”

your mouth hangs open, silent moans causing your body to convulse as lucifer grinds slowly and deeply in your pussy. you’re hanging on by a thin thread, but lucifer brings your attention back from your oncoming orgasm.

“you want to cum, don’t you? be a good girl and do your fucking job.”

lucifer pushes himself up and switches up his pace from slow ruts to harsh and fast thrusts. each of them knock the air out of you as you try to speak.

“i must apologise, sir. you’re calling during his out of office hours so unfortunately i can’t let you speak to him at the moment.”

“why the hell not?!”

“this is his personal—ah!” you stifle a yelp to the best of your ability, praying lucifer would have some mercy and not humiliate you — or allow you to humiliate yourself. “this is his personal time but i can pass on a message.”

the man continues to speak and with shaky hands, you reach for pen and paper, turning your moans from lucifer’s cock dragging in and out of your pussy into hums of acknowledgement in heed of the man’s queries. you only hoped they’re disguised enough to not spark intrigue on the other end of the line, because that would be the end of all the professionalism you held.

you slam the telephone into its holder, ending the call as quickly as possible.

“what the hell was that?” you whine, clenching down on lucifer’s cock as you near the bliss you’ve been longing for. your complaints are disrupted with stutters caused by lucifer’s thrusts. “do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

“you’re the one who answered,” he bites back, landing his hand down harshly on your ass once again. “not me.”

“you told me—ah! to answer!”

“and you could have refused.”

you lower your head, biting back a moan. you could have refused, but the outcome of tonight’s session would be a lot different if you didn’t answer. perhaps, lucifer might have stopped immediately, leaving you on the outskirts of blissful territory.

or alternatively, he may have begun to fuck you harsher, rougher, meaner; punishing you for not obeying his order. but you wouldn’t think of it as a punishment, as long as you get to cum.

“that’s right,” he continues. “you’re so desperate to cum, you don’t care if someone hears you getting fucked like a whore.”

an especially loud groan escapes you at the sound of the new nickname. you quite like the sound of it, but your body more so and lucifer can tell from the quivering walls of your pussy.

“you like that? you like being called a whore?”

“yes!”

“i fucking knew it.”

he thrusts impossibly harder and your body collapses, allowing him full control of your pleasure. and he gifts it to you on a golden platter.

“go on. you’ve been a good whore, so go ahead and cum,” he grunts. “cum for me. cum all over my cock like the desperate, pathetic bitch you are.”

“fuck! ah!” you can’t even warn him of your orgasm as you clench your walls, feeling his cock in greater detail as it rubs you in all the right places. “fuck, luci— feels so good!”

“that’s it, baby,” lucifer hums, emptying his own load in you. “good fucking girl.”

his words are dragged out, mellowed by the pure ecstasy he has found in your pussy. and your pussy, too, feels awestruck from the new sensations of him filling you up, not just with his cock but with his cum, too.

you’re taken over by bliss and warmth, limbs trembling from the sheer shock of it all. never had you imagined how one of your worst days would end with such astoundingly good sex. you ebb and flow with the pleasure, letting your body relax and the feelings to wither away slowly while you catch your breath.

but lucifer doesn’t give the feelings a chance to subdue and picks up the pace. with hands grounded in your hips, he pushes all of his might into one more round. the stickiness from your mixed arousals leaking out of your pussy allow him to fuck you with ease, and not minutes later, your screaming and thrashing with a new, heightened pleasure.

your tip–toes graze the floor, pressing into the ground as hard as you can to stabilise yourself. but lucifer fucks you ruthlessly and when he rips another orgasm from you, your legs fly up and outward and your hips rock against him and the desk in a most embarrassing manner.

your limbs flail and your body convulses and lucifer relishes, knowing he is the reason behind your wild pleasure. he wonders if anyone else could make you like this, to drive you insane with pleasure that you no longer have control over your body, even for the short–lived moment of him fucking you through your orgasm.

perhaps, that is why he keeps going. because he wants this moment to last forever.

having your tight pussy wrapped around him and your wildly beautiful moans filling his ears for eternity doesn’t sound bad at all.

but he, too, has limits and feels himself slow down. his thrusts become sloppy and gentle and his guttural groans are replaced with heavy breaths.

“fuck….” he gasps and he truly can find no other words. “fuck.”

collapsing into his chair, he watches your body twitching as you lay exhausted on his desk with you red ass on display and his cum dripping down your legs.

when you finally regain control over your limbs, you slowly rise, stretching to ease your muscle. but your whines and groans and the sight of your sullied body keep his cock hard for longer than he thought.

“are you alright?” he asks breathlessly. “rest longer if you need to.”

“no,” you state, looking at him over you shoulder before backing up. “we’re not done yet.”

lucifer is surprised. under the assumption that you would be as spent as he is, he does not expect you to find his cock and slip it inside of you again. but that’s exactly what you do.

“oh my god….” you moan, hypersensitive to any and all ministrations against your pussy. but still, you want more, you need more. “please, it’s so good!”

lucifer supposes he should let you continue bouncing on his cock given that he released all of his stress on you. the least he can do is allow you to use him until you’re satisfied. but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing your hips and guiding you up and down. his fingers fit into your flesh like second nature.

his added strength makes it easier for you, and you focus more on finding your next orgasm.

the usually quiet office of morningstar corporation’s boss is now filled will all sorts of obscenities — from your desperate gasps and moans to the squeaking of lucifer’s chair, and the abrupt slaps cutting through the air to the scuffling of paper on his desk when you grab onto it for stability as rapture fills you for the last time, teaching you that the joy and delight you find in melding your bodies together is the most sinful of utopias.

pleasure turns to pain, and pain turns to pleasure as you are overwhelmed with the orgasms you have endured.

lucifer’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you back into him with one hand straying to fondle your breasts. breathing in your scent, he grounds himself in you and you lay limp in his arms as all the glee and elation filling your body slowly slips away.

regaining your stable mind and body, you realise you and your boss have a lot of discussing to do. and what follows can either make or break the relationship you have with him as your boss and you as his secretary. all professional boundaries have been broken, and the flimsy rules you had in place to ensure your situation would not advance to the level it did tonight are left far in hindsight.

there’s not a single directive you left untouched. but knowing you broke all the rules, and that lucifer instigated most of it, is worrying as much as it is electrifying because you know that extra care and attention from lucifer isn’t just for the sex.

he appreciates your abilities outside of the sexual encounters you share.

as you would both understand, your role is merely to serve him and his company. he receives corporate aide from his directors but still, he trusts your intuition. he listens to your gut feeling as if it were his own.

he has a habit of asking your opinion when it comes to high–risk decisions, or urging you to tell him your opinion on a new client he had a bad feeling about. although you’re in his presence for admin only, lucifer ensures you are there for more than that.

that you are there for him and not just your job.

in more ways than one.

and he proved that tonight when he kissed you. the first rule of your arrangement was no feelings and no kissing. but lucifer, a man who lives by rules, had thrown it out the window. it only made you more curious as to what would come from it.

surely, you would stick to the scope of your professionalism. at least, what’s left of it. but his lips against yours, the soft drag of them across your skin, the sweet whispers that meant something entirely different after he kissed you….is it really worth the cost of losing your livelihood?

“we should do this more often,” he breathes into your mouth, enveloping your lips between words. “i’m beginning to despise how rare of an occurrence this is.”

“we do this often enough,” you warn him, rising from your place on his lap.

but he doesn’t let you escape. he grabs your wrist and pulls you back into him. your butt is awkwardly positioned near his softened cock but you rest your shoulder on his chest with your arms tucked between your bodies.

“if you don’t wish to do this again, then just say the word. but for now, let’s stay like this a little while longer,” he speaks softly into your hair. “i had a long day.”

“i did, too.” you hum.

his big arms wrapping around you feels foreign. but still, it feels natural to slide your head onto his shoulder and rest in his embrace. you have been intimate with lucifer in more ways than one, but this….sitting in his lap, bare and vulnerable, and holding him back while he kisses and caresses the skin on your neck and shoulders….it’s a different type of intimate.

a type of intimacy you never imagined he would be capable of.

“i hope i made your day better, even in the slightest.”

“trust me, lucifer,” you smirk. “you turned a really shitty day into a really good one.”

the both of you relish in each other’s soft laughter, but taking notice of the darkened sky has you realising this moment will soon come to an end, and you will need to part ways and pretend none of this ever happened, even the new additions to your extra duties to your ceo.

your heart sinks, knowing you have grown fonder of these encounters, fonder of the man beneath you. and you don’t want it to end despite all the alarm systems in your body telling you otherwise.

you ignore them for now, relishing in the warmth from lucifer while he is still here with you.

with a smug smile, you think to yourself: enjoy it while you can.

“and me?” you ask playfully, nudging him to open his eyes. “did i make your day better?”

you hear the soft inhale he takes, discreetly breathing in the air you give and allowing it to settle his beating heart and erratic nerves. you will never know, but even in your no strings attached relationship with him, you turned him from a purely lustful man into a man capable of love.

“yes,” he chuckles, and he looks at you in a way you’ve never been looked at before. lucifer is so adoring in his gaze. “you always do.”

you smile giddily. to yourself, or to him, you’re not quite sure. perhaps it’s the after–effects of your multiple orgasms that have you grinning and kissing him again. or maybe it’s a new chapter unfolding between you.

either way, the future of your position with him and the company is a lot less daunting when lucifer is close to you like this.

“how’s that for stress relief?”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer smut #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x female reader

[wilbursprincess]

Superstar bur or simpbur dealing with a bratty bottom w/ a breeding kink?

No I'm not calling myself out

💕

“We Both Know Who’s In Charge, Darling”

Superstarbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Dom!Superstarbur, Sub!Reader, Brat!Reader, blowjob, brat taming, breeding kink (use protection, kids), spanking, begging, praising and degrading, plenty of aftercare, is this the unholiest fic yet?

Hi anon… you called me out too <3 ANYWAY I’ve been wanting to write something along these lines for quite some time, but now that I have an ask… I have my coffee, new Hermitcraft to watch, and I am ready :D

I took a lot of inspiration from @clitsuckerer for the blowjob scene (her fics are some of the best I’ve read on here! Apple Of My Eye, Gamer Fingers, and Mommy Vibes are my favorites).

Fic below cut!

“Aww, look at you, all dressed up for me,” Wilbur coos, admiring the tight red dress hugging every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination. “Don’t you think it’s a bit long, though?”

I reach behind me, tugging at the hem barely covering my ass. “Very funny. How long until our dinner reservation?”

Standing behind me, I feel his hands trace down my waist, out to my hips, palming and squeezing my ass. “Long enough. What do you say?”

“Aw, someone can’t control himself.” I murmur sweetly, giggling as his gaze hardens. “Why don’t you try asking nicely?”

Wilbur smirks, lifting me onto the kitchen counter and nudging my legs apart with his knee. “Why don’t you try asking nicely?” His fingers slip up my thigh, tracing lazy circles. “We both know who’s in charge, darling.”

“Do we?” I retort, tugging on his tie.

Two fingers nudge past my thong, slipping inside me and curling to hit the perfect spot, making me swallow down a groan. “We do,” Wilbur says sternly. “I can feel how wet you are all over your thighs, darling. You really like to run that little mouth of yours, hm?”

“Whatever, you love it,” I say sweetly. “Or is that just something in your pocket?”

Wilbur doesn’t reply, just pumps his fingers in and out of me faster. My forehead falls onto his shoulder, his other hand reading behind me to help me ride his fingers.

“There you go, darling,” he whispers. “There you go. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

I’m too far gone to do anything else, my kisses turning into nibbles and bites as I get closer and closer. Just as my core tightens, the pleasure reaching a peak…

He stops.

“Wilbur, c’mon,” I whine. “Why?”

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” He says, amusement clear in his voice. “No, I just thought that since you like to run your mouth that much, you should be putting it to better use.”

I’m too frustrated to reply, letting myself be scooped into Wilbur’s arms and carried into our bedroom. He sets me on the floor, just in front of the edge of our bed, sitting in front of me and loosening his tie.

“Go on, you know what to do,” he says sweetly.

“And why should I?” I retort with a sly smile. “If you didn’t let me finish, why should I get you off?”

“Because if you do, then I’ll reward you.” Wilbur replies, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Reward me how?”

“By railing you so hard into the mattress, all you’ll be able to say is ‘Yes, Wilbur.” He says, crossing his arms and looking smug. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

I oblige.

“Good girl,” he praises me, unbuttoning his fly and tapping his cock a few times on my tongue. “Aww, I love seeing you so eager to suck me off.”

Wilbur roughly grabs my hair, tugging on it as I bob my head up and down. My eyes water as he slides deeper into my throat, but I keep going, desperate to please him.

“Look at that,” he observes once I’ve got all of him in my mouth, not a small feat by any means. “You were being such a brat earlier, and now you’re desperate to take me all in your throat.”

Obviously, I can’t reply, face burning from how smug he sounds.

I let him use my mouth however he wants, his hand on the nape of my neck letting him set pace and thrust. I fight my gag reflex, spit dripping down onto my chin as he nudges deeper into my throat.

“You take my cock so well,” Wilbur murmurs, moaning in satisfaction. “Damn, it’s almost like you were made to, my God.”

The praise makes me wetter, squirming around on the floor of our bedroom.

I pull back a little to start stroking him, too, which, depending on how you see it, was either a mistake or a genius idea. A few seconds later, he groans and explodes, coating my throat, lips, and chin in sticky white.

Panting, I lick everything off my lips, wiping my chin, looking up at Wilbur and waiting for my praise.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps, smiling at the remnants on my face. “Get on the bed and take off your clothes.”

You don’t have to tell me twice.

I unbuckle my heels and tug off my dress and thong, groaning as I watch Wilbur’s shirt hit the floor, followed by his pants and underwear.

“Turn around, baby,” he murmurs, and when I do, he slides his arm into the curve of my waist and rubs himself through the slick between my thighs. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“Says the man who came about 5 seconds after I started using my hand in a blowjob,” I giggle, pressing my ass against him. “Go on, you were saying something about ruining me?”

His hand harshly slaps the smooth skin. “You little brat.”

“You love it,” I retort. “And you know I’m into getting spanked.”

Stinging pain hits the left, the right, and the left again. “You sure you want to play it like this?”

“Always.” I give Wilbur my biggest, brattiest smile over my shoulder, letting out a moan when he gives me another harsh spank. “Be careful, you don’t want to hurt your wrist.”

“Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you,” he says, giving me the hardest spank yet and smiling when I yelp. “It might not make you learn your lesson, but it sure is fun.”

I sigh happily. “Sure is.”

After one last slap, he slides his cock through the wetness coating my thighs, pushing himself inside slowly, the two of us moaning in unison until he’s fully buried inside me.

“So wet for me, baby girl,” Wilbur says, pushing on my lower back so my ass arches higher. “You look so good from this angle.”

“You sure it’s all in?” I coo. “Not sure I feel anything.”

He thrusts into me so hard I gasp, burying my face in my arms. “What was that?” Wilbur says dangerously, tugging sharply on my hair. “Say it again? Didn’t quite hear you.”

All I manage is a moan, and he snorts in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

I hate how smug he sounds, but my head’s too fuzzy to complain. The only sounds filling the room are Wilbur’s groans, my soft moans, and the sound of bare skin on bare skin. He’s got a firm grasp on my hair, letting me bounce back against his thrusts so he hits me even deeper.

“Can’t run your mouth when you’re getting fucked dumb?” He taunts, tugging my hair to make me nod. “That’s my little cockslut.”

My legs feel like jelly, the only thing holding me up is Wilbur’s arm firmly in the curve of my waist. My knees are shaking so much that it looks like my entire body is quaking under him, and it’s clear he’s enjoying how much of a shaky mess I am.

“I’m close,” I manage to sigh out, groaning when Wilbur slows down. “What are you doing?”

He chuckles. “Since you couldn’t bite your tongue earlier, it only makes sense you want to keep talking. Beg for it.”

“Wilbur!” I say indignantly as he lets go of my hair and rests a thumb on my clit. “Please!”

“Please what, baby girl?” To really rub salt in the wound, he circles my clit a few times. “What do you want?”

“I want…” I swallow down the moan threatening to spill out of my mouth. “You.. to let me-“

My sentence cuts off as he lays yet another harsh spank on my ass. “What was that? You cut off.”

Frustrated tears prick the corners of my eyes. “You cut me off!”

“Life isn’t fair, princess,” he says lightly, flicking my clit a few times and laughing as my knees shake. “What were you saying?”

“Let me finish!” I finally cry out. “Please, let me finish!”

Wilbur pretends to be surprised at my answer. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

I’m too exhausted to even balk at that, not bothering to muffle the noises I’m making as he finally pushes me closer and closer to my climax.

“You want me to fill you up, darling?” He whispers, holding himself back from finishing before me. “You want me to breed you?”

“God, yes, please,” I moan out, practically screaming as he tips me over the edge and I ride out the waves of pleasure. Just as I’m slowly coming down from my shattering high, I hear Wilbur let out a long, low moan and bury his head in my shoulder as he spills inside me. The warmth fills me from the inside out as he makes no move to pull out.

“Wouldn’t want to let any of this go to waste, huh?” He murmurs softly, flipping me onto my back, replacing his cock with his fingers and thrusting his cum back into me. “There we go, sweetheart.”

His lips meet mine in a gentle, tender kiss, all the dominance gone in a heartbeat. “You alright? I wasn’t too rough?”

I sleepily shake my head. “You’re good. Are we late for the reservation?”

Wilbur nods. “We are. It’s ok, though, I’d rather spend the evening in bed with you.”

“But it’s with so many music producers!” I gasp, trying to sit up. “This could be monumental for you and your band-“

“No, baby, it’s fine,” he promises. “There will be plenty more chances for my band. Spending time with you is far more important.”

The soft glow of love washes over my entire body, and I nestle closer into his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure about something in my life,” Wilbur murmurs. “How about we go have a shower together and polish off the rest of that chocolate cake in bed afterwards? Maybe watching a movie as well?”

I kiss his forehead. “You’re speaking my language.”

#princesswrites #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #superstarbur #bursona smut #bursonas #bursona #wilbur soot smut #wilbur smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #wilbur mcyt #wilbur x female reader #mcyt x female reader #wilbur soot x female reader #princessfics

[syntheticfoxfire]

In The Night | Niragi Suguru | [F]

Summary: A rare moment of tenderness lying in bed with Niragi. Word count: 1.4k Warnings: implied abusive behavior, referenced smut

A cold breeze blowing through the open window chills you enough to make you scoot closer to the warm chest pressed against your back. Part of you wonders if that’s the reason why the window stayed open tonight but you let go of the thought quickly. It’s hard to focus on anything but the little content sigh the man behind you lets out. 

Niragi is far from perfect - hell, far from decent - but he’s making progress. Slowly. In moments like these you can almost imagine your relationship is normal.

His arms tighten around your waist, pressing you even more into him. Bare skin touches skin. It makes you shiver, sensitivity lingering after your previous activities. More than that, though, it reminds you of a movie scene you’ve seen ages ago. 

A blind woman touching a sleeping tiger.

Why can you relate to her so much at this very moment?

You let go of the thought. Instead, you turn around with a chuckle and nuzzle into his neck. The closer you are, the safer you are. He presses a kiss to your temple. Lately, you’re only seldom reminded of the feeling of the muzzle of his gun against that same spot.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” you note, running your hands over the muscles on his back.

“I am,” he replies. It’s indeed rare to see him like that - relaxed, walls lowered enough that you can forget they are there.

“Why?” you tease. After a moment of hesitation, you decide it’s safe enough to kiss along his collarbone, and so you do. While you don’t doubt he has enough strength for round two, it seems possible that tonight he would allow you a moment of intimacy deeper than that. Still he tenses a little, a reflex. It always happens if your touch grows soft and caring. There is a progress nonetheless - to start with, he no longer threatens to break your arm if you touch him like that.

He scoffs in response to your question. 

“I have the perfect little toy next to me. We had an amazing sex and now I get to keep you like this,” he squeezes you tighter, “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t be happy?”

Toy, huh? You haven’t heard that one in a while. Maybe he wanted to remind you. Or himself, who knows.

You smile against his skin. Deciding not to burst the bubble of serenity by reminding him that there’s no guarantee either of you would survive tomorrow, you just keep kissing down to his shoulder.

“There might be,” you murmur, concealing the amused teasing as best as you can behind a serious tone. It’s easy to trick Niragi like that. He likes to jump to conclusions when it comes to your relationship. Insecure enough to expect you to turn your back on him even if it’d cost you your life at the very least.

“Like?” he tenses further under your touch, trying to push you away to look at you. Fortunately he controls his strength and you manage to stay snuggled against him by hugging him tightly.

“Hmm… well, you’re not the one cuddling with the hottest and deadliest man at the Beach. And you don’t get to kiss him,” you demonstrate by tracing your lips back up to his neck, “and touch him,” now that he’s calmed down you can once again stroke across his back and sides, “and tell him that you love him very much.” 

Your mouth follows the outline of his windpipe, kissing up his neck to his lips, to which you’re so generously granted access. The tension remains in his muscles. It was to be expected. Soft praise and attention always make him uncomfortable, confessions of feelings even more so. And he knows no way of reacting to that feeling other than violence and threats. Fortunately it seems like he’s finally understood that you won’t tolerate that kind of behavior towards you.

“Careful,” Niragi warns instead. It isn’t soft, not exactly, but you appreciate the effort he put into making the word not seem like a threat.

You smile into the kiss when he connects your lips again. It’s the slow kind of kiss that you love, lips melting together, tongues sliding against each other languidly. You play with the ball that pierces his flesh, careful not to hurt him despite the wound being long healed.

“Why?” you whisper as you pull away for air. You see the way his jaw clenches just as he notices the spark of uncertainty in your eyes. He tries his best to relax again.

“I don’t want to hurt you tonight,” he whispers back after a moment of consideration. A thought crosses your mind, wondering just how fucked up your life has gotten that you actually consider it a sweet sentiment. He’s looking straight into your eyes as if searching for approval. You wonder if anyone’s ever seen him like that.

“I appreciate that,” you hum softly, reaching out to play with his hair as you kiss the corner of his mouth. Every moment with him really feels like living with a wild tiger. You can never be entirely sure that he won’t take your life in the next second. All it would take is one little misstep.

Perhaps you like the danger, crave it even on some unconscious level. That’s the only explanation you have for staying with him this long. Even as you tangle your fingers into his hair, combing through it with care, you think of the wild beasts you’ve encountered in the various games.

His eyes are closed. You have a theory that it’s so that you can’t read them. Yet it’s obvious Niragi’s going through some internal war. As you stroke his hair, running your hands through it carefully and massage his scalp, you think that just maybe he’s getting used to it. Used to this kind of touch that leaves behind comfort instead of pain.

He’s never told you about his past but it’s not exactly hard to guess it couldn’t have been easy. Or maybe you just want to believe his actions and behavior could be if not justified or excused then at the very least explained by the conditions that shaped him.

Thinking about the ancient history, the old world, your hands find their way to his face.

It comes as a surprise to you that you’ve never thought of wrapping them around his neck instead.

One of your hands slides down to his cheek, tenderly cupping it, while the other strokes above his eyebrow. Eventually your finger bumps into the metal ball there. It’s a strange contrast. While the one in his mouth is nice and warm, this one is cold, chilled by the midnight air. You smile a little and he must have heard it because he asks you what’s so funny - you tell him. He shakes his head.

“You’re the only person who would wonder about that, you know?” Niragi kisses your forehead. You smile, surprised that he hasn’t yet told you to stop. Maybe this is a test. You feel like you’ve already tested his patience a lot tonight with all your gentle touches. It makes you feel strangely proud of him and grateful to Niragi that he accepted as much of your love as he did tonight. 

But you can’t tell him that. If you told him you noticed the progress, the little changes so that your relationship at least resembles something healthy, he would cover back behind his walls, throwing all the progress out the window in the process.

You decide to push your luck instead. There’s something you wanted to do while you had the chance. Shifting higher so you’d reach his ear, you begin kissing a path from his lips across his jaw. Occasionally sucking on his skin, you make your way to his ear. The increasing strength of his hold on you does not go unnoticed. You bite his earlobe lightly.

“It’s true, even if you don’t like it. Even if you don’t feel the same way. I love you,” you squeeze his shoulder. A sign that you’re done for today. That you’re ready to respect him as a predator and a killer rather than being respected and tolerated as his partner again. 

That little squeeze is probably enough of a reassurance that his jaw relaxes again and he sighs deeply through his nose, angry but holding it together. It’s almost adorable.

You nuzzle into his chest, an allowed and welcomed gesture. It gives him an opportunity to hold and protect you through the night. Besides, with an ear pressed against his heart, you can pretend it’s beating so fast because he’s feeling a whole different emotion than fury.

#alice in borderland #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #alice in boderland x reader #aib x reader #imawa no kuni no arisu #niragi fluff #angst #fluff #fanfic

[punching-pentagrams]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 3

You guys!!! Thank you so much for all of the love so far! I makes me so happy to see people liking the story so far. Here is Chapter 3! xoxo, Dany <3

Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Chapter 8|Chapter 9|

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 2.6k CW: Prostitution, Slowburn, mentions of panic, anxiety, depression, hurt/comfort, bullying, slight manipulation

The next morning, light started to drift through the curtains of Lucifer's room again, like they did every morning. But something about this morning felt... different.

Lucifer felt himself return to the waking world, and his eyes fluttered open and he felt... actually kind of awake, for once? Lucifer sat up with a bit of confusion, partly from how he felt and partly due to realizing he was still in his mostly unbuttoned shirt and trousers from the previous day. Looking around, he tried to remember what all had happened the night before.

Seeing his bowtie on the floor, hat on a random table, and his jacket hug up on the mirror, he remembered that something different had happened the night before, but it was fuzzy. Eventually his eyes caught sight of a small note card that was left on his bedside table. He picked it up and read it.

'Thank you for inviting me to share the evening with you, for all it's ups and downs. It was an honor. You are welcome to call on me again if you are ever in need of company of any sort. Best Wishes, (y/n)'

Upon reading your name, Lucifer started to remember scenes of interaction from the night before. His first view of you near the door, kissing your hand, walking you into his room, you on top of him in your lace lingerie, you beside his bed with eyes full of concern, you holding out your arms as he ran into your hug, and the comforting darkness of your embrace as tears ran down his face while he slipped into slumber.

'Oh my god... Did I just cry myself to sleep in her arms? I hired a prostitute and all I did was fall asleep in her arms? Crying?! How pathetic am I?' he thought to himself. He looked back down at your beautiful handwriting, the way the letters curved and twisted, a small heart over the i in "Wishes", and thought about how gentle your eyes had looked when he was in so much pain. Such warm and comforting eyes. How his mood had shifted, and on a dime, it seemed that so did yours when you could tell something was wrong. Was that real concern? Or were you just acting? Honestly, if it felt that good... did he really care which one it was?

For once, he felt like he had actually slept, that he was more alert, not perfect, but something had improved after the last night. That did not feel like a coincidence. Something about being with you last night make him feel better, and he wanted more. He wasn't sure about sexual intimacy at this point, since something about that had seemed to set him off, but the comfort was nice. Would she be willing to come over again just to comfort and hold him like that?

He read the note again, 'You are welcome to call on me again if you are ever in need of company of any sort.' Company of any sort. Any sort. Anyyyy sortttt... But what did she mean by that?! Did she mean like, 'I'm here for you no matter what! We can hang out, we can talk, you can cry, we can fuck, just whatever! I'm your gal!' or did she mean like 'I'm down for whatever, hot stuff~, wink wink, nudge nudge, *insert lude hand gestures here*'

Lucifer would spend much of the next hour thinking way to hard about that one line of text you had written, mumbling to himself as he took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, got dressed, and once he got a look at himself in the mirror.

"Mayyyybbeeee... I'm thinking way to hard about this and she is just, I don't know, wanting to give me whatever support I need. What do you think about that!" he said to his mirror-self dramatically. He stared at his reflection for a minute before deciding to agree with himself on his last statement.

"That's what I thought" he said smiling and nodding to the mirror version of himself. "Now onto the next question... how long do I wait before requesting her again without looking like a total fucking creepy loser."

That question... would consume him for the majority of the afternoon, only to be quickly interrupted by the realization that he never paid you for the night before, which briefly gave him something else to panic about.

______________________________________________________________

You on the other hand, woke up and started the day the same as you always had, in your tiny room that you had been renting over the brothel. Most of the other girls from the Lounge also lived there, it wasn't required but it was easier in some ways, mostly for the nights that you had so many clients throughout the day that your body hurt and you could barely move.

It was not so great most of the time, it was loud and cramped, smelled of drugs and cigarettes, you could often hear the sounds of sex from the Lounge below, and some of the girls would try to steal shit. To minimize that, you just tried not to have a lot in your apartment other than a bed, a couch, a small table with a tv, and one of the best safes in hell that you could get your hands on the would fit in your small space for your money. It wasn't much, but it worked.

As you got up and started on your morning routine, your thoughts drifted back to Lucifer from the previous night, and wondered how he was doing. You weren't used to thinking about clients after you were off the clock with them, but you also weren't used to watching them have a panic attack and then cry themself to sleep in your arms. Or you know, being the most powerful being in all of hell for that matter either.

Something about that felt, soft, and nice. It made you feel like you did something possibly worthwhile for once. Who knows if it made an impact on him, or if he would even remember or care about you once he woke up, but something in you prayed that it did. How odd it was to think about that you had not just comforted a normal demon, but the King of Hell, a former high ranking angel, someone who had probably seen God or the highest orders of Heaven. It almost felt like it shouldn't be possible for angels to cry, surely they were not meant to know such pain? And yet, here was one, full of pain and torment probably beyond your understanding. It made you sick just thinking about it.

But that was not for you to concern yourself with, who knows if you would ever see him again. Plus, you had today's clients to focus on. Another day, another dollar. 'Hey, hey, hey, fuck my life.'

You head downstairs to find Cynthhhhia waiting with a shit eating grin on her face once she sees you, giving you a sinister laugh. You roll your eyes.

"Tch. What's got you in such a good mood this morning?" you scoff.

"Larry's been looking for you. You're in trouble," she says with venom in her voice.

Your chest tightens. Oh shit. What could it be? Did you miss your day to clean the dressing rooms? Did Lucifer call and complain about something you did? Were you gonna get fired? You try not to show it on your face, but you do stop walking.

"Why do you say that?" you say, trying to hold an even tone.

Cynthhhhia laughs with a hiss, "Apparently, someone forgot to get a payment from a certain customer last night."

'Fuuuckkkkkk!'

God damn it. You were so focused on taking care of him through his panic attack, then he fell asleep, and you completely forgot to ask for your payment. It also didn't seem appropriate at the time. You could work with this though.

You just laughed and flipped your hair, Cynthhhhia's expression shifted to confusion.

"Ohhhh haha, well ya, I mean that happens sometimes when you just fuck someone so good that they pass out, right? I mean we have all been there," you say giving her a big grin. Cynthhhhia's face changes to her normally prissy annoyance.

"Oh! Have you never had that happen? Oh, well. You'll get there." you smugly walk past her as you pat her on the shoulder. Cythhhhia aggressively shrugs off your touch and hisses as you walk past her. "I'll just go find him now, thanks for the heads up girlypop. Kisses!"

Nailed it. You loved shutting that bitch up, but you always wish it didn't have to come to that. But she wasn't the only one who could play a mean girl, you were just smarter about it. Now to go find Larry and put on a good show for him too.

You put on a panicked look and start to run around the brothel, asking around for Larry. After a few minutes, you find him out in the lobby, chatting with some patrons. You make eye contact with him, give a relieved smile and run to him.

"Darling, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!" you exclaim with your biggest sweetest smile.

"Babydoll! Excuse me fellas, I'll be right back," the pig-man says as he moves past the group of men he was standing with to meet you half way across the room. "What's going on? I didn't see a payment from your customer last night, and that's not like you," he said with concern in his voice, but not like a genuine type of concern. It was the type of concern that you had come to know as 'You better be giving me a good reason as to why I didn't get my money.'

You pouted and tried to look flustered, "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry! I just had such a good time and we got so into such a rough and dirty night of kinky sex that, I accidently fucked him so hard that he passed out! I didn't know what to do, so I just came back home and hoped you would be able to help me figure it out. I'm really sorry for getting so carried away," you finish with a bat of your eyes.

Ugh, you hated your own fake, ditzy, whiny voice, but you knew Larry was a sucker for it, and it normally got you out of some uncomfortable situations. Larry's face morphed into a smile and he let out a boisterous laugh before giving you a pat on the shoulder.

"Aww that's my girl! You know what, he's a first timer. So I'll cut him some slack for today. If he doesn't get me a payment by tomorrow, I'll give him a call, give him a day to recover from the high. Hopefully I won't have to send the Sharks after him!" he gave you a nudge in the ribs and you laughed along with him.

You were thankful that he bought your story, but you hoped that this wasn't going to cause trouble for Lucifer. Larry was friends with some of the Loan Sharks, and sometimes he told stories about the aggressive lengths that they would go to in order to get their money back, or take out the people that didn't pay. But, it wasn't your fault that Lucifer had forgotten to pay. Plus, you did not anticipate how last night was going to go, and you don't normally ask for payments at the beginning of the first meeting, that felt tacky to you.

Luckily, your worries were extinguished a few hours later. After your first few clients of the day. Larry came to find you again with a big grin on his face.

"Well, looks like we didn't need to worry, Mr. 'Lance' night came through with payment and an apology for not remembering to pay last night," Larry boasted with a sharp grin.

You try to hold back your surprise, "Oh? Did he come in to drop it off?"

Larry waved a hand, "Naw, he sent some lackey of his, all snooty and fancy like 'I was sent on behalf of Lance to give you his payment for last night and an apology for not paying after the appointment last night due to being incapacitated. He promises that this will not be an issue with future appointments' blah blah blah" he laughed, dropping the mocking pompous tone he used to mock the "lackey".

You laughed along with him, but internally you were caught up on the last part about "future appointments", was that a paraphrase? Or did the messenger actually say that?

"Ah, so does it some like I've secured a new repeat customer?" you ask, trying not to sound too excited.

"Sounds like it! I asked if he had wanted to schedule for his next appointment, but his lackey didn't seem to know. Said he would probably be in touch at some point. Oh also, here is the tip he left for you," he smirked. Larry slid your tip into your hands and headed off to pester one of the other girls for something.

Your heart fluttered. Lucifer wanted to see you again, possibly, and that made you feel good. You normally didn't care what customers thought of you, but you thought it made sense that this was an exception. This was the King of Hell himself. Who knows how he will want to interact with you this next time around, but you figured you should be prepared for both possibilities of comforting and sexual intimacy. Not something you needed to figure out right at that moment.

You then looked down at the money in your hand, and your eyes went wide at the amount of money in your hands.

Wait, holy shit. What?!

The tipped amount that was in your hands was more than you had ever seen at one time. This was probably the same amount the you would usually get tipped in a week, let alone from one client.

You quickly tucked away the money under your arm and made your way up to your room to hide the money in your safe. You did not trust anyone except Larry knowing how much you would be making in tips from 'Lance' if this was going to be a regular thing. Especially, Cynthhhhia and her hoard of goons.

As you got to your room, closed the door, and started to count through the money, you smiled. He didn't need to tip you this much, you don't know why he did, but it made you feel good. You didn't feel fully comfortable seeing this as confirmation of any sort of building blocks of connection, but it didn't feel like it was a negative sign either.

You didn't hear anything else for a few days, but soon Larry notified you that 'Lance' had called again to meet with you, scheduled for a week after your first meeting at happened. Larry also relayed a message from 'Lance', requesting that he "really liked that thing you did at the end of the night, and would really like more of that if it was possible." You smiled and nodded.

Larry asked what it was you had done at the end of the night, you replied with only a finger up to your lips, a wink, and the statement, "A magician never reveals her secrets."

_____________________________________________________________

Thank you again to all my new and returning readers and followers! I'm so happy I get to share this story with you all <3 Let me know if you want added to the taglistTaglist: @froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #fanfic writing #lucifer fanfiction

[thetriumphantpanda]

one kiss is all it takes | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Four

Chapter Summary | All of the tension between you & Javi comes to a head when you're gathered at the Peña ranch to celebrate Chucho's birthday.

Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food & alcohol, some angst, heavy on the flirting, discussion of drugs & the drug trade but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note |  Well. I am having far too much fun with these guys. I hope you guys are still enjoying this. Just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @undercoverpena for helping me brainstorm this chapter and figure it out when I was struggling and for just being my biggest hype woman. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

It’s Chucho’s birthday and it feels like the entirety of Laredo has descended on the Peña ranch. He’s currently sitting on one of the chairs that’s been set out on the back porch, beer in hand, talking to some of his friends from the ranch association. You’ve already been over, wished him a happy birthday with a kiss on the cheek, and pressed a small gift bag into his hand from the rest of the family. The bag is sitting between his feet, and you know he’ll take it in with him later to open on his own. Never one for a fuss, was Chucho. 

Other townsfolk are walking around, or standing in smaller groups, drinking or eating from the spread of food everyone had contributed to. You’re currently sat with your mom, who is talking to some of the women she works with. It’s dull conversation, but you try your best to look at least semi-interested when a question is thrown your way. You’re focused on something else though. Your eyes have been searching through the sea of people for one person, and one person only. Javi. And he’s nowhere to be seen. You bring the bottle of beer you’ve been drinking to your lips, tip it up, but find it empty. 

“I’m just going to get another drink.” You mumble to excuse yourself from the group around you. 

They all smile at you but quickly return to their conversations once you start stepping away. The relief from the cool interior of the house is welcome, as you open the fridge and root through it for another drink. You close the fridge door gently, plucking the magnetic bottle opener off the front when you hear muffled voices coming from down the hall. 

“You know,” You can just make out, so you take gentle steps to the edge of the kitchen to hear better, “If you were looking for something else, we could always use you back on the force.” It’s your dad, and you bet you know exactly who he’s talking to. 

“Go back to shining lights into teenagers’ cars whilst they’re making out and busting petty criminals?” That’s definitely Javi, “That’s not really my scene anymore.” 

You can hear your dad sigh a little, “It’s not really like that anymore,” He offers, “You must know by now we’ve got some kind of drug epidemic here, we can’t seem to crack it, I bet you could blow this whole thing wide open for us.” 

Javi scoffs, you press yourself further into the wall, knowing you should walk away, this isn’t your conversation to hear, “Even more reason for me to stay away,” He answers, “I couldn’t crack it down there, and if it’s anything like that here, it’s going to go far deeper than you could ever imagine.” 

Your dad sighs again, louder this time, because he’s clearly fighting a losing battle, “Well, the offer is there, think about, huh?” 

All Javi does is grunt in response, which you think is akin to something like ‘thanks, but no thanks’, then you hear footsteps coming down the hallway. You don’t move quickly enough to dart back through the doors but do manage to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible at the kitchen island as your dad rounds the corner. 

“I didn’t know you were in here.” He speaks, fishing his own new drink out of the fridge.

“Just came to get another drink,” You smile, trying to make your voice loud enough that Javi can hear that you’re inside too, “It’s pretty hot out there.” 

Your dad clinks his bottle with yours as he moves to head back outside, “Cool off, but don’t hide away in here, okay?” 

You nod and smile as he heads back outside, but you don’t make a move to follow him. After last week, when Javi pressed his lips to your cheek, you haven’t been able to think of much else. Surely, if he’d come all the way to fetch you, brought you food and kissed your cheek, that must mean something? You’d felt absolutely crazy trying to explain it to Liv, recounting your conversation, trying to get her advice on what it meant. She’d been entirely unhelpful, telling you that you were reading too much into it, but she had told you Victor was nice, so you weren’t in the habit of trusting her at the moment. 

You stand at the kitchen island for a while, praying that he would come to you, talk to you, even just say hello, anything would do, but he doesn’t. He stays wherever he is, doing whatever he’s doing, leaving you standing there like someone had stood you up. You sigh, pick up your beer and head back outside. 

It’s probably an hour later, you’re back sitting with your mom and her friends, when he emerges from the house, his own drink in hand. He makes eye contact with you, but when you smile at him, he doesn’t return it, just turns and walks over to the first group of people he can find, almost completely ignoring your presence. It hurts, is what you think, makes your heart sink a little. 

You see him a few times over the next couple of hours as people start slowly heading off. It’s still warm outside, but the sun is starting to set, painting the ranch in a soft orange glow. Your mom and dad left about an hour ago, leaving you where you there to help tidy up. The plan had been for all of you to stay, but your mom had indulged in one too many glasses of wine and needed to nap. 

The crowd had thinned out significantly now, so you think it’s a good a time as any to try and tidy up the porch a bit. There’s a rubbish bag hanging from the railing, there’s a few actually, that you think Javi must have set out in order to keep mess to a minimum, so you start picking up the empty bottles and used paper plates, stuffing them in until it’s full. You move some of the furniture around, back to how you know Chucho likes it. 

“You don’t have to help with this.” 

You turn around, and for the first time Javi is looking at you, talking to you, but still won’t quite meet your eyes, choosing to busy himself with gathering the trash from the other side of the porch. 

“I don’t mind,” You shrug, walking over to help him out a little, picking up some more paper plates to shove into the bag, “Doesn’t seem right to leave you to tidy the place on your own after allowing half the town to come over.” 

He doesn’t really respond after that, silently shuffles around, refusing to meet your eyes. It drives you wild, because there’s no way you’d made up the signals he’d been giving in the car. No-one kisses your cheek if they don’t want you. 

Once the porch is clear of clutter, Javi makes a beeline for the trash bag that’s full, leaning down to pick it up. You follow his movements, reaching down to circle his wrist with your hand, trying to be gentle with him. You’re not expecting him to snatch his arm away from you like you’d just branded him with a hot poker. He even steps back away from you, turning his back slightly, although you can see one of his hands come to his mouth, fingers running over his facial hair and down his chin, other hand on his hip. You think you hear him mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘don’t’. 

You stand there, dumbfounded if anything. Why is he being so different with you? Hot, angry tears are forming across your waterline, because you’re embarrassed, embarrassed that you’d played into him leading you on. To try and hide the fact you’re about to cry, you turn on your heel, stomping, albeit quite dramatically, around the side of the porch when you feel him grab your wrist, pulling you around so you’re facing him. Nowhere to hide now, you think, giving him your face, letting him see the tears he’s caused. 

“What?” You spit, tearing your hand out of his grip, much like he’d done to you just moments before. 

“Just… wait.” He says hands up in defense. 

So you do, you stand there and wait, shifting your weight from foot to foot, watching as he leans back more of his weight on his back leg, hand rest on the top of his jeans, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of what to say. 

“You know what?” You scoff, “I’m so fucking embarrassed, Javi,” You can feel your bottom lip start to wobble, more frustrated tears threatening to fall, “I thought-” You start, running a hand over your cheek to wipe away the tears that are forming, “I thought I was picking up on these signals between us,” You motion your hand between the two of you, “Thought maybe you felt the same way about me, I mean, who kisses someone’s cheek and tells them there’s nothing wrong with them if they don’t mean it, right?” You can hear yourself, sniffling through the tears, voice getting quicker and higher in pitch as he just… stands there, “God,” You chuckle, “I really thought I’d stop embarrassing myself at some point, but clearly fucking not.” 

He's still not saying anything, and you’re sick to death of making yourself feel and look like a fool in front of him, so you turn on your heel again, walking away, when yet again his hand circles your wrist and pulls you back to him, but this time, you don’t stop by just turning around to him, he’s tugging at you, pulling you closer, and then all of a sudden his lips are on yours. It’s quick, almost over before you can even register what’s happened, but there was no mistaking the feel of his lips pressed to yours. The tickle of the hair on his upper lip against the skin under your nose. 

When he pulls away, you’re dumbfounded, mouth open in shock, “You kissed me.” Is all you can say, voice high with shock. 

“I did.” 

“Then what the fuck was all that back there?” You ask, incredulous and confused, head spinning with what’s going on. 

All he does is shrug, seemingly unable to explain himself, which makes you more annoyed. Is he fucking with you? All you wish he would do is tell you what the fuck is going on in his brain, what he’s thinking, why he’s behaving in this way. 

“Tell me,” You demand, “Tell me, or I’m going to get in my car and leave.” 

And he’s standing there, and you think you can see the cogs working behind his eyes. His mouth is doing that thing again where it opens and closes without him saying anything. He brings a hand up to brush over his brow, but he still doesn’t say anything. You’d had enough. If he didn’t have the decency to be frank with you, like you’d been with him, then you guess you had your answer. 

For the third time that evening, you turn around and start walking, heading for the steps at the front of the house. He doesn’t try and grab your wrist this time, doesn’t try and touch you, but you can hear his footsteps behind you. You can see your car in front of you, you reach into the pocket of your shorts, fingers hitting the keys when you finally hear his voice. 

“I’m trying to be good, alright?” He calls out to you, “Better,” he offers then, “I’m trying to be better and I just…. Fuck, I hate this.” 

And really that’s all you needed. You needed him to try. To try and explain his behaviour, to tell you why he was giving you these mixed signals. So you turn, walk the few steps back towards him, take his face in your hands and plant a kiss right on his lips. 

It’s like it breaks the dam that the two of you had been trying to hold back, because his hands are on your back, one resting just above the waistband of your shorts, the other fisting at the material between your shoulder blades as he really kisses you this time. Your hands drop to the collar of his shirt, pulling him in closer as you open your mouth against his, let his tongue finally touch yours, pressing your body as close to his as you can possibly get it. You can feel the tension of your shirt being pulled from behind. It’s like he has to fist the material because he wants to touch you, wants to put his hands on your skin under the material, but knows he can’t. 

When you pull away, both breathless, he leans down, rests his forehead to yours, eyes closed. 

“I don’t want you to be good, Javi,” You whisper, “I want you to want me.” 

He opens his eyes then, big chocolate orbs that are pleading with you, “I do,” He answers honestly, “I want you so much, querida, and that’s the problem.” 

“I know.” You try and soothe, but really, it’s all lost now isn’t it, there’s no going back from here. 

Almost like you both finally realise you’re in the open air at the same time, you both step away from each other. Your hands coming to pull your shirt back into position, Javi doing the same with the collar of his shirt. You run your thumb over your bottom lip where you can feel the wetness from the kiss, wiping it away. 

“I should go,” You say softly, motioning your head to the car, and he doesn’t argue, because he knows you should too, because if you stay here there’s only one thing that can happen, “See you around.” 

Like it’s now his signature move, his hand circles your wrist, turning you back to him, “Call me?” He asks, “Call me tonight?” 

You smile, “Okay, I’ll speak to you later.” 

You weren’t really sure how long you were supposed to wait to call him. You got in and your mom was already in bed out for count, your dad sat in front of the TV, cold beer in hand, watching some kind of sports. 

“You help Javi clean up?” He asks as you throw your keys in the dish on the side table. 

You try not to bite at your lip, try not to focus on the heat rising across your cheek, “I did,” You confirm, walking over to the fridge to pick out your own drink, “Most people had already thrown their stuff away, so it didn’t take long.” 

You sit with him for a while, sipping slowly on the drink, trying to quell the memories of his lips on yours, the way he had tasted and the way his hand had fisted so tightly at the back of your shirt. It was everything you’d wanted it to be, all those years of wondering what it would be like, and now you knew, and all you wanted was to know what else he could do, how else he could make you feel. 

Once your drink is done, you give your dad a chaste kiss on the cheek, bid him goodnight, and spend the next hour pacing, trying to concentrate on reading, before you give up. You reach into your bag and pull out the card. Run your fingers over the name embossed there. You pick up the receiver on your nightstand, punch the number in and press call. 

This time, he answers on the first ring, like he’s been sitting around waiting for you to call, just as much as you have. 

“Hello.” You speak timidly, leaning back onto the pillows of your bed, switching the handset to the other ear so you’ll be able to hear anyone wandering around outside. 

“Evening, hermosa.” He croons back to you, but doesn’t offer anything else. 

You sit there for a moment, listening to him breath down the phone, reveling in the fact that he’s doing the same, until it gets to be a little awkward. You start speaking right at the same time as he does, which makes you both pause to let the other carry on, but it only works to make you both laugh. 

“You go first.” He prompts. 

You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry,” You muse, “For how I was earlier.”

“You don’t need to say sorry,” He replies softly, “I’m sorry for being shit at talking about things.” 

There’s another pause, but it’s more comfortable this time, “So…” You trail off, “You kissed me.” It’s whispered, almost like it’s some terribly sordid secret, which you suppose it is really. 

“I did,” He confirms, and you’d like to think he’s smiling on the other end of the phone, “Wanted to do more than just kiss you.” He admits at the end. 

“Oh,” It comes out a little like a gasp, “Why didn’t you?” 

“I told you,” Javi replies with a little sigh, “I’m trying to be good, trying to be a gentleman.” 

“What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” You offer. 

“What do you want me to be?” 

You giggle a little, “You sound like I’m paying you to say these things to me,” You hear him scoff at the other end, “I just want to know what you wanted to do to me that didn’t involve kissing me.” 

“Oh, hermosa,” You hear him make a ‘tsk’ sound through the receiver, “I would have kissed you, and then some,” You can hear him shifting around on the other end, “Wanted to put my hands all over you, make you feel good.” 

You bite your bottom lip a little, wanting nothing more than to let your hand wander below the waistband of your shorts, but there’s that little bubble of anxiety that always seems to make itself known to you when you get yourself into conversations like this, your lack of experience, lack of knowledge really, in how any of this is meant to work. 

“I wanted you to do that too,” You admit, “But…” You trail off, not really wanting to admit this to him right now. 

“But what, hermosa?” He coaxes. 

“I’m just-” You sigh, “I don’t have a lot of experience in this stuff, you’ll have to be patient with me.” 

You don’t know what you expect him to say, but it certainly isn’t what he says, “You want me to teach you, huh?” He asks, “Show you what you’ve been missing with those college boys?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, because he’s so right. You want to know what it’s like for someone else to take you apart. You want to know what it’s like when someone sinks into you and really cares about how you feel. You want to know what it’s like to feel someone else’s mouth on you. You want to know what it’s like to curl into someone’s side once all is said and done and fall asleep with someone’s arm wrapped around you, and you want all that with him. 

“I do.” You reply simply. 

“Then say no more,” There’s another silence, “I should let you go,” He says, “But I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hum in response, “And, um, don’t worry okay?” You’re about to ask about what, but you think you know what he’s getting at, “Just… probably best we don’t say anything to anyone, but don’t worry about it, alright?” 

“Okay,” Is your response, because what else is there to really say, “Goodnight Javi.” 

“Goodnight, querida,” He says back, “Sweet dreams.” 

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña fic #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña smut #Javier Peña fluff #Javier Peña angst #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x F!reader #Javier Peña narcos #narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #javier pena #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena angst #javier pena fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Javier Peña

[lawsvalentine]

Somebody Else • Law x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: Smut (Fingering, stimulation, penetration, creampie, semi public sex ish(secluded area), Takes place in Zou, Mostly told through Law’s perspective, Jealousy, slight argument, Cursing, Exes to Lovers, Law is in denial about his feelings.

Cee’s Note: A little inspiration from the song Somebody Else by The 1975. Hope y’all enjoy!

🎵”I hate to think about you with somebody else” 🎵

*MDNI*

No, I don’t want her

Law hadn’t seen you since he left on his mission to Punk Hazard.

Things have been different since Law broke things off between you two. You kept your distance from each other after it happened. The last time you even spoke to him was when he was saying his goodbyes to the crew and you gave him an awkward good luck.

It was for the best.

Law had no business pursuing a relationship with you. It was foolish. You would only be a distraction.

At least that’s what he spent many nights telling himself whenever he couldn’t sleep, mind consumed with thoughts about you. It was easier to push these thoughts out of his mind when he was far away, but now that he has reunited with you and his crew in Zou, it is becoming extremely difficult to ignore them.

The straw hat pirates, the minks, and the heart pirates were all gathered at a banquet, sharing laughs, chowing down on Cat Viper’s lasagna, and drinking to their hearts content. Despite all the commotion going on around Law, his eyes centered on you. You were just as radiant as he remembered, even more so in the dress you were wearing that showed off all your curves perfectly.

No, I am not into her.

You were sitting and conversing with the green haired swordsman from the Straw Hats. He couldn’t help but notice the way your lips perked up and smiled at Zoro. The same smile that used to instantly brighten Law’s day no matter how shitty he was feeling.

Or the way your hand gently touched Zoro’s shoulder. The same hands that used to gently caress Law whenever he was feeling overwhelmed with stress. The same hands that would lovingly run through his hair when you two would share tender kisses. The same hands that used to clutch at his back, digging into him as he rocked his hips into y-

No, I don’t miss her.

Law shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He downed the glass of sake in his hand, trying to rid the dirty memory of you from his mind. He tried to divert his attention elsewhere but no matter what, it always found it’s way back to you. He was getting agitated watching how close you two were being.

He continued to watch you and the swordsman laugh and chat, his patience growing thinner by the second. It wasn’t until Zoro leaned into you and whispered in your ear causing you to giggle that Law finally snapped.

Before he knew it, his lips were uttering a “Takt” and the mug of sake that Zoro was clutching in his hand was now hovering over his head. With a flick down of Law’s finger, the mug tipped and spilled the alcohol all over Zoro, causing the two of you to jump up from your spot. The sniper from the straw hats and a couple minks that were sitting near you two were staring, mouth agape at the scene before them.

Shit. Why did i do that?

Zoro was seething, face flushed red not only from embarrassment but also rage from his sake going to waste.

“Oi, Tra-guy! What the hell is your problem?!”

Zoro starts to unsheathe his sword from its place on his hip. But before Zoro could approach Law, you stepped in between the two men with your arms up, facing the swordsman. Zoro halted and glared at you.

“No, don’t! Uhm, can you excuse us please ”, you said to the swordsman before grabbing Law by the wrist.

Before either of them could protest, you were dragging Law away to a secluded area behind one of the abandoned houses.

.

“What the hell was that, Law?”, you huffed, arms crossed glaring at him.

Law knew he shouldn’t have done that but for some reason it brought him satisfaction seeing the swordsman drenched in sake. He doesn’t know why it pissed him off seeing you with him.

“Did I interrupt your flirting?”, Law deadpanned.

You scoff at him.”Even if we were flirting, why do you give a shit?”

“I don’t”, Law spat, before turning his back about to walk away from you.

No, I don’t care

Law couldn’t be here with you. It was already hard enough around other people, but it was worse now that he’s alone with you.

“You know, you don’t get to do that”

Law stopped in his tracks, still faced away from you but he could hear the frustration in your voice. He stayed silent, not knowing what to say in response to that. Your frustration grows at his lack of a response and before you know it you were pouring your heart out.

“I don’t get it, Law! YOU broke up with ME, remember? And then you just treat me like I’m a stranger! Like what we had meant nothing to you. Then you leave for months and when you come back you start acting like a jealous prick. I-I just don’t fucking get it”

Towards the end of your rant, your voice started to shake and tears started to form making your vision blurry. You wrap your arms around yourself, tilting your head down as you start to sob.

Damnit

Law turned around to face you once he heard your whimpers and sniffles. It was almost like his body acted on instinct, because before he knew it, he was right in front of you, reaching his hands on either side of your cheeks, lifting your face up to be met with your puffy eyes. His thumbs wiped the tears that stained your cheeks.

No, I can’t do this

But the way you looked up at him, even with your eyes puffy and glossed with tears he swore he could get lost in them. The way your soft skin felt against the palm of his hands. The way your lips quivered from your whimpers. You were so breathtaking to him.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, with both hands cupping your cheeks, he bent his face down closer to your face, smashing his lips against yours.

You brought your arms up to his chest and he thought you were about to push him away, but instead you wrap your arms around him, allowing yourself to melt in the kiss. Law hums in relief against your lips before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. You slightly open, allowing your tongues to mold against each other. You moan against his lips.

Man, did i miss this

He was sure he would never feel your lips again. For a while, he thought he could live without it. But seeing you with that damn swordsman proved him wrong. He hated seeing you with somebody else. Hated thinking about somebody else getting to kiss you like this. To touch you. To fuck you.

The kiss got more desperate, both of you moaning against each others mouths, hands roaming each other’s bodies. He pressed you against the back of the building wall, finally breaking the kiss both of you panting, trying to catch your breathes.

Law brought his head down to your neck, sucking harshly and nipping at the certain spot on your neck he knew was your weakness. You let out a moan as he attacked your neck. You reach your hand down to palm his bulge through his jeans, causing him to hiss against your neck. He ran his hands down your hips, down to your thighs before riding up your dress, revealing your panties that were stained with your arousal.

He slipped your panties down to your knees and without a warning, plunged two of his digits into you making you moan loudly. Law immediately brought his other hand up, shoving his fingers into your mouth to silence you. You whimper around his fingers as he continued to pump his fingers in an out of you, admiring the squelching sounds of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me” He groaned, before taking his fingers out of your mouth to tug down the straps to your dress, exposing your bare breasts. He brought his mouth to suck and nip at your nipples while his fingers continued to scissor inside your wet hole. You were biting back moans, legs starting to shake from the stimulation from his mouth on your nipples and his fingers reaching that sweet spot inside of you. You were getting close and more desperate.

“Fuck me, Law!”, you whine.

Law was just as desperate to feel all of you. He removed his soaked fingers from your pussy leaving you to clench around nothing. He starts to unbuckle his pants and pull both his jeans and underwear down with one hand. His long cock springs out, bobbing slightly. He is painfully hard, leaking with pre cum. He needed to be inside you. Once he got a taste of you, his body couldn’t get enough.

Fuck, I want her. I want her so bad

You looked into his eyes darkened with lust, admiring his handsome features. All you wanted was him, not caring who could hear or see you two. All you wanted was him inside you.

“Law, please”, you whimpered, growing impatient.

She needs me. And I need her just as bad

Law didn’t waste a second after that, he hooked an arm under your thigh lifting you slightly against the wall. You clutch your arms around his neck for support as he aligned himself with your entrance and slowly brought you down on his dick, making you throw your head back. Your soaking wet cunt allowed him to slide inside you with ease.

“Sh-shit” Law breathed out, eyes crunched at the overwhelming pleasure of your walls clenching around him.

Your pussy felt like heaven to him. Law silently cursed himself for being such a fool. No one else could make him feel this way. Nobody else deserved to feel you the way he did.

He started to pump inside of you at a moderate pace, savoring the feeling of you. But you were very impatient. After months of missing Law and his cock you wanted more and you wanted it now.

“Harder, Law! Faster!”

Law used to tease you and used to love making you beg for him, but at this moment he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was so painfully close and he needed the release.

He lifted you up off his dick until only the tip was inside you before slamming you back down on him, making you cry out. He continued to buck his hips against you at a ruthless pace, losing all control.

“Fuck, ah, Y/N-ya, you feel so fucking good”, He growled.

Both you two were moaning and cursing as Law fucked you against the wall, completely lost in each other. You clutched his back desperately as he continued abusing your cunt. His length was hitting that spot deep inside you over and over again and you could feel your stomach tightening.

“L-Law I’m gonna, ah!”

Your legs started to shake as you came undone around him, coating his cock with your juices. Law continued to fuck you through your high, desperately chasing his as his thrusts became more sporadic and uneven.

With a deep groan, he came deep inside you, pumping a few times through his orgasm before pulling out of you. You almost fell if it wasn’t for his strong hold he had of you.

He pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, both you panting trying to catch your breathes. You two stood there, clutching each other not wanting to part from one another. You gave Law a lazy smile, feeling like you could stay forever like this.

Law absolutely loved your fucked out expression. He loved the soft sighs coming from your lips. He loved holding you close to him. He loved everything about you. He couldn’t deny it any longer.

I love her

.

.

Author’s note: AHHH I finally finished it. This has took me so long to finish but it’s done and I am satisfied. Request from: @valval08 hope you like it 💓

#one piece #trafalgar law #law one piece #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece law #op fanfic #trafalgar law smut #law smut #one piece smut #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law fanfiction #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #one piece fanfiction

[grapejuicestyless]

Could You Imagine That?

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: You failed. The gold, the cross, the fame, the fortune. But really, who cared? Not when you had the best gift of all. Inspired by the song: Forever by Noah Kahan

We listen to Pope and Kiara argue about who knows how to build a fire better, throwing logs into a heap by a pile of rocks and lining stones in a circle in the sand. John B and Cleo make beds for everyone to sleep on and Sarah works on some sort of spear for us. Yet, JJ and I haven’t even given a second thought of how long we just might be here for.

Maybe a few more hours, a couple days or years. In the end, did it really matter? We’d been just fine so far and we’d swear the feeling of freedom was worth it no matter how starved we became or how cold the nights were. We’d screamed about Poguelandia hundreds or times already, calling out the name of this great island and hoisting the flag we’d painted with rocks and the mud packed beneath them. Our hands pruning from the salt water and our shorts left on the edge of the shore line while we ran around in our underwear, splashing around like little kids and laughing like old friends should.

“We’re broke!” We laughed, finding the fact that we failed more funny than anything. Because had we really failed if we got a greater gift than what being filthy rich could give us?

“But real rich in our heads!” JJ would scream back, chasing me down along the edge of the ocean. And when the waves slowed my strides he lifted me from my waist with his tanned arms, not minding how our wet bodies stuck together like glue and our clothes would surely stink like ocean for as long as we’d be here.

“Won’t be alone for the rest of our lives!” I laughed in his hold, and his grip restricted my lungs but I would take the ache that came with it over any other feeling in the world. Because even after he loosens his grip, he never really lets me go and I am reminded of how he’s always within arms reach. Ready to make me smile, make me laugh. And it’s worth more than anything money could buy.

“Can you guys help us?” Kiara calls out desperately, but even she can’t hide the smile on her face, how much she loves the idea of it just being her and the Pogues all together and safe for just a small moment in the grand timeline of adventure ahead. No parents, no threats, no blood or tears. Just the sun and sand beneath our feet. A good cooked fish roasting over the fire and beds woven with leaves under our heads.

“Come in the waters just fine!” JJ splashes, catching a glare from Pope as the salt water briefly tames the fire they just started. And when Kiara catches his line of vision, we don’t have to look back to know their broken laughter is because their stripping to join us in the sea. Ready to splash around carelessly like children do, like we do.

“Can you imagine being here, like this forever? No more window shopping or late rent!” I laugh, bearing all my teeth in my smile when Kiara wraps her arms over my shoulders and places a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Won’t be alone for the rest of our lives!” She repeats my words back to me, eyes shining with the glow of the sunset that casts a warm hue over her sunburnt cheeks.

“Poguelandia forever, baby!” JJ’s arms pull Kiara away from me, and like glue, I’m stuck to him with nothing more to offer than the sweetest smile and the world shining in my eyes. I feel more alive than ever and theres not an ounce of gold that could replace it.

“Oh my god!” Cleo laughs at the scene in front of her, dry wood under her arm and a soft blush in her cheek from the sun. We’re all drenched in salt or sweat but we can’t help but feel absolutely okay with it.

You could fly over head at that very moment, on the search for miserable teens in need of help and you wouldn’t even look twice. The way everyone laughed like brothers and sisters and cherished what the world gave them, you’d think we were on some vacation. Like we hadn’t washed up here by accident.

Broken bones and aching muscles worth every moment that led us to this island and this life.

Looking back at JJ, I see the stars in his eyes and the world under his feet. It’s all we’ve ever wanted. A simple life by the ocean with all the people we love. So, we might be broke, we might be hungry and by god we might smell but by god are we richer than most.

“Poguelandia forever.” JJ whispers only for my ears to hear, forehead pressing against mine and his eyes observing the crinkles by my eyes. His thumbs lift from my hips to rub against my cheeks. Then he kisses me, kisses me in a way I hadn’t felt since before death looked at us in the eyes and grief was all we knew. Like we both knew finally that it would all work out and we would be okay.

When we pull away, we share the same hazy look we had plastered on our cheeks before and his hands plant themselves firmly on my hips once again. Squeezing the skin between his fingers playfully and drowning out the world around us.

“Could you imagine that.”

#jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #jj maybank fluff #p4l #jj maybank x pogue!reader #poguelandia #the pogues #pogue!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader

[sorrowsofsilence]

I Was Always Yours • 2

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 5.1k

Part One

Warnings: smut 18+ (mentions of PnV, wrap it b4 u tap it pls), fluff, female/male receiving, anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, alcohol, dirty talk

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Authors note: This is part 2! Initially I wasn’t planning on doing a second part but there was a lot of love on the first <3 so thank you! Hope you enjoy this one! (With 2 scenes of smut for all of us sick fucks to enjoy!)

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

Noah’s back rested against the bedroom wall, the red LEDs illuminating his room. The clock read 3am, way past our bedtime, yet here I was, succumbing myself to Noah’s need.

“I can’t stop thinking about a few days ago,” he had said as I sat in his bed, days after we reconnected. I was playing on my phone while he was messing around on his computer, working on music. We had hung out non-stop since seeing each other; catching up, sharing stories, reminiscing, and just spending time together like we used to with an added activity.

“Me either,” I had replied, sitting up as my heart began racing thinking about it. What were we now? Were we still just friends? Things were not the same, things were different, but It was a good difference, it was how things always should’ve been…but was it the right choice?

“Nicks asleep,” he had said, turning his chair to face me. It was silent for a moment, as we had stared at each other, trying to read the expression on one another’s face.

“I need you so bad Y/N, you have me completely whipped.” He had said, before standing up and walking over to me: he had started kissing me rigidly, taking me into his arms.

“You need to earn your way back to my lips,” Noah whispered as he groaned deeply, his long, inked fingers tangled within the strands of my hair, wrapped around in a desirable hold.

He held my head in place firmly as my mouth slid up and down, hand holding the rest, tongue swirling around the tip. My legs supported me from below as I kneeled before him at his mercy.

“Christ Y/N, you got cheated on when you can suck dick like this?” Noah looked down at me, eyes fluttering closed before tilting his head back in bliss. His hips rolled into my face gently, beginning to fuck my mouth as his other hand joined the first, gripping the other side of my head, “Man's fucking loss,” he scoffed in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes and internally laughed, choking on Noah before looking up through my lashes, watching as his mouth hung open slightly, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Watching the hold I had over him turned me on immensely. He was falling apart because of me.

I gagged on him for a moment longer, pushing myself as far as I could, before pulling off of him, the string of saliva following my lips.

“Fuck,” Noah gave me a breathy laugh, looking down in awe with a lopsided grin “You were gone from me for too long, you’re telling me we could have been doing this years ago?”

I gave him a small smile, “I think we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

I wrapped my hand around him, stroking up and down, rotating my wrist, before attaching my mouth to him again. Noah’s hands gripped my hair tighter, keeping me in place once again as he fucked me.

“Such a pretty girl, letting me fuck your mouth like this,” Noah pulled me closer to his abdomen as he hit the back of my throat. I gagged but closed my eyes to keep going.

“Y/N, look at me,” Noah demanded and my eyes snapped upwards towards his own, and he watched me watch him. With his lips parted he observed my every move, heavy pants heaving from his chest, shallow grunts pouring from his soul.

“Shit,” Noah’s body began to twitch, and seconds later my mouth was filled, threads of his release coating the back of my throat.

Noah tucked my hair behind my ears, rubbing his fingers down underneath my chin, “Good girls swallow,” he said, “all of it.”

I moaned at his words and obeyed, watching his eyes glint with satisfaction and complete reverence as I sucked.

Drinking in all of him I pulled away, and Noah leaned down, pulling my chin towards him, planting a kiss on my lips. I melted into him, sighing with contentment as he pulled up his black shorts.

“I was always yours,” he said, “but you keep proving to me that I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

+=+=+=+=+=+=

“Folio, Jolly this is Y/N: Y/N, this is Folio and Jolly,” Noah introduced me officially to Nick and Joakim, the drummer and guitarist, and I immediately felt giddy. Although known Noah and Ruffilo for years, I had never met the other two current members in person; only through photographs.

I had to admit I was a little excited, because I really did enjoy their music, and therefore have always wanted to meet the other two.

“It’s cool to see you guys in person and not on a screen,” I laughed shyly, shaking their hands. Folio squinted with his eyes, his crooked tooth smile even more charming face to face. Jolly pulled me in for a shake and a hug, catching me off guard. I felt flush as his long hair tickled my face, patting his back.

“Nice to finally meet you! Noah hasn’t shut up about you.” Folio said, grinning.

Noah ran up from behind, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me up. I squealed with my back against his chest, laughing as he swung me around, playfully, “yea, because I missed her,” Noah laughed, placing his face in the crook of my neck, still holding on to me from behind.

I held on to his arms that crossed my chest, blushing at his signs of affection in front of his friends.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.” Jolly smiled warmly, “fucking goof.”

“So, you guys were friends growing up?” Folio asked as we all started walking towards the car. Noah had insisted I ride with the boys to the concert, coming early to spend time and see how everything behind the scenes worked. I told Noah I’d be happy to wait in line with the rest of the crowd, but he was taking this VIP very seriously.

“You want me to punish you if you don’t listen to me?”

Yes please, I had thought; but all I could do was stare up at him as he slowly backed me up towards the kitchen table.

“Noah,” I whined, tilting my head at him as he gripped my hips, his cologne filling my senses, “I’m going to watch the show from the crowd, but I’ll come with you everywhere else.”

My back hit the wood, and Noah leaned over me, placing a kiss on my forehead before kissing down to my lips.

“Good,” he mumbled, his hand sliding around my hip to behind, squeezing me, “but you better be behind the stage by the time I walk off at the end of Dethrone, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Yeah, Y/N, Noah and I went to school together,” Ruffilo said, offering me a hand to pull me into the car. I sat between him and Noah, Jolly and Folio sitting in the back row.

“Cool,” Folio said, before drumming on the back of the seat. I watched him, smiling.

“You’re pretty good at that hey?” I said, and he smiled back, shrugging.

“I’m hyped for today, I fucking love this place.”

We started driving towards the venue, and the closer we got to our destination, the more I noticed Noah’s anxiety beginning to spike. The entire time he kept his gaze out the window, hand gripping my thigh, resting his chin on his palm. His leg bounced rapidly, and ever so often I felt his fingers squeeze me, his hand beginning to vibrate.

I looked at him with concern, the smile from my conversation with Jolly fading from my lips as Noah took a brief sharp exhale, staying extremely still except for his leg. I placed my hand on top of his own, and Noah immediately stopped bouncing.

You okay? I mouthed, to which he shrugged, his dark brown eyes looking at me with apprehension before turning his gaze back out the window, the concrete jungle swaying past in a grey, lifeless blur. The boys became quiet, pretending to be preoccupied but watched; knowing that Noah was beginning to have a panic attack.

I flipped our hands, entwining my fingers with Noah’s and resting them on his moving leg, rubbing my thumb delicately across his skin. His hands were clammy but I held on in compassion, creating a soothing, rhythmic touch on the top of his hand. I rested my head on his shoulder, to which he placed his on top of mine.

Without saying anything I began to inhale through my nose, expiring throughout my mouth, and Noah eventually caught on, mimicking my breathing pattern. Opening up his palm, I ran the tips of my finger up and down each appendage, tracing the outline of his hand before circling his palm, moving from the centre outwards, before repeating the pattern. Noah analyzed my movements for a moment longer, and I sat up, turning my body to face him.

He watched me, eyes still filled with worry but transitioning to appreciation, before he closed his eyes, pushing his face into the side of mine affectionately. He stayed there for a moment, the soft breath of his exhale brushing across my cheek. With my free hand, I reached up, pushing the bangs delicately out of his face, running my hands through his hair, hoping the sensations helped distract him from his anxiety, even for a brief moment.

I felt sympathy for him, knowing that this must be the anxiety Nick mentioned that Noah’s struggled with lately. Fans have been crazy, and for someone who has always had a low social battery, I can imagine it must be even more difficult for him.

I gave Noah a small smile, before leaving in, giving him a delicate kiss of love and confidence, showing him that he is supported.

“Better?” I whispered, and Noah squeezed my hand in response, eyes lingering on me for a moment more before he let out another breath.

“I don’t know how I survived so long without you.” He whispered back, almost sighing in relief.

I couldn’t help but blush, resting my head on him again, and he wrapped his arm around me now, leaning me into his chest.

Once we arrived we were rushed into the building. Thankfully there were no fans out yet because we were so early- but I was glad because otherwise, rumours would start. Noah held my hand the entire way, only letting go once we arrived at the green room, and him heading to the washroom.

My eyes followed him as he left, the door closing quickly. I then turned to look at Ruffilo who patted me on the head.

“Nice work Y/N/N.” he hugged me, and I breathed into his chest, sighing.

Folio nodded in agreement, “Wow. I haven’t seen him calm down that fast in a while.”

I frowned, looking at the three of them sadly, “this is a usual occurrence?”

Jolly nodded, “unfortunately. Ever since the fans found out shit about where we lived and dug up stuff from his past, he hasn’t been the same.”

I turned, watching the door, waiting for Noah to return, “that breaks my heart.”

The boys nodded, agreeing.

“But honestly, we still have a fuck ton of fun,” Ruffilo said, reassuring me.

“Yea,” Folio said, beginning to drum the air, “now we get to fuck around until sound check.”

I laughed, “And that means?”

“Tomfoolery,” Jolly said, a glint in his eye, “and shots!”

+=+=

“Fuck I hate vodka,” Noah grumbled, eying the shot glass with a look of disgust, lip curling.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Sebastian,” I raised a brow, the boys cheering as I downed the shot, my nose scrunching as the alcohol burned my throat.

Noah plugged his nose before shooting it back, shaking his head as he swallowed it, coughing.

“That shit is literally vile,” he whined, chugging some juice to mask the flavour.

“Don’t be so dramatic pretty boy, you’re fine,” Jolly laughed, patting Noah’s back.

“You don’t know shit about fuck,” Noah glared, laughing.

“I don’t know shit about fuckin, but I know shit about everything else!” Jolly said, downing a shot himself, and I laughed, smiling harder than I probably have in years.

“Aight boys, time for soundcheck,” Noah said, before extending a hand for me to take. Entwining our fingers he led me with them. I had to admit this was very exciting, getting to see the process of how behind the scenes worked.

Once each section was set up, Folio started drumming, and I watched in amazement as his feet followed his arms, beginning to alternating patterns, hitting the double beat and cymbals.

“He’s extremely talented!” I said, appreciating the opportunity to watch Nick without any other sound present- just the drummer.

“Folio is a complete animal on stage.” Noah agreed, folding his arms and watching in approval.

It was Ruffilo’s turn next, then Jolly, and then Noah.

Noah held the mic close, fiddling with his earpiece, hitting a variety of notes. I watched in amazement, falling completely in love with his ‘acoustic’ voice. It was rare that I got to hear him bare, without any music.

Once they finished, they packed up, and Noah explained how the rest of the show was going to work. They were going to let the audience in soon.

“Are you sure you want to stay in the crowd?” Noah asked, reluctant.

I nodded reassuringly, “of course! I gotta get the bad omen experience.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Nick joined us, placing an arm across my shoulders.

“But- how else is he supposed to get a good luck kiss between songs?” Ruffilo teased as I leaned into him, slapping his chest playfully.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “he never needed those before and did just fine.”

Noah gave me a cheeky grin, “ok but now that I can have a good luck kiss, it’s gotta be a ritual now.”

I shook my head, smiling at him, “Whatever, I’m going to go get my fangirl on.”

I turned into Nick, squeezing him, “break a leg, but not literally,” I said.

“I’ll try not to or will I-“ he laughed, before turning to head to Folio and Jolly.

“I’ll let security know to keep an extra close eye on you, I don’t want you getting hurt- especially if a wall of death breaks out.” Noah said cautiously, “And I want you to be against the bar the entire time, and make sure to stay centred so I can keep an eye on you, ok?”

I tilted my head to the side, giving him a ‘really’ look.

“Noah,” I grabbed his t-shirt by the collar, standing on my tiptoes as I pulled him close to me, noses inches apart. Noah’s breathing quickened, his lips parting gently as his eyes trailed between my mouth and eyes rapidly.

“I’ll be okay,” I whispered, closing the gap between our lips, and kissing him hard. Our mouths moved together, Noah wrapping his arms around me, folding into each other.

I pulled away, Noah following reluctantly, moaning in protest.

“Good luck,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Noah kissed me again quickly, before letting me pull away. As I turned to follow security, he grabbed my wrist, holding me for a moment, his eyes darkening. I watched him confused, before the sentence left his lips.

“Don’t forget what I said, you better be backstage by the time Dethrone is finished.”

A flash of heat washed throughout my body as I nodded, and Noah smiled. “Good. See you soon princess.”

Noah walked away, turning back once to give me a brief wink, and I flushed, following security towards the stage. I hopped down, standing right against the barricade.

Within fifteen minutes the venue started filling, the string of fans running towards the front, some even beginning to push into my back. I held onto the bar firmly, not letting myself be shoved to leave the spot. I shared eye contact with a security guard and I nodded, reassuring him I was okay.

About an hour went by, and eventually, the lights went dark, and the fans erupted into a roar.

I too began screaming, the adrenaline of excitement coursing through my veins. Seconds later the stage lit up with a visual, a video beginning to play. Noah, lying on a mattress with an initiation mask began speaking:

Why do you care about these people?

They don’t care about you- none of them?

They don’t even know you- because you haven’t shown them.

Black and white visuals flashed on the screen, and my heart raced with excitement.

Every day, you’ll wake up, and there’ll be less of you.

You live your life for them,

and they don’t even see you.

You don’t even see yourself.

Jolly walked out on stage, still completely dark, but the guitar riff to artificial suicide began.

Can you hear me through the white noise?

Fans screamed, bodies pushing against me in excitement, waiting for the brunette god to walk onto the stage.

The bass dropped, Folio’s drum beat taking over Jolly’s riff, as Ruffilo walked across the stage, masked, bass pumping through my ears. Fans howled again.

“Can you hear me you sick fucks?”

The crowd went feral.

Noah strutted into the stage, the embodiment of confidence and poise, swinging his arms before stopping mid-stage, gazing over the crowd, a hand covering his chest in appreciation for the turnout. His face was covered, only his eyes and mouth barely visible, as a black jacket and hood covered his body- it was almost a shame he was so modest, but I knew that in a few songs, he would strip, leaving himself exposed in that tight, black, vest top me and every other Noah fan admired.

“Can you hear me through the white noise!” He screamed into the mic, raising it in the air as smoke filled the venue, and I hollered in awe, yelling for my boys.

“Soaked in the neon glows

Silver-forked tongues talking to you in the digital snow

A glitch in the chain, a loop in the brain

You wanted to break, but you still wanna play the game!”

Noah bobbed around the stage, Jolly and Ruffilo head banging and I took it all in. The lights flashing, the smoke, the raging excitement radiating from the crowd- I smiled, eyes brimming with tears. I couldn’t help but feel proud of Noah and Nick, almost in disbelief that this was for them. They’ve grown so much, and it was entirely different getting to be part of the crowd myself compared to watching them online.

I screamed until my lungs felt raw, my throat burning, sweat dripping down my face.

All of this time sitting inside, sitting in the dark

And every night I can see why you could never stop, yeah

Lying is hard, and the truth comes out anyway

You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate

Noah sat in front of me now, singing into his mic, his hair covering his eyes as I watched, completely fascinated.

There's no another way, don't let me go

Don't dig another grave today

I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know

Who I was before I faded away into the grey

I gazed at Noah as he walked across the stage slowly, singing intentionally with every word, eyes scanning the crowd before he landed on me.

The song finished, and there was a short break, before Noah came back, jacket gone, the only thing remaining a pair of black cargo pants, boots, and that stupid fucking tank top.

The lighting defined Noah’s arms, his tattoos glistened from the sweat, and my heart began to race once again. My mind began to race with a million thoughts, but it kept landing on how good he’d look with his head tilted back as I took him in my mouth- or how much I wanted him to give me everything from behind, hands wrapped around my throat.

“What is up my friends!” Noah boomed, waving his arms, as the crowd yelled.

“We are bad omens and we are so fucking thankful to be here tonight!”

Nick hit the kick peddle of the drum kit in excitement, acknowledging the fans.

“We are gonna play an old song for ya, how does that sound?”

The crowd cheered.

“Who knows if I’m there?”

The crowd screamed again.

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

Noah crouched in front of the crowd, reaching his arms out. He followed down the front, until stopping right in front of me. Arm extended, the body of hands around me grabbing onto his arms, but he left his hand open.

Noah sang into the mic, watching my eyes with every move. I stared up at him with a smile breaking out onto my face.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

I raised my arm, grabbing onto Noah’s hand, feeling my breath hasten as an immense amount of emotions washed over me. Here I was, being sung to, in front of thousands of people- yet it felt like it was just me and Noah.

His words were for me, and my heart raced, pounding out of my chest as we gazed at each other. He squeezed my hand before letting go, making his way down the rest of the stage.

There was a short intermission, and I felt my phone buzz.

Checking it, I noticed Noah texted.

‘Don’t forget what I said.’

I chuckled, shaking my head as I responded.

‘I’ll be there you dork. You guys sound fucking amazing, you’re killing it.’

Seconds later, Noah responded.

‘Don’t take your eyes off me for this next one.’

My breath hitched in my throat, and the lights dimmed inside the venue again, before the bass began, introducing The Death of Peace of Mind.

My mind began to race again, and as Noah stepped onto the stage, his eyes immediately latched onto me.

I made another mistake, thought I could change

Thought I could make it out

Promises break, need to hear you say

You're gonna keep it now

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you touch, the way you taste

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames

Hanging upside down

For granted, in vain, I took everything

I ever cared about

Noah never broke eye contact during the entire song. Despite walking across the entire stage, his eyes never left mine- and I refused to let mine leave his.

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you fuck, the way you taste

Noah ‘Look at me’ Sebastian let his fingers flow to his lips, taking the shape of a V as he licked between them, the crowd going ballistic. I felt my own stomach begin to churn.

You come and go in waves

Leaving me in your wake

You come and go in waves

Swallowing everything

Are you satisfied?

The crowd screamed again, and once the song finished the introduction to Dethrone began. I motioned over the security, who helped me crawl over the barrier and escorted me away from the crowd. As I headed up the stage and walked behind the curtain, I watched the side view of the performance, the boys thrashing out their last song of the night, all energy put into this song.

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

So I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

Don't let 'em hit you on the way out when I take your place

As soon as the song finished they walked off stage, the crowd screaming behind them. All the boys smiled as they passed me, nodding sweatily. Noah on the other hand immediately grabbed me, kissing me firmly.

“Good fucking girl.” He said, smiling as his chest heaved with exhaustion. My face blushed again, especially knowing everyone around us heard his praise.

The crowd was screaming behind us again, and the boys had two minutes to compose themselves before going out to wave and bow. I waited patiently, watching them run out and smile with gratitude at the fans below them, throwing an assortment of picks and guitar sticks.

After a few minutes, the boys came back, and before I could say anything Noah instantly grabbed my wrist, pulling me along with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused, but my insides bubbled with excitement.

“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you,” Noah muttered through gritted teeth, sending my heart into a frenzy of nerves. He tugged me through the halls, before finding a door, shoving me into the room.

It appeared to be a smaller version of a green room, the only things inside being a washroom and a couch. Almost like it was placed here just for us.

Locking the door swiftly behind him, Noah led me to the black letter couch sitting down, pulling me onto his lap.

I straddled him, his hands working their way underneath my skirt, gripping at the now-exposed skin.

“You didn’t wear shorts?” Noah moaned, almost instantly hardening at the realization. His tattooed hands ran along the back of my thighs, squeezing periodically, bringing his lips into my neck, biting at the skin gently.

“Do I turn you on that much?” I breathed hastily, closing my eyes, enjoying Noah’s worship over my body. He was fully indulging in me, taking every moment for himself.

“You don’t even fucking know,” he whispered, tugging the shirt off of my body, letting his lips trail across my shoulders, “the only thought I’ve had lately is what it would be like getting to eat you out after performing.”

I smiled at his words, closing my eyes as his lips trailed along my torso, my hips beginning to grind into his. ��Are we— are we really going to do this here?”

Noah hummed in response, squeezing me to symbolize a yes.

“Let’s make your thoughts a reality then?” I whispered, and Noah’s eyes leered at me, completely insatiable with hunger.

His hands roamed across my body, and as I rotated on top of him, digging my core into his own, he let out a low groan, body thrusting upwards, slowly.

Noah’s hands pulled away my underwear, leaving me fully exposed underneath my skirt. “God I love the idea of you having nothing on underneath this, such easy access.”

I heard voices passing down the hall, and my head snapped towards the door, chest pounding.

“Th-There are people outside this door—” I said, pushing off Noah slightly, but his inked arms wrapped around me, pulling me back.

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” Noah said, chuckling lowly, “Just sit on my fucking face already.” 

Noah stayed sitting, but pushed himself deeper into the couch as I crawled up, allowing myself to be right above him, almost hanging over the couch; his breath left a cooling sensation on my skin, and I shuddered in anticipation.

“Spread your legs for me,” Noah demanded, pulling at my thighs.

“Spread them wider,” he said, and I tried, splitting myself completely for his need.

“Noah, please,” I whimpered, my body soaking for him, yet dreaded not being touched.

“Look at you,” he tskd, letting his long fingers rub along my folds, “coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 

“Please,” I whispered ever so lightly, gripping into the back of the couch.

Noah’s fingers danced around my skin for a moment longer before he explored my body, inviting himself into my space and causing my thighs to desire to squeeze shut; but Noah held a firm grip, forcing me against his mouth. His tongue circulated me, before he sucked, moaning against my sensitive skin.

“Jesus Christ, I love the way you taste,” Noah slapped my behind, squeezing so hard I knew there would be a mark. I winced at the impact, but my body began to convulse against his lips as he assaulted me where I needed him most.

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that,” I moaned, rolling myself into his skin, trying to create more friction for my need. One of Noah’s hands left my skin, trailing down towards his cargo pants as he freed himself, and began to touch his own body.

“I want you to fuck me so bad Noah,” I cried, pushing into him desperately as I watched him pleasure his own impulse, slim fingers cascading through his heat.

“You’ll get that once we get home.” He said, panting from beneath me, “I want you to come all over my face.”

My mouth hung open as my orgasm built, ears began to ring. I let out a moan way louder than intended, causing Noah to begin to thrust into his hips, his body twitching with complete craving. His breathing quickened and I felt him struggle against me as I cried out, pushing against him one final time as I came undone, and Noah released all over his taped hand, rubbing out his own desire.

I panted, pulling myself off of his face and down into his lap, sitting on his mess.

“Imagine how amazing you’ll sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” Noah’s eyes were closed as he smiled and tilted his head back in satisfaction, out of breath.

After a moment I pulled him into a kiss, and we whispered praises against one another’s lips, which was met with gentle moans. 

“I love getting to know you like this.” He sighed, pulling back to look at me as we heaved together, exhausted.

I smiled at him, pressing my forehead against his own, appreciating what Noah and I had begun to build amongst our friendship.

I kissed him again, softly, my body flushing with heat again, “Will you let me ride you when we get back?”

Noah’s deep October eyes opened with lust, staring me down once again with an immense amount of need. “Only if you moan my name for everyone to hear.”

Oh god help me

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian smut #bad omens x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian davis #bad omens smut #bad omens band #bad omens #metal #metalcore #heavy metal #smut #I was always yours

[otrtbs]

ART HEIST, BABY OUTTAKES (From The Vault)

SUMMARY: Two scrapped scenes from Art Heist, Baby! that didn't make the cut. Done in celebration of the one year anniversary of Art Heist, Baby! being complete! (Where did all the time go?)

WORD COUNT: 2k

(okay, for clarity, the first scene takes place sometime between chapter 15 and chapter 16 of Art Heist, Baby! and the second scene takes place during chapter 37 of Art Heist, Baby! One Regulus and one James POV <3)

“Oof.” 

Regulus can’t help the smile that flashes across his face, there and then gone, at James’ little noise of surprise. James doesn’t have time to say anything else before Regulus’ mouth is on his, kissing him in fervent, electric delight that only secrecy could inspire. 

Regulus always loves this best, pulling James into some room on the third floor after he dismisses the rest of the class. His hands running over the soft fabric of James’ shirt or the smooth expanse of his torso underneath as he hears Mary and Lily tear through the halls just beyond the closed door laughing, or Peter humming to himself softly as he makes his way down the stairs. All of them completely unaware that just behind the door they unknowingly walked past, Regulus was snogging James Potter's face off and attempting to shove his hands down his trousers. It’s times like these when Regulus curses himself for making all his stupid rules about the heist. He’d much rather be able to drag James through the hallways of this house and into his bedroom without a care in the world of who they happened to pass by.

“If you could be anything in the world, what would you want to be?” James gasps, his head falling back against the wall Regulus has him pressed up against. “But you can’t say what you are now, you have to pick something different.”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s halfway to looking debauched already. Just how Regulus likes him. 

“Because, personally, I think I would want to be a dragon or something,” James continues once it’s clear Regulus has no intention of answering. “A red dragon that could breathe fire and fly. That would be cool. Oh, or I would be a Renaissance jouster. I could ride up on my horse and ask you for your favour in front of the whole kingdom. That would be fun.” A beat of silence. “What about you?”

Regulus lets out a derisive noise as he detaches his lips from James’ neck. “Seriously?” 

“You could be anything. Not just career-wise. But you could be a rock in a stream or a cloud or a microwave.” 

“James,” Regulus isn’t proud of the way he almost whines at this. They have very few minutes before lunch will be ready and then they’ll be called downstairs. 

“Just humour me for a minute, Regulus,” James grins as Regulus pulls away, shushing him slightly in case someone walks by and hears them. “Please,” he whispers, still smiling radiantly. 

This wasn’t a new thing for James. He was always asking Regulus all sorts of questions. When he said he wanted to know any and everything about Regulus, he meant it. And of course, because James was James, Regulus would always indulge him.

“Okay, give me a moment to think about it,” Regulus sighed, furrowing his brows. “And I can’t just pick to be who I am now and move on with it?” 

“Nope,” James shook his head, placing his hands behind his back as leaned against the door. “That’s against the rules.” 

It was a silly question, but Regulus still found himself thinking about it thoughtfully. If he could be anything, what would he want to be? 

Strangely, his mind wandered to Sirius. 

Sirius, who was so close but still seemed so far away. Sirius, who would throw himself in front of Walburga and Orion’s rage to protect Regulus every time, even when Regulus didn’t deserve it. Sirius who would knock on Regulus’ door in the middle of the night just to make sure that he was okay, who asked him what he was learning in school when his parents couldn’t be bothered, who made sure Regulus kept warm in the winter, who always remembered his birthday even when nobody else did. And how did Regulus repay him? He chose to stay with his parents instead of leaving with Sirius, even after all of that, and now Sirius hates him, and probably always would. 

If he could be anything in the world, he supposes he’d want to be a good brother, or, at least a better one than he was in this life. Or maybe he’d want to be brave. Brave like Sirius. Brave like James. And maybe that bravery would help him to be a better brother. 

He frowned at the sinking feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked this game anymore. 

Quickly, he looked at James who was eagerly awaiting his answer with a smile on his face. 

James who wanted to be a fucking dragon or a jousting knight wanted this game to be fun. Something light. 

“Well, I guess I’d be the Prince of the kingdom giving you my favour in front of everyone before your big joust,” he says after a moment, giving a small smile as something in James’ face softens. 

“You’d want that?” He asks, looking at Regulus through his glasses that were still lopsided from Regulus’ previous fierce snogging. 

Regulus bit his bottom lip and shrugged. Going where James went didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If James would let him, if James would want him to. Maybe some of his bravery would rub off on him somehow. “Sure, why not?”

James’ hand shakes as he reaches for the pink sticky note. He can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by it, even though Evan and Barty are standing right behind him, ready with the painting and a ruler and a tape measurer and everything else you could possibly need to ensure that a painting is perfectly centred and straight on a wall. 

For a minute he just stares at it, hand outstretched and trembling, taking in Regulus’ curly handwriting. James wonders if Regulus put a lot of thought into this sticky note. If he hovered the pen over the sheet of paper and thought long and hard about what painting he wanted. If Regulus went through every room in their house envisioning the perfect place to hang this painting, trying to place the pink sticky note above the spot where he wanted their bed to be, or in the hallway across from the kitchen, or upstairs. Taking it down and re-sticking it to different places until he found the perfect one. He wonders if Regulus had gone over every painstaking detail in his mind just as James had done over these last two years, or if he had just known. 

It’s silly, hesitating over a sticky note like this. It had fallen down from its spot on the wall numerous times over the weeks and months that it had been there. So why was it so hard to take it down now? It’s what Regulus wanted, and James never had any issue with the other sticky notes. He buzzed around the house, taking each sticky note down with him as he went about unpacking Regulus' books and planting a garden and filling up the closet. He didn’t throw any of the notes out either, though. Instead, he kept them in a small box at the back of his closet for safekeeping. That’s exactly where this sticky note would go if he could just bring himself to take it down. 

Barty lets out a little sigh from behind him and James turns around just in time to see Evan elbow him harshly in the ribs and the spell is broken. 

With trembling fingers James pluckes the sticky note off the wall, a little bit of paint coming up with the reinforcement tape he had added to ensure the paper stopped falling down, and held it to his chest tightly. Quietly, without looking away from the spot where the sticky note had been he whispered to Barty and Evan, “Alright, let’s put it up.”

That night James dreams constantly. 

He dreams of the waves crashing against the shore of his favourite beach with reckless abandon and he dreams of car chases and gilded frames and the smell of turpentine, but most importantly, he dreams of Regulus. 

“It’ll be sunny and warm there. I love the sunlight you know,” Regulus murmurs sleepily.

They’re in the house in New Hampshire together and Regulus is starting his favourite activity of only opening up in the dark, when he doesn’t have to see or be seen, but James doesn’t mind. 

“Hmm?” he hums, pulling him closer. It’s late, and James guesses that he only has a couple of hours before he has to be up learning about the heist from one of Regulus' many classes. 

“In Brazil. The warmth, the light. I don’t know, I feel like the rays will hit my chest and dislodge all the dark sludge from my heart, and for a moment I can just sit there and be golden and bright. It’s foolish,” Regulus sighs and James can hear his frown, even in the dark. Always like the tides, pushing in and pulling back.  

“I don’t think so,” he responds quickly. “I think it’s nice.” He attempts to hold Regulus tighter, to warm him up somehow because he sounds a little too sad tonight for James’ liking and he’s starting to feel strangely cold in his arms. “But for the record, I’ve always thought you were pretty fucking bright and brilliant, Regulus.”

Regulus has a habit of seeing himself as something dark and stormy. Something turbulent and destructive, but James knows better. James knows the truth. 

Regulus hums lightly, something soft and sweet. “I know, James. It’s a nice thought.” 

James wants to say something else, he wants to run his fingers through Regulus’ hair and kiss his forehead and convince him of his warmth, but before he gets the chance to, he wakes up. 

For a long while, James just lays there, flat on his back, unmoving in the aftermath. He listens to the beat of his heart and his shallow breathing. It had been several weeks since James had dreamed of Regulus like this. 

He used to hate it. He used to find the reminder of Regulus’ absence unbearable when he opened his eyes, but these days he doesn’t mind it. 

When he dreams of Regulus now, it makes it missing him a little bit better. He always misses Regulus, but this way it feels like James just got to see him. It makes it seem as if the last time James got to see Regulus was just the day before instead of two years ago. 

“Oh, Regulus? Yeah, I just saw him last night.”

“I held him in my arms only yesterday.”

Sometimes it’s a comforting thought to have. 

“You would love Brazil, Reg,” James whispers in the dark to his ceiling. Alone in his empty bedroom. “I hope it’s sunny and bright wherever you are. I hope you're not cold.” 

Barty and Evan stick around for a little while after the painting is put up. They field several calls of anger and astonishment from Sirius both from their phones and from James’ phone. They attempt to convince James to come back to Vegas with them for the thousandth time, but he declines. It’ll be good for him to sit in the house for a while, now that it’s finally finished. 

It feels like an end in so many ways, but not in the mournful way James expected it to. It felt as complete as it possibly could be without Regulus. Always there, like a chip in his favourite mug. Not shattered, still usable, but always with a quick sting of pain if you nicked your lip on the chipped rim. Still, it was the only mug James would ever want to drink out of.

He looks forward to discovering what new beginning this end will bring about for him. He can only hope that it's a nice one.

While he doesn't take Barty and Evan up on their offer to come back to Vegas with them, he does take them to the airport. He walks them as far as they will let him go and waves goodbye until they are out of sight and begins the journey back to his little house. 

He thinks about the simple things. Things he needs to buy from the store– more lemons, some cleaner, cinnamon. He makes a note to call Marlene to fill her in on his recent adventures, and reminds himself that it’s about time to check the financial accounts to ensure everything was still running smoothly. 

He lets these thoughts fill his mind all the way until he gets home, and when he opens the door to his house, to their house, he sees the painting. A ship sailing bravely through the blue ocean, cutting through the waves into the unknown expanses beyond. He smiles to himself as he sees it lit up in a brilliant warm glow. The rays of the sun kiss it gently and fill it with radiance. Then, ever so softly, James closes the door behind him.

#nat writes #art heist baby! #happy one year to art heist!!! #so much love in my heart for this story and these characters <33 #can't believe a year ago i was uprooting my life to move across the ocean and finishing my first ever story!!! and now i'm here #surreal a bit #okay love youse <3 im sappy

[f1nalboys]

Watching Part 2 ; Stu Macher and Billy Loomis

Stu Macher x Fem!AFAB!Reader x Billy Loomis

haiiii :3 heres a short part 2 / continuation of Watching that i posted last year! this one is more so billy and stu but youre there youre watching and youre loving what youre seeing fr >:) maybe expect a part 3 but idk when thatll be, peace and love! this is another multi-may fic created and ran by @bisexual-horror-fan so <3 hehe

WORD COUNT: 960

WARNINGS: nsfw, handjob, dom!stu and sub!billy but theyre both switches, dirty talk, voyeuristic reader, i just love them yall <3. stu calls billy a good boy and i think he should be rewarded for that, not proofread sorry i am so lazy, technically pre!poly!ghostface but the end is basically the agreement you know?

“You think I’m mad you kissed my girlfriend?” Stu asks, grinning. Billy and you look between each other and then Stu is reaching over and wrapping his hand around Billy’s cock, giving it a tug. “You ate her out, ate my cum, and think I’d be mad about a kiss?” Billy stutters, taken off guard by the feeling of Stu’s hand slowly pumping him and the sight of your hand sneaking in between your legs. “C’mere. Let me show you that I’m not mad.”

Stu leans in, kissing Billy, his hand tightening around his cock. Billy’s head feels like it’s swimming, heavy with lust, and he’s letting Stu take the lead with him, moaning when his tongue slips inside his mouth. You watch the both of them, your boyfriend and his best friend, kiss with increasing fervor, Stu’s hand never stopping. Your own hand had slid back in between your own legs and you sigh at the feeling of your fingers brushing against your sensitive bud.

You had thought about this a lot, Billy joining the two of you. It had been a long-term fantasy, way before you and Stu had gotten together, when you were at home late at night with your hand down your pajama pants. After Stu had asked you out you had thought that was the end of it, a fantasy that would remain just that. That doesn’t mean you ever stopped thinking about it, though. When you were away from Stu for whatever reason you'd find your thoughts drifting to another set of hands, another tongue, but Stu was never far off. 

And now here you were, spread out on the couch, touching yourself as they kissed, face covered in Billy’s cum and Stu’s leaking out of your cunt. You whimper, eyes drifting down to where Stu was jerking Billy off. You had never thought he could be submissive but Billy was letting Stu do whatever he wanted, moaning into the kiss with sounds so pornographic that it rivaled your own.”Fu-uck,” He grunts, hips bucking as Stu’s thumb runs over the leaking head of his cock. He was so hard already and it was almost too much for him. Almost.

“Feels good?” Stu asks, pulling away from Billy’s lips to stare at him, eyes searching his own. Billy nods and Stu grins, eyes flicking over to your frame. “Fuck, look at her, dude,” he grabs Billys chin roughly, turning him to face you, his hand on Billy’s cock speeding up. “She’s loving this. Bet she wants you to cum again. Isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes, fuck, please?” You ask, your own hand speeding up in tangent with Stu’s. This was so fucking hot, seeing Billy all whiney, his breathes quick and pathetic, voice cracking each time he tried to speak. “Billy, please.” Billy’s head falls onto Stu’s shoulder with a whine and you swear he was crying with the way his shoulders were moving. The thought of him crying from pleasure shouldn’t be so fucking good but it was.

Billy cums just a few seconds later with a cry, cum covering Stu’s hand. Stu laughs, staring at you while he drains Billy, a devious smile on his face, the flashing of the TV behind him making him look far more sinister than you thought he ever could. “Good boy, Billy. Right baby? Didn’t he do so good for us?”

You nod, humming out your agreement, head fuzzy from the scene in front of you. “So good,” You get out and Billy’s body twitches at the praise. His head remained in the crook of Stu’s neck and Stu can feel the heat radiating off of him, can feel the embarrassment sweeping over his body and you can too. “We have to do this more.”

“Wha-what?” Billy asks, finally lifting his head to look at you. His forehead was damp with sweat, his cheeks red. “You… you two would want…really?”

“Course man,” Stu says easily, running a hand through Billy’s sweaty hair. You grin at the gentleness of it; you had always known that there was something between those two, a love and respect that went further than just friends. “If you want to, obviously. But I’m pretty sure she,” Stu nods his head in your direction and you grin. “Would love to get fucked by you.”

You can see a flash of… something cross Billy’s face as he looks at you, thinking about sinking his cock inside your cunt while Stu watches and eggs him on. He wonders how tight you are, how you’d feel pulsing and squeezing around him. He wonders how pretty you’d sound begging for him to fill you up instead. 

He nods his head, pushing at Stu’s chest to get the other man to finally stop stroking him. “Alright, alright,” he says with a slight laugh, trying to bury the worry and embarrassment of how quickly Stu had been able to make him cum down. He pulls at his sweatpants, standing and tucking himself away. “We missed the movie.”

You all turn towards the movie and you laugh. “Blame that one, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” You bring your fingers to your mouth and suck on them, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of you and Stu mixed together. For a second, you wonder what the three of you together would taste like, what it would feel like, and you can feel heat rise to your face. “Next time I’m sitting next to Billy.”

“Who said I’d keep my hands to myself?” 

“I think she’s counting on that, Billy.” Stu says, leaning over and placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. You give him a grin, shrugging your shoulders. You were counting on it. “Let’s clean you up, baby.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #poly!ghostface #billy x reader x stu #billy loomis x stu macher #slasher #ghostface #ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #multi may

[demieyesore]

Burnout - Enzo Berkshire

Summary - GN!Reader is stressed and having a panic attack over schoolwork when Enzo finds them and comforts them

Warnings/Mentions - Mention of a teen wolf scene, so potential spoilers for that show (I can’t remember how far in the scene was in the show), Reader has a crush on Enzo which he definitely reciprocates, I’ve never read the fanfic Enzo comes from so idk how in character this is </3 but I imagine him to be sweet but not tooth rotting, he’s still a little bit of a dick because he’s a slytherin, oh and Y/n is used in this fic

A/n - I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITING FOR SO LONG😭😭😭 BUT IM BACK TO START UP AGAIN BUT UNFORTUNATELY THERE ARE NO PROMISES HOW LONG I WILL BE WRITING FOR BECAUSE I TEND TO HYPERFIXATE🧍🏻

Requested - Yes!

POV - 3rd person

Word Count - 712

Y/n had always been a hardworking student, constantly striving for academic excellence. So when they received a study guide for their upcoming test, they immediately locked themselves in their room and spent hours studying.

They poured over their notes, highlighted important information, and even made flashcards to help them remember key concepts. They sacrificed their social life and even skipped meals just to ensure they were fully prepared for the test.

The day of the test arrived and Y/n entered the classroom feeling confident and ready. As they sat down at their desk, they took a deep breath and began to tackle the questions on the exam. They thought they had done well and felt relieved as they handed in their test to the teacher.

A few days later, Y/n received their paper back and to their horror, there was a big red "F" written in bold at the top. They couldn't believe it. After all the time and effort they had put into studying, they had failed the test.

Their heart began to race and their palms grew sweaty as they felt a panic attack coming on. They quickly gathered their things and ran out of the classroom, desperately trying to calm themselves down. But the more they tried to calm down, the worse the panic attack became. Their breathing was becoming more and more rapid as they ran through the halls to find a private area.

Just when they thought they couldn't take it anymore, and just when they found a quiet space. Enzo came running after them. Lorenzo Berkshire was not only their best friend, but also their secret crush. Enzo could see the distress on Y/n’s face and immediately knew something was wrong.

Without hesitation, the slytherin wrapped his arms around Y/n and whispered soothing words in their ear. Things like “Hey, it’s alright.” “I’m here..it’s gonna be okay.” And so on. He made sure to remind them to take deep breaths and that it was just one test, not the end of the world.

Slowly, Y/n’s breathing began to regulate and their heart rate slowed down. They looked up at Enzo with tears in their eyes, grateful for their calming presence. Enzo wiped away their tears and pressed a small kiss to their forehead.

“Feeling better, Love?” Enzo’s eyebrows were knitted together in worry, yet there was still a sweet smile on his face. Y/n nodded before deciding to get it all off their chest.

“I just…” They started, thinking of how exactly to word their sentence. “I spent so long studying. I wasn’t even taking care of myself properly. All just so I would pass the test. But I didn’t. I still failed it and now it just feels like I wasted my time.” Y/n finishes with a huff of air, showing just how frustrated they were.

Enzo nods his head. “Do you often have panic attacks? Over school?” Enzo knew Y/n so well but they had always been slightly closed off about certain things. One of those topics happened to be their mental health. While yes, they would rant to him about things or sometimes make self deprecating jokes. They almost never showed him how bad it would get.

There was only one or two times that Enzo could remember where Y/n got so upset and cried in front of him. The first time he didn’t know what to do, he just stood there shocked. But he did try his best to calm them down.

Y/n thought it over in their head before answering. “Sometimes…it usually happens in my dorm when I’m alone. Sometimes during lunch but I would just go to the bathroom..” Enzo gives them a sympathetic look which soon turned into a small mischievous smile.

“How about…” The brunette began.

“The next time you have a panic attack, we can try out that one scene from the show you like. Teen wolf? Where stiles has a panic attack and Lydia kisses him to stop it.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to kiss me???” Y/n retorted, heat flooding their face.

“I thought that was obvious? Was it not?” Enzo tilted his head as Y/n started laughing.

#slytherin boys #harry potter #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you #comfort #fluff #fanfic