#sunglasses and lipstick stains

[rogue-durin-16]

SUNGLASSES AND LIPSTICK STAINS (part III/III)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: mostly fluff (hurt/comfort)

Tags:

Sunglasses And Lipstick Stains: @shycupcakealissa @dessmxsworld @liberhoe @damon-loves-pie @littleagxs

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mild violence

A/N: long awaited and, after deleting tons of angst, finally here. This is not a chapter, this is a bunch of chaotic scenes under a trench coat pretending to be a chapter. Bear with me and enjoy <3

Part I

Part II

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

An unknown ruckus that did nothing for my throbbing head had woken me up, yet I was not expecting to stumble into whatever was going on at the Henderson's.

Most of the kids ran around attempting to tidy up their sleeping place, although Jonathan was clearly doing the actual job. Mike yelled through the phone, presumably at his mother, periodically being shushed by Hopper, whose back faced the group of middle schoolers and the tired junior ushering them.

That was probably the oddest part of the scene, because Hopper seemed to be confiding information to Y/n from across the kitchen counter —the overwhelming kind, given how she massaged her temples with closed eyelids.

"—And back to the police station." He finished explaining, tapping his palm on the marble surface before turning around. "Good, he's awake. Hopper pushed himself off the kitchen counter and wiggled his car keys at me. "You got five minutes. Grab your things."

"Where are we-" Hopper was out of the house before I could finish the sentence. "what's going on?" I flinched at the loudness of the kids as I made my way to the kitchen.

"I asked him to take you to the hospital." Y/n intervened. She had straightened up as soon as Hopper noticed I was out of bed, and was now handing me a glass of water along with Tylenol. "how's the head?"

I chose to ignore her question and formulated one of my own instead. "What d'you mean 'to the hospital'? You patched me up."

"I did but— bye guys!" She waved at both Byers and the four kids trailing after him. "You need an actual doctor to check it out."

"Y/n, I can't— you don't understand—"

"Chief told me everything." The girl took a step closer and maneuvered my chin ever so carefully to check my broken nose. "Or at least everything I could beat out of him."

I breathed out a surprised chuckle. "You're something else."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She countered with a small tired smile. Now that I had a moment to study her upclose, I wondered if she had slept at all that night. "we gotta go." She whispered.

"You too?"

"It's Monday, Steve." Monday. Jesus, I completely forgot about school. A groan escaped my lungs while the girl jogged to her bedroom. "I'll tell Ms. O'Donnell you're sick!" She shouted while I finally chugged the Tylenol. "C'mon." Y/n was back in a flash. She tossed me my jacket and motioned at the already open front door for me to walk over.

A furrow formed between my brows when, instead of joining me, Y/n rummaged through the cushions. "What are you doing?"

"Jonathan brought... Ah! This." The girl skipped to her home's entrance, bag dangling on her shoulder by a strap, and handed me my sunglasses. "You'll need them."

Sweet. I would have never thought I'd use that word to describe Y/n Henderson, but to be fair, I'd never thought she would look at me so tenderly.

The next thing I knew, I was planting a kiss on her temple, her hand secured in mine. It had come as such a natural occurence that I hadn't given it a second thought.

There was a pink tinge on her cheeks when I pulled away. "What's that for?"

"For taking care of me." It was an excuse. Something about the way she tilted her head to the side told me she knew that.

November 9, 1984

READER'S P. O. V.

"What happened to you, Stevie boy?!"

The obnoxious voice could be easily identified way before he made an appearance. Most people walking from class to class on my locker's corridor did. That's why Tommy Hagan was able to strut freely through the racket of students at Steve's tail, whose head hung low.

"Did you fall face first?" His taunts grew louder the closer they were to my locker. "From king to punching bag!"

"Piss off, Tommy. I'm not in the mood." Now that was barely audible. In fact, I wouldn't have caught it if it wasn't because Steve was walking right by my back when he spoke.

"Aw, he's not in the mood." Hagan mocked him.

During the previous weekdays, I had found myself growing closer to the former King of Hawkins High, now reduced to an exhausted teen walking the halls alone. One would say I even turned somewhat protective of him; that's why I didn't think through my actions until Tommy was on the floor, his palms catching him just in time to avoid a broken nose.

It took Billy and Carol a hot minute to process that I, who now faced them instead of the row of lockers, was the reason why the remaining member of their trifecta had tripped mid sentence.

There was a brief halt in everyone's motions. The shock in the sudden silence among us shifted to anticipation as soon as Tommy himself caught on what had happened, "Did you just fucking trip me?"

"Nope," I popped the 'p', feigned cluelessness dripping from my tongue and making Tommy's blood boil. "I think you just fell face first, Hagan."

It took all my willpower not to flinch when Hagan's freckled face was shoved to mine close enough for our noses to touch.

"The fuck did you just say?"

I barely registered a yelled, warning 'Hey!' from somewhere on my left flank that sounded like Steve.

However, it was —to my surprise— Billy Hargrove's hand the one immediately enclosed around Tommy's bicep, yanking him back with an iron grip.

"She's not worth it." There was a tinge of fear in his uncanny irises, flooded with both hatred and frustration when he gave me an up-and-down that felt closer to a spit. "C'mon."

It took them making a left at the end of the hall for me to release the strained breath I didn't know I was holding.

My irises locked with Steve's warm ones as soon as I turned my head to the left. The boy stood at a safe distance, balancing his weight from one leg to another with hesitance.

He opened his mouth, yet words either got caught up in his throat or dissolved into nothingness. His eyes darted behind him for a second, and soon returned back to me with intent.

I watched the boy's moves with a frown as he spun and slowly took the few steps separating him from the bathroom.

One last tentative glance from the door was all I needed to follow his lead, mindful of the eyes around us that luckily had already returned to their respective business.

"Harrington?" My pitch was careful, since I was unsure of whether or not we were all by ourselves.

"Here." Was the only response I obtained —it reverberated from afar in the seemingly empty bathroom.

My boots clicked on the tiles as I dove further into the fluorescent lit room. I clutched my books against my chest in anticipation when I caught a glimpse of Steve's figure in the sinks's mirrors at the very far end of the restroom.

My steps stopped right at the corner and knocked on the last stall's poorly hinged door before resting my shoulder against it.

"Hey." He whispered, hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned back on the wall in front of me.

"Hey." I echoed with a tight-lipped smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just—" His visage was quickly casted down to avoid eye contact, making his hair bob as he looked for the right words. "Thanks. Don't do that again though, 'cause if you think Tommy won't hit a girl—"

"I'm very aware of what was about to happen." I cut him off, re-accommodating my books to rest on my hip so I could gesture at the bathroom's entrance with my thumb. "It'd trip Hagan anyday."

"Why?"

"He's an asshole."

"And I'm not?"

"You want me to trip you too?"

There was a moment of silence in which a spark of mischief crossed Steve's eyes. It was swiftly followed by a snort he could barely hold back.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," his fingers carded the few rogue strands falling on his eyes, an amused smile lingering on his gaze. "I just thought of the corniest pick-up line."

"Oh God."

"Now I really need to say it."

"No, you don't."

"If you were to trip me, I could say I..." Steve intently wiggled his brows at me. "fell for you."

I stared blankly at him for an instant, trying not to laugh and accidentally spur him on. "That's just tragic." I feigned a disappointed sigh. "Just when I thought I liked you."

Silence. Ominous silence that carried the blood to my cheeks when I realized what I had just said.

It's okay, I told myself after briefly meeting Steve's mildly widened eyes, it doesn't have to mean I like like him.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"This is..." The senior pushed himself off the tiled wall, one of his hands finding comfort in his hair once again. I would have never pinned Steve Harrington as a fidgety guy, but he was full of surprises. "Do you wanna come over after school?"

"...What?"

"We could watch a movie." He explained further, blatantly ignoring the shock tensing every muscle of my body.

"I... like- like a uhh" I shifted on the spot, tightening the grip on my books in a vain attempt to ground myself when Steve walked closer. "like a hangout? or like-?"

"I'm asking you out, Y/n." Steve seemed to ponder his thoughts for a second before plainly saying, "I like you."

My whole body refused to respond, and I was frozen in place, left to see Steve's confidence slowly crumble.

"Am I— did I read this wrong?"

The bell ringing was a life saver. I for one did not hesitate to jolt straight to the door with an apologetic smile that was closer to a grimace.

I couldn't get far before five slender digits were gently wrapped around my wrist. "If I did, can we ignore that last thing I said? Honestly, I could use a friend right now and you're—"

"You didn't... read it wrong." My quiet words, strained with pride, eased the situation instantly. "At your place at 7?"

"Yeah, that's good." He exhaled, thumb rubbing a couple of reassuring circles on the back of my hand before dropping to his side. "I'll see you later then?"

"M-hm." I gave him a quick nod and, after debating on whether or not I should do something stupid, I leaped forward and planted a kiss on his cheekbone.

I had no way of knowing he would trap my lips with his the moment they lifted from his skin. I didn't oppose either.

For the next weeks, that was it for us. We unraveled ourselves in lazy make out sessions, secret bathroom talks, and indoors dates.

It was easier like that, when it was just us who knew —even if it meant sneaking kisses when he dropped Dustin home and pretending not to know to each other while we were in class.

Yeah, it was easier to pretend to be a couple when no one else had to know about it, but December came and we weren't pretending anymore.

December 15, 1984

STEVE'S P. O. V.

"Now you're gonna go in there,"

"Yeah,"

"Look like a million bucks!"

"Yeah!"

"And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead."

"Like a lion." I had to fight the urge to cringe at Dustin's purr.

"Don't do that, okay?" I begged instead, earning a tiny, chastised 'okay' from the kid.

An encouraging nod and a handclasp later, the boy was climbing out of the car with his chest puffed and his chin high.

Turns out middle schoolers weren't the headache Nancy made it out to be. It was actually quite a refreshing change to have them around. Throughout both November and December, I had grown to know how nice it would have been to have a younger sibling around.

Maybe I would have felt less alone all the time.

The amused smile that had twisted up the corner of my lips at the sight of Dustin proudly adjusted his blazer whilst talking to a teacher gradually faded away at the depressing thoughts which began to cloud my mind.

My shoulders slumped slightly at that dark feeling that had been looming over me more often than not during the year; that terrifying loneliness I rarely seemed to get rid of.

The school's ajar door being pushed open not only pulled me out of my own head, but also slowly returned the grin to my face.

It was Y/n the one exiting the building. Her joyful laugh echoed in the nearly empty parking lot, just temporarily filled by passing cars dropping the kids off at the Snow Ball.

Her confident stroll slowed down at the sight of my car, but her face's brightness didn't falter.

"Harrington."

Her tone was of surprise as she resumed her walk, even though I was positive Dustin had mentioned I would be driving him to the ball.

"Henderson." I reciprocated the greeting, trying not to seem too eager to be near her when I ripped more than unplucked the key from the ignition and stepped out of the vehicle.

It had become exponentially more complicated— to be distant, to try and make it look like we were mere acquaintances. In all honesty, I didn't even know why we kept the lie up anymore.

"I see my brother took your awful hair advice." She teased with a coy grin, her forearms resting atop the roof of my car. She searched and found a faux vexed reaction from me.

"Uhm, excuse me." I huffed, circling the obstacle between us at a watchful slow pace. "'Awful hair advice'? I think you mean awesome." My heart skipped a beat when the girl gnawed her lower lip to bite back a laugh —a mindless habit of hers that never failed to suck the air out of my lungs. "Have you seen this?" I questioned, motioning at my hair.

"Yeah I've seen the bird nest." She taunted me, turning to face me when I reached her side.

"You're really fucking mean."

"Hmm... I thought I was the sweetest person you'd met?" She jokingly inquired, rocking forward on her tippy toes. "Your words, not mine."

A single breathy laugh left my lungs, chin falling so I could stare at my shoes, which had turned to be an engrossing sight every time Y/n did that.

"I didn't know you were chaperoning." I chose to comment once I had collected myself enough to meet her gaze.

"I'm not." She corrected, bracing herself when a particularly cold beat of wind hit us. "The teachers needed a hand with the decorations. You think I'd come to a Ball dressed like this?"

"I think you could wear Mrs. Click's clothes and still knock the air out of any guy's lungs."

Whatever Y/n was going to respond died in the back of her throat. I was about to audibly take pride on leaving her speechless when her fist playfully knocked my arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Stop teaching my brother dumb pick-up lines!" Her index finger pointed accusative at my form.

"He uses them?"

"UHHH YEAH." Y/n giggled to herself, spinning to rest her back against my BMW's side. "He sounds so fucking ridiculous, practicing them in the mirror and shit."

"Hey, don't laugh at him!" I barely had enough restraint to not snicker at the anecdote while I moved to stand in front of the girl. "You're such a bad sister."

"And you're such a bad influence!" She countered, letting her melodic laugh gradually die down, leaving no trace but a beautiful beam gracing her gaze, slightly pinked by December's low temperatures. "What are you doing to my brother, Harrington?"

"I'm just helping him be cool, y'know?" I shrugged, trying to seem as suave as I could about being inches away from Y/n's body. "Giving him a pinch of King Steve's advice."

"I'll shove King Steve's advice up your ass."

"You're just jealous."

"Maybe I am a little jealous." She gave me a nonchalant shrug.

"Wait, really?"

"You can't blame me." Her digits tugged on her sleeves, probably to preserve the little warmth left in her palms. "It's always 'Steve this', 'Steve that'..." She swinged her head from one side to another, empathizing her words and simultaneously making it all more hilarious. "One day you're a jerk and the next you're this awesome dude he adores."

"Some things run in the family, don't they?" I teased, taking her cold hands in mine to bring them up and blow hot air in them.

"I never said you were awesome." Her voice turned into a whisper, y/e/c eyes searching for my thoughts in mines.

"I know you think I'm awesome." Y/n scoffed at my cocky quip. "And I know you secretly adore me."

"Ha."

"Ha." I mocked her, bringing her palms to rest on my chest so I could slide mines down to her waist. "You're not denying it."

"You're annoying." It was more an exhale than a sentence. "So annoying. You have no idea."

"Then you adore annoying."

I felt a chill running down my spine when her icy fingertips creeped all the way up to my nape hair to toy with it.

"I think I'm gonna kiss you." I muttered, bumping my nose with hers.

Y/n pulled away ever so slightly, yet enough to make me chase her frame, even with her hands still around me. "Here?"

"Yeah." I tried to act nonchalant for both of our sakes. It would have never occurred to me that I would be anxious about getting caught kissing a girl. "That okay?"

After a second of hesitation and a short lived nod, a beam lit up Y/n's gaze as she brought me into an innocent kiss that soon deepened.

There was something intoxicating about her, something that stuck with me back in October at Tina's Party and had yet to let me go.

Maybe it wasn't something about her, maybe it was her —the way she carried herself, the cleverness in her words and how her hands held me. It was definitely her, and I couldn't get enough.

That's why when Y/n, whose senses were sharper, abruptly pulled away with a gasp, my immediate reaction was to whine.

And then I heard that little shit's voice.

"Y/n?" The wide-eyed girl pushed me aside to make direct eye contact with Mike. "Oh my God."

"Mike." one of my hands remained on Y/n's waist while she raised her menacing index finger at the younger Wheeler. "Don't you dare."

The kid stared at Y/n, then stared at me, and then ran back inside. A faint 'Dustin' made it out of the building before the door got shut.

Soon enough, Y/n was attempting to chase Mike, although I was quick enough to bring her back to our previous spot before she could cross the entrance.

"That little bitch is gonna tell everyone!" She complained, trying and failing to walk past me.

"Then let him, who cares?"

"Uhhh you?"

"Says who?"

Her mind seemed to malfunction for a second, not quite processing my words. "What do you mean?"

"why would I mind people knowing we're dating?"

"THERE'S A MILLION REASONS!"

"Name three." I requested, raising three fingers between us.

"Okay— Nancy."

"I have my life and she has hers." I countered. "Plus, I didn't see her holding back with Jonathan right after we broke up."

"Status."

"Dustin said I gotta grow out of that bullshit and he's right."

"I—" a judging frown twisted her expression. "are you taking advice from a middle schooler?"

"he's pretty smart." I defended myself, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Third?"

"I don't know."

"You said there was a million reasons."

"Shut up." She leaned back against the car with a scowl substituting what had been a joyful smile just a couple of minutes ago.

"Are you embarrassed?" I questioned, tugging on the hem of her jumper.

"Steve, we went through this a million times." She sighed, catching my fingers with hers. "I'm not, I just don't wanna—"

"Undermine my reputation blah blah blah. Fuck that." I pecked the tip of her nose, unleashing a new wave of amusement trying to fight its way through the stress. "Let's go out."

"We go out every Friday."

"No, like, out out? To the movies or something." I couldn't tell if the pink on her cheeks was due to the biting cold or my proposal. "That dipshit's gonna spread the word like wildfire anyway."

She considered for an instant, but we both knew which answer she wanted to give me.

"You sure?" She said instead, making me push out a lighthearted scoff.

"Do I look unsure to you?" Before she could speak, I stole a quick, tender kiss from her. "Next Friday. I'll pick you up at 7."

"Jeez I didn't even say yes."

"Oh were you gonna reject me?" I teased with raised brows.

"Fuck you, Harrington." She spat without an ounce of malice in her tone, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. God, I was a goner.

"I'll hold you to that." She huffed at my wink and my smug smile, and I knew she was as much of a goner as myself. "C'mon," I stepped aside to open the passenger door. "Let's get you home before any of those little shits decide to believe Wheeler." Just when I thought Y/n would, for the first time, not complain about me driving her anywhere, she stopped between me and the now accessible passenger's seat. "Jesus, don't start—"

"Did you have dinner yet?"

Well, that was not what I was expecting. "...No?"

"Wanna go to that new diner downtown?" Blink. Another blink. Was she asking me out? "It's on me."

"I... Okay. Yeah! Yeah, cool."

"Cool." She echoed, the corner of her lips twitching up with amusement. "C'mon then."

"Shit, yeah." I left her side to circle the BMW and, when I climbed in, I found her already belted and ready.

"It's a date, by the way." She clarified, tugging on the sleeves of her jacket once more.

"Yeah I got that, dumbass." I whispered back whilst starting the car.

I didn't even attempt to hold the genuine grin that only she seemed to be able to pull out of me these days when her fingers found my free hand to tangle with my own.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x plus sized reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x reader #st steve #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve x oc #steve x henderson!reader #stranger things fandom #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 2 #sunglasses and lipstick stains

[lanaswansblog]

#lana del rey #farmers daughter #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lipstick stains #coquette #dollette #60s #small town girl #hopeless romantic girly #heart shaped sunglasses #girly blog #just girly posts #coquette girl #light femme #picnic #manic pixie nightmare

[cl6teen]

affection, ln4 ❀ chapter ii. the need to know

masterlist || chapter i || chapter iii

summary: [4.5k words] drunken nights spent in lando’s townhouse are an ode to your friendship, and maybe just a little bit more.

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

contains: lando and reader are in denial, self friendzoning, lots of reminiscing and fluff, lando taking care of reader, very lazy smut, one night stands, oblivious flirting, talks of sex, intoxication, unprotected sex, pull and pray.

note: not proofread, this can be read as a stand-alone or as part of my affection series, however this is not a required read for said series. (sorry for such a long wait! exams were rough and this was difficult to write for some reason)

❀ silverstone ❀

The overarching sounds of EDM and conversation ring through Lando’s ears in a destructive harmony that’s sure to hit him tomorrow morning in the form of a stupid migraine. Still, he pushes through the sea of bodies crowding around, trying to huddle in close enough to him to hopefully snag a photo of ‘Silverstone’s P2 driver’. It has a nice ring to it, since you said that with Max in this competition, P2 is the new P1, so he should be nothing more proud of his performance. 

Prideful he was, enough to confidently down shots with today’s true winner, forgetting how the Dutchman always lets as loose as he can during these after parties. And while they didn’t seem to hit whilst manning the dj turn-tables for the last hour or so, the newfound alcohol in his system was certainly making itself known now.  

His hands run through brown tufts of hair as he scans the club entrance for you, “Y/n?”

“Over here.”

You’ve sat yourself in an armchair close to the women’s washroom, where you nurse a half-full lukewarm bottle of water in your hands before taking yet another prolonged sip. 

“You look like shit.” He chuckles, leaning down to fix the strands of your hair that stray from the rest. 

“Tell me about it,” you roll your eyes playfully, a laugh escapes you both, “you’re not one to talk, either.”

Fair point, he shrugs. With tousled hair that manages to go in every direction except for what it was originally in, sunglasses threatening to fall off the bridge of his nose, and the faint red lipstick marks stained on his unbuttoned white collar, Lando looks far from put together. He’s impossible, how can he have the nerve to talk to how you look on a night out while he was so quick to leave you with Oscar (who you had no problems being with—he just didn’t seem to be the party type) after receiving a shameless once over from a leggy blonde passing your group by upon arrival.

“So, where’s tonight’s girl?” He stares when you passively fold your arms into each other and question, completely unaware of how the movement pushes your chest together. He clicks his tongue, stop looking, Lando. 

“Hell if I know.” He sighs in fake disappointment, in hopes of cutting that conversation off as quickly as it was introduced, “you’re staying at mine tonight.”

Okay, you nod. You don’t question it—you never do. Instead you sit quietly and watch him swipe around on his phone, no doubt shooting Max (Fewtrell) a quick text to let him know you were both leaving before calling up an Uber Black. Was this normal? To go home with Lando after a long night out? To you, the answer was always yes—hell, if you need him, say the word and he’s on the way, isn’t that what friends were for?

But other people can’t fathom the idea, they look at the two of you with doubtful eyes after explaining that although you can’t seem to go anywhere without one another, Lando’s just a friend. You sigh in exasperation at the thought, Lando Norris isn’t dateable; at least, not to you. He texts you about the girls he’s on dates with and nitpicks about how their breath smells, or how they had food in their teeth, or the potent perfume they drench themselves in to the point of inducing headaches in people they pass by. He’s whiney, and picky, and—

Lando’s fingers snap in your face and bring you out of your stupor, “What’s got you thinking so hard?” 

“Nothing.” Your little jump earns you a perplexed look from Lando, who can only stare you down, “nothing, just want to get some rest.”

“The car is here, but it’s a little walk across the street.” He notices the heels toppled over each other next to the chair—you truly are a mess. “Do you have your purse?” You nod, flimsily holding the bag up for him to see.

Lando is no Superman, he knows that well after an ambitious jump off a bunk bed and straight into an ER visit and a three month cast at the age of ten; but now he feels like he’s got the power to do it all, looping the straps of your heels on a finger and hoisting you into his arms bridal style. It’s far from a pretty sight, but it still manages to grab the attention of partygoers nearby, who point and whisper and gush at the scene in front of them. “People will see, Lando.” You look up at him through dark lashes in an unfamiliar way that gets his gears turning—more than anything, he just wants to get you to this car. 

“Yeah, but that’s okay.” He smiles nervously, letting you burrow your head into the crook of his neck to hide from the nipping British breezes outside. It's probably anything but okay; pictures might make their way around, and make both his life and your own a pain in the ass, but he can’t rain it on you like that. 

The subtle aroma of your perfume invades his senses, and all of a sudden he’s become so hyper aware of his touch on your skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—he shakes his head.

In Lando’s mind, you’re but one thing to him; a friend—one he intends to keep like that.

—

Silent car rides in the backseat have never been Lando’s thing, not when he’s drunk, not when he can’t use his phone because he has to watch you. He’s not complaining, really—but there’s a fleeting moment of relief when forty minutes later, the two of you find way to the steps of his townhome, and he's fumbling around in his pockets for the keys while you stay huddled close to him to keep warm despite already sporting his jacket. 

He’s profane as he fiddles with the door handle. You’re lucky he’s sweet enough to give you his clothing, because even though he practically threw it at you after listening to your nonstop whines about the cold, and how he ‘wasn’t even fazed by it’, he is actually freezing now.  

“Tonight was…”

Rough, Fun, you both say in tandem; Lando’s enthusiasm is unsurprising, he finds himself at home in these situations. Work hard, play harder, he would say—it makes sense, his job is high stakes, stressful, the media is a pain in the ass; you would look forward to the fun bit too.

However, you’re not Lando, you don’t vacation in Ibiza or party with Max Verstappen on weekends—you travel to Thailand and read on rafts, but your best friend making podium during a home race is more than enough reason to show face for the night, so you make your peace with it and thank whoever that you’re home now.  

“I need to change out of this,” you refer to the dress you’ve spent the entire after party readjusting and pulling down only to tug back up. “Lend me a shirt?”

“Did you really need to ask?” He speaks from a hunched over position while clumsily taking off his shoes. “You know where my room is.”

It’s a painfully familiar place; Lando’s never around enough to change it up anyway. When was the last time you were here? Maybe two years ago, during summer break, your memory is too foggy, but not to the point where you can forget your first time visiting. You and Lando were nineteen and twenty, and he wanted to use his well earned ‘Y/n’s daddy’ funded bonus on something practical. A house was not what you had in mind, but twenty five year old Carlos had a bottle of wine and a pipe dream of a three person housewarming party (one your father wasn’t too stoked to hear about, no doubt). It ended just as expected, wine drunk and full on that no bake cookie dough, albeit against the wishes of the drivers’ nutritionists, and you somehow bundled up in Lando’s brand new King bed while the other two found their comforts in plastic wrapped couches tucked away in the living room. 

The only thing different in Lando’s bedroom are the bedsheets (thankfully), and frames full of podiums that showcase just how far he's come. 

The smile you fight while reminiscing falters when you reach to tug at your zipper and fail. For what you spent on it, the list of inconveniences following your dress just seems to grow.

“Lan!” An exasperated huff escapes you, “could you come in for a moment?”

“My zipper, it’s stuck and I can't get it.” You want to cringe at your words, it’s a cliche—one of the many the universe seems to put you two in. Turning away from him, you move your hair out the way to expose your back, “do you mind?”

His fingers feel warm on your back, it’s a foreign feeling that creeps over the expanse of your nerves and has your breath hitched uncomfortably in the back of your throat. Something is just…different—maybe the alcohol, but you’ve been drunk around Lando one too many times and never has it ended like this, with his fingers nervously fiddling with the metal zipper, tugging at your dress material while gently trying to yank it down. 

“Lando, that hurts.” you breathe for the first time in what feels like ages. 

He kisses his teeth in frustration, placing a firm hand on your waist to keep you from squirming around, “You need to stay still.” The thickness of his accent becomes more apparent with each word. 

You feel so weak, letting just a simple touch bully you into submission, silently you nod. The zipper's journey down is agonizing and slow, for both of you; at this moment, Lando wants nothing more than to leave the room, yet his feet seem glued to the ground he stands on. It’s dimly lit, but you can still feel eyes burning holes into your bare skin, up from the nape of your neck and down to the top of your hips that the lace material underneath clings to. 

He watches the thin straps of your dress struggle to stay atop your shoulders and fall down your arms, further exposing the skin of your back—he sees a tattoo, one that he convinced you to get in Vegas last year, it looks good, better than he thought it would. 

“—did you hear me? Are you done?”

He should leave.

“Yeah, yup. I just got it down,” and as quick as he came, it feels like Lando’s miles away, “I’m gonna go now, just…grab whatever shirt you would like.”

–

“Hey.” You say quietly, padding your way to the kitchen island.

Okay. Things seem a lot more normal between you two. Maybe all that was needed to fix whatever tension between you both was a fresh change of clothes and some bright lighting.

“You hungry?” He prompts, leaning against quartz counters with the world famous boyish smile signature to Lando himself. “I can make us a little snack before bed, just to lighten the hangover you’ll probably get tomorrow.”

You hum sweetly, the time reads 1:53 am—it’s earlier than you thought, time always blurs together when you’re drunk. “Could you get me a glass of water please?” 

“Here you are, missy.”

You scrunch your nose up at his tone, “any name but that.” He laughs obnoxiously, proud of how he manages to get under your skin in a way only he can.

The sizzling sounds of grilled cheese on the pan accompanied by the dull hum of a faulty ceiling light are the only ones in the kitchen (you’re constantly telling him to get it fixed, but Lando never seems to follow up on your suggestions, opting for the answer of ‘I don’t even live here like that anymore’). Sipping from your glass, the lipstick stain on his collar catches your eye again—you’re curious, why didn’t he just go home with her?

“So what happened with the girl?”

“What?” He turns to look at you, brows furrowed into a knot. It’s not until you make a little gesture to the base of your neck that he looks down at his own to see what you mean. “Oh, her, what was her name again…Abby, Aria—no, Amy. She was too…onto me, only talked about racing and the other drivers. Don’t get me wrong I like, love, racing, but I want to have a natural conversation.” he searches for the right comparison, “like how you and me flow.”

You and me. 

Empathetic, you sigh into your hands, Lando is simple, adjacently, he likes things that are simple; routine and normal, like you two. “Lando, if you keep comparing girls to me you’re going to chase them away.” You think his attitude will be his undoing, but he says if it hasn’t happened now there’s no chance of it happening ever. “Even worse, they’ll think I'm your girlfriend.”

He shrugs calmly, so normal about the entire idea, “Max says they already think that.”

“Yeah well,” you huff out in mild annoyance, stuttering over your words at the thought of Lando discussing your relationship status with someone. “Max doesn’t know everything.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t date you in a million years,” mouthing off, he turns to look at you with a sour face, “too snobby.”

“You talk like you’re not daddy’s money too.” The reaction of your middle finger poking out is almost reflexive. “You’re not my type anyway.”

“That’s a lie. You thought I was cute when I first met you.” It is a lie, a painfully bad one at that—Lando has always been a cutie; though, his constant need to annoy you in some way seemed to drown that aspect of himself out. 

“And then your personality came to light.”

The witted banter between you always comes  naturally—he would poke and prod at your last fiber of patience with him until you finally find yourself giving your attention to his words and firing something back that would be surefire dig deep had it not been aimed at somebody like Lando. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t think I’m hot.” Sniggering, he shoots you a teasing wink, “don’t worry, I think you’re hot too.”

“I know that, everyone thinks I’m hot.”

He scoffs to himself, he says you’re a narcissist, you say it’s not narcissistic if it’s true. 

The spurt of banter is short lived, and soon enough you’re back to hearing the hum of the kitchen lights. It’s peaceful enough, better than the crescendo of club music from an hour ago.

But you’re inebriated—and needing to talk to keep yourself from falling asleep while waiting on Lando, you start, “Have you ever thought about it?”

“About what?”

“You and me,” you repeat his words from earlier, but they’re not laced with the cool and calm confidence Lando had—instead, they’re shaky. You’re unsure if you want to know the answer to your own question. 

“Like…dating?” The pitch of his accent goes higher in confusion.

“Uhm, not dating per say…” you down your saliva to slow yourself before continuing, with the liquid courage flowing through your veins, the mental filter that once barricaded stupid nonsense from revealing itself is nowhere to be seen; which sucks because you could really use it right now.

“Do you mean hooking up?” Lando takes the meek stare you give as a yes, and your sudden shyness has him wanting to press you for more, “Have you?”

Have you thought about it? Screwing Lando Norris? Embarrassingly so, you’ve always wanted to sleep with an F1 driver (to know what makes these girls so insane for them, that’s what you tell yourself), but you prefer to keep those fantasies in your head, locked away in an untouchable space where nobody can reach. Still, it would be a lie to say it hadn’t crossed your mind—even if you harbor no romantic feelings towards him, people don’t usually mind sleeping with someone they find physically attractive. 

“And what if I have?” You probe, arms folding into each other as you watch Lando watch you out of the corner of his eyes. 

You’ll put him into a lot of trouble soon enough, and he dreads the day you do. “You’re funny.”

“So it never crossed your mind?”

Of course it has, look at you—unbelievably pretty even while piss-drunk and dressed in an old wrinkled t-shirt riding up your thighs. Though, he would never tell you that to your face; it would do him more worse than good. Lando might not love you in that sense, but he is a single man with an appreciative eye; he thinks many of the other drivers on the grid can attest to the fact that you’re stunning, some even going as far as using him as a means of snagging your number. He does you the favor of turning them down in your stead, though, because you would never get with any of them—he’s sure of it.

At least, that’s what he hopes. 

“Every guy has thought about hooking up with his best female friend, at least once.” He shrugs, not seeming to care about the way your mouth hangs open at his nonchalant vulgarity. Lando doesn’t actually know if it’s the truth, but he sure as hell feels that way about you, wrong or not. You don’t notice, but he’s already turned the stove burner off before facing you with a jerkish smirk, “what, did you want to try tonight?” 

“Jesus, goodnight.” You shove at his left shoulder and try to make a b-line back to his bedroom, only to be held back by Lando's outstretched arm that wraps itself around your shoulder. 

“Okay, okay,” he’s quick to plead, and he’s equally as quick to overlook the plans of goosebumps that settle across your body at his touch. “What I said was a dick move, I admit it.” Through a fanned breath, he heaves out, “but seriously, hm? What’s got you thinking about all that?”

What has got you thinking about all of this? The shots of Patron making its home in the pits of your stomach mixed with rumors that never seem to die down, maybe. There should be a warning sign, Patron & gossip: can lead to shamelessly flirting and innocently talking about topics like hookups and sex—with Lando Norris no less. 

And Lando…

He’s better than this, he knows he’s better than this, letting your suggestions lurch him into a debauched daydream of the two of you coming to a head in the bedroom of his home, skin hot from fleeting touches instead of warm alcohol, hands grabbing underneath the shirt hung over your body and finally being able to do what no other man could—

“It’s not going to happen.” 

—do for you.

You bring him out of his thoughts when you quickly dismiss the entire idea (disappointingly so), “I brought it up because I’m…bored, and drunk.” the tone of your voice goes high enough to pan your mumbled words out as a question, even you sound unconvinced of yourself. 

Lando recognizes your doubts just as you do. “You suuuure about that?” He says in a way that has you giggling schoolgirlishly into his arms and makes this a little more not-so-awkward. “You know you don’t need to lie to me.” 

While there's probably some truth to his reassuring words, he’s being bad, he wants this—maybe even more than you do, you can tell. It makes you a bit more still, knowing that he’s also, to some extent, got a hard on for you in a one-off sense. Meanwhile, Lando’s mind is going a mile a minute (it’s characteristic of someone who actually goes a mile a minute for a living), carefully observing your expressions to see what it is you’re thinking—to some degree he is a gentleman, if you say the words, he’ll forget anything was ever mentioned.

But boy does he want it.

Glassy eyes seem to pierce yours for what seems like an eternity, “Lando…” You hope your voice is calmer than how you feel, but it’s not promising; the world around you feels standstill—like you can’t even breathe for air. 

“Don’t say my name like that.” He mumbles, eyes softening at how your body relaxes into his own. The two of you dance around the point of no return, still, magnetically you gravitate towards it. You want to embrace it tonight, and worry about the mess brewing tomorrow.

“Fucking hell.” He curses in the endearing way only a Brit can, arm circling the small of your back and lips ghosting against your own, “it’s just a one time thing.” 

“Just this once…”

Just this once is what you tell yourselves when his lips catch your own, tongue languidly breaching your mouth whilst pulling you closer into him as you fall into his touch and wrap your arms around his neck. It’s just this once that he’ll push away plates and keys to pick you up and sit you on the kitchen counters for you to entangle your fingers within his curls, moaning for more as he kisses his way around your neck.

It’s just this once you’ll sleep with him.

—

Lando, like with everything else, is a massive tease. You should complain, but the feeling of warm hands hiking up your t-shirt short circuits your nerves and limits whatever capability you have to bite back, so you take it all; the ghostly touches, trailing kisses along your jaw, and hands wandering from the crux of your neck down to your entrance.

It aches so unfamiliarly, cotton panties are tugged haphazardly to the side and your pussy is wet and overstimulated. 

Yes, that’s the word you’ve been looking for. It’s all so overstimulating, the fading pulsations of your last orgasm brought on from having two thick fingers scissoring out of you, the puffiness of your nipples still sensitive from Lando’s ongoing oral fixation, and the feeling of his dick messily slotting itself between folds and up against your clit, it’s all just so much. 

“Lando…” You whine, “c’mon.”

He mocks you with a haughty smile, repeating his name shamelessly in a pitch much higher than your own. There’s little to be embarrassed about, yet you feel so exposed, in both a literal and figurative sense. He’s drawn two orgasms out of you with such ease, like your body is as simple to navigate as a track, all without even fucking you properly. Somewhere deep down you’re grateful he’s so observant; it’s a wildly different experience than what you’re used to in every way possible.

“Did you want me to do something? You need to use your words.” He feigns ignorance, like he doesn’t feel the clinging drag of your naked hips against his crotch. Right now, there is nothing nice about Lando—he’s brought you to the edge and left you to plead for him to dig his hands into the meat of your thighs and finally fuck you as promised. 

And with eyes barred shut, you do ask for it, muttering a quaint just put it in with a hushed whimper that shoots straight through him, fueling some kind of excessive desire to give it to you straight. 

“Lan!” Your instincts to twitch take hold of you when you feel the tip inch into you, stretching you out more than anything else. 

“Relax.” He soothes not only you, lazily thumbing your clit to distract your body from the unnerving stretch of him bottoming out, but also himself; there’s a prayer he’s mumbling at the back of his mind, asking for strength to keep him from succumbing to the biting grip your walls welcome him with, he could cum on entry alone. “That feel good?”

It feels great, but you can’t find the words to talk, so you opt for the drawn out whine that amplifies to a full moan when he finds his rhythm. You guess Lando fucks like he races, wild but calculated, hard and fast. His thrusts push you up closer to the headboard, and you think you see stars with each one. Lando’s dilated eyes are focused on the way your boobs move in tandem with his hips, which roll into your own unforgivingly. 

If this is what he gets when he does well, he needs to get those wins and that championship, as soon as possible. 

“Just like that, Lan.” You exhale out, fingers darting to grapple at his wild brown tufts, “I want more of you. Need it.”

To hear you say you need him, it makes him somewhat insane. His body is eager to close in on your own, lips ghosting over your jaw and inching closer to your ear as a hand gently finds its way to your neck.

“You feel so perfect.” He’s so breathless, practically whining into your ears about just how good you feel, It doesn’t reach you, you’re too focused on feeling every inch of dick buried into you. It feels like he’s mushing up your insides, hitting spongy walls that desperately cling to him. Every thrust is harder than his last, and the way the trimmed hair resting above his base brushes against your clit provides all the extra stimulation that has your head lazily rolling to the side.

You’re not sure when you cum, but you do. It’s wet and his name is hot on your tongue, as if you’re cheering him on to fuck you through your orgasm, and who is he to deny you? Lando’s undoubtedly happy to see the pleasure he’s giving you, his eyes blowing wide at the feeling of his lower abdomen growing soaked by your arousal. 

“Look at you,” he marvels, prideful and horny, “ever done that before?”

You haven’t—it freaks you out, yet despite all of your hurried apologies and groans of embarrassment, Lando finds himself dipping his head into the crux of your neck to suppress a groan. You’re so pretty it hurts him, his hips bore deeper into yours, hoping to get closer than humanly possible. 

When he kisses you, your legs slither around his waist as if to cage him. You’ll be the death of him—the two of you are playing a dangerous game, and you both know it. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” he smiles against your lips, and your body melts like putty, malleable enough for him to pry your legs from its digging into his back and push them closer towards you by your thighs. 

His pace noticeably falters when you flutter around him. You’re muttering something about coming inside, pleading for it—but he pays you no mind; you’re intoxicated by the feeling of dopamine, and as much as he would love it, the feeling of stuffing you full, he’s a smarter man than that.

He cums with a guttural fuck, barely managing to rip himself away from your clutches and spill himself onto your stomach—and you just watch, doe eyed and jolted by the warm feeling on your skin. You both pant heavily against one another, until all you can hear is the noise of the London night leaking in from an ajar window.

“Hey.” He lazes out, rubbing circles on your thigh.

“Hi.”

“This can’t—” happen again, get out to anyone—there’s so much he could say, but you would rather not hear it. Not tonight.

“Yeah.”

❀❀

tags: @babyvinnie @leclercdream @im-an-overthinker@ririyulife @1655clean @sukisheadlights @harrysdimple05 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday

(if bolded i couldn’t tag you i’m so sorry!)

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #f1 x female reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x you

[mariespen]

Apology ༊*·˚

Protective!Rafe x Fem!Reader ༊*· Summary: “Don’t need people seein’ what’s mine, a’ight?” Warnings: mild sexual implications

based on this request!

︵‿︵‿༊*·˚୧‿︵‿︵

You tapped around Tannyhill in your perfect little pink heels, trying to fix your hair before your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, decided that it was too far past the time to leave. He had offered to take you shopping today as a half apology for being home at 2am last night on ‘private business.’ You’re sure that you would get the other half of the apology tonight.

“Princess..” Rafe called, warning you of his incoming annoyance.

Admittedly, you were pushing it by delaying the trip by about 2 hours in the first place. You quickly put on a thin layer of tinted lipstick and covered it with a thicker layer of gloss. Looking in the mirror and making sure your hair was even across your shoulders, you finally gave in and decided to make your way downstairs.

Rafe made you feel like you were meeting him for prom whenever you walked down the arching staircase. He looked at you with his eyes wide, a proud smile on his face.

“Gorgeous as always.” He said with a smile, spinning you around and grinning when you giggled at the small gesture.

You planted a soft kiss to his neck, pulling back and realizing that you had left a mark from your glossy lips. Your eyes widened while you tried to stifle any laughter that could slip.

“Hm?” Rafe asked, looking down at you with a love-coated look of confusion.

“Sorry, Rafe..” You moved your hand to start to wipe the faint and glossy red lip stain from his neck.

Your actions clicked in his head and he grinned down at you, pulling your hand away and shrugging casually.

“S’okay.” He said, proudly wearing your lips on his neck and brushing hair from your face before walking away to grab his keys, leaving you with blush erupting across your cheeks.

The small, pink purse that held your most important shopping necessities (lip gloss, mascara, and your pink digital camera) was strung up on his shoulder. Rafe gestured for you to walk out of the door next to him, waiting patiently as you smiled and bit your lip.

“What’s all that for?” He asked with a cocky smile, watching your ass sway with you as you walked out of the door.

“Nothin’..” You said with a giggle, holding his hand as the two of you walked to the car. 

Taking you shopping at expensive designer stores was something that Rafe had always taken pride in doing. His Prada sunglasses sat perched on his nose while he had your arm linked with his, keeping you close to him. Rafe was never good at telling you how much you meant to him, so he figured he would try and show you by buying everything you could ever want. After all, his most prized possession was practically skipping next to him, giving him a smile that melted his entire heart.

Rafe was never bored, trying his best to take mental notes of everything that you touched with any interest at all. Watching his girl thrive with happiness because of the small things that he was doing for you made him smile right along with you.

Every time that you would buy something, you instantly started to carry it in the oversized bags. You still weren’t fully used to this luxurious treatment, even after two years, so through muscle memory you always held your own bags. “Here baby, let me.” Rafe would insist every time without missing a beat.

At the end of your trip, his arms were filled to the brim with different bags from every different shop that you strolled into.

“I can take some, Rafe.” You said with a giddy smile, feeling guilty that your only baggage was the pink purse that you had insisted on carrying yourself.

It took you by surprise when he glared at you, almost as a warning. You were confused, not realizing how much he was against you doing the things that he wanted to do for you. Putting everything in the back of his sports car, you helped yourself into the passenger seat and waited patiently as he got into the driver’s seat. Without any hesitation, his hand was resting on your thigh the moment he got in.

“Thank you, Rafe.” You said with a smile, kissing him and letting him deepen it, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as your head went to the hazy place it always did when he kissed you like that.

The drive home was always his favorite part, your excited and rushed voice as you tried to tell him about everything you had gotten all at once. He let out a breathy chuckle as you stuttered over your words, smiling bigger when you laughed with him. 

Back at Tannyhill, Rafe had pulled in all of the bags and lined them up in the corner of your shared room. Out of excitement, you started to film a quick haul of your favorite items for your friends. Leaning the camera on a windowsill and preparing everything was easy enough, but being able to actually film anything was the bigger obstacle.

Rafe stood to the side, moving into the frame whenever you turned around or even to the side with the intention to block out your ass. 

“Rafe!” You whined, a pout showing across your face.

He raised his eyebrows at you, cocking his head in a look of warning.

When you finally cut the video and watched the whole thing back, you realized it was no good in the first place. Most of the video was Rafe’s leg blocking any view that the camera could have of absolutely anything. You let out an angry sigh as he watched over your shoulder.

“M’sorry baby..” He said, trying to hide his smug smile as he hugged you from behind and breathed in the Chanel perfume on your neck, “Don’t need people seein’ what’s mine, a’ight?”

You rolled your eyes but it was hard to be mad at him when you already felt his lips on your shoulder. 

“I forgive you..” You said, pretending to be annoyed as he flipped you around gently and kissed you again, this time on the lips.

“No baby.. let me show you how sorry I really am.” Rafe said with a smile, deepening the kiss and letting his hand run down from your back to your ass.

You let Rafe take control, knowing that the second part of your apology was playing out perfectly.

(lmk if anyone wants a pt 2!)

︵‿︵‿༊*·˚୧‿︵‿︵

#mariespen #outer banks #rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe drabble #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #protective!rafe #protective rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx cast #outer banks imagine #obx #drew starkey #protective boyfriend #rafe smut

[bell4donn4]

Getaway truck | a western road trip with Luke Castellan

Tags: established relationship,Luke and reader are basically the mom and dad of chb, reader’s godly parent is not specified.

Author’s note: tbh I’ve been lowkey obsessed w western Americana and road trips. I wanted this to be longer but whatever

The humid wind coming from the rolled down window gently messed up your hair.

You sat quietly on the passenger seat of the washed out green truck you and Luke rented. It must have been a Ford 1967, or some other kind of vintage model.

You couldn’t tell, and honestly, you didn’t bother to anyways, too busy looking out of the window admiring the desertic surroundings; sipping on your coca-cola.

<<you smudged your lipstick>> he glanced at you, taking his eyes off the road to send you a lopsided smile. One of his big and rough hands rested on your bare thigh, exposed by your jeans shorts.

It was mid summer, almost autumn time, yet the western country side never failed to drain you out with its scorching weather.

<<did I?>> you pulled down the visor, inspecting yourself in the small mirror; but you could tell he was right by the red stain on the metal can.

<<oh yeah, I did>>

Luke laughed lowly while he took a turn to the left, hand strong and firm on the steering wheel. You admired him in silence, a sort of pride filling your ego as you looked at your boyfriend.

That day, he wore a white linen shirt, which he (purposely) left unbuttoned on the chest, making his Hermes dog-tag visible. A pair of sunglass used to sit in the bridge of his nose, but were now long forgotten on the dashboard. It felt weird to see him without the bright orange shirt.

This little getaway from camp was going more than lovely. Finally free from all the responsibilities you both had to take on. You couldn’t even imagine how the camp must have looked like in that moment, with both of the two head counsolers gone.

<<do you think they set the cabins on fire?>>

<<for how long have we been away?>> Luke said

<< half a day?>> you nodded

<<yeah then, the woods are probably already burning as well. Along with the cabins and all>>

he hummed in approval at his own answer, earning a giggle from you.

He caressed your thigh with his thumb.

<<im joking, I’m sure the kids will be alright>>

<<you sound like an old dad>>

He shrugged his shoulders, grinning; but just as it started, the conversation slowly died down.

In the background of your comfortable silence, a low melody coming from the radio filled your ear.

With Luke, you didn’t need to talk. No many words need to be spoken with a man like him. You have been together enough to understand each other in silence. Plus— that should’ve been a sort of vacation from the chaos of camp.

So you preferred not to add anything else, simply allowing the worries to occupy the back of your mind.

You turned the music up as Molly Parton started playing.

You enjoyed the song, humming along the robotic notes coming from the radio.

Fortunately, by the time you arrived at your destination— a lake far far away from the one you had to see everyday— the worries were all gone. Replaced by that fuzzy feeling that only being with Luke could give you.

#luke castellan #pjo series #percy jackson #luke castellan smut #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #pjo smau #pjo show #pjo smut #pjo boys #pjo cast #pjo disney+ #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson smut #charlie bushnell x you #luke castellan fluff #road trip

[abibliophobiaa]

One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?

don’t you call him ‘baby’

steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]

——

There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.

Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.

“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.

His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.

Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”

He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”

Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.

You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.

“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”

Such sweet words — if only you had known.

He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.

But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.

Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.

He gets his answer that night.

Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.

Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”

He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.

“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”

Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.

Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.

The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.

——

He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.

“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”

“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.

Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.

“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.

The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.

“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”

“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”

“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.

“If you’ll let me.”

“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”

He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.

——

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb

[succubusmunson]

Let’s Play

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous game of who can make the other break first.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), semi toxic relationship, exhibitionism kink, teasing, begging, praise, oral (m and f receiving), ball play, rimming (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), choking, spanking, slapping, breeding kink, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 4.8K

(this was kinda rushed in the end, but i hope y’all enjoy!)

Remember to reblog and support the author!

You looked in the rear view mirror one last time before taking a breath and stepping out of your car. 

Corroded Coffin was playing a show (if you could call a small crowd of local drunks and cougars a show), and while you were still mad over the stupid argument you had with Eddie earlier in the day, you still wanted to show up and support him. 

You walked into the bar, a small group of patrons scattered around it. Your eyes scanned the bar looking for your boyfriend and of course, he was talking up some women with big tits. You knew exactly where tonight was headed just by looking at him. This is the game he really wanted to play? You were here to be nice, but seeing him talking to the bartenders had smoke blowing out your ears. 

Eddie saw you by the front door and immediately pushed the girls aside, striding over to you. “I’m glad you came, sweetheart.” His smile was big and bright, but he had that mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Oh, are you?” You pushed your sunglasses to rest on your head, your arms coming to cross against your chest. 

You made sure to wear Eddie’s favorite outfits. It always left him drooling after you, staring at you like a starved man. Two can play this game, it was all about who would break first. 

It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. You and Eddie always did this, fought, had mind blowing make up sex, and did it all over again. It was a never ending cycle. The two of you loved each other, were in love with each other, but that didn’t stop the fights you had. 

You heard it before, from your friends and family, that you fought this way to keep each other close, to have that spark always lit. No matter how many fights or nights where you almost went to bed angry, the spark was always there, always fully lit between the two of you. The two of you just couldn’t resist each other

“You gonna do this,” he looked around the bar, showing how now wasn’t the time to bring any of this up, “now?” 

Your eyes rolled at him being a tad bit over dramatic. He was acting all innocent, but that glint in his eyes told another story.

You placed a freshly manicured hand on Eddie’s hard chest, feeling his heartbeat under it. It sped up when you touched him, sending shockwaves throughout his body, and all the blood straight to his cock.

“I see that look, Eddie.” You stood up on your tippy toes, your lipstick stained lips pressed against his ear. “You wanna play just as much as I do.”

Eddie had to bite back a groan. Feeling you this close to him, touching him, always sent him into a daze. You had this hold over him, and he didn’t want you to let go.

He tried to compose himself, cleaning his throat. “Maybe I do,” he pulled your body flush against his, his arms snaking around your waist. “You better watch yourself tonight, sweetheart.”

You pulled away from him, slowly walking backwards to the bar. “It’s you who should watch yourself.” You winked at him, licking your lips. “I always win.”

Soon enough, Eddie and the band took the stage. They looked comfortable up there, and as they should. Corroded Coffin have been playing at The Hideout for years, always hoping for the day that some huge record label person would walk in and sign them. 

The bass quickly slithered its way into your body, making your heart beat out of your chest. It felt like you were vibrating, but you loved it. 

Many songs were played as Eddie kept flirting with the cougars by the stage. Getting on his knees in front of them, slowly licking his lips, practically humping the mic stand. He did all this knowing that you were watching, hoping the jealousy was bubbling up inside you. 

You couldn’t deny the need you had for him as you watched him, though. He was sweaty, beads dripping from his hair to his forehead. The bulge in his tight fitted pants was big enough for you to see where you stood, and the winks he kept sending your way had you weak in the knees. He was making it hard to focus, to breathe. 

You two had the other wrapped around your fingers. 

The set ended and just as Eddie jumped down, you turned your back to him. You were putting on a front and flirting with the bartender that had been making your drinks. Batting your eyelashes, letting your fingers linger over his when he handed you your drink. You even let out a few giggles, tossing your head back. You made sure that you were being loud enough for Eddie to hear. 

And Eddie definitely heard, he walked up to you and pressed his sweaty chest into your back. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, but you weren’t sure if it was from just playing his heart out or the sight of you flirting with some stupid bartender.

Eddie didn’t say anything to you as he stood behind you, he just grabbed your ass and walked away. He had something up his sleeve, you knew it. 

You watched him go over to a girl who was leaning up against the wall, smoking. Even though you couldn’t hear what was being said, you know he was asking to bum a cigarette. Eddie was always losing his somewhere. 

What took you by surprise was when the girl popped it into his mouth, slowly running her fingers down his neck and chest. 

Your fists balled at your sides as your eyes shot daggers at them. 

The girl leaned forward, her forehead almost touching Eddie’s. She was smiling in his face and you swear you heard her ask, “do you have one brand of cigarettes you love… or are you open to other options?” Her hand went lower, almost reaching the top of his belt.

You couldn’t take it any fucking longer.

She popped open her lighter and went to light the cigarette dangling from Eddie’s lips. 

Seeing red, you pulled him away, straight to the bar's nasty bathroom. At this point, you didn’t care where the two of you fucked, you just wanted him.

Eddie lost it the second you pushed the door close, pulling your body closer to his, and grabbing you by the back of the neck. “Who’s the winner now?” 

You rolled your eyes, already working on undoing his belt. “You’re joking right? She was almost kissing you!” Your voice was raised, sure to be heard over the music playing outside the bathroom. 

Eddie chuckled darkly, his grip getting tighter on you. “How about we talk about all that giggling you were doing with the bartender?” He leaned down and caught you in a feverish kiss, his teeth biting down in your bottom lip, and making you gasp. “Fucking pathetic to see you throw yourself at him like that.”

“Oh, so drunk girls can throw themselves at you all the time but the second I talk to some cute guy you have to act like this?” Your hands dropped from his belt and came up to rest confidently on your hips. 

“Cute?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, his teeth gritting, and his jaw clenched. “You wanna find another choice of words?”

“No, I don't.”

“You’re really digging yourself a hole?” He walks you backwards, pinning you between him and the wall, your back hitting the tiled, cold wall with a slight thud. “Are you really sure you want to go down this route?”

Deciding to push Eddie’s limits further, you shrugged. “What are you gonna do?” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he ripped your shirt right down the middle, the ripping off the fabric echoing in your eyes. “I’m gonna make sure you know that you can’t have anyone but me.” 

He took you by surprise, the cold air surrounding your body and making your nipples immediately harden.

Eddie looked up at you. His big, brown eyes are filled not with innocence, but lust, jealousy, and need. 

You couldn’t deny how wet you were at this moment. Your thighs were sticky as you clenched them together, and your skin felt hot. All you wanted was Eddie, all you needed was him. 

“Please…” Eddie knew what you wanted by your tone of voice, but he was going to make you work for it. 

“On your knees, pretty girl.” He undid his belt quickly, letting it clank as he pulled down his jeans and boxers just under his ass.

His cock was already hard, leaking with precum, and his balls heavy with the need to be drained. 

Slowly, you dropped to your knees, your eyes still looking up at him. His cock right in front of your face, just waiting for you to put that mouth to good use. 

“Open,” you quickly obeyed, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. 

Eddie grabbed the base of his cock and slapped the leaky tip against your tongue. The salty precum flooded your tastebuds and you closed your eyes to try and savor the flavor longer. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip, your tongue licking over the slit before taking more of him in your mouth. 

“Fuck- it’s always so easy to shut you up like this.” Eddie’s hand rested on the back of your neck, holding your head still so he could fuck his cock into your throat. “Just fucking take it.” 

You gagged and your eyes started to tear up, but that didn’t stop you from opening your mouth more. 

Eddie’s balls slapped wetly with each thrust of his hips against your chin, drool dripping down it. You were sure your throat was going to be raw after him fucking your face, but it was all worth it. “Doing such a good job for me, baby.”

You tried to speak, tried to thank him but your voice came out muffled. His cock was stuffed fully in your mouth. 

“Shhh, don’t try to talk.” Eddie ran a thumb over your cheek soothingly, wiping your tears away before gently slapping you. “Just let me fuck your pretty face.”

His hips thrusted, the tip of his cock nudging at your throat. Your lungs burned from lack of air, but you could stay on your knees for him forever. 

Your nose was pressed against the small thatch of curls at the base of Eddie’s cock, his balls wetly pressed against your chin. His cock throbbed in your mouth and against your tongue. You swallowed around his cock, gagging each time it hit the back of your throat.

Eddie wrapped a hand around your throat, feeling his cock bulge in it. He couldn’t help but groan, knowing you took all his cock in your mouth like the good girl you are.

“God damn it,” he pulled you away, your spit webbing between your lips and his cock. 

He didn’t stop there. Instead, he pulled your head closer to his balls, dragging them across your waiting lips. His cock was pressed against your face, precum smearing across your forehead. 

You did want you know he wanted, you opened your mouth and sucked the heavy sack in. Your tongue rolled against the velvety skin, your teeth nibbling here and there. 

“S-shit,” Eddie’s blunt nails dug into your skin, creating crescent moon shapes in their wake. 

You kept sucking, pulling on them. Having them in your mouth was enough to have your hips rolling against the air, looking for any type of friction against your clit. He knew what a slut you were for his balls. 

“Yeah? You like having my balls in your mouth?” He smirked down at you as you tried to nod your head with your mouth full of him. 

You grabbed his cock and moved your hand up and down in a twisting motion. More precum bubbled out of the slit and over your knuckles. Your spit and all the precum made it easy for your hand to move in swift motions.

While moving your hand up and down, squeezing at the tip, you gargled around his balls. Each lick and nibble making Eddie shake with pleasure.

“Shit-shit,” Eddie’s stomach muscles tightened and he was close to cumming. 

You could feel his cock twitch and throb in your hand, the precum dripping continuously down your knuckles.

As much as Eddie wanted to cum on your face right now, he couldn’t couldn’t let that happen yet. He had to cum in your pussy tonight. He wanted to fill you up until he had nothing left to give, breed you nice and full.

Eddie pulled his balls from your mouth and looked down at you. The sight of you on your knees, looking perfect, had him in awe. 

Your lipstick was smeared across your chin, eyeliner and mascara running down your cheeks with tears. You looked pretty like this. A pretty mess that he had made.

Eddie helped you stand up, and turned you around. His chest was pressed up against your back as his hands roamed over your body. “Let’s get you out of this pants.” 

His fingers made quick work, unbuttoning your jeans, and sliding his cold fingers inside your panties. “Who’s got you all wet? I know it isn’t that bartender.” 

“Y-you.” Your voice was quiet and shaky, his fingers barely brushing against your clit. 

“What was that? I didn’t hear you?” Oh, he heard you alright, he just wanted to hear you say it again. Eddie always wanted to hear how he was the only one who could get you soaked. No one else held such power over you.

“You, Eddie.” You wiggled your hips, his fingers pinching at your clit. “I’m wet for you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Just as quickly as he slid his fingers into your panties, he slid them back out. 

Eddie helped you shimmy down your jeans and panties off in one go, pooling around your ankles before you stepped out of them.

His rough hands grabbed at your supple skin. Digging into the flesh of your ass, feeling your body mold into his hands. He had you just where he wanted you. 

“I don’t know whether to tease you,” he trailed a blunt fingernail up your back, goosebumps forming over your hot skin. “Or give you so many orgasms that you’re crying by the time I’m done with you.”

You shook your head rapidly, breath hitching each time he touched you. “Please don’t tease me, I can’t handle it.”

Eddie chuckled darkly in your ear, his teeth grazing against your earlobe. Every part of your body felt hot, the need for him almost becoming too much. “You think you have a say in this? You don’t, sweetheart. Remember, I won.”

“I make the rules,” his hand came down with a hard spank! across your ass cheek, causing you to let out a high pitched, breathy moan. The crack of his hand against your ass was loud enough to echo against the dirty walls. “You just sit there, look pretty, and take what I give you.”

Spank! Spank! Spank! His hand came down hard against your ass, over and over again. Your head was reeling, and you knew Eddie was enjoying it by all the chuckling he was doing. 

The stings of the initial spanks and Eddie's rings made you hiss in pain and pleasure. If you weren’t wet before, you’re certainly dripping now.

Eddie walked you until your stomach was pressed against the sink, trapping you in. Both of his hands grabbed your ass cheeks, pulling them apart and exposing you. 

God, you had the most perfect cunt. It was the prettiest color he had ever seen, was always so fucking wet, and it fit his cock perfectly. Each part of you, no matter the part, was made for him.

He groaned from behind you, licking his lips. “You’re fucking dripping.” His finger ran up the back of your thigh until it ghosted over your cunt, collecting some of your slick. 

You gripped the edge of the sink, trying to compose yourself. 

Eddie’s dark eyes looked at you through the mirror, smirking at you. He popped a finger in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, making sure it was nice and clean. “God, I can’t get enough of how you taste.”

Behind you, he got down on his knees. He placed a hand on your lower back, bending you over the sink. 

You let out a shocked moan the second you felt Eddie lick up from your sopping wet cunt all the way up to your puckered, pink hole. If this sink wasn’t made out of porcelain, it might have been broken with the tight grip you had on it. 

“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes rolled in the back of your head just as Eddie wrapped his plump lips around your clit. “Yes- Eddie!” 

You reached a hand around and held into the back of his head, grinding your hips back against his exploring tongue. 

“Mmm, mhm.” He couldn’t say much, but Eddie was showing just how much he loved the taste of you. Letting his tongue dip into your cunt for a moment before licking up towards your ass, getting it all nice and wet with his spit. 

Eddie was slurping, licking, and sucking. He was doing everything he could with his skilled mouth and tongue to pull those pretty, pornographic moans that he loved so much coming from you.

Each moan sounded like an angel singing in his ears to him. If he could have your moans on repeat forever, he would.

The hand you had in Eddie’s hair pulled at his curls, his own moans sending vibrations through your body. “So good, Eddie, so fucking good!” 

It was hard to keep your balance and not fall straight to your knees. The pleasure was growing and you could feel your orgasm fast approaching, making your toes curl in your shoes.

Eddie knew you were close too, and he wanted to feel you cum all over his face. He pulled your pussy lips apart and suckled your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head side to side, letting his teeth barely graze it. 

Your clit throbbed in his mouth as your orgasm kept building and building until you finally let go. 

“I-I’m cumming!” You were afraid that Eddie would stop, edge you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But he let you cum, kept sucking at your clit like his life depended on it, making obscene slurping noises. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and slammed your hand on the sink as your orgasm ripped through your body. It was taking its time running through you, letting you feel every bit of pleasure it had to give. “Fuck, fuck!” 

It’s safe to say that no one could eat pussy like Eddie. He was a god at it. You knew it, he knew it, and so did all those girls that could hear you screaming in the bar.

Eddie pulled away just as you finished cumming, standing back up, and looking at you through the mirror. His lips were swollen, covered in the mess you had made on him, practically dripping in your cum. “You wanna taste?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, just grabbed you, and forced your head to turn. His lips felt sticky, hot, and wet. His tongue danced around yours, both of you moaning into the kiss. You both lingered in the kiss for a moment, melting into each other. 

You pulled away, letting nothing but strings of salvia connect the two of you together. “Jesus Christ, Eddie.” Your breath was still labored from before, never fully catching it.

“I’m just getting started,” he grabbed the back of your thighs and sat you on the surprisingly sturdy sink. Your legs dangled above the floor and your ass barely hung off the sink. 

“You look so pretty all fucked out.” Eddie didn’t let you argue with him, shoving two of his thick fingers in your mouth. 

You bobbed your head up and down them, letting your tongue lick between them. Eddie and you held eye contact the whole time his fingers were in your mouth, you getting them all nice and wet. 

He kicked your legs apart and took his spit wet fingers from your mouth. 

“Eddie,” you bucked your hips into the air, already needing something touching you again. 

“Hmm?” He trailed his fingers up your thigh, licking his lips. “You want something?” 

“You know I do.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your cunt. “Don’t do this to me, please.” 

“Look at you begging,” two fingers slowly slid into your cunt, your mouth falling agape. “What? nothing to say now?” 

Eddie held his fingers still, watching as you became greedy and fucked yourself against them. Your hips lifted off the sink a little each time you bucked your hips, trying to get Eddie to fuck you with his fingers. 

“Fucking move.” 

He grabbed you by the throat, squeezing it, and cutting off a small amount of your air supply. “Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.”

Your chest heaved as you tried to take in deep breaths, your heart starting to beat rapidly. “Shit- Eddie… please fuck me with your fingers, I need it.” 

Eddie smirked at you, resting his forehead against yours. “C’mon, that was nothing. I know you can do a lot better than that.”

“I’ll do whatever you want, please! You’re the only one who knows what I love, how to make me cum.” Your eyes welled, tears threatening to spill over. One orgasm wasn’t enough, your body craved more.

He curled his fingers inside your cunt, pumping them in and out. His eyes never left yours, watching as they filled with pleasure. “That’s a good fucking girl.” 

“Y-yes,” your breath came out hitched as his thumb started to toy with your clit. “I’m your good girl.” 

“Yeah?” His fingers fucked you harder, your body shaking each time he fucked them into you. “Just my good girl, right?” 

“Yes! Just- holy fucking shit!” 

Eddie caught you off guard, wrapping his lips around one of your swollen nipples. He pulled at it with his teeth before moving to the other way, doing the exact same thing. He hummed against your skin. 

Your head fell back against the mirror as your cunt squelched around his fingers, gushing as his fingers grazed against your g-spot. Your head spun as you let out silent screams, your body shaking the more you came. 

The breath felt like it was punched from your lungs, your throat raw. You didn’t want this feeling to ever stop. You felt purely euphoric, everything tingled in the most perfect way.

“Holy fuck, baby.” Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away you, his fingers still fucking into you harder and harder. He was in complete awe at the way you squirted from his fingers. “Such a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

Abruptly, he pulled his fingers out of you, watching the way they were dripping in your cum. You whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie helped you off the sink, holding you steady as your legs wobbled. “You get to cum on my cock this time.” 

You bent over the sink, pushing your ass out, and wiggling it in the air. As sensitive as you were, you craved his cock. “God, please. I need it.”

Eddie slid his pants and boxers down to his ankles, letting them pool. “I can see how badly you do, sweetheart.” He rubbed the throbbing top of his cock around your clit, slapping it a few times. “Want me to fill you up nice and full of my cum? Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you turned your head to the side, making eye contact with him. “Please fill me up.” 

He barely let you finish talking before he slid his cock inside your soaked cunt, balls pressing right against your clit. Your body fell forward against the sink, your hand resting against the mirror. You were so full of cock that you couldn’t think straight, couldn’t form a coherent sentence. 

“I- Eddie- oh my,” your brain was shut off and the only thing it could focus on was the throbbing of Eddie’s cock stuffed tightly in your cunt.

“God dammit, baby,” Eddie pressed his body over yours, engulfing you in him. He dropped his head against your shoulder blade, his breath coming out in short pants. “Your cunt was made for my cock.”

You reached behind you, digging your nails into whatever part of him you could grab. “You feel so fucking good!” 

Eddie chuckled, “bet that bartender, or anyone else, couldn’t fuck tou like this huh? He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing until you opened your mouth to catch your breath. “No, no… only I can fuck you this good.”

Your lungs burned for hair, but Eddie kept adding pressure. He smirked each time he squeezed your throat, making you whine. 

“O-only you can!” His cock felt so good, sliding in and out of you, making you gasp and writhe against him. 

Eddie pulled all the way out, leaving just the top of his cock inside you. You tried to grind your hips against him, but he let go of your throat to hold your hips still, keeping you in place. 

“Say you’re mine,” his fingers on one hand dug into your flesh while the other cupped your jaw, forcing you to look into the mirror. “Fucking say it.” 

You were a wreck, but you’ve never looked better. 

“I-I’m yours!” Eddie slammed back into you, his hips slamming into yours at a bruising pace. “I’m all fucking yours!”

“That’s right,” Eddie could feel you getting closer, your cunt tightening around his cock. “You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” 

“Please, please, please.”

He wrapped a hand around your body, finding your clit, and rubbing fast, harsh circles. Your body collapsed against the sink as your toes curled and thighs shook. You couldn’t hold it in any longer, fully letting go and cumming around Eddie’s cock. 

You saw stars as you squeezed your eyes shut and screamed Eddie’s name at the top of your lungs. 

“Yes, Eddie, yes!” You tried to stop shaking, to calm down but you couldn’t, not when Eddie didn’t stop fucking you. 

“Give me one more, I know you can.” He grabbed your shoulder and pressed his chest against your back. “Can you do it? You gonna cum with me?” 

You weakly nodded your head, letting Eddie do whatever he wanted to you. 

He was close, his hips stuttering as he kept fucking you. His fingers never left your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts, making you bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“My pretty fucking girl,” Eddie gritted his teeth. “Gonna fill you up and let my cum drip down your thighs so everyone can see.” 

You focused on him in the mirror. His eyes were shut, mouth opened as he groaned, and his chest flushed a bright red. “Do it, please fucking do it!”

Eddie’s hips stilled as the both of you finally came together, your cum dripping down his cock as he kept his promise, pumping you full of his cum. 

“T-take it all,” Eddie opened his eyes and looked between your bodies where he could see his cock twitch, cumming inside you. “Just like that, baby.”

Deep pants quickly filled up the now quiet bathroom, neither of you able to find your voice after cumming. The two of you stayed in the same position for awhile, savoring in the blissful moment of a jealous fuck. 

It wasn’t until someone was banging on the bathroom door that Eddie finally pulled out of you, both of you wincing from the sensation. 

You still had a tight grip on the sink, not trusting your wobbly legs to hold you up. “I can’t feel my legs.” 

Behind you, Eddie was pulling up his pants, a smirk plastered on his face. “What can I say? I always know how to make you feel good.”

You quickly flipped him off before finally getting dressed yourself. Your panties were nowhere to be found, but you just shrugged it off, someone would find them later. Only then did you remember that your shirt was ripped down the middle. “I need your shirt.”

“Why?” 

“Unless you want everyone to see my tits-“

Eddie tossed you his shirt, his jaw clenched just from the thought of someone seeing you in such an intimate way. “Put it on.”

You opened the bathroom door after getting dressed, noticing all the people staring at you. “Do you think they heard?” 

Eddie found your panties under the sink, shoving them in his back pocket, making sure it was noticeable that he had them. “With the way you scream for my cock? They definitely heard.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #eddie musnon fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic

[iliketangerines]

Mk1 liu kang with a bratty reader that has acrylic nails and always wants to eat at expensive places-

a lesson to be learned

a/n: bro, i need him to put me in my place fr

pairing: dom!liu kang x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), spanking, blowjobs, handjobs, edging, creampies, semi-public sex, face slapping, choking, mirror sex

you check your nails absentmindedly as Liu Kang stares at you from across the table

you tap your acrylic nails on the table as you decide to peruse the menu once more, and you tell the waiter your order, something outrageously expensive

Liu Kang sighs and tells the waiter his order, adjusting his sunglasses to hide his glowing eyes, and you scroll through your phone, swirling the wine in your glass

Liu Kang grabs the glass from your hands, you having drinken one too many glasses, and you haven’t even eaten your dinner yet

you glare at him and snatch your glass right back, and Liu Kang can feel the threads of patience snap

you had been bratty all day, ignoring his kisses and his words to scroll on your phone, and you hadn’t listened to a single thing he had told you to do

you huff and stand up to go and use the restroom, citing that you need to fix your make-up, and you leave and grab your purse with you

your short dress rides up your legs, and you do nothing to hide how it barely covers your ass

hungry stares look at you as you sway your hips while walking to the bathroom, and Liu Kang decides he has to teach you a lesson

the god watches as you disappear into the bathroom, and he follows quickly after

your eyebrows raise in surprise as you seen him enter the bathroom, and he locks the door behind him, making sure no one else is in the bathroom

he immediately bends you down over the sink

you complain, but all Liu Kang can see is the way your dress rides up your ass and exposes the lacy panties you had chosen to wear

your complaints are quickly silenced as he lands a firm smack on your ass, and you whine

he glares at you and tells you to be quiet; you don’t want anyone to know after all, huh?

Liu Kang continues to land smacks on your ass, and tears start to run down your face as your ass bruises and turns red from how hard he hits you

he growls at you between each smack, telling you how much of a brat you are disobeying him, how whorish you look with your dress riding up your ass

you’re trying your best to hold in your moans, but when he lands a particularly loud slap across the back of your thighs, a high-pitched whine escapes your mouth

Liu Kang narrows his eyes at you and brings you off the sink and forces you to your knees on the cold marble floor

he pulls out his cock and tells you to suck, and you open up your mouth to suck on the tip of his dick and use your hand to pump at the rest of him

you moan around his dick as he fists your hair, and you dip your tongue into the slit, trying to please Liu Kang

but he still looks angry and soon he moves your head up and down his dick, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat

it causes you to gag, but he keeps on fucking into your mouth, and you can feel tears running down your cheeks and your lipstick staining his cock

your hand reaches down your legs to touch yourself, pussy dripping with need and your clit throbbing and begging for attention

Liu Kang notices how your hand dips into your panties, and he pulls you off his dick and slaps your face before pulling you up by the neck

he lightly chokes you and grabs at both of your wrists with a singular large hand, telling you brats don’t get to touch themselves

you let out a choked moan at the pressure at your neck, and your mind spins with pleasure

Liu Kang growls and rips off your panties and shoves them into your mouth as he picks you up

your back is flush to his chest, and your legs are hooked over his arms, exposing your pussy to the mirror

he tells you watch yourself, see how much of a desperate whore you are and how needy your pussy looks

you can see how your cunt drools, wetness dripping onto the floor, and the both of you can see the way your pussy clenches around nothing

Liu Kang adjusts his hips and thrusts into you, and you whine at the sudden stretch

your panties muffle your moans as Liu Kang fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt filling the air along with his quiet grunts

with every thrust, you can see how your wetness drips onto the floor and causes a mess, and you reach a hand up to grip onto Liu Kang’s hair

your nails dig into Liu Kang’s scalp, and he growls, fingers digging into your thighs and leaving small bruises and burns

you can see the way your clit is puffy and begging for attention, but he ignores it, instead opting to whisper into your ear

he tells you to keep watching, watch as your god fucks into you, see how you’re such a slut for him, to look at him as he fucks you

you whine as his thrusts grow more erratic and he bites your neck

he cums inside of you, but you’re still needy, clit puffy and swollen as you feel yourself fall away from the edge of pleasure

he ignores your whines and tells you that brats don’t get what they want

his seed drips onto the floor as he slips out of you and cleans himself up and takes your panties out of your mouth and stuffs them into his pocket

he tells you to clean yourself up, and you do so with shaky hands, trying to reapply your make-up and wiping off your wetness and his cum off your thighs and the floor

he combs his fingers through your hair, and by the end, you look somewhat presentable

your eyes are still somewhat glossy, but he exits the bathroom first and you exit a short while later

the both of you sit down, and the waiter brings you both your food

but all you can focus on is the throbbing need between your legs

Liu Kang tells you keep both of your hands on the table and kicks your legs apart underneath the table, so you can’t rub your thighs together or try to sneak a hand underneath your dress

he watches you struggle to eat as he finishes rather quickly, and you’re near tears at the lack of pleasure and friction by the end of the dinner date

you finally finish your meal, barely touching the rest of your wine as Liu Kang finishes off the bottle, and Liu Kang pays for the meal and helps you up on your shaky legs

he brings you back home quickly, and you expect him to finally touch you and give you what you want

but when he smiles at you and drags you over his lap, dress riding up and exposing your red ass, you know he’s far from done with punishing you

#tangerine writes #tangerine answers #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #mortal kombat x reader #mk x you #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #liu kang #liu kang mk1 #mk1 liu kang #liu kang smut #liu kang x you #liu kang x reader #liu kang x y/n

[whatstheoccasion]

DRUNK IN LOVE — smoker, mihawk, law, sanji, zoro, robin.

blurbs where they confess things they never would've under any other circumstances. after all, humans are at their most vulnerable while drunk.

"You're underestimating me." Smoker lets the strong liquor talk for him, his voice as gruff as always, yet a tone more vulnerable and truthful than he's ever been. "I will wage wars in your name," he says, meaning every word.

Mihawk is intoxicated, his voice slurred and vulnerable in a way it can only be caused by his high liquor. "I have no other homeland but you." His heart is a dark little thing that writhes and fights against your hands, but you hold on tight no matter what, and he thinks that maybe, certain dark things are meant to be held.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, stop." Law grunts, carefully setting his drink down. He's brought back to the garbage dump, a place he called home for the longest three years of his life, a place where love didn't exist. That's the hell he crawled away from, and by God, he refuses to get back there– but he needs you there to keep that promise. So Law clicks his tongue, and ignores the way his heart thumps wildly against his chest when you look at him. "I would rather break the world than lose you."

"I call you and you don't come, I love you and you don't love me." Sanji laughs, hot alcohol breath mingling with the scent of his cigarettes. "But what else can I do, my love." You're speechless, never having seen the cook in such a state, his gaze sad and utterly lonely. Sanji sighs before continuing, like he can't stop himself. "You were the brightest shade of the sun I've ever seen, and I inevitably burned. My love, it's entirely my fault." He exhales a gray puff of smoke, his hands frustratingly clenched as his fingernails carve moon marks onto his soft palm. But he only smiles at you, the fake curve of it punching you straight to the gut. "Forget I said anything, mellorine. I won't hold it against you."

"Huh? Who the hell cares about what other people think?" Zoro clicks his tongue, irritation clear in his dark eyes. "If you are intolerable to them, then let me be the one to tolerate you." Because I have to return the favor somehow, he doesn't say. Yet, the sake running heavily through his veins is begging him to say more. "I ain't going nowhere," he tsks, dreadfully feeling a blush taking over his tanned cheeks. "We'll just have to work this out."

"It's alright." Robin's gentle smile burns into your mind, her voice slurred and heavy. "If you're the one to cut me, I'll just have to bleed forever." Her heart is heavy with longing, yearning something more from you than what you give her. She thinks, in between the waves of rationality that crash into her intoxicated mind, that love and war both are shades of red. Red, like her favorite sunglasses sitting in a corner of her bed. Red, like the sky was when she had first landed eyes on you– like her favorite lipstick stain on your mouth after a parting kiss, but also the blood leaking from her heart when you say your goodbyes. Because of you, red might just become her most hated color.

#gn reader #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #nico robin x reader #nico robin angst #nico robin scenarios #nico robin blurb #one piece blurb #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro angst #zoro scenarios #zoro blurb #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law angst #smoker x reader #mihawk x reader #sanji x reader #one piece headcanons #sanji angst #smoker angst #smoker fluff #mihawk fluff #zoro headcanons #trafalgar law headcanons #smoker headcanons #sanji headcanons #mihawk headcanons

[bitethehnd]

hi! could u write jb x reader where reader’s like super famous like tswift? like julien going to all this stuff reader goes and etc etc etc

thank uuu

*₊˚ ♫ 𖦹 miss americana and the heartbreak prince !

pairing : julien baker x popstar!reader

cw : all fluff! one sexual reference but that’s all

you and julien first met and an award show a few years ago. she and lucy were invited by phoebe to attend with her. you had just won a bunch of awards for your latest album, reputation. phoebe dragged them to go talk to you while she congratulated you. julien was just standing there, starstruck and staring at you. you noticed her state and were confused, but still introduced yourself to her

julien was standing a bit behind lucy, who was also a bit shocked but not as much as julien, to try to hide herself. you noticed her stare and turned your attention to the other two. you were taken aback because julien was even more gorgeous in person. utterly handsome.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry i haven’t introduced myself yet. i’m y/n!” you exclaimed excitedly and went to give lucy a hug. the tall woman laughed and congratulated you on your awards just won. you thanked her and turned to give julien a hug next.

you embraced her warmly, “it’s great to finally met you, julien. i’ve loved your music for so long.” she stiffened into the hug when you said that, not even expecting you to know who she was.

you both pulled away and she said, “oh god— thank you so much. you’re like… fucking amazing. i can’t believe you even know who i am.” you laughed like she just said something hilarious. “how could i not know who you are? phoebe never shuts up about you two and, well, your lyricism is amazing. i’ve actually taken a lot of inspiration from it. i’m a huge fan.” she could have died right there.

you four talk for a couple more minutes before you have to get back to your table. before you leave, you get both lucy and julien’s phone numbers and hug them both one last time. but not before kissing julien’s cheek and winking at her. she just stands there with your lipstick stain on her face while her friends are laughing at her.

after that night, julien couldn’t get you out of her head. you couldn’t get her out of yours either. about a week after you first met, you texted her and asked if she wanted to get coffee. she responded in like 0.2 seconds and said she’d loved to

you both went to a small coffee shop with hats and sunglasses to protect your identifies, you more than her. you guys talked for hours and the romance progressed from there <3

now into the actual relationship! she’s so supportive of your music and you are of hers. you both bounce lyric ideas off of each other all the time

writing an album dedicated to her <33 (*cough* lover *cough*). she literally tears up when you play her the songs. like just imagine sitting on your bed while you strum your guitar and sing love songs softly to her in the middle of the night :(( the ultimate dream

she makes multiple appearances in your documentary, 'miss americana.' you talk all about how she was such a breath of fresh air and how you were so honored to have the opportunity to love her. she gets so flustered behind the camera when you said that and gave you a giant kiss after

you were supposed to go on a tour for lover, but it ended up being canceled due to covid. instead, julien helps you write folklore and evermore (taylor and joe vibesss). you obviously give her writing credits so when folklore wins a grammy, she does too. it's her first grammy and she's so happy it was because of your work

when you win the grammy for folklore you extensively thank her in your acceptance speech and go on a whole rant about how much you love her. she's just sitting at your table giving you air kisses. you almost want to pull her on the stage with you, but you don't want to embarrass her

imagine just being holed up in the house during the pandemic and just writing songs with her for months. you would have thought you would have gotten bored, but she could never bore you. every day was special if it was spent with her

writing 'invisible string' about her <333 and her being a feature on 'exile' and 'evermore' (sorry bon iver). her voice just works so well with those songs

now onto your eras tour! midnights was a huge success and so naturally you were going to go on tour for the album. julien gave you the idea to go on tour for all of your albums since midnights was your 10th one. you loved the idea and so did your team, so the plan was put into place

you had originally asked her to be one of your openers, but she suggested you ask phoebe instead. you didn't know why she declined but she was secretly too nervous to play in front of that many people 😭 phoebe took you up on your offer with so much excitement! and of course asking muna too!! they're quickly become some of your closest friends. also going on their podcast, gayotic, and just talking about julien the whole time <3

julien helps you decide what songs to put on the setlist. you take literally all of her suggestions. she also watches you practice your chorography for all the different songs and says it's all amazing (everything you do is amazing in her opinion)

when the start of the tour comes around, she's at every show possible. even with boygenius's tour going on, she still makes the maximum effort to go see you perform. through jet lag or sickness, it doesn't matter

singing directly to her during lover when she's in the vip section. she gives you literal heart eyes back and fans love to film her reaction

she blushes so hard when you perform 'vigilante shit'... you make sure to give her a private performance that night ;)

she goes with you to every award show and event possible. at some point, no one even had to guess who your plus one was going to be. it was always her. and matching your dress to her suit is so cute

you are known to be quite the schemer when it comes to your music, dropping hints and easter eggs in almost everything you do. julien quickly becomes part of the fun and also teases your fans during interviews, etc

she just thinks it's so amazing that a queer artist can hold so much fame and love throughout the world <3 and she's definitely not biased because she's your girlfriend...

© bitethehnd

#bitethehnd #julien baker x reader #julien baker au #julien baker x you #julien baker fanfic #boygenius x reader #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

[rogue-durin-16]

Due to technical difficulties (me finally adulting), it's taking forever to write the third part to my Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader fic, but I swear it's coming, don't you worry.

#Sunglasses And Lipstick Stains #steve harrington x henderson!reader #chaotic cupid.txt

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 18

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: the sad, the sexy, and the scary.

words: ~ 3.1k | ao3 link in title

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The weather that Sunday reflected the mood of the day - it was pouring so heavily that you could barely see out of the windshield of Robin’s car as she drove you, Christin, and Cassandra to Jericho to attend Mayor Walker’s funeral. There was already a large crowd huddled outside, a sea of black coats and black umbrellas against the backdrop of a gray sky, rows upon rows of tombstones of Jericho’s only graveyard being beaten by the heavy downpour. 

It seemed that nearly all of Jericho’s inhabitants had shown up, in spite of the weather, and you recognized some Nevermore students and staff as well. You picked Larissa out of the crowd in an instant - towering over her students, hair so fair that she stuck out in the crowd. Biting your lip, you paused, taking in her somber expression - hidden behind large, dark sunglasses. You wanted so badly to reach out to her, to pull her into your arms and kiss her and protect her from the world - but then Cassandra gave your arm a tug, breaking your spell and leading you through the crowd to where Robin already stood with her family.

The eulogy was somber at best - the mayor was loved by many, that much was clear. At one point you glanced over at Larissa to see her gaze turned in your direction. You gave her a sad smile and she bowed her head, before turning her attention back to the mayor’s family. Glancing over the crowd of students behind her, you made eye contact with Wednesday, then with Enid, nodding at the both of them in acknowledgment.

When the funeral was officially over and the first few people started to either mingle or head to their cars, you asked your roommates to give you a minute and turned towards Larissa, who was already watching you. You pushed past a group of students to get to her, stopping awkwardly a few feet in front of her as your umbrellas prevented you from getting closer.

“Larissa,” you breathed out, shuffling your feet as you looked up at her, unsure of how to greet her with half of the school watching. 

“Hi, darling,” she whispered hoarsely, a sad smile tugging at her lips. She shifted her bag to the arm holding her umbrella and held out her free arm to you. After a moment’s hesitation, you lowered your own umbrella and ducked under hers, giving her a tight, one-armed hug and burying your face against her coat, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her perfume as it engulfed you.

It made you indescribably happy, knowing that she was ready to stop hiding your relationship - it was a simple thing, but you could sense that it was a big step for Larissa. You could feel her gloved hand gently rubbing your back, her lips pressed against the crown of your head. 

“How are you doing?” you asked softly as you pulled away just far enough to look into her eyes - or what you could see of them through the deep black lenses of her sunglasses.

“I’ve been better…”

“I don’t know if you noticed but it’s not really all that sunny out,” you teased, earning yourself a chuckle.

“I’ve also looked better, darling.” 

“I think you always look good.”

Your comment made Larissa’s cheeks turn slightly pink and she averted her gaze, her blush growing as she smiled awkwardly at a small group of Nevermore students that seemed to be watching the two of you curiously and whispering amongst themselves. Despite that, her hand never stopped rubbing your back - you felt your own cheeks grow warm and reached up to straighten the collar of her coat.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” you murmured hesitantly, biting your lip as you prepared yourself for a possible rejection. Larissa turned her attention back to you, her face unreadable for a moment as she thought. 

“Yes,” she whispered back, a genuine smile growing on her lips. She ducked her head and you met her halfway, pressing your lips to hers in a short, chaste kiss. Her lips were cold, as was her nose when it brushed against yours, yet you still felt a warmth spread through your body. When you pulled back, Larissa gently wiped a trace of lipstick off your lips with her thumb.

As you glanced away, you noticed a woman watching you. She had auburn hair and a fringe that hung into her eyes, which were framed by large glasses, and she wore a dark coat and red gloves. The look that she gave you was strange to say the least - she was frowning and her eyes were narrowed as she gave you a careful once-over, as if she was analyzing you. 

“Who’s that?”

Larissa turned to see who you were referring to - as soon as the woman noticed Larissa turning, her expression shifted to a smile, and you furrowed your brow.

“Marilyn Thornhill, one of our teachers at Nevermore. She’s the first normie teacher on our staff.” Larissa gave Marilyn a wave, which she returned before turning her attention to some students.

“How are you getting home?” Larissa asked you, turning back to you.

You bit your lip, reluctantly looking away from the strange woman and looking back up at Larissa. “I came here with my roommates, Robin is driving us back home.”

“Good…” Larissa cupped your cheek, looking at you with a hint of worry in her expression. “I need to get everyone back to Nevermore, please stay safe.”

You frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just be careful, alright?”

Chalking Larissa’s worry up to the mayor’s death and the funeral, not to mention the stress she’s been under lately, you nodded. “I will be, I promise.” 

~~~

The poor weather continued through much of the following week, the rain rarely easing up for more than an hour or two at a time. Most of your time outside of lectures was spent studying, or adding little touches to your portrait of Larissa - you’d refused to show it to her, wanting to give it to her as a gift when it was completely finished. 

On Friday morning, you found yourself growing bored of staying inside and pouring over your textbooks, and you decided to start clearing out your closet and sort through your old clothes. As you went through your drawers, a piece of lacy fabric caught your eye - the lingerie set that Larissa had gifted you in New York. A warm, tingly feeling grew in your stomach when you recalled how Larissa had looked at you when you’d worn it - it gave you an idea.

Locking the door to your room, you stripped yourself of your clothes and put on the lingerie. You placed your textbooks on your nightstand and propped your phone up against them, turning on the front camera and taking a few minutes to find a good angle before hitting record.

“Hi, Rissa.” You sat back your heels, keeping your thighs pressed together. “I miss you today, I really wish you were here…”

Closing your eyes, you trailed your hands down your body, imagining it was Larissa’s hands caressing your breasts, your waist, your thighs. You slowly spread your legs, allowing your fingers to lightly graze your inner thighs and letting out a little whimper as you pictured Larissa watching you, touching you and getting closer to your cunt, which was slowly getting wet.

The whimper turned into a moan as you brushed against your clit over the thin lace of the panties. Sliding your fingers lower, you could feel how soaked you were already and you let out a deep groan. “I’m so wet for you, I wish you could feel for yourself.” You opened your eyes - it was weird and a little embarrassing to be staring back at yourself in the front camera of your phone, and you could see your cheeks turn pink in real time. But you kept picturing how Larissa would look at you, how her pupils would dilate and her breaths would come out shaky and shallow through plump, parted lips. How she would be aching to touch you, or herself.

The thought spurred you on, and you made a show of tugging the flimsy lace to the side, spreading your thighs as wide as you could as you began to rub slow, firm circles around your clit. 

Staring directly into the camera, you used your other hand to gently caress the top of your breasts, where the lace of the bra ended. With a little tug downwards, you freed one of your breasts from the bra, allowing your head to loll back as you squeezed it and began to play with your nipple.

Your moans grew in volume, becoming filthier and more pornographic as you worked yourself to your peak, all the while imagining that it was Larissa touching you, Larissa’s fingers inside you, Larissa bringing you over the edge. You came with Larissa’s name on your lips, feeling your slick drip down your fingers. Looking directly into the camera, you removed your fingers from your dripping cunt and placed them in your mouth, sucking them clean. 

“I miss you,” you whispered hoarsely, your cheeks still flushed and your chest still heaving as you blew the camera a kiss and stopped the video.

Watching the video back you felt a little embarrassed - but you hoped Larissa would enjoy it, and you opened your texts with her.

Y/N: are you alone?

Larissa: Yes. Why?

You giggled to yourself and sent her the video, before pulling on a t-shirt and shorts and slipping to the bathroom to clean yourself up. And then you waited, perched on the edge of your bed and bouncing your leg in anticipation as you tried to distract yourself by scrolling through social media.

More than 20 minutes passed - Larissa was taking longer to reply than you’d thought she would, and you were starting to worry you’d done something wrong. Biting your lip, you texted Larissa again.

Y/N: Riss?

Another two minutes passed with no reaction - then, suddenly, your phone began to ring. Because of course Larissa would choose to call you, instead of texting you back.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you picked up the phone and held it to your ear.

“Darling.” Larissa’s voice was gravelly and she sounded out of breath - you knew you’d gotten the reaction you’d hoped for.

~~~

Larissa’s day was shaping up to be mind-numbingly boring, her morning filled with paperwork and preparations for her afternoon meetings. As she sipped her coffee, reading the same document for the third time with her concentration slipping, she heard her phone vibrate inside the drawer of her desk. 

Y/N: are you alone?

Your text piqued her interest and she furrowed her brow, quickly typing out a reply. She was intrigued to receive a video in return - the moment she pressed play, she felt her face flush and her mouth go dry. She’d been right to buy you that underwear - it suited you, and it made her wet to see you touch yourself while wearing it. 

Biting her lip so hard she could’ve drawn blood, the ache between her thighs grew with each and every movement of yours. She wanted - no, needed - to touch herself. Not in your office, she scolded herself. She had a shred of dignity left yet and she was determined to hold onto it. Her resolve began to waver, though, and soon she found herself teasing the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. 

With a glance at her door - it was shut, and surely she’d hear if someone were to come down the hall - she pushed her skirt up just a bit and allowed her hand to trail up her thigh. Her fingers brushed against her underwear - ruined - and she held back a soft whimper. She began to touch herself in tandem with your own movements in the video, rubbing her fingers over her clit and  working herself to the brink of pleasure.

A knock on the door to her office nearly caused Larissa to drop her phone in shock - she fumbled around frantically, pausing the video and locking her phone before smoothing her skirt and shifting the blush off of her cheeks. 

“Come in,” she called out, praying her voice came out as level as she intended it to. 

The door opened and Marilyn poked her head inside the office, smiling softly. “Principal Weems, do you have a minute?”

Larissa straightened her shoulders, plastering a professional smile on her face even as she wanted nothing more than to say no and kick the redhead out of her office. “Of course, Ms. Thornhill, please come in.”

Marilyn stepped inside the office, revealing that she was holding a pile of papers. Larissa found herself suppressing a groan - she really did not have the time for even more administrative work.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I just wanted to drop this off - Enid has requested to room with Yoko for the rest of the semester.” She stepped up to Larissa’s desk, handing her the paperwork. If she’d heard your video playing before knocking on the door, she was doing a damned good job at hiding it.

Larissa could feel a frown tugging at her lips as she glanced down at the forms - even the mere mention of Wednesday was enough for her to feel the beginnings of a headache forming. “And you’ve spoken with both girls?”

“Enid is adamant that she no longer wishes to room with Wednesday, and Wednesday is… well, Wednesday. She’s being a bit difficult as usual.” The redhead offered an apologetic smile, pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. 

“Well, thank you for trying,” Larissa said with a sigh, dropping the papers onto her desk and standing to escort Marilyn to the door when her phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with a text from you - Larissa was briefly distracted as she peeked down at the text, her thoughts immediately pulled back to the video you’d sent her.

“Your girlfriend?”

Larissa’s head snapped up to look at Marilyn, her eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. She had never spoken to any of her colleagues about her relationship - having it mentioned so openly and casually felt a bit jarring, and she felt her heart skip a beat. “Pardon?”

“The woman at Mayor Walker’s funeral? I just assumed…”

The principal felt her cheeks turn pink and she found herself nodding. “Yes, we’re together.”

Marilyn smirked as she began walking towards the door, with Larissa trailing behind her. “She’s cute.”

Larissa felt a smile creep up on her face even as her cheeks burned. Though she was unwilling to discuss her relationship further with a member of her staff, she nodded in acknowledgment as she leaned past Marilyn to open the door for her. “Thank you, Ms. Thornhill. I’ll have the paperwork processed this afternoon, you can tell Enid her request has been approved.”

Marilyn thanked Larissa and left, making her way down the hall. Larissa waited until she had rounded the corner before closing and locking the door, taking quick strides back to her desk and perching on the edge as she dialed your number.

“Darling,” she breathed out, sounding more out of breath than she’d hoped.

“Yeah?” You sounded like you were holding back laughter - it was honestly adorable to Larissa, and she found her cheeks growing redder still.

“You’re gorgeous,” she found herself whispering into the phone, her mind filled with the vivid image of you peeling your panties away from your cunt and fingering yourself. Her own clit was still throbbing with need. “You’ve really gotten me quite turned on, you know.”

“Are you going to do something about that?” 

Larissa could hear the smirk in your voice as you replied, and it turned her on further - but all she could do was groan in response as her gaze fell to the clock on the wall.

“Dr. Kinbott will be here soon, I’m afraid…”

“Oh, sorry,” you replied, not sounding very sorry at all - Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I should punish you for this,” she whispered back, her voice low and gravelly as various scenarios flashed through her mind - tying you up, edging you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm and leaving you begging her to fuck you.

“You know you keep saying that, but I’m starting to think it’s an empty promise.” The playful, almost taunting edge to your voice had Larissa’s knuckles turning white around her phone as her stomach began to flutter with butterflies.

“Well then I’ll have to make good on that promise soon, won’t I?” Larissa suggested, able to keep her voice much firmer and more seductive now. “I am a woman of my word, after all.”

“Are you free this weekend?”

Larissa smirked at your eagerness. “I’m all yours.”

~~~

The following day you found yourself packing a bag and rushing through the rain with your hood up, eager to get to your car and turn the heat on. The plan was to head to Jericho first and stop by the Weathervane to pick up some hot chocolate for Larissa, before making your way to Nevermore. You turned up the heat as well as the radio and started the drive through the dense, dark woods separating Burlington from Jericho.

Nearing the small town, the rain began to pick up, a light fog rolling in as the sky opened up. The rain was so heavy that you could barely see the road two feet in front of your car - you had no choice but to pull over to the shoulder of the road to wait out the worst of it.

The downpour pummeled the hood of your car and you leaned back in your seat, taking out your phone and texting Larissa that you’d be over a little later than planned, before idly scrolling through the photos on your phone.

As the minutes went by, you began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach - glancing up at the road, the rain was beginning to ease off, though not considerably, and you looked back down at your phone. The uneasy feeling continued, nagging and gnawing at your insides. It almost felt like you were being watched, and a shiver ran down your spine at the thought - you gripped your phone a little tighter, biting your lip as you prayed that the rain would lighten up enough for you to keep driving soon. Dimly, in the recesses of your mind, you realized no other cars had passed you on this road for at least 20 minutes, but you quickly shook your head, not wanting to allow your thoughts to travel down a dark road. A shadow fell across the passenger seat - taking it for a trick of the eye, something to do with the falling rain outside the window, you shrugged it off. Until it happened again, lingering longer this time. You glanced out the window and your heart felt as though it had skipped about 5 beats, your stomach dropping with the realization that someone - no, something - was looking back at you.

x

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

[valenfangs]

Valenfangs is very happy to announce . . . VamPride!

transcript and prompts under the cut

We are inviting any fans of the Vampire Chronicles and its derivative works (books, show, movie, that other movie, play – and every colour in between) to have some fun with us in June as we celebrate pride!

Show your colours through a variety of mediums - fics, art, moodboards, playlists, headcanons, edits, cosplays, we want to see it all!

Fill as many prompts or as little as you like! You have three prompts per day, and you can use just one as inspiration or combine multiple prompts into one work

This is a month of celebration and we want to celebrate everything you do! Make sure to tag us @valenfangs so we and all our followers don’t miss your awesome contributions

We're here for you! If you have any questions, our ask box is open!

PROMPTS:

1 - San Francisco // gay bar // sunshine

2 - beach // ice cream // tough love

3 - drag queen/king // butterflies // asexual

4 - rose garden // Roaring 20s // threesome

5 - rule 63 // art museum // haircut

6 - Omegaverse // sunglasses // stuffed animals

7 - Renaissance // blood-red lipstick // crushed velvet

8 - Greek mythology // handwritten letters // grey hair

9 - glitter // lollipop // ghosts

10 - free day

11 - coffee and cigarettes // impact play // musical theatre

12 - butch/femme // bondage // leather

13 - rainstorm // dom/sub drop // Shakespeare

14 - pirate AU // worn-out sneakers // candlelight

15 - free day

16 - tattoos and piercings // fishnet // hair dye

17 - Old Hollywood // hoop earrings // Hawaiian shirt

18 - high school/college AU // pet play // pearls

19 - gloves // labyrinth/maze // love triangle

20 - free day

21 - apples and pears // stained glass windows // double penetration

22 - burger and fries // Coca Cola in a glass bottle // antique shop

23 - tiara // driving lessons // reality TV

24 - silk pajamas // acrylic nails // enemies to lovers

25 - costume party // black nail polish // waterfall

26 - pencil skirt // smoothie // blind date

27 - murder mystery // slumber party // high-heeled boots

28 - black cat/golden retriever // ballet // sex shop

29 - the zoo // Oscar Wilde // reading glasses

30 - pride parade // daddy/mommy kink // brat

#vc #iwtv #tvc #vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles #interview with the vampire #iwtv amc #amc iwtv #anne rice #armand #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #daniel molloy #marius de romanus #bianca solderini #pandora #iwtv 1994 #lestat the musical #queen of the damned #qotd

[momowritings]

Lipstick Fist

Pairing: Nanami x Black Reader (Mafia AU!)

Rating: 19+ MDNI

Word ct: 7k

tags: violence (not towards reader), nanami just wants to be with his wife, pet names (darling, sweetheart, etc), blood kink, fingering, blow job, vaginal sex, mating press... hmm I think that's it

Preview: You looked up at his face once again and Nanami also noticed the stain, bringing his hand up to wipe the bloody rivulet off from under his nose but you stopped him from doing that by leaning down for a kiss. You quickly moved your lips against his, taking his top lip in between yours and the metallic taste of iron filled your mouth....

Song inspo: you've seen the butcher- deftones

~~~

There’s only a few things that Kento Nanami truly hated. Traffic, soggy bread, and idiots to name some. Traffic and soggy bread are usually the products of stupidity and carelessness, so idiots are actually on the top of his shitlist. So many things could’ve been avoided if somebody, anybody, would’ve just taken the time to think. But that would be asking for too much. He never wanted to be the voice of reason in most situations. He’d rather not talk at all.

Except when it came to you. The light of his life, the apple of his eye, his slice of heaven with soft serve ice cream on top. He could be completely honest to you, almost childishly complaining about the idiots in the world and you are the one true person on his side, even if he’s being a little dramatic. If only he could hole away with you forever and leave all of his troubles behind. Just the thought of doing that made his shoulders lighter, but there was always more work to be done. 

And today there seems to be a never ending flow of work for him. He checked his watch and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was supposed to already be on his way home to you by now. 

And you knew that. You had spent the day running errands, but when you called Nanami earlier he still told you that he was still caught up and that you might have to eat dinner without him. You could hear the fatigue in his voice and frowned at the thought. You had finished your own errands for the day and opted to try out a new bakery along with some last minute grocery items. It didn’t feel right heading straight home while you knew that Nanami was only twenty minutes away from your location, and Gojo, the closest person your husband has to a best friend, was texting you like he wasn’t busy at all. 

Against your better judgment you rerouted the driver to the bar where you were going to patiently wait for your husband to finish his duties and come to meet you until you saw a familiar head of white hair sauntering into a building. 

“Stop the car, please. I’ll be good from here,” you told the driver and their face paled. 

“Ma’am we should really—“

“I’ll be just fine. You know Gojo, right? Don’t let me tell him that you’re doubting his abilities,” you said, already out of the car and deciding to take the box from the bakery with you. “Just stand on by. If anything happens, scoop me up.” You gave one last smile to the driver and shut the far, the dark tinted windows blocking out their face. You whipped around in search of Gojo and were surprised to see him so close behind you already. You could’ve sworn he was already inside the building. 

“What are you doing on this side of town?”

“I wanted to see Kento. Surprise him with some food,” you said fondly and held up the box.

“He’s not here,” Gojo said coolly. His rounded sunglasses did little to block out the intensity of his eyes that peeled through. They glowed almost neon in the sunlight. 

“Gojo, don’t play with me.” Your smile dropped immediately and you walked past him to enter the building. 

“No need to get all spikey. I was obviously joking. Are any of those for me?” He was referring to the takeout box in your hand and you gave him a dry “no.”

“You’re just like Nanamin. No wonder you’re married to him.”

The sentence made you warm inside, a smirk growing on your face. Your footsteps echoed in the warehouse, walking through the garage entrance still in search of your lover. You stuck to the walls and shadows, not wanting to disturb anybody.

“Where is he?” You called out behind you to Gojo. 

“Why should I tell you? It’s not like you’re ever nice to me.” Gojo crossed his arms over his chest and you rolled your eyes. The fact that he wore black jeans and t-shirt made him illuminate even more outside of the sun. His glasses pushed his hair up and out of his face now, a faux pout decorating it while you scanned the area. 

From outside you could hear a car engine rumble and pull-up to the garage opening and Gojo was by your side immediately, like he teleported next to you. 

“Who’s that?” You whispered when he pulled you away deeper into the shadows. You knew it was for your sake rather than his own, as Gojo wouldn’t hide from anyone. 

“Probably somebody I pissed off. Maybe. I can’t keep track anymore.”

Three men clambered out of the car. The two younger ones in the back statues behind the taller, more imposing man in the front. His frame filled his clothing, his blue jeans and leather jacket nearly bursting at the seams. From the far corner of the room you saw your husband emerge from a door, his eyebrows pinched together in annoyance when he saw the visitor. 

“Gojo aren’t you going to help him?” 

It’s not that you didn’t think Nanami couldn’t handle whatever this was about to be. You never doubted your husband’s abilities, but the other man had death flaming behind his eyes and it was hard to watch Nanami on the other side of that gaze. He took heavy steps towards Nanami, each footfall flooding your heart with dread. You wanted to call out to him but decided against it when you felt Gojo’s touch.

“He doesn’t need help. I think he’d beat my ass if I stepped in,” Gojo chuckled, holding your shoulders and gently pulling you back. You clutched the desert that you had brought with you and sighed. Gojo was right, there was nothing you could do to help him. You would only get in his way and that is not something that you wanted to do. It was already enough that you arrived unannounced. 

“I was told that there’s a blond with four eyes working here. You’re the one who sent my men away?” 

Nanami sighs and takes a glance to the left of him, then the right of him and then looks back at the burly man. He’s not that much different in height, just a few inches taller the closer he walked up to Nanami and had his hair slicked back in a greasy curtain. 

“Do you see any other blond four eyes?” 

Nanami could see the anger building up in the other man, his jaw getting tighter and his fingers twitching at his sides. “You can’t just fuck me over like that. We had a deal ,” he seethed through clenched teeth. 

“Yes. We had a deal, and now we don’t. Last time I checked, you brought the shipment an hour late. Do you know how long an hour is? What I could've done with that time?” Nanami was especially pissed because it had kept him from getting back home to you sooner. He absolutely despised when his time with you got cut short. It took everything in him to not say “fuck it” and be as reckless and uncaring as everybody else is but he has standards he holds himself to. 

“You still got it. I’m sure you found them useful.”

Nanami gave a dull stare to the other side of the warehouse clearing where whatever shipment of something you were in the dark about sat. The other man sputtered up, his face growing redder by the second and he began to shout. Nanami took off his glasses and produced a lens wipe from his back pocket. Gojo was giggling beside you, shaking his head at the encounter but you could only watch them intently. The only time you drew your eyes away from them was when you felt movement in your hands, only to find out that Gojo was trying to open the box from the bakery you had brought for your husband. You swatted his hand away from poking at it. 

“Oh come on! You always bring him something and never me!”

“We’re not married, Satoru.”

“So what, you have to be married to be nice now? I’ve always made sure that Kento is safe and sound when you’re not around,” he pouted. 

“Oh really? And what's going on over there?”

“That,” he pointed, snagging a muffin out of the box you finally opened for him. He read the cover of it, mentally filing away the name “Love Bites” for later. “Is a person making the biggest mistake of their life. I’m surprised Nanami’s even entertaining them,” he said with a full mouth. You jumped and closed the box when you saw the other man start to get rowdy and suddenly had a pointed gun at Nanami. 

You gasped, your heart paralyzed but Nanami stayed as calm and collected as ever. The henchmen that the other man brought with him started to laugh amongst themselves, and Gojo, who still remained by your side, took another bite of his muffin. 

“What to do Nanamin, what to do,” he muttered. 

Nanami looked past the barrel and straight ahead. “If you kill me now what happens? We still won’t need you, and you start a war. How does that help you at all?” 

“I’ll start with your ass, then the bitch standing over there like a lost puppy and the white haired freak next to her. I can worry about the rest later.” 

Nanami paused for only a second. He didn’t know that you were here, but knowing that Gojo was with you made him a little less worried. Nanami still had no idea why you decided to come, and the fact that this man had the audacity to bring you into it made him snap, whether he actually knew who you were or not. 

“It looks like I touched a nerve,” he smirked when Nanami was still unmoving, shifting his gun and body from Nanami to where you were standing with Gojo but was no longer there. Gojo had hurried you up the stairs to the upper level of the warehouse as soon as he had finished his muffin because he had the suspicion that you would become an interest to the newcomer. The man’s smile faltered when he no longer saw you, and now that you were out of harm's way, Nanami removed his tie. You had an overhead view of Nanami from the balcony. You watched him wrap his yellow and brown spotted tie around his knuckles, slowly and deliberately, and walked surely towards the other man. 

“Where the fuck did she–”

But he never got to finish the question because Nanami’s fist collided with his jaw. It was a sickening sound, like a wrecking ball smacking a brick wall. It was a hard enough impact that you winced and touched your own face. Satoru let out a huff of laughter, his eyes bright like he was watching a movie. The man staggered back, stunned by the hit so powerful the gun he held fell out of his hand and skidded on the floor. Before he could find his footing Nanami striked again, aiming for the center in his stomach and the other man was wheezing, walking away to stretch the space between him and Nanami, but there was no going back now. Nanami had one goal in mind that could not be stopped until it was achieved, and that was to have this man regret ever questioning him in the first place.

“Five minutes,” Gojo said, leaning close to your ear but his eyes were still glued to the fight. 

“What?”

“I bet Nanami’s gonna lay slickback’s ass out in five minutes. Probably even less.” 

Your gaze trailed back to Nanami and he had the other man's shirt crumpled in his hand and his voice was gravely deep. 

“Tell me the real reason why you’re here. There has to be a better reason than this.” 

“You all think you’re such hot shit but you guys need me. Nobody else will even—“

“I don’t need you,” Nanami growled. 

The dark haired man sneered, spitting in Nanami’s face and his mouth was full of blood as he spoke. “She means something to you, doesn’t she? I should’ve used her to make something shake a long time ago.”

He took Nanami by surprise and smashed his head into his face. You took a step closer but Gojo held you back, his hand heavy on your shoulder. You didn’t even notice that you were so close to the balcony already. Nanami’s teeth bared themselves when his knee came up to crush the man’s stomach, then when he was hunched over Nanami delivered a sharp hook to the side of his face. The other man dropped to his knees and waved his arms around, his senses lagging behind and he couldn’t tell when or where Nanami was going to hit him next. 

You watched Nanami’s powerful arms strike the man with dangerous precision, aiming for weak spots and the sound of awful thumping echoing in the warehouse. The henchmen that had accompanied him stood in horror as they watched their boss turn into a human punching bag. The man on the floor was still fighting, trying to get a grip on Nanami and failing miserably because his arms were never quick nor strong enough to stop the next blow coming down on his body. Blood splattered on Nanami’s face and clothes yet he didn’t stop until the man below him was motionless. 

Gojo finally clapped his hands together, walked towards the edge of the balcony, then cupped his hands around his mouth to call Nanami. 

“Look at the mess you're making, Nanamin. I’m the one who usually overdoes it,” he teased. Nanami slowly looked up to Gojo, his breathing finally slowing down. The anger that allowed him to beat someone to a pulp was still etched in his face, wrinkles pronounced and with his lips set in a hard line, and it shot electricity down your spine. He caught a glance of you, looking down at him like an angel of sorts and his gaze softened. You wore a shale pink wrap dress, your hair piled high on top of your head and eyes as wide as an owl’s. He really wished you hadn’t been there but it was comforting to know that you didn’t run for the hills at his outburst. You were still there, shock evident in your face and an undercurrent of something else he couldn’t quite place, but concern was clearly the heavier emotion. Above all you were worried about him . 

Nanami felt something brush his ankle and peered down at his feet. A weak hand clawed at him, making Nanami raise a brow. “You can still move? Let’s fix that.” 

“Boss?” One of the henchmen called out, terrified for their leader yet hope was laced in their voice, like he could possibly turn this around. Nanami didn’t like the sound of that at all. He shoved the other man in his side with his feet until he flipped over on his stomach facing the two guests. 

More blood sputtered out of his lips when he tried to crawl away as Nanami watched him impassively. When he failed for the third time Nanami pressed one foot in the middle of his shoulder blades, forcing him back down and he protested against it. 

“Since neither of you tried to intervene, I’m assuming he told you not to. Or maybe he was going to use this as a learning lesson,” he said, reaching down to pull at his arms. “And I do hope that you learn something from this.” Nanami eased his foot off of his body so that his chest was suspended off the floor by his arms only. The warehouse was deathly quiet before Gojo spoke. 

“He’s really taking a page out of my book,” Gojo gasped. His hands pressed over your ears and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene. His hands did nothing to muffle the howling that ensued, the acoustic building amplifying the pleas for mercy and screams, making your teeth ache. Your husband was pushing his foot back down, pulling the arms in and up until his shoulders no longer held them in place and they were rendered useless. 

“You can always be replaced in this business,” he said to them when the wails subsided. 

“Except for you, Nanamin! I love you too much to let you go,” Gojo shouted, then dropped his hands from your ears.

Nanami rolled his eyes then watched the two younger men retreat back to their car, the tires screeching as they ran away. 

“I know you’re rolling your eyes but I mean it!” 

The man beneath Nanami made a gurgling noise and Nanami squatted down next to him and grabbed the strands of hair on his head into a ponytail, lifting up his face. It’s swollen, bloodied and unrecognizable from the hothead who came in early. More blood and drool dripped down onto the floor and Nanami gave his head a harsh tug for him to listen. 

“I want you to remember this. In your very last moments, the men who you thought swore their loyalties to you, the ones who you’ve been working with for decades upon decades, all ran away like rats and left you here to rot. You will die forgotten, and I think that’s quite fitting since I just can’t bother to remember your name.” 

He released his hair and his face fell back into the concrete once again. 

“Aren’t you afraid they might come back?” You asked Gojo as you rushed down the stairs to meet Nanami. 

“Pfft, no,” Gojo snorted. “We’re at the top. Like Ken said, let this be a lesson to all of them.” 

It’s a very different sentiment from the Nanami you knew intimately. He never ran out of patience with you; he had endless pools of it. When you reached ground level you practically threw yourself in his arms. He caught you with ease, cupping the back of your head into his chest. Under the heavy smell of blood his familiar scent filled your nose and you took deep breaths of it to calm down. You didn’t realize how fast your heart was thumping until you felt it against Nanami’s ribs. 

“Me next!” Gojo opened his arms and hugged the both of you, making you giggle. “You really do pay attention to everything I do, Ken. Is that why I dreamed of you last night?”

“What are you dreaming about with my husband?”

“Absolutely nothi–” 

“I don’t want to make you jealous,” Gojo interrupted, nuzzling his chin into the top of your head and Nanami swatted him away. “I’ll have somebody clean up the mess.” 

“Good,” Nanami muttered. When Gojo released the two of you, you fretted over Nanami’s hands. His knuckles that were covered with the tie were less raw than the one without, but they were both an angry shade of red. 

“God, Ken, I just came so that we can enjoy this new bakery I found on the way back home and then this happens,” you frowned. 

Nanami gave a small smile and kissed the top of your head. “I’m fine.” 

“That’s what you always say! That’s why I have to worry for the both of us.”

Gojo tutted in agreement. “Go to the bar and check to see if Shoko’s there. It’s technically after hours but she might be lingering around. And you look like you need a drink anyways.” 

Nanami nodded and his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move, walking with you to the car that was prepared for the short drive. You winked at the driver once you sat down inside, then tucked yourself right next to Nanami. 

When you arrived at the bar, Choso notified you that you had just missed Shoko and you sighed. He saw the weariness in your eyes led you to a room down a hallway in the back. 

“I’ll come back with a drink for Nanami. I’m assuming you’d want something strong, right?”

“Yes, thank you,” Nanami sighed, putting his jacket down on the chair near the bed. It was a sparse room with a queen sized bed, two nightstands, and a small clothed chair. A closed door in the corner that you assumed was the closet next to an open door that led to a bathroom and no windows could be found. When Choso started speaking again you turned to face him. 

“Anything for you?” Choso asked you and you shook your head. 

“No, no drinks for me.” 

“I’ll be back soon,” he nodded and you rubbed his shoulder appreciatively. He closed the door behind him and you locked it when he let go of the handle. 

You rested your back against the door and looked at Nanami who was sitting at the edge of the bed. 

“Come here,” he mumbled , and you pushed yourself off to walk into his open arms. They wrapped around you tightly and you combed his hair back. You didn’t say anything to him. You didn’t need to. Nanami did this all the time, silently recharging himself through physical touch and you were happy to help. You gently massaged his scalp with your fingernails until you heard soft rapping on the door again. Nanami grumbled something that you didn’t catch fully but you couldn’t help laughing. 

“You did ask for a drink,” you reminded, and sure enough when you opened the door Choso had an amber drink in a crystal glass ready for you on a platter. He also brought a whole bottle for Nanami. 

“Thanks Choso,” you smiled, and he gave you a small nod.

“Stay as long as you need,” he told you, then waved at Nanami who returned the gesture after he removed his dress shirt.

You locked the door for the last time, putting the drinks on the side table and going to the bathroom to get a washcloth for cleaning. When you stood in front of him again, his legs bracketing around yours, you started to wipe away the hand that he wasn’t using to down his drink. His knuckles weren’t as bad as you had initially thought as you cleaned them. The dried blood proved to be the other man's, the clearer Nanami’s skin became. There was only slight redness from irritation. You kissed the knuckles you cleaned individually.

The fight from earlier replayed in your head, making you slow down. His show of precision, his power, his steadiness were all insanely attractive and you felt yourself suddenly getting shy. Nanami felt the change too and asked what was wrong. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” you let out a breathy chuckle heavy with arousal and patted his shoulders. His hand rested on your waist, gently trying to calm you down and he looked up at you adoringly. 

“What makes you say that?”

You stared at his open collarbone, the pale skin underneath rising and falling with each breath he took, trying to keep your breath steady but failed when you looked into his eyes. If you had to choose a favorite feature of Nanami’s face, you would always choose his eyes. They were the warmest shade of brown that you have ever known, just deep pools of unyielding love for you and everything you have ever done. Right now they were slightly pained, not because of the fight that happened but because he wanted to know what’s on your mind and you were stalling. He was afraid that he might’ve scared you earlier. He hated to lose his temper in front of the only person he swore to never raise his voice at. Even though his anger wasn’t directed towards you at all it still bothered him. 

You, on the other hand, had a completely different concern, one that was caused from the heat pooling lower in your nether regions. You trailed your gaze down further, inspecting his nose that you remembered got bashed. Nanami was complacent, moving like putty in your hands and craned his neck in any position you needed. There was no swelling or bruising forming, which you were grateful for. You got to admire him quietly in the process and a ghost of a smile danced on your lips. Your husband was so damn beautiful.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he muttered. 

“No,” you agreed. “It probably isn’t. We’ll have Shoko look at it later though. Just in case.”

“He truly took me by surprise.” 

“I know, baby, I know. I’m just glad he can no longer hurt you” you crooned. You must have had his head leaning down for too long, or pressed him too hard, as a drop of blood dripped from his nose to the undershirt. The scarlet stain looked neon against the white fabric and it was the only blood mark on his clothes that was his. The rest of the splatter was from the bastard who found the wrong person to annoy on the right day. You looked up at his face once again and Nanami also noticed the stain, bringing his hand up to wipe the rivulet off from under his nose but you stopped him from doing that by leaning down for a kiss. You quickly moved your lips against his, taking his top lip in between yours and the metallic taste of iron filled your mouth. Nanami moaned quietly, taken by surprise by your action but tightened his hold on your hip to steady you, his other hand propping himself up behind him as you leaned in further, getting more of your fill and pushing him into the bed. 

You straddle your legs around his waist, clutching his collar and running your tongue in his mouth. Your head was getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. When you finally came up to breathe you pulled back, groaning at the sight of Nanami even more disheveled and his blood smeared over his top lip. You finally remembered yourself, then grabbed the towel that had fallen into the sheet and finally wiped it off of his face. 

“I’m sorry. I just… like I said, I think there’s something wrong with me. I was worried about you the whole time, of course I was, but more than anything else I wanted to drag you into bed. You should be resting,” you rushed out, shame creeping up your neck. You began to crawl off of Nanami, one leg already on the floor but he stopped your departure and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“You got me right where you wanted me and now you’re leaving? You’re always such a tease,” he muttered inside your wrist and you were sure that he could taste your heartbeat pounding beneath the skin. 

Your voice stuck to your throat when you tried to speak out. “Ken…”

“Mmm, don’t “Ken” me,” he smiled. His fingertips danced up your thigh, slipping underneath your dress and hiking it farther up. He brushed your dampening crotch and your breath hitched. 

“You’re the one who likes to see me bloody and breathing heavy, right?”

“It’s not a bad look,” you squeaked. His hand pushed past your waistband and circled your clit until you grasped the back of his hair. Nanami’s hands were going to drive you out of your own mind and he knew it.

“And what else did you like?” He gathered the wetness from your entrance, rubbing your clit more intently. You were soaking and only getting wetter. He didn’t tease you so much that you could not answer but it would not be without stuttering. You looked down at him, his face smushed to your chest with those pretty brown eyes of his blinking at you, waiting for your response. 

“You know I’ve always been a fan of your ha -hands.”

Such strong yet gentle hands. Big enough to cover large portions of your body but always delicate towards you. His hands were perfect. 

He smirked at you, now using two fingers to fuck you. They stroked and curled in the spongey spot deep inside and you started to grind your hips into his hand, unable to help yourself.  “Yes, I think I’m aware.” 

“And your voice, baby. You only yelled at him once but I heard you the entire time,” you panted.

“But you know that I would never do that to you? I would never act like that to you.” His eyebrows were scrunched up at you, begging for you to understand and his face was your undoing. His fingers never stopped moving, curling inside to stroke you just right. 

“I know, Kento. It’s just the fact that you can do that. N-not to me but– fuck, faster please. Just a little more.” You raised his chin up to mesh your lips on his, whimpering into the kiss as he gave you exactly what you wanted. His fingers quickly drew out an orgasm from you, one that released only some of the tension that had been building up in you for the past hour. Your pussy drenched his fingers with your release and you hid your face in Nanami’s shoulder. Kento eased more tremors out of your body and your teeth sunk into his shoulder. He wished you didn’t always try to hide your face when you came. He knew that now it was because you two weren’t in the comfort of your own home and wanted to be quiet, but Nanami loved to see your mouth pop open and a watch a silent scream fall out, or his personal favorite, when you murmured his name over and over again like it was the only word in the world, pleading and thanking him all at once, but that meant that he would have to keep going until he got the reaction that he wanted. 

Nanami removed his hand and sucked them clean while you caught your breath. You watched him from the corner of your eyes as you rested on his shoulder and gave a breathless giggle. 

“You made me come and I didn’t even take off my clothes.” 

You lifted your head off and peered at your husband. 

“I can still make you come without your clothes. I actually plan on doing that multiple times.” 

You stood up and walked slowly away from him, pulling at the knot on your dress and hummed. “Kento, I want to do you first. I've wanted to jump your bones since we got in the car.” Your dress unraveled and Nanami’s cock strained in his pants. A sheer balconette bra welcomed him, along with matching sheer panties that matched the color of your dress. The swell of your breasts and nipples were apparent through the bra, poking through the fabric and his jaw twitched. He didn’t know if he wanted to tear clothes off of your body or fuck you in the set. You obviously took the time to get dressed for him, your eyes searching for response as you did a slow turn. You let the dress hang off your arms when your back was faced to him, then reveal the curves of your body when you dropped it on the floor. 

Nanami took a dry swallow.

A sly smile formed on your lips when you walked back to him. While placing your hands on his thighs, you locked eyes with your husband and slowly sank to your knees, your gaze unwavering when you started to undo his belt. 

You could see how hard he was through his pants and it made your sex pulse. Once you finally freed him from his constraints, you palmed him slowly and placed a sultry kiss on the head of his cock. Nanami widened his legs for you to nestle in between, then placed his hand on your face, stroking the apple of your cheek softly. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned. “Are you sure your knees aren’t hurting?” He asked but he already fixed a pillow for you to stand on. Once you repositioned yourself, you decorated his cock with more kisses on the way to the base, then flattened your tongue heavy with saliva, taking a slow, long stripe up to the head and swallowed as much as you could. It was no easy feat. If you were to ask Nanami he would tell you that he is an average size, nothing special, but your jaw ached from taking him in. 

Nanami thrusted his hips shallowly into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue making it hard for him to restrain himself, and you matched his rhythm. The rest of him that couldn’t fit in your mouth was covered by your fingers, wrapping around the shaft and twisting it with your spit. When he reached the back of your throat you moaned around him, the vibrations making him throw his head back. His chest heaved rapidly when he looked back down at you, his eyes full of lust and desire. 

“You let me do anything to this pretty mouth of yours,” he rasped. Your mouth made a crisp pop when you took your lips off of him, and his thumb immediately went to outline your lips, glossy with his precum and your saliva. You teased the slit of his cock with your own thumb, clenching your legs together at the sharp hissing sounds he made. 

“You never do anything I’d say no to,” you said, putting him back in your mouth and he cursed under his breath. Even with the orgasm you had a few minutes ago the heat was building up inside of you again. Your panties were soaked, you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. Like everything else on your body, your mouth was sensitive, and the noises Nanami was making only spurred you on. 

“I’m going to come,” Nanami said as a warning. His jaw was tight, rolling over when you batted your lashes up at him and continued to take him further down your throat. The heat of your mouth and your tongue moving against him brought him closer to the peak. It was clear that you had no intentions of letting him go early, so when he felt like he was finally nearing the end he begged you to look at him. 

“Gorgeous,” he murmured. “You take me so well.”

To avoid letting him see the blood rushing to your face, you attempted to brush your nose to his happy trail, taking him as far as you could. He came with soft moans escaping his mouth and his thighs jerked up slightly. You rubbed them down, looking back up at him to see his eyes washed with pleasure. With a stare dunk in lust, he dragged you up and on top of him again, slowly maneuvering into the center of the bed while his lips overtook yours. It was a sloppy kiss, and he could taste himself on your tongue but there was still the taste of you so he wanted more. You reached down below, rubbing his cock head on your clit after moving your panties to the side. Neither of you could be bothered to take them off properly and he bit your bottom lip in response. 

“I think I want to hear you beg,” you murmured along his jaw. “You’ve been awfully calm this whole time and it’s not fair.” 

Nanami let out a strained noise. “We have very different understandings of what ‘calm’ is.”

He thought that he was barely holding it together. His hands feverishly ran over your body, starting with your breasts, then the back of your thighs before gripping your ass. You continued to tease him, only allowing the tip to enter before taking it out repeatedly. Labored breaths made his chest heave and he looked up at you with those beautiful eyes again. 

“Please, honey. You said you wanted to have me since getting in the car right?”

Your hand cupped the base of his neck, squeezing slightly and you nodded. 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“There’s no need to wait anymore.” 

He planted a kiss right in the middle of your chest. His hands were now on your waist, warming up your sides. 

“I want to feel you. I’m all yours now so fuck me.” 

The end of his sentence had curled into a growl. It was more of a demand than a plea. His hands were back on your hips, not so subtly trying to get you to sit down. The edge of his teeth wrapped around your nipple and you settled down on the base of his shaft. You both moaned when he bottomed out. 

Nanami tugged on your nipple before lapping it with his tongue. He was deep seated in your warmth but trying to be mindful before taking over. You were adjusting to him, grinding softly on him to stretch yourself out. 

“You were made for me, Kento,” you groaned. You opened your eyes that were previously squeezed shut and rolled your hips into his. Nanami unlatched his mouth from his nipple and looked up at you in awe. Yes he was made for you. He was yours to use and wasn’t afraid to let you know that. Your eyes screwed shut again when you slowly lifted up to come back down on him, his length scraping your insides.

“All for you. I need you to look at me,” he begged. You came down on him harder, the sounds of your coupling filling the room, and the bed began to groan wearily underneath. You picked up the speed and opened your eyes per his request. His were wide and unwavering, watching you closely to match your rhythm, and his skin was warm with blush. His fingernails dug into and bit the plush of your hips. You leaned in to touch your forehead on his, gazing deep at your husband, sharing his breaths. With the hand that wasn’t on his neck you combed it up the back of his nape and tugged his hair down, tipping his face up and ghosted your lips over his mouth. 

“Fuck me harder,” you dragged out. “Make me cum.” 

The burn in your thighs were proof of your hard work but you needed more of him. Pressing chest to chest and lips to lips was not enough. Nanami’s thumb reached the slippery mess where you were joined to him to circle your clit and he swallowed the moans that ensued. He pistoned up into your pussy, responding to your order. His teeth grazed on any open skin to him. Nanami felt the sex drunkenness seep into his veins. It filled his head with only you, the best way to get you to curl and stretch with pleasure. You only urged him along, nipping the lobes of his ear to mutter more obscenities that made his body crave you. 

“Just like that Kento. I’m almost right there, can you feel it? I want you to fuck me good, Kenny. I want you dripping out of me. Can you do that for me, baby? Harder , Kento, I need— fuck. ”

You knew the reaction you were looking for with your words. It did not surprise you when your back was on the bedding and you were pressed into the mattress. Everything was white hot. You clawed him closer, but being ever the gentleman, Nanami slipped out of you and with a desperate whimper you felt the cool air slip between your bodies. Grabbing another pillow he adjusted some below you in a quick manner and his hands returned to your waist. 

His gaze on you kept your body sizzling, his cock head parting the seam of your sex and a shudder ran through you. Your pussy clenched around nothing, aching. 

“ Please ,” you whined. You raised your hips up to usher him inside and he did, welcoming your warmth and sighing into it. Tilting your head up for a kiss, your tongue ran in his mouth and you tried to clasp your legs around him. You were unable to as he started to pick up speed, fucking you deep until he reached the end of you, his pelvis brushing your clit and causing moans to tumble into his mouth. 

“So soft,” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your hands and bringing it to the top of your head on the pillow. “You remind me how to be soft.” 

“Kento,” you moaned. With your hands pinned above your head you felt more exposed, even though his body covered yours entirely. You could feel every muscle of his ripple above you. He never sacrificed speed over power, driving you out of your mind. 

The noises you were making in his ear, your tongue tasting his skin, the way that you dragged him in deeper, begging for him to stay inside and fill you up made his need for you from a scorching flames threatening to engulf you both. 

In a strangled moan he fucked you harder. The bed creaked dangerously, the headboard banging on the wall and all previous cautions of keeping quiet were forgotten. Nanami released your hands, instead cupping his palms to the back of your knees and flattened you into the bed. With every thrust he lost a little bit of himself in you, giving himself to you just like you asked, kissing you so hard your lips bruised and your head spun. It was like he was trying to apologize for his nature and you couldn’t get it through to him that you didn’t care. There was nothing that Nanami could do that would ever push you away from him, so you tried to show him the depths of your love in any way you could.

“I want us to come together,” he said, his own voice betraying him by cracking at the end. You opened your tear stained eyes, holding your husband’s gaze. 

Your eyebrows pinched together and you tried to follow his request but it was hard when he was so deep inside of you, causing all your muscles to pull taut like a wire. 

“Kento,” you murmured, your vision getting wavy around your peripheral but his eyes remained as clear as ever. You didn’t need to say anything more than that. He understood that you were reaching your limit and he could barely hold on himself. 

“Kento,” you said again, and a faint smile danced on his lips. It was happening, the favorite part of sex with you. Your eyes gazed down to where you two were joined, watching him disappear inside of you and another strangled approximation of his name left your mouth again. The spring in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, getting ready to burst as Kento changed to languid strokes that unraveled you perfectly. Time slowed down and every touch and sound the both of you were making was magnified tenfold. 

You didn’t even realize when you had shattered once again. It happened so quickly, like lightning striking down on you but the aftershocks lingered. Your face was wet with tears and his lips were quick to catch them as he came down his own high. 

You heard a voice, a tired and hoarse one you quickly realized that was your own, still repeating the syllables that made up his name. Kento held himself over you, trying to catch his breath. He gently unfolded your body, taking note of any sounds you made that might indicate pain. 

“Don’t go,” you grumbled. You could feel the mess you both made in the sheets. The slight movements Kento made still inside of you only pushed out his come. 

“I need to clean you up. We need to do something about the bed too.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

Nanami stamped a kiss on your forehead, then two, then three. 

“I’m positive that we made enough noise for Choso to hear.” 

“You’re the worst. Just horrid.”

You could hear him grinning while you covered your face in your hands. Nanami carefully pried your hands apart. Another kiss between your eyebrows was placed. 

“I was made just for you so that makes two of us,” he laughed. The embarrassment still burned your face yet you couldn’t help but to laugh with him. 

“I love that sound,” he said fondly. Nanami’s nose rubbed against yours and your laughter fizzled into nervous giggles. “I love you.”

You cupped his face, his ears slotting between your fingers and traced his bottom lip with your top lip. 

“I love you,” you breathed.

Nanami never left between your legs, partly because you told him not to, partly because he didn’t want to just yet. Whatever the reason was, you could feel him hardening again inside, immediately reciprocating your mounting arousal. 

You took his mouth, deepening it as soon as he welcomed your tongue. With the strength you had left in your body you pulled him down on top of your, welcoming the heavy pressure. You drifted further into the bed, showing your love to each other over and over again.

#minimoe #momowritings #black fem reader #x black reader #heavy smut #nanami is a wife guy #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jjk fanfic #mafia au

[jaetaimjadore]

EVERYDAY VIGNETTES THAT REMIND ME OF ENHYPEN

Pairing: enhypen x reader

Genre: fluff with a touch of angst

Warnings: some suggestive themes, mentions of sexual tension (nothing explicit whatsoever), mentions of food and alcohol, please let me know if i've missed anything else :)

Word count: 1.08k

a/n: this is just a compilation of the silly little musings running through my head that i just so happen to associate with each enha member, so, really, i thought why not share it with you guys? hehehe. enjoy <33

이희승︱Lee Heeseung

Tired lovers whose heads rest upon each other in the quiet corner of a subway. Lying upside down on the sofa just because you can. Playing with another’s hands. Smiles that find two faces at the same time. Thanking yourself for exercising when you really didn’t feel like it. The shimmering lights of a cityscape at night. Admitting that you made a mistake. Remembering that you’re one in eight billion. The sultry flicker of a gaze between two eyes. Silver cufflinks. Better by Khalid. Admiring someone as they ramble on about the things they love. Sexual tension that blinds everything around it. Black button-ups. Sudden moments of crippling nostalgia. Compulsively slapping a sack of rice at the supermarket. Dedicating a hoop to someone and missing by a mile. The irresistible scent of your best friend’s shampoo. The dream that left you feeling butterflies the entire day.

박종성︱Park Jongseong

Monotone outfits. Your phone falling onto your face when scrolling in bed. Red, hot lipstick stains littered on the smooth skin of a neck. Gold necklaces and gold earrings. The calming reassurance that you tried your best. Pulling off your socks after a long, exhausting day. Waking up to the rain of a thunderstorm. The moment you realise your enemy is actually kind of hot. Eye contact that brings with it an endless wave of goosebumps. Round-rimmed spectacles sitting low on a nose. The bubble of champagne in a glass. The click of shoes on shiny tiles. Gallery visits but the art on the walls isn’t what you're staring at. Fond shakes off the head. The muscle that moves so visibly beneath a fitted shirt. A protective hand finding itself hovering over a lower back. Bumping into a glass door and playing it off cool. When one person cooks dinner and the other washes the dishes. A breathy chuckle that grazes the cusp of an ear.

심재윤︱Jake Sim

Almost losing your balance when the sand under your feet glides back into the ocean. The warmth of skin under a cool duvet. Wet smooches from your dog. That one perfect strand of hair you wish you could keep that way forever. Sudden bursts of inspiration that make you feel like you can conquer the world. Kisses on the temple. Kisses on a smile. Hands squeezing hips. Barely contained laughter. The deep regret of walking away. Jumping up to touch the top of a doorframe. Wholeheartedly believing in the five second rule. “You’re perfect to me” whispered in the early hours of morning. Key smash conversations over text. A silver chain that dangles down onto your lips. The one eye that opens to the dawn of a new day. The brief fluttering in your chest when the carousel horse rises up once again. Cold fingers that caress the skin beneath your shirt.

박성훈︱Park Sunghoon

Sunglasses worn indoors because you forgot to take them off. Messy latte art that means so much more because it’s the effort that truly counts. Loosely intertwined fingers. Long walks during the freezing winter months. Lip bites and hooded eyes in moments of lust. Looking in the mirror and loving what you see. The divine feeling of velvet beneath your fingertips. Staring up at a skyscraper and almost stumbling backwards. Letting someone win because you love them so dearly. Soft lips planted on soft knuckles. Solemn wishes made on stray eyelashes. Throwing your head back in uncontrolled laughter. Red high heels. Refusing to get out of bed on Sunday morning. Gliding your fingers through silky soft hair. Going through with something you swore you’d never do. Cat-walking your entire closet at an ungodly hour of the night. Strong arms guiding you to sit down on a lap.

김선우︱Kim Sunoo

The taste of the colour yellow. When a piece of clothing fits just right. Finding a picture in your camera roll taken by mistake but keeping it because it looks cool. The indescribable happiness of a clear, blue sky. Light academia and dark academia. The one shoulder you know you can lean on. The hoot of an owl. Realising just how close your lips are to your lover's. The desperate longing to run away from reality for a while. Elbow nudges that silently ask if you’re okay. When the raindrop you were rooting for wins its race down the window. Two warm hands cupping your cheeks. Literally Netflix ‘n chilling all night long. Golden hour that highlights the magic in someone’s eyes. Feeling young and fresh even when you’re old and weathered. New year’s resolutions that inspire positive change…even if it's just for a month. Immediately dropping your bags and jumping on the hotel bed. The hug you didn’t realise you needed so badly.

양정원︱Yang Jungwon

That perfume you caught one whiff of and immediately wanted to own. Spontaneously realising the beauty of the world around you. The flying wisps of hair that tickle your forehead on a windy day. Chequered Off The Wall sneakers. Sleeveless jumpers. The innocent brush of lips on lips. The words of wisdom that found you in a time of need. The entire grentperez discography. Safe hands stroking your head. The same hands ruffling your hair. Making snow angels in the winter. The memory from your childhood that fills you with the most happiness. When you can’t decide if you’re feeling hot or cold. Legs that entangle together among the sheets. Wondering if there really are more atoms in the human eye than stars in the universe. Nicholas Sparks movies. Falling in love with a song after hearing it for the first time. Late-night drives with no particular destination in mind. Foreheads that touch as eyes slowly flutter closed.

西村力︱Nishimura Riki

That beautiful pain in your chest when thinking of the one you love. Lifting your feet from the pedals while riding your bike down a hill. Marmalade streaks that paint the sky at dusk. The moment you realise you’ve fallen in love. The warm smile of a random stranger. Knowing your inner child is gradually healing with time. Pulling your hood up when in a particularly rebellious mood. The moment a maths question finally clicks. Pinkie promises that last a lifetime. The sheer agony of dropping the last chip on the ground. When opposites attract. The tickle of a nose in the crook of a neck. Cuddling close during a scary movie. Trying not to crack a smile when the person scolding you stumbles over their words. Watching the tide wash over the initials you’d etched into the sand. The cheesy quote that actually inspired you one day. The familiarity of your own bed after parting with it for so long. Ignoring your friend when your eyes find the person across the room.

© jaetaimjadore, 2023, all rights reserved

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #kflixnet #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #heeseung fanfic #sunghoon fanfic #park jongseong fanfic #jake sim fanfic #sunoo fanfic #jungwon fanfic #enhypen niki fanfic #heeseung x reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen niki x reader #fic: headcanons

[mammonsfeatheraccessories]

fluff; mammon brain rot combined w/ all the lipstick stain vids going around

***

“Wait—“ he scrunches up his nose, going cross-eyed as he tries his best to glare up from underneath you. “What’re ya doin’? Stop that!”

Big words from the man clinging desperately to your hips, giggling every time your lips brush a ticklish spot. The pouty red marks you leave behind compete with the crimson of his blushing cheeks. But you decide to play with him, anyway.

“Okay,” you agree, sitting back to admire your work. Perfect marks dot his temple and stain over the bridge of his nose. You sigh. The prints are sloppy and smeared when you come to his cheeks and chin, from his squirming.

“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your shoulders to pull you back to him. “Didn’t say you had to stop.”

“That’s exactly what you said.” Shaking your head, you thumb away some lipstick from the corner of his lips. “You messed me up, anyway.”

He drops his chin, bashful. His sunglasses fall back to his nose. He is effortlessly pretty beneath you, completely ridiculous, more malleable than play-dough and so, so handsome, covered in your scent and mark.

“Then you better fix it,” he grumbles, bringing his face closer to yours.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me fluff #obey me fic