#LIKE I LOVE THEM BOTH EVEN IF VELVET GOT ME IN ON THE FIRST PLACE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 9 months

Note

grinding against virgin!eddie cock until he cums. skin to skin.

i love a good sinful request hahah hope you like it angel! — the one where you ride eddie for the first time (new-ish relationship, l-bomb, smut 18+, 1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

A summer breeze billows through an opened window. The evening air cools your burning, bare skin when it kisses your sweat-slicked bodies. It feels almost like silk. Nowhere near as soft as you are.

Eddie sits on the edge of his bed while you ride him. You’re made exactly of velvet and honey as you roll your hips in rhythmic motions over his thighs. Your warm cunt sucks him impossibly further in and in and in.

The slick drooling from your pulsating walls drenches his aching cock and the bushy thatch of pubic hair below it. You grow somehow tighter every time your sensitive clit drags across the coarse patch of his happy trail. You tilt your head back and exhale a gentle moan at the ceiling — as pretty as a wolf howling at the moon.

Eddie so desperately wants to kiss the newly displayed skin of your neck. His lips ache to suckle at the tendons you bear to him, to find your racing pulse point and bite you softly there. He might’ve — if only he could tear his eyes away from you for a fraction of a second.

This isn’t the first time he’s fucked you, but it’s the first time you’ve been on top of him like this.

His chest swells with the same burning pleasure you gave him the first time he slipped inside you. His cock is equally as sensitive, though maybe more so with the newfound sensation of the steady rise and fall of your velvety cunt.

His hands are still as unsure of themselves. They fidget with the urge to hug you tightly to him, though he's distantly fearful of touching such art at the same time.

You notice it rather quickly — the way his fingers idle on the outsides of your knee in a featherlight touch.

You can tell he wants to touch you, that he just doesn’t know how to.

He’s still scared of making the wrong move with you, still feeling the need to impress you in some way. Unsure of how he got you in the first place, he’s worried his inadequacy will ultimately lead to his heartache.

“You don’t have to be afraid to touch me, Eds,” you tell him, breathless, as you sink down to the base of his cock.

You still and linger there, exhaling a gentle moan from your nose at the combined feeling of him twitching inside you and your delicate button rolling across his lap.

Eddie feels close to exploding, both at how good you feel and how overwhelmed you’re making him.

Your trembling hands rise from his shoulders to cup his jaw. Your thumb swipes over his flushed skin as you force him to keep his eyes on you.

Your heavy-lidded stare pierces somewhere deep in his soul, a bolt of blue lightning he can feel down to his sensitive, bulbous head.

He wants to move, but his brain short circuits. You’ve effectively paralyzed him, it seems.

“C’mon…” you lilt when you notice him hesitating. A wavering smile quirks the edges of your swollen, kiss-bitten mouth.

Even though you’re not moving, you’re still suffocated by your own pleasure. He’s reaching a whole different angle inside you with this new position you’re in. You have no choice but to feel him everywhere.

“Touch me, Eddie… Need to feel you…”

Eddie’s never denied you of anything before. He’d be an idiot to start now.

With uncertain hands, he reaches for your waist. His palms are wide and warm as they settle there, pale palms smoothing over your skin and holding firmly at the soft pudge on your sides.

Even with his stern grip, his touch is not the least bit directing of you. His hands are obediently still — all-consuming with the love he holds within them.

The feeling of him in such an innocent way makes you sigh a pretty moan.

A pathetic whine sounds from Eddie’s throat when your velvet walls clench around him. He doesn’t have too long now — not with how intently you’re gripping his sensitive cock.

He grits his teeth and leans his head his back, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to fend off his inevitable orgasm.

It’s damn near impossible, he finds. He can feel you everywhere.

You’re on his dick and drenching his lap. Your damp skin presses against his, the slick between you all but adhering you to him. Your hands feel like slinking vines as they leave his jaw to curl into his hair. Your fingers twist in the sweaty tendrils at the back of his neck.

He feels the lightning strike of your touch in a tingle that shoots down his spine. Or perhaps it’s the growing need to fill you with everything he’s got to give.

Now, you’re the one that can’t stop looking at him.

His lips are pinker than usual with how keenly you’ve kissed them. The color pairs so nicely with the red splotching his pale skin — the apples of his cheeks, his jaw, the bottom of his neck, and the top of his chest.

You get too easily distracted by how pretty he is to worry about your own pleasure.

Your clit swells with every pass over his lap, but you can only think about making him feel good. You don’t want him to stop making such pretty little noises for you.

You want to hear him moan for you when he comes. You want to feel him shake like a leaf beneath you when you keep riding him through his high. You want to hear him beg you to stop when he gets too sensitive to function properly.

Surely, that isn’t too much to ask.

You need Eddie to come more than you need it for yourself.

With a knowing smirk hinting at the edges of your lip, you roll your hips over his thighs once more and clench tighter around him. A soft sigh spills from your mouth at the feeling of his cock quivering within your delicate walls.

Your smile grows when it makes Eddie moan, though it sounds more like a feeble sob in his chest.

“Doing so good for me, Eds,” you whisper as you drag your hips back again. You bring them forward a moment later, not stilling until your stomach is pressed against the soft pudge of his. “Making me feel so good.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.

“Why?” you wonder with a breathless giggle.

“‘Cause it’s gonna make me come…”

“What if I want you to?”

His closed eyes squeeze further shut as a whine sounds in his throat, muffled through his clenched jaw.

Your hips fall slowly over his thighs again at a pace as steady as it is slow. They come forward again, unrushed and undemanding. The way you still and clench around him is obviously measured. It pushes him closer to the edge.

“You’re always so pretty for me when you come,” you confess, voice wavering as your own orgasm creeps up your spine. “Always makes me come so hard…”

Eddie whines again, louder this time, as he buries his face in your shoulder. He seeks solace there, with his nose smushed against your damp skin. He hides his moans there, too.

Your pace quickens over his lap, and he groans into your neck. Spurred on by his pretty sounds and his hands rising up your back, you keen and wrap your arms around his neck.

The two of you hug each other in a rather sinful embrace.

You bury your nose into his wild curls and push through the burning orange embers simmering in your clit and the pit of your stomach.

Eddie holds you tightly against him while his cock trembles relentlessly inside your satin walls, like he’s drowning in an ocean of pleasure and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat.

That’s what it feels like, anyway.

That’s what it feels like to be with you, too — in ways more innocent than this wicked one.

He’s too often lost, too innocent in his way. Still stuck in his boyhood, he rarely ever feels good enough — for life, for you.

He gravitates to you like a focal point, a reminder that he’s still alive when he feels like life is strangling him.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve to feel as good as you make him feel.

His chest swells with the very thought. It’s an empty, wet feeling that makes him feel like he might cry. And, god, what an idiot he’d be to get all emotional the first time his girlfriend rides him.

He can’t help it, though. He’s a lucky schmuck who managed to woo you into his bed — he’s owed a small sob of victory, he figures.

“Fucking love you like this,” Eddie babbles into your neck, fueled by his impending orgasm. “Love fucking you, baby… Love you all the time... Love you so fucking much, you know that? I fucking love you.”

Even though you’re distantly shocked by his words, you don’t stop riding him. You don’t plan on stopping until he’s begging you to.

You figure he’s too pussy drunk to understand what he’s saying, to know how meaningful his words really are. But he keeps on saying them — “Love you. I love you. I love you so goddamn much—”

Maybe he’s too overwhelmed by his impending orgasm, and his brain has short-circuited accordingly. Maybe he really does love you, and it took a good fucking to finally tell you.

You’re not quite sure.

You’ll ask him about it when all this is over — when his cock is softening on his thigh and his come is seeping out of you while he holds you in his arms.

But for now, you press your cheek against his burning one and whisper in his ear. “I love you, too.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

3K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 2 months

Note

This is my first ever time requesting and i feel a tad nervous about it. Since i don’t know how the whole thing works.

Okay so i've seen in your previous posts that you said you don't write for barty jr as a central character but imma request anyways and maybe just maybe i'm lucky and you do end up writing this request (no pressure tho sweetie)

Basically a Ravenclaw reader x reg x barty. Reader is a total sweetheart but also very witty, playful and sassy in a sweet way. and marauders are also involved in the fic. (Maybe reader is neighbors with James or maybe she's beasties with rem. I don't mind. you decide that.)

Your moonwater x reader one shot was so cute and i’m just craving more of your writing.

Anyways thank you and also if you don’t want to write for barty just replace him with another character or just ignore this whole request. 💗

🤨🤨🤨🤨 I wanted to say no on account of I really don't know that I want to write for Barty BUT....you're just too cute and I love you too much and I didn't want to say no to you on your first request [which: thanks so much for bestowing me with such an honour]. 🤨🤨🤨🤨 cheeky little minx, I bet you did that on purpose 😉

So I present to you, for possibly the only time ever on ellecdc.... poly!bartylus x Ravenclaw!reader

CW: Barty jokes (?) about wanting to kill people - very on brand for him

“Reggiiieeeee.” Barty whined as he walked into their shared dorm room where Regulus had been reading due to the fact that Barty had taken up residence in the Slytherin common room, making reading nearly impossible.

Regulus stifled a sigh and offered a begrudging “yes, my love?” as Barty belly-flopped onto the bed and muttered something (unintelligible) miserably into the velvet quilts.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Regulus asked, deciding to bookmark his place and give his boyfriend his undivided attention (anything less could end up being detrimental to both Regulus and Barty’s safety).

Barty lifted his head with a pout on his lips to look at Regulus. “How mad do you think Y/N would be if I killed Potter and his friends?”

Point proven.

“I’m sorry, what?” Regulus deadpanned, causing Barty to groan and roll onto his side.

“It’s just she’s always spending so much time with them and they’re all so annoying. And I don’t want to tell her to not hang out with them” (that was a lie; Regulus has heard Barty tell you that the Marauders were 'no good company to keep' well over hundreds of times) “so, I thought it’d just be better if they...disappeared, you know?”

“What have you done?” Regulus groaned darkly, causing Barty to chuckle.

“Nothing! Nothing...” yet.

“You do realize that your hit list includes my brother, right?” Regulus asked.

Barty looked at him like he was sort of stupid. “Uhm...duh, it’s called hitting two bludgers with one beater-bat. Do keep up.”

“Barty, you are going to scare her away...” Regulus pressed. “...you’re kind of scaring me away.”

Barty’s groan nearly turned into a shriek as he threw himself back down onto the bed in defeat.

“Fine. But when we’re trying to enjoy a nice moment with Y/N and Potter and his cronies interrupt, it will be all your fault.”

And with that Barty got up and stormed out of the dorm room. Regulus sighed in relief and pulled his book back out.

So, when the three of you were wandering around Hogsmeade (i.e., you and Regulus were walking hand-in-hand whilst Barty followed, balancing precariously on the stone walls of bridges as well as some fences lining various properties (much to the shop clerks and homeowners’ chagrin), pausing to pet every cat he could find and seeing how many times he could skip stones in the pond [the answer was none, he kept throwing them too hard]), Regulus got proven wrong (somehow), and (even more importantly) Barty got proven right when Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus showed up.

“Hey guys!” You called cheerily, and Regulus was almost ashamed to admit that your sweet smile and kind voice cancelled out any chagrin that the appearance of his brother caused him.

“Hello gorgeous! Baby bro.” Sirius called with a wink, causing Regulus to roll his eyes.

“Can I help you four!?” Barty nearly screeched as he showed up seemingly out of nowhere, all but standing directly in front of you like he was trying to shield you from the sight a particularly horrifying broom crash.

“Barty...” You chided jovially, gently nudging him aside. “They’re just saying hello.”

Sirius looked rather chuffed that you had defended them. Regulus didn’t like that one bit.

“Okay, well hello. You can leave now.” Barty shouted.

“Oh, lighten up, Junior.” Remus called with a smirk. “We’re all friends here.”

Barty scoffed. “I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than be friends with Gryffindor’s.”

“Ew.” Everyone else said in response.

“Come on, my sweet, beautiful, angelic, lovely, smart, wonderful girl. I don’t want you or our beautiful day to be tainted by such scoundrels.” He cooed at you like you were some toddler on the verge of tears from having dropped your ice cream on the ground.

You groaned a little bit but acquiesced, allowing Barty to turn your body in the opposite direction.

“Sorry guys. I’ll see you tomorrow for our study date!” You called over your shoulder, to which Barty quickly counteracted with a “no you won’t!”

“You know, love,” Regulus murmured into your ear, “you’d probably save him a little bit of grief if you at least didn’t call it a date.”

“Perhaps. But look at him now.” You whispered back conspiratorially. “He’s holding my hand and talking a mile a minute about how much of his dad’s money he wants to spend on us at Tomes & Scroll’s.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smirk at that.

A Ravenclaw may have been smart enough to come up with a plan like this, but only the influence of your two Slytherin boyfriends would have made you cunning enough to pull it off.

AN: I don't know how I feel about this one bit

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #barty crouch jr #bartylus #barty crouch junior #poly!bartylus #ellecdc fics #barty gate

505 notes · View notes

squirmhoney · 1 month

Note

honestly just the idea of aegon being obsessed with reader is just insane. like he’s fully obsessed with her, he doesn’t want anyone else to have her, and she’s seemingly innocent so he wants to teach her how to do things and gets angry when other guys make a move on her. idk if this makes sense??

Warnings: Dark. Dub con. Pervy men. A lot of smut. Incest implied but not stated. Public sex. 18+ A/N: Ahh I'm loving obsessed Aegon and want to make him a bit softer. However, I hope you're okay I made it into more of a head canon/drabble and added a little bit of Aemond at the bottom because I miss him.

Aegon

Obsessed!Aegon who wakes up wrapped up in his sheets with you, bodies pressed so tightly together. This could have been such a sweet moment, the early light of the sun beating down on your skin, but Aegon’s perverse mind never allowed him a moment's peace. It’s what you woke to, Aegon kissing underneath one of his t-shirts you wore, positioned between your legs as he tried to wake you. You could feel his hard dick pushed up to your damp panties, rubbing slowly against you as he tried to get off. You whimper at the feel of him, mumbling his name to get his attention. As soon as he realised you were awake, his head is popping out of your t-shirt, asking if you wanted him to make you feel good. One nod and that man is grinding against you, making you both whimper and moan in bliss.

Obsessed!Aegon who comes down for breakfast a minute later than you, not wanting to draw attention to the both of you if you came down together. However, he can’t help but eye you up as he makes himself a coffee, wondering why you look so good. As soon as he sits next to you, he’s asking you these questions. Which leads you to reply with an “are you joking?” look as you raise your brows at him. But he’s insistent and all you can do is laugh pointing out your bed head, the baggy t-shirt of his and joggers that you are wearing. He still swears you look good and to prove that he places your hand over his boner, thrusting his hips up into it for a tiny bit of release. You quickly steal it away, ducking your head away as you try to hide your flushed face from the prying eyes around the table.

Obsessed!Aegon who literally feels like just touching you isn’t enough. He is the kind to be so obsessed he needs to be under your skin. Being buried inside those velvet walls of yours will just have to do. You’re literally trying to get ready, putting your makeup on at his desk with your little setup but he’s so damn needy. He’s literally got you on his lap, holding you a few inches above him as he fucks into you. You’re scolding him for his behaviour at first, telling him he needs to get his head out of the gutter. But then his cock is hitting that spot inside of you that has you biting down on your lip, hand falling onto one of his thighs as your nails dig in. It’s a few seconds later, when Aegon is kissing you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat to keep you quiet, that his mum knocks on the door, asking if he knows where you’ve ran off to. With his hand pressed against your lips, he’s saying he has no idea, drilling into you harshly.

Obsessed!Aegon who admires how dressed up you got for your date with him even if it took longer than expected (because of how much of a horn dog he is). Who is cursing in his head though that you had to wear that sundress he loved so much, especially when it had the man at the ice cream stand eyeing you up so much. But he’s later thankful for it as he pushes you down into the grass behind some trees, kissing down your body as you try to push him away. He pouts up at you, with a darkened gaze as he asks, “you love me, don’t you?” That’s all he needs as you spread your legs, allowing him to hike that sundress up to your waist, wasting no time as he attaches his mouth to your soaked panties, only moving them to the side when he thinks your moans aren’t loud enough for him.

Obsessed!Aegon who grins proudly as you stumble back to his car, making sure to pass the ice cream stand on the way. The man from before is now staring at you with wide eyes, noticing your fucked out expression as you practically cling onto Aegon. He makes sure to park the car somewhere a bit more secluded, knowing he won’t make it back to the house in time to have you. Within seconds he has you bare in the back seats, legs pressed between the pair of you as he folds you in half. You whine at him afterwards, telling him he ruined your makeup and hair but he soothes your sadness with a featherlight kiss on your cheek, telling you that he likes you better just like this.

Obsessed!Aegon who didn’t even realise that you had spent all day out together, not answering a single call from your parents. They’re waiting for you, being instantly alarmed by your appearance. You’ve ruined your dress with grass stains, there are leaves in your done up hair as well. Aegon is quick to joke about how you fell, because of how clumsy you are and they eventually believe him, even if they don’t want to.

Obsessed!Aegon who waits impatiently for you to make your way to his bedroom. Honestly he is thinking about going to find you and dragging you here himself. But then you’re poking your head through his door, slipping in quietly in that matching set and silk robe he loved so much. You’ve moisturised as well, easily being able to glide his hand up your legs. He’s biting on his knuckles, trying to restrain himself from marking up every part of your body. The only thought that stops him is the idea of you bouncing on his cock, eager to teach you the new position as he strips you of your clothes. He guides you up and down, letting you take full control as he just lies back to watch your tits jiggle as you ride him. But he doesn’t last long, hands having to grope every part of your naked skin, mouth attaching to one of your nipples as he takes control, fucking into you.

Obsessed!Aegon who knows he puts you through a lot with his constant needs but does really care about you. He shows you that as he bathes you with affection under the steam of the shower. He doesn’t try to fuck you or get himself off in the process. Instead he rubs your back soothingly as he holds you in his arms, telling you how good you are to him, how he wouldn’t have you any other way.

Aemond

Obsessed!Aemond who is slightly different in the way he treats you. Waking you up with his mouth attached to your folds, licking and drinking you so you wake up already moaning as your day begins. He wants you to know how much he cares for you, how much he desires you, pushing two fingers into you as he licks at your swollen clit. You looked best like this, strung out on noises of pleasure as you laid in his bed, completely forgetting where you are as you become louder.

Obsessed!Aemond who swears he hasn’t got a super high sex drive but does find you incredibly divine in the morning. He can’t help but press a soft kiss to your cheeks as you eat your breakfast, not caring who sees. He also can’t help but deny how much he enjoys how you smother him in kisses when you’ve managed to get away from your family, returning the affection ten fold as you cuddle into him.

Obsessed!Aemond who can’t deny you when you touch him. He knows your kisses and cuddling was only meant to be innocent but you don’t understand how badly you drive him wild when your tits press up against his chest or the way you press down on his crotch. He’s indecent he knows for taking advantage of the situation, turning your playful touches into a full make out session. The kisses are sloppy as he looks to have you a pathetic mess on top of him, guiding your hips to take your own pleasure as you grind your hips down and onto him.

Obsessed!Aemond, whose jealousy is twisted and cruel, that burns within him as he watches another man at the shopping centre trying desperately to flirt with you. Of course you don’t flirt back, you’re too innocent to know what’s going on as you smile at the man. He’s dragging you into the nearest bathroom, making it clear to the man what he’s about to do, while all you can do is follow him. The floor of the bathroom is dirty but Aemond doesn’t care, shoving you to your knees in front of him as he whips out his cock from the restraint of his jeans. His hand is tight in your hair as he groans, fucking into your mouth without care for how your jaw aches or for how you gag. You’re a drooling mess around him, eager to please as you hollow out your cheeks, only to cry and try harder when he hisses that you can definitely do better.

Obsessed!Aemond who cleans you up, cleaning you up with wet wipes from that dirty bathroom. Even promising he’ll shower you and take good care of you when you get home, trying to make you stop pouting at him with those wet eyes. He pushes you out of the bathroom, lacing his hand with yours as he guides you to your favourite shop, hoping that maybe a nice treat would get him back on your good side again.

Obsessed!Aemond who gets you guys home at a reasonable time to avoid any confrontation with your parents. Only for your mother to eye him up as he notices the bags of shopping you had got all on his credit card, not understanding why she was so disapproving of it all as you tried to show her.

Obsessed!Aemond who makes good word of his promises, already having a hot bath waiting for you with him inside of it. Lathering up your body with soap as he takes his sweet time caressing every single inch of it. He doesn’t want you to think this is just sex between you so he doesn’t push it any further even when he feels his cock get hard being pressed against your ass cheek. It’s you that’s insistent, guiding his hands to where you need him while you work your hand against him. Both of you cursing into each other's mouths as you try to keep quiet, you rubbing his cock while making good work to slip your thumb against his head, him rubbing circles into your clit, nibbling at your lip as he does so.

Obsessed!Aemond, who pats you dry with a towel, moisturises every inch of your body with lotion, even taking time to braid your hair when you’re finished blow drying it. He places you down onto the bed gently, more than ready to go to sleep but you’re not that tired yet, so he settles for a bit of pillow talk instead. Aemond who can’t help but adore every part of you as you tell him stories, listening to every word as he gets lost in the sound of your laughter. Who couldn’t help himself but kiss you when you looked and sounded so sweet, only meaning to show you how much he cared but within minutes has your leg hooked around his hip as he fucks into you. He takes it slow, apologising that he doesn’t mean to be this way but it’s what you do to him.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #Aemond x reader x aegon #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #dark!aegon x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aemond targaryen smut

367 notes · View notes

juniperskye · 9 months

Text

The Story of Us

Sneak Peek: Three years, seven months and twenty-four days. That is how long you had been with Aaron Hotchner. That also happens to be the same amount of time that Aaron had been lying to his team.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3468

Warnings: Age gap, pregnancy, mention of divorce, mention of Haley and her death, mention of child abduction case (no details), pregnancy complications, mentions of hospitals. Use of y/n (once I think). I think that's everything - let me know if I missed anything else.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Three years, seven months and twenty-four days. That is how long you had been with Aaron Hotchner. That also happens to be the same amount of time that Aaron had been lying to his team.

It really wasn’t that Aaron wanted to hide you from them, he just had to keep you safe. He needed to keep you separated from the horrors the plagued his career.

When he met you, he honestly wasn’t sure what would come of it, you were quite a bit younger than him, only having just begun your ascent into adulthood. It wasn’t until he got to know you that he knew he was hooked. You had him wrapped around your finger and all you had done was be your most authentic self. Something he envied.

On your first official date he’d learned so much about you, you were twenty-five, you owned your own café, you had moved to Virginia just a year prior from Arizona, you were divorced, and you were a single mother. You had explained to Aaron that the pregnancy had been unplanned and ultimately was the beginning of the end of your marriage. Your daughter, Norah, was four and the divorce had been long been finalized when you began dating.

The two of you had agreed to take things slow, seeing as you both had been through so much in your previous relationships. It had taken him some time, but he did eventually explain what had happened to Haley – He had spared you of the more gruesome details, but he explained that his job was dangerous, and it is what had led to their demise, so he gave you an out. Once he had finished his tangent you had caressed his cheek and leaned in and kissed him, explaining to him that you understood and didn’t plan on going anywhere.

You and Aaron have not had it easy over the last three and a half years, after just a year of dating you had moved in together. That hadn’t been easy, you had to adjust to his lifestyle, and he had to adjust to yours. It was hard work finding the balance of your newly blended family, but you had managed – coming out on the other side even stronger than before.

Three months after moving in you had found the ring. It hadn’t been intentional by any means. You were doing the laundry on your day off and while placing his socks in their designated drawer you had noticed the little velvet box. It sat there mocking you as you just gawked at it. You were definitely ready to marry Aaron, but you questioned whether he was truly ready to marry you. You had been together for just over a year and the only family of his you had met was Jack, Sean and Jessica. How could he possibly want to add you and Norah to his family if he was too afraid to introduce you to them.

That night when Aaron got home you confronted him, you had waited until dinner was finished and the kids were tucked into bed, not wanting them to be a part of a conversation of such nature. It started off as you simply explaining to him how you had found the ring – adamant to inform him that you had not been snooping, you had found it purely by accident. That is when the word vomit started, you just couldn’t stop yourself from droning on about how you loved him and you are so excited that he wants to take this step, but you can’t help but feel like maybe you have pressured him into this and that you would stop talking about the future and just take it day by day because you couldn’t live with yourself if you had forced him into this decision and you would never want him to resent you because of it.

Before you could get another word out Aaron had practically shouted your name, it had been the only way to get you to stop talking and listen to him in that moment. He had asked you where on earth you had gotten the idea that he felt forced or pressured from, he was so heartbroken to know that you were feeling this way. This is when you explained your theory about him not being ready to introduce you to his family, let alone add you to it. Aaron’s face fell at your words, everything coming together in his head. He looked into your eyes and the walls he had spent so long building up after Haley’s death, came crumbling down. He reassured you that he wanted nothing more than to make you and Norah a permanent part of the Hotchner family (if you’d let him) and he explained to you why he had continued to keep his personal life so separate from his professional one. This time around he gave you some of the details surrounding Haley’s death and it was your turn to have the pieces fall into place.

Your conversation ended in an engagement as well as an understanding that for his piece of mind and your safety, things would continue to be separate. With the clause that Aaron would at least tell you about his job a little more and he would tell you all about his team (even if they didn’t know about you). You wanted to feel connected to him completely and in order to do so, you needed to know about the other half of his life.

Eight months later you were married, after another six months you had officially adopted Jack and Aaron had officially adopted Norah. The Hotchner family was complete! Or so you had thought. Your family had enjoyed six-ish months of bliss after the adoptions had been finalized before your world had turned upside down. After a night of celebration, (Jack winning his soccer game, Norah’s A+ on her spelling test, your new menu, and Aaron’s completion of his most recent case) the two of you had enjoyed a particularly heated evening which leads to you – three weeks later staring at the stupid digital letters spelling out PREGNANT. Aaron and you had both mentioned wanting a big family, but you had assumed that the four of you were what he meant.

Aaron took the news well, honestly, you’re pretty sure he was more excited than you were. The two of you talked about how you would make the announcement, both to the kids and to your extended family. You also scheduled the first appointment to check and see if this was really happening.

After that first appointment, in which you confirmed that you were in fact pregnant, you and Aaron had begun planning. You talked about potential baby names, and you began looking at houses. At your eight-week appointment (which you’d gone to solo as Aaron had been working) you’d gotten some news that would really change things…you were worried about what this would mean for you and Aaron.

When he finally arrived home five days later, you wasted no time in breaking the news. You were having triplets, and you had officially been labeled as a high-risk pregnancy. Aaron sat stunned for a while, so long that you had started to worry. You knew he needed time to process this, but you really needed him too, truthfully, you were scared. Your pregnancy with Norah had not been easy and that was one baby. Here you were now trying to fathom how difficult this pregnancy and birth would be. When Aaron finally snapped out of the daze he’d fallen into, he reached for you, holding your hands in his own while reassuring you that you guys could do this, and everything would be okay.

Two months later you moved into your new home. Things had been changing faster than you could wrap your head around them and while you were so excited to be in your new home and settled with these babies that were officially four months along, you couldn’t help but succumb to that nagging feeling in the back of your mind. It had been telling you that things would not be this good forever and there was bound to be a bump in this road at some point.

The bump that came was not one you were prepared for.

Three years, seven months and twenty-four days. That is how long you had been with Aaron Hotchner. That also happens to be the same amount of time that Aaron had been lying to his team.

The Hotchner family had been settled in their new home and you were just nearing the end of your pregnancy. Aaron had been called in for a time sensitive local case – child abduction. These cases were always hard on him, having Jack and needing to leave him to work these cases, but now it wasn’t just Jack. It was Jack and Norah and your three unborn babies and you, Aaron had been feeling the pressure of this case and you could see it on his face, in the fleeting moments you’d been able to share since the case had begun three days ago.

It was time and you knew it, that all too familiar feeling, the pain coming in waves every so often. The kids were at school and Jess was out of town. The only person you could call was Aaron, and he wasn’t answering. He had been really good about attending to her calls during the pregnancy but given his current mental state and the pressure he’s under to solve and close this case, you weren’t exactly surprised that he wasn’t responsive.

There was one other person you could call. Aaron had given you his number in case of an emergency. When he gave your number to Dave with little to no explanation, Dave just smiled a nodded his head. The team had noticed the changes in Hotch as your relationship had progressed. He didn’t stay late anymore unless absolutely necessary, he had been happier, smiling more, wearing a ring again. Nobody said anything as they figured Hotch would share when he was ready…they just didn’t expect it to be nearly four years later.

So, when Dave’s phone rang, and it was your contact that had flashed across the screen, he didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is David Rossi, right? Aaron gave me this number in the case of an emergency!” You rushed.

“Yes, this is Dave. You must be Y/N. Is everything alright?” Dave asked, waving off Emily’s look of confusion.

“Umm I’m just trying to get a hold of Aaron and he’s not answering and…I’m not sure how much information he gave you about me or anything, but screw it, now is not the time, I am in labor, and I need Aaron to get here like now.” You were rambling, but at this point you just didn’t care anymore, the contractions were pretty close together at this point and you were in far too much pain.

“Okay, don’t worry, we will get a hold of Aaron. What is your address, I will come and get you and drive you to the hospital. Unless you think you need an ambulance.”

“I don’t think I need an ambulance. If you or Aaron could get here to take me that would be ideal. I’m at our house, the address is 123 West Elm. The kids are both at school, someone will need to pick them up!” You were starting to panic, and Dave could tell.

“Don’t worry about that we will send someone to pick up the kids, I am on my way to you now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until I get there?” Dave was being so patient with you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

“Um, no that’s okay, I should really get my bag together and ready to go. Have you called Aaron yet?”

“Okay, you go ahead and get your bag, I will come to the door once I arrive. And I have Emily calling Aaron now, okay?”

“Okay, thank you Dave.”

“Of course. I will be there soon.”

Once he hung up the phone, he told Emily to dial Hotch’s number. She didn’t question him but ultimately, she was worried and confused by what was going on. The phone rang four times before Hotch finally answered. When he did, he immediately told Dave that they had a new lead that JJ and Morgan were actively looking into, it had been promising. Dave had to interrupt Aaron’s briefing to let him know that his wife was in labor and that they were currently headed to their house to get her to the hospital.

Aaron felt immediate panic, in more ways than one. First and foremost, his wife was in labor, and she was all alone, second this was a high-risk pregnancy and there was a chance that the four of them might not all make it through this birth, and last, his worlds that he had worked tirelessly to keep apart were officially colliding which meant your safety was now and forever compromised.

Once his brain calmed from the rapid-fire panic, he sprung into action. He’d given clear instructions; Dave was to take you to the hospital in your car while Emily drove the work issued SUV back to Quantico to continue working the case. He told Reid to continue on and if anyone were to ask, inform them that he had a family emergency. While rushing out of work and to his car he called your closest friend/coworker who had been running the café since you’d been on maternity leave, he asked if she could pick up your kids and drop them off with him at the hospital after the shop closes at 2pm. She was quick to agree and wished you a safe birth and claimed she couldn’t wait to meet the 3 peanuts!

Everyone stepped up and went to work on their respective tasks. Dave and you had gotten to the hospital in record time. You were quickly settled in a room and made as comfortable as possible. Aaron arrived with about five seconds to spare. Dave gave him a pat on his shoulder and let him know that he’d be in the waiting room to sit with your kids once they arrived as well as to see his “godchildren”. He claimed it was his right as he was the only one who knew about your relationship. Emily arrived back at Quantico and led the team through the remainder of the case which thankfully was closed within the next hour thanks to that lead JJ and Morgan had been following up on.

The next few hours went by in a flash, the case was closed with families being reunited, Jack and Norah had been dropped off with Dave, Aaron had supported you through what was arguably the most difficult childbirth known to woman (naturally birthing triplets is not recommended nor is it necessarily the safest option – unfortunately you hadn��t had a choice given how far progressed your labor had been when you’d arrived at the hospital), and the BAU team patiently waited for the announcement of your safely completed birth…only that announcement didn’t come. They sat and waited for what felt like hours before Aaron finally came out. He explained that you had hemorrhaged after the babies were delivered, the doctor had told him it had something to do with the placenta having not come out completely. Dave could see how distraught Aaron was…he couldn’t handle not knowing.

Things happened so fast, one minute you were being congratulated on bringing three beautiful babies into the world and the next doctors were scrambling to stop the bleeding. You could feel yourself fading, you had reached out for Aaron, and you were able to hold his hand for a second before he was shooed out of the room. You were taken to surgery so they could effectively stop the bleeding and remove the rest of the placenta. Thankfully surgery hadn’t taken long (to Aaron it had felt like an eternity).

The doctor came out to inform him that you were okay and had been moved to a private room along with your newborns. She explained that you would feel weak for a bit but would make a full recovery. She also let Aaron know that he and the rest of your group could go back to see you as long as they remained at an appropriate volume and that any non-family was gone by 8pm as visiting hours would be over. Aaron looked to his team.

“I know that you are all probably expecting an explanation, and while I do want to give that to you…”

“You want to go see your wife and kids.” Morgan interrupted.

Aaron smiled at how understanding his team was. “Thank you, give us a few minutes alone, then I will come and get everyone.” Aaron said as he reached to pick up Norah with his left arm and grab Jack’s hand with his right.

The team agreed and discussed going to grab snacks and coffee from the cafeteria.

Aaron made his way to your room as quickly as he could with two young children. When he arrived, relief crashed over him in a tidal wave and tears sprung to his eyes. He walked to your bedside, gently placing Norah to sit at your feet. He’d instructed Jack to sit in the chair that was on the opposite side so he would be able to see his new siblings. Aaron leaned in to kiss your forehead all the while he could hear the quiet coo’s coming from the three infants, he walked over to them, and you couldn’t help but smile. As you brushed a hand through Norah’s hair and reached to cup Jack’s cheek, you could hear Aaron whisper to the babies “You just couldn’t wait to meet your family, could you?”.

Aaron and you spent a bit of time just like this, your family, taking turns holding the babies or carefully monitoring your older children while they tried to hold the babies. Norah was elated to have three live baby dolls, while Jack seemed happy that she’d have someone new to bother all the time. Aaron huffed a laugh at their reactions and then looked to you.

“Have you thought about their names anymore?”

“I have…I think after seeing them, and seeing you with them, that they just seem right.”

“Well then, are you ready to meet everyone?”

“Yes!”

With that, Aaron made his way to the waiting room. He could see how antsy his team looked, but he couldn’t delineate if it was from wanting to meet you and the babies or from wanting to hear the story. When he posed the question to them, they had all agreed they wanted to see you and the babies first, then the two of you could explain everything. So that is what led to Aaron leading his six teammates to your room; before entering, he turned to everyone with a finger over his lips signaling for them to enter quietly.

Everyone entered the room, their eyes scanning to see you and the kids chatting quietly. You had looked up and smiled, quietly greeting the group of people you had learned so much about over the last year and a half. Hugs and congratulations were exchanged throughout the room, babies being passed from person to person, chairs being brought in from the hallway. Once everyone was comfortable the room fell silent, you could tell they were waiting for name announcements and more information about you and Aaron. You figured names were an easier start and a much shorter conversation.

“Alright, I suppose it’s time for you all to formally meet these three. Aaron and I have thought long and hard about what to name them and it has proven difficult up until this point. When I saw them for the first time, it all became clear to me. So, without further ado, I’d like to introduce you to David Thomas Hotchner, Millie Joy Hotchner, and Faye Emilia Hotchner.”

There were “ooohs” and “awws” throughout the room and misty eyes (though Dave swears it was an eyelash) There was discussion of who would be the godparents of which baby and plans of baby shopping over the upcoming weekend to make sure they were spoiled by all their new aunts and uncles. The team started to pose some personal questions at you, like if you had siblings or family nearby and what you did for a living and how you met Hotch.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any” you said looking over at Aaron. “The story of us…”

993 notes · View notes

aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months

Note

hiii I adore your writing sm mwaaah💋💋💋love this kinda soft n fluffy fics they make me feel safe:'( would you write some domestic fluff with simon plsss FUCKIN LOVE this man💗😭 maybe something where they just got engaged idk whatever you wanna write... have a nice day🤍🌸

Proposal Headcanons And Scenarios With Simon "Ghost" Riley

Do y'all wanna guess who's render I used again? @ave661 probably already hates me for the amount of times I've tagged her the shitty content I write. I hope I did the request justice, they didn't exactly specify what type but I opted for something other than fics because I am horrid in writing those 😭

This is so freaking short, I'm so sorry. I have so many backed up requests, I don't even know where to begin.

❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who spent fucking months looking for the perfect ring, listen he is NOT giving you a ring that he bought impulsively.

❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who gained unsolicited advice from Soap who happened to be the first one to find out Simon had a partner in the first place.

"Aye L.T, if you want a shot of them agreeing to marry you-"

"And what would you know about being romantic?"

Yeah Simon asked Gaz instead. That still didn't change the fact that both Soap and Gaz, along with Price were there before the proposal, giving Simon a pats on the shoulder while the Lieutenant tried to catch his breath.

❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who asked Price for advice so many times, you do not believe how many times he had practiced kneeling on his not-so-strong knees.

❥ Speaking of knees, Simon had to let out some light encouragement:

"Lovie, will you marry me..?" You heard Simon asked while you had your back turned. You faced him, he was on his knees, the ring in the box enveloped in velvet, the stone glistening under the light of the moon.

it felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. Hands on your mouth, you looked at him wide eyed.

"Lovie.. please answer" He mutters, voice clearly a bit of pain and discomfort.

"O-oh shit, sorry Si" You apologized before saying yes. You helped him up with the hand before he pulled you into a tight hug, arms snug around your waist, head buried in your neck while slipping the ring on your finger before you pushed him and cupped his face into a kiss.

❥ After engagement!Simon who's fucking over the moon, why? Because you're finally his, like officially, from the words of your guys' future daughter "No take-backsies". Thinking about how his internal thoughts are just "Fuck, fuck, shit this is actually happening"

❥ After engagement!Simon who has non-stop called you Mrs. Riley in front of everyone even though you weren't married yet, you didn't have the heart to correct him. Soap tried but uhh, that earned him a unexpectedly painful punch on the arm from you.

❥ Didn't take long for you and Simon to start the planning, of course he let you take over for most of it, shared guest list of his brother's family and his family in TF141. Wanna take a guess on who was best man?

❥ Price was the one who stood for his father on Simon's side of the altar, if you asked, Price definitely would've walked you down the isle.

Hot take on engagement rings, I HATE basic and NFL engagement rings with a burning passion. If you're gonna give me something as sentimental as that, something that's gonna symbolize the moment I said yes because I love you so much that I was willing to be bound to you for eternity then I want something vintage or something that looks like it came out of a fantasy book. Something you think that a fantasy princess would wear, I heard they're even cheaper than basic ass engagement rings.

Cost ≠ Taste and Value.

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you

955 notes · View notes

leonw4nter · 2 months

Note

Hi! I love your works sm and have a silly little idea.. Maybe planning and having a wedding with leon? Like im seeing you in your dress for the first time, choosing flowers, the rings, and having all of your friends/family at your wedding etc? Just little headcannons about it would be super cute!!!

DI!Leon Headcanons on planning + having a wedding…

RE:DI!Leon x F!Reader

Leon was supposed to propose to you during an out-of-the-country trip to Switzerland but unfortunately, he left the ring behind and had to secretly beat himself up over it. One beautiful evening, after you and him had just gotten home from the orchestra, he fished the tiny velvet box from his pocket and got down on one knee, too overcome by nerves to remember the speech he swore he memorized and too much in love to stall the question.

“You’re the last person I’d want to lose and the first person I’d think of growing old with. Y/N, will you marry me?”. In the end, he got the most unforgettable ‘yes’ he’s ever heard from you.

The wedding planning took 12 months, enough time to plan the wedding straight out of your dreams. He made sure to make the occasion magical, ensuring that the wedding is fit for a goddess amongst women (in his humble opinion). The wedding rings you and Leon agreed on were perfect, eager for the day that you two will finally have them on forever and ever, the rings facing wear and tears as you go gray and feeble with him.

Everyone saw your wedding dress before your wedding day– everyone but Leon. As soon as the large doors opened up and revealed you, Leon could no longer stop the tears flowing down his cheeks– you were so beautiful and breathtaking and it was as if veiled light itself was walking down the aisle. He was unable to keep his gaze to the front, head tilting to admire you every second. “You look so beautiful,” he excitedly whispered. “I can’t believe I’m marrying you.”

Since you and him agreed on a wedding color scheme of black, different shades of pink, and varying shades of warm white, the flowers you had for your bridal bouquet also followed that scheme, the flowers being cashmere anemones; white and baby pink tulips; vanda orchids; white limonium flowers, and white mink proteas. Everyone else also wore their dresses and suits in pinks and black; Chris opted for a sleek black turtleneck and blazer with a pink flower pinned to his breast pocket. Most of the women in attendance at your wedding opted to wear pink, with the men opting for black. Everyone was buzzing with excitement in their placements: Rebecca and Claire making joking bets that whoever cries first will pay up; Jill and Hunnigan were talking about how pretty you will look; Ethan and Chris were hyping Leon up since the groom was nervous but nevertheless excited; Piers and Carlos were talking about how good everything looks and how magical the air feels.

When the priest said “you may now kiss the bride”, Leon took a small step closer to you, gently lifting the veil that covered your face. He did everything slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment and commit every single detail– the sparkle in your eyes, the music in the background, and how everyone and everything else seemed to be a blur of colors except for the glowing bride in front of him. As soon as he removed the veil from your face, he took a few moments to admire you and pepper you with sincere compliments. He placed his left hand on your waist while his right gently cupped your cheek, big hands handling you with so much caution as if you were made of porcelain. He leans in and presses the gentlest, softest, most tender kiss ever, a small spreading on his lips when it really sinks in that he finally gets to call you his wife.

You and Leon had your first dance somewhere private since you wanted it to be a moment only you and him will share so after the first dance, you and him walk back to the reception hand-in-hand with the brightest smiles. The ring looked amazing on both your hands and Leon couldn’t stop to admire your hand. “You’ve got a ring like mine too, you know,” you’d softly tell him. “I know. It looks better with you though,” he’d respond sweetly before kissing the back of your hand. For the bouquet toss, you decided to use an exact replica of your bouquet since you wanted to keep your flowers in your own home; Rebecca ended up catching your bouquet, much to everyone’s surprise. She happily swung it around, showing it off to everyone, before walking with a happy sway of her hips towards her boyfriend Billy, which made Billy chuckle before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

You and Leon left early, waving everyone good night and good bye as you got in the bridal car that would take you to the hotel you were going to stay in. Since Chris was sober and had already volunteered to drive you to the hotel, he also left the party early. As soon as you two were out of the reception, it was immediately all kisses and giggles and I love yous muttered. Chris had to look you two through the rear-view mirror and say “I’m still here. You’ve got a room for all that when we get there.”

Married life won’t be all smooth sailing and conflicts are unavoidable but in facing and resolving those conflicts together, you will discover just how strong your commitment to each other is.

NOTE - TYSMM to the anon that requested this, I know I took long before I finally got to answer it but I hope it was worth the wait (despite this drabble being shorter than usual) <33 Currently craving ramyeon and mushrooms and seafood... naw but eating noodles late at night?? TOP TIER EXPERIENCE. Kinda stressing rn since one of my groupmates can't do their part on our research paper and it's getting on my last nerve BECAUSE I GAVE US SO MUCH TIME GIRLIE PLEASE 😭😭🙏🙏 Anyways, let's hope that I passed my entrance exams and the exams I took last week bc my grades cannot take another beating 🕯️TYSM for reading my fics, I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #rebhfun #biohazard #death island leon #resident evil death island #resident evil x reader

257 notes · View notes

harrysmmm · 10 months

Note

hello, love! i originally put this in the comments but it might get lost in your notifications. anyway, if you are up for it, do you mind writing a second part for magically annoying? i need jealous draco 😩 anyway, if you do it may you please tag me in the comments or something so i am brought back and dont forget? thanks so much! dont feel pressured to write it 🩷🫶🏻

have a wonderful and lovely day/night <3

thank you love for the inbox! hope you like it !!! ♡

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball. (part two)

part 1

W/C: 2.4K

Taglist: @mrsmikaelsxn @Iail1010

masterlist here

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Mixed feelings. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. A long velvet dress was framing your body, embellishing every edge, every curve of it. Your shoulders were naked, leaving your collarbones with no room for imagination. You paired up the dress with cream high-heels that matched your hand purse.

“I swear this pin on my hair won’t stay put,” Hermione said from the other side of the room.

“I can’t believe you don’t have a spell for that, Hermione,” you teased a little bit.

“There’s no reason for a spell for hair, Y/N.” She approached your mirror and stood next to you. “Besides, I’ve tried to cast one and it’s not possible.”

“Are you guys talking about hair spells?” Luna Lovegood was standing at the doorframe of your dormitory. How the hell did she get in the Gryffindor common room? “I know a bunch of them. I made these two-side ponytails with one of them.”

“Well… you shouldn’t be here Luna!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Cool it off,” you advised here.

“I mean, this is the Gryffindor area. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neville let me in. I’m going with him to the ball. Apparently, Ginny ditched on him. How curious, I thought she was after him, but guess she’s not.”

“Well, you look stunning, Luna,” you added. She did look pretty, in her own way. She was wearing an aluminium dress, or that’s what it looked like, coupled with hanging balls of cotton on the edges. Her face was decorated with shiny, glittery makeup.

“Thank you, Y/N. Your dress is really pretty, it highlights your body. I’m sure Harry is going to think the same.”

The name had been dropped. Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. That was your date to the ball. After the incident with Malfoy, Harry was by far your safest bet. And besides, he did ask you first.

You had spent those past few weeks thinking how, when the moment would come, you wouldn’t think about the incident with Malfoy.

How you would not think about his eyes staring into yours with your wand up.

You would not think about him getting closer with a smirk on his face.

Not think about his eyes going up and down your body.

Think about his hand making contact with your waist.

His lips painfully slow when brushing yours.

His lips.

Draco Malfoy.

It was going to go downhill.

It was tradition that boys would get to the entrance first. They would all be waiting for their ladies to go down the stairs, greet them with a soft kiss on their hand, and show them to the Great Hall.

Hermione and Luna had already left - you were still passing your fingers through your hair in an attempt of putting it together. Although your hair was already in its place, you needed an outlet to where to put your twisting feelings on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again.

Why bloody Malfoy? Why him?

While you were trying to find an answer to the rhetorical question a silly smile got in your face.

No. No. No.

You were giggling like a twelve-year-old with a crush on another twelve-year-old. Pathetic.

Besides, the thought of him didn’t deserve any of your time. The butthead hadn’t even looked at you since the incident. In fact, his little pranks had become even more annoying, even more personal, if that could ever happen. He had faked a letter from Professor Snape that had put on your desk in Charms class. The letter described as followed:

“Miss Y/L/N, Your scores on the test about deadly potion mixing have been the lowest I have ever seen in all my teaching years in this school. I’m afraid you will be suspended in advance and hope to pass next semester. I won’t tolerate a Gryffindor mocking my course, nor my teaching methods. I must take 30 points off Gryffindor. Yours sincerely, Professor Snape P.S. the same applies to Potter. Also the points.”

You teared up that day. And if it wasn’t enough, when you went to see Snape and found out it was fake, he took ten points off Gryffindor for being so naive and believing it was true. He also took ten points off on Harry, for being, once again, mingled in the sauce.

And putting everything aside, you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend you weren’t going to look for his face that night. You couldn’t pretend you were not going to wonder about what would’ve happened if you had said yes to him. How you would slow dance together; how everyone would think you were the most unthinkable couple, but that deep down you were killing the game.

You brushed all of those feeling off, looking at yourself in the mirror forcing it to be the last time. You turned around and headed to the stairs before the ball began.

Harry was patiently waiting for you. He had been looking on and off to the stairs since girls started to come down. He was really nervous about the whole situation and for the first time, it didn’t have to do with him being the centre of attention as one of the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. He was nervous because of you. He had been wanting to ask you out since the beginning of the course, but never had the guts to do it, knowing that a friendship was at stake. The moment you said yes to him after dinner, his belly exploded in thousands of butterflies, and he promised himself that he would try to act as a gentleman for you that night. Because you were the most lovable person he had ever met.

Suddenly, you made the entrance on the stairs. His gaze immediately went to you - how your hair fell perfectly from your shoulders; how the tale of the dress would follow your steps when you went down; how your eyes would magically swing between the stair steps and him. He was taken by the view. Once you had come down, he greeted you with his arm.

“Hey.”

He wanted to say how good you looked. He wanted to, but something blocked his throat, and he was almost unable to speak.

“Hum… you… hum… shall we?”

You got the hint. “We shall.”

You two got in the line of the champions, who as tradition, entered the ball first and opened it with the first dance. While McGonagall was counting you to make sure everyone was at their place, you scanned the room looking for a certain bleached one.

There you found him.

He had his arms crossed with Pansy Parkinson’s. He was gracefully talking to a Durmstrang student as if it was a sort of haute-classe yearly networking party. You hated how he seemed so unbothered, so natural. He looked naturally happy. You hated it because all you could do was fake.

You decided you were going to give him a little bit of a show.

The trumpets started echoing and everyone stood in both sides of the Great Hall, except the champions and their partners who were waiting for the sign to walk up to the dance floor. When McGonagall gave the green flag, the line started to move, every couple having their arms crossed with one another. You decided to hold Harry’s hand. He looked surprised at you but didn’t move his. You were walking down the aisle, most people noticing the subtlety of your tangled hands. You peripherally looked at Draco, and noticed he had a blank expression on his face when you passed next to him. Was that jealousy? Indifference? Oblivion? You couldn’t keep thinking of interpretations when Harry’s hand got to your waist, beginning just like that the first dance of the ball. You gracefully moved with him, having internalized the compass weeks prior. You swung from one side to the other for exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds when you stopped the dance, and everyone clapped. Harry’s eyes were mesmerized on yours, seeming oblivious to what was happening on the outside.

“Y/N, I-” He started a sentence, but he rapidly stopped talking, getting closer and closer as seconds went by.

Was he going to…? You couldn’t succumb to that happening.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And just like that, you left the dance floor in everyone’s eyes.

You got in one of the cubicles of the restroom. You locked the door behind you and melted on the floor. You were so conflicted… why all of a sudden did Harry have so much interest in you? And why did Malfoy tell you all those things a month ago and didn’t even lock his eyes with yours since?

“Y/N?”

It was Hermione’s voice.

“Yeah, here,” you replied, getting up.

“You okay?,” she said.

“Yeah, just a sec.”

You flushed to pretend and got out of the toilet.

“You don’t look okay.” Hermione knew you all too well.

“Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Did the people overwhelm you or did Harry do it?”

You waited a few seconds to reply. “Both.”

“About the people, the hardest part already ended, we already opened the ball. About Harry, you should hint him that you don’t feel the same.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“It’s inevitable. Sooner rather than later.”

She didn’t know about Draco. You hadn’t told a soul about what happened. Mostly because you didn’t understand it yourself, but also because keeping it a secret made it more exciting – it was like your chocolate sweet before bedtime. You wanted it all to yourself.

You went over to the sink and started washing your hands.

“And you with Viktor? Have you two talked a bit?”

“Well, he doesn’t really talk. In fact, he doesn’t talk at all.”

“Stunning,” you replied.

She grinned back at you.

You both exited the bathroom and went to both your respective dates. You saw Harry sitting down on one of the tables, talking to Ron. You joined them.

“Hey, sorry for earlier.”

“Hey. No, it’s fine. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries.”

“You wanna dance, maybe?”

“Sure.”

He gave you his hand and showed you to the dancefloor. A lively rock song was being played and both of you started moving to the rhythm, having fun more than dancing. That was until you looked at your left and saw that someone couldn’t stop staring at you. You and Draco locked eyes with each other while he was also dancing with Pansy.

He put his hand on her waist.

You placed your arms around Harry’s neck.

He pulled Pansy closer to him.

You slowly got closer to Harry’s face.

That was until Harry cut the scene.

“You wanna go for drinks?”

You were surprised. Wasn’t he into you? Why was he not adhering to what was happening, even if you weren’t technically doing it to him?

“Okay,” you replied.

You both exited the dancefloor and headed to the drinks counter. He served you some punch.

“Y/N, I-”

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall blurted, “you must come with the other champions for the ceremonial speech.”

“The ceremonial wha-”

“Come, come. There’s no time,”

He looked at you one last time before being swollen by McGonagall’s anxiety. You looked at him leaving until someone disturbed your moment.

“No more boyfriend, Y/L/N?” Draco’s voice made an alarm in your heart go on.

You looked right at him. “I could ask the same thing.”

He smirked at you.

“What are you drinking?”

“Why do you care?”

“Woo-hoo, you were swollen by a dementor or what?”

“So funny, aren’t you?”

“So pissy. It’s because Potter left you?”

“You know, you sound like a kindergarten.” You stopped looking at him and drank more of the punch.

“Now that your boyfriend left, what you doing tonight?”

“What do you mean? We’re in a ball.”

“I stick to my question.”

You sighed. “I will stay at the ball until I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep.”

“Pity, I thought you might wanna get your wand back. Taking into consideration that tomorrow we still have class.”

You looked back at him, astonished. “My wand? Did you take my wand?”

“Who said I did? I’m just making a point here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

“Draco, where is my wand?”

“Funny you ask because, it will only appear if you really need it.”

You got the hint. You looked one last time at Draco and rolled your eyes. You exited the ball with fast steps and headed to the seventh floor, left corridor, where the Room Of Requirements could be found. You closed your eyes and focused on your wand. Suddenly, where there was before a wall a door appeared. You got in.

The room was full of antic objects. You started by looking at the floor to see if Draco had thrown it, but you couldn’t see it. It was going to be impossible will all the number of objects.

“Looking for this?”

Draco’s voice echoed in the room. You turned around and there he was with your wand in hand.

“Draco, I’m done with your silly games. Give it back.”

“Come take it.” He kept it in one of his pants’ pockets.

“Draco,” you sighed, still you stood in front of him

You put one of your hands in his pocket to grab the wand and he immediately got closer to you. So close your lips were almost brushing each other.

“Hi,” he said.

You didn’t reply and with the willpower you have left, you tried to grab the wand. He got even closer, his crotch making contact with you. He had a boner.

You paralyzed and eventually, looked up at his eyes.

He was staring at you with no smile this time. He looked desperate and lustful. He pulled your head towards his, and his lips made their way to yours.

He started kissing you softly, only both of your lips playing with one another. Then he started introducing his tongue and biting your lower lip so hard it made you moan. You grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you. He moved one of his hands to your ass and squeezed it a few times. He let out a moan.

“The Room of Requirements,” you started saying between kisses, “only opens when you need it.” He tried to shut you up with his mouth but you continued. “How did you get in?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked you, ending the kiss and staring into your eyes. “I needed you.”

Enamoured. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

476 notes · View notes

xxkiller-muffinxx · 5 months

Note

THAT FLOYD ONESHOT WAS SO GOOD‼️‼️ I'd love to see a part 2 for it!^^

(If you want to btw-)

As long as we're together

Floyd x reader (Part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Summary: after a long while of being reconnected with your favorite brozone member. You make plenty of sweet familiar memories, however a line is crossed when a familiar popstar duo enters the picture.

Words: 1475

Warnings: Implied death, angst, another semi-cliffhanger

A/N: I don't know why I wrote these so fast, but maybe it's because I stopped worrying about tiny details and just went with the flow. I don't think I got Velvet and Veneers personalities perfect but I just felt like their scene fit their dynamic as best as possible. Genuinely appreciate the support on the last part, your guy’s positive feedback gives me life. Stay golden and enjoy! Ps. Velvet and Veneer are the same color but I tried to make it clear who was talking in the writing, thank you!

✦✧✦

You remember the first week you two were together. So fondly. Back to back in your prisons and humming each other's favorite song. No matter how embarrassing.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

It's been quiet for a few hours, you're both recovering from the last concert and are giving each other time to process. When suddenly Floyd begins humming quietly. You look at him and raise an eyebrow.

He returns your eye contact and smiles warmly. He then whispers. “Don't you…forget about me.” He would quietly sing. He continued mumbling the words until you would join in, but instead with one of his songs.

“Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be.” You placed a hand on the glass as your voices began to wrap around one another. Creating a symphony unlike anything else. It reminded you that sometimes just singing matters more than any perfect note.

The two of you continued until you couldn't anymore. You tried to keep humming but you threw yourself into a coughing fit. Floyd immediately stopped singing and looked at you. “Hey hey, it's okay. You don't have to.” he comforted, instinctively reaching out a hand for your shoulder but being stopped by the barrier between you two.

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” you responded, despite the deep pain in your chest. You sat up and leaned on the glass. “Can we still talk?” You asked. Then Floyd nodded.

“So mount rageous? Pretty cool huh?” he started the conversation, but you only snorted at his sad excuse for a conversation topic.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

In a similar regard. You remember him telling you about his brothers. You were getting a bit too overhyped over all of them though. Even if you loved every other brother, you had to remind him who the best of them was.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

“Then there's Spruce-”

“The heartthrob!”

“Yeah him. He was nice, I didn't like how much he butted heads with John though. I just wish I could see them again,” He looked at his hands, gripping the air as if it were life support. You frowned. Leaning into the glass.

You didn't know how to comfort him, at this point, you were both pretty pessimistic. So saying anything optimistic would have the opposite effect. So you decided to keep talking instead.

“Yeah, spruce was pretty cool, but did you go to the last Brozone concert?” You said, utterly messing with him at that point.

“Wait what?” He asked as he glanced back at you.

“It was so good! I mean the pyrotechnics, the colors, ugh! The music! Don't get me started on the music!” you did your best to stand up and did an excited spin. Floyd followed.

“Woah hey, slow down.” he placed both hands on the glass and his eyebrows creased with worry.

“Though there was something I could never get over. Something that always irked me.” You stumbled back into the purple surrounding you, looking into Floyd’s eyes. He frowned and looked down. Seeming to already know what you’re going to say. However, you hit him with a curveball. “There wasn’t enough of that sensitive troll…what was his name again?”

He shook his head and said your name once. “What are you talking about?”

“He had pink hair, he was almost the youngest but Bitty B was too quick.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Bitty B was the star of the show honestly.”

You laughed and leaned your forehead toward him, he did the same. Your eyes met and you grinned. “He was the cutest troll and my favorite. No other brother could beat him.”

His cheeks turned red instantaneously, causing him to turn away. you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Which threw you into yet another coughing fit, Floyd was at your side quickly. Checking up on you to make sure you weren’t gone yet.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

Those moments, even if short. Meant the world to you. Now the boundary was crossed. Neither of you had much strength to talk or sing together anymore. To you went with compatible silence. That is until Velvet and Veneer took matters into their own hands.

You were in your usual spot when suddenly, Velvet stormed in. She was in hysterics, absolutely appalled by her performance. “I can't believe that happened!” she shrieked, kicking a shoe into a wall. Veneer came in right behind her.

“It's fine! One voice crack never ruined anyone's career! Woah!” Veneer dodged another shoe and hid behind a mirror just in case. Velvet wasn't having any of it though, she was completely thrown off course.

She stomped to the desk and swiped up the perfume bottle you were inside. “I don't care if it was one voice crack or five! I can't mess up like that in front of the world!” she growled and was prepared to throw you across the room. Before she stopped. She looked at you and smiled. “I just need more troll. That's all.”

She grinned, pulling the bottle to her neck and beginning to spray all around her. Veneer came from behind the mirror and put out a hand. “Hey, maybe we should ration those little guys, don't know how many trolls we're going to need, you know?” He tried reasoning.

Floyd looked up at Velvet and watched in horror as she sprayed as much of the music onto her as she could. There was nothing he could do. Velvet laughed in her insanity. Glancing at Veneer she made sure she was covered head to toe. “We won't need much more Veneer! If I nail this performance we’ll be made! I promise!”

Veneer shook his head and walked closer. When Velvet suddenly sprayed him in the face. “And face it. You love the attention as much as I do.” She hissed. Then once she was calm she slammed you back down onto the desk and left you alone. “Okay, now…I'm ready!” She was going to leave but Veneer stopped her. He pointed at your bottle and gulped. Velvet turned to look at you.

You were spent, your hair all white and your skin turning an entirely different shade. You were dying, and you were dying fast. Floyd dropped to his knees and whispered your name multiple times as if it would be the last thing he uttered. “Please be okay, please hold on for a bit longer.” He begged,

Then as soon as you were down, you were up again. Velvet groaned and handed Veneer the bottle. “You handle it. I have to get ready.” She said before leaving him alone in the room. Veneer grimaced as he watched her go. Then grimaced even more when he realized his duty.

Floyd banged on the glass. Trying to break it open to no avail. Veneer looked at Floyd. “Geez, you're making this harder. If I don't do this you know what Velvet will do.” He knelt down to Floyd’s level. Veneer’s eyes pleading for understanding.

Floyd shakes his head. “you don't have to do this, Veneer just let us go! Please, I'm begging you.” Floyd pushes hard on the glass, looking up into his eyes. Veneer, on the brink of being moved, stands up and looks at your nearly lifeless form.

Before he could respond, Velvet rips the diamond out of his hand. “What are you doing? I told you to deal with it. Not stand around playing with it.” She looked around and crossed her arms. “Ugh I always have to do everything. Hope you like flying.” she says, walking to the nearest window and opening it.

Veneer cringed at the notion, sitting down and looking away from her. Floyd began panicking more trying to get out more than ever, but of course. It wasn't working. He needed the perfect family harmony.

Without much of a second thought. Velvet threw you out of the window. Watching you fall and then dusting her hands off. She looked at Veneer. “Well? We have a show to put on. We have to get ready! Come on!” She walked out, leaving Veneer with Floyd. Veneer looked down at the troll and was going to comfort him when he decided, it probably wasn't for the best.

Veneer left, leaving Floyd all alone. Floyd was looking out the window. Thinking about you, thinking about all the fun you had in your worst situation, and he realized it was false hope. Being with you for the rest of your lives. He then realized there was no platonic explanation for his feelings.

He had loved you, but he didn't know it until you were gone.

Pt 3?

325 notes · View notes

satorubi · 1 year

Text

°.୭̥ 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 — fushiguro toji

synopsis : toji hates brats, luckily for you, he doesn’t have an issue with taming them.

𓆩♡𓆪 content warning : wc : 3.1K : black coded fem! reader, dominant toji, brat taming, missionary, upstanding citizen position, use of profanity and pet names. minors do not interact. <> this is the long awaited part two of jet lagged LOL, i’ve had this in the drafts for so long but i finally got the inspo to pick back up on it. this is me posting this bc i was too excited to wait. also !! i forgot the name of the acc who gave me this inspo ugh, if you see this, lmk so i can credit you bby <33

the aroma of the hot night air and various dishes bombarded your nostrils as you sat in front of your husband. with a glass of wine in your hand and a little frown wrinkling your lips, you let out a sigh that toji knew all too well.

"is everything alright, doll?" he asks, raising a fork to his face. the man asked himself what was going on in that little head of yours. he assumed that a chic dinner on a patio somewhere in paris would make you fall in love with him all over again like it was the first date. but it looks like he was wrong. your food was still intact and your features were warped in frown— he was lost.

“don’t like your order? wanna’ get somethin’ else?” toji tries again, placing his hand on top of yours only for you to snatch it away. you kept staring at the stars, ignoring your husband's gesture.

“is there somethin’ you wanna’ say or?”

you scoff, “i don’t know, why don’t you ask jen? you two seem to be getting along well.”

jen, the name of the waitress that’d been serving you two this evening. toji had been very ignorant to his actions but you didn’t fail to take notice; the way she smiled at him after every visit to the table, the little glances she was throwing his way, and don't forget the coarse tone she used when speaking to you.

it was driving you crazy, and not to be stingy, but you hated sharing what was yours. you couldn’t even enjoy dinner with the man you’d spent years with due to a sense of jealousy, and toji knew this. yet, he hadn’t done a single thing to stop it.

“who the fu— are you serious, yn?”

“dead serious,” you snap, watching as he ran his tongue on the inside of his cheek in frustration. toji takes out 200 hundred dollar bills and lays them on the table without needing to say another word.

“let’s go,” he mumbles, a bit too calm for your liking.

the two of you walked out of the restaurant and into toji's black audi, both of you wearing a disgruntled expression. toji opened the passenger door for you without speaking, despite the fact that he was upset, he still managed to be a gentleman.

you anticipated a lengthy trip back to the paris le grand, but thanks to toji’s sudden need for speed, you got there pretty fast. as you entered, you could hear toji following closely after you as your heels clanked across the presidential suite.

“yn, c’mere,” he says, his gruff voice making your body and pussy jump all at once. you hated how weak in the knees the man made you— it was like a superpower of his.

“toji, i just wanna’ call it a night. “ you utter, but he doesn’t budge. he only moved a few feet toward your frame, pointing his index finger at the void in front of him.

“come. here.”

standing in front of him with your arms crossed and a scowl on your face, you prepare to receive the ‘stop being a brat’ lecture. to your surprise, though, toji's scarred lips gently touch yours before whispering, "you know i love you, right?"

“yes.”

he smiles, kissing you once again, “good, cause i’m about to fuck you like i don’t.”

“what—“

“head upstairs and strip for me. after that, lay down. i’ll do the rest,” unbuttoning his dress shirt, he gives the command. you blink a few times before following his orders, racing up the stairs and removing the black, velvet dress that once gripped at your waist. you laid your back against the mattress and not long after, you could hear toji too— his heavy footsteps inching toward the bedroom door.

“y’know how disrespectful you are?” toji growls before grasping your ankle and yanking you toward the edge of the bed. he had some nerve; calling you the disrespectful one. if anything, he should’ve been the one receiving a punishment, not you.

“bein’ a brat during our nice dinner? i planned that shit all by myself and you wanna’ act out.”

toji used his strength to flip you onto your stomach; you could feel the rough texture of his palms on your abdomen as you moaned. it seemed as if you had forgotten about the jealousy that had formerly distorted your thinking.

“you were flirting with her,” you press, but it comes out as a gasp of sudden joy in your insides. toji’s fingers rub here and there to get a feel for the area that had you screaming most. as you groaned and whimpered in response to his touch, you could hear him sigh.

toji was offended that you'd even consider that thought. given how long it’d taken for him to release the guard he had up when you first met him, he would’ve assumed you’d noticed at least a bit of his progress. the amount of courage it took for him to approach you to begin with was a story to tell alone.

you were more than just a pretty woman on his arm. you were his wife, his best friend, and his lifeline all in one. to be frank, the thought of even touching another woman disgusted him.

“you think i want her?” he asks, hands roaming your chest shoulders before pushing a deep arch into your back. all of this was pulling you right back to where you were on the plane a few days ago; bent over and begging for assistance.

you hadn’t been prepped, but you were too in the moment to care. and if you were being honest, you didn’t need it. the pool between your legs had started to stream down your thighs as toji rubbed his tip in between your folds. even while angry, toji was still teasing.

“you were acting like it,” you say. it came out muffled due to your head being mushed into the pillow, but toji heard every word. prior to you saying anything else, he used his hands to flip you onto your back. without warning, toji slipped himself in fully. he hadn’t made any sudden movements; the tip of him was touching your cervix while his width sat comfortably along your walls.

a small whimper came from you as he gradually began to move his hips. he was giving you slow strokes, but you felt every little inch of it.

“tell me, yn. what exactly would i want her for?”

the question was unable to be focused on. all anger and frustration left your body the moment toji began to penetrate your cunt. it wasn't so much the speed of his thrust as it was the drive and force he put into them. each stroke felt like he was pouring his heart and soul into you.

the man’s hands held on to one of your inner thighs and the other on your foot as he moved in and out of you. it took one small look between you two to see the commotion. every time he went in, there was the outline of his cock carving a space only he could fit into.

“you know i don’t like the silent treatment. quit fuckin’ around and answer me.” he wasn’t even giving you any room to adjust. toji knew you could take it, but he’d at least be kind enough to give you minute— but kindness was a bit out of reach right about now.

“toji— fuck you,” you grunt and he furrows his brows.

“fuck me? you sure?” he asks, now picking up the pace. the sound of his hips ramming into you was messy. his hand moved to your throat, putting only minimum pressure to the vessel all while using it as leverage.

he was practically yanking you onto him and you were already out of breath, and the night had only just begun. toji was filling you up and then pulling away and over. it was blissful torment, and you savored every moment of it.

“toji! fuck- keep going, baby!”

toji positioned his hips toward the side, his dick tickling right where you needed him. you could feel him in every crevice; his cock stretched you so easily. toji couldn't possibly go any deeper than this — and you rationalized with yourself, knowing damn well you’d be proven wrong.

“oh i’m baby now? what happened to ‘fuck you’?” he grunts, still beating your poor cunt raw. you were sure you’d be mush by now if you weren’t clinging on to his wrist for dear life. you knew this had to be more than just one of his punishments. every stroke sent to your pussy carried meaning behind it, like his life depended on it. your body was rocking along with him, allowing him to put his all into it.

“t-toji, please- daddy, im sorry! fuuck oh my god.” your moans and apologies gained no sympathy from the man.

“you got all pretty for me,” he says, fingertips pressing on your skin, “just for the night to be cut short by that envious little head of yours, hm?” he’d released the grasp on your neck, giving you some air— his idea of a fucking reward.

“i’m-i’m sorry, toji. fuck- you feel s’good.” the sentences that left your lips were strung out due to your orgasm approaching rather fast. once toji found that perfect rhythm, it became hard for him not to fuck you straight toward your climax. the headboard was crashing against the wall and the sheets were bunched into a mess— just like you were about to be.

“answer the question.” you felt good too— beyond good if he was being honest, but he couldn’t give in just yet. cause to be quite frank, you had toji completely fucked up. there were no thoughts on his mind other than fucking you back to your senses.

toji’s gaze was almost scary; darkened irises that held sincerity as well as anger. he was staring so deeply past your eyes that you were sure you could see your own reflection looking back at you. no matter the pain he felt from your nails scratching at his chest or the sting in his lower abdomen from holding himself back, it didn’t compare to the ache he felt from tonight’s situation.

he needed to prove it to you. regardless if it was just a brief moment of envy.

removing his hands from your neck, toji placed his hands on your thighs, picking you up from the mattress and standing tall onto his feet. you thanked the man above for giving you the love of heights, because otherwise you’d be in a load of trouble.

with his cock still buried deep inside of you, his hands find their way to cup under your ass, holding you up as you came face to face with a sweaty toji. he then walked forward up until your back rested against the wall.

“hold on to me and don’t let go.”

you wouldn’t have let go even if he asked you to. toji stood at a good 6’4, you’d be damned if you fell from your tree of a man. “just fuck me toji,” you sigh, resting your head against the wall.

“you’ll never learn, yn.”

the sound of skin slapping followed behind toji’s stern voice. starting off slow, he started with just the tip; letting your hole suck him in at your own pace. toji kept adding inches, filling you up and taking it back out again until you were entirely full. the new position had him fucking you even deeper than he was before, your cunt being more open this way.

“take this fuckin’ dick.” with his forehead colliding with yours, toji made sure to keep eye contact as he fucked you against the wall, small whines and curses leaving the both of you. it was taking everything in you not to fall completely weak when he began to kiss your lips.

a string of saliva connected both of your lips, leaving your mouth messy and longing for more. your worry of falling had drifted far away by now, making you a moaning mess as toji bruised your pretty pussy. the lovely symphonies coming your mouth heightened not only his speed but his force.

you were slamming against the wall, leaving a repeated pounding noise for your neighbors down the hall to hear. your commotion wasn’t one of toji’s priorities. right about now, the only thought on his mind was making you cum.

“i love this fuckin’ pussy.” he moans, his voice gruff with nothing but pure determination in the tone, “got me fucked up, yn. fuck- thinkin’ i’d ever leave you for anybody else.”

you couldn’t even produce a sound. mouth agape in an ‘o’ shape, you squeezed your eyes shut and prayed for mercy. toji’s hips were rotating in a circle, drilling into you with your legs quivering in response. you ran fingers through his hair and all over his nape, burying your head into his neck having no choice but to let him kill your cunt.

“shit toji! i’m-i’m- so sorry! i know you wouldn’t! please go faster..” you cry out.

toji pauses, “you own it. alright? you fuckin’ own it.” mumbling, he tilts his head to the side and lets his cock give you one hard kiss to the cervix. “look at me when i’m talkin’ to you.” tears twinkled from your eyes as you looked at him with low eyes. you were trying your best to keep consciousness due to the overwhelming pleasure between your thighs.

“who’s dick is this?” he asks, kissing your lips and tugging on your bottom one with his teeth. barely above a whisper, your voice conjures up a small, “mine,” as he resumes the harsh strokes to your pussy.

you could feel every vein that protruded from his base to his tip, the flesh tickling your insides. you were whimpering and hearing sounds you’d never made before, and it was just what toji needed.

“tell me again.” his voice was softer this time, mouth near your ear sending a shiver through you— another thing you loved about toji. it was no surprise, but you were a sucker for the man’s voice. that smooth, slick tone with just the right amount of charm to make you fall to your knees with every word.

“m-mine. it’s mine, baby.”

you were breathless and so close to the edge. just as you prepared for that moment to arrive, you could see a light beaming in the corner of your eye— a mirror. it was almost like you were hypnotized, watching your husband fuck you senseless. toji’s ass flexed with each movement, your feet dangling beside him with your anklet glistening in the dim lighting.

“keep sayin’ that shit. i wanna’ hear you too. let me know who’s making that pussy cum,”

you were almost slipping from his grasp from how hard he was fucking you. when he re-adjusted your position, you let out a disgruntled groan. you knew he was smiling before you could see it for yourself. it was then when he realized just how to take you to the very top.

“oh? you liked that? liftin’ you up and down on my dick like this- lettin’ me hit that spot?”

his questions were pointless, because the minute you whimpered he repeated his actions. believe it or not, but you were sure the man may have just given you a new favorite position.

“ooh fuck! i’m gonna’ cum, toji. don’t s-stop!”

and he didn’t. toji used all of his strength to lift you up and down onto his cock. he was filling you completely; the only thing being seen was his balls dangling from under you. you were practically howling and he didn’t care to shut you up at all.

“gonna’ cum on this dick? do it, mama. i know you can. c’mon, give it to me.”

that was all it took for your eyes to disappear to the back of your head, your orgasm hitting you like a train. not only bad you creamed on his cock, but you release some juices too. you could see small droplets of your ecstasy on the wooden floor, as well as a bit on toji’s thighs.

“atta’ girl. you want some of me too? wanna’ see you sleep with my cum drippin’ out of you.”

“yes! yes, please yes. wanna’ feel it all in me. i won’t waste it, baby.” a few more strokes later, and you could feel your husband thumping inside of you. toji’s firm arms wrapped around your back as he pressed his dick deep into the depths of your cunt— making sure to give you every single drop.

“aah- shit! fuuuck..” he expresses. you could feel his palms wandering your waist as he carried you both to the bed. your worn out bodies laid exhausted next to one another, toji pulling up the comforter to fit you both.

your head rested against his bare chest, your heart fluttering at the sound of his heartbeat still traveling back to its original pace.

“i’m sorry.” you utter, avoiding his eyes in guilt. toji places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing the skin faintly as he waits for you to finish your statement.

“i shouldn’t have reacted that way. i know you would never do that to me.” sniffling, toji catches your small tear falling before you do, wiping away any guilt that clouded your mind. you knew he wasn’t actually angry with you, but you could tell it hurt him. it was silly for you to go on and make accusations you knew weren’t even close to true.

“i’m not angry with you, baby. i kinda’ like when you get possessive, it’s sexy. but i hope you know you don’t have to worry that little head of yours, ever.”

your head rested against his sticky chest as you placed kisses along his toned stomach. toji quickly grabs your face in his palms, caressing you gently, “i’m serious, yn. i don’t want you to feel like that ever again.” just then, toji seals the night with a deep peck to your lips. you couldn’t deny, when you felt his lips on yours, all things wrong seemed to dissolve.

although dinner was a bust, you could proudly say that resting in your husband’s arms would’ve sent you into a frenzy to begin with. you didn’t need a fancy, overpriced dinner— all you needed was him.

and you had exactly that.

the rest of your night was spent with toji sitting beside you as your limbs softened in the warm bath water. after that, you disregarded your need for sleep and decided to watch him do it instead. tiny breaths left his nose with his chest rising and falling, so peaceful.

it was in that moment when you realized you’d fallen in love with fushiguro toji all over again.

#𝖘𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 #toji x female reader #toji x black y/n #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #jjk x poc!reader #jjk smut

1K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

Note

hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day.

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk.

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house.

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it.

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent.

It makes his heart swell.

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him.

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done.

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating.

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him.

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked.

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?”

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you.

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you.

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him.

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him.

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around.

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #st oneshots

1K notes · View notes

mrsjellymunson · 7 months

Text

Happy Halloween, Love ❤️

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

Summary: Joe raids the costume department at work and conspires to make this Halloween your most memorable yet.

WC: ~4.4k

CW: 🔞MDNI!🔞, NSFW, RPF, PWP, smut, porn with a little bit of plot, established relationship, role play, dressing up, slightly dom!JQ, choking (referenced), oral (everyone’s a winner), fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex (always wrap it irl), tiny bit of mutual masturbation, squirting, maybe a touch of overstimulation, Eddie and demons are referenced, pet names (numerous, including references to reader as a pet, minion and servant), no y/n or descriptions of reader’s appearance, demon fucking (sort of). Please lemme know if I’ve missed anything, and don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with real-person fics or any of this content.

A/N: Inspired by the anonymous comment, “It’s as close as we can get to having Joseph Quinn dress up in the Eddie wig and have demon horns”, a scenario which got stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave. This might well be the only RPF I’ll write (they still weird me out a little). I hope this doesn’t put anyone off checking out my Eddie and Steddie stuff 😬 I wrote this fairly quick and it’s not beta-d. It’s also my first time sharing smut, so (constructive) feedback is most welcome!

You knock on the bedroom door gently, having slipped into your new outfit in the bathroom. Halloween season was always fun with your boyfriend Joe, both of you loving to dress up and create spooky scenarios that would inevitably lead to sexy shenanigans. You’d thought you were the only one dressing up tonight, but you were wrong.

Unbeknownst to you, Joe had raided the prop store at the studio he was currently working at, claiming he needed something for a Halloween party, and he had plans...

“Come in, darling.”

You open the bedroom door, stepping in slowly, wanting to tease Joe with a slow reveal of the short, ivory satin robe you had on, something so innocent-looking belying what was underneath.

A deep, velvet-smooth voice greets you, slowly murmuring, “Happy Halloween, my love.”

It’s Joe. Your Joe. Your kind, generous, loving and silly Joe, but there’s something else about him tonight, something you can’t quite place just yet.

He’s surprised you - the bedroom is dark, lit only by a pair of spice-scented red candles and a small, warm lamp. It’s intimate, but also somewhat lair-like, and the ambiance goes really well with the red and black skull-patterned bed linens you’d bought especially for this time of year. You love it.

Your eyes rake over your man, drinking him in. Clothes-wise he’s wearing nothing but a pair of snug black jeans and a studded belt.

Fuck, he looks so hot.

He’s looking down at the floor, hands clasped loosely behind his back, putting his delectable torso on display for you.

In addition, he’s wearing The Wig. That wig.

You’ve role played with this before; he knows how much you love Eddie’s luscious, chestnut locks, and how when he puts on the voice it all combines to rile you up. One time you even got some fake blackwork tattoos and put them on his arms and chest. That was a very fun evening.

But this time there’s more…

Amongst the curls he’s also wearing a pair of long, spiralling, ridged, red and black horns. They’re beautifully detailed. They nestle amongst the soft kinks, and the curls hide the ends of the horns and however they’re attached, making the effect all the more realistic.

God, he looks amazing.

You can’t determine why he’s been looking at the floor since you came in. Is he being bashful? You’re confused, that doesn’t seem to fit the narrative…

Your question is answered when he slowly looks up at you, with a menacing, Kubrick-like stare.

He’s wearing contacts. Not just any contacts, but full-sclera, black contacts, completely obscuring his natural eyes.

You swallow, hard. Your fingers toy with the sides of the slinky robe you’re wearing, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together, trying to provide just a little friction to the area between them. Joe notices.

“Fuck Joe, I mean Eddie. You look-“

He cuts you off.

“There is no Joe here. No Eddie either. Only… your Master.”

You gasp at his voice, how it’s even deeper than usual and slightly menacing. You’ve always been impressed by the way he can control his voice, the timbre, volume, pitch, cadence. You’re momentarily distracted by how you’re not surprised he’s always been in acting work.

“Tell me you’re mine, my loyal minion.”

You’re broken abruptly from your reverie by Joe’s commanding tone, and you willingly play along, knees weakening and a pool of wetness forming surprisingly quickly in your underwear.

“Yes, Master. I’m all yours-”

You gasp as his strong hand reaches forward towards your throat, wrapping loosely around it. Not squeezing (not tonight, anyway), just demonstrating who’s in charge of this scenario.

Joe your Master smiles in that familiar way you know and love, but he keeps the sinister stare, giving everything a much darker edge.

“Well done, my precious. Now, would you like to have some fun with your Master?”

You bring one hand up from your side and gently drag the the tips of your fingernails along the inside of his forearm, a place you know is sensitive.

He breathes in quickly through his nose, trying to stifle a gasp, though you hear it. His grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly, and he tilts his chin up, narrowing his eyes and looking down his nose at you.

You surprise yourself as you reply, “Yes Master, I’m yours to command.”

Ever the consummate professional, none of Joe’s excited internal monologue shows, and he simply looks at you and murmurs, stretching out the syllables,

“Good girl...”

That’s it, you’re gone. He could do almost literally anything to you right now and you wouldn’t stop him. You let out a small whimper.

Even with the dim light and the darkness of his denim, you can see the bulge in your Master’s jeans.

Releasing your throat, he moves his hand to the back of your neck, gripping firmly but not harshly, bending towards you and pulling your face to his. He crashes his lips against yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a passionate, messy kiss, which you eagerly return.

Breaking the kiss, he grins at you again, before removing his hand from your neck, taking a step back and flicking the edge of your robe near your collarbone.

“Take this off.”

You obey, slowly undoing the robe and slipping it off your shoulders. As the fabric slips to the floor and pools at your feet you’re left in nothing but the new set that you bought especially for tonight.

Joe’s eyes caress your form, taking in the sheer, red, rose-patterned lace decorated with tiny bows.

But what’s really catching his eye is the fact that your bra is peek-a-boo style, and the ribbon ties are already undone, your nipples on display.

He hisses an inhale, and runs a thumb pad gently over one of your hardening buds.

“This all for me?”

“Yes, Master, only for you.”

He takes a step towards you again as he glances to your panties.

“Are these…?”

“Crotchless? Yes, Master.”

He lets out an involuntary growl and brings his other hand to your core, pushing one finger between your thighs and swiping its tip through your already-damp folds.

Feeling your wetness he can’t help but drop his head back and moan.

It gives you a perfect view of his gorgeous neck, and you want to lick it, like you have so many times before.

Seeing Joe dressed up like this and regarding you with such obvious hunger leaves your whole body tingling, and the anticipation of more of his touch makes you feel like tinder about to combust.

You need him to have fewer clothes on too.

Biting your lip, you slowly bring a hand up between you and trace your fingertips over his solid torso, tracing shapes on his skin, touching the fine, soft hair and moving down towards his happy trail, finishing at his belt line. As your fingers reach his belt buckle, you ask,

“Please, Master, may I..?”

Your Master drops his hands to his sides and, with a lascivious grin, tongue peeping out at one corner running over his teeth, he gives you a tiny nod.

You undo his belt and jeans, running your hands inside the fabric and around his abdomen until you get to his hips. He’s not wearing anything underneath, just how he knows you like it.

You push the fabric downwards, dropping to your knees as you go, just how you know he likes it.

His cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, fully hard already, and you drool at the sight.

Stepping out of his clothing, he positions himself in front of you, abs tensed and legs slightly apart, looking down at you with those completely black eyes, a curtain of dark curls framing his face.

“What are you gonna do for me, my servant?”

“Whatever you want me to, Master.”

You stick out your tongue as far as you can and languorously lick a broad stripe from his balls up the base and shaft of his cock, past his frenulum and all the way to the tip, where you pause at his slit, swirling your tongue and collecting a bead of precum that’s collected there.

Glancing up again, you notice he’s pursed his lips and his breathing has become uneven, all signs you’ve learnt are indicative of him enjoying what you’re doing.

Lifting both hands you gently grasp his base with one, pulling his tip slightly towards you, and caress his balls with the other, as you open your mouth and slide slowly down his length. Pausing after a couple of inches you return the other way, repeating and going further each time until your lips are touching the fingers you have wrapped around him.

He’s fully panting now, lips parted and brows gently furrowed.

“Fuck, precious, you’re gonna fucking kill me one day.”

Taking this as an indication to continue, you hollow your cheeks and suck, earning you a deep moan from his chest.

You move up and down at a slightly faster pace, sucking and licking, enjoying having your face stuffed full of him, until he’s suddenly grasping your chin and pulling you up towards him. His cock leaves your mouth with a soft pop, and you’re soon standing in front of him, eyes locked. Gruffly, he mutters,

“That’s too good, sweetheart, and I’ve got plans for you. Get on the bed.”

You obey, sitting your bottom on the edge of the bed and shuffling backwards until you’re in the centre, leaning back on your elbows.

He climbs on behind you, and using his hands and his knees he roughly pushes your thighs apart, slotting himself between them.

He bends low towards your centre, inhaling deeply and pausing for a moment, humming and enjoying the scent of your arousal.

At any other time you might be embarrassed, but his behaviour fits so well with the whole demon vibe that you find yourself heating up even more at the action.

He exhales a long, hot breath, which fans over your core, tantalising you further.

Dropping his upper body between your legs, he lets out a series of low growls as he sucks wet, biting kisses up your inner thighs, pausing occasionally to suck hard on the soft flesh. You moan at the sensation, wondering if he’ll leave bruises, excited by the idea that he might.

You use the opportunity to touch the horns for the first time, feeling the details and ridges, enjoying the contrast with the soft, flowing curls.

He eventually reaches your centre, and marvels at the lingerie framing your delicate, glistening folds.

With a gruff, animalistic hum he licks a stripe from your shining hole all the way up to your begging clit. You cry out, the most sensitive part of you finally receiving the attention it’s been craving.

Wasting no more time, he sticks his tongue out as far as it will go and pushes it inside you, moving and licking and devouring you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

You watch him with hooded eyes, trying to sear the image of this demon-god between your legs into your mind, before your arms give out and you flop backwards onto the bed, just about managing to vocalise,

“More, Master. I want more of you.”

He takes the hint, bringing one hand up and pushing two fingers easily inside you, and moving his mouth to lick and suckle at your clit. You moan loudly, pushing your hips down onto the bed and grinding into his hand and face. He moans at this, and the vibrations start to drive you towards your peak.

He chooses this moment to curl his fingers towards your front wall, hitting that spot inside you perfectly, and you begin to see stars. He keeps up his ministrations, your moans eventually turning to wails as he gradually increases the pressure on your clit, and you can hold off no longer. Your vision turns black, your limbs lock, and for a moment you stop breathing, a bubble of euphoria bursting within you as you come undone with a scream.

He reduces the pressure on your clit but doesn’t stop, forcing you to ride out aftershock after aftershock on his face. Eventually he removes his fingers from your swollen cunt, replacing them momentarily with another swipe of his tongue, before pulling off entirely. Looking down at you he lets out a feral growl. Licking his lips, he wipes his chin with the back of his hand and licks it clean, before muttering,

“Fuck, so fucking beautiful…”

As soon as he thinks you can manage, he’s pulling at one hip, assisting more than forcing, as he says, “Turn over, baby, stick that beautiful ass in the air for me.”

You do your best to manoeuvre onto your front, keeping your face and chest on the mattress and putting your knees on the bed, lifting your butt. He kneels behind you, parting your knees a little further, running his hands over the globes of your ass, fully exposed and framed prettily by the red lace.

He lets out another, “SO fucking beautiful”, before slapping a palm hard cross one cheek, making you whimper, immediately moving in to kiss the stinging flesh, laving it with his lips and tongue.

Rising, he notches his tip at your hole, and, remaining in character, murmurs, “I’ve gotta fucking have you, my beautiful little -uh- pet!”

On the last word he sheathes himself fully inside you, no consideration given for the usually slow and gradual way he’d enter you, animal passion taking over and both of you more than ready.

You groan loudly as he bottoms out, adoring the feeling of him filling you up and how he rearranges your insides every time he does.

He moans as he remains seated within you for a few moments, groaning gutturally and gripping your hips harshly.

You don’t have much respite, as after only a moment of acclimation he’s setting a brutal pace, pumping in and out of you with feral force and abandon, wet and breathy sounds filling the room, his cock jolting your insides with every thrust.

He starts to mutter almost unintelligible phrases in his demonic voice, but you make out,

“So fucking perfect, so fucking good for me, taking me like the cockvessel you are, my good little minion, my pet, my beautiful, beautiful pet.”

It’s all so exquisitely overwhelming, and you start wailing into the pillows.

He chooses this moment to slip one hand around to your front, immediately finding your sensitive, sopping wet bud and pressing small, form circles into it.

This brings you almost immediately to another precipice, and you cry out, “Ohgodohgodohgod!”

You can feel yourself clench down on his length, and he growls out,

“Jeezus fucking christ, squeezing me so tight, fuck!”

Euphoria washes over you again, a tingling heat beginning in your pelvis and spreading through your entire body. You go limp, but your Master holds you to him with one strong forearm, fingers continuing to circle your clit until you move and twitch, your body trying to deal with the dissonance of wanting to get away from the overstimulation but chasing the aftershocks.

As he continues to help you ride out your second orgasm he’s desperately trying to stave off his own, and eventually pulls out abruptly, your sweat mingling as he rests his forehead on your ass, breathing deeply.

You whine at the sudden emptiness and loss of contact, but are grateful for the opportunity to slump onto your side, enjoying the potential for a short rest.

He comes to lie behind you (if you’re honest, one of your favourite positions in which to get railed), but you realise something.

“No Master, not like this. There’s no point in you looking like that if I don’t get to enjoy it.”

Growling again (and seeing your logic) he deftly flips you over onto your back, slotting himself between your plush thighs, tip nudging your entrance as he stares into your face.

He moves both of your arms above your head, running his hands up the soft skin of the undersides and holding them there, hands clasping your wrists and pushing them into the mattress.

He seems to consider something for a moment.

“Hmm, I haven’t given these lovely tits nearly enough attention, my love. Especially considering you decorated them so prettily for me.”

That lascivious smirk is back, and with his free hand he opens the slit in the lace on one side and hums as he licks the flat of his wet tongue over one nipple. As he moves away he lets out a sigh through his nose, cooling the flesh delightfully and causing your already hard nipple to peak even more.

He massages each breast with his free hand, but decides that’s not enough, so commands you to, “Keep those there for me, my pet”, letting go of your wrists and starting to use both of his hands on your soft mounds. He’s enjoying pushing his fingers under the holes in the lace, pushing it to the side to expose your soft flesh, squeezing and squashing, playing with the ribbons, pinching your nipples and licking and sucking on your sensitive nubs. You arch your back and moan with delight at the sensations.

Eventually satisfied that he’s given your tits enough attention, he licks a wet stripe all the way from your sternum, up the side of your neck all the way to your jaw, making you shiver in delight and anticipation.

He hovers over you, tips of his curls tickling your forehead. He plunges his tongue inside your mouth again in another passionate kiss, and you can taste your musk and the salt from your own skin combined with the unique taste of him.

He returns his focus to getting himself seated inside of you again. He leans forward, holding your wrists with one hand, with the other lining his member up with your hole as he moves his hips forwards.

He slowly slides into you, filling you up yet again. He fucks you slow but ever so deep, the change of pace allowing you to feel every vein and ridge of him against your sensitive walls. You’re both trembling, all of your nerves alive with sensitivity.

“Like me fucking you like this, my pet? Want your Master to -mmm- make you cum again?”

Though you know without doubt that would be an absolutely delectable option, and a certainty if he was to continue, you decide you want to do something for him now.

“Yes. But I want to be good for you, Master. I want to sit on you, wanna ride you so bad.”

His eyes widen and that signature grin spreads across his face.

“Well, what my pet wants, my pet gets, doesn’t she?”

He slowly pulls out of you and releases your wrists, and in an attempt to conceal his excitement, languidly moves up the bed to lounge on a pile of collected red and black, silk and fur pillows. Abs tensed, knees spread wide and slightly bent, cock in hand and giving every appearance of being cocky and arrogant, he’s the perfect vision of a commanding demon. He’s sitting like he’s on a throne, like he deserves this. It drives you wild.

He lazily tugs at himself as he watches you crawl up the bed towards him, though he furrows his brow slightly as you pause halfway to sit on your heels, knees wide apart, displaying yourself for him.

“What’re you doing, my pet?”

You start touching yourself, parting your folds and sinking a finger easily into your dripping cunt, your free hand coming to massage one nipple.

His eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly, and you see his grip on his dick get tighter. You know he loves to watch.

You mumble, as innocently as you can,

“I couldn’t wait, Master.”

He watches for a few moments, entranced, but then remembers what’s on offer and taps his thigh, raising his voice a little, aggressively muttering,

“Get up here, minion. Obey your Master!”

His domineering tone sends tingles up your spine and to your core, and you instantly comply, clambering the rest of the way up the bed and straddling his hips.

He holds his cock steady underneath you, running it over your slit, the wet noises exciting you even more.

You place your hands onto his shoulders, stabilising yourself. You take another moment to admire his outfit and presence, holding his gaze before starting to sink down onto him.

As you seat yourself into him fully, that delicious stretch and feeling of fullness returns. You take a moment to enjoy it, before starting to move, lifting up, slowly at first and not too far, before lowering yourself back down. He’s at a fantastic angle, and feeling him so far inside you is intense. You whine out,

“Fuck, Master, you’re so deep…”

He bends his legs behind you and plants both feet on the bed, encouraging you to prop yourself against them whenever you need to. He knows you love to lean back, giving him not only a delicious new angle but also an exquisite view of your tits jiggling as you move, and it also gives him purchase to buck his hips and slam into you from below.

He’s full-on panting again, and, huffing, he breathes out,

“That’s my good little pet, fucking me so well. You gonna make us both cum, my sweet little toy?”

Wanting to do a good job, you use your thighs to bounce up and down on him, his cock hitting that spot inside you and rocketing you towards yet another high. He’s grabbing at your tits, your belly, your hips, anywhere he can reach, grumbling and growling and clearly desperate to feel every inch of you.

You need more, and you grab one of his hands and bring it to your front. He immediately begins rubbing his thumb against your clit, and you start to whimper, already close. Before you lose the power of speech he asks,

“Do you trust your Master, sweetheart? Gonna let me try something?”

You trust him implicitly and, although you have no idea what he has in mind, you nod. He moves one hand to your sacrum, stabilising you. The other thumb continues circling your clit, but he pushes the flat of that hand against your belly, like he sometimes does when he wants to feel himself inside of you, except this time there’s more pressure.

You’re rolling your hips against him now, all the different sensations combining to bring you closer to your release. You can hear him panting too, feel him tensing, and you know he’s not far off either. But there seems to be a different kind of pressure building in your abdomen.

You try to say something, but full sentences won’t come out. All you can manage is parts of words, like, “Wait-, no-, someth-, it’s diff-, oh fu-“

Unable to control anything anymore, your release washes over you in a searing wave, but there’s something else too - you feel a hot, wet gush coming from you and soaking his hand, wrist and abdomen.

Unable to process what’s just happened, you simply look at him, open-mouthed but still euphoric.

That’s it for him, he can’t hold off anymore and his release hits him, hard. He pulls your hips down onto him at the same time he slams up into you, face slack and breathing ragged, and you feel his hot, sweet release paint your insides, simultaneously letting out a long, low, broken groan.

Unable to process anything else, his eyes close and his head drops back against the headboard. You get another glimpse of that delicious neck, and run your hands over it and his collarbones as he comes down. He always looks so beautiful like this.

You both need a moment to let your heart rate and breathing come back to some semblance of normal. Evaporating sweat leaves you both with delicate goosebumps on some of your exposed skin, but the change in temperature is welcome.

You’re the first to speak as you look down at his wet belly and ask,

“Uh, Joe. What the fuck was that?”

His face turns slightly pink as, voice back to its normal pitch, he bashfully admits,

“I, um, just wanted to see if I could make you squirt, that’s all.”

He looks a little sheepish as he continues, slightly concerned,

“Was it ok? I mean, did you hate it?”

“God no, it felt… amazing! Just, y’know, maybe warn me next time?”

“Of course my sweet. Anything for my baby.”

He plants some wet kisses across your cheeks.

As if wanting to illustrate how much he enjoyed it, he brings his wet hand up to his mouth, sucks his fingers and thumb, and slowly shakes his head in delight as he adds,

“Mmm-mm, it was really fucking hot though!”

You slap his chest playfully, rolling off him to settle in the crook of his arm, your head against his chest, running a hand up and down it.

Ever the considerate lover, after a few moments he inquires,

“How was it overall, baby? Did you enjoy it?”

Full of endorphins and the love of your man, you gush,

“Fuck yes, Joe, it was incredible.” As you toy with some of the ends of the wig, you add, “Thank you so much for doing this for me. For us.”

He replies, “Oh love, it was, and I mean this quite literally, my absolute pleasure. I’m such a fucking lucky bastard.”

You both giggle a little at this. Joe delicately removes the horns and wig with his free hand, laying them reverently on your bedside table so as not to tangle or damage them, another testament to his devotion to his craft, and you snuggle into each other, continuing to murmur sweet nothings and enjoying the afterglow.

After a few minutes Joe admits, “Sorry, I’ve got to take these bloody things out babe, they’re really sodding uncomfortable.”

You both laugh again, as he rises from your shared bed and makes his way to your en suite to remove the contacts, cleaning himself off and returning with a warm washcloth for you, which you take gratefully. As you clean up he picks up the horns, examining them and twisting his fingers around what you now see is a sturdy headband.

He takes the washcloth from you, returning it to the bathroom. As he comes to sit by you on the bed once more, you spy a small smirk on his lips. You know that look, devious yet playful. He’s got some kind of plan.

“What is it, my treasure?”, you goad, using your fingertips to gently tickle his happy trail and tease at his exposed belly.

He replies,

“I was just thinking, maybe next time, you could wear the horns…?”

Thanks so much for reading!

Comments and reblogs make my world spin, please let me know what you think!

#probs my only RPF #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn smut #RPF #Joseph Quinn fic #stranger things #Joseph Quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #role play smut #slight dom!joseph quinn #dressing up smut #halloween smut #halloween fic #demon fucking #demonfucking #mrsjellymunson gets the horn

173 notes · View notes

daisybianca · 11 months

Text

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: once a week, you and your boyfriend organize a boarding-games-tournament. today, however, things have changed. because you don't compete in a funny strategy activity, but a sex game.

warnings: mentions of sexual activities

(a/n): I didn't have time to write a longer chapter due to exams, so please leave a comment if you liked this one shot and want a second part (because you will surely realize it is needed if you proceed on reading) <3

SATURDAYS WERE UNDOUBTEDLY your favorite part of the week because of the fact that you got to spend it solely with your boyfriend, spending your time together while devouring delicious pastries, laughing your buts off, and enjoying your limited but precious time together.

Lewis took a sip of the orange juice that he made for the two of. Then, he gestured you to do the same, as well.

Bringing the glass an inch away from your nose, you turned to the man standing beside you on the velvet carpet. "Is drink poisoning a thing? Google it just in case you have to mention it to the doctors later."

Lewis flashed on of those wide, astonishing smiles and emptied the liquid out of the glass in a matter of seconds. "I guess that I'll have to koin you as well," He placed the empty glass on his side, a little further just in case he does a fast moment and drips it over. "If something happens to you, it happens to me too." He grabbed the glass and pressed it to your lips. "Drink it, (y/n)." He instructed, and you did as you were told, but the liquid failed to pass to your stomach as his brown, intense eyes were fixed on your. "Shallow, my love. Shallow." Lewis whispered, making me shiver for some kind of reason.

He loved to tease you more than anything else.

You weren't sure if you hated or adored it.

You swollen the tiny sip, realizing that it's more tasty than anything you could've imagined.

"Hmm...?"

"It's good. I like it," you placed the glass down and a small Christmas bag appeared out of nowhere in Lewis' hands.

"What's that?"

You leaned in to grab it, but your boyfriend clicked his tongue unapprovingly. "No, not so fast." He growled and looked at you.

"You're going to make me beg for it or...?" You joked and laughed to yourself, but for the very first time, Lewis didn't join you.

And that freaking terrified you.

"Not yet, my love." He opened the red and white bag widely and pulled a wide box out of it.

With a very first glance, it looked like a boarding game. However, the moment Lewis placed it on the carpet in front of you, you realized it was more than just that.

It was a game. Not exactly a boarding one, but still.

It was a game for couples.

And the cover read 18+ in red letters, making your heart roar in your chest.

"Every Saturday, we have our boarding games tournament, right, my love?"

"Yes." You replied, forcing the air that couldn't escape from your lungs.

"Tonight, it's going to be a little different." He smiled and scratched his neck. "I saw this online, and the first thing that came in my mind was you."

"The weird thing would be not to think of me..." You exclaimed and you both laughed for a brief moment.

"So, we have a few challenges that we may or may not accept. Some of them are tricky, others are quite ordinary..." He struggled to find the correct words for a second. "... and there are also some spicy ones. Okay?"

Locking eyes with him, you nodded positively.

This is going to be interesting...

Lewis unwrapped the thin layer of protection that guarded the box and opened it, revealing a few cards. Some of them were red, others were hued white, while other were a deep shade of green with white letters.

They all had a similarity, however. On the one side of them, they were all black so that we could not detect a special category of them.

Setting the box away, Lewis set the cards and mixed them up a little. Afterward, he turned them around in order to not be able to read the questions on them, even though you tried glancing over them for a moment.

"So... who's first?" You questioned, despite the fact that yoy already knew Lewis was going to let you upon it first.

"All yours, baby." His thick accent echoed like a temptation calling your name, as he montioned to the cards.

Closing tour eyes tight, you placed your hand on the pile of cards and picked the second one.

The paper was hued green, therefore it was a tricky one.

You read it aloud, and you could feel Lewis' eyes fixed on you the entire time. "Reveal the first two people you last called."

Lewis smiled. "Damn, that's a tricky one? Baby, you don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay." Bringing your phone from the kitchen's table, you opened the phone app and hand the mobile to Lewis.

The first two were him and your father.

You had nothing to hide. He trusted you and you trusted him, too.

A freaking game wasn't going to change that, for God's shake.

Lewis picked a second card, which was also green.

"Explain the two favorite things of your partner's body and face." He laughed and groaned. "That's too easy, my love. The guy who made these didn't even try."

Laughing, you crawled to him, embracing his massive body. He glanced at you and placed you in his lap.

"I need an answer, Mr. Hamilton."

"Well," He touched tour cheeks and moved to your lips. "I like yours lips. I have told you that before, haven't I, my love?" He muttered, and his eyes lit up.

"Yes, many times, baby."

"Apart from that, your eyes were always my favorite, though." He placed a small peck on your lips, and you went in for more. "You know how much I adore eye contact." He added, and you instantly knew what he meant.

That was why he said he needed eye contact while having sex. It was one of his favorite parts of the whole thing. He had admitted to it before.

"Shall I continue, Sir?" You asked and he seemed to bite his lips for a second as his strong hands cupped your whole body.

God knew how much he loved it when you used the word sir while talking to him.

It could be funny when other people called him that way, but with you...

It was very, very different.

He got hard just at the thought of your tongue pronouncing this exact word.

After his nodding, you went for the next card.

You pulled slightly away from him so that he couldn't read it.

The color of the card made your heart stop in your chest for a moment.

It was red. Just like the blood turning ice in your veins at that moment.

You read that. But not out loud.

Lewis' expression grew concerned. "What is it, my love?" He tried to take a look at your card, but you pulled away from his lap. "(y/n), read it out loud. You are freaking scaring me. It's just a game, and--"

He didn't get to finish as you interrupted him. "Have your partner seated and make them watch you pleasure yourself in front of them. They must not touch or do anything else that includes physical touch between the two of you. If they give in, you get to choose a punishment for them and apply it on them anytime."

Lewis' face remains frozen while you read, but as soon as your gaze rose and fell upon him, his eyes widened.

He knew that the next minutes were going to be the very death of him.

351 notes · View notes

herlondonboy · 1 year

Text

Oh, My, Love Is A Lie

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader / Taylor Swift x Joe Alwyn

summary: The one where Taylor falls out of love with you and in love with her PR boyfriend.

warnings: PR relationships, lmk what else. Is it weird that it’s Joe? idk. No way in hell am I writing about yk who though

word count: 0.9k

You were at home again.

At home alone whilst Taylor was off gallivanting with Joe. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Joe, he was nice and shared a few qualities of your own, it was that he was going on dates with your girlfriend. The part that probably pissed you off the most was the fact that when Taylor’s team had suggested a fake boyfriend to divert everyone’s attention from the two of you she agreed instantaneously.

You knew she wasn’t embarrassed by you per se, but the fact that she had already made up her mind on the matter before she spoke to you about it hurt.

Four years together were ruined by a photo of a kiss on the cheek that Taylor blamed herself for. She had let her guard down and loved you in public and now you were both paying the price.

The soft hum of the television was the only sound apart from your rapid beating. You stared down at the velvet box in betrayal before opening your phone to the messages from the night before, double-checking the time you had agreed on.

You: Are we still on to celebrate tomorrow?

Taylor: Yes, of course!! 10 pm, right?

You: Yep. See you then, I love you!

Taylor: Love you

You looked at the clock on your phone and sniffled, 00:13. It wasn’t even your anniversary anymore. A sigh sounded and you stood to go to the dining room. The dinner you had made Taylor was still on the table so you moved it to the oven just in case she got home and was hungry.

Next, you made haste with removing the wax that had melted onto the table. They Taylor’s favourite scent and you sniffled in remembrance before tossing them into the bin.

The television was still on as you found the bedroom. Plastic rose petals littered the floor in a way that looked random, but was anything else. You wondered if she’d even notice if you left before she got back. Probably not. You put the petals back into the bag that they came in and chucked them on the bed before walking over to the wardrobe.

You didn’t blame Taylor. You were nobody and Joe was somebody. Okay, maybe you did blame her a little bit. But she had fallen in love with someone who didn’t even love her back whilst the person that did love her watched from their home.

Four years gone. And for what? She let her insecurities get the better and now you were insecure. Constantly blaming yourself for being the reason she latched onto Joe. Had you seen the cameras sooner, she wouldn’t have kissed your cheek and she wouldn’t have needed the PR relationship in the first place.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door creaking open and a small curse followed by skin slapping against the floor, “y/n, baby, are you awake?” She called out and you walked back into the lounge, frowning when she grinned at the sight of you. Taylor saw your look and pouted, walking over to you, “I’m sorry that I missed our date. I just got a little carried away at the studio.”

“It wasn’t a date,” You said softly, looking up at her, “And I wish that was true, but photos of you and Joe leaving the studio were published hours ago.”

Taylor tried to think of a response before just looking down guiltily. At least she still felt enough for you to feel bad, right?

“It was our anniversary,” You continued, a lump forming in your throat. “And I tricked myself into thinking that you wouldn’t stand me up for Joe on a day as special as this, but I was so wrong.”

“Y/n,” Taylor murmured, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time, but I can make it up to you. I promise, just let me try.”

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the coffee table. Taylor followed your line of sight and gasped, covering her mouth. Picking it up, you held it out to Taylor, who took it regretfully.

“I love you, Taylor, and I always will, but I can’t be with someone that doesn’t love me back anymore. The way you look at Joe now is the way you used to look at me,” You explained. “And I wondered if you actually got here on time and we celebrated our anniversary would you have said yes?”

The look on her face said all. She knew she was falling out of love with you, too.

“Don’t worry,” You said, knowing that you didn’t want her to feel even worse, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

“Y/n, that’s not-“ Taylor stammered, “I would- I would marry you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”

Sniffling, you nodded. People don’t control who they fall in love with, unfortunately. If they could, you wouldn’t be blaming yourself. A weak smile graced your lips and you leaned forward to hug the blonde, “I love you, Tay, and I want you to be happy. If that means Joe, then so be it. I’m sure, I’m sure he does love you back. You’re hard not to love.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, “I really did love you.”

Can’t you see that your words are hurting me? You wanted to scream at her. She was trying to comfort you and was failing miserably.

#elijah writes #taylor swift x reader #Taylor swift #taylor swift imagine #taylor x reader #taylor x joe #Taylor swift one shot #one shot #fanfiction #taylor swift fanfiction

399 notes · View notes

koolades-world · 1 year

Text

What dessert I give you based on your favorite Obey me! character

Lucifer: any type of pâte choux, specifically cream puffs with strawberry jam and whipped cream, it’s fancy and takes a while so it’s definitely giving lucifer

Mammon: tiramisu. Not only does it have a funnily named lady fingers in it, it’s also just really good and perfect for sharing with someone you love cough mammon cough

Levi: churros. While I don’t recommend it, it can be good for eating while playing games. I almost picked s’mores but those are so messy. You can also have a variety of dipping sauces or none if you prefer!

Satan: macarons, they’re harder to make than pate choux which is exactly what Satan would love. They’re also perfect for tea parties

Asmo: rice pudding with cinnamon on top. The cinnamon can be a cute shape if you want it to be. A dessert of my childhood, so simply and yummy and I think asmo would like that about it. It can be healthy but I usually opt for the regular and more delicious version

Beel: walnut brownies, they just hit so different especially late at night. Beel would understand and even though I am slightly allergic to walnuts that will not stop me from eating them

Belphie: flan, another dessert of my childhood. The way it wiggles is so fun. I hate jello because of the texture but love flan because of the texture idk. flan go wiggle wiggle haha

Diavolo: Moon Pies, specifically Banana flavor, I just got a chocolate one and thought he would find it amusing

Barbatos: Frozen Key Lime Pie dipped in chocolate on a stick, it’s a local thing don’t knock it until you try it

Simeon: strawberry shortcake, it’s just so him I can’t explain it any better. They can be so pretty too! Or they can be something simple and homemade, both are good

Luke: macaroons, I’ll take this to my grave but macaroons are better than macarons. My poor baby macaroons always being mixed up with macarons, luke is probably bitter about it too

Solomon: Red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, idk it’s giving you defend it until the end of time because everyone else says it’s the same as chocolate cake when it’s not

Mephisto: coffee or espresso ice cream, it’s my favorite kind. I feel like he would also enjoy the nice balance of sweet and bitterness, and I like Mephisto lovers

Thirteen: lava cakes! These hold a special place in my heart, they were the first thing I ever baked only the best for thirteen and her fans mwa

Raphael: Brown butter pumpkin maple cookies, my speciality :) you guys seem so nice and warm have my favorite fall dessert, there aren’t many of you but I love you

464 notes · View notes

steve-hen-grant · 3 months

Text

Pas de deux (Jake Lockley x reader ) 🌙🩰

A/N: So! Kinda my first fic? Trying to exercise my writing skills. (You won’t believe how many times I had to just write “excersize” for autocorrect to save me.) So I hope y’all can enjoy the product of my practice!

In a previous post, I mentioned Jake crying while watching ballet. But what I meant to say was I had already developed a fic to this very concept. Needed the confidence to post it- which the reception to the first post got! It said Swan Lake, but for the plot’s conflict it’s Nutcracker.

Warnings: Fluff, mild comfort, reference to MK lore but you can pretend it isn’t, reference to Tchaikovsky mourning his sister, No use of Y/N, may be read as the POV of Layla, or yourself, mentions of Marc and Steven, no direct use of Spanish but reference to Jake speaking it, Reader may or may not know Spanish, it’s ambiguous this way for a self insert!, and again, my first full fan fiction. That is a warning. Surprisingly unserious. implied that narrator and the moon guys are visiting the US for this show.

Gender Neutral reader, but with uncomfortable formal shoes because they plague us all no matter

Word count: the word counter website broke so let me know when you get down there kk

You and Jake go to the Opera house in downtown Chicago. However, the loyal servant of the Moon God reacts unexpectedly…

Hours earlier, Jake struggled with his tie while I mulled over walking into the opera house together. His dark mustache furled as I helped arrange the black fabric and romanticized the pair of us strolling down the Chicago street: dressed to the nines, my arm in his, with the Christmas lights illuminating our path to the theater. Jake refused, mumbling something about how he didn’t want to make me walk longer in formal shoes than I had to. Knowing how I wouldn’t say anything, refusing to complain or burden the evening, until my Achilles tendons were shot by the time we got back to the hotel.

Among the three of them, Jake’s love language was having foresight to make life as accommodated and comfortable. But he forgets that he has a place in it.

Right now, in the brisk December evening, I trotted towards the warmly lit-refuge of the Civic Opera House. Jake dropped me off directly in front, rolling away to park his sleek Rolls Royce Phantom somewhere secure.

The exterior was like that of most concrete high-riser buildings. Though at ground level, in stark contrast, a sculpted arc entrance stood on the corner of the street. A light snow casted over the figures shaped into the stone. Tall preview posters displayed the principal dancer for the evening: the sugar plum fairy.

My pace towards the ticket booth was quick in the biting cold. The Opera house clerk smiled.

“Reservations under… Spector?”

“No- wait, yes. Yes.”

At my hesitation, I was rightfully earned a disconcerted expression. Marc must have booked the tickets. Before the words left her mouth, Jake appeared to save the day. Showing his- or Marc’s- ID. The clerk was satisfied and gave us two red tickets for entree. Jake took my arm in his, like a Highschool couple in a 50s movie. Between the regal opera house, the way he supports my arm, and opens the car door- truly old fashioned.

“Thanks, Marc,” I teased. He nudged me with his arm.

“Oh please, he made Steven book them,” Jake took off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket. We handed our tickets off, and at last, we were on our way through marble floors and high ceilings to find seating.

Maybe that’s why we both enjoyed viewings in this specific opera house. It was completed in 1929, yet shined as brightly as ever. Velvet red fabrics and amber blown lights. If you weren’t careful, you could become easily motivated to write a romanticized novel.

In a world of my own, I don’t notice Jake looking over my face. But he wasn’t appreciating the interior of the architecture. Maybe the exterior of me.

Some hors d’oeuvres later, we situated in a balcony, closest to the stage. Jake insisted this would be ‘the best spot in the house’. From the balcony overview, patterns in the snow droplet’s sequence could be figured into the shape of snowflakes. Once again, Jake’s love language would make the evening special, by meticulous design. Jake’s prior knowledge of ballet was limited, yet his relationship to the music goes back.

No one would assume that, from what meets the eye. Even if you knew of his nightly servitude to Khonshu- there was less reason to believe he keeps a special mix of Tchaikovsky’s Greatest in his car’s dash. His work isn’t easy, and who doesn’t wind down to music? An avatar to the god of the moon is no exception.

Live orchestra has become a small thing for us. One that Marc chuffs at and Steven… would probably like to be apart of.

The elevated booth was tailored to the best view possible of the tilted stage. Below, forms of people moved to their seats, shed overcoats, and checked the time. Soon, the red curtains would pull apart to reveal the iconic home of the Stahlbaum’s, and delicate Clara center stage. It was a matter of time, and based on Jake’s mild leg bounce, not soon enough. I place a hand over his palm, steadying his nervous habit to a somber sway.

INTERMISSION

We returned to our secluded seats from the main area. Maybe or maybe not, pocketing some cheese squares and fancy crackers in napkins. Jake put his arm over the back of my seat and smirked, “You think I could do that?”

“Do what?”

“The dancing,” He grinned like a ferret. I pause for a moment to process the idea literally. You know what? Maybe. I’ve stayed in the car while Marc or Steven took care of their missions. From what I’ve seen, Moonknight is pretty agile. Mr. Knight is comparably a Gymnast. Making- often unnecessary- flips and turns over bullets and blades.

“Try asking Khonshu when you can take classes- conveniently between delivering justice.”

To which, Jake snickers. He takes his contraband-horderve from the lobby and speaks, “Oh yeah, it will happen. I’ll just borrow Steven’s tutu.” Jake looks aloft and grins, for a moment, it’s like I can hear his alter too.

“THOSE CLASSES WERE A ONE-OFF TIME!”

The second act. Clara and the Nutcracker prince have crossed the forest into a world of her childlike creation. Her and the prince are welcomed by flowers, candy, and snow. It seems like the defeat of the rat king would be the last of the room’s worries. Except for me.

Nearing a majestic finale, the nutcracker prince shares a dance with her majesty, the sugar plum fairy. He takes her hand and holds it, as her powder pink leg ascends. But this isn’t what Jake is thinking about. His eyes are hardly on the scene below, but he is paying attention to the music. The Nutcracker, Op. 71, Act II: No. 14a, Pas de deux. He holds his breath for a moment. A small gesture I might have missed if he didn’t drop my hand when he does so. I glanced at him, not wanting to disturb his fixation to the show.

And maybe I didn’t want to disturb the way his locks messily fell on his forehead and ears. He’s a gentleman, so he wouldn’t wear his hat into the event. But by removing it, the bunched hair underneath fell loosely. Marc and Steven were supposedly relentless about on the way downtown, if his passive looks to the rear view mirror meant anything.

Does a family of birds live in your hat, mate?

Cmon, Jake, everytime I get the body I have to run a comb through it.

After Jake lowered his hands from applause, he took mine in his again. As if he six whole minutes without it was too much. I press my thumb into his knuckles. He pulls my hand closer to him, holding it totally casually to his heart.

The Finale had wrapped up in a roar of an audience. The evening’s dancers made their bows and the orchestra had begun to pack up their bows and sheet music. Neither me nor Jake were one for crowds, but fortunately, the box seats were close enough to a flight of stairs that crew members likely took. We stood and peeked down the flight that turned around the ivory painted walls.

Jake held my arm and smirked, “Do you want to take a shortcut?”

I gave him a puzzled look. “That way? Are you sure there is an exit? We might get a meet and greet with the rat king,” I half-joke. Jake grins and his eyes light up at that risk.

My eyes narrow,

“You want to meet the rat king don’t y-“

“Yes.”

It’s Christmas. Might as well give Jake the gift of following through one of his mischievous schemes- together. Jake is laughing and throughly unserious as we move closer to the landing of the stairwell. I slide my hand down the glossy railing, “If we find this rat thing-“

“When. When we find the rat thing,” Jake interrupts.

I pause and continue, “Yes, my apologies. When we find the rat, are you going to valiantly slay it, and save me?”

Jake thinks for a moment, stopping on the stairs. He responds, “I’ve fought weirder.” I nod agreeably as we continue hand in hand. But he mumbled something I couldn’t hear, perhaps some Spanish intonations, but too low to react to.

But I had a pretty good idea what he meant to say out loud. Jake will show his affection in careful planning, a car ride anywhere, but not typically his words. In those tender instances where he has to resort to sweet nothings, he expresses it in Spanish. The words flow so naturally that they aren’t being filtered by a process of translation. Just his feelings, as they are.

I smile, and pull him into my arm tighter. It was more than likely he was protectively, lovingly ranting about how well he would protect me. How he would welcome the chance to prove it. In the dimly lit corridor we found ourselves in, we located an exit door and push it. I recall the December air and hold his arm closer.

Jake holds up his keys and presses down on his buttons. Immediately after leaving the back door, we are greeted by the flashing headlights of his car in a neighboring lot. Jake looks at my face of surprise and laughs, “You thought I was going to let you walk so far in those shoes?”

While in the car, on the way back to the flat, Swan Lake plays over the radio. I clutch my coat in the warm embrace of the car’s heating system. Jake is tapping his finger along while letting cars through, but he stops as the piece ends and the next begins. The Pas de deux. This time, I don’t miss my chance to ask. My hand grazes his leather coated arm, “You alright?” Jake keeps a deadpan look through the droplets on the windshield, blinking several times. I lean in a touch closer, “Jake?”

“Uhm, I just read where, you know, what’s-his-face, wrote this piece for his sister who passed. It uhm…” Jake, agitated by the way his mouth wants to curl into a grimace in front of me, lays his arm down in a finalizing gesture. He was done talking about it, not without losing clear vision while driving. I hold his gloved hand, and without thinking, hold it to his chest. His shoulders finally lowered. The light turned green. The music filling the gentle silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌙~~~~~~~~~~~~

#moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockely x reader #fluff #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader

90 notes · View notes