#but those girls are pure chaos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taintedcigs · 5 months

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˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson

summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.

authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!

and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol. 1 here

Fuzzy.

Exactly how your mind and body felt.

You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.

King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.

He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.

And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.

Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.

You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.

Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.

It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu.

Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.

He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.

He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.

Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.

They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.

and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time.

Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless.

He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees.

So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him?

“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this.

“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips.

He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him.

“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk.

You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before.

“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.

Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact.

The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing?

“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle.

“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.”

Eddie almost lost it at that.

Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even.

“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk.

Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him?

“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town.

Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?

“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!?

“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?

“You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again.

“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you.

He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs.

“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool.

Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove.

His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy.

Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you.

You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?

“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”

“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed.

Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you?

A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.

“D-don’t!”

“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.

“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”

A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.”

Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?”

And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp.

Eddie.

These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this.

They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party.

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk.

Cocky bastard.

You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes.

“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you.

“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.

“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it.

“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink.

“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no.

You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it.

You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.”

“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back.

Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you.

。°。°。°。°。°

“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.

Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.

Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.

“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.

They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too.

“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence

“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.”

Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.”

You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!

And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more.

And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.

“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you.

Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked.

You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy.

They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them.

Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?”

“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert.

“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff.

Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes.

He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it.

“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging.

“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you.

“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something.

You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing.

“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh.

He needed both of you.

You needed both of them.

And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy.

Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!”

“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world.

“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.

“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all.

“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin.

“See you later, boys.”

。°。°。°。°。°

“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it.

“You think Michael Myers is hot?”

“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.

“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”

With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle.

He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips.

He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.”

You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”

“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him.

It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise.

Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his.

Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.

“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth.

“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them.

You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time.

And both of their dominance.

You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good.

“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you.

A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is.

Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you.

And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely.

“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect.

“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need.

Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display.

He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you.

And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully.

It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it.

His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out.

He’s perfect.

“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?”

You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.”

And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere.

He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.

“No panties?”

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses.

Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you.

Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect.

But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever.

“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in.

With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.”

He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?”

He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you.

You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.

It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.

“Mhmm, only for you, baby.”

Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls.

His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines.

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging.

He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls.

“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you.

It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough.

You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough.

“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming.

And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge.

You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good.

And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.

You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze.

“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed.

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.

“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need.

You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.”

“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there.

You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel.

“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,”

So your plan was working.

“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it.

You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore.

A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.

He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.

Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked.

He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this.

“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.

You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face.

With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight.

Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect.

You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it.

He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk.

You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it.

“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before.

Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him.

“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.

“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his.

His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away.

“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements.

“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size.

“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.

He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him.

You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it.

“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming.

“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone.

“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers.

“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.

Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction.

It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind.

This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you.

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you.

He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are.

He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode.

You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.

“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.

“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release.

He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him.

He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened.

You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle.

“What for?”

“To leave, pretty boy.”

“B-but we just-”

He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it.

“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.

Ruined by him.

“There’s this band—”

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly.

“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued.

“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips.

“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you.

“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?

“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face.

“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.

He would do anything you asked him to.

Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.

But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.

How were you supposed to hold yourself back?

。°。°。°。°。°

“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time.

Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!”

“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous.

And he was.

“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.”

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning.

His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie?

“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.

Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.

And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.”

“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve.

“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Neither can I!”

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.

“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”

Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?

“Dude, do you realize what that means?”

“What?” Eddie inquired.

“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”

“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous.

“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you.

“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?”

#steve harrington x reader #king!steve x reader #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #eddie munson

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azsazz · 4 months

Text

A Snowy Starfall

Daddy!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,003

Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”

“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies.

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection.

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness.

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms.

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his.

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien.

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.”

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words.

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.”

He winces, “Sorry love.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”

#daddy!az #daddy!azriel #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

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dev1lm4n · 9 months

Text

all glory

masterlist | kofi (support me here!)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel has been feeling insecure, finding it hard to come to terms that he's indeed aging. tommy suggests a clever solution: a post-apocalyptic glory hole

word count: 4.8k of pure filth

warnings: minors dni (18+), post-outbreak, joel is 56 here hehe hot old men, insecurities, glory hole, fingering, unsafe piv, slight breeding kink, no pregnancy stuff tho cuz im terrified of that, reader calls him sir, pet name (darling)

note: i decided to create a kofi bcs im a broke college student lol. anyways hope yall enjoy this, do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :)

Joel Miller had always been a man of confidence.

Being left as a single father for Sarah at an early age, he’s been through thick and thin, trying his best to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to end up in one of those run-down shelters. But never once did he question his ability to attract women.

He’s always had it in him. With a mere glance from his expressive eyes, he can ensnare hearts and leave an everlasting impression on anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. Rugged masculinity and striking refinement; a deathly mix that kept girls swarming after him like bees. After the world descended into chaos, he’s not much different either. Perhaps the bone-deep trauma had left him looking eternally exhausted with sunken eyebags, or that gray filaments started becoming a welcomed addition to his beard, but all in all he’s still charming.

He didn’t have to seek, because people seek for him. Joel had plenty of erotic rendezvous in times where society crumbled and the rule of law eroded, more so now that everyday could be his last and he didn’t have the privilege to take it slow like a true Southern gentleman. He’s done it everywhere. Inside a stuffy closet while hiding from a clicking monstrosity, behind a thin wall while her husband sat cluelessly on the other side, and even taking sexual compensation for his little business. Joel Miller wasn’t a saint. Neither he one for God and he’d like to make it obvious.

Nowadays though, within the tall foreboding walls of Jackson City, that type of attention has faded away. He’s no longer getting those longing stares from across the floor, no longer being begged to corrupt just for some extra wad of cards, no longer being flirted and fawned over like a goddamn stud. Joel didn’t have any problem with it at first. He’s growing old. Instead of those naughty strands of white peeking out of his head, he’s now a complete mix of salt and pepper. Instead of just having a fun smile line, forehead rolls and crows’ feet are now imprinted deep into every crevice. Joel wasn’t the man he used to be.

He’s weathered away, he thought, unsuited for fun and adventure.

Perhaps it had something to do with his daughter as well. Even when Ellie’s not from his actual blood, everyone in town viewed her that way. He’s her father. Thus, everyone seemed to perceive and treat him as merely a father and not as an actual person that has his own needs and wants. Joel loved his daughter. Terribly so in ways he couldn’t decipher. A part of him has made up his mind that this would be how he should spend the rest of his life: in celibacy. Though the retirement of his sexual and romantic life has slowly taken a toll towards his self-esteem. Tommy, who’s always known to be rather slow and imperceptive, was surprisingly the first one to take notice of his gradual change.

“Maria told me you might be here.”

Tommy’s gruff voice brought him out of his trance. Joel looked up, meeting the familiar figure crouch to get into his little workshop. It was his newfound hobby these days, becoming a hermit and isolating himself from the community. He’d craft a wooden figure or two each night while he relived each and every one of his memories. Good and bad. Of death and of birth. Then by the end of the night he’d feel mildly satisfied with a wooden sculpture shaped like memorabilia from the old world. Joel couldn’t admit it outloud, but insecurity had taken over him. It festered deep into his soul that he couldn’t even bear looking at himself in the mirror anymore or present himself to society.

“Yeah, just..” he paused to ponder on a better way to answer. “Just doin’ my own thing.”

“You skippin’ dinner again?” Tommy’s curiosity sounded oddly suspicious, enough that Joel already knew he’s about to say something obnoxious or entirely uncalled for. The older quirked his thick eyebrows in return.

“Made myself my own plate,” Joel cocked his head towards where a lone plate sat. Judging from the crimson stain smeared on top, it must’ve been one of those canned pastas that he picked out.

“Brother..” Tommy started out, visibly nervous of how his brother would take it. “Is there something wrong?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“No, not that I could think of,” Joel hummed. “I ain’t bitten or anythin’, why are ya asking such a dumb question anyway?”

“You’re just different these days,” Tommy reasoned with a small frown. “You barely come out of your house and if you do, you’re huddled up in this place, carving things for hours on end.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to be alone. Is there?” he challenged.

“No, but you’re.. different. Almost like your mind’s troubled for once.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong, Tommy,” he insisted.

Joel was actively avoiding the accusations. He stood up from where he’s been perched upon for hours on end, bringing his half-carved wooden slab with him to set it on one of the displays he had. He’s grown quite the collection. It’s been going on far longer than he’d expected, the crippling fear of being undesirable and hideous, and it brought up an immense feeling of embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly admit such things to Tommy, could he? Tommy was different from him. His first child was on its way to be birthed, but girls still chatter about his charming smile and strong figure. They’d still gossip and make dirty guesses about his size. How long he endured such activities, the position he enjoyed best, and how sweet he was to his partner.

Tommy couldn’t possibly understand his fear.

“You can’t help me even if I told ya,” he grumbled.

“Put some trust in me, will ya?” Tommy chuckled as he spun around his seat to follow Joel’s every move. “Tell me what’s troublin’ you, big brother.”

“They don’t look at me the same way.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The ladies,” Joel muttered.

His words were barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as if he saw the phenomenon as something humiliating, up to the point where he couldn’t even look Tommy in the eye in fear of having him laugh. He’s never talked about this with anyone else. It didn’t help that he truly didn’t have anyone to talk to in general aside from the few acquaintances his brother introduced him to and well.. Ellie. But none of them seem to be the right person to talk to regarding this.

Regarding his failure in masculinity. His unspoken worries that he didn’t have any of the strong, chiseled jawline or any of the tightly packed abdomen with six separate squares to admire. He’s grown old and weak. Five years ago, he could’ve probably still sweet-talk his way into a woman's heart, but now he couldn’t even look one in the eye without the fear of being put to shame.

“They still do, Joel,” Tommy assured him. He’s telling the truth. Joel knew that Tommy didn’t have it in him to lie, he’d have sounded like a strangled bird or a squeaky dog’s toy if he did. But his mind couldn’t believe it one bit.

“I don’t know, Tommy..” he muttered. “They don’t look at me the same way. They don’t look at me at all even.. and I’m fine with that I 'spose. I ain’t a whorin’ bastard who couldn’t accept that he’s agin’..”

“But they do, Joel.”

“I’m old,” he sucked in the air. “Lately there are these moments where I.. where I’d look a girl in the eye and all I could feel was humiliation.”

“Humiliation?”

“Like they’re lookin’ at me as if I’m some.. some sort of repulsive creature,” he whispered. “I feel like I could hear ‘em gigglin’ with their girlfriends on how shameless I am.”

Tommy was deduced into silence. Time ticked by as he cranked up his brain to figure out the best way to aid his older brother out of his misery. It’s all in his head, Tommy knew that Joel knew that as well, but it’s easier patching up an oozing wound than a troubled mind. He brought his hand together on top of his jeans as he waited for the younger to make another comment, whether of comfort or of a harsh reality.

“I’ll offer you a solution,” Tommy spoke up. “But you gotta promise not to lose your head over it.”

“It ain’t drugs, is it?”

“No, no..” Tommy chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m open to anythin’” Joel dropped his arms to his side as he curiously eyed Tommy.

“Have you ever heard of a glory hole?”

Joel’s expression contorted in such a way that the younger Miller couldn’t possibly read what he’s thinking any longer.

“I ain’t goin’ outside those borders just to go to some sketchy brothel, Tommy. That’d be pathetic.”

“Well, the thing is this whole operation ain’t sketchy,” Tommy reasoned. “The girls were tested and approved by the local doctor before..”

“Local doctor? You tellin’ me this is happenin’ within Jackson?”

“I operate it, Joel,” he sighed, knowing he’s about to be bombarded with a handful of questions. “And before you ask, no this ain’t considered prostitution as there’s no material exchange.”

“You mean..”

“Yes. The girls do it for free. Volunteers. They do it for their own pleasure and I help make their dreams come true.”

Joel looked at his own brother as if he was a mad man. Who wouldn’t? When he’s just told him that they had an actual glory hole installed without most of the public knowing. Or perhaps they knew, they were just not talking about it in front of Joel.

“Ten to twelve. There’s a small house across the sheep field. One girl every Friday night.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Maria knows about this?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“No, but it’s better off she doesn’t.”

Joel felt his morals set askew for a second. This sounded like a terrible idea, despite the fact that he’s confirmed it himself that it’d be the safest a glory hole could possibly be. He scratched his beard and took it into deep consideration.

In the quiet stillness of a winter’s night, the world was wrapped in a soft, white blanket of snow. The moon hung low in the dark sky - a beacon towards those who chose to travel in the deepest hours of nighttime. Joel blew puffs of warm air onto his gloved fingertips, hoping it’d satiate the coolness that made his joints ache and his skin itch. The air was crisp and biting, each breath producing a frosty cloud which quickly amalgamated into the air. He watched as gentle snowflakes, alike to elegant ballet dancers, fell from the heavens up above and twirled and swirled into an intricate pattern. He’s been waiting for way too long.

“So what are ya sayin’? Are you gonna let me take you tomorrow night?” Tommy broke the silence.

Tommy promised to meet him on the edge of the sheep field, where they’d herd livestocks all throughout the warmer times of the year, but he’s yet to see his tall nose and dark hair from any of the cardinal directions. He’s been waiting for too long to keep the same mindset Tommy’s trained him into, that this was simply a beneficial exchange for every party involved and that he shouldn’t feel shameful for something so instinctive. Waiting gave him time to weigh out the cons, how this was naturally an act of debauchery that wounded both his moral values and beliefs. He ain’t a God preacher, but he’s sure to keep some of those Southern manners.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

None of Tommy’s ideas are ever well thought out. Starting from his sudden gravitation towards the military, to his desires to hand over his entire life towards the Fireflies, and now this. He knew his younger brother wasn’t the brightest of men, but creating an entire glory hole to keep the town’s morale up might be the stupidest one he’s heard yet. Especially when Maria’s not aware of it. He feared for the day when the beans spilled out of its jar, but tonight wasn’t that day. During the time in which he contemplated his decisions, Joel didn’t notice the crunching of snow against thick boots. Tommy was here and he looked far too calm for a self-made procucer.

Tommy beckoned him to follow the path his boots had made. Joel sucked in some of that painfully cold air into his lungs, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started trailing along. There were a few street lamps across the field, a ruddy glow emanating from them as they were adorned with a light dusting of snow. He kept his guards up while he scanned through the whistling field of crop, that traumatized part of him always keeping in check of abrupt movements and unsettling sceneries. After a quiet walk for a good three minutes, they finally arrived. The house fronts looked dark enough, and the windows even darker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs.

There was snow piling up outside as well, dirtier ones whose last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons. He scrutinized over the tracks, wondering if this was meant to be used as a makeshift grain tower. If it was, then Tommy must’ve been a great scheming asshole to turn such a place into his own little heaven. Not one soul was around, which confused Joel even more. Wasn’t this supposed to be a public glory hole? Weren’t it supposed to be disgustingly packed with sweating men, adorned with walls covered in left-over spurts of cum and other bodily fluids, and smelled like sex itself?

Joel continued to pursue Tommy even when he’s overly skeptical about this entirely new scene. His boots were scuffed as he was dragging his feet through the front door, a fight against his defense system that’s begging him to flee out the door at the unfamiliarity. The establishment consisted of a long narrow hallway that eventually led up to an imposing door. Wooden, large, and mysterious.

To his surprise, what was beyond that door wasn’t some tacky sex dungeon with rattling chains and leather whips, it was a modest looking box. Square, he’d assume one meter wide and half a meter tall. He took in the wood it was made from. His pointer finger slowly traced the circumference out of habit. Oak, he concluded, making it sturdy and cool even in the warmer weather. What he failed to notice from the get-go was a pair of legs that were stretched open, chained onto the wall from the considerably-sized gap. Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach, he forgot for an entire minute what he was planning to do, and he’s starting to get cold feet.

“Darlin’, I’ve got someone for you,” Tommy cooed.

“You do, Tommy?”

Normally, people acquire hobbies in order to soothe their brief but occasional boredom, though you have discovered a unique way to tackle long hours of the night. This brilliant discovery of yours was birthed from a fated moment. One where you accidentally stumble across the conversation Tommy had with one of his patrol friends. It began a fantasy in your head. One you didn’t believe could come true until you overheard a passionate storytelling session one of the barmaids gave their friend. Only then did you gather enough courage to talk to Tommy about it. Despite his initial disapproval, saying things like you look too good and gentle to be doing such things, you managed to convince him with a week's worth of nagging.

“Mhm, one of my good friends here,” he hummed. “You’ll let him use you like a good fucking girl, won’t you?”

Goosebumps trailed from your backbone down to where your legs spread wide. Your nervousness made you flinch, effectively causing your legs to rattle against the metal restraints.

“Yes, I will, Tommy.”

When did you get so.. obedient?

“Alright then. I’ll see you in um.. twenty?”

“Thirty,” the foreign voice spoke up, masculine with a twinge of accent.

“Thirty it is.”

The entire room went quiet for an entire minute, only then did you finally hear the door slammed back shut. You swallowed back the throbbing fear in your heart, pushing back those persistent thoughts constantly warning you of the dangers. Even if you trusted Tommy with all your life, you didn’t trust the random strangers Tommy’s picked out. How could you trust them when you didn’t know who they were for sure? They could’ve been someone you see on the daily. The friendly guards, the cafeteria guy who’d always beam a sweet smile your way and give out more bread than standard, or even.. Tommy’s hunk of a brother. The same one who wouldn’t even spare you a look when you’re obviously sending heart eyes his way.

“Darlin’ is your name, ain’t that right?”

There was something so.. alluring about his voice. The type that makes your knees buckle inevitably, despite your best efforts to push it apart.

“That’s right,” you squeaked out.

“Darlin’, it’s been a long long time since I’ve done this, so let me indulge in you alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out unsurely.

Your eyes instinctively followed the direction of the hushed voice, but all you could see from the dim box was a piece of dark fabric that was hung from above the hole. It was to keep your identity a secret so that the patrons across from you could only see you from the belly button down. Though now you felt more inclined than ever to pull on the draping and meet this man’s eyes. Your thoughts soon diminished when you felt a large hand over your inner thighs. Nowhere dangerous, just resting below where your kneecaps sat. You closed your eyes to try and envision the kind of hands touching you.

Were they soft and unsullied like a baby’s bum? Or were they rough and ridged with years of work?

That large hand traveled down South, inching with an irritatingly slow pace down towards where you ached the most. He was a fair man. He treated both of your thighs in the same manner before the two gathered together in a v-shape over your cotton panties. You wondered if you should’ve worn something more enticing, something which suited a person like you - someone willing to spread their legs for a true stranger. But the man on the other side didn’t seem to have a problem. He didn’t seem like he was bothered by the simplicity of your presentation, instead he was keen on pressing his thumb down the center.

They were the latter.

His fingers were textured and it felt too good to be true. At the briefest touch, you followed after his movement, hips reaching further up to chase after his departing touch. You whined. Frustrated that he’s cruel enough to press your sensitive clit and leave you all hot and bothered. He let out a deep chuckle, one that came out from the depth of his stomach as he placed his thumb back where it belonged. Your hole clenched and unclenched at the stimulating sensation. Your cotton panties seemed to be a great aid for your needy clit. It felt similar to grinding over a pillow, just this time, it felt a lot more real and animated.

“How long have you been doin’ this, darlin’?”

“Doin’ what, sir?”

So polite. It’s laughable the fact that you’re so soft spoken. Your lips spilled out a gentle moan as his thumb dug deeper into that sensitive spot.

“Lettin’ strangers fuck you,” he was frank with his words that’s for sure.

“This is my first time.. in the box that is,” your voice cracked almost immediately under pressure. “Been thinking of this for a long long time though.”

The gruff man hummed noncommittally as he continued to please you with his thumb. You used to be shy when it comes to being reactive during intercourse, but with the box, it almost felt like you could finally be your true primal self with your utmost carnal desires. He slowly eased your stained panties to the side once he saw an increasingly growing wetness, knowing that it’s time to move on to his next way of torture. Your pussy was exposed to the cool air immediately, it felt like the air was nipping at the sensitive skin all around. He took his two fingers - his middle and pointer finger being his favorite choice despite the controversy - and slowly dragged it atop the slick canal.

“A pretty girl like you gettin’ all wet from a little touchin’,” he chided. “You haven’t been fucked well or somethin’?”

What a considerate man. He called you pretty when he could barely tell what you look like.

“No, maybe, I-” you were flustered. You’ve never had to exchange proper talk when someone’s touching your dirty, wet cunt. “None of Jackson’s men did good. That’s why I hoped..”

Your voice trailed off into a garble of nonsense when he teased at your entrance, trying to decide whether you’re soaked enough to push a finger in comfortably. You whined, louder this time, as your legs fought against the uncomfortable metal cuffs wrapped around your ankle. He decided to play nice for once and made your dreams come true by inserting that thick finger of his. Fingering has never felt good for you, it always felt like an intrusion rather than a welcomed feeling, but he’s making it feel like heaven on earth.

“Hoped a stranger would fuck me well enough,” you took awhile to finish that statement.

He let out one of those noises of disapproval, at your skewed moral direction perhaps or at the tone of desperation your voice must’ve let out. You could only suck in a shallow breath when he started making proper, continuous motions with his finger. He pushed upwards to poke the tip of his finger onto that squishy part, playing around to find out where exactly made you react the most. You loved how he’s patient. You’re half-expecting the men to just stuff their cocks in you like you’re some sex doll instead of taking their time, which you don’t mind either. Half the pleasure was from being treated like nothing.

“Dirty gal,” he degraded, which you found both surprising and exciting. “Just wanted her pussy stuffed with any cock she could have, hm?”

Your hips thrusted up at a larger interruption. This time, the man managed to insert two of his thick fingers inside your eased cunt. He twisted it one-hundred-eighty degrees to the left, then back to the right, before he curled it in a come-here motion. The motion had left you dumb. A combination of ah ah ah’s and unfinished pleads for him to keep still. The man never once fully removed his fingers out of you. He’d slowly pull back to only have a single knuckle stuck inside before pushing it all the way in once more. For once, someone didn’t finger you like you’re a pizza dough waiting to be pounded.

“A-ah, sir. I really.. mmh- I really like that,” you moaned out shamelessly. “Feels really good in my.. in my pussy.”

“You like what, darlin’?”

“Like your fingers.. fingers in my ah- ah pussy!” you whined when he deepened his reach by rotating his wrist upwards. “Something- fuck- something’s coming! Please.. Please don’t sto-”

You warned him like a goddamn virgin and there it was, you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the way your pussy squelched around his finger at the new wave of sticky fluids. The noises were filthy and lewd that you were embarrassed for the first time that night. It coated your throbbing cunt and slowly ebbed out of your hole, dribbling down onto the wooden floor boards under. Strings of almost translucent thickness proof of his success. It’s pretty. The way you gaped around his fingers, tightened and relaxed at his fingers that still kept you full.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

He must be experienced, because he was quick to rub your clit precisely as you went through the throes of orgasm. His broad palm never missed where that bundle of nerves were, until you’re dripping all over the place. Only when you’re right towards the end did he land a small smack atop your pussy, keeping pressure where your womb is to maintain the pleasure for as long as you could. It felt like this wasn’t a shit place for once. It felt like this stranger could surely turn the flesh-eating monsters into a field of rainbows and flowers from how good he’s making you feel.

“You taste sweet,” he muttered. “Someone ever told you that?”

It took you a while to notice that his fingers weren’t there to stuff you full. He was busy tasting you. You could imagine him on the other side of the room, rough fingers deep in his mouth, drenched in your arousal. The thought made you squirm, growing wet once more. You shook your head as his hand slid back up. His fingers ran over your clit with one long stroke before they stayed there. His thumb sat right atop the throbbing spot, unmoving.

"Perfect little thing, ain't ya?” he asked, and you nodded, your muscles tense as anticipation ran high. "Gonna fill you up real nice."

As soon as the dull tip of his cock prodded against your entrance, your whole body convulsed. Tears slowly crept into your eyes, frustrated, you might as well cry out a pathetic plea if he kept on stalling. Your palms banged flat against the side of the box. Overwhelmed and on the verge of tears when he purposefully missed your weeping hole. His length slid upwards, the warm tip rubbed against your clit from below before it shied away once more. Your toes curled and he must’ve taken the hint from behind the curtains.

The perfect stranger pushed himself up to where his mushroom-like tip ended, allowing you to adjust to the dimensions of his cock before he eased himself deeper.

You let out a strained moan.

You almost bump the top of your head on the oak boards when he forced his way in. His cock was fully inside you at last. You were ecstatic. Eyes shut close as you bit into your bottom lip, flesh tearing beneath your canines. It was too much all of a sudden. Too good. Too large. Too full. You could hear the loud squelching noise your spongy hole made as he pulled back and stuffed himself back in.

“Fuck,” he groaned silently. “Don’t squeeze around me, darlin’. You're gonna get me in big trouble.”

He chuckled and fuck did it sound so hot.

You felt his fingers gently reach for the width of your hips. His grip was tight and harsh as he guided your every movement with them. He thrusted like a man on a shooting range, with much precision and prowess. You liked this. Liked feeling as if you’re just a doll for people to use and dump their loads in, especially when it's for someone like him. His cock made you writhe and fight against the metal cuffs holding your legs up. Eager to have him speed up to meet your desires yet he was persistent in keeping a stable speed. The sensation was growing. Slowly but surely.

“A-ah.. mmph.. oh God!”

“God ain’t here to save you, darlin’. It’s just this old man right here,” he cooed crudely.

He made sure to keep you full at all times. Never once did his perfectly-sized cock leave your sloppy hole, it just kept on twitching and growing in size with the help of your warm embrace. “You like this, don’t ya?”

“Oh- oh yes. I like it. Love your..,” he stopped your lewd confession by placing his thumb back atop your once neglected clit, drawing lazily with what’s left of your wetness. You could feel him starting to seep. A tinge of his own arousal mixing in with yours. “Cock! Love your c- cock.”

His heavy pants started to intensify in volume, such a lovely melody when combined with your pathetic whimpers. He’s close.

“Gonna cum in you, darlin’” he muttered out breathlessly. “Gonna make sure you’re all fucked out with my cum.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when you’re on a highway to heaven. Your little hole tightened, so eager to milk him dry.

“Yeah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“O-oh.. oh yes. Please.. fuck,”

“Please?”

“Please fill me up.”

His tip started oozing out ribbons after ribbons of cum, quickly filling you up relentlessly. Though he hasn’t stopped bottoming himself up into you. His load sloshed around, coated his length a perfect milky shade, and dribbled down your rear deliciously. Did you really just let a complete stranger fill you up to the top? Did you truly just let him pour his seed up your needy hole?

Maybe you did.

And maybe it’s reckless.

But oddly enough, you don’t feel too bad about it.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #tlou fic #tlou #the last of us

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a-random-weeb · 6 months

Note

Can I request yandere fyodor, Akutagawa and chuuya with a fem crybaby reader? Like they don’t try to escape or break any rules they just sit in the corner and cry out of fear while trembling.

Oh, that sounds kind of fun!

Characters: Akutagawa, Chuuya, Fyodor

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Akutagawa:

•He always feels so bad

•He's not as good with words, so he just hugs you

•After he kidnaps you, he feels incredibly guilty

•He doesn't like how scared you are

•He tries to look on the bright side, at least you obey him?

•He has no idea what to do while you're shaking and crying in the corner, so he just kneels down infront of you and pats your head, kissing your forehead

•He tries to be really sweet, but probably accidentally glares at you while you're crying, making you cry harder

•At this point he's panicking he tries to pay you again, but pats you a little too hard and hits you 😭

•He attempts to apologize, but don't forget, it's also Akutagawa so...

•He apologizes but it seems like he's not really sorry because of his apathetic face (he is sorry)

•So the whole thing would end in chaos, him panicking and you in tears, but that doesn't mean he'll ever let you leave

*ੈ✩‧˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧˚*ੈ✩‧˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧☆

Chuuya:

•For the first little bit, he just comforts you

•He'll kill whoever made you cry

•Or, if you have anxiety or something, he'll just hold you to his chest and comfort you

•It doesn't take long for him to kidnap you though

•He can't stand to see you so sad all the time

•Don't worry though, he'll protect you from this cruel world!

•He takes you to his mansion

•He locks you in the basement

•He planned ahead, he got you a gorgeous room down there, a nice bed of your favorite color, cute plushies (if you like those), all the accessories and jewelry you could possibly want, and whatever decor you like

•He hates how scared you are at first, of he wanted to hurt you, he wouldn't have gotten you this gorgeous room

•No, no! Don't try to get away! Why are you so scared? He won't hurt you!

•He holds you close as you cry and sob

•He hates being the reason you're crying

•The worst part is, you're being good! You haven't done anything to deserve how afraid you are!

•He absolutely hates how sad and scared you are, but He'll never let you go

°•.*✮⋆˙⋆｡°✩°•.*✮⋆˙⋆｡°✩°•.*✮⋆˙⋆｡°✩°•.*✮⋆˙⋆｡°✩°•.

Fyodor:

•At first, he just find you an annoying, weak, crybaby

•He's low-key mad he fell for you

•Eventually though, his views on you change

•You're so nice to people, you're too pure for this world, and so, he kidnaps you

•He likes to play around with you

•He see's how hard he can make you cry, how to cheer you up, what you act like when you're at your lowest, ect.

•He's not purely cruel with this, he also likes to see how long he can be around you and be nice before you cry over something

•He loves how obedient you are

•If you're crying over something stupid, or that he deems dumb, he'll just leave you there to cry depending on how good you've been

•Since you're typically obedient, he does sometimes comfort you when you're crying over dumb things

•If you're crying for an actual good reason he'll always comfort you

•Sometimes he feels bad for how much you cry, especially since you're such a 'good girl' as he calls you

•He doesn't often show he feels bad unless you pick up on the subtle, accidental hints he gives

°♪`⊹*ꕤ˚+.°♪`⊹*ꕤ˚+.°♪`⊹*ꕤ˚+.°♪`⊹*ꕤ˚+.°♪`⊹*ꕤ˚+.°

i hope you liked this! I had a lot of fun writing this

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fourmoony · 7 months

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟐)

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.4k

Summary: James, Sirius, and Remus are bested by Hope.

part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist

...

James is standing in the middle of the chaos surrounding your living room.

You’re just short of thirty seconds through the front door – the majority of which you spent kicking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack – and already, you miss the inside of the potion’s lab. You’ve been there all day, daydreaming about being at home. But now. Now, you wish you’d stayed behind with Lily. She’s high maintenance, sure. She’s bossy and full on about it because she’s currently heading the Order’s potion’s labs all over the country – she’s stressed. But Lily Evans is nowhere near as high maintenance as your boyfriend and his friends.

This, you should have known.

Remus and Sirius are bickering loudly over the sound of Hope’s high-pitched screaming. Remus is holding Hope, arms outstretched and a concerned look on his face, like he’s hesitant to have her near her in her current state. He looks panicked. Sirius is trying to strong arm your daughter into a nappy, but she’s kicking her legs so violently that you know he has no hope. He mutters something at Remus, but his voice is cheery and soothing – you suppose in attempt to keep Hope from getting any more violent. Remus huffs and tries lifting your screaming baby up, then down, as if bouncing her. She only cries more.

There are crumpled nappies scattered across the floor and a small bag of what you assume is used wipes – you’re thankful that at least those have been disposed of in a clean way. The fire is roaring, covered by the grate, and the room is far too warm – even for the middle of January. There are bright coloured toys on every surface and a kid’s broom taking up space on the single armchair nearest the kitchen. There’re half drunken milk bottles on the coffee table and half a jar of mashed potato and gravy puree, the spoon of which is sitting on a coaster, still covered in mush.

James’ eyes snap up the minute he nears your shaky intake of breath, and everything stops. His hands are full of a mix of crumpled nappies and baby toys, and his eyes are wide. His hair is messier than usual, a clear sign that he’s been running his hands through it in a fit of stress.

“Hey,” James breathes.

Remus and Sirius have frozen like children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. You bypass your boyfriend, eyes narrowed at Remus, who turns from Sirius and thrusts Hope toward you. You take her and immediately, she quiets. You hold her to your chest, hand gently rubbing the back of her head. Remus and Sirius physically release, both letting out a deep breath. James closes his eyes, enjoys the silence for a moment.

“James, pick up the nappies. Outside bin,” You point at James, and he springs into action, nodding enthusiastically, “Remus, toys in the box,” You point to the pink box Sirius made Hope that rests to the right of the fireplace, “Sirius, wash the bottles, and bin the puree.”

The three men spring into action around you while you mentally thank Lily for being so bossy and rubbing off on you. Hope is making quiet noises against your collar bone, and you melt. She’s ten months now, crawling and babbling non-stop It’s been challenging, balancing your work in the potion’s lab with James’ order missions whilst still being able to spend time with Hope together. James is absolutely positive she’s defying nature and biology and growing too fast. But you don’t mind. You’re in constant awe of your daughter and all the milestones she makes. You’d never admit it, but you cried the first time she crawled.

“Hey, sweet girl.” You mumble, lips pressed to Hope’s head.

Her hair is growing fast and dark. There’s enough to put in pigtails, now. She doesn’t have any in today. Simply because James cannot comprehend the idea of a hair tie. Hope tilts her head, bright blue eyes no longer filled with tears, but with wonder. It’s been seven months of being her mum, and your breath still hitches every time she looks at you with that babied wonderment, with that unwavering love and trust. She’s so beautiful, a gift you wonder every day what you ever did to deserve.

“She’s been a moody little witch, today,” Remus comments, launching crinkle books and teddy bears into the pink trunk as he walks around the room.

“She’s teething, I think.” You tell him.

You shift hope in your arms and reach for her nappy bag that’s been abandoned by the doorway into the living room. She wriggles a little when you set her down onto the changing table under the window – the changing table James has said he’ll take upstairs a million times and never has – but settles when you start to hum softly. With a clean nappy and a fresh set of pyjamas, Hope is a different baby. She’s calm and quiet, pliant in your arms when you lift her again to cradle her. Her eyes blink slowly, tiny lips pouted.

James and Sirius return at the same time, the latter wiping down a fresh bottle with a tea towel, collecting any spillage. He turns it over, dropping a bit on his wrist before passing it over, “Perfect temperature.”

“Thanks,” You sit on the suite – now void of any and all toys – and hold the bottle to Hope’s lips.

She takes it greedily and you smile. James presses a kiss to your head before taking a seat beside you both. His hand rests on your thigh, his attention taken by your little girl. Sirius takes a seat on the floor in front of you both, a gentle finger running up and down the bottom of Hope’s foot. She wriggles, gives his hand a little kick and he laughs. Sirius has been obsessed with Hope since the minute he saw her. He’s the best uncle. He spoils Hope beyond belief and loves her as fiercely as you and James do.

Remus required a little convincing. He loves Hope. It’s obvious in the way he reads to her, in the soft voice he uses when he talks to her. But he’s hesitant. Sirius reckons it’s because he’s scared of hurting her with his heavy hands and lanky limbs. You know he never could. He’s sitting across the room, twirling the toy broom in his hands while he sits in the armchair.

“You better not have put her on that broom, Sirius.” You warn the boy at your feet.

He makes grabby hands for Hope now that she’s settled, and you pass her over gently before relaxing against James. Sirius stands slowly, carefully, and makes his way over to Remus, sitting down at his feet instead. They enter their own world, softly cooing at Hope and watching her as she drinks the milk. Remus runs a gentle hand over the top of her head, and another hand across Sirius’ shoulders. You smile.

“Today was hard,” James speaks quietly, fingers playing with yours on your lap.

“I can tell.” You tease.

James huffs a laugh, “I swear it wasn’t even that bad until like, twenty minutes before you got home.”

You know very well James would have tried to keep the house as tidy and calm as possible for as long as possible. He’s a good dad. He’s got a good touch with Hope. She settles with him every time. But he also gets overwhelmed easily.

You eye Sirius and Remus. They’re so calm. So, content.

“I hope they have this, one day.” You whisper, eyes looking up at James.

He’s as beautiful as the day you met him. But he’s older now. There’s stubble on his jaw, a result of his busy schedule. His eyes are a honey hazel that makes you melt, and he turns to look at you with so much love and adoration that you can’t do anything but lean forward and kiss him. His answer is delayed by the wide smile he gives you. But it comes with a faraway look that you assume is a yearning for Sirius and Remus to have everything they could ever dream of.

His fingertips brush up your arm, his warmth encompasses you. You feel content, willing to forget how horrible the world outside your home is.

“I hope so, too, baby.” He mumbles, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

Sirius laughs when Remus flinches because Hope grabs his index finger and hangs on for dear life. They share a smile a second later, and Sirius rests his head on Remus knee, both of them staring down at the beautiful little girl in Sirius’ arms.

“Love you.” You tell James.

He squeezes you, “Love you, too.”

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frenchkisstheabyss · 18 days

Text

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will.

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in.

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out.

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him.

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder.

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do.

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot.

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on.

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail.

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.”

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since.

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened?

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.”

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that.

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

“Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.”

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you.

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go.

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being.

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret.

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.”

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.”

#nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct x reader #nct x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #nct angst #nct smut #nct au #chubby reader #plus size reader

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hd-junglebook · 1 day

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The Lucky Bachelor

Part 1 - Luke Hughes X Reader

Masterlist Link

a:n When you guys' finish let me know if you want a part 2. I'm a little conflicted because I feel like I can't write as good for Luke as I do Jack. Idk why when I'm literally gonna marry this man but whatever. Enjoy!!

Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.

Word Count 6401

Y/n’s POV

Y/N inhaled deeply, the distinct aroma of stale coffee and the acrid scent of cleaning products assaulting her senses as she stepped into the bustling airport terminal.

The rhythmic whirring of the wheels on her carry-on luggage provided a muffled counterpoint to the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings and the distant hum of aircraft engines.

As she pushed through the throng of hurried travelers, her eyes darted from sign to screen, searching for the gate information for her flight. Suddenly, the overhead intercom crackled to life, a tinny, robotic voice cutting through the din.

"Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Rome. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time." The announcement was punctuated by a sharp, piercing ding that drew the attention of those waiting nearby.

Amidst the sea of harried bodies, a familiar figure suddenly caught Y/N's eye. Clarke, the bride-to-be and her best friend since childhood, stood near the crowded check-in counter.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, the airport's harsh lighting lending an almost ethereal glow to the strands. Clarke was practically bouncing on her toes, her smile radiant with pure joy as she waved enthusiastically, beckoning Y/N over.

"Over here!" Clarke squealed, her voice carrying above the din of the busy airport. She cupped her hands around her mouth, ensuring that her words reached Y/N's ears.

For a moment, the nervousness that had been coiling in Y/N's stomach dissipated, replaced by a warm sense of affection. The nerves that had been twisting in her stomach moments ago melted away, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through her chest.

She quickened her pace, dodging luggage and weaving through the crowd with newfound energy until she reached the circle of familiar faces.

"Sorry, excuse me," Y/N muttered apologetically as she squeezed past a family of tourists, their curious glances following her as she made her way towards her friends.

The moment Y/N stepped into the group, Clarke's eyes lit up, her face splitting into an ecstatic grin. "Y/N! You made it!" she squealed, her voice rising an octave in excitement. Without hesitation, Clarke flung her arms around Y/N, enveloping her in a tight hug that smelled earthy and green.

Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest as she returned the embrace, squeezing Clarke tightly. The two friends held each other for a moment, the chaos of the airport fading into the background as they savored the reunion.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N declared, her voice filled with sincerity as she pulled back to look her best friend in the eye. "You and Damien deserve the best celebration."

At the mention of her fiancé's name, Clarke's cheeks flushed with a delicate hue, a blend of happiness and bashfulness coloring her features. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "It means the world to me that you're here."

Clarke took a deep breath, composing herself before turning to the rest of the group with a radiant smile. "Come say hi to everyone else," she urged, tugging Y/N's hand and leading her towards the other bridesmaids.

As Y/N greeted each of the girls with warm, enthusiastic hugs, the chatter among the group grew louder. But as her gaze swept across the familiar faces, it landed on a newcomer, a girl she had never seen before.

The stranger stood slightly apart from the rest, her fiery red hair cascading down her back in vivid, rebellious curls.

Her piercing green eyes seemed to hold a glint of something mysterious, an undercurrent of intensity that made Y/N pause for a moment, her heart skipping a beat.

Brushing off the strange, unsettling feeling that crept up her spine, Y/N approached the girl with a friendly smile etched onto her features. "Hi there," she said, extending her hand in greeting. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Y/N, Clarke's childhood friend."

The redhead's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a guarded expression that immediately put Y/N on edge. "Anastasia," she replied, her voice smooth and measured as she grasped Y/N's outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Despite the polite exchange, Y/N couldn't shake the odd, prickling sensation that settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Anastasia, something indescribable, that felt off - a subtle tension that hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating.

But before Y/N could dwell on it further, Clarke appeared by their side, her face lit up with excitement, effectively shattering the moment.

"Y/N, I see you've met Anastasia," Clarke beamed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, forming a bridge between the two women. "She's a close work friend from my new job. I've been dying for you two to meet!"

Y/N forced a smile, the muscles in her face straining with the effort as she tried to push down the unease that threatened to surface. "That's great," she replied, her voice sounding a bit too chipper even to her own ears. "I'm always happy to meet Clarke's friends. As you can tell we're all thick as thieves now."

Anastasia's piercing gaze flickered between Y/N and Clarke, a flash of something indecipherable crossing her features before it was quickly replaced by a warm, almost saccharine smile.

"Clarke has told me so much about you, Y/N," she said, her tone honey-sweet and dripping with false sincerity. "I feel like I already know you."

Y/N let out a strained laugh, the sound grating against her own ears. "All good things, I hope," she joked, trying in vain to lighten the suddenly palpable tension.

Clarke giggled, her hand giving Y/N's shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of unease swirling between the two women.

…

All too quickly, the girls began navigating through the bustling airport, checking in their luggage and making their way through the winding security checkpoints, Y/N found herself easily falling back into step with their giddy chatter.

Taylor, one of Clarke's college friends, let out a giggle as she recounted her latest romantic escapade.

"Me and Travis aren't together anymore. He was too clingy," she said with a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll steal up one of the best men, huh, Clarke?"

Clarke rolled her eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Taylor was always like this, falling in love too quickly and falling out of it just as fast. Her romantic aspirations were as fleeting as the summer breeze, but her infectious laughter and carefree spirit made her an essential part of their tight-knit group.

The conversation shifted to the upcoming bachelorette party as they made their way to the boarding gate. Clarke's eyes sparkled as she described the home they'd be staying at, her hands gesturing animatedly as she painted a vivid picture of pristine white sand and crystal-clear waters.

"I found it a couple of months ago," she explained, her voice brimming with excitement. "It's a little expensive, but I feel like this week will be worth it."

Y/N listened intently, absorbing every word as Clarke waxed poetic about the luxurious amenities and breathtaking views. She could almost feel the warm sand beneath her feet, the salty breeze caressing her skin, and the laughter of her friends echoing through the night.

The intercom crackled to life, a pleasant voice filling the air. "Attention passengers, this is the final boarding call for Flight 227 to Bali. Please make your way to Gate 12. Thank you."

The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the group, signaling for them to gather their belongings.

The girls fell into a single file line, stepping onto the plane and entering the luxurious first-class cabin that welcomed them with plush seats and gleaming surfaces.

Just as Y/N was settling into her seat, a familiar name caught her attention, causing her heart to skip a beat. "I can't wait to see Luke," one of the girls gushed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

It was Anastasia.

"He's such a dreamboat, Emilia, don't you think? Have you seen his arms?" she giggled.

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her grip tightening on the handle of her carry-on. She glanced up, only to find Clarke’s eyes already fixed on her, a mixture of guilt and concern etched across her face before she forced a toothy smile. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She'd known this moment would come, the day she’d see Luke again. But hearing his name spoken so casually, as if he were just another guest and not the boy who had once held her heart in his hands, made it all too real.

It was Clarke who broke the eye contact first, her smile faltering. She cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "We should probably find our seats," she suggested, her voice strained.

Y/N nodded, grateful for the escape. She followed the group onto the plane, her mind reeling with thoughts of Luke and the memories they'd shared.

Once they settled into their seats, Clarke turned to Y/N, her face contorted with guilt. "I was gonna tell you," she screeched, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Please don't be mad, Damien and Luke have gotten so close it would be rude not to invite him."

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the headrest. She couldn't blame Clarke for inviting Luke. After all, he was part of their shared history, a friend to both the bride and groom.

But the knowledge that he would be there, that she'd have to face him after all this time, sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her.

"I'm not mad, I promise," she said, the tightness in her jaw betraying her calm tone as she forced a smile. "It's just... complicated. I haven't seen him in a long time, so maybe this can be a good thing."

Clarke reached over, tentatively squeezing Y/N's hand. "I know," she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.

"You guys are older now and have most of life figured out. Maybe you guys can be friends again? Get some closure."

Y/N nodded stiffly, her gaze trained straight ahead. The past had a way of clinging to her, of resurfacing when she least expected it. And with Luke, there was so much left unsaid, so many questions left unanswered that made her chest tighten.

Anastasia plopped down into the open seat next to her, a twist of fate that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The redhead offered her a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Looks like we'll be getting to know each other quite well on this trip," Anastasia remarked, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/N swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck tensing as she nodded in agreement. Little did she know, Anastasia's words held a weight that would soon become all too clear.

…

Luke’s POV

Luke stepped off the plane, the warm island breeze caressing his face and tousling his chestnut hair. The salty scent of the ocean filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and tropical flowers.

He paused for a moment, taking it all in, the exotic smells washing over him and easing the tension in his shoulders.

Adjusting the strap of his backpack, Luke scanned the crowded airport, his eyes searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of tourists and locals.

A flash of recognition caught his attention, and he spotted his friends gathered near the baggage claim, their laughter and animated conversations rising above the din of the busy terminal.

A grin spread across his face as he made his way towards them, a mixture of excitement and a touch of nerves fluttering in his chest. "Hey, guys!" he called out, his voice carrying a hint of his trademark dorky charm.

Luke was excited to see his old friends again. His friends turned to greet him, their faces lit up with genuine smiles and enthusiastic handshakes.

They fell into an easy banter, discussing the itinerary for the joint bachelor party and good-naturedly teasing the groom-to-be about his upcoming nuptials.

Luke joined in the lively conversation, laughing and joking along with the others. But even as he participated, he couldn't quite shake the twinge of apprehension that gnawed at the back of his mind.

Y/N would be here, on this very island, and the thought of seeing her again after all this time sent a shiver down his spine.

"Hey, Luke, you planning on sweeping any of the local ladies off their feet this weekend?" one of his friends, Jared, elbowed him playfully.

Luke chuckled, trying to mask the underlying tension. "Nah, man, I'm here to support the groom, not to cause any trouble."

Another friend, Ethan, piped up. "Yeah, right. Like we don't all remember how you used to be the ultimate ladies' man back in the day."

"That was a lifetime ago," Luke shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. In truth, his mind was elsewhere, still consumed by the thought of reuniting with Y/N.

He could still vividly remember the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the softness of her skin under his fingertips, and the soothing way her voice could calm his worries.

Their fairy tale romance had been cut short by the demands of his burgeoning NHL career, the distance and the pressure ultimately proving too much for their relationship to withstand.

The breakup had been painful, a raw wound that had never fully healed. In the aftermath, they had lost touch, each of them focusing on their own lives and careers, trying to move forward without the other.

Now, as Luke prepared to see Y/N again, he found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Would she still be the same girl he had fallen for all those years ago? Would the connection between them still be there, simmering beneath the surface? The uncertainty only served to heighten the nervous anxiety bubbling in his chest.

…

After three hours of painful silence on the plane, they finally made It back to the ground. y/n felt like she could finally breathe again as the fresh air hit her face. She was almost too grateful to be more than a few feet away from Anastasia.

Clarke led the way to the car rental counter, all seemed well until Anastasia suddenly let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, it looks like there's been some kind of mix-up with our reservation," she groaned, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Clarke's eyes went wide. "What do you mean? I double-checked everything before we left!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry.

Anastasia shot Y/N a pointed look. "Well, maybe if someone hadn't been so distracted, we wouldn't be in this mess," she huffed, her tone dripping with condescension.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she protested, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

The redhead rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Don't play innocent with me. I saw the way you were eyeing the baggage carousel, completely oblivious to everything else around you."

"Woah relax!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. "I was just looking around, making sure I didn't miss our luggage. There's no need to make this into a big deal, I mean what exactly is this mess-up you’re talking about."

Anastasia scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it is a big deal when your carelessness jeopardizes our entire trip. Now we're going to have to waste time sorting this out instead of enjoying ourselves."

Clarke stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's all just take a deep breath, okay? I'm sure we can figure this out," she said in a soothing tone, casting an apologetic glance in Y/N's direction.

Y/N felt her heart racing, she wanted nothing more than to escape the confrontation, to retreat to a quiet corner and gather her thoughts. But Anastasia's accusatory gaze kept her rooted to the spot, her pride and sense of fairness refusing to back down.

"I'm not the one who caused this problem, Anastasia," Y/N insisted, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "If you'd just calm down and let the rental agent handle it, I'm sure we can get this sorted out."

The redhead's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Y/N could have sworn she saw a spark of genuine malice in their depths. "Oh, I'm perfectly calm," Anastasia purred, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "I'm just not going to let anyone ruin this trip for me. Especially not you."

After several tense minutes of negotiating with the rental agent, Clarke finally emerged with a set of keys, a strained smile on her face.

"Okay, everyone," she called out, waving the group over. "We got it all sorted out. Let's head to the car and get this show on the road!"

The girls filed towards the waiting vehicle, each one casting wary glances at Anastasia, who seemed to be in an especially foul mood. As Y/N reached for the handle of the front passenger door, the redhead suddenly pulled it open and slid into the seat, an triumphant smirk on her face.

Y/N froze, unsure if Anastasia was being serious. For a moment, she considered putting up a fight, asserting her rightful place in the front. But the odds already felt stacked against her, and she didn't want to risk escalating the situation further.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Y/N settled into the backseat, squeezing in next to Taylor. The brunette shot her an apologetic look, mouthing a silent "I don’t know what her deal is" as she placed a comforting hand on Y/N's arm.

…

The car pulled up to the beachfront property, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The house was stunning, a perfect blend of modern architecture and tropical charm, nestled on a secluded stretch of pristine white sand.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, a soothing melody that did little to calm the butterflies fluttering restlessly in her stomach.

Y/N hung back, taking a moment to gather her composure while the girls tumbled out of the car. She watched as her friends eagerly grabbed their bags from the trunk, their faces aglow with the glow of the setting sun.

The last time she had been in this paradise-like setting, she had been with Luke, their young love blossoming amidst the sun-drenched days and moonlit nights. Now, the prospect of seeing him again after all these years sent a shiver of both trepidation and longing through her.

Emilia turned and noticed Y/N lingering behind. "Y/N! Are you coming inside?" she called out, her voice brimming with excitement.

Y/N mustered a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of the turmoil she felt. "I just... need a moment."

Emilia returned the smile and nodded in understanding before disappearing through the doorway, leaving Y/N to collect her thoughts. Steeling herself, Y/N reached for her suitcase and followed the group inside.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Y/N pushed open the car door and stepped out, embracing the warm, salty breeze that swept across the secluded beachfront property.

She was the last one to leave the vehicle, her luggage trailing behind her as she crossed the threshold, the car door clicking shut softly behind her - a subtle finality that seemed to seal her fate.

The walk to the kitchen felt like an eternity, each step a battle against the nerves that she couldn’t seem to shake off. Her heart pounded in her ears, a deafening rhythm that drowned out the chatter and laughter of her friends. She forced a smile onto her face, waving to Damien and his groomsmen as she entered the room, her eyes scanning the space almost involuntarily.

And then, as if by some magnetic force, her gaze landed on Luke.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their eyes met, their gazes locking in a moment that was both thrilling and terrifying. This was it, the moment she had both anticipated and dreaded, the chance to confront the past she had spent years trying to outrun.

He was leaning against the kitchen island, his tall frame exuding an air of effortless confidence. The years had been kind to him, sculpting his features into a breathtaking work of art. His chestnut hair was tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it, and his eyes, those deep pools of brown that had once held her captive, sparkled with mirth as he laughed at something one of the guys had said.

He looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine shoot, a perfect specimen of masculine beauty. Y/N felt her breath hitch, her heart skipping a beat as she drank in the sight of him. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if they were still those love-struck teenagers, stealing glances at each other across a crowded classroom.

Luke's expression shifted from surprise to a tentative smile, and Y/N felt her heart flutter, the familiar pull of their connection tugging at her very soul. She took a step forward, compelled by an invisible thread that bound them together, but the sound of Anastasia's voice piercing the charged silence shattered the moment, yanking Y/N back to reality.

"Y/N! There you are," the redhead chirped, her tone sugary sweet as she sidled up to Y/N, a possessive hand resting on her arm. "We were just about to start mixing cocktails. Care to join us?" Y/N tore her gaze away.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'd love to help," Y/N managed, her voice betraying a hint of her nerves. She moved to the counter, her fingers fumbling as she tried to focus on the task at hand.

She could feel Luke's presence, even without looking at him, a palpable energy that crackled and sizzled in the space between them. It was going to be a long week, a test of her resolve and her ability to keep her heart in check.

With one last glance in Luke's direction, Y/N turned away.

…

Y/N plastered on a smile, pushing down the turmoil raging within as she joined the girls in the kitchen, their lively chatter and laughter a sharp contrast to the palpable tension coursing through her veins.

"Ah, there's our girl!" Anastasia crooned, draping a possessive arm around Y/N's shoulders and guiding her to the makeshift bar. "We were just about to start mixing some cocktails."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering towards the living room, where the groomsmen - including Luke - had gathered. She could feel his eyes on her, a pull so powerful it was as if he were a planet and she, a helpless moon in his gravitational field.

"Hey, Luke, looks like your old flame is getting her flirt on," Jared teased, elbowing the other man playfully.

Luke felt a flash of something akin to jealousy surge through him, but he quickly tamped it down, offering a casual shrug. "It's been a long time. I'm sure she's just being friendly."

Ethan chuckled, a devious grin spreading across his face. "Friendly, huh? Well, in that case, maybe one of us should go over there and help her out. You know, show her a real good time."

The group erupted in a chorus of laughter, their eyes trained on the girls as they moved around the kitchen, their movements graceful and flirtatious. She could feel the weight of their gazes, and she fought the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.

Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the attention, her hips swaying in a way that Y/N couldn't help but find a bit over-the-top.

Y/N felt a subtle unease creep up her spine as Anastasia's flirtatious behavior escalated, the redhead's touches and innuendos growing increasingly blatant. Trying to divert Anastasia's attention, Y/N turned to the other girls, forcing a smile onto her face.

"So ladies, how are you two planning to spend tonight?" she asked, silently pleading for backup.

Taylor grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “I plan to spend it drunk, maybe some skinny dipping on the beach.” she winked.

Clarke, ever the diplomatic peacekeeper, stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's arm. "Alright, ladies, let's not hog all the fun. I'm sure the boys are getting thirsty over there." She flashed them a playful wink, her gaze shifting to Y/N, a silent message of reassurance passing between them.

"Oh, don't worry, Clarke. I'm sure the boys can entertain themselves for a while." She cast a pointed glance towards the living room, her lips curving into a coy smile. "After all, we girls need to have a little fun of our own, don't we, Y/N?" Anastasia's smooth, saccharine voice cut through the chatter.

Y/N felt her stomach twist with discomfort, the charged undercurrent in Anastasia's words raising all sorts of warning bells in her mind. Mustering a tight-lipped smile, she nodded, her eyes silently pleading with the other girls to steer the conversation in a different direction.

…

The initial excitement of the group's arrival had settled down, and the friends naturally split off into smaller clusters, catching up and exploring the luxurious beach house.

Luke stayed in the kitchen fighting with himself on what he should do. ‘Do I go to her?’ He thought to himself. ‘Can I mend three years of silence in a week?’

Caught up in the moment, Luke found himself gravitating towards the living room without another thought, muttering a 'fuck it' as his feet moved of their own accord.

It was as if he were being drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He paused just a few feet away, clearing his throat tentatively. She was so lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean, that she didn't hear his approaching footsteps until his voice broke through her reverie.

"It's good to see you again," he said, his voice low and warm.

Y/N turned, her heart leaping into her throat as she came face to face with Luke. Up close, he was even more striking, his features sharper and more defined than she remembered.

"Luke," she breathed, his name feeling both foreign and familiar on her tongue. "Yeah, it is good to see you. It's been a while."

He smiled, a lopsided grin that sent a flutter of excitement through her chest. "Two years, give or take," he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You look... amazing by the way."

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical climate. "Thanks," she managed to choke out. "You look better, happier..."

There was a beat of silence as they drank in each other's presence, the weight of the years that had passed palpable between them.

Y/N's mind raced, desperately searching for the right words, the perfect way to bridge the gap that had grown. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she longed to ask, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, trapped behind the turbulent surge of emotions.

Luke, too, seemed to be grappling with his own thoughts, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied her face, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

"I saw you play the other week, I'm happy things are working out for you," Y/N began, looking between his face and their friends running on the beach.

"You saw the game?" Luke questioned, his expression shifting to one of shock.

"I was there in person," she admitted, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Wait, what...How come you didn't say hi?" he pressed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "I saw you with some girls, didn't want to interrupt," she confessed, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

Luke let out a soft chuckle, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "So you were stalking me, huh?" he teased.

The familiar banter brought a smile to Y/N's face, the tension easing ever so slightly. "I was just watching, sugar," she murmured, the endearment slipping out before she could stop herself.

The moment the words left her lips, Y/N felt a wave of mortification wash over her. She hadn't used that name in three years, and one casual encounter with Luke had her mind instantly reverting to the intimacy of their past. Biting her lip, she averted her gaze, silently willing the ground to open up and swallow her.

Luke, however, seemed to revel in the familiar moniker, his expression softening as a hint of nostalgia flickered across his features.

"It's good to hear you say that again," he admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to gently brush against hers, a spark of electricity crackling between them at the fleeting touch.

The spell was broken by the arrival of Damien, the groom-to-be, who drunkenly stumbled onto Luke, clapping him on the back and pulled him into a boisterous conversation with the group outside.

…

Fat raindrops pelted against the windows as a rumbling clap of thunder rolled overhead. Y/N stood under the covered porch, watching in amusement as the rest of the group made a mad dash from the beach toward the houses front door.

Taylor was bringing up the rear, squealing as the downpour quickly soaked through her thin t-shirt. She reached the porch last, bangs plastered to her forehead and mascara smudged under her eyes. Shivering, she flung open the door and stumbled inside, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.

Y/N chuckled and followed Taylor into the cozy entryway. The others were already shaking out their damp hair and peeling off soaked outer layers.

Taylor pouted as a few stray droplets rolled down her neck, then broke into a impish grin. She extended her arms out to her sides, approaching Y/N.

"Don't you dare!" Y/N warned with a laugh, backing away. Her heel caught on a throw rug and she pitched backward, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the hard floor.

Instead, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, catching her against a firm chest. Y/N's eyes fluttered open to find Luke's concerned gaze inches from her own.

His rain-drenched curls were flattened against his forehead and rivulets of water trailed down his chiseled jawline. His chest heaved as he caught his breath from running inside to escape the downpour.

"Whoa there, you okay?" His warm breath fanned across her cheeks. Up close, Y/N caught the scent of his cologne mingling with the fresh, earthy smells of the rainstorm.

Taylor failed to smother a giggle, shaking out her wet hair like a dog. "I think someone could use a towel."

Luke kept his arm looped protectively around Y/N's waist as he shot Taylor a playful glare. "Yeah, if someone hadn't tried drenching her with a bear hug."

Y/N felt her cheeks growing warm as Luke kept his arm looped around her waist, holding her body flush against his. His taut abdomen pressed into her back, and she was hyper-aware of his warm breath fanning across her neck. Y/N forced a laugh. "Exactly, it's all your fault."

"What's with all the racket?" Damien emerged from one of the doorways, tousling his wild, disheveled hair. He smirked at the intimate way Luke was embracing Y/N. "Oh brother, would you two just screw already and get it over with!"

Y/N's eyes went wide at Damien's crude joke, but Luke just chuckled lowly. His thumb stroked an absent-minded circle into her hipbone, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You staying up for a bit?" Luke asked in a low rumble, realizing he still had Y/N enveloped in his arms. "Not tired, Lukey?" She teased back, relaxing against his solid frame.

Luke's chocolate eyes danced with amusement. "I was tired until I saw you again. I think we have some catching up to do." He flashed her a bright, lopsided smile that made her knees go weak.

…

Taking her hand, Luke led Y/N away from the others down a hallway, throwing a roguish wink over his shoulder at Damien before disappearing around the corner. She held her breath while Luke led her into the sunroom.

It was the epitome of cozy comfort - golden lamps bathed the space in a warm glow, and the large spare bed was piled high with plush blankets and pillows.

Luke started moving towards the inviting bed, but Y/N quickly arched one leg out to block his path. "Ah ah, your shirt is still drenched. You can't get on the bed like that."

He flashed her a roguish grin before grasping the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it smoothly up and over his head in one fluid motion.

Y/N's eyes widened as his toned torso and chiseled abs were revealed. He tossed the soaked shirt aside carelessly and settled onto the bed, leaving a respectable distance between them.

Y/N instantly regretted speaking up. She couldn't believe the casual, unhesitating way he had stripped off his shirt right in front of her, as if they were still intimately involved.

A flush crept up her neck as memories flooded back of when they were dating - she had been an awestruck teenager, hungrily drinking in every newly exposed inch of his body as they learned each other.

Now she was the flustered one, feeling like that bashful girl again as she took in the sight of his muscular build, the breadth of his shoulders tapering down to those abs she used to love tracing with her fingertips...

Y/N swallowed hard as Luke reclined back on the plush bed, muscles rippling underneath tanned skin. He propped himself up on one elbow, giving her an unobstructed view of his chiseled torso and abs.

"See something you like?" Luke's voice was a deep rumble, vibrating straight through Y/N. He arched one brow cockily, the corner of his lips curling into that trademark.

Heat bloomed across Y/N's cheeks as memories of their past intimacies flooded her mind. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. "Don't flatter yourself."

Luke tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Now, now. No need to be shy, gorgeous." He patted the space next to him invitingly. "Why don't you come join me? We have years of catching up to do."

Y/N's pulse fluttered wildly as she wavered, torn between the warmth pooling in her belly and her lingering hurt over how things had ended with Luke. Throwing caution to the wind, she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight.

"Relax." Luke's fingertips ghosted along her arm, raising goosebumps. "You're so tense. Come here. Let me help you with that..."

His hands found her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there with strong strokes. Y/N stifled a moan, hating how easily he could still unravel her with his touch alone. She felt him shift closer until his bare chest was a hair's breadth away, the heat radiating off him in waves.

"There, that's better," Luke purred in her ear, his mouth so close she could feel the whisper of his lips against her skin. "Now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed?"

Y/N shivered at the feel of Luke's breath fanning warmly against her neck. She forced herself to remain still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered he made her.

"So," she began, proud that her voice came out stronger than she felt. "Where should we start?”

Y/N stifled a moan as Luke's strong hands kneaded the tense muscles of her shoulders and upper back. She cursed the traitorous shiver that rippled through her at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against her arm.

She had to gather her wits, made difficult by the intoxicating combination of his heated touch and masculine musk surrounding her. "Well, I finally moved out of that cramped apartment into an actual house back in Michigan."

"A home all to yourself?" Luke's hands stilled momentarily, drawing her gaze to the admiring look smoldering in his eyes. "I'm impressed”

His fingertips trailed scorching paths down her arms as he resettled behind her, the solid wall of his chest pressing against her back once more. Y/N bit her lip against the fresh wave of arousal cresting through her.

She pressed on, “anyway the job has been great. Challenging but great. Though I did have a boyfriend for a while in the midst of everything..."

The words had an immediate effect on Luke. His jaw tightened perceptibly and his eyes flashed dangerously, like a wolf catching the scent of a threat. "A boyfriend, huh?" His voice was low and controlled, but Y/N could hear the undercurrent of primal possessiveness.

She nodded, holding his intense gaze. "Yeah, we dated for several months after you...left."

Luke seemed to wrestle with reining in his reaction. When he spoke again, his tone was carefully measured. "I see. And what became of this...boyfriend?"

Y/N shrugged one shoulder casually, though her pulse was thundering in her ears. "It didn't work out. The passion wasn't really there, at least not on my end."

Luke tsked again, making that infuriatingly sexy sound. At that, some of the tension drained from Luke's frame and a faint smirk played across his lips. "No passion, huh? Can't relate."

His fingers trailed up the side of her neck, sending sparks ricocheting across her sensitized skin. In one smooth motion, he reached out and cupped her jawline, thumb brushing her parted lips. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he murmured, "I missed you every single day, you know."

"I want you back. However, I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."

…

Lmk what you think please! Part 2?

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thepersonnamedsam · 11 months

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headcanons of the genz!driver

pairing: the genz!driver

summary: some cute and chaotic headcanons of the genz!driver

warnings: none :)

note: we love ourselves a chaotic queen

masterlist / taglist

we all know that a 18/19 year old will cause chaos on the grid, much more even if she is allowed to be there and not get evicted

like there was this one time, where she snook into the drivers conference, she was late, as usual, and instead of being silent and unnoticed, she let the door fall shut loudly and announced her great entry with: „welcome my fellow drivers, the best one has arrived and will grace your presence from now on. please, do not stop the meeting on my behalf, i am just here to look pretty.“

or there was a time when the FIA announced that no bikes on the track were allowed anymore and what do you think, at the next race, she arrived with her super fancy bike, blasting bicycle from queen singing the lyrics and riding her bike around the track, obviously

we love ourselves a confident queen

and she is so relatable

like, she posts vlogs on youtube of her life, stuff with a day at the paddock or a day outside the paddock and look, even though she is famous, her life is so relatable

she can’t drive, (seb learned it with her though), she struggles with her hair, almost every day, doing normal stuff is really hard because of mental health problems, her anxiety sparks in situations she doesn’t know, her jokes are weird and dark and almost no one understands them. it’s like she is almost a normal teenager

young fans, female ones especially, look up to her so much, just because she is honest, shares her struggles and is so supportive about it. depression and anxiety are valid and is not something to hide, it’s okay to struggle and she talks so openly about it. fans absolutely adore her and because of her, some find inspiration to do stuff they wouldn’t have done normally

so many young girls started karting because of her, she believes in everyone of them and is sure that they can make it big

lewis and seb are so proud of her, seeing her inspire so many people, makes them feel so so proud. seb has seen her grow up and has helped all the way from karting to formula 1

we all know that seb is the worrying one and always urges her to be careful. but lewis, oh lewis does stuff with her, that if seb actually knew what it was, he would die of a heart attack

he took her to go skydiving once, having her swear not to tell seb or lando, because he would so tell everyone else and seb would instantly know

or the one time let her have a drink with him when she was still underage, psst don’t tell seb

lewis is the cool grid dad, that lets her do stuff that she shouldn’t, always supervised though

because if you let her unsupervised, she is pure chaos

the one time her and lando got left alone, they had to get rescued by george

lando‘s car broke down

and not broke down like it just stopped working

no, his fiat jolly fell down, it laid on its side, on her side to be specific. lando and you were doing stupid stuff, putting all the weight on one side to see how much it would take to overthrow the car

it didn’t take much…

when seb found out, he didn’t let her out if his sight, always making sure she wasn’t doing something stupid that could get her injured

when seb retired, she cried like a baby. she was not sure what to do without him on the paddock, who would make sure she wouldn’t die? who made sure she was drinking enough and eating probably (it was a bit dramatic, because her personal trainer was doing that aspect of her life and not seb).

but still, she would miss seb, she would miss him a lot

that’s where danny comes, seeing her so lost and struggling, he kind of swept into her life as an older grid brother

helping her with stuff and being protective

he was not as great as seb or lewis, who is still the fun grid dad, but danny did his best

she is so happy to have all those people around her

and she is forever grateful and tries to let them know how grateful she is, but sometimes it backfires a bit

like the time she tried to gift all of them something for christmas

oh that was chaos

what do you gift 19 drivers, all at least 4 years older than her, something for christmas that is personal for them and her?

lance got alcohol, he was happy about it

she got lando some socks, he wasn’t sure why

alex got hair dye, made sense

she gifted max a stuffed lion, which he was actually happy about

but george got a shirt with a naked torso on it… she found it hilarious, he not so much

charles got a ‚sorry that your team is shit‘ bracelet

carlos got a chilli tree and a hard copy of smooth operator

zhou got a book of all of lewis‘ paddock looks

lewis got a whole gift basket with vegan stuff and toys for roscoe and a day with her

and many other weird gifts, but it shows that she is so grateful of all the people around her

we know that she always gives her best and that’s the most she can do

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fernando alonso #genz driver #headcanons #genz headcanon #female driver

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wonijin · 8 months

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EARTH ARCADE!READER/AHN YUJIN

headcanons and moments between earth arcade member!reader and ahn yujin.

tags: 1.5k words of pure fluff.

warnings: none probably

you were the 5th member of earth arcade. a young actress that has been garnering attention recently.

laughter echoed throughout the stairway. suddenly, nervousness prevents you to climb the last few steps of the stairs . you peek in the corner to see a familiar face facing the doorway, lee youngji.

deciding there’s really no choice but to move forward you enter the doorway, bowing and greeting. everybody paused for a second, then chaos ensued.

“woah!” lee eunji, a comedian you often see on TV, exclaims before reciting your lines from your latest drama.

mimi, from oh my girl, joins in not soon after. even going as far playing the role of your scene partner.

“thank you for having me. nice to meet you.” you greet politely.

“gosh. you’re so formal.” younji poked fun good-naturedly at your antics despite bowing in response. “don’t worry. im sure she’s going to be infected by your rowdiness soon enough.” eunji quickly replied earning a loud laugh from mimi.

“wait. wait. do you know anybody in this room?” this time it was producer na who took a jab at your surprising awkwardness.

“well, i know you.” you look straightly at producer na. he chuckled at your honesty.

“i know everybody from TV and mostly from social media. this is my first time meeting everybody.”

before you can react, you hear youngji let out a load “oh!”. you turn towards the door to see ahn yujin, one of the literally and figuratively hottest idols in the industry.

you’ve only seen her on your screen. now, your mouth gape at the sight of the real thing. ahn yujin in the flesh.

withouth thinking, you bowed repeatedly like an idiot. “oh my gosh, what an honor!”

“miss y/n l/n. oh my god.” yujin ran over to you. and the sole reason you stopped your continuous bowing was to admire her. ‘wow, she’s so close.’

your eyes popped out their sockets as she takes your hand and shakes it gently. “im a big fan. i watch your dramas religiously. i can name all your projects, i’ve watched each of them at least twice.” she professes, not once pausing.

“thank you. what an honor. im a big fan of yours as well. wow, you’re hands are so soft. sorry, im being weird. its just- wow.” you breathed out.

laughter echoed through the room as everybody watched your exchange.

“its like one fan girl meeting another.” mimi exclaims. “their eyes turned heart-shaped for a moment like those cartoon characters” eunji added.

your eyes find yujin’s only to find hers already looking you.

yujin was a big fan of yours even way before meeting you in jiraksil. what she didn’t know was that you were bigger fan of hers.

you rummage through your luggage until you found what you were looking for. if the people around you didn’t know any better they would've you were a thief thirsty for something valuable.

“y/n, you look like a racoon in a garbage can.” mimi jested.

“aha! found it!” you exclaimed, holding up a package in the air like its a trophy.

eunji steps closer to inspect. “its an…album.” she traced confusedly.

“yep.” you walked towards yujin who was watching the entire scene unfold through the comforts of her bed.

you held the album with both your hands and extended your arms towards her, looking similar to a school girl confessing to her crush by giving chocolates.

“will you please sign it.” you shut your eyes tightly, like a school girl afraid of getting rejected.

in the show, you play the good-for-nothing chaos maker role together with younji.

“oh come on. do i really have to pair up with you?” yujin complains but her wide smile betrays her.

“how could you say that?” you exclaim then proceeds to chase yujin around, puckering your lips and making kissing sounds while opening your arms. you both run around, you chasing her and yujin trying to escape your grasp. she squeals and giggles. and when you did catch her you wasted no time in tickling her.

“somebody get these two love birds away from me. i can’t watch any longer.” younji makes a gagging noise.

nine times out of ten you mess up causing you to receive an earful from a perfectionist yujin.

“you should've known that! it was so easy!” yujin berates you. but despite her words, her smile beams at you brightly.

“how would i know that? that song is practically ancient.” your hands fly up in the air defensively.

“even i know that.” yujin retorts.

“that’s because you’re like a grandma in teenagers body. a normal person your age wouldn’t know that.” you argued.

“what?!” yujin looked at you dramatically like you’ve done an unspeakable crime, like you just kicked a dog.

“there they go again. they’re like an old married couple.” eunji deadpans at the camera.

yujin likes annoying and bullying you as a form of showing her adoration.

“eunseo-ah! i got something to tell you!” yujin stand from the couch abruptly to recite your lines from your drama.

usually, you take pride in your work but yujin had impersonated you for the nth time today that you can’t help but cover your ears.

“somebody please! make it stop!” you plead. the other members chuckle at your misery.

“eunseo-ah! i’ve like you since we were kids! please go out with me.” yujin continued, this time much more dramatic than the last.

she's reenacting a scene from one of your most famous dramas. a scene where your love interest, which yujin is embodying right now, is confessing love to your character, eunseo.

“eunseo-ah! eunseo-ah” the idol shakes your arm giddily as you look straight. she takes entertainment at your exasperation. and continues to mimic your characters from various dramas for the rest of the night.

yet she never fails to show her adoration towards you in other ways.

“eunji, what do you think?” yujin asks the older girl who was browsing at the rack of clothes.

“it looks amazing on you! you should buy it!” eunji encourages the younger girl.

“oh! it isn’t for me. its for y/n” yujin clarifies.

“im sure she’d be happy to receive that. in fact, im sure she’d be over the moon with anything you give her.” eunji recalls how much you dote on yujin. “you could get her a random rock and she’d probably treasure it like it’s from space.”

yujin’s cheeks flared red at the thought. eunji laughs at her embarrassed state. “you’re both such dorks.”

in the end, yujin couldn’t decide which one you’d like best so she bought three different clothes for you.

your relationship peaked in the wake up mission where you secretly help yujin because you felt bad for her.

you found out yujin’s mission when you entered the shower after her. the shower reeked of garlic. you had to laugh at the absurdity of the smell. in addition, there were bits and pieces of garlic skin on the floor. putting two and two together didn’t take long after that.

the lights were out. youngji and mimi were asleep but you were unable to. so you ventured out until you heard noises. it was faint but your mind is still alert from all the caffeine you took that day.

heading towards the noise, you found yourself before yujin and eunji’s room. you carefully open the door to meet yujin’s wide eyes.

yujin looked like a lunatic holding the pestle midair with her crazy eyes. you chuckle lightly, tiptoeing towards her. “you’re too competitive for your own good.”

“don’t tell anybody.” yujin quickly pleads.

“there’s no one to tell anything to.” your words put her at ease. at much ease someone mincing garlic in the middle of the night could feel.

“why are you still awake anyway?” she asks you silently. “i don’t know. i guess my body was itching to pester you.” even through the dark, yujin’s smile still shined bright. and you hoped the darkness was enough to hide the redness of your cheeks.

fans adore your dynamic with yujin. the push and pull relationship you both have managed to gather a lot of attention on social media.

“everybody, slow down. i can’t read your comments, they’re too fast.” you squint at the screen. you were live on instagram, hoping to interact with your fans.

after the live chat had slowed down, one comment managed to catch your eye.

“are you wearing yujin’s shirt?” you looked down at the said piece of clothing. sure, you had no memory of buying this particular shirt but that goes a lot for your other shirts as well. some were sponsored, gifts or bought while drunk. you assumed it was one of those three.

until, a loud ping came from your phone and a notification popped at the top of your screen.

yujinnie: yes, that’s mine. i put it on your suitcase so it’ll remind you of me ;).

you smile like an idiot while reading the text. then, you realize something. yujin is watching this live because how else would she send that in perfect timing.

your face flush at the thought of her being amongst the thousands watching you right now. and you flush a shade darker, because she must’ve witnessed you grin at her text.

the comment remained unanswered as you decided to keep this detail to yourself.

even after filming season one, yujin continues to support you by posting scenes from your drama. her instagram quickly transformed into a fanpage because of how often she would fan girl about you.

#ahn yujin #an yujin #ive imagines #ive imagine #ive x reader #ive x you #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x you #yujin x reader #yujin x you #ahn yujin imagines #ahn yujin imagine #yujin imagine #yujin imagines #ive headcanons

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unabashednightmarepizza · 8 months

Text

𝐵𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ, 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝐸𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑚𝑒!

Summary: A funny game that showed the Marauders that you and Sirius were more than just lovers: You two were soulmates... That knew what the other was exactly thinking in the most creepy way possible.

A/N: Another day, another me not knowing what I actually wrote so... Hope It's as fluffy as I wanted it to be.

Inspiration: this, this, this

People never knew how you and Sirius got along, yet alone dating each other.

It wasn't because of hard feelings, though you were sure some of the girls planned your death already, but more like... Curiousity. And both of you understood where it came from.

He was loud, way too cheerful, loved pranking people( especially Severus even though you and Lily told them not to do that), he flirted with anyone possible and he used to even bring them into his dorm and perhaps did Godric knows what.

He was the Casanova of Hogwarts and you were... Well, you were you.

Painfully so.

It wasn't that you didn't like the way you are, though you could get awkward sometimes because of socialising for a long time. You were a quiet one unlike him, professors loved you dearly and you had enough of a friend group that loved each other, you loved reading books and getting lost in them and even preferred to be alone most of the times...

You two were very different, yet those differences were what made you both love the other fiercely.

Because no one knew behind that flirting façade of Sirius, was a boy who just wanted to have someone's unconditional love and attention. Years of abuse and neglect from his parents' did that to him. Not everyone knew that even if he would bring someone, he would never bring himself to do anything.

Because deep down, he craved a closure. Love that slowly filled your every sense until there was nothing but that flutterimg feeling. He didn't want a simple hook-up, even if people often thought he enjoyed doing that. He wanted something precious, something worth fighting for, something long-lasting.

Something that made his chest burst with joy, something that would give him power when he thought he would never stand back up again to fight.

Someone that brought him simple pleasures, a simple life of just watching his love and himself growing old together and having a good life together, away from any kind of chaos.

And you? You understood him, the real him, behind that mask and slowly crumbled his walls. You didn't carr about his reputation and gave hım a chance, after witnessing how he followed after you for a month without getting tired and didn't even bat an eye on another person until you said yes, and then officially got together.

Then, much to the others' chagrin, he never went back to his old self.

And after that, completely baring yourselves our? It was pure happiness for both of you. Contrary to popular belief, with him being a Black, he wasn't a manipulative bastard as some others worried.

He was the sweetest person ever.

He always waited for you before your house with a giddy smile and kissed you good morning, his lips lingering on your cheeks or lips for a bit longer to savour your warmth with his hands on your cheeks tilting your head up bringing butterflies to your heart, before he gathered you between his arms and led you to Great Hall to have a grab of your favourites.

He always noticed little signs about you, whenever you got uncomfortable in the slightest. He noticed how your eyes would cast down and drop tiredly when your social battery went down and had to take a breathe away from all the crowd around you. He would always tap your shoulder gently and lead you outside and then talk about anything that came to his mind with a stutter.

He couldn't help it, you always looked so adorable and amazing with his jacker over your shoulders!

He never would admit it, but talking to you made him nervous. He didn't know if it was a good one or not, but all he knew was that he didn't want you to think of him like the others did.

He wanted you to see him who was serious about his feelings for you.

Because they were... They are the most serious feelings and thoughts he ever had for someone, and you were the best thing that happened to him. You were what brightened his days, what gave him hope for another day, the one who showed him that he deserved to be loved through your gentle kisses and tender touched every time he came close to you, laid on you even if it could sometimes irritate you.

That was because of your love... He didn't realize how you tried to be more touchy with him, but absolutely hissed at anyone who wasn't Sirius who tried to do the same to you. You let hım lay on your lap, rest his head on your shoulder, kiss your neck and tickle you...

But never did you ever allow anyone else to do the same, and when James cheekily pointed that out to hım... His heart stopped beating for a second and he blushed so fiercely that everyone teased hım for it for days.

Then he cried one night, sent everyone into panic as they apologized profusely as the drama Queen he was but that was another story

He thought back to that time when he met you, a beautiful and fragile thing as he... destroyed someone's face for daring to touch his friends. Out of everything that could happen that day, seeing his literal soulmate, the other half of his soul, was definetly not on his list. He didn't even think he would have someone that understood him and loved him, especially after all that rumors about him sleeping with everyone possible and the reputation his family had.

But he did actually met that person... And turns out, he was wrong.

And it came in the form of... A pretty human cheering for him as he beated someone in the courtyard for bullying his friends and assaulting girls.

"Yeah, from the other side, the right side! It's his weakest point! If you are gonna punch someone, at least do it in the right way!" The young adult demonstrated how he should punch with their own as they cheered for him, happily watching hım beat the shit out of that damned boy as everyone else was left in shock.

And when you came skipping to him with a smile as you gushed out to him and how cool he looked, he knew that he would do anything to get your attention for the rest of his life.

And now, he had been the happiest he had ever been as ever. His days were no longer dull and he wasn't that empty boy who played around. He was someone who dedicated his everything to his lover, a decent boy who loved his friends and lover and spent almost every minute with them.

And today was yet another day you would spend the night with him.

He and James sneaked you and Lily inside their dorm for a fun night together, playing different games. Everyone greeted you happily, making small talk as Sirius LED you to where his bed was.

After making sure that it was presentable and not dirty with some leftovers, not that you cared much because... Well, boys were boys.

Sirius' back was against his own bed as his legs dangled off from the corners, arms thightly wrapped around your waist as your back was pressed against his chest. He smiled happily and snuggled into your hair with his nose, making you giggle at his cuteness as you turned to take his face between your palms.

"Awfully cuddly today, aren't we?"

"When I have a gorgeous lover like you? No doubt yes, darling..."

He peppered kisses all over your face as you giggled and pushed hım away to no avail, after all, he was much stronger and bigger than you. You never said much about him smothering you, who in their right minds would complain about their lover showing them love?

Besides, seeing Sirius almost radiating with happiness was enough of a reason for you to be happy as well.

Sappy lovers, who?

"My handsome boy, you were so good at the match, I'm so proud-" you played with his hair softly, putting a strand behind his ear a she smiled when a fake annoyed voice cut you in the middle.

"Okay, Okay, Pads, we get it! You two are very much so in love..."

Sirius slowly lifted his head to look at his very much so agitated yet happy friend with squeezed eyes. You giggled at how adorable and silly he looked with his hair bonnet on, looking like a middle-aged woman. He would always fake offence and gasp dramatically whenever you said this, flipping his hair to your face before he leant over your frame and corner you.

Your breath would be caught in your throat, blushing madly as a sudden hot feeling would fill you at the sight of his handsome face close to you and his lanky yet strong body pressed to your own.

Usually, this often meant a hot and heavy make-out that would surely leave you as a mess and also make both of you late to your classes...

But not with the bonnet.

My hair is my second everything, love! You are the first, and my luxirous hair is fhe second, I have to take care of it!

He pouted a bit at his friend's teasing, putting his head down on top of your head as he smirked at his best friends who chuckled at the whiny James that got out. He didn't take what James said seriously, because he exactly knew why he was being like this.

He and Lily were still at that stage where everything was on a thin line and everything depended on him and how he behaved.

"Oh, I see what it is~" James gulped nervously as he looked at his bestfriend with hooded eyes, daring him to say anything about the way he was a simp for Lily when Sirius threw his arms to the air and he deadpanned at the black haired boy.

"You are jealous of our soulmate bond!"

"Soulmate bond?" Lily questioned as she looked at you and smiled sweetly. People didn't take her as someone who was into this type of things, but truth is, she adored the idea of finding someone just like yourself that completed you and spend the rest of your life with that kind of commitment and security.

"It's when they know what the other will say or do." Remus explained from next to her on his bed without taking his eye away from the glasses he was fixing and she nodded, turning her face to watch the couple and the boy she definetly didn't like.

"Yeah, sure you git... I'm sure you guys also know what the other thinks." He grumbled under his breath as you raised your brows.

"You don't believe us, Jamie?" You teased him back just as Sirius did, and he smiled down at you proudly and smooched your cheeks.

He really rubbed off you and he could cry at how cute and hot you were to hım in his eyes at that moment.

James huffed out as Remus watched his friends with a smirk. James didn't know it but you two trully knew what the other was exactly thinking, much to the fear of him.

He witnessed it once, when you gave every little object Sirius had forgotten as he listed them, and then his favourite treats at the same time he was saying how nice it would be to have them.

Needless to say, that day was the day Sirius insisted you were the one for him and he was going to marry you, talking Remus' ear off with how much he said the exact same words all the time.

And now, it was his time to watch a flabbergasted James at that.

"Yeah, I don't believe you lots! How can someone know what their lover thinks?"

"Okay, then! Give us a random letter and we will say what word we thought and see if they're the same!" Sirius raised his brows jokingly, daring him to do that as James straightened and silked his shoulders.

That was competition now.

And his honor was at stake.

He was so going to prove you both wrong.

"Okay, fine, then... M!"

"Man!" You both looked at each other weirdly before bursting out laughing at how disappointedly you said the word.

"What did my kind do to you?!"

"I don't know! It just left me like that..!"

Everyone in the room was full on laughter with amazed eyes at how tuned the word left you both as James' jaw was hang open but he soon, pulled himself together and said another letter.

He was going to prove that this was just a coincidence... It was one, right?

"F!"

"Fuck!"

"B!"

"Bitches!"

Both you and Sirius cackled as you laid on his bed sideways, his arm under your head while he was propped on his elbow and tried to control his breathing after laughing that hard. You both were shaking from the amusement of the situation and the shocked stares of everyone as they laughed alongside you.

Not James though. He couldn't believe his own eyes and ears at what was happening. What kind of witchery he was witnessing right now?

"D!" James really wanted to try his chance one more time, so that he could have at least a little ounce of his honor in Lily's eyes who was also laughing too hard while looking between their friends and into his eyes with gleaming green ones that left hım breathless.

Maybe, this wasn't so bad-

"Dick!"

"WHY DID I SAY THAT?!" You stopped your laughing as the room almost boomed with your laughs, Sirius looking at you with wide eyes at how fast it left his mouth and looked at you worriedly if that made you uncomfortable. It was no secret to you or anyone in the room of his atraction to both gender, but never did he ever say this out loud.

At least, like this.

Merlin, that's SO embrassing... What if they think of me weird? Or that I'm not satisfied with them, didn't love them-

But it only made you laugh harder and hit his chest in the middle of your laughing fit as Sirius looked at you in shock and tender love, his eyes watering slightly at how happy you looked.

Sirius always loved that side of you the most perhaps, if he had to pick one. You weren't usually a touchy person, very unlike him, but when you were comfortable and happy with someone, you would always touch them in some way and even hit them playfully while laughing at something.

And he was glad to be that someone for you, as you both laid together in his dorm, surrounded with people you both loved and completely loosing yourselves over how funny this whole thing was.

But the best one hadn't come yet, and as you both tried to lay back on your backs... Only one word left you two, which resulted with both of you loosing balance and finding yourselves on either side of his bed on the ground.

"nAHH!"

Both of you fell down the bed while wheezing on the floor desperately, tummy hurting from how hard you both laughed as Lily tried to walk towards you and pull you up as Remus did the same with Sirius but they both fell on the ground as you two rolled over, doubling in laughter. You pulled your legs to your chest as Sirius punched the carpet in laughter, both your friends who tried to help you but failed and gave up, and instead joined you two as well.

"Even their 'nah' is the same... This is not soulmate shite now, this is plain creepy." James muttered under his breath but still smiled at his friend's happiness, the wide smile over Sirius' lips being a first in a long time. He had never seen the flirtitous man so stupidly in love, so much of a "simp" for the person he loves as Sirius liked to call James as.

And he knew at that moment as you both held onto each other to get up with hiccuped giggles and kissed the other sweetly, that James didn't have any doubts you and Sirius had each other's backs for the rest of your lives.

And when everyone slowly drifted to peaceful sleep after a fun night together full of happines and laughter as you slept between your boyfriend's arms, snuggling to him with your legs interwined together, he squeezed you thighter as a lone tear slipped from his eye from happiness when you mumbled cutely in your sleep.

"I love you, Siri."

"I love you too. So much."

He was going to do whatever it took to keep this little haven, fragile peace he had built for himself. He would do his best to return the safety and love you gave to him to the best of his abilities. He would be someone who you deserved in your life and not disappoint you.

He was going to protect you and do anything in his power to keep his family, or people like them away from you.

He would get his happy ending, to stay like this forever with you.

He was going to make sure of it.

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